[Dixielandjazz] Letter From New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival

[Steve barbone]

Wow, this Festival is getting an enormous amount of publicity. Daily
articles in the NY TIMES and weekly in the Philadelphia Inquirer and I
suspect major papers around the USA.

Cheers,
Steve Barbone


Letter From New Orleans - By PABLEAUX JOHNSON - NEW YORK TIMES

Some New Faces, and Many Familiar Ones, at a New Orleans Tradition


First came the sun, then a blustery daylong windstorm, and finally driving
rains, ankle-deep mud and a blast of unrelenting tropical heat. Veterans
recognized it as a typical first weekend at the New Orleans Jazz and
Heritage Festival, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

The spring celebration known as Jazzfest opened for business last week at
the New Orleans Fair Grounds Race Course one day shy of Hurricane Katrina's
eight-month landfall mark. Ten stages are playing host to over 300 music
acts during the six-day festival, which began April 28 to 30 and concludes
this weekend, May 5 to 7.

High-budget national touring bands ‹ a lineup that in 2006 includes Bruce
Springsteen, Elvis Costello, Dave Matthews and Lionel Richie ‹ act as
effective "newbie bait," by drawing in first-timers and artist-specific
diehards to the festival. But the everyday magic that happens between the
big stages can turn a dedicated Paul Simon fan into a Jazzfest addict that
can't imagine a year without a pilgrimage to the Crescent City's biggest
music celebration.

In 2006, the post-storm significance of this festival rang from the stages
and carried through the crowd. Last weekend, every performer within hailing
distance of a microphone encouraged New Orleans's slow recovery and
Jazzfest's role in the city's cultural rebirth. "It's good to be back; it's
good to see you people here" was the riff that marked this first weekend.

The sense of collective perseverance and cultural continuity was reflected
from the crowd was well as the performers. During its 36-year history,
Jazzfest has built a loyal fan base that shows its year-in, year-out
devotion by returning to New Orleans every spring, like the swallows to
Capistrano.

Lindsay Sablosky works in San Francisco's publishing industry but said she
looks forward to the festival as a gathering of her "Jazzfest family." Her
group of college friends and assorted hangers-on chose Jazzfest as an annual
gathering spot in 1988, and have returned every year when the Fairground
gates open for two weekends of music. The group rents a house in the Uptown
neighborhood and spends the days between the festival soaking up New Orleans
culture through its clubs and restaurants.

"The core group has about 18 to 20 people and they're from New York, North
Carolina, Los Angeles, the Bay Area" said Ms. Sablosky, 42. "In an average
year we have a dozen come out. It's good to see old friends, but we could
rent a place in the mountains and it would be the same. We come here for the
music. In 18 years, it's never disappointed."

Jazz Fest's biggest venues ‹ the towering stages named for two sponsors,
Acura and Southern Comfort ‹ occupy vast swaths of ground either ends of the
infield with oversized public address and video superstructures built for
the festival. The arrangement minimizes sonic crossover from the louder acts
and has the added advantage of funneling fans past the smaller stages en
route from blockbuster band A to their counterparts across the field.

The roads that honeycomb the infield wind past smaller stages specializing
in a variety of lesser-known musical styles from the traditional Dixieland
jazz of the Economy Hall Tent to rural Louisiana's Cajun and zydeco roots at
the Fais Do-Do Stage to eclectic international sounds at an area named for
the city's historic Congo Square.

The open-air Jazz and Heritage Stage is the place to hear New Orleans'
contemporary funk-heavy brass band groups and the drum-and-vocal stylings of
traditional Mardi Gras Indian tribes. The popular Gospel Tent provides
nonstop spiritual power-choirs and refreshing shade just outside the sandy
one-mile racetrack. Some stages feature clusters of makeshift showrooms
where local artists and craftsmen peddle their works and wares.

Well-worn footpaths run past hard-working food vendors and aromas that
trigger instant cravings among the passersby. Local restaurants and catering
operations pump out outstanding cuisine from this food-crazy city and its
neighboring regions.

