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Missing Mas at the T Party
Written by : Stephen Spark
Location : London
Photographer : Peter Hogan
Posted : Sep 5, 2007 : 4:30:44 AM |
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Mind the Gap
“Is it over”, asked the pretty Japanese tourist at about 3 o’clock. She looked shocked when told that at least 50 more mas and steel bands were due to pass this way. As we’d only seen three mas bands, two samba groups, a steel band and a commercial float over the past two and a half hours, her surprise was understandable. And even at 5.30pm less than half the carnival groups had come past.
At the judging point and round the corner at Trinidad Hill it was hard to understand what was causing the delay, as there was no congestion to be seen. In fact, apart from expectant faces along the railings there was very little to be seen, as much of the time the road was completely empty in the long gaps between bands. Yet over to the west, Ladbroke Grove was as tight-packed as the Northern Line in rush hour, and bands were spending hours jammed between fuming trucks and raucous static sounds.
Surely this couldn’t be blamed – once again – on the Met’s marvellous traffic management arrangements? Whatever was the cause, it certainly lengthened the day for a lot of masqueraders, drivers, spectators, stewards and, indeed, police officers. The police did at least impress foreign visitors with their stoicism, but on this sunny, good-humoured day the crowd never gave them much to worry about in this part of Westbourne Park Road.
Mas starvation
“Carnival is mas” goes the song, but if you looked over the barriers at the wrong time you might have wondered what all the fuss was about. Is serious costume-making in decline? Well, certainly many bands have turned to ready-made bikini-and-beads style outfits, which can be pretty enough in a group but hardly involve much artistic or creative input. They also tend to be aimed very much at young, fit female bodies, rather than older masqueraders or men – who surely deserve wearable costumes too.
The big growth area is clearly T-shirt bands, which may or may not have a small token costume section in the front. They are easy, low-cost, popular and demand minimal commitment from the wearer – just turn up on the day and put it on – but they don’t make much of a contribution to the visual appeal of Carnival. Still, if they get people participating rather than just spectating, they serve a purpose.
But if this year’s T-shirt wearer is thinking of playing mas in real costume next year, will they find what they are looking for? Unless they choose their band carefully, they may be disappointed. There’s no shortage of design talent, energy or enthusiasm in London’s carnival community, which probably has the most creative potential of any group of people in the country. But time is tight and money is short, so perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised at the lack of big costumes in some bands this year. Yet it doesn’t explain why so few had the “wow” factor – the kind of costume that makes the masquerader truly feel like a king or queen on the road, and that causes the crowd to gasp, whistle and cheer with delight when they come past.
Size isn’t everything at Carnival, for as some of the work in the Thames Festival reminds us, a costume doesn’t have to fill the whole road or require an entire Arts Council grant to be effective, witty or exciting. Imagination is free ... and imagination is exactly what’s needed to rekindle the thrill, even the danger, of mas. A look back at Carnival’s history shows it’s far more than just a “street party”, for it encompasses celebration, resistance, protest, humour and “the world turned upside down”. Perhaps for 2008 we should look back to our roots if we are to take mas forward and ensure Carnival’s future.
Big bands up front
And so to the second day of mas itself. Paraíso School of Samba won the race to the judges’ table, and their well-made, flamboyant costumes, polished performance and sheer showmanship made them the ideal openers for Carnival Monday. Then there was a long pause before the first of the Caribbean-style bands came through. Phoenix brought us “Roman Bacchanal”, with tunics, cloaks and helmets making a change from their usual wild Indians.
Masquerade 2000 is another band of habitual early risers, and here it was with “Africa Unfolds” in third position on the road. Although there were some familiar M2K touches, this was one of the most attractive of their recent presentations and one which worked well as a complete band, displaying a more even quality across their larger pieces. They also made good use of section signs, which can be helpful to judges and onlookers alike in interpreting the mas.
