"The sun is descending; the moon
is ascending . . ."

– From Lord Kitchener's The Carnival
is Over.

THE LATE GREAT Grandmaster of Calypso had a pithy way of expressing himself frankly, as he did in the calypso quoted.

His comments remain relevant. Particularly in Barbados in 2007.

In recent weeks, we have been caught
up in discussing the business of this year's Crop-Over and what it portends.

A statement made on the radio by the exuberant Mac Fingall to the effect that
the calypso tents have lost much of their appeal to audiences was one which received much attention.

The truth is that with both the quantity and quality of social commentary in calypso on the decline, and with a plethora of songs designed to capture the attention of the sociologically lowest common denominator, more moderate patrons have felt left out, and thus have stayed away.

Calypsonians and tents are not solely to be blamed.

Mas' bands have also chosen the easier
route of mass appeal – to wit, a proliferation
of bikinis and beads at the expense of creative themes – thus changing the emphasis and missing the goal of the celebration.

The creative purpose in our bands can
well be said to have withered. There is no longer the artist's glorious agony in conceptualisation of expressions of themes;
as Peter Minshall once said, there is "no longer an unburdening of talent".

The national good of creativity and skill has been sacrificed on the altar of "good-enough".

All the splendour of Carnival, or Kadooment as we call it, has been dissipated by merely an unceasing display of flesh.

One is left to wonder what now is the essence of Barbadian Kadooment.

Is it still a metaphor of life? Does it represent the spirit of Barbados itself? Or is it just for the physical convulsions of wuk-up?

As we understand it, it should be the vibrant expression of unhampered energy in dance and song and costume.

Taken from the classical example of Greek mythology around reality, tragedy and comedy, a carnival is meant to illustrate – to paint –
to place theatre among the people and in the streets; to share a spirit of excellence, and
to influence participants to ever greater levels of creative ingenuity.

But that has given way to crass sensualism, not merely by implication, but by naked (no pun intended) manifestation.

The essential heartbeat of mas' and masquerade is now made uneven
by spasms of negative energy, often
in drunken stupor.

Someone, or some organisation, has to bring our festival back on track so that the beauty of our annual national cultural expression does not flounder in fleeting moments of temporal arousal and crude satisfaction. It must be reflective of a society which is prepared to take a look at itself and share, with song and dance and costume, self-expression through colour that sparkles, and design that dazzles with the weight of numbers that confound and, overall, thoughtful creativity that informs of our native genius.

What we hear and what we see are removed from this. Our mirror must not be allowed to become a mirage. A testament to nothing.