Scripted by Mariel Brown

Introduction

The story of how Queen’s Hall got built is nothing short of inspiring.  Both the fact of its construction and its continued existence are testimony to the power of individual dreams and the tenacity to see them through to fruition.

Johnstone, Northcote, Festivals and Hangars

The late 1940s early 50s was, for many in Trinidad, a time of tremendous optimism and hope.  The Second World War was over, and slowly but surely, the austerity that was par for the course during the war was fading away.  All around the Caribbean, independence movements were gathering momentum, and there was talk of a West Indies Federation that would unite the region.
Culturally, there was a burgeoning awareness of the pleasures of leisure and entertainment.  Numerous cinemas around the island showed the latest Hollywood flicks to often packed houses.  The newspapers reported constantly on the exploits of Elizabeth Taylor, Humphrey Bogart and Bette Davis.  Trinidadian performers such as Winifred Atwell and Geoffrey Holder were enjoying success overseas, and thriving local operatic and dramatic societies meant there was no shortage of plays and performances to go to if one was so inclined.  With the formation of the Trinidad All Steel Percussion Orchestra (TASPO), steelpan was beginning to gain the legitimacy and societal acceptance that had so far eluded its development, and in 1948, the Trinidad Music Association held its first bi-annual Music Festival. 
The festival – which ran for a number of weeks – took place in locations around the country, with the major competitions being held at the Roxy Cinema, Globe Cinema, and the Boy Scouts Headquarters in St Anns.  The Festival enjoyed both a high number of entrants and tremendous support from a public hungry for quality musical performances.  A delighted editorial in one Sunday Guardian proclaimed that, “Amid the harsh noises of our day, the thunder of atomic projectiles and the brazen clash of ideologies, how comforting to know that the soul of a people can still find expression in some simple song or low, sweet prelude!”1  The first Music Festival received 572 entries.  By the second festival, which took place in 1950, entries had doubled to just over 1000, and singers and musicians performed to packed audiences in locations that were far from ideal. 
Acoustics, lighting, seating and facilities for performers were all problematic and often sub-standard in the venues used for hosting live performances.  But Festival organisers had little choice – the fact is that nothing had been purpose-built for the live performing arts, so people made do with the few existing locations.  In an article in the Trinidad Guardian, Aubrey Starck, President of the Trinidad Dramatic Club, wrote:
“What is so remarkable is that there is, in fact, no theatre here, for there is so much talent which could be developed and presented in a form that will draw the crowds and provide excellent entertainment.
“Turning to what is usually described as the ‘legitimate’ stage, we have the plays presented by the Whitehall Players, the Arts Theatre, the Trinidad Dramatic Club, to say nothing of the excellent shows which come from the Southern Dramatic Society and others.
“What facilities are there for presenting these various forms of entertainment?”2 
It was around 1950 that the seeds for a concert hall were sewn in the then chairman of the Trinidad Music Association (TMA), May Johnstone

