Latest in a long series of movies being filmed in belle NOLA is the crazy mash-up "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter,", based on a recent best-selling book. Two blocks of Julia Street downtown, with elegant 19th century buildings and storefronts, have been transformed into a movie set, complete with extras in historic costume, period advertisements and signs, and lovely old wagons and carriages parked curbside -- and wind machines blowing picturesque dust all around. We have not yet spotted any of the principal actors, including a villain vampire who looks seriously sexy in publicity shots, but we're keeping our eyes out.
The Wednesday crowds for the Concert at the Square (see next posting) were really enjoying rubber-necking the movie production on their way to Lafayette Square. We will enjoy checking out the movie once it's released, as we can never resist a movie filmed in our beloved city. (We even saw that awful action movie, just 'cause it was filmed in our neighborhood!)
Interesting shot: two women extras sitting on a bench newly placed on Julia for the shoot, dressed in 19th century garb, but apparently not in the take being filmed. Their legs were crossed anachronistically (look it up -- women didn't cross their legs while sitting until the 20th century), and they had hiked up their skirts above their knees to catch the breeze in the heat. Kind of amusing.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
A Wedding, a Funeral, & French Quarter Festival
What a busy weekend! My sister H was in town briefly from Minneapolis; I performed an informal wedding ceremony in a beautiful courtyard at a guesthouse in Treme on the edge of the Quarter; I did a funeral for a friend's mother on Saturday; it was the French Quarter festival; and our monthly family dinner, instead of being a cooking competition, was held at the Star Steak & Lobster Restaurant on Decatur. On top of everything else, Sunday was the big celebration worship service at our sister church to dedicate their brand-new post-Katrina building. Oh my! It was just run from one to thing to another. I was sure glad when Monday rolled around.
Thursday night we took my sister H out to Frenchman Street, and it was quite the smorgasbord of musical selections -- a great combo with horns playing the Spotted Cat, Shamarr Allen and his Big Dawgs at DBA, a street band of what Big Man calls "waifs," the Boom-Boom Room hosting the HBO "Treme" filming, and the Balcony Club with the Mardi Gras Indian Rhythm group and a Big Chief. Big Man played with them and it was the bomb! H was totally blown away by the amount and quality of live music on Frenchman on a Thursday (of course, it was FQF, but still and all ...)
The weekend's weather was, once again, Tourist commission perfect. If you wanted to quibble, I guess you could have said it was a little too hot for the season, but it was mild and sunny, with blue skies, a few fluffy clouds, and a wonderful, cooling breeze off the River. Just wonderful. I made a big mistake by not wearing sunblock to the little wedding ceremony on Friday, and I ended up with mild sunburn on my shoulders. I learned my lesson and was lathered up for the funeral on Saturday afternoon, prepatory to hitting the festival right after.
Of course we enjoyed the people-watching, and there were lots of people to watch. It does seem that the FQF gets more and more popular every single year. The crowds were huge! But still, it was always possible to find a good place to stand or sit and enjoy the music, sometimes even with shade, and we never had to stand in a line once, for food or drink, or for Portalets. So while there were lots and lots of people there -- of all kinds, of all ages, of every ethnicity -- it was not a problem.
Music we enjoyed: Swingaroux, Gal Holiday, Bone Tone, Irene Sage, Coco Robichaux, the Pinettes, Walter "Wolfman" Washington, Joe Krown, Russell Batiste, and so many more! Plus there were the delights that were off the FQF schedule -- Big Man pulling out his horn and blowing along with a drummer and guitarist in front of the Cathedral, to the great appreciation of both crowd and musicians; and the unknown young black soprano who stood on an iron lace balcony on Chartres and regaled a stunned audience below on the sidewalk in front of the W Hotel with aria after aria. It was like a dream.
Food was great also, as always. Loved the smoked turkey legs, the char-grilled oysters, and a special shout-out to the Praline Connection festival plate of grilled marinated chicken livers with hot pepper jelly, grilled zucchini and onions, and traditional mess of greens served over rice. Yum!
Another fantastic FQF and now it's on to the countdown for Jazz Fest!
Thursday night we took my sister H out to Frenchman Street, and it was quite the smorgasbord of musical selections -- a great combo with horns playing the Spotted Cat, Shamarr Allen and his Big Dawgs at DBA, a street band of what Big Man calls "waifs," the Boom-Boom Room hosting the HBO "Treme" filming, and the Balcony Club with the Mardi Gras Indian Rhythm group and a Big Chief. Big Man played with them and it was the bomb! H was totally blown away by the amount and quality of live music on Frenchman on a Thursday (of course, it was FQF, but still and all ...)
The weekend's weather was, once again, Tourist commission perfect. If you wanted to quibble, I guess you could have said it was a little too hot for the season, but it was mild and sunny, with blue skies, a few fluffy clouds, and a wonderful, cooling breeze off the River. Just wonderful. I made a big mistake by not wearing sunblock to the little wedding ceremony on Friday, and I ended up with mild sunburn on my shoulders. I learned my lesson and was lathered up for the funeral on Saturday afternoon, prepatory to hitting the festival right after.
