Want to create interactive content? It’s easy in Genially!

Get started free

History of Notting Hill Carnival

Clodagh Beatty

Created on October 9, 2025

Start designing with a free template

Discover more than 1500 professional designs like these:

Corporate Christmas Presentation

Snow Presentation

Nature Presentation

Halloween Presentation

Tarot Presentation

Winter Presentation

Vaporwave presentation

Transcript

History of Notting HillCarnival

Intro

Hello everyone, my name is Jan-Sebastian. I've experienced Notting Hill Carnival for years, not just as a spectator, but from behind the scenes through work in the soundsystem business and as a photojournalist in the reggae industry. This has given me a deep appreciation for what the carnival truly represents: a dazzling celebration of Caribbean culture rooted in a history of struggle and resilience. Born from the racial tensions of late 1950s London, the carnival began as a powerful statement of community and identity for the Windrush generation. It has since grown from a small indoor act of unity into Europe's most vibrant street festival, a testament to the enduring spirit that started it all.

Caribbean Carnival Culture

The roots of Caribbean carnival are a blend of European colonial traditions and defiant African culture. In Trinidad, French pre-Lenten masquerade balls were transformed after emancipation by the formerly enslaved, who brought their own Canboulay traditions of drumming and stick-fighting to the streets, creating the vibrant 'mas' and calypso culture we see today. Grenada showcases a more visceral expression of this history with its unique 'Jab Jab' tradition. Here, revellers cover themselves in black oil, tar, or mud, wearing horns and dragging chains to represent devils. This is a potent and fearsome theatrical act, symbolising the horrors of slavery and the powerful assertion of Black freedom. Together, these traditions of celebration and resistance from islands like Trinidad and Grenada form the cultural heartbeat of carnivals worldwide

"If there weren't race riots in Notting Hill I don't believe that we would have had the Notting Hill Carnival. If it wasn't for the murder of Kelso Cochrane, Carnival wouldn't have happened."

The late Political Activist and Broadcaster, Darcus Howe

The start of Notting Hill Carnibval

To understand how Carnival took to the streets of Notting Hill, we have to look back at the extreme racial tensions of the 1950s. A flashpoint was the murder of Kelso Cochrane, a 32-year-old Antiguan carpenter, in a racist attack on Southam Street in May 1959. His murder, which remains unsolved, galvanised the community. Over 1,200 people attended his funeral in a powerful show of defiance against local racism, which spurred a public inquiry into race relations. In the wake of this, two key figures emerged. Claudia Jones, a Trinidadian activist, is widely credited with planting the seeds of Carnival in the UK. She organised a "Caribbean Carnival" indoors at St Pancras Town Hall in 1959 to celebrate Caribbean culture in a hostile environment. This led to more indoor events throughout the 60s. At the same time, a local community activist, Rhaune Laslett, was working to heal the divides on the streets of Notting Hill itself. In 1966, she organised a children's fayre and, wanting to include the West Indian community, invited the popular steel pan player Russell Henderson to perform. That was the moment the magic happened. When Henderson's steelband started weaving through Portobello Road, local residents poured out of their homes and began dancing behind them. What started as Laslett's small, multi-cultural community event spontaneously became the very first Notting Hill street carnival, born from a spirit of resistance and a desire for unity.

Early images of NHC

Claudia Jones: The Architect of Carnival's Soul

Before Carnival spilled onto the streets, its seeds were sown indoors, in an act of defiance, by a woman often called the ‘Mother of Notting Hill Carnival’: Claudia Jones. Jones was a formidable figure—a Trinidadian journalist and activist who founded Britain’s first major Black newspaper, the West Indian Gazette. In the aftermath of the 1958 Notting Hill riots and the murder of Kelso Cochrane, she saw a community traumatised and unfairly villainised by the press. Her response was powerful and strategic. In January 1959, she organised a ‘Caribbean Carnival’ inside St Pancras Town Hall. This was not just a party; it was a political statement. Two things made her event revolutionary: It was indoors: This was a deliberate choice for safety. It created a sanctuary where Caribbean culture—its music, its beauty pageants, its food—could be celebrated joyfully and without fear in a hostile London. It was broadcast on the BBC: This was a masterstroke. It took the richness of Caribbean culture directly into British living rooms, challenging racist narratives on a national scale and showing a different side to the story. While she didn't start the street festival we know today, Claudia Jones created the blueprint. She proved that carnival could be a powerful tool for unity and cultural pride. She planted the seed that would soon find its soil on the streets of Notting Hill.

