Portraits: Photographs in New Orleans

As usual, what is interesting about any local non-fiction book is the number of details that I knew, and here it is the number of faces already known to me. Some I know enough to stop and talk with whenever we run into each other, some just to nod to when biking by. Jonathan is that kind of connector whether as photographer or in person, merging many different communities with his easy presence and gentle manner.
I think that carries over with these very direct portraits of his people.. Check out his show at The Front on St. Claude and certainly check out the book.

This other image is from August 29, 2006 when I happened on him at dawn doing an installation on Bayou St. John across from our old apartments:

Poolhouse

For those of you not on Facebook, I add this post from "over there" and promise my full return to my blog in November. Much ready to add here.







Mandabita poolhouse. Grandfather built it in the early 1970s, and it was used daily by he and my grandmother til the late 1980s. I swam as often as I could traveling from the city (and had one or two poignant talks right before he died while he sat on the swing and I slowly swam), and then the pump broke right after he died. Jerry (stepfather) did his best but never had enough time. After K, the house needed major repairs from trees and Jerry did it all and Grandma came back for 7 months, then passed away with CDM at her side one a.m. Pool slowly fell apart. Seemed like the end. During late hot summer this year, Jerry fixed it. Seems like the grandparents are back somehow...

Bohemian Jungle from Jonathan

A photo exhibit and book depict New Orleans turn-of-the-21st-century bohemia.

The Front, 4100 St. Claude Ave., 504.920.3980, www.nolafront.org

Art in an Urban Jungle that's mostly Jungle

Jonathan Traviesa’s exhibit "Photographs in New Orleans 1998-2009," now on display at The Front is a collection of black and white portraits of young urban artists and art types formally posed in picturesquely funky back yards and door stoops.

There are some significant props, such as a ukulele, a skirt made of plastic six-pack yokes, and Mardi Gras costumes. There are dogs and cats. But the most persistent detail is the vegetation: the cats claw, mother-in-laws-tongue, and banana leaves that lend a subtropical texture to many of the photos.

Symbolically speaking, the foliage represents New Orleans. It’s an unruly presence, surrounding, protecting, clinging, pushing in from all angles, threatening to take over everything. It’s the thing that sets the Crescent City’s artistic landscape apart. It’s the thing that transforms Traviesa’s portraits into a vision of an artistic Eden.

The exhibit continues through Nov. 8. Gallery hours are Sat-Sun, noon to 5. Prints are : $200; "Portraits: Photographs in New Orleans 1998-2006, a book of Traviesa’s series by UNO Press is $27.

What now?

So, another box and some hanging clothes and I am done with moving. Well besides the interesting unpacking from someone who has boxes from the vestiges of her wet post-K apartment. And a few packed last year after 2.4 years in FEMA trailer...
Opening boxes, and looking at things I had forgotten, like the 5 years of NOLA BookFair posters-GK Darby even sent me one in 2006 so I would have it. Or the poster from the Knitters show on August 23, 2005. Very nice.
I am not at home yet over here on Fortin. I still feel like a visitor, and will I know until I unpack the last box and hang the stuff on the wall. haven't actually stayed here yet, as no bed or sheets and pillows are here. Not til tomorrow.
Maddie the cartoon dog is across the lake while I get things organized. Never saw a more worried dog, so best to let her run and have fun there while I curse and walk back and forth 3-5 times searching for the hammer. She sweats every frown. Just her way.
But, I am already enjoying the village atmosphere here. I have had more pleasant conversations with new neighbors already than I had in the Quarter- but really, no way to compare. It occurred to me that to live in the Quarter is to isolate yourself. To have a gate and a long courtyard or high balcony limits the drop-bys. More than that, the residents of the Quarter want quiet at home- plenty of places to go out for noise and drama, so when they are home, they are the quietest group you never see.
Fortin is quiet too, but people smile and wave when I am on the porch and the horses on the track look happy too.
I will be getting my bed from family house across the lake, along with the table and chairs that will be slightly too big. Once those are in, I think I will breathe a sigh of relief and start living the first home life since August 27, 2005.
Wish me luck. And wave if you drive by.