Of course we enjoyed the people-watching, and there were lots of people to watch. It does seem that the FQF gets more and more popular every single year. The crowds were huge! But still, it was always possible to find a good place to stand or sit and enjoy the music, sometimes even with shade, and we never had to stand in a line once, for food or drink, or for Portalets. So while there were lots and lots of people there -- of all kinds, of all ages, of every ethnicity -- it was not a problem.
Music we enjoyed: Swingaroux, Gal Holiday, Bone Tone, Irene Sage, Coco Robichaux, the Pinettes, Walter "Wolfman" Washington, Joe Krown, Russell Batiste, and so many more! Plus there were the delights that were off the FQF schedule -- Big Man pulling out his horn and blowing along with a drummer and guitarist in front of the Cathedral, to the great appreciation of both crowd and musicians; and the unknown young black soprano who stood on an iron lace balcony on Chartres and regaled a stunned audience below on the sidewalk in front of the W Hotel with aria after aria. It was like a dream.
Food was great also, as always. Loved the smoked turkey legs, the char-grilled oysters, and a special shout-out to the Praline Connection festival plate of grilled marinated chicken livers with hot pepper jelly, grilled zucchini and onions, and traditional mess of greens served over rice. Yum!
Another fantastic FQF and now it's on to the countdown for Jazz Fest!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Wednesday at the Square
Unfortunately, I was down with very very bad cold and allergy symptoms last week (just awful! I actually stayed home sick from the church), so I had to miss the first of the weekly Lafayette Square concerts, which featured The Rads in yet another of their farewell appearances. But really, I'd've had to have been hospitalized to miss this week, with Trombone Shorty.
Yesterday was a gorgeous day, just what the Tourist Commission orders up for April -- blue skies, mild temperatures, sunshine, and low humidity -- and so Big Man and I decided to walk to the Square from our house in the lower Lower Garden District, a distance of a little over a mile each way. This is not something I would advise in, say, August, but it's perfectly feasible and even pleasant to do it in April. We carried our folding chairs and took our time about it, and arrived just the warm-up group, the Soul Rebels, were setting up.
We found a good spot near the middle and set up chairs up and then walked away to enjoy the people and the dogs, to check out whatever differences there were with the arrangements of the Square this year, and to decide on something to eat. It was still early yet, and so things hadn't gotten as crowded as they would get later, as the downtown offices shut down and more folks arrived. Everyone was in good spirits, and there was all the usual visiting and mingling and strangers passing the time of day with each other. Big Man and a black man in a sharp hat exchanged compliments with each other on their choices of headgear and on the high merits of the famous Meyer the Hatter store on St. Charles, and I got a nice word from a friend who hadn't seen me since my haircut.
We settled on chaurice on a stick from the New Orleans Sausage Company for Big Man -- however, when somebody came by and snapped a picture, it was ME taking a bite off of it. I'm sure *that* will be a very flattering photo! And I couldn't resist the duck po boy with spicy cole slaw at the Atchafalaya booth. Yummy!
The Soul Rebels were fun and very good. The crowd seemed to especially like the "504" song, celebrating, of course, the familiar and beloved NOLA area code. By the time the Rebels broke around 6-ish, the crowd had increased considerably, and it took patience, ingenuity, and courtesy to navigate one's way around and through. Still, everyone was in a jovial mood, filled with pleasant expectation.
Well, I've blogged about Shorty/Troy Andrews before, and if I gush too much, readers will think I have a crush on him. Let's just say his set was amazing, his band tight and talented, the tunes coming fast and furious and sometimes smoothly seguéing from one to another (to another). It seems there's nothing Shorty can't do -- he's great on trombone, amazing on his gorgeous Monette trumpet, serious on the keyboards, great on vocals. His stage presence just knocks you out, and -- let's face it -- he is one good-looking young man.
What a concert! It was amazing. Everyone staggering away when it was over, the last notes fading out form the surrounding buildings, was talking about how far Troy has come as a musician and as a performer, and each person tried to outdo all the others in using superlatives in describing what we all had just heard and seen. We were blessed to have been there,
Yesterday was a gorgeous day, just what the Tourist Commission orders up for April -- blue skies, mild temperatures, sunshine, and low humidity -- and so Big Man and I decided to walk to the Square from our house in the lower Lower Garden District, a distance of a little over a mile each way. This is not something I would advise in, say, August, but it's perfectly feasible and even pleasant to do it in April. We carried our folding chairs and took our time about it, and arrived just the warm-up group, the Soul Rebels, were setting up.
