Trinidadian Percussion Traditions in Miami

Please see Chapter 5 in this volume for biographical information on Stephen Stuempfle.

Though New York City remains the center of Trinidadian life in the United States, the Trinidadian community in Miami/Ft. Lauderdale has been growing substantially since the late 1970s. A significant number of Trinidadians have left New York and other northern cities for South Florida's hospitable climate and employment opportunities, while others have migrated to the region directly from Trinidad. Though it is difficult to estimate the size of this new community, it may exceed 15,000. Certainly the community's most prominent public event is the annual Carnival, which is held on Columbus Day weekend and attracts many West Indians from out of town. It is during this festive season that Miami's steel bands are most active, though they are overshadowed by Trinidad-based "brass bands," ensembles that feature calypsonians backed by electric guitars, keyboards, horns and percussion. (Local bands of this type generally do not include a horn section.)

Also important in the musical life of South Florida's Trinidadian community are a variety of Hindu festivals, prayer services, weddings, and related celebrations (some 40 percent of the population of Trinidad is of East Indian descent). Many of these events feature percussion or percussion-based ensembles, though "orchestras" with keyboards, guitars, and percussion are also quite popular. Together Indo-Trinidadian percussion ensembles and steel bands constitute a realm of community-based music making that is perceived by Trinidadians as fundamental to ritual and festive occasions.

STEEL BANDS

Steel bands emerged in Trinidad around 1940 from African-derived tamboo bamboo bands, ensembles in which different-sized pieces of bamboo were struck together or stamped on the ground during Carnival street processions. A variety of metal containers and objects were initially employed by steel bands but, by the early 1950s, large oil barrels had become the standard container for making pans (steel band instruments).

At present, steel bands contain various pans with different note layouts and ranges. For example, Miami-based Michael Kernahan tunes (fabricates) a single lead tenor pan with thirty notes (ranging from B to e²) and a set of six three-note bass pans (ranging from B Flat² to E). In between are double seconds, double guitars, triple guitars, and tenor basses (consisting of four pans). A single tenor or set of other pans is played by one individual with rubber-tipped sticks. In addition to pans, steel bands include a "rhythm section" with instruments such as a trap set, congas, scrapers, cowbells, and irons (often automobile brake drums). While steel bands in Trinidad have up to one hundred members, bands in Miami generally include between fifteen and thirty individuals.

REPERTOIRES

Since the early 1950s steel bands in Trinidad have had very eclectic repertoires, ranging from local calypsos to North and Latin American popular tunes and even European classical pieces. This eclecticism has continued in Miami. Among the many selections in the repertoire of Michael Kernahan's 21st Century Steel Orchestra, for example, are "Iron Man" and "Birthday Party" (calypsos by Lord Kitchener and the Mighty Sparrow), "You Go to My Head," "Macarena," Johann Strauss's "Voices of Spring," and George Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus."

Steel bands learn their repertoires primarily by ear. A band's arranger teaches musical parts to each section of pan players, and these parts are then drilled for hours until memorized. Each year the most important piece learned by a band in Miami (as in Trinidad) is its "Panorama tune," a current calypso that is performed in the pre-Carnival Panorama competition. An arranger will typically construct a ten-minute interpretation of a calypso, consisting of variations on its verse and chorus a dramatic introduction and ending. Common musical elements

are counterpoint, the shifting of the primary melody to different sections of pans, key modulations, and dense polyrhythms. Arrangers generally have unique styles and often work with more than one band in Trinidad and overseas. During the 1997 Miami Panorama, for example, one of Trinidad's top arrangers, Boogsie Sharpe, arranged for the Miami Pan Symphony. Meanwhile, Othello Molineaux, a Miami-based pan soloist, arranged for his new band, Miami Steel, and in 1998 arranged for another band in the Trinidad Panorama.

SOCIAL ORGANIZATION

The majority of Trinidadian pan players in Miami are men. However, there are a substantial number of female players, which is in keeping with the growing presence of women in the pan movement in Trinidad since the 1970s. Miami's three community-based steel bands use warehouse units as panyards or headquarters/rehearsal sites. Panyards not only serve the needs of band members but are also community gathering spots. A Trinidadian entering one of these spaces will immediately find him or herself in a familiar world of instruments, equipment, etiquette, and stories of home. People often go by panyards to "lime" (hang out) and listen to rehearsals during the weeks building up to the Carnival. The Miami Pan Symphony holds fetes (parties) in its yard during this season as well as during other holidays.

Over the years the Carnival has been held in a variety of locations around Miami. The Panorama competition takes place in front of a panel of judges on the Saturday before Columbus Day. For the Sunday Carnival itself, the steel bands parade through the streets with their pans mounted on the type of mobile racks used in Trinidad. In keeping with the Trinidadian model, the parade is dominated by large mas (masquerade) bands, each of whose members wears costumes designed according to a particular theme. Music for these bands is provided by brass bands and deejays riding on flatbed trucks. Nonetheless, the steel bands attract many followers and are considered to be an essential component of Carnival revelry and a key expression of Trinidadian identity.

