Emerge into the sunlight from the depths of Penn Station to the hustle and bustle of NYC. A fifteen minute walk up Seventh Avenue through Times Square to W46th Street, a tiny window into the city at work and play... the avenues are long concrete and glass canyons stretched out to the vanishing point, taxis, buses, and cars whiz and honk, pedestrians obey the walk signs - not to would invite a calamity.
Photos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
Palm Beach Shores
April 17, 2012
If it fits, we ship. There she was. My mom. In that 4x6x2 inch US Post Office carton. Most of the rest of her ashes are interred next to my dad’s grave in Pittsfield, MA.
Way back before she died in 2005, she began telling me how she wanted her burial and funeral arrangements to go. A pillow in her den read, “I’m not pushy, I just have better ideas.” You get the point.
Outside in the real world, I was a successful teacher, respected by colleagues and parents in the community, an honest to goodness adult.
But every time I walked into the door of 15 Coltland Drive, I became an adult son, emphasis on the son part. You do what your mother tells you. I swear, some days I felt like I was standing in the kitchen in short pants with a bag of marbles in my pocket. So, when she told me she wanted to be cremated, did not want a wake, and did want me to throw a party for her after her funeral, that’s exactly what I did.
‘I want some of my ashes to go in the plot with your father,” She also said, “I want to wear a hot red dress for the cremation.”
“And I’d like to have some ashes scattered down at Palm Beach Shores at the Lake Worth Inlet.” I hunted around the house and found a pretty Japanese vase, a wedding present that had sat in the living room ever since I could remember.
“Perfect,” she said. I felt like I’d earned a gold star. The sense of approval from a parent never gets old.
Elena had spent a couple of months in Palm Beach Shores (Singer Island) every winter after she and my dad bought a condominium there in the 1970s. My dad, my mom’s sister and her husband, and my sister and her two young sons were in the annual rotation from January through March.
Elena was a regular at the pool, played cards with the ladies, and strolled around the beach. Late in the afternoon, her favorite jaunt was to head a half mile down to the Lake Worth Inlet, a deep-water canal for cargo and pleasure vessels bound to and from West Palm Beach. Over time, benches were built along a stretch of the inlet. Tourists, condo owners, and local fisherman would banter or just sit to watch the endlessly changing seascape
“Going there when my brother and I had school vacations is one of my biggest memories from when I was little,” says my elder nephew Chris. “I remember Poppi putting the bait on my fishing poles in the first years we went, and after that even Nonni did it for me. We used to fish way out by the abandoned water tower at the end of the jetty.”
A robust tidal current was always running. The water was that impossible Florida blue, the kind New Englanders dream about when they’re shoveling a foot of snow in January. Today, I wasn’t shoveling snow. I was keeping a promise. I was about to scatter Elena’s ashes into the canal.
The next day, the page would be turned on the condo at Mayan Towers North. My nephews had resisted selling the small unit and I can’t blame them. When one of your fondest memories is being bundled up to fly down to Florida and spend time with doting grandparents who take you everywhere and show you off like prizes, it’s hard to let go.
I found a gold rimmed bowl in the condo, poured Elena’s ashes into it and smiled. She would have loved the synchronicity, another piece of her china used to hold her ashes. I’m not sure how she’d feel about the can of cold Bud Light I brought along to seal the deal, champagne was more her style for an occasion. But I had no doubt she'd agree that a libation was part of the ceremony.
It took me an hour to work up the resolve to fling her into the onshore breeze. At 7:30 PM, the sun about to settle into the horizon, I timed the swells rolling down the inlet, saw one particularly determined one about to crest in front of me and flung Elena’s ashes from the delicate bowl. The fresh breeze held the powdery remains in a glorious translucent gray cloud that trailed along the inlet, the heavier particles spilling into the water at my feet.
Floating along in the dissipating cloud came the memory of my mom singing to me when I was little until I fell asleep.
I loved to watch trains of all kinds with my grandfather, who often took me to the train depot at the edge of town to watch what he called “the roundhouse,” a huge lazy-susan arrangement that would turn the locomotives around to send them down a different track. Sort of like the track I was sending my mother along with right now.
I was fascinated watching endlessly long processions of coal cars, ice cars, gondolas, tank cars, low riders packed with iron, cattle cars, boxcars in a metallic rainbow of colors, each bearing the symbol or lettering of companies from distant states that made me think of the wild west, and those funny looking cabooses and the grizzled men in railroad hats standing on the rear deck, who would, if I had a great stroke of luck, wave to me and my grandfather (Elena’s father), as we watched them from the hillside above the depot.
