[After 47 attempts at getting this published through traditional media, I decided to post my Jazzfest story here.  Many mahalos (thanks) to photographer Crystal Shelton and her camera, for her keen eye, superb craft, and unending professionalism.  All photo credits go to her, unless otherwise noted! - seran]

Aloha NO-LA!

The Local's Guide to New Orleans Jazzfest,
The Jazz and Heritage Foundation's Annual Cultural Marathon

by Seran Seran

The image of Louis Armstrong graces
the lawn inside Jazzfest.

Just the mere mention of New Orleans conjures images of delicious meals, throngs of people dancing in the street, jazz quartets playing in quaint courtyards, brass bands blaring down a busy boulevard, and a raucousness not found in any other city in the world. For the uninitiated, this may be the only impression one has of this fine city. For those in the know, it's another world entirely.

To the Honoluluan, however well-traveled, New Orleans doesn't automatically end up on the top ten places to visit. Maybe because of the distance, maybe because of the seemingly disparate cultures or maybe it's because of the startling images of Hurricane Katrina's aftermath. Whatever the disconnection is, it's time for another look at this elegant city at the bend of the mighty Mississippi.

Fresh boiled crawfish ready to
peel and eat!

Although it is in the humid, sub-tropical south, New Orleans is still a city of 4 seasons: crawfish, festival, football, and Second Lines – the moving street parties originating with jazz funerals and often sponsored by community Social Aid and Pleasure Clubs. And there are definitive etiquette and wardrobe rules for each season. The months of April and May begin the cycle of festivals that pepper the city all year long, the grand dame of all being the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. Since 1970, with few exceptions, this panoply of live music, food and dance is a feast for all ages and all walks of life. A showcase for the city's multicultural and multilingual history, “Jazzfest”, as it is affectionately abbreviated, offers both locals and visitors alike the opportunity to savor the rich gumbo that is New Orleans.

A great way to be introduced to Big Easy culture, kid-friendly Jazzfest is held each year during the last weekend in April and the first weekend in May. Owned by the nonprofit New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Foundation, it is the primary fund-raising activity for the Foundation's many programs, all focused on education, economic development and cultural events. The Jazz and Heritage Foundation is active all year long with programs to raise awareness and promote the city's rich history. These include events such as high school brass band scholarship competitions, the Sync Up entertainment industry conference (free and worth every minute); the Jazz and Heritage Gala, a major fundraiser; and the Community Day of Service, among many other diverse programs.

The accordion is the pulse of zydeco music.

General admission tickets give you access to every stage at the festival. There are twelve, from the intimate Lagniappe Stage to the ever-growing Acura mega-stage. For many, securing a “brass pass” - a donation to local public radio station WWOZ - is the rock star way to see and experience the festival, as a supporter of the Foundation as well as getting access to the 'OZ hospitality tent. There one can take a break between acts and indulge in fresh fruit and an iced coffee, plus private restrooms and cool misters on hot days. In recent years, other programs have been introduced to those wanting a more exclusive experience. The Big Chief, Grand Marshall and Krewe of Jazzfest passes offer tiered levels of luxurious accessibility to the acts, demonstrations, and hospitality areas. As one older aloha shirt-clad gentleman said, “I've been coming here for years as a 'little Indian', and this year I'm a 'Big Chief'. I get comfortable seating, hospitality, and the best view yet of the artists I love. I'm doing this again next year!”

Inside the Sauvage Street entrance,
a couple poses for the obligatory shot.

Getting to the festival is easy: by car, taxi, bus (private and public), and bicycle. Bicycles are a popular way to go; the city is flat and easy to ride and there is a free bike valet that keeps your wheels safe and secure. There are two main entrances to the festival, originally held at Congo Square near the French Quarter but now held at the Fair Grounds Race Course near mid-city New Orleans. Arriving as a novice on the first day of Jazzfest just before the gates open may seem a bit daunting; the crowd is large and electric and ready for the day. After a quick security check, friendly greetings by the staff and a scan of your brass pass or other form of admission, you are in the door and on your way. Gates open at 11 a.m. for everyone, with different lines based on the type of ticket held, and the music doesn't stop until 7 p.m. every day of the festival (a total of seven over two long weekends).