We found a good spot near the middle and set up chairs up and then walked away to enjoy the people and the dogs, to check out whatever differences there were with the arrangements of the Square this year, and to decide on something to eat. It was still early yet, and so things hadn't gotten as crowded as they would get later, as the downtown offices shut down and more folks arrived. Everyone was in good spirits, and there was all the usual visiting and mingling and strangers passing the time of day with each other. Big Man and a black man in a sharp hat exchanged compliments with each other on their choices of headgear and on the high merits of the famous Meyer the Hatter store on St. Charles, and I got a nice word from a friend who hadn't seen me since my haircut.
We settled on chaurice on a stick from the New Orleans Sausage Company for Big Man -- however, when somebody came by and snapped a picture, it was ME taking a bite off of it. I'm sure *that* will be a very flattering photo! And I couldn't resist the duck po boy with spicy cole slaw at the Atchafalaya booth. Yummy!
The Soul Rebels were fun and very good. The crowd seemed to especially like the "504" song, celebrating, of course, the familiar and beloved NOLA area code. By the time the Rebels broke around 6-ish, the crowd had increased considerably, and it took patience, ingenuity, and courtesy to navigate one's way around and through. Still, everyone was in a jovial mood, filled with pleasant expectation.
Well, I've blogged about Shorty/Troy Andrews before, and if I gush too much, readers will think I have a crush on him. Let's just say his set was amazing, his band tight and talented, the tunes coming fast and furious and sometimes smoothly seguéing from one to another (to another). It seems there's nothing Shorty can't do -- he's great on trombone, amazing on his gorgeous Monette trumpet, serious on the keyboards, great on vocals. His stage presence just knocks you out, and -- let's face it -- he is one good-looking young man.
What a concert! It was amazing. Everyone staggering away when it was over, the last notes fading out form the surrounding buildings, was talking about how far Troy has come as a musician and as a performer, and each person tried to outdo all the others in using superlatives in describing what we all had just heard and seen. We were blessed to have been there,
Thursday, March 17, 2011
The Mad Whirl of Carnival...
...is officially over, but with St. Patrick's Day parades on the Saturday after Mardi Gras (and more of 'em today on the actual saint's day), PLUS the St. Joseph's day celebrations starting tomorrow and parades and altars this weekend -- well, it's just too much. A late Mardi Gras can be terrific, especially in terms of weather, but having Mardi Gras Day and St. Pat's parades in the *same week* is overwhelming.
It was indeed a beautiful, exciting, warm, luscious, mad whirl of Carnival. There were only 2 days when it was sort of cool, and only one day of rain. Mardi Gras Day threatened rain, but didn't deliver til the parades and festivities were all done -- how considerate!
The most lovely and artistic krewes were of course the old-line traditional, with special recognition going to Hermes and especially Proteus (good on ya, Royal Artists!) The satirical krewes of Chaos, Muses, and d'Etat (and to a certain extent Thoth, with their slain boef gras upside down with its hooves in the air!) did great jobs, and were sharp and funny. But I have to say that having so many thought-and-speech balloons is really distracting and off-putting. When you think back to the very first satiric parade, Comus, in the 1800s, they did not need captions for folks to get the joke and their floats were quite beautiful despite their "bite." And that in an age when images were not nearly as ubiquitous as they are now. I wish the satiric krewes would cut back on the words and give us more images.
The so-called super krewes, Bacchus and Endymion, OK, and just that. You'd think with the extra expanse of square footage, the krewes could be more creative, but whether for monetary reasons or lack of imagination, it just didn't happen. They plunk an expensive headpiece or figure on the front, another on the back, and in the middle a whole lotta nothin'. It's sad and disappointing.
Speaking of disappointing, Orpheus was a bust this year. When I think back to the floats of Orpheus in 2005, with the theme of "The Dance of the Hours," and how the floats were so completely lovely and elegant, they actually brought *tears* to my eyes, I feel let down by this year's Orpheus floats. Yes, there were some nice figures and great lighting, especially on the fronts, but along the sides they just slapped on giant flowers or flower-like crystal shapes, or flower-like explosion shapes. C'mon! That's just plain LAZY! (However, Orpheus does get props for great cups this year.)
Special shout-out to the rental krewes who all (with the normal exception of Zulu) seemed to make an extra effort and paid for front figures on generic and slightly less cheesy rental floats this year. Nice job, y'all! (Zulu does not need to make that expense, as nobody goes to Zulu to look at floats.)
We all look forward to watching the second season of "Tremé" on HBO, as we watched the crew and principal actors filming a Mardi Gras episode right across the street from our favored parade spot during Muses. Melissa Leo and the young actress who plays her daughter looked like they were having a great time.
Big Man played in bands in several parades this year, ending with Rex on Mardi Gras Day -- a BIG honor my father would've been so proud of! (Rex was pretty this year, nice theme celebrating everything England in "This Sceptered Isle.") On our way back to the parade route, after dropping off Big Man at the start of Rex, my son and I were delighted to run across the Wild Magnolia Mardi Gras Indian tribe coming through the Calliope, wind blowing their feathers. We rolled down the windows and hollered "Pretty-pretty!" to them in tribute.