Elena knew these images ruled the rails of my imagination. After she tucked me into bed, she would sit beside me in the dark and make up songs about the colorful procession of freight cars…I could hear her softly singing those songs to me as her cloud vanished into the wind.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Postscript
When your mother tells you to scatter her ashes and make a party of it, you do what she says.
Festival International de Louisiane
Lafayette, Louisiana
Sunday Bands April 29, 2012
Canailles (Quebec- Québec Roots), Scene Malibu, Fais Do Do Stage
I didn’t think I could be surprised by anything after hearing the Middle East band Lamajamal and the Slavic Soul Party on Saturday but in the midst of the 1:30 PM Canaille show one of the guys yodels ("J'l'hais" from http://www.myspace.com/bellescanailles)! When they patter with the audience, their English has a heavy Quebecois accent and inventive syntax. Canaille means "scoundrel" in French and these kids fit the bill with their ragtag blend of country blues cajun and a big shot of garage rock played with guitars, accordion, banjo, standup bass, percussion, washboards and at least one kazoo!).
Most of their songs are originals.The girl lead singer has great pipes, has one style that sounds like Grace Slick who swallowed sandpaper ("Becik" http://www.myspace.com/bellescanailles). The eight musicians (self-taught no less, which may account for their eccentric style) began jamming together by chance in a Montreal park in 2009. Their set still has the feel of spontaneity. The music is raw, full of twenty something energy, feels like it could fly off the rails at any time and they'd laugh at the result.
Canaille VIDEO
Savoy Family Cajun Band (Louisiana- Traditional Cajun), Scene TV5 Monde Lafayette Stage
The Savoy Family Band - what a pile of talent on one stage. Marc and Ann Savoy should donate their DNA to the Smithsonian - their sons Wilson on keyboard and fiddle and Joel on fiddle are immensely talented as are Marc on accordion (he builds them), Ann on guitar. Red Stick Rambler drummer Drew Simon is on percussion today. This is one of the royal families of Cajun music.
Marc's "Savoy Music Center" in nearby Eunice is considered holy ground by visitors from all over the planet. The brothers Wilson and Joel got into great fiddle duels that had Marc, usually pretty phlegmatic, whoop once or twice. This is the best kind of sibling rivalry. Listening to any of them tell anecdotes about a song they're about to sing is a treat. What's in store might be an old ballad they breathe new life into or a barn burner of a two step.
VIDEO
Dancing to the Savoy Family Band
The Savoy Family Band on stage
Chico Trujillo. (Chile – Cumbia/Punk/Ska/Chilean Folk), Scene Popeye International Stage
Today Chico Trujillo is working their magic at the biggest stage in town, Parc International, a permanent stage with a ton of paved space in front for people to dance and set up their camp chairs. Music and dancing happens so often around here that the city fathers and mothers realized it needed a public space in the middle of town to accommodate it.
Today's music, like Friday night's, has a distinctive Latin flavor and the crowd is eating it up. The instrumental mix of trumpet, trombone, saxophones, drums, accordion, guitars, is a great platform for the singing. It may be in Spanish but scores of spectators have no trouble interpreting it in to dance moves. Judging by the size of the crowd, Chico Trujillo became a crowd favorite this weekend.Dancing to the Savoy Family Band
VIDEO: CHICO TRUJILLO
LeroyThomas and The Zydeco Roadrunners (Louisiana-Zydeco), Scene Chevron Heritage Stage
Five Louisiana acts perform at various stages today, the last day of the festival. Bands like the Savoy Family Band (Cajun), Andre Thierry (Zydeco), and Leroy Thomas (Zydeco) play for large crowds. The University of Louisiana/Lafayette Jazz Combo and the Destination Gospel Choir make happy music, too. Toward the end of Leroy Thomas's set, the last of the festival, Leroy steps up to the mic. Leroy's cousins are zydeco band leaders Geno Delafose and Keith Frank.
"I want to introduce one of the last living legends of zydeco. Along with Buckwheat Zydeco, my father, Leo "The Bull" Thomas are a couple of the only ones left."
Leo makes a statement standing still. His performance suits are electric pinks, royal blazing blues, and percussive purples and I mean from hat to shoes. So when Leo gets into his hit song, "Why You Gonna Make Me Cry?" dancers grab partners and dance anywhere they find room. He's earned his status as a living legend.
The Festival International de Louisiane was selected as Best World Music Festival in the 2012 About.com WorldMusic Reader's Choice Awards. The average attendance over the five day festival is 350,000. The fact that the festival is free, supported by the sale of festival pins and merchandise, and honors the region's Francophone roots, is a matter of great local pride. Spend just one afternoon or evening there and you'll feel it.
