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A Spektakula fiasco
Posted: Sunday, February 10, 2002
by Donna Yawching
"THAT," declared my friend, after it was all over, "was the worst show I’ve ever seen." I had to agree with her: the "Super Clash" between Spektakula and Kaiso House, held a week ago Saturday at the Jean Pierre Complex, could not have been much worse. To add insult to financial injury, it had also misrepresented itself in its pre-show advertising. The entire fiasco was a perfect example of the way consumers in T&T are constantly being held in contempt-and the way they shut up and take it.
A stadium is not the ideal place for a calypso tent: it lacks the intimacy that defines the tent experience-as opposed to, say, a rock concert. Even so, one would have been willing to make allowances. But there was no excuse for the sound system, or lack thereof, that throughout the night played havoc with the performers’ staunchest efforts.
In T&T, we put up with far too much abuse from those whom we pay to entertain us. This is why we repeatedly accept, with resignation, concerts and shows where the lights go out, or the sound goes off, or the performers don't show up, or the seats are oversold, or the stands collapse. We're accustomed to something going wrong; we grouse a bit and then forget it. It's usually just one night, after all; and deep down, we don't really believe that "our people" can pull it all together in such a short space of time.
But Spektakula could not even hide behind that useful fiction. They'd been performing in the same space for weeks: surely all the kinks should have been ironed out, and a functional sound system operating. But no: at 8.30 p.m., even as the show should have been kicking off, technicians were scurrying around the stage with mikes and wires, and MC Tommy Joseph was spuriously trying to persuade the audience that the scheduled show time was actually 9 p.m.-this despite the irrefutable evidence of the newspapers.
When the show finally got underway, the eccentricities of the mixing board bedevilled singer after singer-and they didn't even try to hide their irritation. I have never before seen Black Stalin actually look "vex" onstage. His trademark ear-to-ear-to-chin grin died abruptly, like a candle in a strong wind, as he pleaded for some volume for his chorus singers. As for Singing Sandra, she stomped angrily onto the stage: she'd been sitting in the stands earlier in the show, and knew just what to expect. Called back to do a reluctant encore, she stopped the music and bluntly told her fans that she couldn't hear a damned thing, and that she was only doing her job. That must be a first in the history of showbiz.
Quite apart from all this bacchanal-and if I were the Spektakula promoters, I wouldn't pay the sound engineers a cent for that night-it was clear that most of the performers were tired.
They'd been competing at Skinner Park, and judging from the strange sounds emitting from the Kaiso House trumpeter-somewhat like a squashed frog-the backup bands were exhausted too.
In fact, many of the advertised artistes never even turned up-and this is where the issue of misrepresentation crops up. Newspaper ads during the previous week listed all of Spektakula's regular performers, as well as a handful of "Special Guests" (Andre Tanker, Ronnie McIntosh, Red Plastic Bag, Kevin Little, Super P) for Friday and Saturday nights. Saturday's ad went further, trumpeting "Two tents for the price of one", and listing the Kaiso House headliners. It promised a "Showdown between Iwer and Rachel", and even insisted, in capital letters, that "All artistes will perform in addition to their daytime commitments at Skinner Park".
Lies: all lies. Here's a list of who did NOT perform. From the Kaiso House: Shadow, Sonia, Brother Resistance, Roger George, and probably others who I've forgotten. Rachel Price turned up fairly late to relieve GB in the emcee role, but lacked her usual spark. Iwer George didn't show up at all; I gather he was at Brass. As for the rest of the Spektakula stable, we never saw hide nor hair of: David Rudder, Rikki Jai, Rio, Edwin Yearwood, Natalie Yorke, Drupatee, nor-needless to say-even one of the Special Guests, who I'd specifically come to see.
When an "intermission" was abruptly called at midnight, everyone knew it was a desperate attempt to stall, in the hope that a few of the deserters would show up. That was the point at which I tried in vain to get some information from an official backstage (he mumbled a bit, shifted his eyes uncomfortably, and promptly disappeared into the inner sanctum, never to return).
In short, the Super Clash was a Super Flop: two quarter-tents for the price of one. Anywhere else, the audience would have demanded its money back; and refusal to comply would bring down a flurry of lawsuits. Here, instead, we grumble and steups, and move on to the next rip-off. We fail, consistently, to recognise our rights (and our power) as consumers; and our service providers take full advantage of this fact.
Don't hold your breath expecting protection from the government, either: it is noteworthy that Mr Manning, with his voluminous Cabinet, has not appointed a Minister of Consumer Affairs. Despite the fact that every last one of us is a consumer, this is apparently inconsequential.
The consumer laws that we do have are never enforced (more on that in a future column); few people even know that a Division of Consumer Affairs exists, or what it does to justify its keep.
In short, it's up to us, the general public, to decide how much abuse we are willing to take. We may never get back the price of our ticket; but we can nevertheless vote with our feet (though not the way Mr Panday would like us to). My friend, after last Saturday's fiasco, put it very succinctly: "I'm never going back to Spektakula." Amen to that.
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