Caribbean Carnival An Afrofuturistic Social Sculpture We Need More Of
Dancing Intersectional Oppression Away
The Afrofuturism film, Space is the Place, features a scene wherein experimental jazz musician Sun Ra, cosplaying (costume playing) as a Funkadelic Egyptian pharaoh appears to a group of Black youth. He appeals to them hoping to create what German theorist and artist, Joseph Beuys, referred to as a “social sculpture”, which Beuys describes as an interactive work of art or performance that tries to change society through communal contribution. Cosplaying and performing as a space-travelling Egyptian pharaoh, Sun Ra was trying to get the youth to help “the world tune into the same frequency of harmony” and end oppression of people of colour through creating a haven. From the same galactic orbit as Space is the Place, the Caribbean carnivals that take place in Canada are a cultural phenomenon that is an echo of Sun Ra’s mission. Caribbean Carnival is an Afrofuturistic social sculpture that instead of taking flight and leaving Earth’s societies, is about creating a haven by “mashing down di road,” disrupting, taking up space, creating change through good vibes, music as well as public performance in the form of dancing and cosplaying and Afrofuturism — all in the name of liberation and social change.
Coined in 1994 by cultural critic Mark Dery and redefined by Dr. Reynaldo Anderson, the founder of the Black Speculative Arts Movement (BSAM — an international organization seeking to push Afrofuturistic content and scholarship into community practice and education through partnerships, project and program), Afrofuturism is about reclaiming, remixing and exploring space and time for African people, ideas and methods for continuity into the future. Anderson suggests that Afrofuturism 2.0 looks beyond aesthetics and involves metaphysics, theoretical and applied sciences, social science, and programmatic spaces. Through this lens, Anderson sees superhero and comic book cosplaying as an extension of traditional African masquerading — which he says “is an exploration of metaphysical empowerment through performance.” Caribbean Carnival, a practice that dates to the 18th century, is a public performance that involves enslaved Africans, East Indian, and Indigenous First Nation remixing European holiday festivities of Christmas and Lent along with African masquerade rituals. Its foundation is about remembering the past in the present and celebrating the future. This is evident through the mix or “bacchanal” of African and indigenous-themed costumes and the use of traditional African “riddims” (rhythms) and “drum talk” (patterns) played on modern instruments from cast iron bells, to steel pans and electronic drums in lieu of the traditional balafon, dun-dun, kalangu and djembes in Africa.
Caribbean Carnival celebrates liberation through themes presented in costumes, floats, music and public concerts and performances, tapping into all the five dimensions of the Afrofuturism 2.0. For example, Tamara Alleyne-Dettmers explains in her 2002 essay, Aesthetic Representation in Carnival in Trinidad and London, that the feathers on the costumes represent the freedom of birds, specifically the mythological rainbow-coloured paradise bird, which encourages us to learn from the past to move forward. Each year in Caribbean Carnival a new theme is presented by different bands promoting further ways to represent liberation as a metaphor.
The project Indigo Ink, a collaboration between Dwayne Dixon and Candice Dixon of SugaCayne Designs, the Design Fabrication Zone of Ryerson University and BSAM Canada, aimed to celebrate African liberation using the technology under the theme of “inked”. The “indigo” in the project’s title refers to the West African plant that was used to get the blue-coloured dye, while the “ink” speaks to the idea of storytelling, agency, visibility and consent, themes that were particularly salient in 2017 and 2018 during the #BlacklivesMatter, #meToo and #timesup movements. As a team, we created three motifs: Octopus & Squids, Calligraphy, and CMYK. The first motif evoked the notions that the female octopus and squid are the stronger and more protective gender in their respective species. They use ink to confuse their prey or escape. The second motif, Calligraphy, refers to how women, trans and gender non-conforming folks along with people of colour are now telling their stories louder and bolder than ever before. The final idea, CMYK, spoke to production, printing and the mixing of ink to create a unified and vibrant picture like Carnival. Creating lasered-cut leather and wood fabrics, as well as 3d printed headdresses and accessories, allowed for faster production time, and cut production cost of a typical carnival costume by half.
As an Afrofuturistic social sculpture, Caribbean Carnival speaks to society’s potential, emphasizing respect for African traditions and people, safer places for women, trans and gender non-conforming folks and all who exist within and beyond the spectrums, and enjoy good vibes while cosplaying. The partying aspect or “the jump up” aspect of Caribbean Carnival also known as ‘pretty mas,’ is meant to be a body positive, genderfluid, and harassment-free/less environment for the enjoyment for all. Although incidents of harassment do happen, as heard in the song “Leave me alone” by Calypso Rose, there is usually a built-in-consent culture. Those who usually engage in such activities usually don’t know “di road code” (rules) like “respect the mas”, “don’t trouble di feathers”, “don’t tief a wine” and “don’t stick” to name a few phrases about respect and giving space. Road marshals, security, new safer space inclusion policies, and intervention training are all things recently that have been implemented to encouraged and ensure carnival remains about liberation and fun both of which cannot occur without respect.
As it relates to respect, through the indigo ink project, we discovered that the innovative costumes that we created discourage “stormers” (non-masqueraders who try to be a party of the procession) from being a “storm”, in other words, from interrupting the masquerader. We surmise that it was because they were so different from the other outfits seen before or on the road — during the street parade, making people want to r look rather than touch. The innovation of design and the combination of Afrofuturistic creativity commands respect. Hence, promoting this combination can only allow for the carnival to continue to be sweet — enjoyable — fun — exciting, and more importantly inspiring.
The future of Caribbean Carnival through technological advancement will not only be to make room for more music, street parades innovation and unique aesthetic and ideas; it can also be a future that leads to more learning opportunities about African and Caribbean histories, which can help to create a better understanding of different cultures. The value of equality and respect could be further encouraged through Canadian Caribbean carnival histories taught in school via workshops and, or class lessons or courses or even through a Canadian Caribbean Carnival related digital app or a dedicated museum. The future indeed needs more space and investment in the Caribbean carnival as it is one of Canada’s most profitable and fastest growing cultural festivals with Toronto being one of the largest in the world.
At the Toronto Caribbean Carnival, SugaCayne used the Indigo Ink project to call for more innovation and intervention that can let art help to inspire a better society. BSAM Canada collaborated with them to continue to show that Afrofuturism is a movement and a tool. A tool that can inspire and motivate as well as teach. Hence, what the future could hold is more innovation for people of colour to express and have freedom from all oppression. Furthermore, it aims to ensure that liberation exists and continues to through remembrance of the past in the present and celebrating what is to come. It is a way to manifest a better future not just aesthetically and technologically but also morally in the present tense. Any social sculpture like the Caribbean Carnival in Canada can only work if society invests into to making it work. Assessing the vibrancy, joy and social change that Caribbean Carnival has brought to Canada so far and knowing that the future can be much brighter, isn’t that something worth fluffing your Sankofa feathers and go dancing in the streets for?
