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Storyteller, I



MY introduction to this blog (Pages: "This Blog Because") opens with the admittance: I take photos for the story, not for the art.
     You'll see I acknowledge that's a strange thing to say even as I am setting out wholeheartedly to create a blog that is "phoTocenTric, expressing how passionaTTe I am about all things quinTessenTially T&T." 
    I love telling stories, see. I was born to a line of storytellers. My career was completely centered on storytelling. Life is full of stories, and I mean to share those few I'm fortunate enough to collect as imagery with you.
     I also outlined in the intro: 

I have three categories for my type of photos:-


  • The Scoop: When I set out to look for and capture some subject specific in tone, energy or theme and achieve success
  • The Seize: When my path crosses what can only be described as a “photo op,” and I don’t let the opportunity slip by me. That whole carpe diem thing, nuh
  • The Snatch: My intrepid media maven forte. It’s the same set-up as The Seize, but without the luxury of focus time. This is point and shoot on adrenaline. Or clicking with fingers crossed. Or whistling while looking the other way a la misdirection 

     The three photos I'm using as examples were all taken on a trip to Trinidad and Tobago's historical site, Fort George, located on the hills to the north of Saint James, with an exhilarating view of the Gulf of Paria (examples of that will come in time). 
The back of the prison cell was on a little hillock. I wanted someone looking into the dark, but not in a contrived way. So I situated myself and waited. Sure enough, this foreign visitor provided me with what I needed. This is the Scoop.
The cannons of Fort George face several directions out to sea. I was walking the line taking different angles, then noticed that where these pretty, fluffy clouds were gave an impression of smoke having bellowed out of cannons upon firing. Could not have wished for a more perfect set up. This is the Seize.
On the thrilling drive up the steep, winding way, we came upon a goati caught in the middle of the road and undecided which way to bolt, left or right. Instead, he charged straight toward us, veering from the wheels and tearing off down the hill. I barely had time to stick my cell phone out the right back window, and really did not expect to have gotten anything. But I got something. Woohoo!That's the Snatch. 
creaTiviTy
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In Sight Story

Standing before greatness: the grand art of master LeRoy Charke
WE ARE the sacred and the profane.
     In Trinidad and Tobago, the two biggest festivals, celebrated by people from all walks of life, of many different religions and of "every creed and race," are one seen as holy and one seen as anything but: Christmas and Carnival.
     I don't use the word profane in a remonstrating way, though. It's not like saying good and evil; but day and night, sky and earth, warm and cool.
     There are many who call Carnival vulgar; but depending on the religious person you are listening to you will hear Christmas described as the same. And even when you hear tell of the prurience of Carnival, when you look at some of what is called that, you realise, "Oh. It's just dancing."
     If you link to The Jhaye-Q Brew Archive, you may deem that I myself am as those who absolutely denounce all things Mas'. I'm not like that. 
     I have a love/hate relationship with Carnival, true. But you can only have a love/hate relationship with something when you truly love it. Otherwise it would just be hate.
     I appreciate the art in the Mas': the costumes, the music, the pageantry, the showmanship, the word, song and power.

The art inside outside


     As such, it made sense to start my Carnival is Storytelling homage by focusing on the aspect of art. 
     It may seem an odd choice to go inside a calm, quiet, steady space to begin the highlighting of a loud, wild, transitory outdoor festival. However, if there is truth to the adage, "Further out is in," then the reverse must also hold water: "Further in is out."
     By entering deeper into the art of Carnival via art on Carnival; by appreciating it softly through the eyes of those who love it so much they had to create something wonderful and tangible to honour it, we will be helped to walk through the outer, exposed, naked layers of High Mas' with eyes altered and wider open to appreciate all of what it is made.
Or I could be full of sh**. 
Regardless, walk with me (or chip or wave or wine like true Trinis do whenever we get a chance, but especially for this amazing festival) through the season's exhibit at the National Museum of Trinidad and Tobago now; and then beyond to the streets of sweet TnT for Carnival 2019 (and even some of 2018).

