Music/Musique

I don’t remember a time in my life where I didn’t listen to music. I grew up in the sixties and seventies when music was in a state of flux. Almost anything went, and it did. In one of my memories my sister and I are about 6 and 8 and we are dancing in our dining room on hardwood floors with the sun streaming in through the ceiling-high windows and the glass door going out to the balcony. We are dancing to Leonard Cohen when his voice was young and not so velvety deep as it is now. I loved the poetry of the man even then. It spoke to me and evoked images that I painted as I saw fit.

I still love music that speaks to my soul; that can make my heart yearn, my tears fall, my lips laugh. I love to sing along, or hum, or whistle. Today we venture once again into the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans to partake of their particular brand of life-enriching music. Now I am not, per say, a huge fan of sitting around listening to jazz, or blue grass or calypso or zydeco unless, I’m listening to them live.  I can’t not sway with the rhythm or tap my foot or wiggle my hips or clap or turn in circles in joy. Live, all of these different styles speak a language that some part or the other in me responds to.  When I see the faces of the voices and the instruments producing their glorious sounds, the music is different to me than when I sit at home and listen to a disc. Some music works that way in reverse. I can listen to the disc but not appreciate the live performance as much. And now, I’m ready to hit the streets again and sync myself into the pulse of the city. I’m off to indulge my body and soul in a “gumbo” of fresh music as only the French Quarter Festival can provide.

The last act the "Royal Frenchmen"

So, we've spent the entire day enjoying the music the FQF has had to offer us and it ended about 30 minutes ago for us with a last hour sitting on the corner of Royal and Frenchman listening to the "Royal Frenchmen", a rag tag thrown together group of young musicians who decided to play together a few weeks ago. Some are even from France! I watched as they set up, tuned up, warmed up and then started to play. At first there were maybe six of us onlookers paying attention. By the third song there were at least 30 people watching, tapping their feet or swaying to the lively beat. By the sixth song there were at least 70 to 100 people at any given moment who had joined us on that corner. We spilled into the street almost blocking traffic. At least in the Big Easy they are used to this and tolerate it well. Two dancers showed up and entertained us with their fluid style. The tide of people ebbed and flowed as did the music. It was magical and so worth experiencing. I almost couldn't wait to get back to the B&B to get it all down, but was afraid to miss anything! What a wonderful way to end a glorious day.

Photos:

Listen Little Love of Life

Amazing to be here in New Orleans for the French Quarter Festival and the magic music this city has to offer. I’ve been listening all day to all kinds of music, loud, quiet, jazzy, blues, cajun, zydeco, calypso, a little bit of a lot of soul and color.

As we sat on the curb on Royal Street this afternoon, I listened not only to the music of David Leonard and Roselyn Lionheart, two lovely musicians who’ve played here for years, but also to the flow of people walking by, drinks in hand. Different conversations floated on the air, words picked out at random depending on the turn of a head or direction; one lady telling her husband that he already knew she wasn’t listening so why did he bother telling her whatever it was he was telling her. A man on his cell making sure all of us around him heard him tell whoever he was talking to that, yes, his grandmother was all right, and so was he, thank you for asking. At a restaurant for lunch the host who seated us had tissue paper stuffed in his ears because he was tired of the noisy bombardment of Bourbon Street. I didn’t blame him.

I listened and imagined writing about these sounds, these people and their characters, how they might all become grist for the writer’s mill. These little snippets of people’s lives surrounded me and I became aware of the quiet in my everyday life. Meanwhile the music encased us all in a large envelope of multi-colored sounds. This city is alive and I feel alive in it. The magic that always seems to entrance me here is as powerful as ever. I love New Orleans, its sounds, its life, its vibration that moves through you like the taste of a salty sweet margarita. Tomorrow I’ll be back out on the FQ streets listening to the beat of the city and its people, and tomorrow night I will come back to our little B & B (Auld Sweet Olive) and write about nothing but the magic of music and how it soothes my soul.

Images from:

jambands.com

worldvisionreport.org