Big Chief Monk Boudreaux

Descendants of runaway slaves that found refuge among the native tribes in the Louisiana bayous, Mardi Gras Indian tribes have a unique place in both the cultural and musical history of New Orleans, and each tribe has their respective Big Chief.

This is a photograph of Big Chief Monk Boudreaux of the Golden Eagles tribe, taken during a performance at Tipitina's which coincided with his recent birthday celebration.  Born in 1941, he can still hold his own on stage for a few hours.

If you are curious about this musical tradition you may want to view the documentary film, Bury the Hatchet (2010).  The film, directed by Aaron Walker, was awarded the Grand Prize at the 2009 Royal Anthropological Institute's International Festival of Ethnographic Film.

If you just want to sample the sounds, you can do so HERE.

Second Line: Bodies in Motion

Dancing Man 504

The "Main Line" is the core section of the parade, and members of the social club.  The "Second Line" can be described as the trailing fans and onlookers dancing behind the Main Line.  On Sunday, December 5th I was able to weave in and out of the Second Line trailing the Dumaine Street Gang.

One of my favorites characters was Dancing Man 504.  [504 is reference to the local area code, and if you want to follow him more closely, you can do so via his facebook page.]

His name is Darryl Young, a native of NOLA dedicated to promoting local New Orleans culture related to dance, music and second lines.  He is tireless, athletic, exuberant, graceful, and contagious.

And he doesn't always dance alone, literally attracting onlookers such as this young lady who followed him for a bit while keeping in step.

osteo|fright...

Vejigante

Island carnivals with people wearing colorful affectations adorned with horns and dancing around on stilts, the scene recurs annually in Ponce and a few other island towns. Some spectators know of the origins...re-enactments of a medieval battle during the age of the Reconquista. The masks are uncomfortable reminders of an artful demonization of the Other.  Today, these veils are a more common presence in markets and stalls, disembodied and displayed in kiosks...awaiting the eager tourist to claim them as a trophy.

Such guises and their folkloric baggage are mostly distant memories or so I thought, until I looked up one morning and saw it dancing along the leaves of our Black Walnut tree.

[Fe] and other Ironies...

My very good friend Roberto visited this past weekend.  He suggested we find an urban setting and take some photos, so we settled on a strip of Columbia Pike in South Arlington.

I heard echoes of familiar places from my childhood as we walked past the Botánica Boricua (a one-stop shopping paradise for the local Espiritistas) and the Orisha ornamentations in their window.

A few steps away from the herbalist, I was reminded of a different Plant and his heavy metal melodies about a lady buying a...

("There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure...")

("With a word she can get what she came for...")

("And the voices of those who stand looking..."):
("ooh, it makes me wonder...")
("ooh, it makes me wonder...")

(" 'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings....")