All in all, this year's Mardi Gras Day crowds were heavy, and friendly, and lots and lots of people put some effort into their costumes and outfits. A lot of walking (my bad ankle required special babying on Ash Wednesday!), a lot of parade food eating, and a lot of eating. A lot of curbside booty-shaking, a lot of laughing, a lot of gossiping. It was tremendous fun, and thank God it's over.
It was indeed a beautiful, exciting, warm, luscious, mad whirl of Carnival. There were only 2 days when it was sort of cool, and only one day of rain. Mardi Gras Day threatened rain, but didn't deliver til the parades and festivities were all done -- how considerate!
The most lovely and artistic krewes were of course the old-line traditional, with special recognition going to Hermes and especially Proteus (good on ya, Royal Artists!) The satirical krewes of Chaos, Muses, and d'Etat (and to a certain extent Thoth, with their slain boef gras upside down with its hooves in the air!) did great jobs, and were sharp and funny. But I have to say that having so many thought-and-speech balloons is really distracting and off-putting. When you think back to the very first satiric parade, Comus, in the 1800s, they did not need captions for folks to get the joke and their floats were quite beautiful despite their "bite." And that in an age when images were not nearly as ubiquitous as they are now. I wish the satiric krewes would cut back on the words and give us more images.
The so-called super krewes, Bacchus and Endymion, OK, and just that. You'd think with the extra expanse of square footage, the krewes could be more creative, but whether for monetary reasons or lack of imagination, it just didn't happen. They plunk an expensive headpiece or figure on the front, another on the back, and in the middle a whole lotta nothin'. It's sad and disappointing.
Speaking of disappointing, Orpheus was a bust this year. When I think back to the floats of Orpheus in 2005, with the theme of "The Dance of the Hours," and how the floats were so completely lovely and elegant, they actually brought *tears* to my eyes, I feel let down by this year's Orpheus floats. Yes, there were some nice figures and great lighting, especially on the fronts, but along the sides they just slapped on giant flowers or flower-like crystal shapes, or flower-like explosion shapes. C'mon! That's just plain LAZY! (However, Orpheus does get props for great cups this year.)
Special shout-out to the rental krewes who all (with the normal exception of Zulu) seemed to make an extra effort and paid for front figures on generic and slightly less cheesy rental floats this year. Nice job, y'all! (Zulu does not need to make that expense, as nobody goes to Zulu to look at floats.)
We all look forward to watching the second season of "Tremé" on HBO, as we watched the crew and principal actors filming a Mardi Gras episode right across the street from our favored parade spot during Muses. Melissa Leo and the young actress who plays her daughter looked like they were having a great time.
Big Man played in bands in several parades this year, ending with Rex on Mardi Gras Day -- a BIG honor my father would've been so proud of! (Rex was pretty this year, nice theme celebrating everything England in "This Sceptered Isle.") On our way back to the parade route, after dropping off Big Man at the start of Rex, my son and I were delighted to run across the Wild Magnolia Mardi Gras Indian tribe coming through the Calliope, wind blowing their feathers. We rolled down the windows and hollered "Pretty-pretty!" to them in tribute.
All in all, this year's Mardi Gras Day crowds were heavy, and friendly, and lots and lots of people put some effort into their costumes and outfits. A lot of walking (my bad ankle required special babying on Ash Wednesday!), a lot of parade food eating, and a lot of eating. A lot of curbside booty-shaking, a lot of laughing, a lot of gossiping. It was tremendous fun, and thank God it's over.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Jefferson Variety
There are just a few small things I needed to do to finish my costume, which I will wear for both MOMs and Mardi Gras day, and so on our day off together, Big Man and I headed after brunch to Jefferson Variety on Iris Street in Jefferson just off River Road. This is a complete Carnival store, which, while not nearly as fancy as Plush Appeal in Mid-City (2811 Toulouse St. just off Carrollton), has a very good selection of Carnival fabrics and trims, including plumes and feathers and beads for sewing onto costumes (they also carry beads for throwing, but they were VERY picked over by this time, as was the selection of plush animals, not nearly as extensive as Plush Appeal).
While there, we had to tour the whole store, and we found some small second-line type umbrellas, undecorated, for less than $2 a piece. I still think that would be a good fundraiser for the church, but I'd need to organize folks to do the decorating. I think we could charge around $25 for the finished parasols, and the decorating could be fun. Hmm. Will have to think more about it.
When we entered the back room, where the fabric and costume accessories and trims are kept,we found an actual line of people waiting to be served. Yikes! And because most of the people in line were still deliberating over details of their costumes, each person took longer than you would have wanted. But in typical New Orleans style, everyone conversed and gathered opinions from everyone else. "Do you like this stretch sequin trim, or this mirrored braid better?" "Does this color go with print?" (The answer to that is always YES, but only at Carnival.) "Do you think I need a hat with this, or is a headband like this OK?" and so on.
