A Very Short History of the Steelpan
The history of the steelpan starts with a ban. The British government of the West Indian island colony Trinidad & Tobago feared that the drumming at carnival might mobilize oppressive powers from among the African slaves and banned drumming in 1883. Immediately the drums were replaced by bamboo, beaten with wooden sticks - the tamboo-bamboo bands were born. Already by the beginning of the 20th century metal objects started cropping up in these bands - the bamboos were usually wasted after just a few hours playing at the carnival, and quick replacements were found in biscuit tins and the like.
During World War 2 Britain banned the carnival altogether, and the percussion bands had plenty time on their hands to develop new instruments. One of the most frequently told tale (among many others) is that the pan emerged from Winston "Spree" Simon's desperate effort to hammer his biscuit tin back into shape after it was returned to him by muscle man Wilson "Thick Lip" Bartholomew. Anyway: soon whole melodies could be played on the modified bottoms of used oil drums originating from the U.S. military base on the northern tip of Trinidad.
The members of the steelbands identified very strongly with their bands. The panmen were almost exclusively young working class men with an African background. The bands had their defined territories, and the rivalry between them frequently lead to violence. The panyards had a bad reputation; parents (especially of daughters) kept their children from them, and they were popular targets for police raids. From a middle and upper class perspective, the steelbands represented a significant threat to Trinidadian peace, and in order to keep the panmen under control even whippings were re-introduced for a short time. In the course of a general "clean up" of the carnival, and in order to put an end to the fierce conflicts, the government finally introduced steelband competitions, which are still being held as a crucial part of the Trinidadian carnival today (Panorama).
But there is, of course, more to the pan movement than this history of violence. The movement was also a consequence of the abominable living conditions in which the poor of the 30s and 40s lived. The pan (and the steelbands) offered them a way to face the hardships of life with something authentic, something that they themeselves had developed and with which they could identify. If a man played in the Casablanca steelband (steelbands were often named after famous Hollywood films), he was not just some unemployed guy, but a member of Casablanca.
In today's Trinidad the importance of steelbands as focal points of social identification for individuals and entire neighborhoods has diminished, maybe except for carnival time. To date the instrument has largely remained the instrument of young working class men with an African background, even though there is an increasing number of panmen and -women with an Indian background (people of Indian origin make up 40% of the Trinidadian population). Also, although the macho image of the panman is still going strong, it is increasingly being subverted by the fast-growing number of panwomen entering the pan scene, who usually bring a more extensive formal musical training to the bands than the men.
Tina Büchler