2 weeks Ago By Roy Mitchell
Imminent naming of the Queen’s Hall Auditorium after world-renowned Trinidad-born pianist Winifred Atwell is another encouraging indicator of signs of the times. It is an initiative to be highly commended and is graciously well intentioned. These overdue manifestations of officially recognising those who have made outstanding contributions to Trinidad and Tobago’s journey toward nationhood, ad hoc as they may be, subliminally add value to the calibre of nation we should all be collectively aspiring to become.
But we must proceed with utmost sensitivity: level-headedly, logically, meticulously. Inaugurated in 1959, Queen’s Hall was the result of 11 years of relentless struggle and personal sacrifice of Helen May Johnstone, a UK-born adopted Trinidadian, who not only fought assiduously and conscientiously for construction of an appropriate home for exponents of the performing arts, but religiously for the future of T&T’s biannual music festival, an institution of her own creation initiated in 1948. Today, thousands look forward, with eager anticipation, to participate in this exceptionally professionally executed festival.
Johnstone has also endowed us with the Trinidad Music Association, which keeps the flag flying upon this indelible fixture now extensively patronised nationwide. Her decision to delink steelband music from the festival shortly after the category was added in 1952, controversial as it was, has been magnanimously vindicated. Going off independently has paid incalculable dividends.
Inconspicuously, an adjunct to the Hall has been named after her. But surely, she deserves more than just tokenism, especially given that the main component of the complex is now being overwhelmingly edified. Given these circumstances, we ought, in conscience, to tread cautiously: such that the stature of these two illustrious trailblazers is not unwittingly compromised, nor the majesty nor magnificence of their invaluable contributions concomitantly obscured.
If only by right of inheritance, the first claim upon Queen’s Hall should be toward Johnstone. This is not to diminish the monumental virtues of Winifred Atwell but to place bestowed honour in rightful perspective, if only for posterity. Accordingly, I am persuaded that, rather than name the Queen’s Hall auditorium as planned, the following should be done: (1) rename the entire complex the Johnstone Concert Hall, and (2) rename NAPA the Winifred Atwell Academy for the Performing Arts; distinctions more intrinsically aligned to each one’s specific contribution to advancement of the performing arts in Trinidad and Tobago; Atwell, befitting her international stature and prestige, complementary to the setting wherein T&T’s most distinguished events are staged; and Johnstone, in unequivocal acknowledgement of the struggles endured and personal sacrifices made from which successive generations have been reaping unquantifiable benefits.
And as we proceed, let’s go the full distance: rename SAPA the Robert Montano Academy for the Performing Arts, in long overdue recognition of this indefatigable icon’s unparalleled contribution to the life and times of our fellow citizens “down South”. Furthermore, rename Skinner Park the Ian Atherly Sports and Cultural Complex for all the indisputable reasons. “There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.” (Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.) Herein, we are admonished that the key to success lies in swimming with the tide: recognising and seizing opportunities.
Republic Day reminds us that T&T is no longer beholden to whims and fancies of British monarchy. Any unessential clinging on, regardless of however remotely perceived, should be relics of the past. So, on my premise that the name Queen’s Hall be replaced, the opportunity should be taken to do likewise regarding names like Queen’s Royal College, Queen’s Park Savannah, Queen’s Park Oval and Queen’s Park Cricket Club.
No national representation, regardless of however immaculately architectured or ingeniously engineered, remains more meaningless and uninspiring than those that are faceless: tell of no humanitarian endeavour, cite no struggle, no sacrifice, no exemplar, engender no national spirit nor patriotic doggedness. Few are aware of Winifred Atwell’s first home-based recognition accorded way back in 1966. Listed among the distinguished recipients of Pegasus Awards, she was honoured by that group of young forward-looking citizens whose vision was for T&T to be a nation independent not only in the letter, but in spirit.
First to have honoured fellow citizens for outstanding contributions in the field of the arts, the Pegasus Award ceremonies were staged before packed audiences at the very Queen’s Hall ironically only now disposed to naming its auditorium after Ms Atwell. Celebrities who shared in that unique mid-1960s distinction and likewise went on to be internationally acclaimed were Sir Vidia Naipaul and Derek Walcott, upon each of whom the distinguished Nobel laureate for literature was bestowed; CLR James, internationally respected, influential world-class author; and Slinger Francisco (Mighty Sparrow), the undisputed Calypso King of the World. When all is said and done, these extraordinary luminaries immortalise the pillars upon which visionary-led societies find impregnable footing.
Just let’s do it right. Happy Republic Day. —Author Roy Mitchell is a former special adviser and co-ordinator, National Tripartite Advisory Council (NTAC).
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