Big Man took special interest in the two husky back men dressed in work clothes (one in a construction vest and the other in a mechanic's overalls) who were perusing colored brocades and satins with careful deliberation. One even got on his phone to describe a certain pattern to the listener on the other end. When they got into the line to wait for service, they were heard discussing exactly how many pounds of feathers they would need. I assumed they were Mardi Gras Indians, but I thought it awfully late for them to be finishing up their shopping to complete their "suits" for Carnival Day. Big Man was fascinated and commented later that only in New Orleans would such obviously masculine black men be so concerned with things like rhinestones, sequins, and pounds of dyed ostrich feathers.
I got a purple satin mask, the eyeholes of which I'll have to carefully enlarge, 2 yards of hot pink sequin trim, and two large beautiful hot pink ostrich feathers. This will complete my costume (more on that later, don't want to spill the beans too early), and two large plastic Mardi Gras mask house decorations to add to the lights, fabric drape, toy display, and wreath decorating the front of our house. (Interestingly, in the week that the decorations have been up, not a single thing, not a frisbee or a football, has disappeared. I'm almost disappointed, as I have back-ups that I was going to put out as soon as these got picked up. I may have to resort to actually giving them away, or putting them all into the box for our grandson.)
That was an enjoyable trip for both of us, and I only spent about $20. Now, all I have to do is make the time to work on the mask and my headpiece.
While there, we had to tour the whole store, and we found some small second-line type umbrellas, undecorated, for less than $2 a piece. I still think that would be a good fundraiser for the church, but I'd need to organize folks to do the decorating. I think we could charge around $25 for the finished parasols, and the decorating could be fun. Hmm. Will have to think more about it.
When we entered the back room, where the fabric and costume accessories and trims are kept,we found an actual line of people waiting to be served. Yikes! And because most of the people in line were still deliberating over details of their costumes, each person took longer than you would have wanted. But in typical New Orleans style, everyone conversed and gathered opinions from everyone else. "Do you like this stretch sequin trim, or this mirrored braid better?" "Does this color go with print?" (The answer to that is always YES, but only at Carnival.) "Do you think I need a hat with this, or is a headband like this OK?" and so on.
Big Man took special interest in the two husky back men dressed in work clothes (one in a construction vest and the other in a mechanic's overalls) who were perusing colored brocades and satins with careful deliberation. One even got on his phone to describe a certain pattern to the listener on the other end. When they got into the line to wait for service, they were heard discussing exactly how many pounds of feathers they would need. I assumed they were Mardi Gras Indians, but I thought it awfully late for them to be finishing up their shopping to complete their "suits" for Carnival Day. Big Man was fascinated and commented later that only in New Orleans would such obviously masculine black men be so concerned with things like rhinestones, sequins, and pounds of dyed ostrich feathers.
I got a purple satin mask, the eyeholes of which I'll have to carefully enlarge, 2 yards of hot pink sequin trim, and two large beautiful hot pink ostrich feathers. This will complete my costume (more on that later, don't want to spill the beans too early), and two large plastic Mardi Gras mask house decorations to add to the lights, fabric drape, toy display, and wreath decorating the front of our house. (Interestingly, in the week that the decorations have been up, not a single thing, not a frisbee or a football, has disappeared. I'm almost disappointed, as I have back-ups that I was going to put out as soon as these got picked up. I may have to resort to actually giving them away, or putting them all into the box for our grandson.)
That was an enjoyable trip for both of us, and I only spent about $20. Now, all I have to do is make the time to work on the mask and my headpiece.
First Parade Weekend
Well, last weekend was the first real parade weekend of the 2011 Carnival Season. (Readers know that while I love Krewe du Vieux, I do not consider it a "real" parade. However, I do agree with the general feeling that so-called Mardi Gras expert Arthur Hardy ought to be including KDV and Barkus to his vaunted Mardi Gras Guide. Marching groups are part of Mardi Gras too.)
The kick-off parade is Oshun on Friday. It is our tradition to start off with raw oysters at Pascal's before the parade, and so a group of us converged there about 5:15 pm. Thomas, who has been touted far and wide as "the best oyster shucker in the city" was on hand to do the honors. His title is well-deserved, and we complained that his press clippings and Internet raves were not framed behind him at the oyster bar. He modestly said it wasn't his place to promote himself, but L was insistent (and she can be both insistent and persuasive). In fact, she cornered the restaurant manager and asked about it, and he assured us that if we brought in the framed clipping, he would hang it. (L promptly assigned the research and the framing to me. After Carnival, of course.)
It was amazing how short a time it takes for Thomas to shuck 36 oysters, and perhaps just as amazing how short a time it took us to scarf them down. Showering Thomas with praise and our usual extravagant tip, we left, promising to come back for another parade. (We also ascertained that Pascal's would be open for Bacchus Sunday, though they are dark on normal Sundays.)
