Friday, April 27, 2012
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Michael Arata
Michael's photoshoot was just great and so much fun! The combination of a fantastic actor (one of his many talents!) with that particular wall made for a wonderful photo (or rather photoS!) And what was really awesome was Michael's willingness to play the game without holding back (it was the first time we met.)
The wall is part of a majestic building on Esplanade, which is being fixed up (and maybe finished?) for, I believe, a movie studio (or something that has to do with movies).
Needless to say, I was very happy with Michael's pictures; yet the thing that really got me is the story he shared. It gave me goose bumps it's so moving. Also, the way he related the story was very real: as I was listening to him, I felt like I was there in that boarding school, and I was there on that airplane; yet I didn't expect what happened at the end of the story...
The wall is part of a majestic building on Esplanade, which is being fixed up (and maybe finished?) for, I believe, a movie studio (or something that has to do with movies).
Needless to say, I was very happy with Michael's pictures; yet the thing that really got me is the story he shared. It gave me goose bumps it's so moving. Also, the way he related the story was very real: as I was listening to him, I felt like I was there in that boarding school, and I was there on that airplane; yet I didn't expect what happened at the end of the story...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Jac Currie
Before getting into the story behind this shoot, I want to publicly apologize to Jac for misspelling his last name in the table of contents of the book... (I called him right away when I found out —I was mortified— and he was very gracious about it.) So Jac, sorry about the typo, and thank you for being so cool about it!
Jac's photoshoot was one of the most amazing of the project. The building was absolutely incredible, and it didn't hurt that Jac was a perfect fit.
I discovered Jac by way of Facebook, somehow stumbling upon the Defend New Orleans page. After a little search, I found who was behind this organization "dedicated to celebrating, preserving, and promoting New Orleans culture" (check it out: www.defendneworleans.com), and sent Jac a message. He not only responded, but he also immediately agreed to pose for the project.
A few weeks later, I was driving around my old neighborhood on Magazine Street when I came across a huge construction site occupying an entire block. It was all fenced in, but I looked in just as I passed by an open gate and couldn't believe what I saw: graffiti, after graffiti, after graffiti! I parked the car and found one of the workers, who after hearing my request (huh, could I please come in and take photos of someone in front of one of these walls?) called the site manager. He, of course, turned me down. Darn! But I couldn't give up. I did find out that the building had some sort of connection with the film industry, so I called a friend, and another friend, and eventually found out who the owner was. The next step was to call my Fairy Godmother who, once again, worked her magic: within the next hour, I had gotten permission from Susan Brennan (THANK YOU, Susan!!), and was invited to go in the next day.
The inside of the building was even more amazing than what I had seen:
I think Jac was just as amazed as I was...
Jac's photoshoot was one of the most amazing of the project. The building was absolutely incredible, and it didn't hurt that Jac was a perfect fit.
I discovered Jac by way of Facebook, somehow stumbling upon the Defend New Orleans page. After a little search, I found who was behind this organization "dedicated to celebrating, preserving, and promoting New Orleans culture" (check it out: www.defendneworleans.com), and sent Jac a message. He not only responded, but he also immediately agreed to pose for the project.
A few weeks later, I was driving around my old neighborhood on Magazine Street when I came across a huge construction site occupying an entire block. It was all fenced in, but I looked in just as I passed by an open gate and couldn't believe what I saw: graffiti, after graffiti, after graffiti! I parked the car and found one of the workers, who after hearing my request (huh, could I please come in and take photos of someone in front of one of these walls?) called the site manager. He, of course, turned me down. Darn! But I couldn't give up. I did find out that the building had some sort of connection with the film industry, so I called a friend, and another friend, and eventually found out who the owner was. The next step was to call my Fairy Godmother who, once again, worked her magic: within the next hour, I had gotten permission from Susan Brennan (THANK YOU, Susan!!), and was invited to go in the next day.
The inside of the building was even more amazing than what I had seen:
I think Jac was just as amazed as I was...
Friday, July 15, 2011
Ben Sandmel
Ben Sandmel is a musician, a writer, and a story teller (among other talents). The story he shared for the New Orleans Walls book is one of my favorites, very visual and so comical!
I met Ben years ago when I was working at Ultrasonic Studios in New Orleans, where he would come by as a journalist to write about recording sessions, and also as a producer to work on the Hackberry Ramblers albums and documentary film. He also played on one or two sessions there.
We lost touch years ago but were reconnected by way of my Fairy Godmother (Haydée Ellis) and ended up meeting in one not so safe Mid-City neighborhood in April 2009. With all the textures and colors, there was definitely no shortage of walls in that part of town. So much life and feelings!
I don't think I can say enough how grateful I am to all the people who agreed to pose for the project, from the legendary Fats Domino to the sweet Miss Lily, and all other 80+ in between, including, Ben, who accepted to "act" along:
I met Ben years ago when I was working at Ultrasonic Studios in New Orleans, where he would come by as a journalist to write about recording sessions, and also as a producer to work on the Hackberry Ramblers albums and documentary film. He also played on one or two sessions there.
We lost touch years ago but were reconnected by way of my Fairy Godmother (Haydée Ellis) and ended up meeting in one not so safe Mid-City neighborhood in April 2009. With all the textures and colors, there was definitely no shortage of walls in that part of town. So much life and feelings!