Rhaune Laslett: Opening the Door to the Streets

If Claudia Jones created the sanctuary indoors, the person who opened the door and let the celebration spill onto the streets was Rhaune Laslett. Laslett was a Londoner, a community activist deeply committed to healing the racial divides in Notting Hill. She wasn't of Caribbean heritage, but she saw the tension and segregation in her neighbourhood and wanted to do something about it. Her goal was simple: to get the different communities to mix. In August 1966, she organised a humble children's street fayre. Crucially, wanting to make her West Indian neighbours feel welcome, she invited the popular steel pan player Russell Henderson and his band to perform. That single decision changed everything. The moment Henderson’s steelband began to play and weave its way down Portobello Road, the plan for a small, polite fayre was forgotten. People heard the sound of the pans—a sound they knew and loved from back home and from the indoor events—and poured out of their houses. They began to follow the band, dancing in the streets behind them. It wasn't planned; it was a completely spontaneous and joyous procession. That was it. That was the birth of the Notting Hill street carnival. Rhaune Laslett had simply set the stage, and the community's spirit did the rest.

Timeline

1960's

In 1959, following the Notting Hill race riots, activist Claudia Jones created an indoor Caribbean carnival, considered its spiritual start. The first outdoor event was in 1966, organised by Rhaune Laslett Throughout the late 60s, the festival grew organically as soundsystems began to appear on the streets.

1970's

By the early 1970s, steel bands, masqueraders, and sound systems became central features. A major clash with police in 1976 was a turning point, cementing Carnival's role as a powerful symbol of cultural resistance and Black pride in Britain.

1980's

Structure
Throughout the 1980s, Carnival became more structured with defined routes and official funding. It drew over a million people for the first time in 1987, but its growth also brought ongoing debates about safety and commercialisation.

1990's

The 90s were dominated by iconic sound systems and an expanding musical palette of dancehall, jungle, and soca. At the same time, increased organization and logistical improvements solidified Carnival's identity as a major celebration of multicultural London.

The three Soundscapes of Carnival (The Music)

Soundsystem Culture

Steel Pan Bands

Playing Mas

Pan is life, and Pan is what Trinidad and Tobago are part of, what we are about

Saxon, King Tubbys, Volcano and many more

You Can't Play Mas And Fraid Powder

+ info

+ info

+ info

Notting Hill Carnival through my lense

The Dawn of Carnival – J’Ouvert

J’Ouvert — from the French jour ouvert, meaning “daybreak” — marks the true beginning of Carnival. Rooted in Trinidadian tradition, it’s a celebration of freedom, release, and raw creativity that begins before sunrise and sets the tone for everything that follows. In Notting Hill, J’Ouvert begins around 6 a.m. in Ladbroke Grove, as the first light breaks over the streets. It’s a moment when the neighbourhood awakens in colour, rhythm, and sound — the Carnival spirit coming alive before the crowds arrive. Born out of emancipation, J’Ouvert was a space where formerly enslaved people could reclaim the streets through music, movement, and masquerade. It remains a joyful act of defiance — a time when hierarchy dissolves and everyone becomes part of the same ecstatic flow. The energy is wild, playful, and unfiltered. Revellers cover themselves in paint, mud, or powder, dancing behind rhythmic steelbands and thundering trucks, moving together as night turns into day. J’Ouvert isn’t about spectacle — it’s about liberation. It’s the soul of Carnival in its purest form: messy, rhythmic, communal, and utterly free. Photos by me