Photos and Videos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
Saturday April 28, 2012
Lafayette, Louisiana
If you wanted to shop till you drop while you weren't enjoying world class music, the Festival International de Louisiane obliged. Vendor space in both market areas was sold out.
The Marché des Arts featured arts and crafts chiefly from Louisiana: jewelry, sculpture, woodwork, photography, ceramics, original paintings and more.
The Marché du Monde featured African folk art, instruments and clothing; banana leaf art, baskets, seagrass hats, handbags, hammocks, purses, paintings, tapestries, dresses and a wild range of women's clothing and more.
Saturday afternoon, sunny, temps in the eighties, the vendor area was crawling with shoppers. I'm not sure how much they bought, but they were looking real hard.
Photos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Lafayette, Louisiana
By 3 PM, you can probably see Lafayette from the space shuttle.
Lafayette's population is a shade above 120,000. There's a fair chance most of them are crammed into the heart of the city (above) and the spectator areas in front of the four major performance stages within a half mile of each other. Walking down Jefferson Boulevard the only difference from feeling like you're packed into a sardine can is that you're moving… sort of, in a crab-like sideways, forward, stop, shuffle, step, step, stop dance like a giant amoeba high on Bud Light.
You could probably extrapolate the socio-racial-economic profile of Lafayette by observing the shoulder to shoulder crowd. It looks like any midsize city's range of teens just emerging from the chrysalis of childhood to couples and families of every demographic on the city's census form.
After a few minutes, you realize the island of empty space over the shoulders of the people ahead of you contains someone in a wheelchair, or a stroller, or a little red cart with a two or three little kids in tow.
There are absolutely no rules of the road - just put one foot in front of the other and smile. What's the rush? This is one huge block party. If you’re jostled, more than likely you’ll hear a “sorry” or “excuse me”. If you’re claustrophobic, it won''t be pretty.
++++++++++++++
People everywhere...
in coveted areas in the shade ...
no matter where it was found...
on the sidewalk...
buying a party hat or figuring out which band to visit next...
hanging out with giants...
or with friends.
Saturday April 28, 2012
Lafayette, Louisiana
Red Stick Ramblers, ( Louisiana- Swing/Cajun), Scene Malibu Fais Do Do Stage
...with their rambunctious ways, these are the wise guys of the Festival - irreverent, witty, recklessly spontaneous. There's no telling what any of them will say on stage. The RSR''s music has a rollicking sensibility charged with the power of a crawfish boat that's scooped up every musical influence on their prairies - cajun, creole, even swing - and plays it out with their assortment of fiddle, guitars, banjo, drums, bass, and accordion.These guys began playing at LSU in Baton Rouge in the late 1990s. They throw a stick of dynamite into roots and country swing music and draw crowds wherever they play.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnReIxupwOs&list=UUpO59RlFb0TWCXQLKYfisdA&index=2&feature=plcp
Vishten (Prince Edward Island, Magdalen Islands-Traditional Acadian), TV 5 stage Lafayette Stage
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FexsC0aeD8
Pastelle LeBlanc on accordion, her sister Emmanuelle LeBlanc on keyboard and Irish hand held drum (Bodhran), and Pascal Miousse on fiddle and guitar, play rural traditional Acadian music, all the way from Prince Edward Island and the Magdalen Islands in way east of Canada. Pastelle and Emmanuelle make a mighty, clattering, pulsing beat by rhythmically pounding their feet on the black trunks at their feet. Influences from France, Ireland, Scotland drive the music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUeR0OZ5QUc
Once again people are on their feet dancing. The dances are jigs that require anything from simple stamping to complicated foot flying footwork in pretty much the same place, not partner dancing, but like Cajun or zydeco can go on for round after infectious round until the fiddler or the dancers are wringing wet with sweat and worries shooed out the door.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql0e8EXhFtU
Pascal vigorously bows his fiddle, the more animated the crowd, gets the more feverishly the band plays. No surprise, people figure out some way to express themselves in dance, mothers with kids in their arms, and twenty-somethings who probably got jiggled around in utero as their mother’s danced well into their terms.
