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.