"Playing Mas" – The Glorious Spectacle

If J'ouvert is the raw, primal soul of Carnival happening in the darkness, then "Playing Mas" is its magnificent, beating heart, exploding into the daylight. This is the moment the city holds its breath. The raw energy of the dawn is transformed into a breathtaking spectacle of artistry and joy. This isn't just a random collection of people in costumes; this is the world of the Mas Bands. "Mas" is short for masquerade, and these bands are organised groups, sometimes hundreds strong, who have spent an entire year designing and creating a collective work of art around a specific theme. It's a serious tradition, a labour of love that culminates in this one glorious procession. And the costumes themselves are breathtaking. These are towering, feathered structures, intricate bikinis covered in beadwork, and majestic headpieces that seem to defy gravity. Each one is a masterpiece, but when they move together down the road to the driving sound of a soca truck, the whole becomes a shimmering, kinetic sculpture of pure energy. This is the visual payoff. Where J'ouvert uses mud and paint to strip away identity, "Playing Mas" uses feathers and jewels to build a new, fantastical one. It’s the ultimate expression of freedom and celebration—the promise of J'ouvert fulfilled in a dazzling, unapologetic explosion of colour.

Mas Bands

The Soul of Carnival: The Traditional Masqueraders

The Blue Devils of Paramin (Trinidad) What they Stand For: Like the Jab Jab, Blue Devils are a form of "devil mas," but with a unique and mischievous twist. Instead of black oil, they cover themselves in vibrant blue paint. They are impish, agile figures who perform incredible acrobatic feats. A key part of their tradition is interacting with the crowd—they spit fake "blood" (red food dye) and perform menacingly until onlookers give them money to "pay the devil" and be left alone. This street theatre is a form of social commentary, a playful but powerful enactment of disruption and ransom. Their Roots: This specific tradition comes from the village of Paramin, high in the hills of Trinidad. It is a hyperlocal culture that has become one of the most iconic and thrilling parts of Trinidad's J'ouvert celebrations, showcasing how a single community can create a globally recognised carnival tradition. The Moko Jumbie (West Africa & The Caribbean) What they Stand For: Towering high above the crowds on stilts, the Moko Jumbie is a spiritual guardian. Unlike the earth-bound devils, they represent a connection to the heavens and the ancestors. Their incredible height allows them to see evil and protect the community below. The "Moko" is a deity from West African mythology, and "Jumbie" is a Caribbean word for a spirit or ghost. The Moko Jumbie is therefore a direct cultural link back to Africa, a graceful, dancing protector who balances between the spiritual and physical worlds. Their Roots: The Moko Jumbie tradition was carried from West Africa to the Caribbean during the transatlantic slave trade. Today, it is a cherished part of Carnival in many islands, most notably Trinidad and Tobago and the US Virgin Islands, representing resilience, spiritual protection, and the enduring power of African heritage.

The Jab Jab (Grenada)

Beyond the feathers and glitter of "pretty mas," there are the traditional characters—living, breathing symbols of history, folklore, and resistance.

+ info

More than a party

So, as we bring this all together, I want to return to why this event is so important to me but especially for the black and caribbean community. Having spent years on these streets, not just taking photos but playing gigs and feeling the bass vibrate through my entire body from behind a soundsystem, I can tell you this with certainty: Carnival is so much more than just a party. Everything we've talked about is connected. It begins with that defiant spirit born from the ashes of racial tension and the murder of Kelso Cochrane. That spirit needed a voice, and it found one in the music—the rolling, melodic story of the steel pan and the raw, static power of the soundsystems. And that music is the engine that drives it all. It fuels the raw, liberating chaos of J'ouvert, where traditions like the Jab Jab serve as a fierce reminder of the fight for freedom. Then, that same energy drives the explosion of artistry and joy in the Mas parade, transforming a history of struggle into a spectacular, unapologetic celebration. So, when you see the feathers and hear the music, remember what it truly represents. Notting Hill Carnival is a living, breathing symbol of the Windrush generation's legacy. It's a testament to the true multicultural identity of London—a city shaped and enriched by the very communities that had to fight for their right to celebrate. Every costume, every steel pan note, and every heavy bassline is a powerful act of cultural preservation and a continued act of protest. It's a beautiful, noisy, and vibrant declaration that says: "We are here. We have a voice. And these streets are ours."

"Carnival proves the most powerful act of resistance is defiant, unapologetic joy."