Mercy Brothers, ( Louisiana – Gospel/Hillbilly/ Blues), Scene Chevron Heritage Stage
Three guitars, one bass, a big ol' drum kit, and electric keyboard, this is rock 'n roll come to jesus music, maybe the kind that inspired the Holy Rollers. If you want a gospel blues rock 'n roll country band, covering everything from love to perdition, these are your men. Once again, little islands of people are dancing, the sound system is awesome, and I am in heaven.
http://lineup.festivalinternational.com/band/the-mercy-brothers
Khaira Arby (Mali-Desert Blues) at the Scene Malibu Fais Do Do Stage
Once again Lafayete embraces the exotic, the spectator area is packed, am I repeating myself? Lafayette has become a musical tapas town where the idea is to sample music you’ve never heard of. Desert Blues sounds intriguing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dtci5CDZr9o
Men and women, as partners or solo, make up movement on the spot - trance, free form, or Martha Grahame with a world music twist. At the end of the show, the lead singer Khaira Arby introduces her band in Malian. We have no trouble imagining what she's saying and applaud when she talks about each of her two guitar players, one bass player, and the man behind a big percussion unit. Her two lead guitar players are whizzes. Her singing is enchanting and match her Malian nickname, "The Nightingale of the North".
Lamajamal (Middle East/US-Gypsy Surf) Scene TV5 Stage
This is the dark horse act of the day. From Vishten to Kaira Arby to Lamajamal one act tops another for sheer exoticism. Imagine the sounds the five of them make with a wild collection of instruments including mandolin, cümbüs (fretless Turkish banjo), drums, our, keyboard, guitar, melodica, accordion, clarinet, sax, flute, dulcimer and percussion.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nPAySRTTt0o&feature=youtu.be
One of the musicians says he’s from the West Bank, that a popular dance there is the circle dance. He asks people to form a circle, hold hands, and connect in energy and friendship. Hey, we may be in Lafayette, but today this could be Istanbul or Ramallah, no problem, friends and strangers dance to the joyous music, if there’s one word I will wear out today it is JOYOUS.
http://lineup.festivalinternational.com/band/lamajamal
Texas Tornadoes at Scene Malibu Fais Do Do stage
"These guys are awesome," a guy tells me, obviously in some kind of rapture, "I've been listening to them for twenty years.The original members Freddy Fender and Doug Sahm died recently but Sahm's son Shawn got the band rolling again. That guy playing the accordion, Flaco Jiménez, he's a legend!" With that he took his friend in his arms and began to dance. So it goes around here. Judging by the crowd, Tex-Music has a big following.
Slavic Soul Party (Balkans/US - Slavic Soul), Scene Malibu, Fais Do Do Stage
This is the greatest kitchen sink band, from one groove to the next they turn on a dime from the middle east to Africa to USA, often mashed altogether, gypsy, soul, funk, with a collection of brass, reed and percussion to pull it off. If you can imagine a New Orleans brass band with saxophone, accordion, trombone playing in a Turkish bazaar somewhere in Havana, you might approximate what these guys sound like. Once again, the crowd cheered them ferociously.
Photos and videos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
Friday Night April 27, 2012
Lafayette, Louisiana
Beats Antique (U.S.- Electronica/World/Dance),Scene Malibu Fais Do Do stage
Arrive in time to catch the last song by a totally funky group named Beats Antique. They wear masks and cavort about the stage to the tune of their own music. This is as close to a rave scene as I've heard so far, arms raised and waving in unison, the audience looks like a field of wheat swaying in the evening breeze. The band reminds me of an earth-bound Cirque de Soliel with a massive percussion section.
Pine Leaf Boys (Louisiana - Cajun), Scene Chevron Heritage Stage
The Pine Leaf Boys, local musicians with four Grammy nominations. They've revived the old time Cajun songbook and have so much fun doing it that they've captured the allegiance of their parents' generation, their own, and probably the ones to come.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0QDxkh85a0
The festival is run like clockwork. The shows begin on time and end on time. The Pine Leaf Boys show finishes at 8:59, scheduled to end at 9 PM. When the show is over, it is over. Within minutes tech crews are offloading one band's sound system and replacing it with the next - wires, mics and all.
At the end of the show, an announcer implores us, first in French, then in English, to buy festival pins and artist CDs and festival merchandise in the merchandise tent. This is the way the festival can run in the black and keep this spectacular weekend free to the public.
Lafayette is mindful of the French heritage common to much of southwest Louisiana - it's what binds the festival's music together. Lafayette began a French language immersion program in 1992. Over 1000 students are enrolled now, many more on a waiting list. For one or two generations before this, Cajun kids would get punished for speaking French in school. Pride in culture has been revived in the schools, it was never out of favor in the dance halls and front porches around here.
