An edited version of this review was published in the T&T Newsday as “Izza Riddum shows orchestral soca, calypso is more than fete music” on 5 June 2024
At the end of it all, the Izza Riddum, a Soca and Calypso Concert by the National Philharmonic Orchestra (NPO), held last Wednesday at the Lord Kitchener Auditorium at NAPA, represented a paradigm shift in how local audiences engage with calypso and soca, and more importantly, it showcased the commercial appeal of this type of music in the hall packed almost to the rafters. In a two hour spectacle that included sung calypso by Krisson Joseph and steelpan via the National Steel Symphony Orchestra (NSSO) as adjuncts to the NPO performance, the local canon of music was put front and centre for a paying audience to appreciate, or not, in a form that moves away from the recorded original. Subjective criticism was vindicated by the rapturous applause and ovation as objective indicators that this music and performance was making sense.
The calypsos of Black Stalin and the modern soca of Machel Montano, Kes, Olatunji, Farmer Nappy, and more were all given Western classical arrangements by music director and conductor Dr Roger Henry and musicians, principal cellist Wasia Ward, flautist Martina Chow-Antoine, and trumpeter Barry Homer that forced a deeper understanding of how calypsos and soca can be more than music for a circumstance: a fete, a Carnival parade, a tent. Melodies become more important than words and even rhythm. A new context for the music allowed for the arranger to invent and reinterpret. Listening became important, and the audience showed appreciation for these adventures outside of a jam.
As the concert opened, one was taken aback by a number of details that holistically, made a statement that the NPO was finally ready for “prime time.” The theatricality of it all awed immediately. One saw a lighting design that dazzled, yet worked effectively. One heard clearly the brightness of the percussion, and the lack of discordance so prevalent in local orchestras — brass bands and recent string aggregations. The sometimes grand flourishes of conductor Dr. Henry with his fashion statement of red socks juxtaposed against his black suit, were an apt metaphor for the thrill and delight of this young cohort of musicians, resplendent in formal attire as per protocol, exciting their instruments towards interpreting hot musical genres without being cosquelle. Creole philharmonic. This was showtime!
Martina Chow’s arrangement of Black Stalin’s “We Can Make It” had elements of a march. Wasia Ward made “Savannah Grass” was reminiscent of a John Williams space fantasy movie theme with the bombast of declarative horns, yet also incorporated percussion that hinted at the tropics in places. That wonderful moment when the thrill and awe of the audience becomes tangible as it finally recognises a familiar melody inside a slow passage or after a pizzicato string arrangement, was repeated often. Audible gasps and murmurs, then sing-alongs happened famously, without instruction, for “Hookin’ Me” and “DNA” arranged by Dr. Henry and Ms. Ward, respectively.
A transition via spoken word/rapso synopsis of Izza Riddum, with drums and dance, allowed for the calypso element of the concert to happen. Krisson Joseph singing “Is the Rhythm They Want” by King Radio was sublime, as “kaiso with strings” made for audience participation. Singing Sandra’s “Nobody Wins a War” written by Tobago Crusoe, with an a cappella introduction then simple guitar accompaniment, transformed calypso lyrics into a Bob Dylan-esque folk music anthem. Calypso is eternal and varied. Three vintage cricket calypsos — Kitchener’s “Classic Calypso”, Lord Beginner’s “Victory Calypso”, and Lord Relator’s “Gavaskar” — along with David Rudder’s “Rally Round the West Indies”, this last one done with the NSSO, were Joseph’s responses to his statement that “some people are coming here to take a trophy that rightfully belongs to us.” Better microphone control would have moved great to perfection.
Barry Homer’s almost cinematic arrangement of “Engine Room” had the strings tempering the energy of the percussion, and the balance of the solo instruments did not allow them to punch through. Dr. Henry’s Black Stalin tribute medley — “Come with it”, “Dorothy”, “Black Man Feel to Party” were heard — had the feel, at times, of an almost 1950s Brazilian music fantasy of tropical delight. With horns, winds and strings having their space to show off, a bottle and spoon percussion break near the end made sure this West Indian orchestral music did not veer too much into a derivative space.
After the intermission, bookended by soca hits and road marches by Kes, Iwer George, Bunji Garlin and Mical Teja, all dynamically transformed and freely interpolating motifs from other artist’s like Nailah Blackman’s “Come Home”, the NSSO were presented awkwardly behind the empty chairs left onstage by the NPO. Bad staging did not matter, however, as the loudest ovation was reserved that evening for the steelband. Pan is participatory with much singing, shaking and dancing in seats. Pan patriotism ruled. One looks forward to the NSSO innovating to evolve the persistent 20th century steelband performance and arrangement paradigm into a new century.
The final piece on the programme was the final movement of Dr. Henry’s second symphony, “Dance Tan Tan”, a work that “explores rhythm as a creative and sustaining force in music,” and that was dedicated to a legendary Peter Minshall Carnival Queen. Performed with the NSSO, it’s a peek at what the Caribbean sonic aesthetic can be. In Trinidad and Tobago, steelband arrangers are one step towards finding an aesthetic that is centred in the Caribbean rhythms and melodies, this work was another. A repeated “island” montuno motif that sustains and speaks to local audiences’ DNA was heard throughout without being boring. Broad sweep, dynamic rhythm and orchestration, it’s all there.
Many foreign composers, coming to the islands to write a West Indian piece, miss the nuances of rhythm when trying to imagine the Caribbean. People have identified Brazil in its samba and bossa nova music. This work was different. Legendary composers Aaron Copeland and George Gershwin had the American landscape and its people in mind with their symphonies, Roger Henry had the island folk and their accent, cadence, speech and rhythm in his mind. This was a complete piece that valorises the collective “us” here in Trinidad and Tobago.
Folk music and calypso has a place in the canon of orchestral music with this concert and the compositions of local artists, and critically, in this innovative work by Dr. Henry. Audiences want local repertoires from these aggregations. The packed auditorium — mirroring an earlier packed UTT-APA Theatre 1 in 2014 when concertmaster Simon Brown with his then Ibis Ensemble did their interpretation of the early music of George ‘Lovey’ Baillie and Lionel Belasco — indicates that desire for local, and a willingness to pay for it.
As NAPA takes control of these artistic entities, NSSO and NPO, one looks forward to improvements like indoor Wi-Fi, printed or digital programmes, and optimal scheduling to avoid after-work road traffic allowing for patron arrival before and not during showtime. The genesis of the NPO lies way back in the remnants of Patrick Manning’s ill-fated orchestra “made up of foreign qualified musicians (p. 503).” The work of Roger Henry and the NPO, and certainly with Izza Riddum, has buried that history and made a statement, long overdue since the NPO’s formal beginnings in 2014, that there is space for a wider understanding of our compositions as part of a canon outside of popular and folk music. This was an apex moment.
© Nigel A. Campbell. All Rights Reserved.