I don't think I can say enough how grateful I am to all the people who agreed to pose for the project, from the legendary Fats Domino to the sweet Miss Lily, and all other 80+ in between, including, Ben, who accepted to "act" along:
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Roger Lewis
On the first weekend of Jazz Fest in 2009, I was hoping to somehow meet Dave Matthews (that's another long story I'll pass on...); instead, I was lucky to find Roger Lewis, the amazing saxophone player of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band. He very kindly accepted to pose for the New Orleans Walls project, and we arranged to meet the following day at his house. Finding a "wall' in his neighborhood was a bit challenging, but I eventually spotted a garage door: when I saw this "wall", the thought of New Orleans being under-water during Katrina somehow hit me for good: I literally saw bubbles, then had the idea of trying to get Roger to pretend he was holding his breath —and blocking his nose— under water (you can see the picture of him holding his nose on Facebook).
I happened to snap a picture right when Roger let go of his hand, and I loved the intensity of his look so much that I decided to use that last picture for the book.
On the — short!— drive back to Roger's house, I asked him to start thinking about a specific moment of his life (my plan was to meet him at a later time, when we both had more time, to record his story.) Well, we ended up talking for about 45 minutes, and I so wish I had had a tape recorder then! Roger talked about his son's death in a very beautiful and touching way. Since I didn't feel I could do him justice by just writing from memory, we met again about a year later. However, we didn't get to talk about his son again, but the story that ended up in the book is quite funny and insightful.
I happened to snap a picture right when Roger let go of his hand, and I loved the intensity of his look so much that I decided to use that last picture for the book.
On the — short!— drive back to Roger's house, I asked him to start thinking about a specific moment of his life (my plan was to meet him at a later time, when we both had more time, to record his story.) Well, we ended up talking for about 45 minutes, and I so wish I had had a tape recorder then! Roger talked about his son's death in a very beautiful and touching way. Since I didn't feel I could do him justice by just writing from memory, we met again about a year later. However, we didn't get to talk about his son again, but the story that ended up in the book is quite funny and insightful.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Catching up...
It seems like "New Orleans Walls" has gone to a halt since my return from New Orleans last April. Being self-published is very demanding, but not financially viable (at least not yet!), so when paying jobs surface I take the plunge, which I actually don't mind at all since I love what I do for a living (I get paid to take pictures!!) Unfortunately in the meantime, there is no promotion department taking over and blogging all over the internet about the book. I wish... There is so much more to share about the project and I just have to accept, once again, that going with the flow is the rule!
So I'll start over where I left it almost 4 months ago:
HAYDEE ELLIS.
Meet my Fairy Godmother. I didn't even know I had one until our lives crossed paths by chance. Haydée just makes things happen. It started with Fats Domino (she's a good friend of his), and it didn't stop there. What's more, her heart is as big as her wand!
Pianist Tom McDermott introduced us by way of email in March of 2009, and it's one of those relationships that just took off as if it had always been there. We hadn't even met in person that she was already willing to help. After I took Fats' picture, she was the first person I called, although we still hadn't met yet.
Haydée is also a wonderful visual artist and pianist, and a true New Orleans character. Needless to say, I was delighted when she agreed to pose for the project. We met for the first time on the day of the photoshoot, and she was as I had pictured her: warm, fun, beautiful, down-to-earth... just plain wonderful! "Her" wall was just a few blocks from her daughter's house in the lower Garden District. I didn't have a specific idea when I picked the wall, but putting Haydée in front of it, combined with how I was feeling that day (floating in happiness), was enough to get a photo in just a few minutes:
So I'll start over where I left it almost 4 months ago:
HAYDEE ELLIS.
Meet my Fairy Godmother. I didn't even know I had one until our lives crossed paths by chance. Haydée just makes things happen. It started with Fats Domino (she's a good friend of his), and it didn't stop there. What's more, her heart is as big as her wand!
Pianist Tom McDermott introduced us by way of email in March of 2009, and it's one of those relationships that just took off as if it had always been there. We hadn't even met in person that she was already willing to help. After I took Fats' picture, she was the first person I called, although we still hadn't met yet.
Haydée is also a wonderful visual artist and pianist, and a true New Orleans character. Needless to say, I was delighted when she agreed to pose for the project. We met for the first time on the day of the photoshoot, and she was as I had pictured her: warm, fun, beautiful, down-to-earth... just plain wonderful! "Her" wall was just a few blocks from her daughter's house in the lower Garden District. I didn't have a specific idea when I picked the wall, but putting Haydée in front of it, combined with how I was feeling that day (floating in happiness), was enough to get a photo in just a few minutes:
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Irene Sage
March 10, 2009.
A lot of people helped in different ways during the New Orleans Walls project, but a few made it simply possible. Irene and her husband Scott Conklin are some of those. Irene might be sometimes hard to reach, but when you've got her... well, she'll do anything to help.
When we finally connected again (after not seeing each-other for about 8 years), she just went all over: she called a bunch of people to pose, connected me with Zack Rosenburg of the St Bernard Project, and offered me a place to stay as well as her car! Since I have been running on a very small budget, having a free car made all the difference: it truly allowed me to finish the project (I stayed at Irene's three times, each visit lasting two weeks — do the math, that's A LOT of savings in car rentals!)
Now, that being said, even if I had not stayed at Irene's I would have wanted to have her in the book: that girl can sing! She has one of the most amazing voices I have ever heard!
When I went to her house on that night of March 10, 2009 to take her picture with daughter Sidney, it was late, the light was getting dim, but I still decided to give it a try (after all, I had just taken Fats Domino's photo, so at that point, anything seemed possible!)
