Life blood

The court in Arima was teeming with people, the air electric with the frenzied drumming, stick-fight chants and excitement for the finals of the bois competition. As inevitably happens, someone got hit and it took a while for those attending to him to get the flow of blood under control.

I sat there with the rest of the crowd waiting for the competition to resume, hoping that the bois man would be fine. In the lull, I remembered the story of someone’s eye being knocked out his head in another competition some years ago, and how close a member of my own family came to suffering that same fate.

A group of us artists talked about this issue this week; the fact that artists across the spectrum are generally not protected, and have little to no recourse if they hurt themselves or fall ill while practising their craft.

The case of the stick fighter is especially urgent as there is no type of protective insurance that is available to them or their families. Similarly, I am not aware of any provisions for calypsonians who fall ill, panmen who suffer hearing challenges, dancers who damage their knees, or for mas makers who create using dangerous materials.

Why is it important to ensure that artists have access to structured healthcare? Perhaps the slogan of one Canadian organisation says it best — “keeping artists creating art”. Globally, it is recognised that the arts enrich communities.

Beyond entertainment, the arts often provide unique perspectives to socio-political issues, they offer solace because of their therapeutic qualities, and imbue confidence and a sense of well-being.

Although we are slowly moving towards the acceptance of the creative arts as a life pursuit, it has not reached to the point where the majority of artists can choose to work full time as a playwright, an actor, a Pierrot or a wire-bender.

So, as one online magazine pointed out, “as freelancers, many members of the creative community — writers, artists, and film-makers — often struggle to find the best health insurance for themselves and their families. Since artists typically do not work as employees, they are not eligible for insurance through a company.

And it’s not always an option to tag onto a partner’s or parent’s policy.” Yet, in many ways, we depend on artists to provide viable economic alternatives.

Our Carnival is the largest and most complex of our festivals, taking place over many months, showcasing several genres of musical styles, performing arts and masquerades.

Additionally, outside of this period, our festivals represent our intricate cultural, ethnic and religious fusion.

These creative concepts provide work to people to turn them into live works of art.

The art is then the reason why visitors and diaspora nationals come, filling hotel rooms, taking taxis, eating local food, buying memorabilia and all the other activities that help to fuel our economy.

Providing care for artists should therefore be viewed as an essential aspect of the structure that surrounds the arts. This is a responsibility not just for the Government, but for the associations that represent artists.

Unfortunately, as the very public and embarrassing problems with Pan Trinbago have shown, we may have come a long way towards accepting the arts as part of our social fabric, but there is an even greater distance to be covered to put the needs of the artist first. It is imperative that we stem the flow of artistic blood; it is time to recognise that the life of the artist is deserving of being protected.

D a r a Healy is a perform a n c e artist and founder of the NGO, the Indigenous Creative Arts Network – ICAN