The Ragin Cajuns

Late morning on Monday I boarded Amtrak, and left New Orleans for Lafayette, Louisiana. My day job sent me there for a two-day, in-the-field training session with a colleague. Little did I know that this small town would be such a wonderful gem!

We stayed at a quaint little bed n' breakfast called the Blue Moon Saloon. The early morning banging and fire alarm drill are but a small blip in my memory now, as I recall how the funky ambiance and charming French boarders from University of Virginia entertained my work buddy and me over wine our last night there.

Best of all were the wonderful crew of public radio station KRVS 88.7 who showed us their town, introduced us to the cultural movers and shakers of the community, and treated us to the best business lunch on record.

Although not quite the same as New Orleans, Lafayette certainly has its share of beautiful Francophone architecture, as well as gorgeously landscaped parks and public grounds. University of Louisiana Lafayette's Cypress Swamp, with alligators and all, was particularly pretty even if we didn't get to see any of its reptilian inhabitants.

At our station meeting I met folk musician D'Jalma Garnier, and the host of Zydeco Est Pas Salé John Broussard. These two Creoles were the essence of Francophone Louisiana culture - recounting the area's history and its elders, describing the cuisine and its authentic purveyors, and rolling both French and Creole with ease off the tongue. What the hell does Alan Richman know anywho?

The piece de resistance was Executive Chef Terryl Jackson's culinary masterpiece at Prejean's Restaurant. He came out to greet us and the station staff as we sampled his delectable selection of Cajun cuisine. Blackened redfish smothered with crawfish étouffée, dirty rice, eggplant and okra gumbo, seafood fried catfish, stuffed mushrooms, pecan pie - the list went on and on and no matter how much coffee I drank after it all I was still overcome with the "itis." I thanked Terryl and his mama for teaching him how to cook like that, and rolled out of my chair and out the door.

I must admit the most enjoyable part was the overall feeling of Lafayette. Sure it's small town living, but the cultural traditions are so rich and so much a daily part of life for the people living there that it's a far more sophisticated existence in many ways than living in New York City. I will have to come back to this place again, and explore this interesting dichotomy more. Maybe in late April?


Technorati Tags: Lafayette Louisiana - KRVS 88.7 - Blue Moon Saloon - Prejean's Restaurant - zydeco - Creole - Acadian - Cajun

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A Streetcar Named Desire

At the crack of dawn this Friday past, I headed down to New Orleans to Desire Street where my better half lives in a funky little neighborhood called the Bywater. Dr. Bob, Christopher Porché West and the Flavor League are some of the better known artists who, along with Second Line Clothing, have taken up residence in this old Creole neighborhood.

We've been painting the town in his decked out limo, which he has been adorning with Mardi Gras beads for something like six years now. The infamous Mardi Gras car is stopped regularly by onlookers who want photos, like Bass Goddess Greta from whose site I took this shot pictured above. Vblogger Miss B Havens also included a couple of good pics in her flickr Mardi Gras 2006 photoset.

One might think that riding around in a car like this would make the passenger a magnet for some unorthodox adventures, and they'd be right! Over the last three days I crashed a film crew Christmas party where I met a midget double for Brad Pitt, I was smoked out by a couple of community housing activists and tricked into eating alligator at a New Orleans staple, and I danced with a group of trannies in a second line down St. Claude Avenue. Only in New Orleans!

Technorati Tags: New Orleans - Bywater - Bywater Art Market - Jacqueimo's - second line parade - Creole

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American Underground #5

On Friday, December 15, Shrine for the Black Madonna returns to the concert stage for the first time in eight months. The gig is at Southpaw in Park Slope Brooklyn, and it's part of the American Underground Concert Series - meaning a full night of hip new music. Admission is $8. Come prepared for moving, grooving, and maximum lift-off.