The picture that came out is another one that was graced by one of those magical moments I encountered throughout the project, in the way its' movement harmonized with the wall. I have to confess here that this wall is the only one in the book that is not technically in New Orleans (it's in Arabi). However, it used to be a part of the city, and that was good enough for me.
The next morning, I left New Orleans feeling uplifted (no pun intended!)
As the plane took off at 7:30AM, I looked out the window and saw one of the most beautiful misty sunrises over the Crescent City...
A lot of people helped in different ways during the New Orleans Walls project, but a few made it simply possible. Irene and her husband Scott Conklin are some of those. Irene might be sometimes hard to reach, but when you've got her... well, she'll do anything to help.
When we finally connected again (after not seeing each-other for about 8 years), she just went all over: she called a bunch of people to pose, connected me with Zack Rosenburg of the St Bernard Project, and offered me a place to stay as well as her car! Since I have been running on a very small budget, having a free car made all the difference: it truly allowed me to finish the project (I stayed at Irene's three times, each visit lasting two weeks — do the math, that's A LOT of savings in car rentals!)
Now, that being said, even if I had not stayed at Irene's I would have wanted to have her in the book: that girl can sing! She has one of the most amazing voices I have ever heard!
When I went to her house on that night of March 10, 2009 to take her picture with daughter Sidney, it was late, the light was getting dim, but I still decided to give it a try (after all, I had just taken Fats Domino's photo, so at that point, anything seemed possible!)
The picture that came out is another one that was graced by one of those magical moments I encountered throughout the project, in the way its' movement harmonized with the wall. I have to confess here that this wall is the only one in the book that is not technically in New Orleans (it's in Arabi). However, it used to be a part of the city, and that was good enough for me.
The next morning, I left New Orleans feeling uplifted (no pun intended!)
As the plane took off at 7:30AM, I looked out the window and saw one of the most beautiful misty sunrises over the Crescent City...
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Sallie Ann Glassman
March 10, 2009.
One thing I have found really amazing with this project is the ease with which most people have accepted to pose. Sallie was no exception. Alright, she's a voodoo priestress, so maybe she knew things I didn't know... Still, she was very graceful about the whole process; she even took me to a fantastic wall: in a Marigny alley is this amazing fence painted with Papa Gede and other spirits. This was the only wall Sallie was allowed to be photographed in front of wearing black!
By noon, I was done with the picture, and impatiently waited for Fats Domino's daughter to call. All I had to do was clean up the house and pack. My plane was leaving the next day at 7:30am.
One thing I have found really amazing with this project is the ease with which most people have accepted to pose. Sallie was no exception. Alright, she's a voodoo priestress, so maybe she knew things I didn't know... Still, she was very graceful about the whole process; she even took me to a fantastic wall: in a Marigny alley is this amazing fence painted with Papa Gede and other spirits. This was the only wall Sallie was allowed to be photographed in front of wearing black!
By noon, I was done with the picture, and impatiently waited for Fats Domino's daughter to call. All I had to do was clean up the house and pack. My plane was leaving the next day at 7:30am.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Eddie Bo
March 9, 2009.
Eddie was all smiles the day I took his picture. The wall I found for him was just around the corner from his uptown house, and had a great Katrina significance (Although the New Orleans Walls book is not about Katrina — hence the absence of direct Katrina stories— the storm has had such an impact on the people — thus becoming a part of the local culture — that I felt it had to be somehow referred to in the book). For that reason, it was important to get a rather serious photo, but again, Eddie was all smiles, which made my goal a little tricky to reach. Eventually, I got what I wanted.
This was the last picture of Eddie. Ten days later, he had a massive heart attack. During a later trip, his sister shared with me that Eddie had been looking forward to the photo shoot, and that he purposely chose the cap with the Fleur de Lys. Although I didn't want anything distracting from the wall on the models' clothing, I made an exception for Eddie and didn't photoshop the emblem out.
I will always remember the last time I saw Eddie, when he entered his house and closed the iron door. He had a big smile on his face...
Fats Domino's daughter called me that night to inquire about the New Orleans Walls project. She listened to me carefully, then finally said, "I will call you tomorrow morning after his doctor's appointment. We'll see if he's up to it."
I DID hold my breath...
Eddie was all smiles the day I took his picture. The wall I found for him was just around the corner from his uptown house, and had a great Katrina significance (Although the New Orleans Walls book is not about Katrina — hence the absence of direct Katrina stories— the storm has had such an impact on the people — thus becoming a part of the local culture — that I felt it had to be somehow referred to in the book). For that reason, it was important to get a rather serious photo, but again, Eddie was all smiles, which made my goal a little tricky to reach. Eventually, I got what I wanted.
This was the last picture of Eddie. Ten days later, he had a massive heart attack. During a later trip, his sister shared with me that Eddie had been looking forward to the photo shoot, and that he purposely chose the cap with the Fleur de Lys. Although I didn't want anything distracting from the wall on the models' clothing, I made an exception for Eddie and didn't photoshop the emblem out.
I will always remember the last time I saw Eddie, when he entered his house and closed the iron door. He had a big smile on his face...
Fats Domino's daughter called me that night to inquire about the New Orleans Walls project. She listened to me carefully, then finally said, "I will call you tomorrow morning after his doctor's appointment. We'll see if he's up to it."
I DID hold my breath...
