No flags for the artist

Culture Matters

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Make waves

Everybody make waves

Make waves

Everybody make waves

Jump jump jump wave and jump around

Flag party

– Extract from Flag Party – SuperBlue, 1994

IN THE Orisa yard, flags are planted. They pay respect to the deities and invite their presence; red for Sango, blue for Yemoja, white for Obatala. The jhandis – flags – in Hindu yards serve the same purpose; they are placed after pooja (ritual) and complete the ceremony. Red for Hanuman, blue for Shiva, white for Sarasawati. The flags stake a claim and announce “we are here.”

Across our landscape, flags of a different kind are being planted. They announce the claiming of a different kind of space. The colours conjure diverse ideologies and allegiances. For the artists who are still awaiting remuneration from work delivered at Carnival and who are among the last to be considered for covid19 relief, the question needs to be asked: is anyone planting or flying a flag for the artist?

In 1994, Super Blue mesmerised the Queen’s Park Savannah with a performance of Flag Party that lasted for more than ten minutes. He used his flag as a staff, clearing a physical path through a stage filled with half-naked muscular men waving flags and children dressed as humming birds moving their wings back and forth. Beyond a physical path, he opened a spiritual portal; more than 25 years later the waving of flags remains a connecting force, combining all of our essences in this creative space.

In TT, the artist remains integral to social transformation. Through our art, we challenge, interrogate and innovate. Sadly, in these extraordinary times, the livelihood of the artist is in peril. Across the world, even the most resilient of creative industries have been forced to develop new ways of generating content or, worse, dismiss workers.

Even the prolific creative sector in the UK is projected to lose some $92 billion due to the pandemic. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) states that “along with the tourism industry, cultural and creative sectors are among the most affected by the current coronavirus (covid19) crisis...many small companies and freelance professionals essential for the sector could face bankruptcy.”

Netflix and other multinational organisations within the digital sphere have, quite unexpectedly, been able to take advantage of the global health crisis. Indeed, “Netflix added 16 million new subscriptions during the first quarter of 2020 – double their projected estimates for the period.” Locally, leading voices within the creative sector talk about capitalising on online solutions, developing creative skills and other nice sounding phrases.

But where is the national plan to support our sector? It is already acknowledged that creative industries can easily contribute upwards of $1 billion to overall income. In the UK, over 2,000 creative organisations and freelancers were interviewed towards finding solutions. Here, the silence from the ministry responsible for the arts has been deafening, but expected. It feels like very few people there are making waves. It feels like very few people there are waving a flag for artists.

The lowering of the British flag and hoisting of the red, black and white national flag was a powerful moment in our history. Those who were present recall looking around Woodford Square at the pride on the faces; descendants of all the people who were either brought here or came on their own.

Today, a national flag has become a more complex symbol. It embodies narratives about freedom, racism or choice. Globally, people have died for hoisting flags that represent their ideology.

In these extraordinary times, what flags will be flown for the artists who helped shape our nation? As the disease forces what the UN calls a “high level of interdependence between digital technology and creative industries,” how will we close the gaps to give creatives a better chance in the world that is emerging? How will we account to the theatre students who were recently forced to prepare for an exam three weeks earlier than planned? Especially when students from less privileged homes could not easily access online options. Are any of the people waving flags now thinking about solutions to these questions?

Artists often create and work alone, but it does not mean that we want to be forgotten. “Clear the way – I coming through,” SuperBlue proclaimed. The next time you attend a flag party, remember our worth. Jump around, make waves and raise a flag for the artists. We are here.

Dara E Healy is a performance artist, communications specialist and founder of the NGO, the Indigenous Creative Arts Network – ICAN

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"No flags for the artist"

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