Lindigo ( Reunion Island-Maloya/Sega), Scene TV 5 Lafayette Stage
The band is as different in appearance and music content as anyone has seen so far this weekend. Listening to it puts most of us as close to Madagascar as we will ever get. As different as this music is, people are embracing it with feel-good enthusiasm. The sound has the same effect as a brass band that gets you to move your feet and get in touch with that spot in your heart that embraces joy and makes you smile. The lead singer has boundless energy. His movements groove and stop with the precision of Lindigo's traditional polyphonic songs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWsJCt-mFt4&feature=youtu.be
In case you had any doubt that the spirit is moving, here come a pair of silver haired locals parading in a samba step to the music, teenagers sashaying all over the place - this is happy music, people relate to it, there's a mom holding the handles of her kid's stroller and rocking the kid gently to the beat of the song.
The seven men and one woman on stage play traditional wooden percussion and metal percussion, no brass and no reed instruments, and one African string instrument. The lead singer paces the stage like James Brown, great moves, relentless energy, at one point the whole band steps and sways together. now I know where The Four Tops and The Persuasions got inspiration for their stage presence back in the 1950s.
Chico Trujillo (Chile – Cumbia/Punk/Ska/Chilean Folk), Scene Malibu Fais Do Do stage,
This Chilean band plays zesty Cumbia music, full of energy. A red, white, and blue Chilean is being waved by a proud compatriot somewhere in the front row. This band throws everything at us - trumpet, trombone, saxophones, drums, accordion, guitars, and soaring vocals. By turns sinuous and full bore rocking cumbia, it's all dance friendly. Hundreds of spectators take the cue, with all kinds of inventive dance moves.
Vagabond Swing (Louisiana–Gypsy/Afro beat/swing) Scene Chevron Heritage Stage
A wild combination if I have ever heard one, it attracts lots of the kids of the Goth persuasion.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ka4OD4RUD4&feature=youtu.be
Around 10:45 PM, Gary Clark, Jr. (US–rock), Scene Popeye International Stage
Gary is a phenomenal guitar player, got down and bluesy at end of set.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eh-K7Xhn3YY&feature=youtu.be
Photos and videos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
Thursday, April 26, 2012, UPDATED
Lafayette, Louisiana
Narrative to follow, having too much fun to write...look at this schedule. The fact that most Americans have never heard of most of these bands is a non-issue. The promoters have an ear for music that is connected with the predominantly French culture of southwest Louisiana.
In the words of the organizers…
“Festival International de Louisiane is a community-based, non-profit arts organization formed in 1986 to produce an annual visual and performing arts festival celebrating the French cultural heritage of southern Louisiana - primarily a combination of French, African, Caribbean and Hispanic influences.”
Every music act on each of the five major stages is introduced in French and English. Wandering up and down the streets of downtown Lafayette, I’ve heard French with Cajun, Canadian, and African accents. Thousands of people jammed the center of Lafayette Thursday night. This is the biggest, friendliest block party in the world.
By 7:15 Thursday night, the festival was ON...
Ce Qui Marchent Debout (France - Brass Funk)- Scene Malibu, Fais Do Do Stage
These guys rock. Big-time fusillades of brass, trumpets, saxophone and a percussion system with power that could back up a fracking machine. You can feel the vibration in the pavement under your feet. These guys are a grab bag of everything, rock funk Latin rumba and a little bit of rap llte and it’s no small wonder thousands of bots are shimmying to the beat of this cosmic party band.
Soul Express Brass Band (Louisiana - Brass) Opelousas's first Brass Band
Heading back down Jefferson, I hear the unmistakable "taa daa daa daa daaaaa daa..." of a New Orleans brass band. The Soul Express is holding court on the corner of Jefferson and Vermillion, the epicenter of the festival.
Nothing in the world sounds like a New Orleans brass band. The sheer raw firepower of pealing trumpets, glissando raking trombones, a big bad tuba, crackling snare drums, and one booming bass drum, with that particular rolling thunder New Orleans rhythm that inspires foot stomping booty shaking hand clapping behavior from anyone with a beating heart. Little girls hold hands and dance around in circles. Their big sisters and brothers groove right behind them. I don’t know how spontaneous Lafayette residents usually are, but here they are shaking just about everything God gave them to the beat of the band.
Bombino (Niger - Desert Rock) on the Scene Popeye International Stage
Vocals in Tuareg, band led by led by Omara "Bombino" Moctar, a young Tuareg guitarist from Niger, driven by three guitars and one gigantic drum set that packed the power of a summer storm.
