New Year's Eve in New Orleans
The Saints are in the Play Offs! The players are requested Popeye's fried chicken on the flight to the game. Superstitions abide in this city where we mix our Catholicism with gris gris. Marie Laveau's grave just got a coat of pink paint for the new year. All things must be kept in proper perspective.
King Cakes are out at the neighborhood Rouse's Grocery Store; King's day is not until January 6th. We put out the King's cake for those travelers who are returning to places where there are no such things. WE are all King's in search of some great majestic force. Some find it in the guise of religious celebrations, other find in in honoring traditions both of the spiritual nature and the carnal nature.
A few neighbors have already put their Christmas trees out on the curb, our tree is still lite and celebratory! It is only the 6th day of Christmas. The season has just begun. The wise men have not even visited yet.
Some of us keep the tree up and decorate it in purple, green and gold. These are the colors of Mardi Gras and represent gifts, too. Purple stands for justice, green for faith, and gold for power. Very similar to the gifts brought by the Magi. The Christmas green and red is replaced with the tri-colors brought by the King of Rex.
We invite all to come to New Orleans for the carnival.
http://shop.rouses.com/p-14-king-cake-parade-package.aspx
http://www.voodoomuseum.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=33
These mini observations are like Will Rogers finding his humor in the newspapers and the people who govern us. These observations are based upon the real people I see in our wonderful city, New Orleans. “Everything is funny as long as it is happening to someone else.” ― Will Rogers
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Fleur de Bris Signs of Recovery
Fleur-de-Bris the Signs of Continued Recovery in New Orleans
By Rosalynn Moore
Blanche Debris, roast beef debris,
and now Fleur-de-bris: All are gifts from the Crescent City. Blanche Debris is
the name of a French Quarter character who reigns over the Mardi Gras Day
Costume Review. Roast Beef debris is the name allotted to a very sloppy poor
boy sandwich which is only as good as the amount of au juice that drips down your
arms while eating. Fleur-de-Bris is the name, according to Heather Mattingly
that she assigned to her debris encrusted flowers.
Revisiting New Orleans in June left
me with the impression that Debris Art is massaging a wounded city. Several
debris artists are displaying their healing processes using nuts, bolts, bottle
caps, broken glass, shells, and imagination!
Annie Lennox’s song “Walking on
Broken Glass” could certainly be the theme song of “Trina”, one artist who
moved back to Gentilly in Eastern New Orleans after a St. Louis evacuation. While
in Missouri,
Trina became focused on stained glass art.
She reported that when she returned to her beloved hometown, “Windows
were everywhere;…. me and my son, Max, were scavengers.” Like the crabs of South Louisiana, these scavengers make found objects
homey, welcoming, beautiful, and hopeful.
The photo above is a window by Trina, into the chaos that blew ashore:
hinges, film negatives, and a door knocker, all are embedded signs of recovery.
|
In a second piece by “Trina”,
broken vases are implanted to recreate “Eve’s” face. Like so many of the Gulf Coast
survivors, Eve is resurrected from the shards of rediscovered treasures. Trina
reports that individuals have brought to her relics from their homes to
incorporate into memorial glass patchworks. These renderings resemble colorful
band aids lovingly placed over wounds.
|
I viewed “Fleur
des Bris” wall hangings collaged from watches, plastic beads, bottle caps, and
screws attached to wooden cut outs created by Heather Mattingly and Kerry
Fitts. Heather is a carpenter by day and an artist by night who says that she
misses her family. She believes that her
parents and two special needs siblings are better provided for in a
non-recovering city. Her miniature shotgun relics are as colorful and numerous
as the originals. I imagine that a busy post-Katrina carpenter feels the pulse
of these old homes. Her mini-homes each hold a fleur-de-bris memory. Perhaps
they, too, wonder if their former glory will be reclaimed from the ruins.
These signature flowers are
bouquets of strength in New Orleans. Artists
are expressing their grief and recovery as they explore the fringes of the
devastation for tidbits of their former lives from which they create new
offerings. The resulting images resemble the Mayan Sastun, a stone of light, flashing
brilliantly as these artists apply their craft like the ancient healers, who
also relied solely upon native materials to produce their healing balms.
I purchased a tiny key which hangs
from a mother-of-pearl belt buckle. The flat three- notched key looks like one
that would open a small precious chest. The key has a tiny silver fleur de lies
attached on a loop. This whole group is tied together with a piece of white
lace ribbon. I wear this as an amulet around my neck on a thin piece of leather
that I tie up in the back. I feel like my heart is protected and held safely in
place behind my amulet. Kerry Fitts has several of these necklaces for sale in
the Magazine Metal Shop at 2036 Magazine St.
Across the
street at 2127 Magazine St., Ruth Marie Wright, who has her before-and
after-Katrina self portraits hanging near one another, shows a happy
pre-Katrina face and a self strangulation post Katrina death grip. Joan Trenor,
the owner of the Cameron Jones Shop, says that the artist’s latest work shows a
happier side with more of the joie de vivre that was illustrated before the
storm. Ruth says, “My painting is my salvation.” Ruth Marie’s left hand is no
longer wrapped around her neck in a self-strangulating hold, but those hands
are stretching her mouth with her fingers into a huge grin with her tongue
sticking out between her lips in a raspberry-like fashion. Her newest work has
four women drinking and playing cards, and like the art her luck is improving,
too. After moving around for three years, she now has a home near Lafayette,
LA. The return of humor and a roof over
the head of her head and the head of her 50 year old disabled daughter, Andy,
are certainly signs of healing.