American Underground #5:
Friday, December 15 @Southpaw8pm: DJ SPIRITHOOD of the Dustbin Brothers.
9pm: SANKOFA
10pm: FAITH
11pm: SHRINE FOR THE BLACK MADONNA
12mid: IFWHEN

Southpaw
125 Fifth Avenue (between Sterling + St. John's)
Park Slope, Brooklyn 11217
718-230-0236
2/3 to Bergen Street
4/5, Q or W to Atlantic Avenue
M or N/R to Union Street

Copyright 2004 Jose Ivey

All Rights Reserved

Technorati Tags: Shrine for the Black Madonna - black rock coalition - Brooklyn - afropunk

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Act One - Awakening

They say falling in love changes your life. However, I never expected it to change the world. A little over a year ago I met and fell madly in love with a New Orleans Creole. A near replica of my late mother in looks, he charmed me completely with his genteel manner, fun-loving spirit and dedication to Creole culture.

As he and his family began to accept me into the fold and share their traditions with me, I began to examine my own history – and lack thereof. What was so different about these people? Other French Creole friends of mine, New Orleanian and Haitian, also shared family bonds and traditions that were far more cohesive than my own. I suspected that it had something to do with the French connection and set out to find just what that thing was.

Frankly this connection didn’t surprise me so much, as France has enjoyed a kind of favored nation status within the African American arts community for its acceptance of our greatest artists when our own country did not. But the link between the French and Africans here in our own country I think is less well known.

One upside of Hurricane Katrina, if there could be one, was the reintroduction into the American mainstream of New Orleans’ unique centuries old tradition of race mixing. The inference of course is that plenty of miscegenation had been goin’ on, and not just of the white master raping the black slave variety that lurks unresolved in the imaginations of contemporary Americans, both black and white.

Creoles are a special bunch because they are heirs to an atypically enlightened view of interracial relationship that was squelched by the Louisiana Purchase and did not have a resurgence until after the Civil Rights Movement. If the French and the Africans could love each other under those circumstances, then maintaining familial unity over petty internecine rivalries must be a no brainer for their offspring.

I was about to leave it at that when I learned that the Spanish controlled Louisiana for a period of 40 years (1763 - 1803) before ceding it back to the French - who then sold it to the Brits (Americans) a year later in the Louisiana Purchase. Interestingly enough it was actually under Spanish rule that the gens de couleur libre grew from 3% to 20% of the total population of New Orleans. Turns out the French weren’t so damned special after all!

Why didn’t I remember any of this stuff from my US history classes? Intrigued, I decided that I would need to dig deeper. Maybe Virginia, where my family hails from, had more complex race relations during its pre Civil War period, too.









These series of posts are dedicated to the ‘finest woman in East Elmhurst’ of her day, my mother Kathlean Elizabeth Barnes. I am bold because she could not be.




Technorati Tags: New Orleans - Creoles - Hurricane Katrina - France - miscegenation - Haiti

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Do black folks know how to dance anymore?

For 8 years now I've been watching black NYC's under 40 set slide into a pathetic display of unoriginal groovin'. You know what I'm talking about...the part grind, part wave-your-hands-in-the-air, part two step? Sure our folks have still got rhythm, but they don't know what the hell to do with it anymore except to simulate sex on the dancefloor.

We used to be free, letting our bodies be conduits for sensuous rhythms and beats. There was a time when black folks used to get down! Sure sexuality was always a part of our movement, but nowadays seems like all we want to do is profile. A jiggle here, a little ass in the air there, and voilá a video ho is born.

I recognized this as a serious problem when I was out dancing several weeks ago at a local gay club and there was no deep house, no disco, no R&B even. There were no fabulous queens tearing up the floor. Almost all the boys were thugged out, "dancing" to the only music playing: hip hop. What is the world coming to when fags don't even break a sweat anymore?

My worst experience to date, however, had to be at a barbecue I attended over this past July 4 holiday weekend. Things started out well enough with an early evening music mix of classic R&B and disco jams. Sure we'd heard them all god knows how many times before, but the sounds of Chaka, Yarborough & Peoples and Teena Marie can and do always get a Brooklyn party started.