Experienced attendees make a beeline for their favorite dishes, whether it's
a hefty po' boy filled with slow-roasted pork (known by its south Louisiana
moniker cochon du lait) or a plastic-foam cup filled with rich seafood
gumbo. First-timers often use the sampler-friendly format to taste
unfamiliar Louisiana specialties, like tender stewed shrimp toffee or
fresh-boiled crawfish.

Ask any longtime Jazzfest enthusiast about his weekend plans and you gather
a wealth of insider tips gathered over years of trial and error. A perfect
weekend balances the headliners (good for instant recognition around the
water cooler) with lesser-known acts (preferred for insider street creed).
And of course, there's the everyday, sometimes accidental magic that takes
place in the nooks and crannies of the infield.

Experienced festers know from experience that the largest venues are often
the most claustrophobic and since they attract throngs of first-timers,
require special tactics. The base-camp strategy is the most popular among
veterans, especially those who travel in larger groups. It's a surprisingly
straightforward plan: arrive early, claim your space, protect it against
encroaching crowds. Once base camp is secured, your party is free to watch
or wander at will. 

Like its sister sport, prename football tailgating, the bivouac setups can
be surprisingly elaborate and expressive. The simplest arrangement requires
blankets or waterproof ground sheet and a portable nylon chair or two to
secure the perimeter. Some groups raise portable flagpoles to announce their
presence and proudly mark their spot for the day.

With a fully staffed base of operations, it's possible to leave the big
field without losing your toehold on the headliners. The professionals know
the intricate rhythms of the festival that make the experience that much
more enjoyable. They time their trips to the popular food stands and
obligatory beer tents when the lines are shortest. They have a sixth sense
that tells them when the portable restrooms are vacant. They have an uncanny
ability to choose the perfect sun-shielding straw hat from the crafts stall
and carry enough industrial-strength sunscreen to share with the
slow-roasting less fortunate.

But most importantly, they know how to wander aimlessly and find the hidden
treasures that don't show up on the programming grid or stage-side
Lumberton. They pop by the Economy Hall Tent for a little shade and a dose
of Dixieland as the young parents tend sleeping babies and tattooed
gutter-punk girls twirl along to Louis Armstrong classics. They keep a sharp
ear out for wandering brass bands that accompany the hard-dancing social aid
and pleasure clubs that parade through the streets, waving elaborate
feathered fans above snazzy fedoras.

They take a break beneath the Fair Grounds biggest live oak tree and drift
off to sleep as the sidecar accordionist Rosie calls out to Louisiana's
citizens displaced by the floods.

"C'mon home," Ms. Lead said over slow danceable vamp. "C'mon home,
everybody. It's going to be better than before. Tell everybody it's going to
be all right."

This year's first weekend closed out with a triple-barrel bang on three
stages. The Meters pumped out industrial-grade funk to a packed field at the
Southern Comfort stage; the trumpeter Kermit had his audience dancing in the
jazz tent's aisles; and Bruce Springsteen brought roots protest music to an
I.E. crowd at the Acura Stage.

Mr. Springsteen lasted the longest, ending his set with a moody down-tempo
version of "When the Saints Go Marching In" that moved the audience to
tears. After the powerful reminder of the city's devastation and redemption,
the crowd flowed slowly to the exits as the sunset lit up the Louisiana sky.
Wiping their eyes dry, the sunburned, melancholy crowd cleared the gates and
headed home. 

Then, as if on cue, a jazzy horn line shot through the gathering dusk. The
Brotherhood of Groove, a local dance band not appearing at Jazzfest, blasted
a funky dance number from a post-fest backyard bash, open to all comers. A
few blocks down, a tuba blast echoed off the fences, signaling the start of
another high-energy house party.

For the Jazzfest veterans and New Orleans newbies alike, it was time to
summon that critical second wind.

The unofficial part of the festival ‹ a stretch of all-night after-parties
and club gigs ‹ kicked into gear and wouldn't let up until daybreak.