On another wall in the gallery there
hangs a humorous dream catcher of sorts. “The Bone Woman,” the only moniker of
a female artist has a soft sculpture weaving a crab shell, feathers, and broken
boards from her post-Katrina home. She annotates the work with a hand-inscribed
title: “Keep on Laughin’ and Da Whol’ World Smiles wit’ You.” Blessed be, Bone
Woman. Joan says that The Bone Woman could certainly benefit from the sale of
her art. Like for so many artists in New Orleans, the need for cash is a given.
Returning to lost and destroyed edifices is such an overwhelming tasks, it
could zap Mother Teresa’s energy. How these artists have recovered is a
testament to their resiliency. They
represent the side of a city that history has bought and sold, one into which
the Mississippi River, Lake Pontchartrain, and the Gulf of Mexico waters have
poured trillions of tons of debris. Enough is dredged and washed ashore for
thousands of art works.
Debris from this mighty river is
used by its citizens to create levees, make a category 5 coffee with chicory,
and wash its dirty laundry. What it
washes down is used to make furniture, frame art, and create a molten river
brown that only flood waters dare generate.
Heralded and sung about for
generations, the river stills rolls along, and so do the artists who have the
rich visions to make beauty from so unique a spot on our planet. This richness
has been evolving for centuries and will continue to flow; lucky those of us
who have the opportunity to see the many beautiful gifts that wash up onto our
shores and who display the works for others to see. To end on a musical note, a
sound track if you please, listen to Annie Lennox’s “Into the West,” from The Lord of the Rings. Like the power that must be returned to its
source, these artists desire to rise again out of the broken glass and
shattered dreams and to exemplify to the world the healing power wrenched out
of their Post-Katrina debris lives.
* Unfortunately, these galleries did not continue. They have been replaced by other types of shops.
* Unfortunately, these galleries did not continue. They have been replaced by other types of shops.
Debris: Art and
Artists 2008
Anchors to others
Wings to artist…
Dredged and washed ashore;
Debris from Katrina
Become feathers,
Strom churned energy,
“Kicked up a notch”.
Replacing the sour with the freshly
Enriched soil and soul fertilizer;
Mother Earth’s reclaiming her children;
Giving “new eyes” to see
Rust encrusted debris,
Turned focal points,
“Found” objects of art.
Rosalynn Moore
July 13, 2008
Saturday, December 21, 2013
While sitting in John Bech's French inspired restaurant last night I could not help remembering a trip to Provence that Bobby, my husband, and I took in 2002. Bobby and I dined in a warm and rich atmosphere similar to the delights that we experienced in Provence many years ago. This trip required an hours drive across Lake Pontchatrain rather than a trip across the Atlantic. A highlight to this trip, that we did not have in France, was the conversations with both the chef Erik Loos and John Besh. They separately visited with each of the many guests.
I began my epicurean experience with the pumpkin cocktail. A combination of Buffalo Whiskey served in a sugary trimmed martini glass. Josh, the bartender, even wrote and delivered to our table, the recipe for the caramel simple syrup that added the sweetness that I enjoy in a beverage.
Ashley, our server, who used to work at Galatoire's Restaurant encouraged our exploration of the menu. The beet and smoked shrimp salad that I devoured was enriched by the lovely pate that sat on out table with crispy French toast points. Ordering the snapper with turnips was a leap of faith on my part.
My eyes lite up when my entree arrived. My plate looked like an under water scene from the "Little Mermaid." The green turnips were stacked into two little columns and surrounded by white 1/4 inch cubes of the turnip root. This creation was wedged between a lovely piece of scored fish and a pallet of red wine matelote sauce. There were tiny sprigs of garnish that resembled beautiful coral fans added to my underwater scene. To my delight there were gruyere malfati balls to kick up the flavor. This dish was as delicious as it was creative and playful.
Bobby had the quail gumbo which had the rice hidden in the quail stuffing. Yet another creative variation on the rich and flavorful local tradition. His sheephead fish came assembled with jumbo lump crabmeat, mushrooms, and brown butter hollandaise. We relished these gifts from the seas.
To end our charming evening we shared the Meyer Lemon Curd Tart with Italian meringue and preserved blackberry ice cream! A lovely combination. We sang Christmas songs as we crossed the foggy lake. Another wonderful food adventure in the city that makes eating such a gift.
Thank you John Besh for your vision and your selection of chefs.
http://www.laprovencerestaurant.com/restaurant-bar.html
Thursday, December 19, 2013
"Will Ryman built a walk-in wood structure, coated in gold resin and packed with ideas about American history. He also packed the cabin with things that shaped our history: bullets, arrowheads, cotton bolls, chains, sparkplugs, iPhones, lumps of coal, and much, much more."
http://www.nola.com/arts/index.ssf/2013/10/star_sculptor_will_ryman_sets.html
Having third grade students close their eyes before entering the sculpture caught 6 little girls by surprise. They had guest before entering the sculpture that it might be Santa's house. They marveled, as do most visitors to this intriguing piece of Americana, at the diversity of objects used to complete the interior of the cabin.
