"I must say this year the socadrome is much better, everyone feels safe in here. We are seeing more police officers than masqueraders!"
Just one of the comments from revellers escaping the punishing pilgrimage to the Savannah stage. They paraded for row upon row of plastic chairs at the Jean Pierre Sports Complex. While organisers say the number of spectators was a vast improvement over last year's turnout, most reports suggest that attendance was middling at best.
Perhaps the organisers could have had the surplus of police officers fill out the stands for visual effect. Spectator interest wasn't any better at the main stage. As the camera crane swooped over the sprawling boards at the Queen's Park Savannah, the hundreds of empty seats were far more eye-catching than the invariably boring bands and embarrassingly weak choreography preceding the crossing of the stage. But how many masqueraders care about spectators anyway?
It is difficult to pinpoint exactly why attendance at major Carnival venues has plummeted over the past few years. Crime is a possible factor, fears of car-theft or worse, robbery with violence could have kept crowds away. There is also the possibility that there is diminished interest in the portrayals, the costumes simply fail to inspire. Live coverage commentators at the Queen's Park Savannah made sporadic references to "Monday wear."
This is a trend of recent vintage in which masqueraders, possibly loathe to "ruin" their Carnival costume on the first day, wear something bland and disposable on Carnival Monday (hey that's Tuesday wear too!). This works out well for the bands who have more crap to sell to "tusty" revellers, but who the hell wants to watch people chippin' across the stage in a non-costume?
I have always wondered, as we grappled through the ages with congestion of the bands on the streets, why Monday wasn't designated for a set number of bands to cross the Savannah stage, and Tuesday for another. In a two-day affair, why does everyone have to parade the stage on both days? Instead, spectators on the streets gather to see people in short pants and tank tops, revellers rendered spectators themselves.
Even the "ole mas" lacked the ingenuity and inventiveness of days past. Most players simply belched out crass, puerile riffs on current affairs. The music was, as usual, dreadful. Soca is now in full transition to EDM (electronic dance music) as artistes try to ape global trends. The International Soca Monarch show, while gobbling up millions in state funds, maintains its poor production standards. The artistes assail enlightened sensibilities with shoddy, senseless skits and awful caterwauling interspersed with rambling conversations with the audience.
The Calypso Monarch competition which is supposed to be our premier cultural event was even worse. The crop of calypsoes died on the vine, the calypsonians, having abandoned all pretense of singing, simply deliver their poorly-written speeches set to music.
For all the unavoidable realities of what Carnival has become, denial is as much a hallmark of the festival as is the limp revelry. Many voices, with the exception of vendors, described this carnival as "bess." It is quite possible that people are offering this opinion based on the season of fetes and not the street parade itself. The parade of the bands as a cultural asset has been subsumed by the season, which is primarily commercial in nature. The big event is no longer the climax of the Carnival season, but the muted after-party.
Change is inevitable, resistance is futile. We can either embrace or eschew this evolved festival, it won't make much difference in the end. The state, with the benefit of in-depth analysis of the festival today, should consider removing funding for Carnival. If business interests are taking the lead in reshaping this cultural tradition, then they should be the ones funding it given the immense profits they are making off the taxpayers' investment.
The Government should reserve funding for the preservation of traditional elements of Carnival. I attended the National Junior Panorama Finals and was blown away, not simply by the performances of the young pannists but by the enthusiasm of the crowd; each fed the other. Some of the bands obviously weren't ready for the stage, their performances sounding more like a tuning. No big deal, they are young and the most important thing is they are eager to carry on this tradition. This event, all things considered, was well attended.
So too were the National Stick fighting Finals. In fact, the seating at Skinner Park was filled to capacity as stickmen from across the country braved the Gayelle to buss people head. I don't think I have ever been to a Carnival event where there was such intensity, crowd excitement and buoyant pace.
Such traditions appear to carry on, just on the fringes of a larger festival that now appears bloated, riddled with gout and set to expire; all to exultations that this was the best Carnival ever!