As darkness fell and the crowd began to really feel the liquor, the atmosphere changed. A group of husky Latinas headed toward the dance floor. Feeling those several Kettle One and tonics I myself had imbibed, I was right behind them. Just then the DJ changed up the flow and put on some popular hip hop songs. The wind came right out of my sails as I watched the women light up with glee. With absolutely no shame in their game they proceeded to switch and tick in front of the entire group of men, women and (young) children at the barbecue. Oh not THIS again! Girl don't you know that all that long hair does not make you Shakira?!!!

The lascivious glares of the party's intoxicated men quickly curdled the vodka in my belly. Sure I had dealt with a meat market before, but this time it was different. Two young black girls grinded among the portly women on the floor. Our table watched the men watching these little girls move, and the implications were disturbing. I finally got up from my chair and approached the two pre-teens.

"Girls, how old are you?" I asked.

"Thirteeen," replied one who was engrossed in a handheld videogame. The other piped up, "twelve." Jesus these girls were young! Where the hell were their mothers? Weren't they peepin' how these nasty men were checking out their adolescent daughters' moves?

"Well ladies," I continued, "I think you are really great dancers, but you should be careful about the kind of attention you could be attracting with those sexy moves." The girl with the handheld pretended to ignore me as she took in my admonition, while the other focused intently. "I just want you two to be careful. Take it from me...I have been in situations before where I aroused interest from people I did not want to be interested. Although you may think you want it, you really don't want that kind of attention just yet. Leave that to the grown folks. Y'know what I'm sayin?"

"You mean grown folks like you?" asked the 12 year-old. The vidiot turned up from her handheld to catch my response.

"Well, I may be grown but I still don't want that kind of attention," I gestured over to three drunken men sitting along the edge of the dance area. I turned back to eye the pair's response and they nodded in agreement with me. Satisfied that I had made my point, I retreated back to my seat. The two young girls continued to dance - albeit in a more age appropriate manner. Finally the 12 year-old scampered off the floor. I felt relieved. Just then the vidiot wrapped her arms around one of the most egregious offenders on the floor.

"Hey mama, are we going home soon?" she asked the woman.

"In a little while baby," she replied, "I'm still getting my groove on!"

My friend leaned in close to me and said, "and now you know why them girls are like that, huh?" I turned to look at her and she shook her head in disapproval. "There ain't nothin you can do about it when her own mother's like that." I turned back to catch the young vidiot switchin and tickin right along side her mother, as a tall, boozy brotha sandwiched between them.

Technorati Tags: Soul Train - Brooklyn - R&B

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Engulfed by Katrina: Photographs Before And After The Storm

Curated by Deborah Willis Ph.D. and Hank Willis Thomas

Artists: Marc Asnin * Harold Baquet * Nathan Bassuouni * Charlene Braud * Keith Calhoun * Gerald Cyrus D. Michael Cheers * Cheryl Finley * Vangy Franklin * Russell Frederick * Delphine Fawundu-Buford Lonnie Graham * Wyatt Gallery * William Greiner * Jessica Ingram * Chester Higgins Jr. * Eric Julien Melvina Lathan * Chandra McCormick * John Pinderhuges * Joe Rodriguez * Benjamin Orion Rush * Sophia Schechner * Will Steacey * Frank Stewart * Eric Waters * Lewis Watts * Carla Williams Clarence Williams * Nathaniel Ward

On View: June 15 – September 22, 2006

Opening Reception: June 29, 2006, 6-9pm

The Nathan Cummings Foundation
475 Tenth Avenue (14th Floor) Between 36th & 37th Streets
New York, NY 10018
RSVP – (646) 485-1284
For private viewing please contact Karen Garrett (212) 787-7300, ext.206.

