There is art everywhere here in downtown New Orleans. Even
the burnt hulls of buildings are canvases here. Melody and color seep out of
the cracked uneven pavement of The Bywater and Marigny, the neighborhoods I
spent the last few days exploring. Unlike The Quarter, the buildings don't ooze
of last night's beer and hurricane-puke, street-washed foam that hugs the
sidewalk walls till noon, till the sun dries up the vestiges of the night
before.
My plan was to give myself an adventure--the present of
wandering somewhere new, without spending too much money. To refill the heart
and the imagination. I finished the recording part of the next record last
week. Sang my last harmony, and had a few days off and needed to get out of
town. My next show would be in Pensacola, Florida, so New Orleans seemed a good
place to park my imagination for a few days. I asked around, got a gig and
headed south. My favorite thing in the world to do is to wander. As a junior in
college, I spent a few weeks wandering alone in Madrid, in Paris, in Seville,
in Toledo, in Nice and a certain wave of the breeze, bringing along steam and
garbage and maybe the cigarette of someone at an outdoor cafe will mix into a
memory cocktail and I'm right back there in Madrid, the world a wide open
landscape.
I rented a bike and rode each corner of The Marigny and
Bywater, sent there by a friend who told me this was the place I would feel
most at home. Funky and slightly dangerous. Reminds me of parts of the East
Village of NYC about 15 years ago, Williamsburg Brooklyn before the Investment
Bankers with Rock Star Haircuts took over, East Nashville and parts of Austin.
Here's what I did and what I highly recommend:
I stayed at The LaMothe House on Esplanade in a tiny room
that was perfect.
Rented a bike from Michaels on Frenchmen Street for $30 a
day. Best idea ever. I left my car in the lot the whole time and at night after
dinner and after the music, I loved riding through the Bywater back to my
hotel, the streets dark and quiet.
Played a set of music at The Three Muses on Frenchmen Street
with Kristin Diable, who's hosting a Monday night songwriter showcase. This was
her first and it was packed. They fed me and the food there is outstanding.
Little plates (a thing here): quail and butternut squash ravioli and salmon and
great wine...
I ended up each night late at The Spotted Cat on Frenchmen
to hear traditional New Orleans music played by young bands. There was dancing
in the streets. Literally. Abitas at the bar and women with tattoo-sleeve arms
dressed up like 40's pinup queens singing like Billie Holiday and joyous swing
dancing by hipsters my age and younger. Meschiya Lake. Great voice. Great
style. She looks fragile and tough at the same time and I think I have a girl
crush.
Best meal: Elizabeth's in the Bywater. BBQ shrimp, softshell
crabs, osso bucco, collards and red beans and rice and cabbage with bacon and
fried grits and great wine. All for under $50. You wouldn't think it from the
looks of the place, but it was the most exquisite meal.
Vaughn's in the Bywater. Best jukebox in a great funky dive
bar. Drank Abita Restoration. Yum.
Mimi's in The Marigny. Great tapas bar. Wonderful music. I
heard the Sarah Quintana trio and she was incredible. Young and pretty, she
plays an archtop guitar too big for her tiny frame, strums it fast and sings in
an Edith Piaf-like voice, standards and her own originals. I bought her
homemade (as in duplicated on a blank CD in her computer and Sharpie-written
on) CD for $10 happily. Ate fried goat cheese balls dripped with honey and
drank Cabernet.
The Roosevelt Hotel's bar, The Sazerac. I rode my bike over
to Lafayette Square to hear a free concert with Dr. John. Felt very Parisian,
riding in my vintage dress and motorcycle boots and my hair in a long braid, my
purse in the basket. After the concert, I rode to the Roosevelt. I figure if you
look like you belong, you can get away with almost anything, and so I rode my
bike straight into this elegant lobby, straight up to the Concierge and asked
him if I could put my bike into storage for an hour and he smiled and took my
bike from me. Smoothed my hair down and walked into The Sazerac and took a
stool at the bar and ordered the Sazerac, a rye whiskey concoction I was told
was a "must". I'm not much of a whiskey drinker, but I felt very
sophisticated slowly sipping this lemony drink. The bartender was crushing
blackberries for a concoction he called "The Southern Gentlemen", a
drink he'd made up with mint and blackberries and Maker's Mark and he made me a
little so I could taste it and THAT, my friends, was a drink! I had pulled out
my IPad to read a book and 5 people asked me if I liked it, kept coming up to
me and asking to hold it, to see how light it was, researching if they would
buy one. Funny how these things go. A slightly tipsy gentleman in a business
suit began a conversation about the IPad with me, offered to buy me another
drink (I declined) asked me if I had dinner plans (I told him I did), gave me
his card "in case you're ever in Cleveland". He asked what I did. I
told him I was a songwriter. And he said, "I figured you were some kind of
artist. You didn't seem like everyone else here." And he got that slightly
drunk look on his face of a traveling businessman stuck in a world of sameness.
I think if he sat down at Vaughn's in The Bywater, some hipster pierced,
tattooed woman might do the same to him. Exotic is a matter of neighborhood.
Had lunch at a corner shack. Domilise's Po Boys and Bar. Had
a fried shrimp Po Boy for $10 and a mug of Miller High Life for $2. Best
sandwhich ever.
Sitting at Cafe Rose Nicaud on Frenchmen writing this and
just heard this.
"Who dat?" laughter from the man as he back-slaps
his buddy who smiles broadly and says, "who dat?" Big gutteral
laughter.
"Fuck it man, they trying to .. what? you hear?"
"I know, I know, brother..."
"I mean, what we spozed to do, heya? Take it to the
streets, man, thas right."
"Musicians. No home, that's what I say. No
respect."
"I blow it in the streets. That's what I do, you
hear?"
"Yeah. I hear it."
"Well, you gots the gig. So there's that."
"Thass right. The gig. I got it."
"So there's that."
"Yeah. There's that."
Laughter.
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