August 12, 2004
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Cover photo: 20th Annual Reggae
on the River
Photos by Bob Doran
story & photos by BOB DORAN
THE QUESTION, "WHY
REGGAE?" takes on different meanings depending on who's
answering. For the uninitiated, reggae is a musical style, native
to Jamaica, more specifically, emanating from the ghettos of
the capital city, Kingston, and the surrounding hills.
W.W. Norton's music
glossary describes it as "a Jamaican popular music style
characterized by offbeat rhythms and chanted vocals over a strong
bass part; often associated with the Christian religious movement
Rastafarianism."
In Humboldt County
the word Reggae -- with a capital "R" -- is synonymous
with Reggae on the River, the annual fundraiser that marked its
21st anniversary this past weekend. Over 10,000 people spent
three scorching hot days on a bend along the Eel River, partying
with friends and family, communing with nature and listening
to music, some of it reggae, some from Jamaica, some from elsewhere.
The Journal talked with a few of them.
WORKERS
Deb Alan, 36 [above
left] , from Mill Valley, was working
as gatekeeper for the westside parking lot near the entrance
to French's Camp in Piercy, not far from the county border, where
the event is held. Alan first came to Reggae six years ago when
her husband's band, Vinyl, played there. "It's a great social
gathering," she says. "I like the atmosphere and the
idea that's there's a place to go and stretch your arms and stretch
your legs, to be in the trees, to be by the river, to dance and
play and be safe around other like-minded people. I'm not a reggae
expert, but I've learned a lot about it from coming here; there's
so much great music here."
Phil Foto, 61 [above
right] , a former "crazy,
gear-jamming, diesel-snorting" truck driver from Magalia,
Calif. He worked at Reggae last year, and also did security work
at several other world music festivals this summer and last.
"It's the only job I have at the moment," he admits.
"I like being in the outdoors, living in my tent camping
out, the camaraderie with the staff and crew. I love the location
here in the redwoods -- and I like reggae." His weekend
schedule was for five 12-hour shifts at minimum wage.
Maia Steffano, 15, from Alderpoint [above left, at left]
, and her friend Evi Ashenbrucker [above left, at right],
who turned 14 at this year's Reggae, are volunteers in the Mateel
Community Center booth answering questions and selling posters.
"I've gone every year of my life, except one year I missed
it," says Maia. Why do you keep coming back? "Because
it's fun," says Evi. "I like the atmosphere,"
says Maia, and the people. "You meet old friends, make new
ones, cement ties with friends."
Katie McMahan, 45 [above
right], from Shelter Cove, is part
of Friends of Whitethorn School, a parent/teacher/student volunteer
crew that will sell around $25,000 worth of "Rasta Pasta"
over the weekend. "I've been doing it since the festival
was conceived. We raise a lot of money to support all the extra
things we want for the kids at the school. It pays for an Aikido
program, our art program, new library books. There's a real camaraderie
working in the booth -- it's fun, we have a lot of laughs --
but it's a lot of hard work." The music? "Well, to
be honest, I'm not a real reggae fan, but a lot of people are."
Carol Bruno, 57 [above
left], from Redway, heads up People
Productions, the group that puts on Reggae on the River. She
offers a bit of history. "In 1979, a group of people got
a matching fund grant from the Humboldt Area Foundation to purchase
the old Fireman's Hall in Garberville," she begins, retelling
an oft-told tale. HAF put in $25,000, the Southern Humboldt community
raised the rest and the Mateel Community Center was born. "Then
in 1983, an arsonist burned down the community center and the
fire department next door. We had an insurance policy, but it
wasn't enough to rebuild [on the same land] under new requirements.
We didn't have enough to buy a new piece of land, so we started
fundraising. My friend Shelby and I were into reggae music at
the time, so we said `What if we did a reggae festival?'"
A committee formed and the first festival was held. "As
it turns out it was a good thing for us to choose reggae,"
says Carol. "It's a grassroots kind of music and the Mateel
was a grassroots thing. We never dreamed it would end up like
this."
Betty Edwards [above right],
"somewhere past 55," from Los Angeles, is a volunteer
who, like a mom, picks up after everyone backstage and in the
photo pit in front of the stage. "Reggae gives me energy,"
she says, "and I'm glad to get away from L.A. I'm sick of
L.A. I can breathe better up here. It's all good up here. Everybody's
happy. At least I know I'm happy."
Mohamed Doulaki, [above] 43, from Morocco, sells arts and crafts, most
of them imported from Africa. "I'm a reggae fan to begin
with, a Bob Marley fan when I was a kid, so when I came here
in 1986, straight from Morocco, I came to Reggae. It seemed like
something I had never experienced in my life. I was shocked basically,
by the way people party in America. It's really a big party.