The festival is centrally located which means there are plenty of options for lodging and transportation. From the big hotel chains to private bed-and-breakfasts, visitors to the city can choose the right accommodations to suit their tastes. Travel packages are plentiful on the festival's website as well as the New Orleans Convention and VisitorsBureau and the myriad online travel agencies such as Priceline, Tripadvisor, or Hotwire.

What does one bring to the fest? The basics are a hat for the shade (onto which one put pins, feathers, flowers, beads and other whimsical items collected during your visits), a fold up chair, a point-and-shoot camera, comfortable shoes, lots of cash to savor the art and food the festival offers, and an appetite for the unexpected. Do a little homework beforehand by downloading a smartphone app. Or, get one of the various “Jazzfest Bibles”, schedules and background pieces included in the free monthly entertainment publications such as Offbeat or Gambit, available on line or in hard copy.

Stylin' Little Freddie King delivers
down home riffs in the Blues tent.

Jimmy Buffet's 2012 acoustic set
scored big at the Acura Stage.

To the uninitiated, the emphasis at the festival may seem to be on live jazz music. There is plenty of that, and more: gospel, blues, brass band, Mardi Gras Indian, zydeco, country, world, rhythm and blues, funk, alternative – just name it. The 2012 line up included such diverse dignitaries as Bruce Springsteen, The Eagles, Al Green, Herbie Hancock, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band 50^th Anniversary, Allen Toussaint, and Dr. John; and delightful discoveries such as Marc Stone, local radio DJ, producer and blues guitarist; Los Po-Boy-Citos, a Latin band covering New Orleans classic songs and musicians, red hot American roots singer-songwriter Dayna Kurtz, or the experimental and soulful Theresa Andersson. You can count on yearly repeat appearances by local favorites such as zydeco master Duane Dopsie, jazz crooner Ingrid Lucia, legendary clarinetist Pete Fountain, guitarist and environment champion Tab Benoit, and, of course, the Neville Brothers, who close the festival each year. 

Big Sam Williams and
his funky 'bone.

Kermit Ruffins, heir apparent to the title of Mr. New Orleans

Just as exciting and as big a draw as the music is the food available for purchase or to sample. This includes live cooking demonstrations in the grandstand Food Heritage Stage by local restaurateurs such as Mr. B's Bistro, Brigtsen's, and Ralph's on the Park, among many others. Seemingly everything is available, from oysters on the half shell with champagne, to beignets, to the heaping bowl of hot boiled crawfish, to ya ka mein (New Orleans's version of saimin), and “hangover” cures such as Cuban and pork chop sandwiches. A must-have is everyone's favorite, Crawfish Monica, a heaping bowl of creamy spicy, spiral pasta with chunks of crawfish in every bite. Another favorite is the Oyster Patty plate with a crawfish sack, an oyster patty (creamy oysters en croute), and crawfish beignets in lemon tartar sauce; the combo plate is enough for two to share. This is only the beginning of the cuisine offered at the fest. Po' boys (sub) sandwiches of all kinds are plentiful; there are fried oyster, shrimp, softshell crab, cochon de lait (similar to kalua pig), gator, duck – the list goes on and on. Like pie? There are meat, alligator, sweet potato, and fruit pies. There is vegetarian, Middle Eastern, Native American and Asian food, too, and even peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the Kid's Area. All are reasonably priced, served in small portions to allow multiple sampling of dishes in one afternoon, and are brought to you by local businesses. Don't forget dessert! Bread pudding is a must, accompanied by frequent discussions over whose mama has the better recipe. A mango freeze is a real treat, or have a sno-ball, New Orleans's answer to shave ice. Of course, there are beverage stands dotted all around the 145-acre grounds: from iced teas to beers to sodas and the ubiquitous daiquiri stands, among other treats.