We gathered on the neutral ground side of Napoleon, roughly between Pitt and Prytania. The weather was great -- warm with just a light breeze. Oshun was really pretty, with a rental float theme of "The Best of Broadway," but we noticed a new trend: generic rental floats decorated just in the front with a large figure or emblem to illustrate the theme. What a great improvement! As the weekend wore on, it turned out to be a real trend with other krewes too poor to own their own floats. We totally approve. The male and female riders were generous, but unfortunately I did not catch a cup. (Can't wait for my son to arrive, that champion cup catcher!)
Saturday had three parades, and started with Pontchartrain at 2 pm in the afternoon (an unusually late start, for whatever reason), which Big Man and I caught on St. Charles in our neighborhood, which allowed Big Man to get some studio work done beforehand. We enjoyed the krewe's appropriate Big Fish emblem, and their theme was cute too. "Can You Name That Ball?" which translated into floats whose title signs were mostly blank, so that the crowd had to figure it out for themselves -- a Carnival first, I think. A float with an oil rig on it depicted "T-a-r B-a-l-l-s;" one with a big redhead on the front was "L-u-c-i-l-l-e B-a-l-l" and so on, with meatballs, football and beach balls, among the others shown. Very clever. We caught a lot of stuff, but alas, none of the little plush fish for our grandson R in Jersey, who gets a well-stuffed post-Carnival box every year.
There were two evening parades Saturday, Sparta and Pygmalion. These I caught at our family crowd's usual parade spot on a Napoleon corner in front of a local agency that trains developmentally disabled adults. This is a very good parade spot, and riders are generally liberal with throws here, and bands almost always begin to play at or near here. (Which is why I'm being circumspect about its exact location. Sorry.) It's also mere blocks away from the lovely little house of L's friend D, who holds an annual party on the first Saturday.
Sparta's theme was another rental-type: "I Write the Songs." Once again, the floats were pretty generic, but decorated just enough in the front to illustrate the singers and songs for each float. We do love this trend -- it makes the "lesser" parades way more enjoyable. They were followed by Pygmalion, whose theme was, naturally, "It's All Greek to Me" which gave the opportunity to tip their hats to several Carnival organizations, since so many are named for Greek mythology. (I have to say, though, in loving critique, that the float for Sparta has to step up the game, as that was the ugliest Aphrodite I had ever seen. And no bosom either.)
The party at D's sweet house, with its shiny polished cement floors, its French doors out to the front courtyard (lined with ice chests full of booze), and its two en suite bathrooms, was absolutely packed with revelers, and you had to squeeze past people to get to the food on the dining room table, the wine on the kitchen counter, or one of the two bathrooms. The crowd included lots of folks who are in or who attend the infamous MOMs Ball, not to mention this year's king Fred, who was loudly hailed by the crowd on his arrival from the parade route. Conversations centered on costumes, on who still needed MOMs tickets (such folks are mostly out of luck by now), on how would future MOMs be without the Rads, and on plans for upcoming parades. As we departed for the longish walk back to L's house, we all agreed to meet back at Pascal's for more succulent salty raw oysters for Druids on Wednesday.
More later as Carnival rolls on....
The kick-off parade is Oshun on Friday. It is our tradition to start off with raw oysters at Pascal's before the parade, and so a group of us converged there about 5:15 pm. Thomas, who has been touted far and wide as "the best oyster shucker in the city" was on hand to do the honors. His title is well-deserved, and we complained that his press clippings and Internet raves were not framed behind him at the oyster bar. He modestly said it wasn't his place to promote himself, but L was insistent (and she can be both insistent and persuasive). In fact, she cornered the restaurant manager and asked about it, and he assured us that if we brought in the framed clipping, he would hang it. (L promptly assigned the research and the framing to me. After Carnival, of course.)
It was amazing how short a time it takes for Thomas to shuck 36 oysters, and perhaps just as amazing how short a time it took us to scarf them down. Showering Thomas with praise and our usual extravagant tip, we left, promising to come back for another parade. (We also ascertained that Pascal's would be open for Bacchus Sunday, though they are dark on normal Sundays.)
We gathered on the neutral ground side of Napoleon, roughly between Pitt and Prytania. The weather was great -- warm with just a light breeze. Oshun was really pretty, with a rental float theme of "The Best of Broadway," but we noticed a new trend: generic rental floats decorated just in the front with a large figure or emblem to illustrate the theme. What a great improvement! As the weekend wore on, it turned out to be a real trend with other krewes too poor to own their own floats. We totally approve. The male and female riders were generous, but unfortunately I did not catch a cup. (Can't wait for my son to arrive, that champion cup catcher!)
