By Mel Cooke, Freelance WriterWESTERN BUEREAU:
THE ONLY spirit that women did not express at the Jamaican Vibes Restaurant on Sunday was subservience.
Self-confidence, spunk, savvy, sensuality and sophistication, as well as touches of sarcasm, were the order of the evening at the New Kingston establishment, under a clear sky and quarter moon. Women expressed themselves on 'WomanSpirit', subtitled 'Women Telling It Like They See It, Feel It, Live It.'
The all-female line-up was poetic in nature, with the exception of 'One Woman Talking', who came to the lectern bearing two burning incense sticks, an incensed heart and burning passion. "I come to share with you things which have been riding my soul for a long time," she said.
In explaining her name, she said she was convinced that if one woman speaks out and another helps her and it is echoed across every village and town, eventually the combined voices will become one woman talking.
She made an excellent start, making an invocation to the temples of Kahmet, now called pyramids, praising the freedom fighters and warrior women, from Nanny to Harriet Tubman to Winnie Mandela and the ubiquitous 'warner woman'.
One Woman Talking addressed female misconceptions of body image, race and class divisions and 'progress' ('sending them (children) off to the United States of Babylon and England and when they come back their eyes are blank').
Her most powerful statement, which seemed to strike a chord with the overwhelmingly female audience, was of female identity. "We are not pseudo-men. We are sacred women. And in healing them, we heal ourselves," she said.
"I am sorry I cannot write poetry. The blessing I have been given is my voice and I use it," she said.
Toni, who aptly closed the programme, has been blessed with poetry in abundance. She has also been blessed with a full figure, which provided the basis for her show-closing and show-stopping Fatty.
Fate - or memory - intervened to make Fatty the night's last and lasting memory, as it would have been Toni's penultimate poem. After reading a few excellent pieces, she pushed the lectern aside, took off her glasses, breathed deeply and said 'Okay, three poems to go'.
After reading one, she moved into the opening lines of Fatty, 'You could not love a woman like me'. However, she stumbled and moved on to I'll Die From Poems, the power of her own words moving her as she delivered with controlled, concentrated fervour. Returning to Fatty, when she got to the line 'I am not too large for you to fit into perfectly- you could not love a woman like me', she stretched out her right hand, her eyes closed and brown hair moving in half-time with her rocking head.
Sajoya brought the strongest touch of sensuality to the programme. With Ras Rod on percussion and Mark Stephenson on violin, and herself in high-heeled, strap-up and knee-high footwear, Sajoya used candles to set the mood and a sensual voice to set the tone. Mama Earth preceded Birth Pains, which is a story of betrayal, and Bredren, which ended with 'I wonder if he would have felt he same way if I had called him sistren'. The Good Wife was a true, heart-wrenching tale of a musician who infected his wife and a daughter he molested with AIDS. They are all dead now, but he is the one with all the accolades.
Sajoya was joined by Ras Rod for the closing number Man Go, I Come, their voices and facial expressions telling a teasing tale of togetherness.
They were not the only duo on stage before an audience that occupied nearly all the available chairs at Jamaican Vibes on Sunday night. Cherry Natural started out with her daughter, the former Little Natural, who now tops her mother by half a head, to do What A Woman Strong. Mother and daughter wore uncanny twin expressions, looking at each other and away to the audience at precisely the same moments.
Daughter off stage, mother continued with the next poem, which contained the lines 'I do not have to be weak and fragile to be desirable/I don't have to be your clone to prove to the world I am in love with you'. Be You and Pickney Poems, to the accompaniment of percussions from M'bala, preceded the autobiographical Good Life, which ended with the postscript: "When ah gone, please don't put no lies in me eulogy, an don't put no saint in front me name."
Saffron was not exactly part of a duo, but she installed her young son on a seat on the stage. It was to prove both a blessing and a bane performance wise, as at one point he provided a beautiful percussion sound to M'Bala's flute, bouncing up and down in the chair. However, there was also some level of distraction, as at one point he leaned perilously over the back of the chair.
Saffron was unfazed, as she did Private Race War, Man Child, and the exquisite Shift Down To The Caribbean, which ended with Delroy Wilson's 'tek it easy, tek it easy, there's no need to worry'.
Under, Ultra-Sweet and Rock To Sleep led to Bodyscape, the ode to familiar denims, Old Blues and Hope Maybe. "I speak French, so excuse my French when it comes," she said.
Italee, the night's penultimate performer, came for 'all kind a women', which she wrote just before coming on stage, made no excuses and took no prisoners. Her performance was a bit like being force fed chocolate cake at a rock concert - good enough in slices, too much as a whole and definitely spoilt by volume.
She showed that she is a powerful performer, with strong body language - and she had a lot to talk about. From the cackling, crazed Obsessive Lover to the vision of the past in her closing number I See Me and the angry woman who told her a tale molested by her father, Italee lived out her poetry on stage.
Jean Wilson opened the show on a very classy note with Redemption Ground, specifically for International Women's Day, continuing with Mable In De Riddim, Hit Me Wid Music for Bunny, Peter and Bob, and Anadda Gone for those murdered.
Shan-Marie's Cellular Prekeh was a decent dialect piece which could have done with stronger delivery, and Odette Baugh's Woman and Arise were well received.
Indigo inspired the lazy creative person with Amoeba Woman, tickled the lighter side with Scented Cigarette, questioned the notion of the fallen woman with Grace commended The Artist and closed with Spirit Mother, written for her departed mother.
In the end, the readers at WomanSpirit lived up to Indigo's words, as they spoke about themselves and how women see it, feel it and live it:
You must glow in the dark, before you glow in the light
Dorraine Samuels was the emcee on a night whose glaring shortcoming was the absence of men, as less than a handful who were not performing, reporting or taping the show attended.
WomanSpirit was put on by the Social Club of the Tourism Product Development Company and Jamaican Vibes Restaurant.