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Irma Thomas
March 9, 2009.
When I called Irma with Jan Ramsey's good word, it didn't take her long to nonchalantly accept to pose for the project. At that time, a friend was letting me use his car, but I didn't know for sure when it would be available. So Irma kindly offered to pick me up and drive to the French Quarter where I had spotted a couple of walls on Dauphine Street (Irma lives several miles away from the French Quarter, in New Orleans East).
In the first wall, I could see a face (a little scary, but still...) and was trying to get some sort of an interaction between Irma and the "face" (upper right on the photo).
Then I decided to move one house over to the right and snapped a few more pictures. All along, I was talking to Irma while taking pictures, which she didn't realize, so by the time I was done, she thought we hadn't started yet!
Irma's photo for the book came from the second wall. As soon as I applied the double-exposure, I knew it was a keeper. However, I didn't know how Irma would react to it (it's purposely blurry and you can't see her face all that well). So when I went back a few months later to get her story, I showed her the photo and thankfully she was fine with it (By-the-way, not everyone got to see their photo before the book came out).
Irma is another one of those who knew exactly which story they would share for the book. With all the "models" I tried as much as possible to get stories everyone could somehow relate to, hence avoiding the "fame" thing. This wasn't an issue with Irma. I found her to be humble and straight forward. In the last paragraph of her story, Irma shares that getting her diploma was more important to her than winning her Grammy Award. I was all packed up and ready to go when she said that, but the comment made such an impression on me that I took my little recorder out again and asked her to repeat the phrase. It's written in the book just as it came out of her mouth.
When I called Irma with Jan Ramsey's good word, it didn't take her long to nonchalantly accept to pose for the project. At that time, a friend was letting me use his car, but I didn't know for sure when it would be available. So Irma kindly offered to pick me up and drive to the French Quarter where I had spotted a couple of walls on Dauphine Street (Irma lives several miles away from the French Quarter, in New Orleans East).
In the first wall, I could see a face (a little scary, but still...) and was trying to get some sort of an interaction between Irma and the "face" (upper right on the photo).
Then I decided to move one house over to the right and snapped a few more pictures. All along, I was talking to Irma while taking pictures, which she didn't realize, so by the time I was done, she thought we hadn't started yet!
Irma's photo for the book came from the second wall. As soon as I applied the double-exposure, I knew it was a keeper. However, I didn't know how Irma would react to it (it's purposely blurry and you can't see her face all that well). So when I went back a few months later to get her story, I showed her the photo and thankfully she was fine with it (By-the-way, not everyone got to see their photo before the book came out).
Irma is another one of those who knew exactly which story they would share for the book. With all the "models" I tried as much as possible to get stories everyone could somehow relate to, hence avoiding the "fame" thing. This wasn't an issue with Irma. I found her to be humble and straight forward. In the last paragraph of her story, Irma shares that getting her diploma was more important to her than winning her Grammy Award. I was all packed up and ready to go when she said that, but the comment made such an impression on me that I took my little recorder out again and asked her to repeat the phrase. It's written in the book just as it came out of her mouth.
Friday, February 25, 2011
March 8, 2009 — part 1.
March 8, 2009, turned out to be a particularly busy day, with 5 photo shoots planned between 11am and 6:30pm, from the French Quarter, to the 9th ward, to uptown, and to the West Bank.
As much as I stayed quite isolated during my first trip to New Orleans a few months earlier, this second visit was an excuse to reconnect with old friends. John Autin, pianist and owner of Rabadash Records, is one of those. The day I went to visit him and his wife Jill, Lindsay Mendez, the youngest recording artist to be signed by the New Orleans-based label, was in the studio with her dad. When John told them about the New Orleans Walls project, they both let me know immediately they'd love for Lindsay to be a part of it.
Two days later, we met in the French Quarter. It had to be a sunny day for the photo I had in mind to work. Lindsay showed up with her mom at 11:00am as planned, wearing a black dress. The sun was out and the photo turned out great (once you see it in the book, you'll understand).
The next stop was in the Upper 9th ward, at the Musicians Village where Little Freddie King lives. I met Freddie years ago when I worked for Orleans Records producer Carlo Ditta. Freddie is as sweet as can be, always has a smile on his face (at least every single time I visited him), but is hard to track down when you live in North Idaho. Since I was in town, I just showed up at his gig, and the next day, I picked him up at his place. Freddie was ready for the photo, all dressed in black, with a chain full of keys hanging down almost to his knees. I had spotted a cemetery wall not far from the Musicians Village, which is where we headed for. The photo shoot took a mere 3 minutes.
When I returned several months later to get his story, Freddie knew exactly what moment of his life he was going to share, and yet it's a story his manager had never heard before.
Day to be continued...
note: in case you haven't read any of the past posts, the pictures shown here are not the ones featured in the New Orleans Walls book.
As much as I stayed quite isolated during my first trip to New Orleans a few months earlier, this second visit was an excuse to reconnect with old friends. John Autin, pianist and owner of Rabadash Records, is one of those. The day I went to visit him and his wife Jill, Lindsay Mendez, the youngest recording artist to be signed by the New Orleans-based label, was in the studio with her dad. When John told them about the New Orleans Walls project, they both let me know immediately they'd love for Lindsay to be a part of it.
Two days later, we met in the French Quarter. It had to be a sunny day for the photo I had in mind to work. Lindsay showed up with her mom at 11:00am as planned, wearing a black dress. The sun was out and the photo turned out great (once you see it in the book, you'll understand).