Joel Savoy's Honky Tonk Merry Go Round (Louisiana - Honky Tonk)
A rare event, music inside and not on a big stage outside where they will play later this weekend, Joel Savoy's Honky Tonk Merry Go Round plays at Antlers, a bar on Jefferson. Ample sized stage and dance floor make for happy people. Joel's parents Mark and Ann Savoy were in the audience as were fellow musicians who come onstage to jam. The next day a friend told me Wayne Toups stopped by and sang a George Jones country song with the band. That must have been just this side of spectacular.
Scene Popeye, International Stage, Robert Randolph Family Band (US - Funk/Rock/Soul)
The first song got my attention but as the set war on the band devolved into a mellow Grateful Dead groove, music that meandered, then occasionally exploded with Robert Randolph's impressive frenzied solos. 11 PM, time to head to my motel.
Courtbouillon at The Blue Moon Saloon
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Forget that this is a show in a jam packed commercial venue. The three guys sitting side by side on the stage of the Blue Moon Saloon are in their own world. From the feeling of camaraderie onstage, Wilson Savoy on fiddle, Wayne Toups on accordion, and Steve Riley on guitar could be jamming on Wayne’s front porch. Wayne sits in the middle and is the engine pulling this train headlong down a Cajun line that stops in every town in the prairie.
“This next song is the Crowley Two Step,” Wilson Savoy announces as the second song rolls by. It’s one of the few songs they’ll identify by name during the two-hour love fest. Most of the crowd packing the saloon knows the names already. Even pt at large recognizes the melodies of songs he’s heard in previous trips to Lafayette.
You can’t sing Cajun songs without having felt the sting of sorrow or joy of love or the fun of living on the edge. The more Wayne Toups sips whatever is in the little black plastic cup at his side, the deeper into the bayou his songs reach. He’s not just singing lyrics, he’s singing the heritage, culture, and pride that exudes from every cell in his body.
Toups sings with vitality bordering on urgency, every so often letting out a whoop of pure enjoyment following it with a finger-flying flourish on buttons of his accordion and a few fierce foot stomps for good measure. His face soaked in sweat, a diamond earring flashing in the stage light, he banters with Savoy and Riley. After one especially playful duel with Savoy’s fiddle, a big smile spreads across Toups’ craggy face and he claps Savoy on the shoulder.
How often can you listen to three musicians, each famous in his own right, share the same stage? What pulled them together is their love of and prodigious knowledge of Cajun music. The songs these guys sing were old when they first heard them. They reach as far back as Amadee Ardoin, a Creole accordion player who is one of the fountainheads of Creole and Cajun style music and whose songs were some of the first recordings of this region’s music in 1929.
They first teamed up to play a year ago. They don’t appear together often so when it happens, it’s a huge draw. They’re sort of like earth, wind and fire. Toups provides the fire on accordion, Wilson Savoy, intently listening to his mates, provides the playful airy and wistful tones on his diminutive fiddle, Steve Riley, more reserved, is the earthy presence that keeps the show in an orbit fixed on their shared heritage. No drums are needed for this group. Eric Frey, standup bass player for The Red Stick Ramblers and The Revelers, keeps the backbeat in check.
A Courtbouillon (COO-be-yahn) is a thick, rich fish stew, brimming with Acadian flavors. Two hours of Cajun two-steps (like “Quel Etoile”) and pretty waltzes flash by in less time than it takes to simmer a courtbouillon. The songs have been sung in French…a fitting way to begin the next four days of the Festival International de Louisiane.
Photos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
April 26, 2012
Lafayette, Louisiana
pt at large is in Lafayette, Louisiana for the 26th Annual Festival International de Louisiane, five days worth of music and mingling, food and fun, dining and dancing. In the first two days here, I've met Pastel and Pascal of the band Vishten from the Magdalen Islands located in the Gulf of St Lawrence, listened to bands from France,Niger, and the good old USA. This is the biggest street party int the world.
"Festival International de Louisiane is truly a community event drawing together approximately 1,500 volunteers from all segments of the community to work together to celebrate both our diversity and the common human experience that binds us together. Through the arts presented and the joint efforts to produce it, the festival contributes to the spirit of community that is so unique to the Acadiana region.
The annual 5-day festival is held during the last full week of April. Historic downtown Lafayette, Louisiana, is transformed into an entertainment complex featuring six music stages, food court areas, street musicians and animators, arts and crafts boutiques, art galleries, beverage stands, cultural workshops, international cooking demonstrations and a world music store."
The festival was recently voted "Best World Music Festival" in the About.com WorldMusic Reader's Choice Awards.
Stay tuned for reports from Lafayette...