There's never a lack of food options at the 'fest.

Consider the food choices as a moveable, multi-course feast, a “marathon, not a sprint” as they say, and take your time to enjoy each morsel. After all, there are seven days to sample everything! And there's no need to worry about eating too much food. A typical day at the fest could net a gourmand an average of twelve miles of walking to burn off all those calories. Guilt-free dining among 50,000 or more like-minded music adventurers, what could be better?

Sculpture by Nnamdi Okonkwo

Perhaps the festival's arts and crafts, for one thing. Artisans offer a wide offering of souvenirs and objets d'art to treasure for years. Take some time between musical acts to visit the Contemporary Crafts area between the Blues and Jazz tents, for example. The curious visitor will find one-of-a-kind clothing, jewelry and accessories, painting, wood works, musical instruments, demonstrations, and more. On one afternoon, this author saw sculptures reminiscent of Pegge Hopper's voluptuous Hawaiian women. Stopping to chat with the artist, Nnamdi Okonkwo, she discovered that, originally from Nigeria, he spent many years on the lee side of Oahu, honing his art and admittedly influenced by the local drawings he saw as a student at BYU Laie. “Hawaii was the first place I touched clay. I live in the South now, and New Orleans is my second ohana.”

Not all of the art is for sale, some of it is to be experienced live. Take painter John Bukaty, for example. He sets up a canvas right in front of the stages and captures via his “live painting” the essence of the artist or band that's playing. The result is a stunning visual moment in time, a conjoined expression of both painter and performer.

Big Chief Monk Boudreaux of the
Golden Eagles performs at the 2012 Jazzfest

Next to the Fais Do Do stage, where Zydeco and Cajun music and dancing reigns, is the Louisiana Marketplace. Local but nationally-recognized artists display their craft, furniture, pottery, handmade musical instruments and other mixed media to display Louisiana's culture, traditions, and heritage. The success of HBO's “Treme” has put a spotlight on the Mardi Gras Indians of New Orleans; their tent is a popular destination where the magnificently beaded and feathered costumes are on display. The variety of the artisans' wares at the Congo Square marketplace are a tribute to the African diaspora that is one of the pillars of New Orleans's rich history. Visitors come away with a deeper appreciation for the diversity of New Orleans. This happens across all age groups. For example, in the Kid's Tent area, the creativity of the younger set, guided by volunteer artists, shows a depth and understanding of the spirit of the festival. One such effort was by Serbian artist Julia Yerkov-Kline, where kids painted scenes on large cotton squares that were then strung around a wired cube that ultimately became a wind sculpture.

Jim Ballard doles out information
and aloha to fest visitors

Not sure what to do next? Visit one of the Information Booths that dot the fairgrounds for suggestions. Staffed by volunteers, the booths offer direction, information, opinions, and even comfort to festival goers in need. These seasoned volunteers have a long history with the festival; the 5-person staff of one booth alone had a combined service time of 45 years, longer than the festival has been in existence. Jim Ballard, a 15-year veteran of the booth, is sought out annually by repeat visitors who come here to get their photo taken with the peanut-earringed gentleman in the red beret. Services here abound for the physically challenged. There is a festival program available in Braille for sight-impaired visitors, and Jo, at Information Booth #2, is able to sign information to those who need it.

Johnny Woodstock

Longtime volunteer, musician and New Orleans fixture Johnny Woodstock has this suggestion for first timers. “Get yourself the Michael P. Smith book, 'New Orleans Jazz Fest: A Pictorial History'. From Congo Square to the fairgrounds, it will give you a solid background on the the festival and a great appreciation for what you are about to experience.” Woodstock also has high praise for the volunteers that give their time here. “Without them we'd have none of the richness that makes this festival so special. History, legacy, respect – that's the essence of Jazzfest. And make sure you check out Legends Park by the main food area.” He is talking about the collection located in the middle of the fairgrounds of bigger-than-life painted wooden cut outs of famous deceased New Orleans musicians and influencers that, sadly, grows bigger every year.