Shine on

For free to download Carnival, etc., photos, link to: Jhaye-Q Trinbago

Carnival is Storytelling

Section One: Inside the Outside


Inviting, is it not? A mélange of modern and more classical media, brought together to pay homage to Mas', at the National Museum and Art Gallery of Trinidad and Tobago. As you're reading this, it may still be installed. So if you are in TnT, make a turn and take in the splendour.

I love that one of the first pieces you see is this little Pan Man, clearly lovingly crafted by an artist who may forever remain unknown. I hope he does not get lost among all the large, colourful fare. I hope that others truly see him, too, and wish that his creator could have been given the kudos he deserves to his face.

From sweet to incendiary. The Midnight Robber breathes metaphoric fire with his words. The way the Blue Devils do it leaves you speechless. James Solomon: Blue on Blue -- Devil's Breath


I am she of the unadorned face, but I, too, have longed for the liberating power of donning the paint, the powder, the mask; thereby, ironically, to go naked in the world. Look deeply, though. Are we any different, where it counts? Nyla Singh: Pagwa Face


Amerindian Illumination by Natasha Amber-Shaw, was prophetic, as it turned out. The Carnival Band of the Year 2019 winner was entitled, Stained Glass, and it seems to have danced out of the same creative inspiration circle from which this mesmerisinig central piece sprouted.


You cannot help but be drawn in for a closer look. Maybe, like I did, you walk around and around, seeking a vantage that would let you see all the "figures" at once. But it seemed at least one always disappeared. Such shifting forms. Natasha Ambere-Shaw: Amerindian Illumination

I wondered if the artist of this mock-diptych is as much a fan of Wendy Pini's Elf Quest artwork as am I. Ann Judy Joseph-Mungal: Carnival Vibes

"Watch yuhself with me on the road!" this menacing Blue Devil, a mainstay of Monday Night mas', seems to say. Mariela Bruzual: Eye See You


At the entrance you were welcomed by Rhythm & Harmony. You are sent on your way in the loving same way. Art by Natasha Amber-Shaw, a visual ode to our Carnival's Panorama Steelband music festival.
creaTiviTy
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To Be or Not To Business

The message on the banner, if lived by, could help us DO all kinds of uplifting business.
Photo by Jhaye-Q

DOH is a starring word in local calypso and soca. Like wine, wave, jump; just not as noticeable a verb because it's less directly connected to wild dancing.
       "DOH back-back on me."
       "Ah tell yuh DOH touch me."
       "He DOH like ugly."
       "Ah DOH want to wuk for Carnival."
       DOH. Or "don't," to the uninitiated in our Trini-speak.
       The recent mother of all Road March tunes (the song that is most played on Carnival Monday and Tuesday for people to jump-up in their costumes on the streets and to cross the grand stage) was "We Jammin' Still," by MX Prime and the Ultimate Rejects (who look so presentable and acceptable I sense the name is ironic).
"The city could bun down, we jammin' still!"
       It was brilliant; and I don't just mean the beat you could dance to. 
       I mean the multi-layered message behind it that was an aggregate, a callaloo, of satire, socio-political commentary, subversive rant and, in no small measure, an insurgent yawp rallying us to find our way back to being better. As in: you're sick, then you're better.
       So about a year after that I saw a guy wearing a Tee with the words: "We DOH business." Translation from Trini, "We don't give a damn!"
       I instantly disliked the jersey.
       Then I realised it was actually meant to be the sub-division refrain from the Road March in question: "We DOH business. (Uhruh!!!) We DOH business. (Uhruh!!!)"
       And because I liked the song, I stepped sideways in my psyche and assessed the message from an altered state.
       I thought of my beautiful, bountiful, so often backward country, and was moved to speculate about the strident statement, "What if we took out the 'h.' What would it effect?"

Shine on
creaTiviTy
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