Brazilian Music in Newark

Kristan Schiller, a senior editor with Travel Agent Magazine, has written articles on travel, music, books, and film for a variety of publications and websites. The following essay originally appeared in the New York Times on September 5, 1999.

On Bruen Street late on a Sunday evening, a fierce pounding is audible in the distance. The mesmerizing beat grows louder and more thunderous with each step. Finally, at an unassuming white stone building at Lafayette Street, the unmistakable sounds of samba draw you inside and up a flight of stairs, where as many as fifteen men, women and teenagers rattle shakers and pound violently on drums of various sizes, arms flailing and sweat flying from their heads. At the front of the room stands a man in shorts and a flowered shirt who conducts the musicians with volcanic intensity, every so often blowing furiously on a whistle held between his lips.

Every Sunday night, on the top floor of Mestre Ciganos martial arts school in the city's Ironbound section, a loose fellowship assembles to celebrate the ritual of samba, that sensuous song and dance with a rapturous beat practiced by the poor of Brazil. For Brazilians, samba is a cultural release, a way to exorcise the sweat of their labor, culminating in a yearly carnivale. And for New Jersey's thousands of residents of Brazilian descent, it is a weekly opportunity to bond over a shared appreciation of samba, and thereby Brazilian culture, leading up to the Brazilian Independence Day Parade held annually in early September along Newark's Ferry Street.

Most members of the Newark-based Verde Amarelo Escola de Samba originally come from Brazil, except for two Ecuadorean-born players and three American-born players. Most now live in New Jersey, scattered across the state from Short Hills to Union to Jersey City. All take on different roles in this ensemble, depending on their knowledge and skill, and the cast varies in size each week, depending on who shows up.

Participants range from players of such familiar instruments as a caixa, or snare drum, and chocalho or ganza, or shaker, to those who have developed enough upper body strength to support and skillfully play a Goliath-sized drum known as the surdo (which takes its name from the Portuguese word for "deaf" because of its thundering velocity). The musical effect of these instruments resembles what might be described as a hardcore high school marching band, heavy on the drums, without the wind section and with a distinctively festive flair. Adding to the revelry are a few dancers who weave in and out of the lineup in a quick two-step, tilting backward on the forward steps and forward on the backward steps.

"Samba has many different flavors," said Eddie Rosenthal, forty-nine, the director of the Verde Amarelo, who has been playing with the troupe for five years. "Sometimes samba is just a guitar and a singer, and sometimes it is just tapped on a matchbox. This is traditional samba school samba."

While Verde Amerelo is what most Americans would think of as a band or a group, it is actually called a school, Mr. Rosenthal said. The term originated in the slums of Rio de Janeiro in the 1920s when Brazil's black population began practicing samba in the vast, open parking lots of schools.

"The heart of samba is that it is a primarily poor—and black—culture," he said. "The origins of samba are the same as the origins of the blues: working-class."

Most members of the Verde Amarelo work as laborers, their jobs ranging from office cleaner to bridge painter to cabdriver. After practice one recent night, one of the dancers could be overheard discussing, in Portuguese, the difficulties of having switched from working at a Portuguese restaurant to an American restaurant where she is unfamiliar with the entrees. Two other women discussed eye makeup, and a cluster of men in the bateria, or drum section, compared playing techniques. Verde Amarelo is open to the public, although members hope that those who join the school will exhibit an abiding interest in unorthodox styles of music or in Brazilian traditions.

"In many ways, this is as removed from mainstream American culture as you can get," said Sara Welch, a caixa player in the Verde Amarelo who speaks fluent Portuguese and has a master's degree in Latin American and Caribbean studies from New York University. Ms. Welch, who joined Verde Amarelo a year ago when she moved from Manhattan to Jersey City, said she worries about the popularization of samba. These days, music that borrows heavily on samba strains is at the center of indie-rock repute, and is being sampled and emulated by everyone from Beck to David Byrne, who has introduced Brazilian music to America via an independent record label called Luaka Bop.

"I would prefer that Brazilian music was not trendy," said Ms. Welch, removing her drum strap from her shoulder and indulging in a swig of Alardo, the Portuguese bottled mineral water. "I think that's pretty much how everyone here feels. Anyone can take samba and sample it, but this samba is pure. And very authentic."

The purest manifestation of samba at the Verde Amarelo is the gusto with which it is played, and the satisfaction the players feel at the end of rehearsals each week.

"Our samba school is for enjoyment," said Barrabas De Souza of Newark, who was born in Sao Paulo and is one of the most expressive members of the bateria section, as well as the vice president of the school. The living room of Mr. De Souza's home has been taken over by piles of colorful costumes and feathered headdresses, which his wife, Anna, is helping to sew for the much anticipated parade, he said.

"It is to show people where we came from," Mr. De Souza said. "To show that the Brazilian people are a happy people. It's hard to explain it in the right words. It is a rush of things. I forget my problems when I go out onto the avenue, and I really enjoy myself. You go the parade and you want to perform. It's something that comes from the bottom of your heart."

Bibliography

Alfagamabetízado. 1996. Arto Lindsay. EMI Odeon/Delable CDP 7243. CD.

