Portal de Periódicos da CAPES

Performing Gender in the Trinidad Calypso

2004; University of Texas Press; Volume: 25; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1353/lat.2004.0008

1536-0199

Hope Munro Smith,

Media, Gender, and Advertising

It is a Saturday night in Port of Spain, and we have just arrived at the Spektakula forum, one of the main calypso tent venues for the 1998 season. Our hostess has only two tickets with her, so she sends me to the ticket office, because they like to pad the audience with "tourists like me" to have a diverse house (and create a good impression among foreigners). We then enter the "tent"—no longer the tapia huts of old, but a full-sized theatre, recently converted to air-conditioned comfort. The four seats we have purchased are in two different sections, but our hostess takes me to the better seats near the front of the house. At stage left is the house band, Wayne Bruno's Rapid Response Orchestra, seated behind a partition decorated with colorful banners. The house is already near capacity, but since the show has yet to start, many people are still liming around the bar and refreshment stands inside the tent. Others lime outside the front entrance, where a number of vendors of snacks and beverages will remain until the show concludes around 1:00 or 2:00 A.M. The band then goes into an instrumental of the Caribbean jazz/pop variety, perhaps to set the crowd into a relaxed mood. Tommy Joseph, Spektakula's emcee, then takes the stage directly in front of the bandstand for his monologue. He is difficult for me to understand at first, but I soon learn that his material is similar to what I have heard ordinary Trinis joke about: plenty of sex and scandal. The atmosphere is like a Vegas floorshow, or even the old days of vaudeville, with Tommy Joseph returning to the stage between acts to keep the audience's interest. We are treated to several unique acts, including "Soca Elvis" and a drag impersonation of Tina Turner. There is plenty of lag time, and that is when I realize the crucial role of the emcee in keeping the pace and even saving a bad performance by getting the Calypsonian off the stage without causing further embarrassment. Another advantage is the layout of the tent and the liming areas; [End Page 32] it is easy to break away and go to the bar or even step outside until the action onstage heats up again. One of my personal favorites is an hilarious party song by Nikki Crosby called "Yeah Right"; I love it because it is right on target in describing the "lyrics" Trini men "wash your ears out" with when they are trying to get your interest. With intermission, my first night at a Trinidad calypso tent lasts nearly four hours. The programmers seem to have our fatigue level in mind: weighing the heavier social commentaries towards the beginning of the show, while the second half seemed engineered to increase gradually the energy level. Some of the more popular soca singers take the stage, including Denise Belfon, whose act demonstrates why she earned the nickname "Saucy Wow." The evening concludes with the uplifting "High Mas" by David Rudder, during which we finally feel free to take to our feet as we comply with Rudder's command to put up our hands and "sing praise." This change in physical reaction to the music also is a cue for the tent management to start herding the audience out of the tent, still singing "High Mas," as they head for transport home or more liming elsewhere in town. Experiencing calypso music in such a context, one is reminded how the genre is much more than tune and text: it is a nuanced performance that convinces the audience that the identity of Calypsonian is identical to the persona enacted on stage. Most studies on calypso have focused on song lyrics to the exclusion of other aspects of the genre as a musical expression. However, most popular music involves expressive strategies used by singers in interpreting these lyrics. Musicians create particular song...