Photo of "Bombino" playing on the Scene Popeye Stage by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
Marché Atwater
138 avenue Atwater
À l'angle des rues Notre-Dame et Atwater (at the corner of Notre Dame and Atwater)
Montréal QC H4C 2H6
Friday, April 20, 2012
If you’re a foodie, you’ll feel like you died and went to heaven. Even if you’re just a plain vanilla appreciator of nourishment like pt at large, you’ll be dazzled by a visit to the Atwater Market in Montreal, Quebec. The word cornucopia comes to mind.
If it grew or was harvested or produced within trucking distance of Montreal, it is here: vegetables, fish, cheese, flowers, confections, wines, beers, artisanal drinks, pates, and meat of every variety. And a bakery stocked with goodies that stuns your imagination and short circuits your ability to choose just one or two delectables to go with your latte. You simply want to camp out there until you’ve tried every kind of croissant, cake, torte, cookie, pie, bread and baguette. By the time I walked down the market's two football field sized floors in the concrete and steel building, I was in a daze. Oo la la.
When my traveling companion asked for a selection of local cheeses, the young man behind the glass case at The Fromagerie Atwater said, “How about a sample of one hard cheese, one medium and one soft cheese.” He sorted through a pile of cheeses in the case, found what he wanted, gave us small wedges to sample, listened to our assessnents, and homed in on ones that matched our tastes. In the midst of the process, he motioned us to come behind the counter to see a map of the regions where the cheese was made and found a copy of the map for us to take with us.
He was cheerful, knowledgeable and appreciated our desire to learn about the products he knows from the cow to the counter. The store also sells delicatessen items, Quebec and imported micro brewery beers, and speciaty items. We could have stayed there for hours. The cheeses, by the way, were fabulous.
The hard cheese was LOUIS D'OR aged 24 months, priced at $58.99/kg from Fromagerie du Presbytere St. Elizabeth de Warwick. The soft cheese was KENOGAMI d'Hebertville. The medium cheese was consumed before I had a chance to record the label!
The Atwater Market is one of four huge markets and 11 neighborhood markets and flower kiosks designed to give Montrealers access to food and horticulture produced locally. In 1993, 250 farmers and vendors formed an alliance under the Corporation de Gestion des Marches Public de Montreal. The four huge public markets are located in historic buildings in different parts of Montreal and all steps from Metro stations. They've been enlarged and modernized and are hubs of activity every day.
The market was built in 1933 at a cost upward of one million dollars, a pretty steep pile of cabbage back then. In addition to the boutiques inside and on the perimeter of the building, the market’s third floor has a sprawling room that can hold 10,000 people for social and political events, a new twist on the food for thought theme.
My travel companion and I departed the market with bags filled with local "snow crab" legs (see photo below), maple sugar sweets, fresh roasted almonds and maple roasted cashews, a crusty loaf of olive bread, the aforementioned cheeses from the Lac St Jean area north of Montreal. We had tasted micro brews of blueberry (yes, blueberry), raspberry, and peach beer, and sampled a two-year-old cheese that the marketer hasn’t even devised a name for yet. As an afternoon bracer, I had a tasty latte and inhaled two almond croissants that made me want to move to Montreal.
Judging by the quantity and quality of the food in the Atwater, Montrealers take food seriously. I’m sure there are microwave ovens in their kitchens but I’ll bet they don’t spend much time defrosting frozen foods. Vive la Marché.
Photos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
The Jean Talon Market, another of the four huge public markets reviewed by pt at large in July, 2010
Oo laa laa...
Check here to see if the veggies you want are in season
Local "snow" crab (photo at right that is only harvested for six weeks in April and the beginning of May. Freshly steamed on the premises at Capita1ne Crabe's so it couldn't be any fresher. So sweet it would be a crime to put sauce or butter of any kind on it.
pt at large could have camped out at this boutique for days
Everything here fresh, clean, and presented with care
Everything from soup to nuts
Just one more look...
Jeff Kelly Lowenstein: My Walking Talking Lifetime Achievement Award
Jeff Kelly Lowenstein. Google the name. Ten pages worth of Jeff Kelly Lowenstein later, Google’s still rolling out his name. Impressive.
Let’s see. Award winning reporter for the Chicago Reporter; currently Database and Investigative Editor for the Chicago Tribune’s Spanish language newspaper Hoy (and is becoming fluent in Spanish while he’s at it); the 2007 Racial Justice Fellow at the Institute of Justice and Journalism at USC’s Annnenberg School of Communication; one of a handful of journalists from around the world to be selected in the Climate Change Media Partnership’s first Fellowship Program to send journalists to the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Durban (COP17) in November 2011; contributor to the Huffington Post; awarded a Dennis Hunt Fellowship in 2011; currently president of the Dart Society…I could go on. Run that Google search and see for yourself.
