Showing posts with label national identity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label national identity. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

... "somebody pass me the bullbud!" ...

... in 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue ... so goes the enduring children's ditty ... and the rest is history, as they say, when it comes to the expansionary re-population of western lands known as The Americas and the Caribbean ...

... centuries of European-driven enterprise, enslaved African labour, indentured Asians and the inevitably cross-fertilizing populations of their descendants with more recent arrivals have evolved into societies that reflect blended identities jubilantly ... perhaps moreso than many an older culture ...

... this is a particularly identifiable feature of societies with numerically strong African bloodlines ...














... intra-regional variations abound of course, usually boasting contagious music designed primarily for partying and collective street celebrations ... from Rio de Janeiro to Toronto via The Caribbean and New Orleans, adapted African rhythms and body movement characterise carnivals, Mardi Gras style ...

... I got a taste of the recent Antigua Carnival festivities which were dominated by The Burning Flames ... part of the musical nucleus that supported Montserrat calypsonian Arrow on his huge "Hot Hot Hot" hit from 1983 ... this year's boom tune is the catchy "Bullbud" ... a coinage for a stiff homemade whipping implement fashioned from a dried donkey dong (no photo) ...














... people form themselves into tribe-like troupes for the week of ca na val ... they function like mini-economies crossed with all-inclusive clubs ... for a set participation tithe you get to wave your flag in community for the week-long party ... all day and all night, without worrying where your next drink is coming from ... sleep is the only casualty ...














... jump-up provides an annual opportunity to shuffle-bounce down high street as bare as you dare ... a stage on which a bureaucracy-bound civil servant or a by-rote clerk can release her inner virago ... where a post-partum silhouette cramps no style and reminds you that real-life ratios do not favour the svelte ... as pleasing to observe as the latter may be ...















... women of every description plot all year to assemble elaborate ensembles ... men too seize the opportunity to experience the glam thrill of face paint, glitter, lipgloss and leopard prints ...

... comfortable footwear, that will last the week but you are prepared to ruin, and bloodshot eyes complete the uniform ...














... some seize on the parade for an entirely different type of opportunity ... gettin' on bad ... this paradox of public anonimity provides a controlled outlet for the full range of our human expression ... including the eroto-sexuality which exists in all of us but still can shock and acquire taboo through denial in purportedly polite societies ...

... it's a family show for the people ... bring da kids, they're people too ... and sure as the sun shines, one day when they grow up they'll wanna let off some similar steam themselves ...














... call it Afro-Caribbean vaudeville if you like, musical street theatre ... or you could just regard it as island flava ... the essense of which is a hereditary override of an overseer's set of rules and mores ... a mindset of liberation ... in this case commemorating the original August 1st 1834 Emancipation Day in Antigua ...

... wha' you lookin' at? ... you don't like the holes in my hosiery? ... kiss mi backside! ... den come dance nuh ...













... the first week in August also sees Jamaicans celebrate the 1962 Independence from Britain with official fanfare ... in fact, all over the post-colonial world freedom triggers conscious revelry and unconscious sense-memory ... this is impetus for nation-building and fortification of cultural identity ...

... last lap, the summary parade on the final day makes for myriad photo-ops and embroiders the social fabric too ...














... of course these ain't the old days and somebody's gotta pay for all this ... corporate sponsors, like telecom player Digicel, prominent local and regional businesses from haberdasheries to motor dealerships find, in participation, a way to light up brand recognition and par-tay at the same time ...

... I suspect those that prosper most are the ones that quench the thirst and fuel the fun with spirits (rum) and beverage (beer) ...














... it would make sense that there's a certain amount of costume material re-cycling from year to year ... and ... I would like to believe that no actual peacocks, birds of paradise, or endangered species were harmed in pursuit of plumage ...













... with there being next to no trouble to speak of, it's clear a good time was had by all ...

... note to self ... wherever I'm at in a year's time I'm gonna find me some j'ouvert action ... an' get on bad!

Sunday, May 16, 2010

... maple magic ... and music ...

