We have fond memories of Dalton Narine as a writer and a friend. He passed away on February 11 and left the pan fraternity in mourning. Dalton was our muse on many things about pan. He had strong opinions about Panorama, once describing it as a blocking agent in pan’s development. He believed too much energy was spent on the competition, leaving bands little time for anything else.
Dalton had an encyclopedic knowledge of the instrument and even deeper details of Trinidad All Stars, a band where he played and that he worshipped unapologetically. He was already ailing when we spoke to him two years ago. Still, he found time to respond when he learned our subject was pan.
A US Vietnam War veteran who suffered the harsh effects of Agent Orange for decades, Dalton once wrote: “I must have been born in a rifle chamber” to show how that war enveloped him. He was drafted after he got out of New York University and served in the First Infantry Division.
Later, he put what he learned in script writing at NYU into producing 14 documentaries, mostly on Trinidad’s art and culture and their icons. Best known as a writer and editor, he worked at Ebony magazine, the Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel, and The Miami Herald. Dalton also wrote for the New York Village Voice and the Guardian and Express newspapers in Trinidad. In recent years, he wrote memoir-like pieces in Medium.
Dalton said his mother made sure he was born in Gonzales, a district named after his Venezuelan grandfather Frederico Gonzales. But they lived on the same street with the late, great pan icon Rudolph Charles, a stone’s throw from the Desperadoes’ pan yard.
Sadly, his mother died when he was very young. He and his brother stayed with their father while his sister went to live with relatives. He recalled that when he lived in Success Village, Laventille, he first heard Bertie Marshall tuning pans on his way home from school. One day, Bertie called him to listen to the Bertphone, an amplified pan that Dalton declared was “the best pan ever made on earth.” Bertie encouraged him to play in Highlanders, a band originally led by tuner Kim Loy Wong. Wong had migrated and was one of the first pan pioneers to help spread the use of the instrument, making an educational video with American folk singer Pete Seeger. Dalton said he was forced to be discreet about his Highlanders’ stint because of his All Stars’ affiliation.
His writings on pan and Panorama led him to a job at TTT as a broadcast analyst. He credits cricket and football great Alvin Corneal for taking him to TTT and its manager John Barsotti for giving him the opportunity. After a few years covering Panorama from the TTT booth, Dalton sold Barsotti on letting him interview arrangers and players on stage.
In that role, television audiences began to appreciate Dalton’s passion for pan and his keen insights into the steel bands, their personnel, and their music. On Panorama nights, Dalton introduced the arrangers to the audience and asked them all the hard questions. He wasn’t afraid to broach controversy or probe issues. In a video on When Steel Talks, he said the late Earl Rodney and Ken “Professor” Philmore were his most interesting interviews and that Neville Jules was the most knowledgeable pan personality. He believed Len Boogsie Sharpe was the shyest. Edmundo Ross was the most exciting personality he met outside of pan, and Peter Minshall was the most important.
Dalton poured his heart into writing, broadcasting, and filmmaking. His unparalleled energy brought his subjects to life with a distinctive storytelling flair. Much of his works resonated deeply because he didn't just report stories — he became part of them. He infused his presence into every narrative, greatly enriching our experience. One good example is his compelling interview "Panorama Murdering Silence" with the late steel band arranger Raf Robertson.
Garvin Blake, a musician and composer who once teamed up with Raf in a quartet and, like Raf, also arranged for steel bands, feels the loss we all do. “As an interviewer, Dalton's questions were both analytical and casual,” says Garvin. “He created a feeling that you're eavesdropping on an intimate conversation between close friends as they share stories and reveal the secrets of their craft.”
Dalton Narine became a Panorama institution. Audiences eagerly awaited his insightful commentary and the nuanced details he revealed, enriching our understanding of the competition. He delivered it all with a voluminous vibe and vitality. He embraced our attention and encouraged his interviewees to do the same. It's hardly an exaggeration to say Dalton became a cultural icon. The nation has truly lost a treasured figure.