Born in England in 1900, Helen May Johnstone (née Russell) came to Trinidad aged 6, when her father, Justice A.D. Russell was appointed to Trinidad’s Supreme Court.  Educated in England, May returned to Trinidad in 1921, whereupon she met and married Robert Johnstone.  She taught choral lessons at Bishop Anstey High School and in 1941 the TMA was formed under her chairmanship.
To judge the 1950 Music Festival, May Johnstone and the TMA invited an English adjudicator, Dr Sydney Northcote.  Deeply impressed by the standard of entries in the Festival but recognising the inadequacy of the venues in Trinidad for effectively staging such concerts, Northcote quickly began clamouring for improved facilities for the hosting of performance events.
But the issue of a concert hall for Trinidad was by no means a new one.  Letters to the press persistently bemoaned the dearth of proper facilities. In a letter to the editor of the Trinidad Guardian, Cecil Gray had this to say:  “…the years go by and our theatre remains a dream.  Our ‘leaders;’ have taken up other causes – popular ones, of course – while unstintingly paying lip service to the idea of an adequate concert hall, auditorium and theatre.  Unless some group or individual takes on the task of marshalling public opinion and support, then this state of apathy will continue.”3
In truth, with so much of the country requiring basic services such as water and electricity, the Government could well argue that the spending of public funds for the purpose of entertainment could not, in all fairness, be justified.  None-the-less, May Johnstone and Dr Northcote immediately became the strongest proponents of the development of a concert hall that would be dedicated to the performing arts.  Of his experiences at the 1950 Music Festival, Dr Northcote wrote:
 “The festival extended over a fortnight.  It was held at the only building available, the Scouts Headquarters in Port of Spain, which was totally inadequate for the purpose.  The vast throngs of people who came to every session had to queue for never less than an hour each time, in the hope of getting a seat; but the majority had to be content to sit outside.  The competitors had perforce to wait in adjoining hutments out of sight, only hearing the proceedings through loud speakers which had been connected with the main building.  Yet their patience and zeal never wavered.
“But the lack of a proper festival hall, or even anything approaching it, is undoubtedly most serious.  Apart from the musical festival, there are other important manifestations of native culture, in drama and dance and the like, which are similarly handicapped.
“The project for which I am now appealing to you is one which I confidently predict will have the most far-reaching influence in the social and cultural welfare in the whole colony.”4
As an example of a concert hall built with a minimum of expense, Northcote told Johnstone about a theatre in a small community in Wales that had utilised, for its main structure, an abandoned airplane hangar.  “…When I first arrived at the airport at Port of Spain,” wrote Northcote, “I had observed a number of unused hangars.  I told the pressmen that what could be done in Port of Spain had already been done with great success in Wales some thirty years ago; in short, the rebuilding of one of these hangars on a central site, with the interior adapted so as to provide, at one end, a concert platform, and at the other end, a proscenium stage for dramatic performances.”5
Johnstone jumped at the idea, which seemed practical, inexpensive, and manageable.  In September of 1950, May Johnstone, her husband, Robert Johnstone, and Dr Northcote, met with Colonial Office officials to discuss the hangar idea.  By the end of the meeting, the Colonial Office was set to recommend that immediate action be taken in regards to the building of a concert hall, and in April of 1951, Johnstone and the Trinidad Music Association forwarded to the Government a full memorandum outlining a scheme for converting a hangar into a Concert Hall and Community Centre.
By the time the 3rd Music Festival rolled around in 1952 – which, incidentally was a milestone year for the steelpan, since, due to May Johnstone’s insistence, for the first time, pan was included in the competition of the Festival – it had become abundantly clear to everyone that Trinidad needed a concert hall.  During the two weeks of the festival, there was almost daily mention in the press of the need for a hall:

Trinidad Guardian, 24/2/52

“Concert Hall Need Pressing”
“With the approach of the third Trinidad and Tobago Music Festival, more than ever before is felt the need of a concert hall designed, not only to accommodate audiences of a considerable size but also to enable competitors to perform and to be heard without the aid of microphones and loud speakers.
“While the Festival Committee is grateful for the use of the Globe Theatre, a number of competitors have expressed uneasiness about the possibility of having to perform there on account of the difficult acoustical properties experienced on previous occasions.”

In addition to the problems experienced by performers (both on stage and off), much to the dismay of would-be concert-goers, due to a shortage of seating at the Boy Scouts Headquarters, tickets for the final night of competition were sold out a full two weeks in advance.  One reporter commented, “Davidson & Todd Ltd. are having quite a bit of trouble with members of the public, who refuse to believe that complete bookings for the night have been snapped up.”6  And every night patrons were being turned away at the gates: “Record crowds attended the Music Festival yesterday afternoon and last night,” reported the Guardian.  “Last night’s attendance – 810 - was the biggest the festival has attracted at the boy scouts headquarters.  The Hall is only made to hold 600.  Hundreds of people were turned away at both afternoon and evening sessions yesterday.7
Galvanised into action by the undeniable popularity of the Music Festival, the growing demand for popular live forms of entertainment and the conviction and support of people such as Sydney Northcote, and Hubert Rance (the then Governor) May Johnstone continued to lobby Government for a definitive response to the TMA’s memorandum.