This representation of America has many of the students spreading the word. "You must see the cabin." They whisper to one another as they pass other touring groups.
I encourage all to see for yourselves what Mr. Ryman has created.
Ask yourself why you are standing on the chains on the floor of the gold gilded log cabin?
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Awaiting the renewal of light into our world again. New Orleans has been given the title of one of the cities in the world where renewal and resilience abound. It is appropriate at this time of the year to focus on the spiritual rekindling of our city.
This cultural oasis invites the creative, slightly
imbalanced to walk, create, and play among us. We welcome those who see the world through different lenses. We enjoy the askew views and challenging perspectives.
The music, food, and dance of our souls invites you to partake in the resurrection of this city, these people, the cultural renewal and awaking of our New Orleans.
This cultural oasis invites the creative, slightly
imbalanced to walk, create, and play among us. We welcome those who see the world through different lenses. We enjoy the askew views and challenging perspectives.
The music, food, and dance of our souls invites you to partake in the resurrection of this city, these people, the cultural renewal and awaking of our New Orleans.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Lin Emery at NOMA
Walk up the grand marble staircase to the second floor of the museum and turn to your right and cross into the newer building and turn left. There's a treasure trove of Lin Emery's sculptures on exhibit. Movement, sound, and polished aluminum whirl around the white walls flashing reflected light from these kinetic works.
I watch with delight as we bring students into this space. There is a moment of silence while they take in the space. One of the boys that toured last week said that he saw people and that we are all "connected."
I believe that the artist would have smiled had she been observing others observing her work.
While the docents were learning about this body of work, I sat underneath "Cumulus." The gentle rhythm and movement bounced the light all around me. I could even see myself in the work. Perhaps this is what our young guest saw. We observe and are brought into the sculpture. It's movements encircle us and draws us into the dance.
Please come and sit with Lin Emery's works for awhile. You may feel the connections, too.
The exhibit runs through January 12, 22014.
http://arthurrogergallery.com/artists/lin-emery/
http://arthurrogergallery.com/artists/lin-emery/
http://linemery.com/
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Moses, Too Ugly to Prostitute
I met Moses on the corner of Elysian Fields and Clairborne Avenues. (There is so much symbolism here, that I'll save that for an entry onto itself.)
He was holding a sign that read," Too Ugly to Prostitute." This corner is always frequented by the lost children asking for a hand-out. I have always been partial to these folks ever since my once very rich uncle became a street person. I had but one single dollar left in my wallet which I gladly handed over to Moses, because "you made me laugh."
That's what I told him. How typically New Orleans when the street children are using humor to implore our help. I remember two street people on M Street in Georgetown, VA. four Christmastides ago. They were one block apart on a busy shopping day, each had cups in their hands. One was smiling, the other was very somber. I gave to the smiling man. I know that this sounds rather snobbish of me, but something in me said that was how I was to respond. I reinforced the smiling homeless man wrapped in his blanket on that very cold December day, because he made me smile.
Ironic isn't it. I am supposed to make him smile with my donation. I worked with some students at the Center for Jesus on Rampart Street years ago. We were preparing a meal for the homeless men and women there. I will never forget how a homeless man, who had his seizure medication confiscated by the police, was ministering to us! Here he was, with the potential to seize at any moment, telling us how wonderful God was.
I will leave the conclusions for you, dear readers to draw.
Peace,
Rosalynn
Monday, December 2, 2013
An Advent Reflection
Angst and anger
stuff right and left.
My brain brims
UN ABle to create.
Fear and anxiety
CREEP into all of
the crevices.
Oh, Heart,
Beat LOUDly
Over power the
noise in my head;
Making room for Jesus
New life and hope
"Seek and yea shall find,"
A tiny speck of space...
Let the LIGHTS shine in;
Pin hole size at first,
Because I am unaccustomed
Yeah, uncomfortable..
Keep prying, pealing,
Surely the space will
O P E N
Surround the sorrow
With healing light...
THere it is:
Hope, beauty, love, peace and
Joy...
It's been there, all the while,
Waiting for me to exhale:
The oxygen rushes in
Sparking the DNA and creation.
Angst and anger
stuff right and left.
My brain brims
UN ABle to create.
Fear and anxiety
CREEP into all of
the crevices.
Oh, Heart,
Beat LOUDly
Over power the
noise in my head;
Making room for Jesus
New life and hope
"Seek and yea shall find,"
A tiny speck of space...
Let the LIGHTS shine in;
Pin hole size at first,
Because I am unaccustomed
Yeah, uncomfortable..
Keep prying, pealing,
Surely the space will
O P E N
Surround the sorrow
With healing light...
THere it is:
Hope, beauty, love, peace and
Joy...
It's been there, all the while,
Waiting for me to exhale:
The oxygen rushes in
Sparking the DNA and creation.
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