Beyond the stage: What the Elephant Man, cameraman debacle says about the local entertainment industry
A stage is supposed to be a place where traditional boundaries dissolve. As artistes take on larger-than-life personas in the name of entertainment, ordinary rules that govern everyday codes of conduct may be placed on the back burner. But even as an entertainer is given room to be spontaneous and uninhibited, the stage is also a workplace occupied by cameramen, photographers, sound engineers, and countless other professionals whose combined efforts make the show successful.
That reality came into sharp focus during the recent staging of Dream Wknd when dancehall veteran Elephant Man pushed a cameraman during his performance. The incident quickly became a talking point, with reactions divided over where the boundaries should lie between an artiste’s performance space and the responsibilities of support personnel working around the stage.
Some argued that camera operators can sometimes get too close to artistes in pursuit of the perfect shot. Others questioned whether an artiste’s status as the star of the show gives them the right to physically confront someone who is simply doing their job.
For entertainment attorney-at-law, artiste manager, and chairman of the Jamaica Reggae Industry Association (JaRIA) Ewan Simpson, the answer begins with recognising that being on stage does not remove an artiste’s responsibility to respect the rights of others.
“Being in character does not create immunity from civil or criminal law. A line is crossed when conduct stops being reasonably connected to an agreed performance and becomes unauthorised physical interference with another person,” Simpson explained.
He noted that whether an incident amounts to assault, battery, or another offence would depend on the circumstances, including what could reasonably have been anticipated.
“If the elements of assault, battery, or another offence are met, ‘it was part of my performance’ is not automatically a defence,” Simpson said. “The courts will look at what was agreed beforehand, customary practice, and whether the conduct exceeded what could reasonably be anticipated.”
While the law provides one lens through which to view the incident, Simpson believes the industry itself needs to reconsider how it views the stage.
“A concert is entertainment for the audience but a workplace for everyone producing it, including camera crews, technicians, performers, and security,” he said.
That distinction, he believes, is important in an industry in which many working arrangements continue to operate through an ‘understanding’.
“The industry needs greater standardisation. Too often these environments run on custom and verbal instruction despite involving significant money, equipment, and physical risk,” Simpson said.
But there may be another reason why behaviour that would ordinarily be considered unacceptable can sometimes be overlooked once the lights come on.
Donna Hope, professor of culture, gender, and society, said live entertainment can create what she describes as a “special bubble” in which normal social rules may appear temporarily suspended.
“The live event setting is often perceived to be separate from real society,” she explained. “It is almost as if… there is a temporary hiatus from the regular or real society.”
Within that environment, Hope said, aggression can be interpreted as passion, defiance as authenticity, and unpredictability as part of an artiste’s appeal.
Jamaicans, she noted, also have a long-standing tradition of using humour and performance to process serious issues.
“We make ‘fun and joke’ about many serious issues because that is our way of ventilating and blowing off steam in a cathartic fashion onstage and also now on social media,” she said.
Citing the influence of cultural icon Louise Bennett-Covereley, Hope pointed to the Jamaican saying, “tek kin teet kibba heart bun”, as an example of how humour can sometimes be used to mask painful or difficult situations. But there are limits to what audiences will accept.
“These moments have to fit in with the context in which you are operating,” Hope cautioned. “Artistes and their teams have to be very careful about what they may desire as ‘spontaneous’ onstage activity. Even if it is actually scripted, the audience’s response may not go as expected.”
That risk has grown considerably in the age of smartphones and social media. A moment that once would have ended when the curtains came down can now be captured on video, uploaded, and viewed by thousands of people within minutes. Hope said that reality should change the way artistes think about their conduct.
“The superstars are usually the ones who hold the power of the microphone – what is often referred to as word, sound, power,” she said. “The superstars are the ones who are on the posters and flyers. The people behind the scenes, however, often do not have the same visibility.”
But once an incident is captured and circulated online, the balance of power can shift.
“Video clips are shared instantaneously; persons are going live, and so the wider and more dispersed audience will also weigh in on an activity that took place,” Hope said, indicating that, as a result, artistes are increasingly being judged not only by their musical performances, but also by how they conduct themselves while performing.
“An artiste has to be very careful about how he/she toes the line and must be aware of what social taboos are being breached. Racist, classist, and sexist comments can and often do attract strong social condemnation,” Hope said.
It would be easy, then, for the conversation to begin and end with Elephant Man. The artiste could be condemned or defended. The cameraman could be portrayed as either victim or intruder. But the confrontation has exposed a bigger issue: Preserving the spontaneity and freedom that make live performances exciting while ensuring that the people working behind and around the artiste are treated as professionals.
For Simpson and Hope, those two objectives do not have to be at odds. Professionalism does not have to diminish artistry. As Simpson puts it, “While the stage belongs to the artiste during the performance, the workplace belongs to everyone who makes that performance possible.”