Toronto Caribbean Carnival 2023

Location: Toronto Caribbean Carnival, Grande Parade, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, Year: 2023, Photographer: Ajani Charles

On Saturday, August 5, 2023, I attended and documented the largest street festival in North America, the Toronto Caribbean Carnival’s Grande Parade, which many Torontonians and others worldwide often call the Caribana parade.

I have attended the parade, produced by the Toronto Caribbean Carnival, formerly known as Caribana, many times since I was a kid. Still, I was more excited to participate in it this year than any other year before.

In the past, for reasons unknown to me, despite being of Haitian descent, despite my love of Caribbean culture, and despite having many former classmates, friends, and colleagues whose families come from Trinidad and Tobago, Brazil, and other nations that host the most famous Carnivals in the world, the Toronto Caribbean Carnival did not excite me or resonate with me to the degree that it did this year. I was not a fan of soca music until this year.

Three variables contributed to my newfound love of Carnival and soca.

Firstly, the COVID-19 pandemic stopped Carnivals in Toronto and elsewhere, and my opportunities to socialize in person were severely limited for over two years, much like the rest of Toronto, Canada, North America, and the world.

So, even though I am far more introverted than extroverted, I strongly desired to be around large groups of people, albeit temporarily, particularly during the Toronto Caribbean Carnival’s Grande Parade.

Secondly, many of my friends and colleagues expanded my mind and exposed me to the joys of Carnival this year in ways that would not have been possible otherwise.

And thirdly, I have always been a fan of the visuals, artistry, and cultures that define Carnivals worldwide.

My longtime friend and colleague, Che Kothari, is, among other things, co-founder of Manifesto Community Projects and the annual Manifesto Festival, a photographer, a director, and a producer who owns a management firm known as Gifted Management.

Through Gifted Management, he manages Machel Montano, a Trinidadian soca singer, songwriter, and music producer renowned for his dynamic performances and influential contributions to the soca music genre and Carnivals worldwide.

Montano is often dubbed the "King of Soca” with a decades-long career due to his unmatched stage presence, innovative musical style, and numerous hit songs that have become anthems of Caribbean Carnival culture.

As far as I can tell, Machel Montano is the Jay-Z of the soca genre.

His music fuses traditional calypso and soca rhythms with contemporary elements, making him a global Trinidadian music and culture ambassador.

Before this year, I rarely listened to his music and had never attended any of his concerts.

That changed when Che invited me to a concert in Toronto on Monday, July 3, 2023.

More specifically, SOS, known for their Summer of Soca Festival, hosted a Guyana Super Concert in Toronto at Coca-Cola Coliseum that included performances from legendary artists Machel Montano and Jamaica’s Sean Paul that breathed life, love and culture throughout the venue.

As the event's name suggested, a large percentage of the concertgoers were of Guyanese descent. My longtime friend and colleague Neil Donaldson, also known as Logik or Logikal Ethix, who has probably known Che for longer than I, accompanied me much like he recently accompanied me to CBC Radio’s studios (for my recent interview via Metro Morning).

He gave me a fantastic gift of a Haitian flag for the occasion when I met him at the venue’s entrance, and he also brought his two lovely daughters with him, given that he is committed to expanding their minds through different forms of art and culture.

The coliseum was packed, and screaming fans waved their flags rapidly while singing and dancing to hits from both artists.

Sean Paul opened the concert with many of his greatest hits, brought out surprise guest Charly Black, and performed their hit song Gyal Generals.

When Machel Montano came out with his dancers, between the loud cheers, the incredible choreography associated with his set and the high levels of energy evidenced by Machel and his crew, I immediately understood the allure and reverence millions worldwide associate with soca music and Carnival.

I got it for the first time in my life; I understood the beauty of soca and Machel Montano’s music at a visceral level.

As I watched Machel perform high-energy song after song with seemingly no diminishment in his endurance and enthusiasm, it became clear that cardiovascular endurance is an integral part of being a soca artist.