Equally entertaining are the characters that pepper the crowds, Jazzfest visitors who don wacky hats, outfits and gimmicks. Observed in one twenty-minute period were two men in tutus, a “steam punk” in Orwellian eyeglasses and clothing, and a man who dyes his moustache routinely to match his aloha shirt – sometimes pink, sometimes bright blue. Festival shirts, akin to aloha shirts, are rampant, with a new design created each year, and older ones worn proudly by repeat visitors. In addition to the coveted festware, two local musicians are honored by being subjects of that year's limited edition festival posters. This year's subjects are rising star Trombone Shorty for the overall festival poster, and up-and-coming Shamarr Allen, the vivacious trumpet player who twice played for Barack Obama in the White House, on the Congo Square poster.

From impromptu dances in the walkways to the Second Line marches through the Economy Hall traditional jazz tent to the colorful Pleasure Aid and Social club group parades, dance is as plentiful as the music that drives it throughout the festival. Even in the Kid's Tent area, there is a diverse offering of world rhythm and dance, such as a “fleagh”, or Irish dance, West African drum dancing, or the Associacion de Peruanos, all as much fun for parents as it is for the children. The Native American village offers audience participation in its circle dances. The fierce solo dances, which entertainer and social media maven Dusty Wright of New York City labeled “the punk rock” of Native American dancing, are reminiscent of hula ka'hiko. It is not unusual to come upon a gem of a performance anywhere on the festival grounds – sometimes it's fleeting, sometimes it's planned. It is not uncommon, too, for a complete stranger to grab one's hand and sweep into a pas de deux lindy hop, two-step or a “buckjump”, the classic Second Line move evolved from African slaves that gathered at the original Congo Square on “free Sundays”.

Another way to prepare for the magic that is the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival is by going to the official website and checking out some of the live performances that are archived by artist and year. This is an excellent way to relive the experience long after the festival is over.

Although this article is barely a toe dip into the Jazzfest community, use it as a good primer on what to expect. The next step for the first-time visitor is to find out the secrets of the festival, such as where to meet for a Bloody Mary before the gates open (Liuzza's), where to stroll for French cuisine once the festival is over (Cafe Degas), what you need to hold a cocktail and still be able to applaud for the band (“How Ya Gonna Clap” koozies), and where to take a cool break (Alison Miner Stage in the grandstand to hear artist interviews in air conditioned splendor).

The 2012 festival attendance was one of the largest since before Hurricane Katrina at an estimated 450,000 people. The San Francisco Chronicle declares it as “the best damn time on the face of the earth.” Perhaps the best testimonial for the excitement and allure of Jazzfest comes from the festival goers themselves. Just ask Chris Marek, who has been coming to Jazzfest for 30 years, always setting up in the crowd at the same spot at now-named Acura stage. “There are way more people now, more international people, and it's still the best time ever,” he proclaims. “You get to meet new people every year, and some become your good friends. I'm blessed to be able to come year after year, it never gets dull!” Floridian Michael Gravois is lured every year simply because of the music. “Here you can hear and see things you cannot hear anywhere else. You just can't.”

Make your plans now for next year’s New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival presented by Shell, scheduled for April 26 – May 5, 2013.  For the most up-to-date Jazzfest info, visit www.nojazzfest.com.

The Jazzfest Trifecta:  jambalaya, crawfish and gumbo, with obligatory condiments.