This exhibition project examines and interprets the experience of Katrina on the Gulf Coast. Featuring more than 80 photographs, this thematic exhibition will explore the devastation of cities within the Gulf Coast, as well as life before and after the storm. The focus of the show is to fulfill the promise made by everyone almost immediately after the event which was to not let the impact of this horrific experience be forgotten. The exhibition will invite viewers to recall their own experiences of watching the events unfold on television, and attempt to counter the complacency that has already set in the aftermath of this on-going tragedy and to "re-member" images of the city.

Technorati Tags: Hurricane Katrina - photography

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Danny Simmons Corridor Gallery presents:

Technorati Tags: Danny Simmons - hip hop - graffiti art - Brooklyn

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The African Game

When you see more and more folks rockin' those neon yellow Brazil t-shirts, you know that World Cup fever is in the air! I admit that like most Americans I was only nominally interested, until last week when Ghana put the smack down on Czech Republic. Did he really score that goal in just over a minute into the game? Damn!

Those with real love in their hearts do a far better job than me at sharing why football (ahem...soccer) is such a kick-ass sport - no pun intended. There is of course the classic autobiography Pele, My Life and the Beautiful Game by the Afro-Brazilian legend. But there are two more recent additions that look like a good read regardless of one's level of interest in the sport itself. Franklin Foer of New Republic fame penned How Soccer Explains the World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization, which blends his lifelong love for the sport with his career interest in international politics.

The second, The African Game, is a book of photography and essays that delves into contemporary life in the continent using football (ahem...soccer) as a medium. Nigerian-born filmmaker/photgrapher Andrew Dosunmu and Brooklyn-based writer Knox Robinson collaborate to bring much-needed, modern stories of African people to life. An exhibit of Dosunmu's work is coming up on June 22 at Brooklyn's Rotunda Gallery.

Technorati Tags: soccer - Andrew Dosunmu - Knox Robinson - The African Game - Brooklyn

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Hot Fun in the City

For Brooklynites and other city dwellers in the know, the annual Dance Africa Festival at Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) is the unofficial kick-off to the summer. With movies, music, street fair and dance performances, this Memorial Day weekend event is a 4-day smorgasbord of culture from around the Diaspora.

As I walked the fair with my buddy George who was in town for a few weeks, I saw folks I hadn't seen, well, since last year's festival. We exchanged hellos while we chowed down on a coupla corns on the cob before making our way into the Saturday nite dance performance.

And my how it was spectacular! Baba Chuck Davis started off the festivites with his usual respectful dedication to those who had passed on to the ancestral realm. An elder was escorted to the customary spot on the stage where performers could offer up dance in his honor. (And as usual this all took too long!)

The Peruvian dancers Peru Negro were the final act, and they were wonderful. But I had been dazzled by the group who performed just before intermission, the Universal African Dance & Drum Essemble. Stilt dancers, an all female drumming troupe (spectacular in its own right as I have rarely seen a female African drummer much less a whole troupe!), "afrobats" and children no older than 4 or 5 years of age took over the stage in a whirlwind of motion. It is hard to describe the feeling that came over me while watching, the sense of kinship. It stirred something in my core, something rooted deep in the familiar. I was proud to see so many black people unapologetically taking part in an expression of their own cultural heritage.

Watching the young children on stage reminded me of the performances I had just seen at the New Orleans Jazzfest a month back. The Creole Wild West Mardi Gras Indians, too, had their tiny young children singing along on stage. And Sunpie Barnes (hmm that's my family name...) of Sunpie & the Louisiana Sunspots had his young son playing along on the accordian to their funky Afro-Caribbean inspired zydeco tunes. The children looked so free and natural and happy playing up there with their parents. I knew those kids, both here in Bklyn and there in NOLA, would have no doubt who they were when they grew up. In what seems like the endless sea of bad news we have to deal with about the possibilities for our children's future, watching them I felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I'm feeling overwhelmed by the rat race and wondering why the hell I live in this overcrowded, overdeveloped city I remember Dance Africa, and all the wonderful cultural events in store for the next three months. There is nothing like summer in New York City.