Other highlights of the early part of the afternoon were Batala, a crowd-pleasingly tight and thunderous bateria; Metronomes Steel Orchestra, who got the red, white and black flags stirring on Trinidad Hill; and the sexy Burrokeets women playing “Behind the Mask”. Paddington Arts Elimu also pleased with “Nanse Ntontan”, though after their exciting showing on Sunday, they seemed a little low-key here.
Flags, Flowers and Skeletons
There was a change of pace after this as first Saga Boys and then the Cocoyea-Soca Massive-Langniappe conglomerate filled the street with hard-wukking revellers, who certainly kept the crowd – and themselves – entertained. The costume elements – tunics, flower-chains and the like – were simple but effective and made a change from the more usual shiny, glittery materials. And the mass of Caribbean flags just seems to get bigger every year.
Beeraahaar lacked their usual large costumes this year, but the colourful Kurdish group – including a man playing “Faluma” on a flute! – and the graceful, slender, parasol-wielding ladies from China Arts certainly met with popular approval. Behind them came the unmistakable street-transforming colours of Mahogany (“Freedom Song”). The band was as beautiful and well-presented as ever, and for sheer craftsmanship they are hard to beat. If there was no single element that stood out and knocked us back, it’s probably because Clary and her team have set themselves such high standards over the years.
The biggest surprise in this section of the event was Flamboyan, who really excelled themselves with a marvellous Indian-themed presentation, “Messengers from the Spirit World”, which ended with a rather wonderful golden Buddha. Frankly, we could have done with more bands putting this level of commitment and imagination into the conception of their mas – at whatever scale.
By the time the next stand-out band came along it was already getting dark. This, too, was a surprise, for it has been some years since the London School of Samba hit the top notes, frequently being outshone by Paraíso and the (sadly absent) Quilombo do Samba. But for 2007 the designers had clearly been hard at work producing some far more interesting costumes (and not just in LSS green!), including a gaggle of brilliantly luminous skeletons.
The powers of darkness
Once the light fades the real party crews come out, and soon the road was engulfed by a torrent of high-fashion JA girls from Fusion Hi-Power, followed by Calabash and then Poison’s black-and-white-striped jailbirds. The Mash (“We Outta GT”) cooled the temperature as they trolled past Trini Hill in silence, but before long the women in the crowd were squealing for the London Fire Brigade boys, who were preceded by a dignified African group that included an acrobatic plate-spinner.
The crowd had thinned out considerably by 9.20pm, but it was well worth hanging in there to see South Connections come past in all their glory. A really beautiful, well-conceived band, they must have looked even more impressive in the sunlight. You just hoped their theme, “De Journey Now Start”, wasn’t true at this point in the day!
The Engine Room/Caribbean Bananas, Nostalgia Steel Orchestra, Visions and Mangrove were among the bands that led us up to the day’s tail-enders, Isis and Inspiration Arts, who turned the corner into Westbourne Park Road shortly after 10pm.
Moonlight and music
Once the mas has gone there’s not much left to do but head for home – or an all-night party if you still have the energy. The police encourage us to get out of the area quickly, warning of the dangers of Notting Hill Carnival after dark, yet these final hours have a certain magic to them – particularly if you’ve had a good time (and thanks to the hard-wining ladies in the Trini Hill bus shelter for that!). Great Western Road was already eerily quiet by 10.30pm, with just a few weary revellers heading off to their tubes and buses, their backs to the full moon that glinted off sequins and fallen-star splinters of glass on the dark tarmac. A guy whistled to girls partying in an upstairs flat, while from farther off came the sound of horns blowing, seeming mournful rather than celebratory in the cooling night air.
Underneath a lamp-post a yellow-jacketed puddle of policemen yawned and joked as they waited for their release, one of them repeatedly tossing his helmet in the air and catching it, confident his senior officers had all gone off duty. On Trinidad Hill a raggle-taggle clutch of survivors stood uncertainly; quiet, with nothing more to see or say, yet reluctant to leave their post for another whole year.
And down the silent street, a girl danced alone, touched by a glow of moonlight, the music in her head too strong for her feet to resist. The spirit of Carnival lives on... |
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