Dimanche blah
Posted: Friday, March 19, 2004

by Terry Joseph

There must be among us those who remember two or three lines from the songs that earned Chalkdust this year's National Calypso Monarch title and cash prize of $250,000 on Carnival Sunday night but, between that time and yesterday, I haven't run into one such person.

Let me caution that this is not a comment about the Dimanche Gras judges for, given the field, their findings were right on target. We may, however, wish to look at the philosophy or process that delivered unto them the competition finalists but there too, the proposition is exceedingly complex.

Nor are we on Chalkie's work for he delivered well-crafted songs but, like far too many of his calypso colleagues, the six-time winner of the art's highest annual award may have taken the occasion much too seriously, focusing more intently on prompt returns than the future and promulgation of the very art that brought them such rewards.

What resulted was nearly four hours of the premier show of Trinidad and Tobago Carnival, the quintessential fun and dance festival, being dedicated to incisive songs, some of great depth and pathos, lulling hundreds into deep slumber-hardly the image or ambience touted in this country's tourism brochures.

Continuous lament, massaged into a litany of complaints, tabulation of serious crime and armchair analysis of parochial social and political problems prevailed, in a show deliberately scheduled to usher two full days of street-dancing and general jollification. In short, but for the intervention of a handful of songs, the calypso segment of Dimanche Gras was as exhilarating as a protracted funeral service.

Curiously, the majority of calypsoes performed detailed unassailable reasons why no one should visit Trinidad and Tobago, be it for Carnival or other forms of relaxation, hardly a defensible motive for disbursing nearly $1 million from the State's coffers, except what masqueraded as cash prizes was primarily intended as funding for research into chronic insomnia.

Not for the first time, we consequently find ourselves in the awkward position of having to seriously ponder whether our National Calypso Monarch should be included on missions going abroad to promote Carnival or the country of its origin, for fear audiences we wish to impress will contrarily believe "Trinidad in the Cemetery", or become thoroughly confused trying to extricate the core message of "Chalkie the Fishmonger".

Of course, Chalkie sniffs a personal attack out of any comment that mentions his name or sobriquet but this is not about him or, for that matter, any of the other 11 contestants because, on the evidence, they sang songs that would give them best shot at the purse; working within familiar and apparently unyielding paradigms.

This is, however, about a Carnival show we hawk to the world as our premier event, one ticket-purchasers expect will, among its deliverables, capture and reflect the festival's fundamental effervescence and create a mood consistent with the joie de vivre of colourful street parades that immediately follow.

The challenge for the Trinbago Unified Calypsonians Organisation (TUCO), custodians of the template that brings to Dimanche Gras this country's finest, must therefore be to find a mechanism through which a more engaging contest emerges, a design that does not make patrons feel persecuted for supporting this precious indigenous art.

Because the calypso final component of Dimanche Gras features polarised concepts of concert and contest, a unique problem arises but at its core, actual song content presents the production with its largest single difficulty. While the festival is being propelled by one type of music, we are busily awarding hefty prizes and noble titles for champions of a distinctly different variety on the premise of maintaining tradition.

What seems to have eluded calypsonians is the fact that these concepts weren't always mutually exclusive. When Sparrow won his first title with "Jean and Dinah" in 1956, it was humorous social commentary sung at the dance-music tempo of that period. Even when the terms of the contest changed in 1958, requiring two songs from each singer, the beat and wit of earlier examples was retained for many years, epitomised by four consecutive victories by the Mighty Duke beginning in 1968.

But somewhere along the way, slippage occurred. Soca, the successor festival music, was frowned upon. Purists demanded "serious kaiso" and the authorities responded, bringing us to the pass where the once sold-out show began to lose audience in droves and to this year's tabled proposal for consolidating the shrinking house by playing to only the southern side of its massive stage.

Happily, there are 16 spectacular costumes in the King and Queen of Carnival competition final occurring simultaneously at Dimanche Gras, which helps to rescue latter-day productions. As clearly demonstrated by the 1999 attempt to separate the Calypso Monarch final, audiences shied away from the event, a signal unfortunately misread by TUCO, who thought it was simply presented on an inappropriate night.

But if calypso does not keep step with the changing face of Carnival and, for instance, contemplate having each singer do only one song, not even The Merry Monarch himself will be able to arrange a pardon from the death sentence facing Dimanche Gras.

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