The National Endowment for the Humanities invited me to a week-long workshop in New Orleans called New Orleans: Music, Culture, and Civil Rights. For about the last seven years I have had a strong love for New Orleans ever since I realized the amazing music (not just jazz) that hails from this city. In my week, I have learned why so much great music comes from New Orleans, and how this can help me as a teacher and a writer.
Hey Pocky Way by The Meters
Lyrics:
Feel good music, I've been told
Good for your body and it's good for your soul
Hey Pocky Way by The Meters
Lyrics:
Feel good music, I've been told
Good for your body and it's good for your soul
Dorotha “Dodie” Smith Simmons told our group of about twenty-five, “It’s not New Orleans Jazz, it’s New Orleans music.” This is because a lot of the music from this city cannot be called jazz, and cannot be denied. I knew our workshop was going to focus on all of the great music from New Orleans when we visited Congo Square. Baba Luther Grey had our group dancing and drumming in the hot sun of Congo Square, the gathering spot on Sundays for slaves and free men of color. These gatherings were full of drumming and dancing. The Africans in the square would bring the rhythms and instrumentation from their home regions of Africa. These roots, stirred with the reality of slavery and spiced with the rebellious act of celebration, created the gumbo known as jazz. Dodie said, “It’s participatory music. No spectators.” Baba Luther Grey had everyone taking turns on different drums and playing different rhythms. I knew this week would not be conventional weekend when I heard a rhythm I recognized. I paused. I thought. Then it came to me — Shake Your A$$ by Mystikal. This song has always been a favorite, a goto party song to get everyone dancing. When you get a bunch of teachers playing Mystikal on a Monday morning, you know it’s going to be a good week.
That night I went and see world-renowned trumpet player Irvin Mayfield’s new group called Cirque du Freak. When I walked into Kermit’s Mother-in-Law Lounge I didn’t think Mayfield was playing yet, because there as a DJ on stage with turntables. I looked again. It was Mayfield on the turntables. He would be welcomed in any jazz club, but instead he was DJing in a small bar. His DJ set evolved into a odd electronic jazz band that the reminded me of Herbie Hancock and Miles Davis with his Jheri-curl. The music was great. It had a fun, funky groove with passionate and uninhibited solos. Then Kermit Ruffins, bar owner and local legend trumpet player, came to the stage. He sang “Let’s Stay Together,” traded solos with Mayfield, and rapped about how lazy his wait staff is. The music, with the free red beans and rice, made the night one of the best.
Tuesday was full of brass bands — my favorite type of New Orleans music. We had a private concert from the LEGENDARY Treme Brass Band. These guys can make a potato dance. New Orleans music isn’t about impressing the audience, it’s about making the audience have a great time. We did! A lot of brass bands have some fringe players that are in and out. We were lucky to have Corey Henry perform at our show. That night I was able to bully about a third of our group to go to the Maple Leaf to see Rebirth Brass Band. Rebirth has been playing the same bar every Tuesday night for 27 years! The band has members that range in age from original members in their 50s and members in their early 20s. The legendary bar was packed and Rebirth killed it while playing under the picture of James Booker’s prone body. Side note: I took this picture of a piano in the back of the bar. I can only imagine this was the piano Booker used during his legendary residency at the Maple Leaf.
My favorite moment, one that I think summed up New Orleans as a music town, happened when we were leaving Rebirth. My friend Charles and I called an Uber. When it arrived, the first thing our driver asked was, “How was Rebirth?” This was actually odd, since ever Uber driver before said they don’t go out and see live music. Then our driver, Javon, said he plays with Rebirth sometimes. Then he told us he co-wrote the last two songs on their album. Javon said his main band is the Stooges Brass Band. I told him I’ve seen them three times. Twice in Philly and once at Michael Arnone’s Crawfish Festival in New Jersey. Then we both, at the same time said, “When you/we invited the kid on stage.” A little backstory: when we entered Crawfish fest that year, there was a kid named Mason playing a homemade percussion set at the gate. When we went to the stage to see The Stooges, Mason’s set was on stage. He played the whole show (un-miced), they even invited him to the merch table afterwards to sign stuff. That’s where I met the band afterwards and had them sign a copy of Street Music. When it was Mason’s turn to sign it, one of the guys in the band asked, “Do you even know cursive?” Mason laughed and said, “Of course I do.” He then proceeded to print his name and add a large squiggle in the middle to make it look like cursive :-)
I had two takeaways from this night: first, New Orleans musicians realize the importance of education. The older musicians are always teaching younger ones, as they were taught when they were younger. And second, sometimes talented musicians still need to drive an Uber to make ends meet.