Central Park Summerstage

Celebrate Brooklyn at Prospect Park

World Financial Center concerts

City Parks Foundation concerts

Wingate Park concerts

Asser Levy Park seaside concerts

Charlie Parker Jazz Festival

Brooklyn Museum 1st Saturdays

"NYC For Free"


Technorati Tags: BAM - Dance Africa - New Orleans Jazzfest - Brooklyn Museum

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Life Drawing Classes: Sundays in Downtown Brooklyn

Brooklyn jewelry designer Masani Mulraine hosts life drawing art classes at her Fort Greene studio every Sunday from 1 - 3 p.m. Masani is a Pratt Institute graudate who has distributed her work to various retail stores and boutiques including Canal Jeans Co., Charivari, Knapps, Pieces and Redberri. Her jewelry is featured in the June 2006 edition of Essence Magazine.

Light refreshments served. Classes are $20, materials (drawing pad, paints, ink, etc) not included. Seating is limited to 10 people per class. For more information or to RSVP, please email masanidesigns@aol.com.

G train to Clinton-Washington or C train to Lafeyette Ave.


Essence June 2006, p. 151
necklace by
Masani Wearable Scupltures



Technorati Tags: Masani Wearable Sculptures - Brooklyn - Essence Magazine

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Brooklyn Photo Exhibit: Images from PK NOLA

Harriet's Alter Ego is pleased to present…

Muddy Water Gumbo & High Tide Blues
Images from New Orleans, Post-Katrina

A Photography Exhibit by Award-Winning Photojournalist Delphine Fawundu-Buford

Opening Reception & Artist Talk
Sunday, June 4, 2006, 4-7pm

Exhibition Dates: June 4 - 30, 2006
Harriet's Alter Ego Boutique & Gallery
293 Flatbush Ave. bet. St. Marks & Prospect Place
Brooklyn, New York
2, 3, 4, 5, Q, B, N, R, D to Atlantic Avenue

For more info: 718-783-2074 or Harriet's Alter Ego

Photographer Delphine A. Fawundu-Buford latest series is a collection of riveting images of the Big Easy, post-Katrina. Muddy Water Gumbo & High Tide Blues is a photo-essay created during her 2006 trip to New Orleans as a NABJ Gulf Coast Fellow. A large part of her mission was to document the lives of the everyday people who were affected by Katrina. The images largely excerpt Crescent City and its inner communities that have been ravaged by Katrina with emphasis on the 9th Ward. Muddy Water Gumbo & High Tide Blues consists of five smaller series "The 9th Ward Remains," "Blues Soldiers" "2nd Line" "Infatuation with Mammy?" and "We Still Here."

"As I photographed these remains, it felt as if I were at an archaeological dig," Delphine explains of "The 9th Ward Remains" series, "getting a more personal perspective of everyday people who lived in the 9th Ward, some who listened to music, read books, wore under-wired bras, used silver metal forks, and earned degrees just like me."

Delphine has gained wide recognition from her image "Patiently Waiting," which graced the cover of the catalog for the memorable 'Committed to the Image: Contemporary Black Photographers' exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum of Art in 2000. Her career that spans over a decade includes publications such as Black: A Celebration of a Culture and Reflections in Black: A History of Black Photographers from 1840 - Present by Deborah Willis. Some of her editorial credits include RollingStone, Essence, Honey and Vibe. Delphine has exhibited locally and nationally and has participated in critically acclaimed exhibitions 'Only Skin Deep' at the International Center of Photography and 'Open: Artist Working in Brooklyn' at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Her works are in the private collections of Danny Simmons (NYC), The Brooklyn Museum of Art, and the New York Coalition of Creative Art Therapies just to name a few.


Technorati Tags: Hurricane Katrina - Brooklyn - Delphine Fawunda-Buford

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