Since then I became one of the Reggae followers."
Acacia O'Quinn, 30, from Arcata, (on right) and her little sister
Erin O'Quinn, 19, from Eureka, are both volunteers. "It's
a great event; I feel like I have to go, since it's free for
me. The real reason is this thing called FOMO; it's a disease,
the Fear Of Missing Out syndrome," says Acacia. "She
has to go to every festival," adds Erin, "and now she
has me coming along." Erin worked as an EMT for the medical
crew; Acacia was on site crew, setting up the grounds beforehand,
including helping to erect a fence around the children's play
area, Kidlandia. "I like the river and the music is great,"
Acacia continued. "I like the fact that there's no cops
here, and there's a real sense of freedom around that."
PARTY
PEOPLE
Dom Jerry [above left],
31, a former Humboldter, currently, "living in the S. F.,
beautiful San Fran-disco." Why Reggae on the River? "It's
my Chinese New Year; it's my Fourth of July; it's my happy birthday;
it's everything I could want life to be for three days. I love
everybody here; they're all my friends. I know I'll see everybody
here. I hug 'em and kiss 'em and listen to music with 'em. I'll
never stop coming. We'll do it again and again."
Ayanna Hart, 6, [above
right, at right] and McKenna
Lee-Liston [above
right, at left] , 9, both from
Santa Cruz, will spend much of the weekend in Kidlandia, (seen
behind them in their photo). "My mom works in the booth
for Jessica Lee Designs [a jewelry operation], so I came with
her and a lot of family friends," McKenna explains.
"This is my first time
here," Ayanna interjects. "It's fun because there's
lots of things to do. There's a river; I like doing that. My
dad, he took me here because he wanted me and daddy to have fun
together."
William Pierson [above left],
53, a businessman from Freshwater, has been to Reggae 17 times.
"I love watching a bend in the river become a city in a
two-week period and then go back to being a bend in the river.
It's probably the finest example of economic development by a
non-profit that this area has ever seen. In many ways the event
and its execution and the vibe it creates transcend the music
itself. The music is an extra benefit for what has become a fabulous
cultural event."
Gary "Junior" Haley
[above right, behind
group at top], 15, is part of a
large group of cousins, most of them from Brooklyn, New York,
here for the festival because an uncle is associated with the
reggae artist, Midnite, who played Sunday. "We're here to
see Reggae on the River. We've never been before. We're here
to see Luciano, Bounty Killer, a whole lot of reggae artists."
"It's a party; it's a whole
party!" adds the youngest cousin, 4-year-old Sierra Gaul.
[above right, center front] His cousins join in, explaining that they especially
like Saturday's dancehall reggae lineup with Mr. Vegas, Warrior
King and Capelton, and, of course, Midnite, the roots reggae
band playing Sunday.
Paul Gallegos [above left],
42, from Eureka, with his youngest son, Kai. The district attorney
and his family were escaping the heat in Kidlandia. Why are they
at Reggae? "Great music," says Paul. "I've been
a reggae fan since I was in high school," says Paul's wife
Joan, "back when Bob Marley was still alive. It's also a
great people-watching venue." Paul adds, "The music's
awesome. Our kids love it, too; they love the kids' area. It's
great all around."
Danny Glover[above right, at right], 57, an actor from San Francisco. Why are you
at Reggae? "I'm here to hang out with my little buddy here,
my grandson. His name is Adsola," he says shifting his focus
to his seven-month-old grandson who lives in New York. "'Grandpa
came to hang out with me' -- and his mother," he says with
a laugh.
Ross Huber [above left],
25, from Garberville, now attending Chico State was feeling grumpy
after being refused permission to camp in a restricted area,
one that his wristband actually allowed him to use. "As
far as why I still come, I guess it's the nostalgia of it, but
every year it gets a bit worse, I think. It's more corporate;
no drum circles past 10 o'clock and all this ridiculous stuff.
We still come because all our friends are here. Back in the day
this used to be our festival. There weren't so may people
here, and you'd come in and go where you wanted, do what you
wanted; all our friends were on security. This is our
river, our river bar, so of course you're going to resent
when some guy from San Francisco tells me I can't go where I
want to, just because he's wearing a security T-shirt."
Diev Hart [above right] ,
36, from Santa Cruz (who, it turns out, is Ayanna's daddy). Why
Reggae? "Because I love reggae music, plain and clear. This
is my second year. I'm ashamed that I didn't come earlier. It's
the one place you know you can come and you'll be surrounded
by other people who love reggae."