Saturday had three parades, and started with Pontchartrain at 2 pm in the afternoon (an unusually late start, for whatever reason), which Big Man and I caught on St. Charles in our neighborhood, which allowed Big Man to get some studio work done beforehand. We enjoyed the krewe's appropriate Big Fish emblem, and their theme was cute too. "Can You Name That Ball?" which translated into floats whose title signs were mostly blank, so that the crowd had to figure it out for themselves -- a Carnival first, I think. A float with an oil rig on it depicted "T-a-r B-a-l-l-s;" one with a big redhead on the front was "L-u-c-i-l-l-e B-a-l-l" and so on, with meatballs, football and beach balls, among the others shown. Very clever. We caught a lot of stuff, but alas, none of the little plush fish for our grandson R in Jersey, who gets a well-stuffed post-Carnival box every year.
There were two evening parades Saturday, Sparta and Pygmalion. These I caught at our family crowd's usual parade spot on a Napoleon corner in front of a local agency that trains developmentally disabled adults. This is a very good parade spot, and riders are generally liberal with throws here, and bands almost always begin to play at or near here. (Which is why I'm being circumspect about its exact location. Sorry.) It's also mere blocks away from the lovely little house of L's friend D, who holds an annual party on the first Saturday.
Sparta's theme was another rental-type: "I Write the Songs." Once again, the floats were pretty generic, but decorated just enough in the front to illustrate the singers and songs for each float. We do love this trend -- it makes the "lesser" parades way more enjoyable. They were followed by Pygmalion, whose theme was, naturally, "It's All Greek to Me" which gave the opportunity to tip their hats to several Carnival organizations, since so many are named for Greek mythology. (I have to say, though, in loving critique, that the float for Sparta has to step up the game, as that was the ugliest Aphrodite I had ever seen. And no bosom either.)
The party at D's sweet house, with its shiny polished cement floors, its French doors out to the front courtyard (lined with ice chests full of booze), and its two en suite bathrooms, was absolutely packed with revelers, and you had to squeeze past people to get to the food on the dining room table, the wine on the kitchen counter, or one of the two bathrooms. The crowd included lots of folks who are in or who attend the infamous MOMs Ball, not to mention this year's king Fred, who was loudly hailed by the crowd on his arrival from the parade route. Conversations centered on costumes, on who still needed MOMs tickets (such folks are mostly out of luck by now), on how would future MOMs be without the Rads, and on plans for upcoming parades. As we departed for the longish walk back to L's house, we all agreed to meet back at Pascal's for more succulent salty raw oysters for Druids on Wednesday.
More later as Carnival rolls on....
Beautiful Longue Vue Gardens
Last Friday, a beautiful windy spring day, my sister L and I met in the late afternoon at Longue Vue Gardens, on Bamboo Road at the very edge of Orleans Parish near the 17th Street Canal border with Jefferson. This tiny enclave of private mansions was developed in the late 1930's for wealthy New Orleanians of the non-elite class (that is, non-St. Charles Avenue types). Here Edgar and Edith Stern built their dream home with all the modern conveniences of the early 1940's, and laid out an extensive series of formal gardens and fountains. Since Edith's death in the late '70's, it has been a private museum, available for tours and sometimes private events. (You can read all about it and see photos at their website: http://www.longuevue.com/ )
Both L and I had visited Longue Vue before, but years and years before, so it felt fresh to us. The day was lovely, sunny, with fluffy clouds scudding by quickly in the wind that tossed our hair every which way. Since we had just missed a house tour (and there's only one at a time going), we strolled the Yellow Garden, the Terrace, the Sunken Garden, the Canal Garden and pavillon, the Herb Garden, the alley of oaks that led to the front door, and even the Children's Garden. We peeked into the Playhouse (which, contrary to the name, was built for adults, not kids, to accommodate large parties such as weddings) and viewed the old tennis court. It was all so lovely, even to the small details such as the way the river stones were laid along the fountain allee. Flowers that were blooming were mostly bulbs, such as narcissus, parrot tulips, crocus, and iris -- colorful and sweet-smelling. We felt our spirits lifting at all these tangible signs of spring.
We went back to the beautiful curved lower front door for the house tour to begin. Ours was a small group, just L and I plus two couples who said they were relocating from Pittsburgh. We welcomed them to the city and teased them about the weather. ("Just as nice as home, eh?" and like that.)
Either new things had been added to the tour since we had been there last, or the guide was feeling expansive as our little group was the last one of the day, because we saw details we had never seen before. We saw (but did not use) the hidden elevator, and were given a glimpse through a false door that revealed the house's inner construction. When shown the little well-fitted flower room on the first floor, the guide opened the curved drawers, showing how they pivoted outward, making them more accessible. In the formal dining room, we were shown private label wine bottles from the house's still extensive cellar (parts of the cellar will be added to the tour for the first time ever later this year -- we'll have to go back), with the Stern's name on them, to avoid the import tax. (And they say the rich pay their full share of taxes!) As always, we loved the strange multi-bud vase holders of brass and wood spread throughout the house to display specimens from the gardens (you can purchase reproductions in the gift shop.)
