Teddyson John’s Stripped Carnival Magic was more spectacle than spectacular

NIGEL CAMPBELL

If a patron went to Teddyson John’s Stripped: Carnival Magic concert at the National Academy for The Performing (NAPA), Port of Spain, on February 1, with no knowledge of the breadth of the advertised cast – seven stars in the soca/nu calypso pantheon, and a pair of St Lucian rising artists – they would have been entertained, until near the end when things got weird.

If a patron went to Stripped: Carnival Magic on February 1, aware of the full cast as advertised, they would have been entertained, but maybe slightly disappointed as four of the seven initially advertised guests were no shows.

If a reviewer from a newspaper covering Stripped: Carnival Magic on February 1, he would have noted the tragic denouement (a fancy word for the ending) of the concert that began with promise as eclipsing last year’s innovative Carnival music concert première. Excuses and apologies eclipsed the apogee of Skinny Fabulous owning the show that went too long before it was mercifully cut. Audience members were haemorrhaging when the weirdness went beyond the cute walk-ons and exits, and the humorous banter that had the audience in stitches. We were told by the star at the end that performers had conflicting gigs, and were late, and it was impossible to continue in the hope of a salvaging arrival.

Further investigation revealed ad hoc arrangements among soca artists that ignores the tenets of the modern music industry: no written contracts thus no obligation to follow one’s word, lax time management, allegations of misogyny and disrespect for the female-led production professionals, and a crippling descent into an arena where rehearsals are ignored leading to imperfections beyond daring improvisation. This is an ecosystem of amateurs in a world of professionals

The adage “the sum of the parts is greater than the whole” was played out here as each guest – Destra Garcia, Kes, Skinny Fabulous and St Lucians Kayo and Shemmy J – added their piece to what was promising to be special. Destra's voice is a national treasure. Power and clarity to hear her hit Lucy sung at a slower tempo and re-harmonised is to admire how the potential of this format of a Carnival music show would be a perfect complement to the Queen of Bacchanal. A theme that night was “look how far we have come,” and gratefulness for a career here. He joked as he bantered, “Teddy was a church boy. Destra too, we backslide. I saw her in St Lucia as a church boy, now she is on stage with me.”

This show on the surface was a showcase of “the many dimensions of soca,” a phrase said by Kees Dieffenthaller during his too short two-song set. In a fitted blue-green suit topped with a wide-brimmed mauve hat, the angelic-voiced Kees had people screaming while singing a couple of his lesser known hits. The absence of Jimmy October on his duet with Kes, Magic, should have been a signal that something was up in the air. However, to hear John acknowledge Kes’ influence on his career, one was left satisfied, as the show moved steadily along.

John’s melodically riveting Creme de la Creme was enhanced with the spoken word flow from Kayo, while he was the mentee tonight receiving the same “favour and forwards” that John received from those who aided his career, such as the late Blaxx and Ricardo Drue, who brought him into the soca fraternity here and ultimately to front line duties with D' All Stars family. It is clear that John is a great entertainer, easy in front of an audience, and funny without effort.

Soca tunes were remade as gospel manifestations and prayers – soca veneration. Again with the banter, “Somebody bring a basket, we going to take an offering.” Emotions were dynamic, happy one time, sad and reflective the next. At one point during the song, Dreaming, tears flowed as his dream did come true to perform at the Lord Kitchener Auditorium, after he watched the building for years, which resulted in a standing ovation. Teddyson's voice is made for R&B, so these musical transformations made sense.

Production design featured video testimonials before the guests came on stage. You saw and heard Vincentian Skinny Fabulous joke around on tape, but when he hit the stage, he owned it. The man's voice is his brand. Gruff-voiced and distinct he brought the audience alive on the Worst Behaviour/ Happiest Man Alive medley before Hurricane and When the Lights Go Down capped a stand-out set of re-imagined hits. Skinny was funny – “First of all, the show is called Stripped, so I am here for the ladies” – and glowingly entertaining – first, a spot-on impersonation of Machel Montano, then, as he is leaving, he teases loudly a cappella the phrase, “Famalay lay lay lay...I just wanted to say that.” Ovation erupted.

As time was approaching the two-and-a-half-hour mark, it was apparent to some, that some guests were not coming. Bajan star Alison Hinds opted for a gig at a Miami basketball event, Nadia Batson and Jimmy October were no-shows, and Mical Teja, the season’s busiest singer, was too late after doing a gig at another event. The attempt to pad the show in the hope of an arrival was tedious. This deficiency in programming marred an otherwise great show. A deep catalogue dive by the singer to re-cast past hits in a new light is worthy as it extends song’s lives and artists’ careers outside of Carnival.

Despite apologies by Teddyson John, audience members leaving seemed sated by what they heard and saw. High production value with sublime lighting design by Celia Wells and creative direction by Abeo Jackson set a high standard that should be copied by many artists in the fickle and faddish soca industry that discards and restarts annually. A new mindset to how artists do business may also lay the groundwork for a thriving cohort outside the Carnival. Stripped of some of the magic, behind the scenes, this spectacle could have been spectacular. A third attempt, in a new business context may not be frowned upon heavily.