... even though I periodically take a break from caffeine by giving up coffee for months at a time I count myself among those addicted to the brown brew ... medium-strong with a little honey for sweetener is how I take it ... no milk, mochas or macchiato to alter the experience for me ... then the unthinkable happened ... I tried a Canadian grind called Muskoka Maple which hails from Huntsville, Ontario ... there's something about maple sweetness that warms those of us who have spent significant time in this cold country on the edge of the habitable world ...

... the maple leaf imprimateur was everywhere when I got off the plane in Vancouver ... a cultural identifier amplified by the Winter Olympics roadshow which just blew through town ... my American-Airlines itinerary routed me through Miami and Dallas so it felt pleasantly drama-free to meet a receptive Canadian welcome and a freestanding, bar-code reading dalek machine that accepted my declarations at face-value ... admitting me readily to the country of my citizenship ...














... the Swiss-effect passport and experiences like that civil re-entry are big deals to people from other countries and those who have travelled to other countries ... call me naive but I believe that's most of us ... then ... give a thought to the folks who have yet to travel beyond their own borders ... their relationships with home soil are naturally ... colloidal ... where prejudice, pride and protectiveness may feature but ... make no mistake ... the national identity of contemporary Canada is maple-sweetened and strikingly nuanced with complex diversity at the same time ...

... I was here in Hollywood North on business ... usually more than enough reason to do my thing without pausing to smell the cherry blossoms or to regard the grander signs sent to ease the preoccupied mind ... but as fate would have it ... I was about to be treated to some maple magic without actively seeking it out ...













... "so you're an actor ... what restaurant do you work at?..." goes the joke which came to mind when I was approached backstage by Mark Burgess (Dr. Jeremy Franklin on Stargate Universe) ... we worked together in a restaurant a lifetime ago ... it had been many moons since we last saw each other and ... coincidentally ... our former co-worker Jowi Taylor was also in town ...

... Uganda-born Jowi (a Luo name meaning "buffalo") shared mix-tapes with me back in the day before we went in different directions ... I persist as an actor and he has become an alchemist of sorts ... a manufacturer of sacred relics ... a Canadian consciousness-raiser-on-a-mission ... an honorary Buffalo Soldier fighting the good fight with his media-art ... he's most famous perhaps for a guitar made up of sixty-plus pieces of Canadiana which has come to symbolize the national DNA to the extent that it tirelessly tours the country to be experienced, posed with and played by many ... the Canadian Mint even honored the effort with a commemorative coin shaped like a guitar pick ...









... nuff respec' Jowi ... only the passion of a person inspired by the sometimes ill-defined chromosomal weave of Canada could have conceptualised such disparate components into a whole greater than the sum of its parts ... the six string nation guitar ...

... a canoe paddle belonging to Pierre Trudeau ... the only piece ever taken from the three hundred year old Golden Spruce of Haida Gwaii ... Great Bear Lake rock, whale bone, antlers, iconic hockey keepsakes ... pieces of a prairie grain-elevator and the Newfoundland lighthouse that recieved the Titanic distress signal ... black cowboy John Ware, Metis rebel Louis Riel and author Lucy Maud Montgomery are represented, as are Acadian, Doukhobor, Africville artifacts, Montreal club memorabilia and plenty more ... comprising this tangible living history ... I felt compelled to imbue this comprehensive statement with my energy ... and get something intangible in return ...













... Gordon Lightfoot, Colin James, Steven Fearing ... the list of talented players making music on this labour-of-love is long ... I like to think each one finds extra inspiration in the instrument and leaves a bit of soul in the hallowed hollow of Voyageur ... as the six-string-nation guitar is now known ...

... maybe the next strummer will vibe the noodling two-string Jamaica Farewell/Linstead Market melody I plucked out of it ...













... as if the reassuring emotional comfort in making Jamaican sounds on this Canadian guitar, with renewed friendships, over a pint at a popular spot on a spring day in Vancouver wasn't enough ... I could also rest assured in the knowledge that friends in Ontario had sent me a large bag of Muskoka Maple coffee ... effectively bridging the width of this expansive country ... magic! ...

... big up y'self Canada!