In the sleeping porch on the second floor, we admired the three murphy-style beds that could be raised and then rotated back into the wall when not in use. (Imagine being so wealthy that you need a separate room for napping, so you don't mess up your real bed!) While we liked Mrs. Stern's lovely French-papered and mirrored bathroom and closet, we really *loved* Mr. Stern's black marble bathroom with large corner shower. Despite its age, it looked so contemporary. We giggled at the elaborate air exchange that had been set up so that Edgar's cigars in his study would not bother Edith in the master bedroom, and we gasped in admiration at the cunning little reading light hidden in a faux stack of books on the shelf in that study, shining a tightly focused beam right in the lap of anyone sitting in the seat nearby.
The Henri Schindler Mardi Gras accessories exhibit in what had been once the mansion's kitchen on the ground floor was something of an anticlimax, and you really can't get all the way into it, as the guide is standing right there, wanting to move you onwards to finish the tour. And to tell you the truth, L and I enjoyed the little package wrapping and receiving room, with its rolls of wrapping paper and vintage hatboxes, just as much if not more. (Who doesn't want a wrapping room? I hear both New Orleans socialite and philanthropist Louella Berger and mega-millionaire Oprah have one.)
We made a big show of tipping the guide -- to prompt the out-of-towners to do the same -- and left as the group went from the main house to the Carriage House and Playhouse, since we had already done those ourselves earlier. We departed very happy, vowing to return when they open the cellar, and to bring our spouses. Big Man is a big believer in opulence and will get a big kick out of it, I know.
A lovely time. We recommend you go.
Both L and I had visited Longue Vue before, but years and years before, so it felt fresh to us. The day was lovely, sunny, with fluffy clouds scudding by quickly in the wind that tossed our hair every which way. Since we had just missed a house tour (and there's only one at a time going), we strolled the Yellow Garden, the Terrace, the Sunken Garden, the Canal Garden and pavillon, the Herb Garden, the alley of oaks that led to the front door, and even the Children's Garden. We peeked into the Playhouse (which, contrary to the name, was built for adults, not kids, to accommodate large parties such as weddings) and viewed the old tennis court. It was all so lovely, even to the small details such as the way the river stones were laid along the fountain allee. Flowers that were blooming were mostly bulbs, such as narcissus, parrot tulips, crocus, and iris -- colorful and sweet-smelling. We felt our spirits lifting at all these tangible signs of spring.
We went back to the beautiful curved lower front door for the house tour to begin. Ours was a small group, just L and I plus two couples who said they were relocating from Pittsburgh. We welcomed them to the city and teased them about the weather. ("Just as nice as home, eh?" and like that.)
Either new things had been added to the tour since we had been there last, or the guide was feeling expansive as our little group was the last one of the day, because we saw details we had never seen before. We saw (but did not use) the hidden elevator, and were given a glimpse through a false door that revealed the house's inner construction. When shown the little well-fitted flower room on the first floor, the guide opened the curved drawers, showing how they pivoted outward, making them more accessible. In the formal dining room, we were shown private label wine bottles from the house's still extensive cellar (parts of the cellar will be added to the tour for the first time ever later this year -- we'll have to go back), with the Stern's name on them, to avoid the import tax. (And they say the rich pay their full share of taxes!) As always, we loved the strange multi-bud vase holders of brass and wood spread throughout the house to display specimens from the gardens (you can purchase reproductions in the gift shop.)
In the sleeping porch on the second floor, we admired the three murphy-style beds that could be raised and then rotated back into the wall when not in use. (Imagine being so wealthy that you need a separate room for napping, so you don't mess up your real bed!) While we liked Mrs. Stern's lovely French-papered and mirrored bathroom and closet, we really *loved* Mr. Stern's black marble bathroom with large corner shower. Despite its age, it looked so contemporary. We giggled at the elaborate air exchange that had been set up so that Edgar's cigars in his study would not bother Edith in the master bedroom, and we gasped in admiration at the cunning little reading light hidden in a faux stack of books on the shelf in that study, shining a tightly focused beam right in the lap of anyone sitting in the seat nearby.
The Henri Schindler Mardi Gras accessories exhibit in what had been once the mansion's kitchen on the ground floor was something of an anticlimax, and you really can't get all the way into it, as the guide is standing right there, wanting to move you onwards to finish the tour. And to tell you the truth, L and I enjoyed the little package wrapping and receiving room, with its rolls of wrapping paper and vintage hatboxes, just as much if not more. (Who doesn't want a wrapping room? I hear both New Orleans socialite and philanthropist Louella Berger and mega-millionaire Oprah have one.)
We made a big show of tipping the guide -- to prompt the out-of-towners to do the same -- and left as the group went from the main house to the Carriage House and Playhouse, since we had already done those ourselves earlier. We departed very happy, vowing to return when they open the cellar, and to bring our spouses. Big Man is a big believer in opulence and will get a big kick out of it, I know.
A lovely time. We recommend you go.
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