Errol
Dunn
and Panamanian re-Africanization
story
and
photos by Peter Szok
On
May 30, Panamanians
celebrate the widely popular Day of Black Ethnicity. The
official holiday
was established in 2000, and it constitutes an important step toward an
ethnically complex vision of the country. Traditionally, Panamanian
political and cultural leaders insisted on the conception of mestizaje.
In poetry, music, art, and politics, they linked national identity to
racial
mixing, highlighting their European and indigenous components, while
ignoring
almost entirely the country's black inhabitants. Balboa and Anayansi,
his
indigenous lover, were the progenitors of the republic, according to
Octavio
Méndez Pereria's 1934 novel, Núñez
de Balboa, el tesoro de Dabaibe,
which was read by
generations of Panamanian students and which
inculcated them with this sense of nationalism. Today, there is less
insistence on such uniformity and more acknowledgment of Panama's diverse
cultures, including its large
black population which became demographically dominant during the
colony and
which was strengthened by subsequent infusions from the West Indies. Errol Dunn (born in
1944) is a chronicler of these changes
and the ongoing efforts toward re-Africanization, a movement apparent
across Latin America
to recognize and validate its black
cultural heritage.
Jorge Dunn
Dunn
belongs to a
distinguished Afro-Antillean family with a longstanding role in the
country's
art scene. Errol's paternal grandfather immigrated from Jamaica
and became a successful
shoe designer in the early twentieth century. Two of his sons briefly
took up the profession but abandoned it to devote themselves to
painting.
Errol's father Eugene
(Eugenio, 1917-99) became a well-known artist whose works are now
valued at
thousands of dollars and appear regularly in shows and glossy
retrospectives. George or Jorge Dunn (1924-2007) had less financial
success and remained a humble street painter until his death.
Nevertheless, he also gained a multitude of followers, especially among
the
North American community, who visited his stand outside Paitilla's
Farmacia
Arrocha and purchased his captivating still-lifes and landscapes. His
hundreds of canvases can be seen across the country, hanging in locales
as
varied as private residences, pawn shops, hotels, hospitals, and the
National
Assembly. In addition, both brothers did commercial art and supported
themselves partly by decorating bars, music clubs, restaurants, and
many other
businesses. For years, Eugene
was also
employed in the Canal Zone
as a painter for
the Department of Defense.
Eugene's
son Errol descends directly from this tradition. Like his father and
many
other painters of African ancestry, he learned his craft not in an art
academy
but by fashioning billboards along the republic's highways and by
adjusting the
prices and displays in supermarkets. Such places have long served as
important venues for creative, black expression which has always
encountered
significant barriers to its entrance into museums and galleries. In
Panama,
hair salons, signs, and even car washes often display remarkable
decorative
qualities, reflective of Afro-Caribbean aesthetics and the talents of
their
underappreciated creators. In Errol's work, one can sense these
legacies,
in his propensity for appropriating iconic images, in his use of high
tone
colors and rhythmic patterns, and in the multi-sensorial quality of
much of his
expression. Like a red devil bus, charging down the avenue and stunning
its audiences with its complex performance, Errol's works seemed
designed to
grab one's attention and to incorporate the viewer into the spectacle.
Standing before his depiction of casino revelers, leaping and laughing
at their
good fortune, one can almost hear their rowdy celebration.
If
Errol's portrayal of
blackness arises, in part, from his training and connections to
working-class
culture, it also has benefited from external experiences and from
increased
contacts with the broader Diaspora. Like many Afro-Antilleans of his
generation, he has spent significant time outside the country, while
remaining
remarkably connected with his homeland. As a young man, Errol
joined the US
Army, and he worked for many years in
Europe and the United States,
where he witnessed different racial dynamics and the merits of a
stronger,
black community. These revelations came just as soul music, reggae, and
the South African and US
freedom struggles were emboldening people of color across Latin America. Returning with
what might described as a "Black
Atlantic" perspective, Errol was capable of looking "beyond nation"
and seeing its tropes and oversimplifications. The best of his pieces
document Afro-Panamanian culture. They confirm its points of
nucleation,
in the barbershop, the dance hall, the church, and other places, and
they give
eloquent testimony to the growth of black identity.
