by Patrick Jarenwattananon with Josh Jackson of WBGO
Michiel Huisman and Lucia Micarelli as Sonny and Annie. (Paul Schiraldi/HBO)
The most powerful scene in episode three of Treme takes place in the destroyed Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans. Mardi Gras Indians from several tribes have gathered to commemorate the death of their comrade, who literally died during Hurricane Katrina. In the middle of the highly spiritual ceremony, set amid grey destruction, a "Katrina Tour" bus barrels through. The hostility is searing.
Treme is about the residents of New Orleans, but the real town depends economically on tourism, and its cinematic depiction doesn't ignore this. Antoine and the buskers make their livings playing music largely for tourists; restaurants like Janette's do business with out-of-towners; Davis' last paycheck came from working at a hotel. And not just the debauchery/Bourbon Street side of tourism, but the marketing of culture, of authentic experience of an eccentric city. The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, as amazing and overwhelming as it is, testifies to this.
With the "Katrina Tour" bus, and the clueless Wisconsin tourists of episode two, Treme's creators seem to be hinting at what they feel constitutes authentic experience. It can't be voyeurism, or passively observed; it's participated in, lived every day by everyday people. It's an argument that compelling cultural activity happens all the time.
In New Orleans, where musicians are very much everyday people, the show's soundtrack is more than just background music. Speaking of that soundtrack, WBGO's Josh Jackson and I, having just soaked up three days of Jazz Fest, e-mailed about episode three, as we have for the first two as well. HBO's full playlist is here.
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Patrick Jarenwattananon: Ok, so let's look at the music performances, which you and I recently learned were entirely recorded live to tape -- no studio mixing-in afterward. (It's an amazing engineering feat, if I may say so.) The first is Annie and Sonny's performance with the accordion player, doing "La Vie En Rose." That's in the French Quarter, I can recognize. I know there's a lot of competent busking in that part of town.
Continue reading "'Treme,' Episode Three: Playing For That Money" »
3:51 PM ET
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04-26-2010
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by Patrick Jarenwattananon
After well over a decade in New Orleans, Theresa Andersson developed her one-woman show. (Patrick Jarenwattananon/NPR)
Snare drum, rack tom, floor tom. Acoustic guitar. Violin. Tambourine. Portable turntable. Two microphones. At least 10 pedals.
Theresa Andersson isn't the first to create full, artful pop out as a one-person show, precisely looping her voice and multiple instruments and gutsily emoting atop of it. It certainly commands your attention, though. And on a sunny Sunday at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, she packed a rapt crowd at the Fais Do-Do Stage as full as it was the entire weekend.
Though raised in Sweden -- she still has a very faint tinge to her accent -- she's been based in New Orleans now for about two decades. She's used that time to integrate herself into the tight-knit musical community here. (Allen Toussaint appears on her latest album and concert DVD.) And some bluesy flavor came out in her gritty, complex take on "Blue Skies," alternately scatted and belted with energy.
But she's capable of catharsis too. So captivated was the crowd that Andersson was obliged to take an encore, an a cappella take on "Find The Cost Of Freedom." Of course, she was Crosby, Stills, Nash and herself all at once.
3:49 PM ET
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04-26-2010
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The Big Chief Monk Boudreaux (Patrick Jarenwattananon/NPR)
It's been a rainy whirlwind down in New Orleans -- Josh Jackson and Patrick Jarenwattananon divided, then conquered the festival, sending back photos, reports and tape. So far this weekend Josh has been enthralled by both a little boy (the Spy Boy for the Comanche Hunter Mardi Gras Indians) and a youthful 99-year-old. Patrick found The Bounce Extravaganza and caught the festival's headliners: My Morning Jacket, Drake and Simon & Garfunkel.
And every night the two met up to exchange war stories and eat really really good food. You can download their recaps of Day 1 and Day 2. Check back soon for Day 3's roundup, their weekly Treme dissection -- you know it's going to be hot, considering this tweet -- and more.
1:01 PM ET
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04-26-2010
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by Patrick Jarenwattananon
The professional side of Donald Harrison, Jr. (Patrick Jarenwattananon/NPR)
These days, alto saxophonist Donald Harrison Jr. often plays a sort of instrumental R&B. His set at the Congo Square "My Louisiana" stage on the first Sunday of the 2010 Jazz and Heritage Festival led off with The Meters' "Cissy Strut," and two songs later, went into "Feel Like Making Love."
But years before that, Harrison established his reputation in music as a leading straight-ahead jazzman. And years before that, he first masked as a Mardi Gras Indian.
Not long after his set, the children of the Guardians of the Flame tribe put on an exhibition at the Kids' Tent. (Photos of their performance are unavailable due to copyright issues, but I'll assure you they were adorable.) The Guardians are the tribe founded by Donald Harrison Sr.; his son grew up in that tradition. Now, Donald Jr. is a Big Chief too.
The rest of America has Little League, Boy Scouts, Sunday school. New Orleans has all that too, but for certain African-American folks here, Indian tribes also serve as a sort of youth group. It struck me especially hard when one Guardians song was introduced as a tool for teaching conflict resolution: Indian tribes aren't merely isolated spare-time pursuits. They're communities dedicated to a demanding craft and its attendant values.
Fittingly, that craft includes performing in an ensemble. I don't know how being a Mardi Gras Indian comes out in Harrison's music-making necessarily -- how his folk art affects his professional art. But it's tucked deep in there somewhere. According to this Times-Picayune report, at last year's Jazz Fest performance, Harrison stepped away from his (hard-swinging jazz) performance to change into costume and perform a few Indian chants. I couldn't stay for all of this year's show, but judging from photographs of the scene, it seems as if the Big Chief fancied purple for this year's outfit.
12:10 PM ET
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04-26-2010
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by Josh Jackson, WBGO
There's no need explaining
The one remaining is somebody I adore
I'm looking over a four-leaf clover
That I've overlooked before
If you think "I'm Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover" is an old number, meet someone who was a teenager when it was written.
Lionel Ferbos, 98, is the oldest active jazz musician in New Orleans. (Josh Jackson)
Trumpeter Lionel Ferbos will be 99 in July, and he has every intention of reaching the century mark. He still maintains a weekly gig at The Palm Court Jazz Cafe in the French Quarter. He carries his own horn and handwritten sheet music. He dresses sharply.
Ferbos played trumpet with two masters of New Orleans jazz, Walter Pichon and Captain John Handy. When he sings songs like "I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter" or "I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate," he adds a certain gravitas to songs with little currency to a jazz musician.
He can play "The Sheik of Araby" with enough bravura to make an audience spontaneously break into a second line. I know these things because I am a witness to his Sunday performance at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.
9:31 AM ET
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04-26-2010
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