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Chantuelle with a horn
With a sold-out auditorium, reflecting a similar demand as his previous concerts in 2015 and 2016, Charles was able to present in a well-produced show the history and story of the music that serves as a foundation for the traditions and rituals that have formed our Carnival for over 100 years.
What became evident, as the night moved on, was that those in the audience who did not know of the history and traditions of Carnival and the musical accompaniment would be inspired to recognise that the impetus for creativity in these islands is sustained by modern folk preserving traditions and creating avenues for new audiences.
The monologue of the Midnight Robber (Damian Whiskey) served as a precursor for the evening in which the whip crack of the jab jab, the chant of the Black Indian (Anderson Patrick) and the screech of the jab molassie resonated, juxtaposed, and syncopated with Charles and his band of American musicians to create new music that celebrates creole intelligence much the same way as a 19-year-old Walcott’s words in Henri Christophe did in the past.
Those sounds worked to enhance the harmonic response of the composer and the improvisations for soloists Godwin Louis on alto saxophone, Alex Wintz on guitar, and the brilliant Christian Sands on piano.
Augmented by the presence of Everald “Redman” Watson, “Lion” Osuna and young Kayode Charles, all on African percussion-djembe, dundun, conga and shak shak-drummer John Davis drove the band and the body of music to paths of enlightened surprise and elation.
The music of the Sweet Fingers Tambrin band of Tobago, the chantuelle’s call and response of the Claxton Bay tamboo bamboo band, the staccato tattoo on the Crix biscuit tins of the 2001 Jab Molassie band from Paramin were all given space to stand side by side with Charles’ musical answer to the history of repression and subjugation of the native drum sound that marked Carnival’s evolution.
A highlight for many was the sublime duet with pan master on the fourth movement of the “suite within a suite,” Black Echo, which charted the Afro-Caribbean response to the banning of the drum to the evolution of the pan.
The bawdy “walk and wine” of the Dame Lorraine and the flourish and parry of the bois man in the gayelle were the dances also given prominence by music that accounts for the numerous aspects of our rich Carnival history.
Etienne Charles is the chantuelle with a horn.
With this production he suggests that our annual modern Carnival celebrations and the events surrounding it have far to go to capture the ethos, the production values and, importantly, the intelligence displayed that night.
The celebration of Carnival: The Sound of a People travelled outside of the hall as the lavway continued with an impromptu sing-along by a satisfied audience of vintage calypsoes accompanied by Charles and the drummers. The Sound of a People was festive, for jazz in the Caribbean is improvised joy.