The next stop was in the Upper 9th ward, at the Musicians Village where Little Freddie King lives. I met Freddie years ago when I worked for Orleans Records producer Carlo Ditta. Freddie is as sweet as can be, always has a smile on his face (at least every single time I visited him), but is hard to track down when you live in North Idaho. Since I was in town, I just showed up at his gig, and the next day, I picked him up at his place. Freddie was ready for the photo, all dressed in black, with a chain full of keys hanging down almost to his knees. I had spotted a cemetery wall not far from the Musicians Village, which is where we headed for. The photo shoot took a mere 3 minutes.
When I returned several months later to get his story, Freddie knew exactly what moment of his life he was going to share, and yet it's a story his manager had never heard before.
Day to be continued...
note: in case you haven't read any of the past posts, the pictures shown here are not the ones featured in the New Orleans Walls book.
March 8, 2009 — part 2.
An hour after taking Little Freddie King's picture, I was uptown, knocking on Guitar Slim, Jr. door.
Most of the appointments I had during those five trips to New Orleans between September 2008 and May 2010 had to be scheduled just a few days before, if not the day of the photo shoot. I'd call people from Sandpoint to make arrangements, and most of the time I'd be asked, "Are you in town?" to which I responded, " Not yet." And I would be told, "Oh, then call back when you're in town!" Does that sound familiar?? Eventually, I got used to it, and for some reason, it all worked out.
Most people who see Guitar Slim's wall picture for the first time have a strong reaction to it. As far as I'm concerned, I think his story is pretty powerful. It's definitely out there (some people would say crazy!) but I will tell you this: he didn't make it up for me. The way he shared his story was real and sincere. He even took me to the house where it happened!
By the time I got to June Yamagishi's house, I was starting to feel tired, and was hoping to get some action shot to kind of wake up. As I drove by June's lower Garden District neighborhood, I found the ideal wall: bright red and black, perfectly alive. Now, I hadn't met June yet, and for some reason I thought the guy was in his 20's. Turns out he's more in his 50's, so when I first saw him I thought my plans wouldn't work out. As delicately as possible, I asked how his health was (I know, that's tacky — but I was on a mission!) and as only he can say it, June responded "good, good!"
Well, he took me by surprise: the guy could jump alright, higher than anticipated:
The day ended on the West Bank, by Algiers Point where John Autin lives. I never went to that neighborhood while living in New Orleans, but if I ever were to move back, I would seriously consider Algiers Point. The view to New Orleans is so beautiful, and the French Quarter is just a Ferry ride away. I love it!!
Back to Autin. That crumbling wall must have been waiting for us before giving way to gravity. Of course, it's no longer standing, but I'm so glad I was able to capture it.
Most of the appointments I had during those five trips to New Orleans between September 2008 and May 2010 had to be scheduled just a few days before, if not the day of the photo shoot. I'd call people from Sandpoint to make arrangements, and most of the time I'd be asked, "Are you in town?" to which I responded, " Not yet." And I would be told, "Oh, then call back when you're in town!" Does that sound familiar?? Eventually, I got used to it, and for some reason, it all worked out.
Most people who see Guitar Slim's wall picture for the first time have a strong reaction to it. As far as I'm concerned, I think his story is pretty powerful. It's definitely out there (some people would say crazy!) but I will tell you this: he didn't make it up for me. The way he shared his story was real and sincere. He even took me to the house where it happened!
By the time I got to June Yamagishi's house, I was starting to feel tired, and was hoping to get some action shot to kind of wake up. As I drove by June's lower Garden District neighborhood, I found the ideal wall: bright red and black, perfectly alive. Now, I hadn't met June yet, and for some reason I thought the guy was in his 20's. Turns out he's more in his 50's, so when I first saw him I thought my plans wouldn't work out. As delicately as possible, I asked how his health was (I know, that's tacky — but I was on a mission!) and as only he can say it, June responded "good, good!"
Well, he took me by surprise: the guy could jump alright, higher than anticipated:
The day ended on the West Bank, by Algiers Point where John Autin lives. I never went to that neighborhood while living in New Orleans, but if I ever were to move back, I would seriously consider Algiers Point. The view to New Orleans is so beautiful, and the French Quarter is just a Ferry ride away. I love it!!
Back to Autin. That crumbling wall must have been waiting for us before giving way to gravity. Of course, it's no longer standing, but I'm so glad I was able to capture it.
Break
I somewhat managed to keep the blog on the roll before going to New Orleans a couple of weeks ago, but am now having a hard time getting back into it after visiting in just 10 days almost all the people who posed for the book. Bear with me, I'm working on it...
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Coco Robicheaux
March 7, 2009.
When I think about Coco Robicheaux, the word "cool" comes to mind. My American-born husband thinks that the term doesn't mean anything anymore, that it's just a vague "blah" people use all the time, rather exposing a shortage of vocabulary. Maybe so, but I didn't grow up with the word, which could explain why I can relate to it and still use it*. Coco is cool when he talks, definitely when he sings (although "cool" by itself doesn't do him justice: Coco has an amazing voice!); and look at those pants: aren't they sooo cool? On top of it all, Coco Robicheaux is the coolest story teller. Most of the stories in the book were recorded, then transcribed. I had to listen to them over and over again to write them down, so when I read the stories now, I actually hear in my head the voice of the narrator. And I can tell you this: Coco telling his story was very cool! (Wouldn't it be "cool" to get Coco to come along and read his story for the first book signing in New Orleans? — By-the-way, his story in the book is written exactly as he told it to me.)
