Tomorrow is not promised, so hurry up and find something ‘health-giving’ that you can love enough to stay awake past the world’s bedtime.
People are too busy with their own issues to care if your shoes don’t match your handbag. So, skip the shoes and the baggage. Bring your troubles to the drums and dance like you’re Jean Léon Destiné and Prince combined.
Organized chaos is the new calm, so sing like you’re Adele Addison, Riva Precil, Pauline Jean, Tiga, and Paul Beaubrun all rolled into one.
If for ten thousand reasons you find that you must cry, do it with all the joy you can fake.
And if by some necessary coincidence you should find yourself in Brooklyn, NY, tonight, run to Roulette. Lose all preconceived notions about Haiti and Haitian Drum Music.
Ditch that inhibition. Overindulge in rhythm. Tonight’s celebration features the BONGA and TIGA. Father and Son musical geniuses.
Two years ago I found myself at the First Annual Call of the Drum Spirit by accident. I can still feel that night’s vibrations. If you can make it to Roulette tonight, consider yourself among the fortunate.
When Master Drummer Frisner Augustin passed away in 2012, he left a palpable void in the community. Patrick LaFrance, one of the founding members of the Gran Chimen cultural center in Brooklyn, remembers the legend as a humble man with an enormous sense of humor.
“He played from his soul,” Patrick said. “Frisner would share his knowledge with anyone who wanted to learn the drum. Sunday afternoons , you know, in Brooklyn, can be tough. With Monday morning’s realities coming, you need a distraction. Frisner would show up at the center, and it was like medicine. We waited all week just to hear him play and teach us a few things. Frisner brought the Lakou to Brooklyn. Sundays were good with Frisner around.”
Well, thanks to Lois Wilkens and a fierce ensemble of drummers, this Saturday night may be the best Sunday afternoon yet.
ENJOY! ROULETTE
509 Atlantic Avenue /
Several years ago when I moved to this hood, I thought I’d meet at least one Haitian. That didn’t happen for two years. Pawòl serye.
When rain falls like a song on the roof, and ocean breezes caress the curtains until sunrise, sleep is sweetest.
I awoke with the expectation that every seed I planted will germinate: corn, eggplant, tomato, onions. In two or three months, we will harvest enough fresh vegetables to feed several families. We will share with the neighbors, 