Physically, I doubt that many soca artists are out of shape, especially considering how long soca fetes can last. Some are 12 hours in duration or longer.

In Trinidadian culture, a fete is a large, extravagant party or event held during Carnival festivities. Although the super concert was not quite a fete, it was a preview of what I plan on experiencing soon.

As I danced and cheered alongside my good friend and colleague Norman Alconcel, also known as the comedian Big Norm, I became far more inspired to visit, experience, and comprehensively document Carnivals and soca culture around the world, including but not limited to Trinidad and Tobago’s Carnival and this year's Toronto Caribbean Carnival.

The concert ended with a stellar performance from Machel and Sean Paul.

About a week later, I attended the Toronto Caribbean Carnival launch event at Nathan Phillips Square in the downtown core of Toronto on Tuesday, July 11, 2023, which compounded my appreciation for the Caribbean, Carnival, soca, and calypso, among other things.

I ran into my friend and former classmate via the Claude Watson Arts program at Earl Haig Secondary School, Renee Ramsarran, a marketing manager in full costume. She educated me on playing mas during the Toronto Caribbean Carnival, Trinidadian culture, joining a band in Toronto, and more.

Within the context of a Carnival, a band refers to a group or troupe of participants who collectively come together to participate in the Carnival parade and festivities.

Such bands, whether in Trinidad and Tobago, Guyana, Los Angeles, Toronto, or London, often have a specific theme or concept that dictates the design of their costumes, choreography, and overall presentation during the Carnival procession.

“Playing mas," which is short for "playing masquerade," is a term used to describe participating in a Carnival parade as a masquerader or reveller.

Masqueraders are individuals who dress up in elaborate and often highly creative costumes that align with the chosen theme of their chosen band.

As far as I could tell, the vibes were immaculate at Nathan Phillips Square, although the launch event was less populated than in years prior. Maybe that was a by-product of the pandemic and the event’s timing.

By the time the Toronto Caribbean Carnival, or TCC, officially launched, I was eager to join and document the parade, which took place at the end of the Carnival’s week.

On Thursday, August 3, 2023, leading up to the parade and after attending Justice Fund’s amazing Summit during the day, I had a blast at Mona “Lady Luck” Halem’s private Carnival launch party at Noir Inside Rebel that evening.

Rebel Inside Noir is part of one of the most popular entertainment spaces in Canada, Rebel, via INK Entertainment.

Mona’s party was packed, included great sets by DJ Wikked and fully-costumed dancers, and consisted of a who’s who of Toronto’s arts, entertainment, nightlife, entertainment, and sports worlds since the early 2000s. It indicated Carnival and the Carribbean’s importance to Toronto’s culture.

On the day of the parade, Saturday, August 5, 2023, I arrived at the ticket booths south of Dufferin Street and King Street West with the Haitian flag that my friend Neil gave me during the Guyana Super Concert hanging from the back pocket of my jean shorts, and I patiently waited before purchasing a ticket for $40 plus tax.

The weather was sunny and tolerably hot, the conditions for a parade were perfect by my estimation, and the moment I purchased my ticket, most people in line to get into the parade rushed to the entrance and entered without paying.

For a moment, I felt like a sucker. Still, I remembered that the Toronto Caribbean Carnival was having difficulties raising funds for this year’s and next year’s festivals. Thankfully, $40 is not a lot of money to me, and I understand that many Torontonians and others worldwide are not so fortunate.

Once I entered the parade, I felt paradoxically at ease and excited about the sounds and sights around me, and almost immediately started shooting.

I was at ease because my people surrounded me.

The vast crowds reminded me of how fortunate we all were to have survived the pandemic, physically and psychologically. Toronto was undoubtedly back to some semblance of normalcy, albeit a new type far removed from 2019 in more ways than can be summarized here.

Most bands and regular Carnival patrons were dancing and smiling, probably more so than they would under other circumstances.

For no less than hundreds of thousands of people and numerous businesses, Toronto Caribbean Carnival is an annual highlight and the best week of the year.

