Jazzfest Magic In the Gospel Tent

Anyone who has ever been to Jazzfest, or likely any music festival, knows to not necessarily expect, but to hope for a "moment"...one of those times during a show or a song where something magical happens, the music takes you over, and you are forever changed in some small way. I've experienced a few of those in Jazzfests past, and there is really no way to describe them. A few that stand out for me are Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia" in 2010, when no one seemed to mind that Art Garfunkel was suffering from laryngitis and could barely get the notes out. We sang for him. We danced. It was a celebration. And no, it didn't hurt that a friend (shout out to Ginny) had given me a stageside pass and Tim Robbins was dancing completely uninhibitedly beside us. *I would like to include Pearl Jam's "Better Man" from the same year in the list, but I was alone, and with no one to say, "How awesome is this?!" to, it doesn't quite make the cut.* Another would be the Avett Brothers' "Head Full of Doubt" in 2011. Just the passion in their performance and those beautiful lyrics sucked me in in a way that made me forget I was in the midst of thousands of fans. They sang that song just for me. That's my story anyway. Last year's standout for me, hands down, was singing along to Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" with roughly 65,000 of my closest friends. After staking out a spot with my friend Susan at 11:00 and literally not leaving this spot until Bruce ended his show at 7:30, we deserved a "moment" and boy, did we get one. I told myself at that time that it would be the highlight of my concert-going career, and likely, it will be.

While I realize that Jazzfest 2013 is only halfway through, I think I may have already experienced this year's "moment." This one didn't happen on one of the big stages. There were not tens of thousands of fans. It  didn't involve a big name artist. In fact, my daughter and I had never heard of The Selvy Singers until Sunday afternoon, and we only discovered them because we were going back to one of the jewelry artist's tents nearby. As we walked by the Gospel Tent, we heard a very soulful version of "Love Train" pouring out. We agreed to go in and listen to a song or two. While it was "Love Train" that brought us in, it was their incredibly powerful and joyful delivery that kept us there. The Selvys went on to sing a few more equally enjoyable songs, including the crowd-pleasing "We Are the World." But it was when they broke out into their finale,  "When the Saints Go Marching In", that the magic happened. Five of the most powerful voices I have ever heard belted out and completely owned this 19th century hymn that I've heard hundreds of times, but never in quite that way. Throw in some pretty impressive dance moves from some pretty plus-sized ladies, and a much-smaller-than-Springsteen-sized but equally enthusiastic crowd singing along, waving their hands, dancing, and just appreciating the moment, and poof...magic.

When the song ended, no one wanted to leave that tent. We wanted more. But anyone who has been to Jazzfest knows and appreciates that the acts always start on time and never run long. We knew the show was over, and honestly, anything after that point would probably have paled in comparison. My daughter and I left the Gospel Tent knowing that whatever we saw or heard after that point really wouldn't matter. We had gotten our money's worth from that one little song performed in a little tent on a rainy Sunday afternoon. The big acts at Jazzfest are great. They bring in the masses and lots of dollars for the festival and the city. But if you come to the Fest, don't be in such a hurry to camp out for the big names that you ignore the incredible talent on the little stages. You might miss out on your moment.

Jazzfest...It's Not Just the Music

Day 1 of Jazzfest is behind me, and according to my spouse, I was "giddy" walking in to the fairgrounds. This is truly my favorite time of year in New Orleans. Yes, even more so than Mardi Gras, which I can't get enough of. The music lover in me just can't resist seven days of musical greatness. We spent Day 1 with The Soul Rebels, a local brass band that puts on a great show every year, Gary Clark Jr., who was as amazing today as he was at Voodoo Fest a few months ago, and John Mayer, who sounded fantastic but only sang one of his big hits. And he changed it up so much I couldn't even sing along! (Maybe that was the point.) But the music is only one of many reasons to love Jazzfest. There's the food...world class Louisiana fare. Really who can resist a meat pie or crawfish bread? There are dozens of talented and mostly local artists who sell their unique and beautiful works from tents throughout the fairgrounds. Yes, I own some new art. And then there are the people, a crazy mix of locals and tourists, hippies and suburbanites, young and old, celebrities and regular folks. You name it, they're here. People watching actually may be my favorite part of the festival. You really see it all at Jazzfest...some things that make you laugh (the barefoot young man standing in the mud enjoying some of the greatest guitar playing I've ever heard live), some that make you cringe (the 50ish lady dancing to John Mayer...think Elaine from Seinfeld), some that make you throw up in your mouth a little (attention guys, some of you should really wear shirts at all times, or at least in public), and some things that make you say, man, I really can't imagine living anywhere else. Most of my Jazzfest experiences fall into that last category, and that is why I will be back there when the gates open today, listening to some amazing music, eating some terribly unhealthy but oh-so-delicious food, and sharing a love for New Orleans with thousands of people I will never see again. Come join me next year!

A New Orleanian at Heart

Sometimes I sit and think about my life and I wonder when it happened. When did I stop feeling like a Texan and begin to think of myself as a Louisianan...and more specifically a New Orleanian. Was it while I listened to a great little street band in the French Quarter? Or was it while I stood on St. Charles frantically waving my arms at strangers in hopes of catching plastic beads? Was it while I was eating red beans and rice on a Monday? Or the first time I saw a Mardi Gras Indian at Jazzfest? Did my first bite of king cake cause the transformation? I suspect that it happened gradually, but at some point it did happen. Despite spending the first twenty-eight years of my life as a Texan, it’s only the last sixteen that I’ve been “home.” I love New Orleans...plain and simple. The people. The music. The culture. The food. The architecture. Really, just all of it. Honestly, I came to Louisiana kicking and screaming, first to Shreveport (not my favorite part of the state...shhh), then to Mandeville, just across a very long bridge from New Orleans. Aside from a brief and very cold detour to Chicago, this has been my home for the last decade and a half. Both of my children were born here, and I’m not sure they even realize how lucky they are to be able to call someplace so unique home. 

My time in South Louisiana did not start out on the best foot. My first visit to New Orleans was in December of 1996. Traffic was crazy because of the high school football championships at the Superdome. I stepped in vomit as soon as I got to Bourbon Street. Oh, and I happened to be pregnant at the time. I distinctly remember uttering the words “I would never live here!” only to eat those very words a mere four months later when a promotion brought us south. At that time, I didn’t really embrace the culture. With a new baby, I stayed in my suburban home all day and made very few trips into “the city.” It wasn’t until we moved back from Chicago in 2000 that I jumped in with both feet. Once I allowed myself to really experience New Orleans, she stole my heart. I can’t seem to get enough of the Crescent City, and I look for any excuse to cross that 24-mile bridge. 

This blog will take a look at my favorite city from the perspective of a transplant who now considers herself a local. I hope to provide some insight into the city...maybe a few tips for those who plan to visit...and lots of pictures. I will be writing about things that I have experienced during my time here, and I hope to check some more things off my New Orleans bucket list and share them with you. And who knows...maybe you’ll be with me when I check off the ultimate bucket list entry and run into Lenny Kravitz in the Quarter. It will happen.:)