Jazzmine Williams [above] ,
14, a champion gymnast from Long Beach, is hanging out in Kidlandia,
where there are not many kids her age. Why is she at Reggae on
the River? "My parents made me come," she says with
blunt resignation. "My choice of a vacation would have been
Hawaii, or some place where I can get reception on my cell phone."
The music? "I like the music; it's good music -- but it's
really loud."
ARTISTS
Vidal Angel [above] ,
57, an artist from Northern Mendocino, has been attending Reggae
for 20 years. "For me reggae music is the music that rallies
the rebel in all of us. It breaks down the barriers between cultures
and all the borders that men have put upon themselves for centuries
and a millennium. If we don't come to an understanding of peace,
love and respect for each other and respect for nature, we won't
survive. Reggae music is an international movement; you can go
anywhere in the world and find somebody wearing a Bob Marley
T-shirt who knows the culture and the message." [Note: the
bronze casting of Bob Marley is one of Angel's creations.]
Eon Henry Garden [above left] , 24, from Negril, West Moreland, "Jah-maica,"
lives in Arcata, where he plays keyboards in a reggae band called
Massagana. He hopes his band might "mash it up" at
Reggae next year. This time he's just come to party with friends.
"Why reggae music? Because
I was born and grown in Jamaica, there's where my roots are from.
It's almost like church music to me. Reggae on the River is a
perfect place to meet people from all over. I come here and meet
people from home. It's a beautiful thing, make me feel good inside."
Bongo Ras Star [above right] ,
50, from Los Angeles, runs a "cottage industry" textile
art company known as Ras Star. A vendor who has worked Reggae
for 17 years, he paid $750 for a space to sell his silk-screened
T-shirts and tapestries, and figures he'll take in around $5,000
over the weekend. "We use art as a weapon to reach the consciousness
of society, to bring forth our case for equal rights and justice,
and world peace. It interfaces with reggae because [the themes]
come from Rasta. Rasta is a consciousness, a way of life dealing
with spirituality that is all encompassing and universal. It's
basically being a non-conformist to the nuclear jack-in-the-box."
Harrison Stafford [above],
26, from Sebastopol, leader
of Groundation, who played Saturday afternoon. "We're at
Reggae on the River because they asked us, but as far as reggae,
it was the first music I ever heard. It was the music that inspired
me when I was four years old to be dancing ridiculously. My father
was a jazz piano player and my older brother was into reggae
-- it was always Bob Marley, Israel Vibrations, all the roots.
What I love about it, the original roots reggae with the one-drop
[beat], there's a lot of freedom in it, freedom to move within
the music. We're trying to follow what the elders did in the
'70s, trying to go within ourselves, play from the heart, original
space."
Warrior King [above] ,
35, a Rasta dancehall performer from Jamaica, grabs a meal backstage.
Between bites he explains, "I'm here to do my Father's work,
do Haile Selassie-I work. I just spread the message of love to
all people, all races all genders, all creeds. Yeah, mon."
Why reggae? "It's Jah music, the King's music. The most
High use this music to bring forth his message to the world.
That's why I'm here, for Him."
Brian Sykes [above] ,
40, from Redway, but now living in San Diego playing lead guitar
with Thicker Than Thieves. "I've been to every Reggae and
last year I finally got to play [with his old band South County
Dogs]. It's really the best concert I've ever been to: all positive,
no negativity going on," he says, then his bandmates call
him, "Let's go!" and he leaves the dressing room for
the stage to play his music for thousands of people.
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A final note from the writer:
There are a lot more answers to the question those included here
are like the blind men's description of the elephant -- to understand
Reggae, you have to go. Before the weekend ended, I saw young
Sierra, the party girl from Brooklyn, up on stage busting moves
her cousins taught her to a Caribbean beat. I ran into Ayanna
dressed as a clown as part of a Kidlandia parade through the
crowd, her dad running alongside snapping photos. Just after
I spoke with Brian in his dressing room, I came around front
to see him shred a solo, playing his wild Cali take on reggae.
Each was having a blast, and I won't be surprised a bit if I
see all of them at Reggae again next year.
Dreadlocked singer Luciano
electrifies Saturday's crowd.
Actor/reggae souls singer
Leon Robinson introduces Michael Franti from the crowd.
Rastaman Bunny Wailer, one
of the founding members of the seminal reggae band,
The Wailers, closes Friday night's line-up, singing into the
wee hours.
SEE ALSO:
Aug. 5, 2004 PREVIEW: Reggae: The Music, the Story
2001 Reggae on the River Photo Album
IN
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