My optimism and curiosity led me to engage with countless people I encountered throughout the parade, shooting candid, intimate portraits and other images amid the vibrancy of Caribbean culture.

I loved shooting the parade, as I actively participated in it and entered a flow state. I was in the zone, fully present; I was alive.

I ran into my friend Big Norm and my friend Macintosh Hundai, a talented producer of the Soundsmith Production collective, and I ended up spending at least a couple of hours with them, going from band to band and consequently from party to party on the road.

Entrepreneur, Director, Actor, Designer: Norman Alconcel, Also Known As Big Norm, Location: Toronto Caribbean Carnival, Grande Parade, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, Year: 2023, Photographer: Ajani Charles

Each band truck had its own DJ, MC, and vibe, and while some played soca exclusively, others would play soca and calypso. Others would play soca, calypso, dancehall, reggae, and Afrobeats, among other fantastic African and Caribbean musical genres.

After waiting in line for at least 45 minutes, I ate incredible Jamaican food.

Unfortunately, I could not buy any ice cream, as the ice cream truck I encountered was completely sold out.

Nonetheless, this year’s parade was one of the most fun experiences of 2023 in my case.

Carnivals have historical origins that pre-date the transatlantic slave trade, dating back to ancient pagan festivals celebrating the transition from winter to spring, often involving costumes, masks, and raucous festivities.

In the Caribbean, Carnivals were influenced by African cultural traditions brought by enslaved peoples and resistance against European colonial powers.

Indigenous cultures play a role in Carnivals worldwide through thematic representation, cultural performances, and artistic contributions that showcase their heritage, stories, and artistic traditions, adding diversity and depth to the festivities.

During and soon after the transatlantic slave trade, such celebrations allowed enslaved individuals to momentarily break free from oppressive conditions, expressing their identity, culture, and resistance through music, dance, and elaborate costumes.

Over time, Carnivals became intertwined with the concept of emancipation, symbolizing the struggle for freedom and the assertion of cultural pride, as communities used these events to commemorate their ancestors' resilience and assert their self-determination. In 2021, Emancipation Day was nationally recognized and celebrated as a federal holiday in Canada for the first time.

Many patrons of TCC knocked down the fences as I enjoyed the parade. They joined the parade by force as an act of defiance against the $40 overhead cost, the rising cost of living in Toronto and other parts of North America, and in the spirit of emancipation, thereby honouring the enslaved and murdered African and Indigenous people throughout the Caribbean between the 16th and 20th centuries, and the challenges faced by their descendants today.

I also learned through TikTok about a week after the parade that most Carnivals do not have fencing that separates regular Carnival patrons from those that play mas. And as far as an entrance fee is concerned, I recall Caribana being free when I was a kid.

As such, many people who attend the Grande Parade in Toronto feel entitled to free entry.

If I am not mistaken, and according to what I have learned through TikTok, instead of fencing in places like Trinidad and Brazil, each band has its security to keep regular patrons away from band members who, in some cases, pay $1,000 (Canadian) or more for their costumes and that there are very few issues between the two groups that ultimately contribute to a cohesive, cultural tapestry.

Whereas in Toronto, it can be pretty annoying to many people who play mas when non-costumed Carnival attendees cross the Carnival stage during the parade’s opening ceremonies and other parts of the parade, as such moments are dedicated to bands and people that officially play mas.

I believe that more funding for TCC via the federal government, Ontario government, the City of Toronto, publicly traded companies, and private companies would create an environment such that it would be free for the average Torontonian or tourist attending the parade, and each band would be able to afford a security detail.

Also, given the financial and cultural return on investment, the more funds that go into TCC, the more funds there will be for the City of Toronto, the Ontario government, and Canada.

Moreover, more funding for TCC would lead to the careful and accurate preservation of TCC and Caribana’s histories and the history of Carnivals in general.

