Long live the Kumina King and Queen!

Last night I attended a performance of the National Dance Theatre Company of Jamaica (NDTC). As I settled into my seat, I glanced at the programme and noted with glee that the performance would close with my favourite NDTC work, Kumina. I consider it a masterpiece and never tire of it. I have seen Kumina so many times I know I could easily perform it if the company ever needed a spare dancer!

As the pulsating roll of live drumming and singing started, my body naturally started to move. Then, the riveting moment – the entrance of the Kumina king. This role was created and has been danced from inception by Rex Nettleford, the Artistic Director of the NDTC. It is HIS role. He has so embodied it that his entrance in Kumina always elicits enthusiastic applause. As my palms came together, I noted – the king was not Rex! This could not be Kumina. All of a sudden, this dance that I have grown to love so much, was not the same. A multitude of critical thoughts raced through my mind – the drumming was slow and weak, the singers sounded offkey and tame, the king looked timid, the male corps were untidy, etc. I found myself wanting the performance to end.

And then, something changed. The moment when the king commanded a change of rhythm of the drummers broke my state. I sat up and realised that there is no way I could enjoy this performance, for I was not present to it. I was actually watching Kuminas of times past, not this one. As I became present, magic seemed to happen – the drumming became more vibrant, the king took regal control, and the queen was beautifully elegant. What changed? Did the drummers, singers and dancers suddenly become imbued with some special energy? No. What changed was me. I became present and was able to enjoy the performance as it was presented with no comparisons with the past. And this is how it is with our lives – when we are not present to the moment, then we cannot see the beauty of it.

As the royal couple glided around the stage in the kumina foot shuffle, backs swayed, chins held high and only the hips gently rocking forward and upward, I saw Kumina in a new light. This young couple brought their own energy and vibrancy to their roles. Their movements, fired by their youth and vigour, were true testimony to the legacy of the NDTC – that this iconic work could pass from one generation of dancers to another and get even better! I felt, as the performance concluded and I applauded mightily, long live the Kumina king and queen! Long live Kumina!