Despite my lineage and family associations, I do not pretend to know much about the technicalities of music. I know what I like and that I love music which allows my imagination to take flight as in the unexpected fusions and rhythmic discourses of Waithe. And despite my tendency for drama, I do not purport to know much about that discipline either. But I do adore the portrayals of strong, no-nonsense women by Pounder. It is with facets of visual art that I feel most competent. So, when the news was whispered that Persaud would be conferred with an honorary doctorate from UG my excitement, while needing to be contained, was undeniable.
In the past, I have written about the need for mentoring and for experienced artists to guide and encourage younger, less-experienced artists. This is precisely the foundation of my relationship with Persaud. As a third-year student of the E R Burrowes School of Art (BSA), painting class was less about colour palette and paint application and more about the ideas of Fanon and any other person or set of ideas she happened to be reading about at the time. It was necessary for me to be more informed so the work could be more intellectually potent. Whatever my thinking about the world, it could not suffer from further expansion in my deliberations about it. I listened attentively and she shared freely. Fortunately, this relationship of the well-read tutor in conversation with the student continued at the University of Guyana. As though the universe willed it, months before my departure from the BSA, Persaud left and a year after I had registered at UG, she was engaged there to lecture topics in the history of art. Instead of fluid conversations about Fanon, assignments to provoke thinking about ancient civilizations and contemporaneous art from the regional and global Caribbean were the basis of our interactions. Visual art was reinforced to be more than pretty images and forms. Art continued to grow in being objects infused with meaning, socio-political and socio-cultural relevance, and handmaidens to different agendas that required thought and consideration before blindly following suit with one’s own practice. I enjoyed those history classes and, surprisingly, writing the research essays. With Persaud at the helm of my boat of learning, I was making progress.
Today, in periodic conversations, the names of student-colleagues from both BSA and UG come up. What became of so and so? Have you heard from so and so? Is so and so still making art? From time to time, Persaud would openly lament about talented students whose energies upon graduation had to be redirected because of our local circumstances. These former students may not be in touch but occasionally her mind wanders to them.
In the years after graduating from UG, I wandered but never too far. Somewhere along the line, Persaud got it in her head that I should write. Little did she know, I harboured a teenager’s dream to write short stories. I wrote. I wrote about Stanley Greaves’s “There is a Meeting Here Tonight” exhibition. She read it. Her response was to call an editor of a magazine and request it be considered for publication. The editor responded and she consoled me. Don’t stop writing.
When bold attempts were made by me to advance my training or studies, letters of recommendation were written and I read the copies in disbelief about what Persaud had written. Each time I resolved to live up to the words within the recommendation. And each time, the letters paved the way for me to be shortlisted or selected for grand opportunities. The fact that I can say I have advanced academically and professionally in particular ways from the uncertain girl in BSA is in large part because Persaud metaphorically held my hand when I needed company to walk or took my hand when I needed to be gently led. When my artwork was badly treated she encouraged me to speak up. Gentle leading. Alas, I know some wish she had not fueled that particular fire. When she had concerns about the content or forms in my art she spoke up. Gentle leading further consideration of my work’s content. Persaud was for me, an accidental mentor who embraced the role fully. I know others have benefitted from Persaud’s support and encouragement but many have left these shores. For others, the demands of family life have taken precedence.
As I write, we are on the eve of the first UG graduation of the season, and as you read these words the conferrals of the honorary doctorates for 2023 have concluded. Citations have been read and ten worthy individuals have been robed. As I write, actress CCH Pounder and flautist Keith Waithe have concluded engagements with members of the Theatre Guild of Guyana and students of the Department of Language and Cultural Studies of UG. As I write, I hope the exchanges are like heavy rainfall on long dry and parched earth. I hope that the ruptures from the absence of water have disappeared and new life may soon burst forth. As I write, my thoughts run to appeals to collaborate to nurture the arts of Guyana in Guyana, (Outside of Guyana they are doing superbly well.) My thoughts also run to utterances of commitments to support, nurture, and grow the arts at UG and by extension our nation. As I write, I am encouraged by the stellar feat that was accomplished by officials of the Ministry of Education in hosting the school children’s art exhibition and heartened that the work of today will have direct beneficiaries tomorrow. I am encouraged that graduates of BSA and UG are organising, enabling, and charting new developmental trajectories for visual art in Guyana.