Coco Robicheaux and Jon Cleary live in the same neighborhood, near the Mississippi River. There is a levee with a very interesting wall not far from either house, so interesting that when the photo I took with Jon didn't work out the way I expected it to (nothing wrong with Jon — in fact, he was great; just my shortcoming), I went back with Coco. And did it work that time! His picture in the book is one of my favorites. Here is a little glimpse of the wall:
Saturday night and still no word from Adonica. At that point, I was remaining hopeful about Fats Domino (although I only had 3 days left in New Orleans), but most-of-all I was becoming very encouraged with the photos (Every night, after downloading them onto my computer, I'd watched with awe their metamorphosis when subjected to double exposure. Kind of like when I used to be in the darkroom waiting for the image to appear in the developer bath, if anyone out there can relate to that!)
* It DOES make a difference which language you are raised with: I can cuss all I want in English, most of these "bad" words don't mean anything to me. Even after 20 years living in this country. Really. On the other hand, there are some words in French I would never dare to say...
When I think about Coco Robicheaux, the word "cool" comes to mind. My American-born husband thinks that the term doesn't mean anything anymore, that it's just a vague "blah" people use all the time, rather exposing a shortage of vocabulary. Maybe so, but I didn't grow up with the word, which could explain why I can relate to it and still use it*. Coco is cool when he talks, definitely when he sings (although "cool" by itself doesn't do him justice: Coco has an amazing voice!); and look at those pants: aren't they sooo cool? On top of it all, Coco Robicheaux is the coolest story teller. Most of the stories in the book were recorded, then transcribed. I had to listen to them over and over again to write them down, so when I read the stories now, I actually hear in my head the voice of the narrator. And I can tell you this: Coco telling his story was very cool! (Wouldn't it be "cool" to get Coco to come along and read his story for the first book signing in New Orleans? — By-the-way, his story in the book is written exactly as he told it to me.)
Coco Robicheaux and Jon Cleary live in the same neighborhood, near the Mississippi River. There is a levee with a very interesting wall not far from either house, so interesting that when the photo I took with Jon didn't work out the way I expected it to (nothing wrong with Jon — in fact, he was great; just my shortcoming), I went back with Coco. And did it work that time! His picture in the book is one of my favorites. Here is a little glimpse of the wall:
Saturday night and still no word from Adonica. At that point, I was remaining hopeful about Fats Domino (although I only had 3 days left in New Orleans), but most-of-all I was becoming very encouraged with the photos (Every night, after downloading them onto my computer, I'd watched with awe their metamorphosis when subjected to double exposure. Kind of like when I used to be in the darkroom waiting for the image to appear in the developer bath, if anyone out there can relate to that!)
* It DOES make a difference which language you are raised with: I can cuss all I want in English, most of these "bad" words don't mean anything to me. Even after 20 years living in this country. Really. On the other hand, there are some words in French I would never dare to say...
Monday, January 31, 2011
J Monque' D
March 7, 2009.
I learned more about the blues from the 20 minutes or so spent with J Monque' D than from the ten years I lived in New Orleans. Well, not exactly (my husband was a street performer playing the blues when I met him 22 years ago — anyone remember the Big Mess Blues Band?), but James lives the blues, in fact, he'll tell you he IS the blues! The man is passionate about it, and I'd say he has quite an intense personality altogether, in a very touching way. The sincerity, the passion with which he shared his story was both surprising and moving. Surprising because I didn't expect to see big tears from this big man, and touching... because I didn't expect to see big tears from this big man! The event that James recounted was still as vivid to him that day in May, 2010 (If you've been following this blog, you already know that the idea to get stories didn't come until later in the project), as when it happened 30 years before. But you'll have to read it in the book!
Monque' D's picture is also one of those that had a detail sneak up on me. Furthermore in this case, I think the detail is what makes the picture. And again, I have to humbly admit it was not intentional. When you get the book (hmm...), look for "eyes" in the wall. I didn't see them when I took the picture, but the weirdest thing is James' expression, and the orientation of his face: he's looking toward the eyes! C.R.E.E.P.Y!! I LOVE it!!!
Eddie Bo's phone call that morning was a relief, as well as a very sweet re-connection. I used to know Eddie when I lived in New Orleans but had lost touch with him after moving to Idaho in 2000. He sounded great, and we made plans to meet two days later at his uptown house.
As for Fats Domino, my Fairy Godmother was working her magic, as she told me to expect a phone call from Fats' daughter, Adonica.
I learned more about the blues from the 20 minutes or so spent with J Monque' D than from the ten years I lived in New Orleans. Well, not exactly (my husband was a street performer playing the blues when I met him 22 years ago — anyone remember the Big Mess Blues Band?), but James lives the blues, in fact, he'll tell you he IS the blues! The man is passionate about it, and I'd say he has quite an intense personality altogether, in a very touching way. The sincerity, the passion with which he shared his story was both surprising and moving. Surprising because I didn't expect to see big tears from this big man, and touching... because I didn't expect to see big tears from this big man! The event that James recounted was still as vivid to him that day in May, 2010 (If you've been following this blog, you already know that the idea to get stories didn't come until later in the project), as when it happened 30 years before. But you'll have to read it in the book!
