BU SIMONE J. SMITH
It has been about 40 years since the powers that be at the Royal Ballet suggested that having a Black swan in a corps de ballet of White dancers would be a distraction. It has been 16 years since Carlos Acosta became the first Black Romeo there, going on to redefine every prince in the classical canon. Yes, things have improved: in 2020 the Royal Ballet had three mixed-race principals, and many more dancers of colour pushing up through its ranks.
Let’s be real; ballet has a lily-White reputation, and there are many factors that contribute to ballet’s lack of diversity: economic inequality—ballet training is notoriously expensive; a lack of role models for aspiring dancers to emulate; a failure on the part of schools and companies to provide support for young dancers of colour, and there is another factor to be accepted: many believe a thread of racism still runs through the ballet world.
“Harmony in Diversity Creates a New Positive Energy.”
This is the mantra of our powerful, and prolific Classic Man Patrick Parson, the founder of Ballet Creole. Ballet Creole exists to create, preserve, and present dance works that testify to the rich heritage of African and Caribbean cultures as they interface with European traditions. Ballet Creole continues to preserve and perpetuate traditional and contemporary African culture, increasing awareness of the rich African culture that exists in Canada. The dance company has helped to promote multicultural understanding through education and quality entertainment, which is then shared to national and international audiences.
In a 2014 article, Patrick breaks down this specific art form: “When you really look at creole in the Caribbean, it’s the philosophy of languages coming together: French, English, Spanish, native Indian. My work is a creolization of forms: the different languages of dance that come together to unite.”
Critics have hailed his work time and time again, noting its “supreme athleticism” and “strong” and “sophisticated” choreography. I went to see his latest production “Soulful Messiah – 20th Anniversary on December 17th, and 18th, at York University, and I was blown away by the performance. It was actually the first ballet that I have ever gone to, and I shared this with Patrick when we chatted last week. During our time, he generously shared: his life, his work, and his passion for dance.
“I was born and raised in Trinidad. People knew my family, but in the village, everyone knew everyone. People loved and respected my grandmother. She was a special person. She lived to be 104 and was such a gentle lady. She was beautifully social and mindful. She would not kill an ant, or even a spider.
People used to tell me how polite and well-dressed I was. This was my parent’s doing. Life was: church, school, and being a kid: playing in the street until 8:00 pm, and watching Tarzan, Lost in Space.”
His introduction to the creative space was due to his two grandmothers. They were both singers. His father’s mother was in a parang group (French, African Music brought over by Venezuelans), and his dad was also in the group.
“They would go from house to house, and from village to village. They moved around a lot. I was always an onlooker. I was quiet in my younger years, but when my mother started to get into dancing (entertainment for tourists) she would dance at nightclubs, and I would come along. She did bottle dancing, calypso, as well as bamboo dance. To me, she is the unofficial limbo queen of Trinidad. She was amazing; she would limbo under fire, just incredible.”
He went to an all-boys school, and while there, he got involved in cultural competitions.
“I created an all-boys group to enter the competition. I was 12 years old when I was invited to Beryl McBernie’s home. She was the official pioneer of cultural dance in Trinidad and Tobago. I know that I was influenced by all of that.
When I was in high school, I put a group of musicians together. When looking back at it, my love for dance was a natural progression.
I began teaching dancing and drumming; even at that time, I didn’t see it as a career for me, but in my late teens, I started to do more of it. I started dancing for the Astor Johnson Repertory Dance Theatre, and that is when I realized that dance was significant in my life. We performed in: Mexico, Atlanta, Tennessee. This all started in 1984.
I saw dance outside of Trinidad; when we went out, we would see different shows. This opened my eyes to the world of dance. Other people wanted to be doctors and lawyers, but I wanted to dance.”
In 1978, 1979, he began to look at where he wanted to take his dance career. One of his friends told him about the School of Toronto Dance Theatre.
“I came to audition, and they gave me a scholarship. Everything seemed to fall into place. I took the opportunity to come and study dance in 1988. My grandmother told me that when I came to Canada, I would be very successful. My plan was not to stay: I was only supposed to come for three years, but life had other plans for me.
In my graduating year from the Toronto Dance Theatre, I created Ballet Creole, after a visit to Folklore Rama in Winnipeg. That was the beginning, beginning of Ballet Creole. White people dominated dance in Canada at the time, and when I came to Canada multiculturalism was a buzzword.
Thankfully there were organizations that supported my dream, Harbourfront being one of them. There were a lot of cultural festivals happening at that time. We were put in the Harbourfront Summer Program, and this helped to launch us. I remember coming out on stage and seeing a large crowd. These are the moments that pushed me forward and kept me focused.”
There is one sore spot that Patrick identified during our talk; there is not a lot of support for the arts, and you need community support and philanthropist support.
“When I started out Ballet Creole, I asked a newspaper to do a report, and the person said, ‘Groups like this die out quickly. Years later, we are still here. We were the first African-Caribbean dance company with a: full time staff, building, administrative staff, a board, and an artistic staff. The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre is a Black dance company in New York, and people refer to us as the Canadian version of Alvin Ailey.
What you saw with Soulful Messiah was the rebuilding of Ballet Creole. I have this passion that will not go away. My journey is not done yet. I am a professor at York teaching dance. I want all cultures to understand our culture; it is one great way of spreading peace around the world.”