Warriors of the pan

Culture Matters

DARA E HEALY

“…the Old Brigade organised their own Calypso King Competition at Mucurapo Stadium on Dimanche Gras night…and offered a variety show that included bongo dancing, Shango dancing, a steelband competition and ‘an exotic feature dance by Princess Myola’…Police refused the steelbands permission to perform and thus forced the organisers to omit an important item from their programme."

– Gordon Rohlehr, Calypso & Society in Pre-Independence Trinidad

AS WITH many of our cultural forms, the evolution of the steelband has not been an easy one. Tomorrow, as pan aficionados, commentators and limers gather in their thousands to witness another pan semifinals, few will be thinking about this history of struggle in the excitement of the Savannah dust, North Stand and the feeling of freedom after being deprived of this experience.

Few will also remember the intimate, early links between calypso and steelpan. As Rohlehr documents, Lord Kitchener was the first calypsonian “to capture the sound and rhythm of the steelband,” in his calypso Beat of the Steelband.

In that first steelband calypso, he mentions the names of some of the players from the Bar 20 steelband who put their own energy into the way the instrument sounded. “Zigilee, Pops and Battersby/They coming with a semitone melody…/Port of Spain was catching afire/When the steelband was crossing the Dry River/Zigilee, leader of the ping-pong/Had people jumping wild in the town.”

After WWII, the return to the streets allowed for greater visibility for the steelband, but fighting and a warrior-like image of "panmen" caused much debate in the society about the legitimacy of the entire sector. The fighting was, of course, an expression of frustration at their socio-economic status, constant censorship and lack of appreciation for the art form.

But it was also part of a ritual of manhood. As Lovelace writes, “Desperadoes and Calvary Hill…had been for years locked in a war that they themselves must have created out of their own need to cultivate and uphold that spirit of rebellion and warriorhood.”

However, there are always two sides to every story. For instance, after the Belmont riots of 1948 and other skirmishes, Atilla pointed a finger at the police for starting the trouble. In his calypso, he recalled that he was listening to sweet music, “It was the tintinnabulation of the iron band/When suddenly policemen drove up in a van/With big stick charging furiously/As though they were attacking Nazis in Germany.”

In those early years, creative pioneers in other fields sought to establish links with the pan. Beryl Mc Burnie’s Little Carib Dance Company was asked to perform in the 1950 Dimanche Gras after impressing audiences with her folk performances of 1948 and 1949. Mc Burnie included the Invaders Steelband in her ensemble for the Dimanche Gras stage, causing other bands to believe Invaders had turned their back on the grassroots origins of pan. Some felt that this was actually “the major reason for the Invaders/Tokyo clash” of 1951.

Interestingly, 1951 was also the year that the first national steelband was formed to go to the United Kingdom to perform. As Errol Hill says, the band was “given an impressive-sounding name: The Trinidad All Steel Percussion Orchestra, shortened to TASPO.” Naturally, TASPO impressed with their ability to play not only traditional calypsoes and local music, but jazz and classical pieces as well.

Fortunately, we no longer subscribe to the idea that respectability for our cultural forms should come from being able to interpret European and other Western forms as in those early days. Indeed, in the steelband competition aspect of the 1950 Dimanche Gras, the bands played waltzes and other dance tunes which some felt was necessary to move pan “from vulgarity…towards attractiveness.”

Tomorrow, we will witness a further evolution of the warriorhood, experimentation and musical genius of pan. We will hear not just calypso, but soca and other hybrid forms of music being played on the pan. We will marvel at the technique of the flag women and at how many young people are bouncing under the shimmering décor of the pan racks. And some of us will remember those first warriors and be grateful for the ability of pioneers like Lord Kitchener to envision the indomitable spirit within the pan.

I give thanks to Prof Gordon Rohlehr whose scholarship helped reinforce our sense of self and belonging to this space. A literary warrior has transitioned. Thank you, rest in peace.

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