Monque' D's picture is also one of those that had a detail sneak up on me. Furthermore in this case, I think the detail is what makes the picture. And again, I have to humbly admit it was not intentional. When you get the book (hmm...), look for "eyes" in the wall. I didn't see them when I took the picture, but the weirdest thing is James' expression, and the orientation of his face: he's looking toward the eyes! C.R.E.E.P.Y!! I LOVE it!!!
Eddie Bo's phone call that morning was a relief, as well as a very sweet re-connection. I used to know Eddie when I lived in New Orleans but had lost touch with him after moving to Idaho in 2000. He sounded great, and we made plans to meet two days later at his uptown house.
As for Fats Domino, my Fairy Godmother was working her magic, as she told me to expect a phone call from Fats' daughter, Adonica.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Deacon John
March 6, 2009.
Deacon John is one of the funniest people I have met while working on the New Orleans Walls project. The idea of collecting stories from the models actually started in part thanks to him, as it was then that I realized I wasn't JUST taking pictures of all these amazing people.
His photo is one of those where something unplanned happened, something, in fact, it took me weeks to discern! When you get the book, pay attention to the shape of Deacon John's eyes, as well as the shape of the knots in the woods: you may think it was intentional, but I have to admit, that was beyond me. I think the "spirit" of New Orleans had something to do with it! (Interestingly enough, I experienced quite a few of these phenomenons throughout the project...)
That night, I visited Jan Ramsey, and at some point shared with her how worried I was getting about not hearing back from Eddie Bo, even telling her, "I will get really pissed off if anything happens to Eddie before I can get his picture." The strange thing here is that it felt like it was just my mouth saying something that my mind wasn't controlling or believing. Of course Eddie was going to be fine! There are some people I just can't picture being gone.
The next morning, I got a call from Eddie Bo...
Deacon John is one of the funniest people I have met while working on the New Orleans Walls project. The idea of collecting stories from the models actually started in part thanks to him, as it was then that I realized I wasn't JUST taking pictures of all these amazing people.
His photo is one of those where something unplanned happened, something, in fact, it took me weeks to discern! When you get the book, pay attention to the shape of Deacon John's eyes, as well as the shape of the knots in the woods: you may think it was intentional, but I have to admit, that was beyond me. I think the "spirit" of New Orleans had something to do with it! (Interestingly enough, I experienced quite a few of these phenomenons throughout the project...)
That night, I visited Jan Ramsey, and at some point shared with her how worried I was getting about not hearing back from Eddie Bo, even telling her, "I will get really pissed off if anything happens to Eddie before I can get his picture." The strange thing here is that it felt like it was just my mouth saying something that my mind wasn't controlling or believing. Of course Eddie was going to be fine! There are some people I just can't picture being gone.
The next morning, I got a call from Eddie Bo...
Friday, January 28, 2011
Stacey Simmons & Trigger
March 6, 2009.
Stacey Simmons is a visionary, and if you haven’t heard of her yet (she recently made Fast Company’s list of the 100 most creative people in business), you will soon.
When I asked her to be in the book, she mentioned her horse for the photo... I loved the idea!!
Stacey learned to ride on Trigger before owning him, and fate decided that she would rescue the horse after Katrina, bringing him to her adopted Baton Rouge.
Since the pictures for the book had to be taken in New Orleans, Stacey took it upon herself to put the horse in a trailer and bring him for one day to City Park where he used to live. Needless to say, I was thrilled!
The horse behaved wonderfully except when I asked Stacey to remove his halter (what do I know?!) and Trigger started to take a stroll on his own. We barely avoided a disaster...
There aren’t many walls in City Park, but the one we finally settled on is both beautiful and meaningful; just perfect: the levee!
By-the-Way, in case you saw the picture on facebook, Trigger has one brown eye, and one blue.
Stacey Simmons is a visionary, and if you haven’t heard of her yet (she recently made Fast Company’s list of the 100 most creative people in business), you will soon.
When I asked her to be in the book, she mentioned her horse for the photo... I loved the idea!!
Stacey learned to ride on Trigger before owning him, and fate decided that she would rescue the horse after Katrina, bringing him to her adopted Baton Rouge.
Since the pictures for the book had to be taken in New Orleans, Stacey took it upon herself to put the horse in a trailer and bring him for one day to City Park where he used to live. Needless to say, I was thrilled!
The horse behaved wonderfully except when I asked Stacey to remove his halter (what do I know?!) and Trigger started to take a stroll on his own. We barely avoided a disaster...
There aren’t many walls in City Park, but the one we finally settled on is both beautiful and meaningful; just perfect: the levee!
By-the-Way, in case you saw the picture on facebook, Trigger has one brown eye, and one blue.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Walter Wolfman Wahington
March 5, 2009.
When I first came to New Orleans a little over 20 years ago, I stayed with my sister on Magazine Street, not far from Jefferson. There was a little bar across the street from her house —it may still be there, but I don’t remember the name— where my sister insisted on taking me see this incredible blues musician who played the guitar with his teeth. This was my first introduction to Walter Wolfman Washington.
Walter’s photoshoot was as much fun as Big Al’s, and on top of the smile, I got the dancing! I usually ask the models to wear black, but Walter just doesn’t own any black clothes. Since the wall I found in his mid-city neighborhood was blue, we thought wearing turquoise might be okay. Well, it didn’t work out for the book (I had to remove the colors for the final photo) but here is another one with the blue suit:
When I first came to New Orleans a little over 20 years ago, I stayed with my sister on Magazine Street, not far from Jefferson. There was a little bar across the street from her house —it may still be there, but I don’t remember the name— where my sister insisted on taking me see this incredible blues musician who played the guitar with his teeth. This was my first introduction to Walter Wolfman Washington.