My favorite moment, one that I think summed up New Orleans as a music town, happened when we were leaving Rebirth. My friend Charles and I called an Uber. When it arrived, the first thing our driver asked was, “How was Rebirth?” This was actually odd, since ever Uber driver before said they don’t go out and see live music. Then our driver, Javon, said he plays with Rebirth sometimes. Then he told us he co-wrote the last two songs on their album. Javon said his main band is the Stooges Brass Band. I told him I’ve seen them three times. Twice in Philly and once at Michael Arnone’s Crawfish Festival in New Jersey. Then we both, at the same time said, “When you/we invited the kid on stage.” A little backstory: when we entered Crawfish fest that year, there was a kid named Mason playing a homemade percussion set at the gate. When we went to the stage to see The Stooges, Mason’s set was on stage. He played the whole show (un-miced), they even invited him to the merch table afterwards to sign stuff. That’s where I met the band afterwards and had them sign a copy of Street Music. When it was Mason’s turn to sign it, one of the guys in the band asked, “Do you even know cursive?” Mason laughed and said, “Of course I do.” He then proceeded to print his name and add a large squiggle in the middle to make it look like cursive :-)
I had two takeaways from this night: first, New Orleans musicians realize the importance of education. The older musicians are always teaching younger ones, as they were taught when they were younger. And second, sometimes talented musicians still need to drive an Uber to make ends meet.
Wednesday we toured The Backstreet Cultural Museum. The parades that are iconic to Mardi Gras today started as a rebellion to the French Mardi Gras celebration. Slaves and free people of color were not allowed to participate in the French Mardi Gras. So they dressed in elaborate Native American costumes, drag, and blackface and held their own parades that started in the Treme neighborhood, right where I-10 lands now. These parades were more fun, and eventually overtook in popularity the parades they were mocking. To say the costumes were elaborate and full of celebration, pride, and story. They were made all year only to be worn for a day. One thing that always made me wonder about Mardi Gras was how the native american influence happened. What I learned was that oftentimes escaped slaves would live with a Native American tribe. Each culture respected and influenced the others.
Thursday was easily my favorite. We went to Preservation Hall. I’ve never known what to make of Pres. Hall — a tourist trap recreating the days of ol’ or a necessary snapshot of an important American moment in time. It’s the latter. New Orleans music and musicians have never been big on genres. They subscribe to Duke Ellington’s idea of only two genres of music — good and bad. Because of this music has kept evolving in New Orleans, beyond jazz. Well Preservation Hall is a perfect snapshot of the jazz my grandfather loved. The weaving woodwinds. The subtle, delicate beat. The layered piano. Our group was given a private concert in Preservation Hall. I walked in, saw a seat front and center, and grabbed it. The show was absolutely beautiful. Each song took me away. My favorite was “You Are my Sunshine” — a song my daughter loves to sing and learned as a present for my wife on Mother’s Day. About half of our group were music teachers. We all joined in singing the song. After a few verses, the band dropped out and sat back and enjoyed our choir. I sat near a music teacher named Veronica. When she sang I heard one of my favorite voices ever — Edith Piaf meets Ella Fitzgerald. Seriously. Band members started to smile and point her out to each other. It really was that beautiful.
There was an optional outing to Studio Be. I’d heard chatter about how amazing it was, but knew nothing. I didn’t even know what it was. I decided to go on this blind date, and was really moved. I’m usually the type that finds art museums boring. Nine out of ten times they are. B Mike took over an abandoned Treme housing project and turned it into a gallery. He spray painted right on the sheetrock. The project grew in popularity and was shut down. Then B Mike opened Studio Be. It included some of the original sheetrock pieces for the housing project and more new pieces. I really can’t add commentary that will do my experience justice. One idea that was clear throughout B Mike’s art, is the Civil Rights Movement is not over.
There was an optional outing to Studio Be. I’d heard chatter about how amazing it was, but knew nothing. I didn’t even know what it was. I decided to go on this blind date, and was really moved. I’m usually the type that finds art museums boring. Nine out of ten times they are. B Mike took over an abandoned Treme housing project and turned it into a gallery. He spray painted right on the sheetrock. The project grew in popularity and was shut down. Then B Mike opened Studio Be. It included some of the original sheetrock pieces for the housing project and more new pieces. I really can’t add commentary that will do my experience justice. One idea that was clear throughout B Mike’s art, is the Civil Rights Movement is not over.
Friday was bittersweet, our last day. That morning I saw Veronica signing to everyone at the omelet station. I knew she had a song bursting inside of her. That afternoon we had our closing ceremony at a former US Mint. After a performance and Q & A from some AMAZING musicians, including presenter and piano player Dr. Courtney Bryan and Preservation Hall saxophonist Calvin Johnson. Next, co-leader Bruce “Sunpie” Barnes lead a band as we snacked and celebrated. Before Bruce’s performance, I joked with Veronica that I was going to get her to perform one more time. We laughed, but I was serious. As Bruce finished his last song, I shouted, “Hey Bruce, can Veronica sing a song?” He said, sure, but continued to pack up. Veronica walked up, nervous and caught off-guard. Dr. Courtney Bryan joined her and together they gave a memorable performance. There were only a few dry eyes in the house after her song, which beautifully closed the week.
A few things were very clear through my week in New Orleans. The people here are proud of their city — as they should be. New Orleans is different than any other city in America and the reason is education. The musicians here start young and have a variety of learning experiences. Yes, there is some classroom learning as a musician, but what makes the great ones great is their experiences. Many of the musicians I met would suggest becoming Facebook friends and staying in touch. They love New Orleans music and want to talk about it when they can’t play it. It’s through this immersive and experiential education that the music can evolve so quickly and be so diverse. Like a game of whisper down the lane, each musician takes only the element they hear, and want from the different genres of music that surround them. In this school year, I hope to provide my students New-Orleans-style feel-good education. Get out of your seat and learn.
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