Mangrove Mas Band: One of the oldest and most legendary bands, Mangrove is deeply connected to the history of Carnival. It grew out of the Mangrove Steelband and is famous for its rich history of activism and its stunning, traditional, and elaborate costumes. They are true Carnival royalty. Ebony Mas Band: Another one of the foundational "big bands" of Notting Hill, Ebony has been on the road since 1969. They are renowned for their incredible artistry, consistently winning "Band of the Year" titles. Their costumes are always spectacular and meticulously crafted. Utopia Mas: Representing a more modern, high-energy approach, Utopia Mas is known for its glamorous, "pretty mas" style costumes, often featuring intricate wire-bending and beautiful beadwork. They bring a huge, vibrant crowd and a massive party vibe to the road. D Riddim Tribe: This is a band that perfectly blends traditional storytelling with a modern party atmosphere. They are known for having strong thematic concepts that are beautifully executed in their costumes, creating a fantastic visual narrative as they parade.

Soundsystems

Rooted in Jamaican musical heritage, static soundsystems have become the beating heart of Notting Hill Carnival. Brought to the UK by Caribbean communities, these setups transformed London’s streets into open-air dancehalls. Each soundsystem is a destination — a space where rhythm, community, and culture collide. Behind the decks, selectors spin carefully chosen records while MCs command the crowd with words and energy. Exclusive dubplates — one-off recordings made for particular soundsystems — add to the excitement, carrying personal messages and unique versions of tracks. And then there’s the bass — deep, physical, and all-encompassing. It’s not just sound; it’s vibration. You feel it in your chest, your bones, your entire being. Unlike the moving steelbands, which bring melody and motion along the route, static soundsystems hold their ground. They’re cultural anchors — drawing thousands to specific corners of Carnival, where people gather to dance, connect, and celebrate.

Playing Mas

Mas, short for masquerade, is the vibrant, visual soul of Carnival. It brings stories to life through costume, movement, and colour — a living expression of freedom and creativity rooted in Caribbean tradition. From its origins in Trinidad’s emancipation celebrations, Mas has evolved into a dazzling spectacle. Feathers, beads, and glitter transform the streets into a moving canvas, celebrating beauty, identity, and unity. Each band tells its own story, inviting revellers — known as masqueraders — to become part of the performance. Fueling this energy is Soca music — born from the fusion of calypso rhythms and Indian percussion. Its fast tempo and infectious spirit drive the Carnival forward, creating a pulse that’s impossible to resist. With every beat, Soca calls people to dance, to connect, to feel alive. Together, Mas and Soca embody the joy of movement — the celebration of culture in motion, where sound, art, and people merge into one unstoppable wave of rhythm and colour.

Steel Pan Bands

Born in Trinidad and Tobago, the steel pan is a symbol of creativity, resistance, and pride. Crafted from discarded oil drums, it emerged from a history of struggle — transforming industrial waste into an instrument of joy and defiance. The steel pan carries the melodic heartbeat of Carnival. Its bright, shimmering tones glide through the streets, leading processions that dance and sway to its rhythm. At the heart of this tradition lies Panorama — the legendary competition where steelbands perform with breathtaking skill and passion. Hours of rehearsal culminate in powerful performances that celebrate community, artistry, and the enduring spirit of Carnival. Unlike the static soundsystems, the steelbands are always on the move — their music travelling through the crowds, guiding the flow of celebration. They embody motion, melody, and unity in sound.

Jab Jab Posse

What they Stand For: The Jab Jab is one of the most primal and potent expressions of resistance in the entire Caribbean. Revellers cover their bodies in black oil, tar, or mud, wear horns, and often carry chains or props. This is a direct and fearsome reclamation of identity. By embodying the "devil" (Jab Jab comes from the French Patois for diable diable), they mock the European slave owners who dehumanised them as savage or demonic. It's a powerful and intentionally intimidating spectacle, turning a symbol of oppression into an emblem of freedom and unshakeable spirit. Their Roots: The Jab Jab tradition is most famously from Grenada, where it is the absolute heart of their Spicemas carnival. It was born in the years following emancipation in the 1830s, when the formerly enslaved took to the streets to celebrate their freedom in the most visceral way they could imagine.