Our talented enter the mythic word of the Odyssey…

NOT only are Guyanese enthralled by the possibilities of the ‘Big Cities’ in contrast to nothing happening here, but these cities exist in countries that have their own rural provinces who also want to escape from the ‘Nuthin happening here’ chorus. Talent and creative skills can be like gold and treated like gold; discovered, polished, melted down and reconstituted and sold for the highest market price.

Outside of a self-awareness of self-value, the talented will be lured to the isles of the sirens on enchanting currents and be devoured, if the awareness does not bind them to the mask of self-awareness, as Ulysses did in Homer’s classic. I have dealt with artistes; managed two and advised others. I have always said that the smartest artistes in the CARICOM belt are the Jamaicans.

They are based mainly in Jamaica, and they tour, get paid and return to the Island and build their domains. They avoid the costs and jostling of residing overseas. This did not happen on their own, the Jamaican government played a tremendous part. This story cannot be told in this article. The 1982 illustrated book by Stephen Davis and Peter Simon ‘Reggae International’ is a must own and read for local musicians.

All practitioners of the ‘Arts’ in Guyana have to reinvent ourselves, beginning with a delusion of entitlement other than through the merits of creative works [this is a bit of advice that extends beyond the arts]. We have to know what we are competing against on the world market; look at ratios. Eddy Grant is a great example to emulate but also bear in mind what percentage Eddy represents, in comparison to impressive lost talents like Pamela Maynard, Troy C, Micky D, Family Teach, Tsar [Caesar] of GT Boom Band and a list of others, overseas and at home.

The lobby has to begin at home, and NOW! Local talents have suffered its most over the past 25/30 years. In 2012, a US artiste visited Guyana and after he and entourage had left, some days later a Guyanese businessman in New York called me asking “What’s going on in that country? “Apparently, an American guitarist was approached by people attached to the local part of the act, enquiring if he was interested in taking cocaine back with him.

My friend remarked, “Like Pandora’s box wide open in Guyana?” This is a mythic term we use to define a state of chaos; in fact, it’s a little more. According to that ancient record, Pandora was not a woman, but a ‘thing’ created by oppressive pagan gods; a deception of extraordinary beauty that was unwittingly accepted by enthralled mankind, and it (she) opened the vase with her gift of afflictions which it (she) outpoured on mankind that spread across the human world.

Thus, a beautiful deception and its gift of vile curses, much like the deceptive wealth and social advancement of cocaine. It is a significant lesson, to be balanced against each situation before acting impulsively.

It was in New York, 1997/1998- I can’t remember what station. I was catching a downtown train and when descending the steps I heard the voice of Sarah Vaughan. Lord, I knew that Sarah Vaughan had long passed but it was incredible. There they were, lots of childhood memories were unleashed. I took a $10 bill and put it in the contribution hat. My American buddy fretted with me all the way to Brooklyn Bridge. It was just too much to give to a subway group of musicians, but what the song did, the memories, the calm I felt was worth every cent.

Hone your talents, learn the business of the arts. I’ve long protested it not being taught at Burrowes. Read about the Toni Braxton bankruptcy case, open the door to some of the people artists will meet, understand contracts. I managed two artistes locally. They came to me and told me that a promoter wanted them for a gig.

I called the promoter and told him that he had to sign a contract on their performance covering costs, filming outside of media, with half the advance paid up front and the other half on stage before they performed. He refused, I told them not to go. I suspected that they would go anyway; they did and came to me the next day to ask my intervention because they were not/never paid. I told them that they were on their own.

I worked for a now-deceased promoter who I always went backstage to at the Cultural Centre as soon as the show was over after he cleared with Madame Rogers. I got paid. The artistes remained in the euphoria of the public response to their talents and were busy basking in the interim glory. They waited and most never got paid. The artist needs to know that to survive and prosper, like the gambler, they must know when to hold and when not to.