Second Lines

These days, a “Second Line” parade is held for almost any occasion – wedding, birthday, convention, or just because. It usually consists of a brass band. Trombone, sousaphone, trumpet, snare drum and bass drum are the minimum requirements; the host, such as the wedding party, or a Social Aid and Pleasure Club (a local benevolent group); and the Grand Marshall, who steers the crowd and keeps the mood high. Then comes the revelers themselves. Buckjump dancers and music lovers who “jump in the line” as the parade follows its route led by police escort. Umbrellas twirl, handkerchiefs wave, and the crowd – all ages and walks of life – strut and jump and shuffle to the funky, jazzy beat of the brass band. Originally, the “second line” was the group that followed the solemn first line of a jazz funeral, after the body was laid to rest. This group was raucous and joyous, and celebrated the life of the deceased, sending the spirit off with a happy note. Today, the Second Line has morphed into a moving party. One doesn't stand and watch a Second Line, one participates with full abandon.

The Grand Marshall sets the tone and paces the crowd during a typical second line.
Photo credit:  Jerry Moran/Native New Orleanian

What is New Orleans?

Chris Rose, the de facto voice of New Orleans, puts it best, “We dance when there is no music. We drink at funerals. We talk too much and live too large, and frankly, we're suspicious of those who don't.”

New Orleans and Honolulu – A Comparative Look

	Honolulu	New Orleans
Neckwear	Flowers	Beads
Chat	Talk Story	Non-stop Cajun
Pastime	Fishing	Fishing
Music	Strings	Brass
Dance	Hula led by Kumu Hula	Second Line led by Grand Marshall
Slogan	Lucky You Live Hawaii!	Laissez les bons temps roulez!
Greeting	Howzit	How y'all doin'?
History	Bishop Museum	African American Museum
Sausage	Portuguese	Andouille
Fests	Merrie Monarch	Jazzfest
First Name Dining	Roy's	Emeril's
Political Satire	Atomic Monkey	Krewe de Vieux
Condiment	Aloha Shoyu	Crystal Hot Sauce
Fast Food	Plate lunch @ the beach	Pork Chop Sandwich @ a Second Line

Edith Piaf, the waif-like powerhouse that sang her way through the 40s and 50s in Paris, was 47 when she passed from liver "issues". She left a mark and an attitude of "je ne regrette de rien". A great blood combo of italian and french, how could she not?

Edith Pilafi...if she was half French, half Italian, and half Armenian. 150%! I give it all!

From Prison to Palace

Last night in my post-workout delirium, I fell into bed and started to read a story about Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, the first woman president of an African country (Liberia). When she was 47 she was thrown in jail for defying the then-president Doe, for refusing to take her duly won senate seat because she believed he was fraudulently elected. Talk about a life-changing moment. She kept her head about her while all others were losing theirs, and remained imprisoned for two years, until political pressure convinced Doe to grant her amnesty. She is now 70 years old, and is the president of this war-torn "free" country. Her nickname is "Iron Lady". She "paid the price and earned the stripes" as she was quoted in the article.

Oh, and she's got a book coming out, "From Prison to Palace". And the accompanying photo of the Goodyear Blimp in the distance has absolutely nothing to do with this entry. :)

One Love, One Heart...

Church Comes in Many Forms

Yesterday I drove down to Laguna, about an hour south of here when the Traffic Goddess is in a good mood. I attended the memorial service of my good friend's brother. I knew hardly anyone there, but the ones I did know are very special to me and it was good to reconnect with them.

The service was at an Episcopal church, St. George's. Didn't see any dragons, though. I arrived early and sat way in the back, where I soon found myself among latecomers. I was in a secret society, the way they slid in without wanting anyone to notice and sharing knowing nods with the people around them. The "Back Pew Club", as it were. The usual prayers and hymns were delivered, tears were shed, laughter was shared and then, THEN...the opulent tones of a vibraphone rolled through the air, and for a moment I thought perhaps *I* was in heaven. The minister, Brother Norm, was jamming on the vibes; the dulcet sounds almost made me want to return to my Christian roots. Almost. (I found out later that he trained at Julliard, tours with Barbara Streisand on occasion, and was once with the Boston Pops. Or was it the New York Philharmonic. Whatever - he was good.) After his short and simple performance, I started noticing his delivery of his homily and sermon - lyrical in its essence, especially when he directed his message to the deceased's young sons, as if no one else was in the church. That's much like the personal experience one has with a favorite song - eliciting strong feelings anew no matter how many times the tune has played.

