Glenda Collens

Maria Carey did it, so why not former Trini opera diva, Glenda Collens? On April 25, Fiesta Plaza in MovieTowne hosted the last of its Women in Jazz mini series, yet another of Heathcliff West’s enterprising events produced in his capacity as the plaza’s entertainment co-ordinator. Now, besides your regular swanky retail therapy and flimflamming in the hot eateries, you can sit sipping a cocktail and be serenaded, instead of moping over your melted plastic.

 Opera is very much a product of Western High Culture for the elite; part of the classical music tradition requiring extensive training, a pair of powerful lungs and at least a passing acquaintance with Italian, French, German and to a lesser extent English. Jazz, on the other hand, is a product of the African Diaspora, the response of the transplanted to North American segregation and the harshness of life as an invisible or at best second class citizen. Like the Blues, Jazz’s roots can be traced back to Africa but there is a joy and modernity in jazz which distinguishes it from the dolorous tones of the Delta.

For all its apparent abstractness, Jazz engages with its new environment, defies the social and racist constraints of the host society in much the same way as Creole music resists and affirms African and New World identity. In her salad days, Glenda Collens sang opera. I don’t know if she graced La Scala in Milan or London’s Covent Garden but returning home in the 1990s she must have found aria opportunities limited. Apart from the Holders classical music and opera season in Barbados and Puerto Rico’s Pablo Casals festival, outside of Cuba there are few performance opportunities for classical musicians in the Caribbean.

 After marriage and a lengthy layoff, Mrs Collens returns to the stage to reinvent herself as a jazz singer. Fiesta Plaza was her debut and despite some initial stiffness and the nervousness which go with a return to public performance, she won over the sizeable audience with her powerful delivery, warm rapport and an eclectic choice of songs. She took the plunge with a Nat King Cole classic: Native Boy, setting the tone for a playlist strong on passion. The House of the Rising Sun saw her visibly and vocally relaxing and allowing her powerful contralto some of its range. By the third number, Carole King’s ‘It’s Too Late’, she had been joined by husband Che on bass, Gorge Mapp on percussion and David Mohammed on keyboards, evoking the atmosphere of a late night smoky cocktail joint a la Casablanca. 

‘Time After Time’ and Brenda Russell’s ‘Piano in the Dark’, showcased her ability to emote in a new idiom, as she explained: “I’m not a writer but I try to bring my personal experience to my interpretation.” When she launched into a sultry ‘You Can Reach Me’, one mature male admirer couldn’t resist a slow dance with her, much to the audience’s delight. She concluded on this soothing high note with Sade’s ‘Paradise’ and Jill Scott’s ‘Living My Life’—a fitting comment on a welcome change of direction. Look out for Mrs Collens at Satchmo’s, Martin’s Piano Bar or Tobago Jazz next year. Who knows maybe Sent Lisi will beckon her too.