Culture & Community | Immigration | Music | St. Luke's Steel Band | Arts & Culture | Arts & Anti-racism | St. Luke's Episcopal Church
Lisa Yarbor and members of St. Luke's Steel Band. Kimberly Wipfler Photos.
Gloria Rogers stepped to the beat from the back of the audience towards where her two friends, Mary Lopes and Mary Freeman, were dancing in their seats. She leaned down to say something, and a moment later, all three women were on their feet, heading in different directions through the audience. Within minutes, the audience would be on its feet.
On Friday night, a Whalley Avenue parking lot transformed into a Caribbean oasis with the colorful melodies of the St. Luke’s Steel Band and the sound of laughter from strangers coming together to dance. Close to 50 attended in the parking lot of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, nestled just off 111 Whalley Ave.
“The most important thing for me is the instrument,” said director Kenneth Joseph, who hails from the instrument’s home of Trinidad and Tobago. He said that while the steelpan was in its evolutionary phase, men sacrificed their lives in the effort to popularize the instrument. “It’s important for me to continue their legacy.”
Top: Attendees enjoy the music. Bottom: Mary Freeman, Gloria Rogers, and Godfrey Ferguson. Kimberly Wipfler Photos.
The free concert, which featured 16 performers of the sometimes-25-person band, began around 7 p.m. A mostly older crowd sat in clusters on lawn chairs for the duration of the concert, barring those particularly danceable moments that brought many to their feet.
As the setting sun turned the sky orange-pink, the players coasted through a setlist that spanned genres and decades. There was Barry White’s 1965 “Love’s Theme,” Toto’s 1982 “Africa,” John Legend’s 2004 “Ordinary People,” Marc Anthony’s 2013 “Vivir Mi Vida,” to name a few.
Among the audience favorites was “Jammin,” the 1977 hit by Bob Marley and the Wailers. The laid-back feeling of the reggae melody, more ethereal through the sound of the steel pans, evoked summertime leisure and the slow movement of hot days. The audience swayed their hips, waved their hands, and sang along to every “Ooh, yeah,” and “All right!”
Top: Audience members. Bottom: Director Kenneth Joseph. “The pan is what transcends everything for me,” he said. Kimberly Wipfler Photos.
Joseph said that the steel pan can play any type of music, even classical, and so performances are more centered around the instrument than the song selection.
His first home, the southernmost island country in the Caribbean, is where the steelpan originated in the 20th century. Today, the steelpan is the country’s national instrument.
“The pan is what transcends everything for me,” he said.
Among members of the audience was Godfrey Ferguson, a member of the church who sometimes plays in the band. He said that the steel pan is so integral to the church community at St. Luke’s because many of the members are originally from the Caribbean, like himself.
He pointed out people’s country of origin in the crowd: “They’re from Trinidad....Antigua... Nevis...”
While many of the attendees were indeed St. Luke’s members, others had come out simply to enjoy the summertime evening music and dancing. For the most part, people danced in their chairs or just in front of them. Until Mary Lopes had a different idea.
Top: Friday marked the first cool night in weeks, and the audience was grateful for it. Bottom: Mary Lopes and Mary Freeman. Kimberly Wipfler Photos.
“Mary!” Calypso music played in the background as she danced over to her friend. Her hair was brown and white, and her top a neon pink. “Mary!”
She took her friend’s hands and stood with her, now dancing too. They walked over to Chelsea Barrett, a teenager in a straw cowboy hat, and pulled her up to dance, albeit reluctantly at first.
“Valerie! Come on, Valerie!” Rogers said at the same time, tapping another friend. Friends Janine Hoffman and Isabel Reid had been dancing together at their seats then ran to join the women in the center, and at the same time so did cell-phone-video-taping Ferguson.
The six marched in a line, which picked up new dancers as it veered toward the left then looped right and back again.
They began to conga. As they snaked toward the stage, more and more sitting listeners rose to their feet to join the line.
They danced in circles, and when the song ended and everyone applauded, nobody returned to their seats. From then until the end, they stayed dancing. When musicians finally reached the finale, the audience begged for an encore.
Learn more about St. Luke's Steel Band here.