I watched Brother Norm - whom I shied away from, because, well, I'm shy - for most of the afternoon, watched him interact with people young and old, smiling and hugging and giving off a warmth and confidence that could only be from genuine love and care for others. Is this what being part of a church is like? I thought of my previous brushes with church - mostly of the Armenian Church, where no English was spoken, no one smiled, everything was very dour and frightening, women were next to invisible, and actions driven from a sense of "duty", not "purpose" - and of the few forays into "new" Christianity when I was a young teen, mostly to meet guys but always ending in feelings of inadequacy or doubt. This was nothing like those old, gladly-forgotten memories of Church. This was a community. And, on this day, my tears that were freely shed weren't the usual depletion of my spirit, they were just tears, as they should be.

Church Part 2: After spending the day and early evening with my friends and their family - a true exercise in love and support - I went to my next Church. Birthday party for Lorenzo at his house. I was late to arrive and walked in on a card game called 4 Horses or something like that, complete with piles of dimes and flutes of champagne for all. I dove right in - it was like the feeling you get from crowdsurfing, just being swept along by the moment - more camaraderie but of a different color. Everyone was tuned to the same frequency - KFUN - and I spend the next 4 hours laughing, arguing, and teasing my fellow congregation, each of us there to find purpose, meaning and a good plate (or two) of Indian food at the Church of Perpetual Silliness.

"One Love, One Heart...let's get together and feel all right..."

6 months and 47 days later...

	How I spent my day: I crawled out of bed at 2:30a to host a con call at 3a for an hour...couldn't go back to sleep for the longest time after that but then I finally did only to almost oversleep for an 8a con call that I was also hosting. close call. Then I worked till about 11a and said ENOUGH! I went out to Whittier to Rose Hills to visit The Gang and bring flowers...it is my brother's birthday today so I wanted to sing him the birthday song. But I couldn't do it once I got there. It was a beautiful, sunny and hot day, I watched a man pull up nearby and kneel at a gravesite, head down for the longest time. Then he ended up curling up and taking a nap there. I was there for over an hour, trimming and trying to dig up the vases that have been overtaken by crabgrass (no luck). I managed to get the vase out of my dad's spot, and a big worm, a potato bug, and an earwig came running out with it. I did a little squeal and dance and then laughed thinking about how my dad used to sing, "The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out..." Anyway, I didn't want to break the mood by singing a song that should be sung to a living person, so I stood under the tree by my brother's grave and tickled the little windchime I put in the tree years ago, and watched things unfold around me. I realized I was sort of happy to be able to do these little things for my family who have moved on already. This week has been full of reminders about the end of life - anniversary of my friend Lucy's untimely passing (at age 47), my brother's bday, my friend's brother who took his own life on Sunday night...also age 47. I don't know how to end this blathering so I'll just say luv seran PS: This is year 4707 in the Chinese calendar, year of the Earth Ox. Also, Obama is 47 until August - a Leo, can you guess?

Chupinazo!

Today in Spain the running of the bulls in Pamplona started. Chupinazo is the first day of the week+ long festival. Don't know what it means, but it involved a lot of wine, water and soapsuds. My kinda party!

Everyone wears white with red sashes and scarves. Beautiful! My boss's admin (they live near Madrid) is there this week.

I miss Espana!

The Land of AUS and Iemma

I took a few shots of Sydney and the surrounding area while I was there, and posted them here:

Album #1: Around town
Album #2: More city shots
Album #3: The Art Biennale, on Cockatoo Island
Album #4: Around town again
Album #5: Katoomba
Album #6: Bondi Beach (watch how you say that around these parts)
Album #7: Paddington and Manly

Important to note, the premier of New South Wales is named Iemma (Yemma)!