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Quote by Wayne Gerard Trotman

Work

Kaya Abaniah and the Father of the Forest

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Author

Wayne Gerard Trotman
Wayne Gerard Trotman

Wayne Gerard Trotman, born on May 16, 1964, is a renowned filmmaker known for his profound social significance and unique artistic style. His works have had a wide impact in the film industry. more

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“The Trinidad Carnival and the calypso are both theatres in and metaphors through which the drama of Trinidad’s social history is encoded and enacted, historically a celebratory mass/mas theatre of contested social space: the domain of the stick fighter, the Wild Indian, the Pierrot Grenade, the Midnight Robber, the chantwel and his descendant, the calypsonian, and the pan man of the emerging steelband movement into the 1960s.”

“I treasured these slightly mad little escapades. They were part of the carnival spirit of the city, which seemed on the verge of breaking into a fiesta. Even the five-and-ten-cent stores, the epitome of national conformity, took on a local flavor with their displays of turquoise and silver, Aztec pottery, and hand-tooled leather simply screaming for the open marketplace, while the fake pearls crouched back in awe. But it was the gay little Mexican girls who, smiling sweet-tempered behind the counters, set the mood. Never rude, never dull, never tired, they lent a graciousness to the city that seemed to be in secret league with the sunny atmosphere to conjure up its lighthearted spell.”

“I didn't even feel quite comfortable about having a modestly good time. This guilt was a holdover from the bleak cold days of the Depression when the long gray lines quickly scratched through the hardly realized moments of color ... the long winter dream played out against an always nightmarish backdrop of black and white. Ironic indeed that it took another nightmare, the red and gold blast of war, to make us rub our eyes and become accustomed once again to a brilliant spectacle. The unfamiliar color dulled our senses to the horror. We were enjoying ourselves for the first time in a decade. This was the carnival time of life, and we intended to celebrate, and celebrate we did, although a bit uneasily and self-consciously.”

“There must be some place in this burg with signs of life," he grumbled. This attitude of boredom toward our city by the soldiers and their wives irritated me to the point of scratching anger. "Someday you'll realize that you never had it so good," I predicted. But when I became older, I realized that most people are completely lacking in sensitivity to and harmony with the world in which they live. In a larger sense, that is. Unless they are surrounded by their own familiar possessions and a few habitual friends, all is meaningless. There is nothing under the sun to interest them.”