By Mel Cooke, Freelance WriterWESTERN BUREAU:
T'WAS THE night before Tropical Storm Charlie came to town and preparations were in high gear at Weekenz Bistro and Bar on Constant Spring Road in St. Andrew.
They were hard at work on the 'calm' part, as poetry and live music continued as usual on Tuesday night.
With Connie Bell hosting and Mutabaruka on the turntables (or, rather, CD player), all was well in that little corner of the world, clear skies giving hardly an indication of the torrents predicted to come, though there may have been those who tossed a couple wishes at the two falling stars which trailed briefly through the sky.
The music preceded the poetry on Tuesday night, as an ever-changing cast of youngsters from California took the somewhat sparse audience on a musical journey that spanned the acoustic to rock, with a hint of bossa nova in the mix.
MUSICALLY CHORALE
The number of persons on stage ranged from a maximum of 12 for the jam of James Brown's Sex Machine to a numerically sparse to a musically-chorale sized two for a pair of acoustic renditions, one of which informed "I will never make the same mistake again."
A high level of organisation was displayed, with the musicians and singers two young ladies taking turns at lead and, in the end, blending their voices for the final song taking their positions on and off-stage as each song required. There was a relaxed atmosphere, as one smiling young lady apologised for using a sheet of paper to read the lyrics of Sex Machine, as the band had decided to do the piece only two days earlier.
When she put the rasp into the introduction and the band started the jam, there was no need for apologies and when she instructed "take it to the bridge" it was done correctly.
Percussions played a strong role in the showing, as one acoustic version was done with only the soft patter of congo drums, but all were back for the Beatles' Don't Let Me Down, the pair of lead singers looking at each other and laughing as they fell out of step on one particular harmony. They were joined by a third voice, which had gone acoustic earlier and would be poetic later, the tempo of the song picking up as they chugged along to the end.
That third voice belonged to Chelsea, and she put stanzas in the group's showing with a poem which beat back all attempts to lock her into a racial stereotype, as she started out by stating "I was born from a womb of racial fusion."
Her rapid fire delivery rolled through the self-definitions (at birth "a beautiful, bouncing, bi-racial girl"), then hitting the refrain that she must have been asked so many times: "so where do I come from?"
She did answer where she was going, saying; "I just keep my eyes on Zion and let bygones be bygones."
REDEMPTION SONG
The California Crew ended with an acoustic version of Redemption Song, two voices blending against the patter of percussions.
Connie Bell explained that they group was on an intensive 10-day trip to Bromley in St. Ann and were from a cultural programme in California which used art to steer young people away from violence and other social maladies. She said it was the second year that persons from the programme had performed at Weekenz, the first group being from Chicago.
It was poetry time and Kasha employed the harmonica of Stephen in opening with Hush, which turned out to be not a soothing word but a way of escape, as he said Hush daughter/No cry pon I/Dat was las' year/My locks too long, too heavy/Your salt I don't want.
IN CONTEXT
Performing with hands folded and the harmonica being used between lines, Kasha put his poetry in context by saying We neva get no '60s struggles/We neva get no '70s fight. However, he showed he was up to the time when the harmonica switched to a dancehall beat.
Mutabaruka followed up with Tanya Stephens asking Hey Mister.
Chelsea came back with a pair of poems, including Tears of Harlot Skies, before 'returning poet' Andrea Bonner read poems from her upcoming book Cloudburst, which will be released in September. Third Hell Street was a look at life in 'farin' on a particular night, in which I feel trapped within these stinking city walls, but in the end day lights on this poem/I will write again tomorrow.
The Indictment of the Caribbean Movement in America presented the accomplishments of Caribbean people, covering persons such as Garvey and Marley, but not leaving out African-Americans such as Martin Luther King and W.E. DuBois.
The bonfire, which had been lit previously, was put to a wet end as Bonner finished, sending smoke billowing up and out. With a pair of rappers using tracks to deliver their rhymes, then Mutabaruka picking with the recorded music, the night was over.
The calm was finished. It was time to go prepare for the storm.
