Theoretically fresh, ethnographically rich and a pioneering effort, Dancehall: From Slave Ship to Ghetto is the only publication to date that has documented the institutional, industrial and cultural significance of Jamaican dancehall in local and transnational contexts.
DanceHall combines cultural geography, performance studies and cultural studies to examine performance culture across the Black Atlantic. Taking Jamaican dancehall music as its prime example, DanceHall reveals a complex web of cultural practices, politics, rituals, philosophies, and survival strategies that link Caribbean, African and African diasporic performance.
Combining the rhythms of reggae, digital sounds and rapid-fire DJ lyrics, dancehall music was popularized in Jamaica during the later part of the last century by artists such as Shabba Ranks, Shaggy, Beenie Man and Buju Banton. Even as its popularity grows around the world, a detailed understanding of dancehall performance space, lifestyle and meanings is missing. Author Sonjah Stanley Niaah relates how dancehall emerged from the marginalized youth culture of Kingston's ghettos and how it remains inextricably linked to the ghetto, giving its performance culture and spaces a distinct identity. She reveals how dancehall's migratory networks, embodied practice, institutional frameworks, and ritual practices link it to other musical styles, such as American blues, South African kwaito, and Latin American reggaetòn. She shows that dancehall is part of a legacy that reaches from the dance shrubs of West Indian plantations and the early negro churches, to the taxi-dance halls of Chicago and the ballrooms of Manhattan. Indeed, DanceHall stretches across the whole of the Black Atlantic's geography and history to produce its detailed portrait of dancehall in its local, regional, and transnational performance spaces.
An interesting look at the spatiality of modern dancehall in Kingston. This is fairly refreshing, as much of what is written about dancehall is centred around analysis of lyrics (like in the work of Carolyn Cooper and Donna Hope). However, I found the book as a "read" a bit meandering and quite dry. Some fantastically useful information here despite this, especially in the first-hand accounts of Kingston dances in the early 2000s.
Dancehall is incredibly spirited and exposes the history of Jamaica, black power and black struggle in every step. I felt great pride reading Sonjah capture these epic moments of the revelers and was impressed with the vast amount of research on the movements I have grown to love and embrace as part of a need to exercise catharsis. I think that there should have been a more prominent section about gender diversity as there was about gender equality and differing views on sexual identity. Rather than just explaining what Dancehall is Sonjah involved herself in the scene which is what I appreciated and the result was getting a first hand account of how the streets became a living platform for a vivacious cultural legacy. I enjoyed the databases and lists which is rare for me as I usually skip these parts. I felt there was a nice contrast of characters from Jamaica and Sonjah's interpretation of events. There was no shortage of triumphant moments and it's evident from the sheer amount of material in this ever evolving cultural practice. Though I appreciated the agency Dancehall provided, as a practitioner I am all too aware of the limitations and barriers I was presented with from Western culture. The self fulfilling prophecies of highly sexual encounters and violence are more welcomed in Western media and although Sonjah touched on this I would have preferred her to go even further into this topic. For although she is explaining what Dancehall is she does nor explain how it transcends and the fact that the positive reflections on Dancehall are harder to come by then people think.