I’ve known him since he was nine years old. And I'm mighty proud of him.
“I want Mr. Tamburello for my fourth grade teacher,” he remembers telling his mom in 1974. Alice Lowenstein was on the board of the Parent Teacher Organization. Jeff was placed in 4T. He was one of the bright spots in a really interesting bunch of kids in my 1974-75 class at the John Pierce School in Brookline, MA.
Jeff (R) interviewing a classmate on the first day of school in 1974
There must be a gene that creates the ability to connect the dots that link human relationships. Jeff is a natural. He made friends with every kid in the class. His style was subtle and steady. Kids respected him, an act that mirrored what they experienced from him. His voice is deeper now but his style hasn’t changed a jot.
He’d stop by to visit me after school from grade 5 through his years at Brookline High School, then during vacations when he returned to the east coast from Stanford (graduated Summa Cum Laude). When Jeff’s mom and dad were involved in a terrible automobile accident after he graduated, his mother nearly died. Fate drew him back to Brookline. Jeff and his brothers Jon and Michael shared home care for their mother’s arduous recovery and rehabilitation. It was a long road. Jeff needed some structure and a sense of familiar territory to hold his days and nights together. He walked over to the Pierce School.
“We are family,” was principal Alvin Fortune’s motto. A big man with a bigger heart, he offered Jeff a job, knowing that Jeff was not only a caretaker for his mother, but needed some TLC himself. Our teaching community embraced him.
After a stint of running our recess program and the less exciting task of shelving books for our two motherly librarians who fed him snacks every day, Jeff asked if he could sit in on my classes, maybe help teach for a couple of hours a day. The smartest thing I ever did was to say yes. The next two years were the most exciting of my 34 year career.
That summa cum laude from Stanford was not just an impressive certificate to hang on the wall. Jeff authored terrific American History lessons, engineered activities that involved every level of student. Kids loved his style. They knew he was present, a huge gift, and that his desire to teach was balanced by his desire to know who they were and what they needed to succeed. He learned to manage a class of ten year olds. Watching him teach was fun.
Jeff added a program to my series of “Life Talks,” which he called “The You Can Do Anything Program” in which he invited artists, musicians, writers – all friends of his – to talk about the paths that led them to their callings.
Talking with him after class about strategies for content delivery, class management, which kids looked involved and which ones needed help, where the lesson would lead tomorrow… those sessions were a gift. They gave me insight into the depth of experience I hadn’t realized I’d absorbed in my first 18 years of teaching. And I learned a lot by watching Jeff work a room with an inclusive style that made every kid feel like he or she was in the game.
Jeff was an astute observer. I asked him to write anecdotal comments about each student and used them when Jeff sat in with me when we met with parents for conferences about their child twice a year. Jeff owns a memory that rivals a purse seine trawler for its capacity to collect (and retain) data. When he spoke about their kids, he included specific examples for everything he wrote.
Twenty-four looks pretty old when you’re nine. My students would examine photos pinned to my bulletin board of Jeff as a fourth grader in 4T, look at him as a grown man, then try to figure out how ancient I must be to have been his teacher in the olden days. It was a gas.
Over the past forty years I’ve known Jeff as a student, mentor, fellow teacher, and, for the past twenty-five years or so, as a friend. I’ve witnessed him embrace challenges through his first career as a middle school teacher and through his evolutions as a reporter. He brings an incandescent energy to the cause of social justice that inspires his colleagues. Honest to goodness, I’ve seen him operate with this vision since he was nine years old.
I call Jeff Kelly Lowenstein my “Walking Talking Lifetime Achievement Award.”
On May 17, I’m heading to New York City to the second annual fund raiser/auction for the Dart Society, an organization of journalists that works to tell stories about trauma and violence with sensitivity and compassion, and that also works to help journalists deal with the impact of doing that work. Jeff Kelly Lowenstein is president of the organization. A perfect match.
Jeff and pt through the years
1974 Jeff learning about Japanese culture with classmates in 4T
1989 Goofing around as The Dynamic Duo during Pierce School's annual "Dress Up Day" ; 2001 recording commentaries for NPR affiliate WFCR-FM in Amherst, MA
B/W classroom photos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
May 15, 2012 in Commentaries | Permalink | Comments (6)
Technorati Tags: Jeff Kelly Lowenstein, The Dart Society