Walter’s photoshoot was as much fun as Big Al’s, and on top of the smile, I got the dancing! I usually ask the models to wear black, but Walter just doesn’t own any black clothes. Since the wall I found in his mid-city neighborhood was blue, we thought wearing turquoise might be okay. Well, it didn’t work out for the book (I had to remove the colors for the final photo) but here is another one with the blue suit:
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Big Al Carson
March 5, 2009.
Meeting Big Al Carson brought a big smile to my face: HE was all smiles during his photoshoot, and his smile was BIG, as someone who embraces life to its fullest. At least, that‘s the impression I got from him. So, of course, there is a big smile in his picture. However, when I called to get his story a few months later, what I got was rather chilling. Big Al actually shared two anecdotes, and here is the one that didn’t make it into the book: Al worked for the coroner’s office for 9 years. One day, he received a call about someone who committed suicide. As he was collecting the information, he slowly realized that he knew the address of the victim, so he asked for a name: it was his best friend.
Meeting Big Al Carson brought a big smile to my face: HE was all smiles during his photoshoot, and his smile was BIG, as someone who embraces life to its fullest. At least, that‘s the impression I got from him. So, of course, there is a big smile in his picture. However, when I called to get his story a few months later, what I got was rather chilling. Big Al actually shared two anecdotes, and here is the one that didn’t make it into the book: Al worked for the coroner’s office for 9 years. One day, he received a call about someone who committed suicide. As he was collecting the information, he slowly realized that he knew the address of the victim, so he asked for a name: it was his best friend.
Monday, January 24, 2011
John & Edna Kenny - Donald Harrison, Jr.
March 4, 2009.
John & Edna Kenny are some of the nicest, most genuine people I have ever met. We used to be neighbors on Magazine Street, where Edna owned an antique store and was known for years as "The Angel of Magazine Street". Unfortunately, the store had to be closed a few months ago because of John's declining health. Edna shared with me recently that when you pass a certain age and your health becomes uncertain, you have to look forward to different events to hang on to life, and she assured me that John was going to be around for their 60th anniversary on February 12, 2011, and for the book release right after that.
I sure hope so. John is quite an extraordinary man: a graduate from the Polytechnic Institute of New York, he is an author, a World War II veteran, an artist, and earned his doctorate from the Louisiana State College System in Urban Studies on his 80th birthday in 2006. He's the other Dr. John! The story he shared for the book is quite amazing as well. Since hearing it, I started using the expression "I'll take the beans" as a mean to say "I'll take the lesser of two evils."
John and Edna were some of the first people to return to New Orleans after the storm, and there is a comment Edna made that struck me: one thing she missed the most when they came back to clean up (by-the-way, her fridge was fine because before leaving town, she emptied a whole bottle of vodka in it!) was the sound of children. After not seeing any kid for months, one day Edna went to Walmart and saw a little girl: she rushed to her and just hugged her.
Edna and John's photo was taken in the parking lot behind their store, and posing them in front of the brick wall was a no-brainer: there is still so much love between these two, that when I asked them to kiss, they didn't even blink!
That afternoon, I met with Donald Harrison, Jr. who was introduced to me at Antoinette K-Doe's viewing. The contrast between the decrepit wall and Donald's perfect attire and shining saxophone created already such a powerful imagery, I only asked the musician to play. It was delightful, and a particularly quick photo shoot I wouldn't have minded lasted longer...
John & Edna Kenny are some of the nicest, most genuine people I have ever met. We used to be neighbors on Magazine Street, where Edna owned an antique store and was known for years as "The Angel of Magazine Street". Unfortunately, the store had to be closed a few months ago because of John's declining health. Edna shared with me recently that when you pass a certain age and your health becomes uncertain, you have to look forward to different events to hang on to life, and she assured me that John was going to be around for their 60th anniversary on February 12, 2011, and for the book release right after that.
I sure hope so. John is quite an extraordinary man: a graduate from the Polytechnic Institute of New York, he is an author, a World War II veteran, an artist, and earned his doctorate from the Louisiana State College System in Urban Studies on his 80th birthday in 2006. He's the other Dr. John! The story he shared for the book is quite amazing as well. Since hearing it, I started using the expression "I'll take the beans" as a mean to say "I'll take the lesser of two evils."
John and Edna were some of the first people to return to New Orleans after the storm, and there is a comment Edna made that struck me: one thing she missed the most when they came back to clean up (by-the-way, her fridge was fine because before leaving town, she emptied a whole bottle of vodka in it!) was the sound of children. After not seeing any kid for months, one day Edna went to Walmart and saw a little girl: she rushed to her and just hugged her.
Edna and John's photo was taken in the parking lot behind their store, and posing them in front of the brick wall was a no-brainer: there is still so much love between these two, that when I asked them to kiss, they didn't even blink!
That afternoon, I met with Donald Harrison, Jr. who was introduced to me at Antoinette K-Doe's viewing. The contrast between the decrepit wall and Donald's perfect attire and shining saxophone created already such a powerful imagery, I only asked the musician to play. It was delightful, and a particularly quick photo shoot I wouldn't have minded lasted longer...
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