Brasil 2mil.1: The Soul of Bass-o-nova. 1999. Six Degrees Records 1017-2. CD.

Guillermoprieto, Alma. (1990). Samba. New York: Knopf.

Kristan Schiller

Though Carnival is their time of glory, Miami's community-based steel bands also perform at civic festivals and various other events. In addition, there are a few religious steel bands in the Ft. Lauderdale area with Trinidadian leadership and general Caribbean membership. These bands, which play hymns, gospel songs, and classical pieces, are similar to church-based bands in Trinidad.

SMALL PAN ENSEMBLES

South Florida's tourist industry has provided pan players with additional performance opportunities in hotels and restaurants, on cruise ships, and at private parties. However, changes had to be made to the Trinidadian pan tradition to adapt it to these types of settings. Since full-size steel bands are costly and require considerable space to perform, small ensembles have been formed that often consist of one or two pan players, accompanied by an electric guitarist, bassist, and/or keyboardist. Electronic sequencers or minidiscs are often used to play prerecorded rhythm, bass, and keyboard tracks.

Meanwhile, several pan players have taken up singing, since audiences expect musical entertainment to include vocals. Older audiences in particular associate the steel pan with Caribbean songs such as "Yellow Bird" and "Matilda" that were popularized during the 1950s and 1960s. Though these types of songs are rarely played in Trinidad, pan musicians in South Florida have added them to their repertoires. They have also added Bob Marley and Jimmy Buffett songs to accommodate younger audiences.

A few Trinidadian pan players have established careers in jazz. Othello Molineaux settled in Miami in the early 1970s and collaborated extensively with the late bassist Jaco Pastorius in performances and on recordings. Molineaux went on to work with numerous other well-known jazz musicians. He currently maintains a quartet of tenor pan, keyboards, bass, and drums that makes appearances at local venues as well as jazz clubs and festivals throughout the world.

INDO-TRINIDADIAN PERCUSSION

Miami's Indo-Trinidadian percussion traditions have their roots in the North Indian regions of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. These traditions were brought to Trinidad between 1845 and 1917 by Indian indentured laborers, who in time adapted them to their new environment. In South Florida many of the ritual and festive events attended by Indo-Trinidadians are also patronized by Indo-Guyanese, a group with similar religious and musical traditions. Percussion at these events involves tassa drum ensembles or ensembles that include a dholak drum.

TASSA ENSEMBLES

Tassa drums, made from conical clay shells covered with goatskins, are suspended around the neck and played with two sticks. They serve either as a foule, which provides a regular rhythmic pattern, or a cutter,

which plays variations on this pattern. A strong bass line is sounded by the bass, a large, double-headed, goatskin drum made from a mango or cedar log. The bass player suspends the drum around his neck and strikes its lower-pitched end with a stick and the other end with his hand. The basic pulse for the ensemble is provided by jhal, a pair of brass cymbals that are approximately eight inches in diameter.

In Trinidad tassa ensembles are central to the celebration of the Hosay festival (which is derived from the Muslim observance of Muharram) and are employed for street processions and rituals associated with Hindu weddings. Hosay is not observed in South Florida, but tassa drummers such as Romeo and the Boys regularly perform at weddings and Hindu festivals. For these occasions, they play those "hands" (rhythms) that are most suitable for dancing, such as tikora, nagara, chowbola, and calypso.

DHOLAK-BASED ENSEMBLES

One of the most common musical ensembles at community events includes a doubleheaded dholak drum (typically made from a mango or cedar log covered with goatskins), a dhantal (a metal rod held vertically and played with a striker), and a harmonium (a small, hand-pumped organ). All of these instruments are played by musicians seated cross-legged on the floor. The two heads of the dholak are tuned to different pitches that are adjusted either by rope lacing or metal screws. The drummer plays the "tenor" end with his or her individual fingers and the "bass" end with a combination of finger stokes, finger slides, and palm slaps. The complex rhythms of the drum are complemented by the melodic lines and drones of the harmonium and the steady beat of the dhantal. This ensemble is frequently augmented by other percussion instruments, such as the manjeera (a pair of brass cymbals two to three inches in diameter) or a type of jhal (cymbals approximately four inches in diameter). Among the most active dholak players in South Florida are Vedath Mootoor, Murat Bissoon, and Bobby Harbajan.

Dholak-based ensembles perform at several types of occasions. For pujas (Hindu prayer services) they accompany the group singing of bhajans (hymns). On "cooking night," the Saturday night before a Hindu wedding, they are sometimes employed for different musical forms referred to as "classical." These forms, such as the thumri and dhrupat, evolved in the Caribbean and are quite different from the classical music of India Toward the end of a cooking night, the gathered family and friends may engage in dancing to "chutney," a spicy, fast-paced musical style that draws on elements of folk songs, classical music, and calypso. Classical songs and bhajans are also performed at cultural shows associated with the celebration of Divali, the festival of lights in honor of the goddess Lakshmi and of Lord Rama's return from exile. For Phagwa, a springtime celebration, ensembles accompany group singing of chowtals, lively religious songs with an accelerating tempo.

TRINIDADIAN PERCUSSION TRADITIONS IN MIAMI