According to a Globe And Mail article by journalist Camille Hernández-Ramdwar entitled The history and legacy of Caribana must be preserved, “at present, there are no Caribana archives, no proper records, no serious scholarly books or anthologies of fiction on the subject, we have no Carnival Arts Centre, nor do we have a definitive documentary film or even a solid published economic study on the financial contributions the festival has brought to the province and city for over five decades.

There continues to be a general lack of knowledge among the Canadian public, and even generations of second, third, and fourth-generation Caribbean Canadians, of the roots of Caribbean Carnivals (including diasporic ones like TCC), why they exist, and what they originally meant for emancipated African Caribbean people and the other colonized groups (such as Indians and Chinese) who were brought to the Caribbean to replace the freed Africans.

Increasing corporate involvement in the festival since 2011 (when Caribana became Scotiabank Caribbean Carnival Toronto), a changing demographic of participants (with many more non-Caribbean masqueraders), and a persistent lack of financial sustainability have arguably contributed to the cultural erosion of the festival.”

For these reasons, most people who attend Carnival in Toronto each year are oblivious to its cultural origins and significance.

In the article, as mentioned earlier, Hernández-Ramdwar states: “Hopefully, the status of the TCC as a UNESCO Cultural Heritage Property will soon result in the essential and long overdue archiving and documentation of Caribana materials.

This is urgent as several of the festival’s originators have already passed on.

For an event that attracts more than 1.2 million spectators and participants each year and generates estimated revenues of more than $338 million annually, it is unacceptable that there has been no concerted and unified effort to ensure that the legacy of Caribana is preserved and passed on to future generations, particularly those of Caribbean descent.

To fail to do so ensures that specific Carnival arts and heritage will no longer be in the hands of Caribbean people – and this has already begun to happen.

Diasporic Caribbean Carnivals are not just darker versions of Coachella or a Victoria Secret’s Secret runway show. They are creolized festivals, arising out of particular historical circumstances (slavery, indentureship, colonialism) and combinations of the many cultural influences that persist in the Caribbean.”

Unlike Toronto, the histories of Carnivals worldwide are carefully preserved through different organizations, including the largest and most profitable Carnivals in the world: those in Trinidad, Brazil, and the United Kingdom.

Coincidentally, I am not far removed from the origins of Carnival in Toronto, which began in 1967 and involved many imports from Trinidad and other parts of the Caribbean.

When my family moved to Toronto in 1989 from Haiti (and by way of Montreal), the Farrell family welcomed us with open arms, and our families have been close since.

As a resigned educator, writer, publisher, and community coordinator, Lennox Farrell, who is one of my father’s best friends, was and is among those fighting for positive and required social change in Toronto since the 1980s, particularly yet not only concerning issues affecting the Black community and kids.

He is a great man. Unfortunately, his wonderful wife, Joan Farrell, passed away this summer. I recall him generously helping me move my belongings from London, Ontario, back to Toronto after my first year at the University of Western Ontario, now known as Western University.

Mr. Farrell was a member of the North York Black Education Committee (NYBEC) that, for over a 3-year time frame, met on more than one hundred events consulting with the North York Board of Education on issues in the education concerning Black youth.

He battled for more prominent police responsibility and decency in the media concerning the depiction of Black youth.

Mr. Farrell was entangled with numerous community associations, including his role as the chair of the Ontario Anti-racism Committee and the Caribbean Cultural Committee for Caribana in 2005.

In Toronto, he was once the chair of Caribana’s organizing committee, and he is one of the most influential people in Canadian history as far as fighting for the rights of Black Canadians is concerned.

While I am grateful for what I can learn about carnival in Toronto from Mr. Farrell and his family, most Torontonians of Caribbean descent and otherwise, and most fans of TCC, do not have access to such knowledge, and there is much that I want to learn that Mr. Farrell cannot provide. Thus, more funds are required to preserve the history of an essential part of Toronto’s complicated, diverse history.

I look forward to learning more about the history of Carnival in Toronto and elsewhere and playing mas in Toronto (and other parts of the world) for the first time next year.

However, the question remains: Which band should I join?

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