Louisiana: The Church of Zydeco

Performance center, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana.

Every Sunday afternoon, Vermilionville hosts the Bal du Dimanche ("Sunday Dance") from 1:00 to 4:00. Usually they alternate Cajun and Zydeco each week, with the occasional "swamp pop" or blues thrown in to the line-up.

I love both Cajun and Zydeco, mind you.

But. ... On every Zydeco Sunday, the same strange phenomenon occurs: I walk into the gift shop, show my membership card, get my paper bracelet, walk out of that building and into the courtyard, pass by La Cuisine de Maman's, and as I hear the Zydeco waft from the nondescript Performance Center in front of me, my mouth begins to form into a smile. It's an involuntary response, I tell you.

The nearer I get to the Performance Center, the louder the music gets as it flows through the cracks of the doors, and the wider my smile becomes. Heck, it makes me smile just writing about it.

A pale, pale sample of this phenomenon is in the video below:

On this particular Sunday in June, the Most High Reverend Mister Curley Taylor preached, along with his holy men, Zydeco Trouble.

Curley Taylor and Zydeco Trouble. Vermilionville, June 2015.

We celebrants confessed our sins and were blessed for another week. Or until later the same day for serious sinners, who congregated at Whiskey River. Or again that night, maybe at Randol's or O'Darby's or Feed n Seed.

Curley Taylor and Zydeco Trouble. Vermilionville, June 2015.

When a Zydeco band gets into a special groove, and the band members are in the music, and they lead us, the audience, up the road with them, and we add our energy to the band's energy, and the entire room thrums with a soaring, transcendent force, it evokes to me a trance dance that brings euphoria, of connection with humanity of today and humanity going back, back, back all the way to our very beginnings.

It's not just Zydeco music that does this, of course. Any music can do it. I remember a singular experience at the Lupus Chili Fest in 2013, in a garage. I described the feeling like this:

Sometimes when you listen to music, live especially, it pushes against you like an ocean wave or like a force of air, where you feel exhilarated and breathless at the same time, where your head actually falls back a little from the strength of the sound coming at you.  

This is what it felt like in the Lupus Garage when The Harvest Season played, as the band's flow rolled up and back in small waves, then pounded the shore in a rush against the beach.

If they had been calling to people at the back of the church to come to Jesus, why, I might have been tempted to do just that.

Amen.

Lafayette: Petit Bayou in Vermilionville

Petit Bayou, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. August 2015.

The other day, I took a beginner's class in kayaking.

Petit Bayou, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. August 2015

We kayak babies twirled and splashed about in a large bathtub, so as not to be a danger to ourselves or others, said bathtub being Vermilionville's Petit Bayou.

Petit Bayou, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. August 2015

Kayaking or canoeing in Louisiana is a meditative experience. The water is slow. Small life forms glide and hop and hover and zoom just above and below the surface.

Petit Bayou, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. August 2015

It is nice to sit still in your vessel and look deep into the dark water to watch the movement of life.

Petit Bayou, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. August 2015

Lafayette: Vermilionville: Scenes From Earth Day 2015

Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. April 2015.

'twas a beautiful day in Vermilionville on Earth Day in April.

Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. April 2015.

Out the door of the Performance Center, in which the Lafayette Rhythm Devils were playing:

Splashy spring flora:

Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana. April 2015.

Lafayette: On the Porch with Chubby Carrier

Chubby Carrier, jam on the porch, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana

One of the things I love about South Louisiana is the symbiotic relationship between local musicians and the communities within Cajun/Creole Land. The communities hire and showcase the local musicians and the local musicians donate their artistry at times. When I say communities, I mean both the organizations and the individuals within.

Video of Chubby Carrier and Zydeco Joe playing - dancers on the porch toward the end.

Now, I'm sure there are complexities to the relationships, as there are with all relationships, but to this long-term visitor, they look solid.

Chubby Carrier and Zydeco Joe, jam on the porch, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana

At the 2014 Creole Heritage Day in Vermilionville, Chubby Carrier and company did a jam on the porch of one of the historic houses.

Chubby Carrier and Zydeco Joe, jam on the porch, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana

In the photo above, note the inter-generational aspect. Folks here are very aware of the need to bring up the young'ns' in the Cajun/Creole and Zydeco music. I wish girls were more involved, but I suspect their participation is growing. 

You don't see him here, but the man wearing a rastacap has a little boy, maybe six years old, and he already plays onstage with a rubboard. (And that little boy has a big stage presence.)

Lafayette: Vermilionville Spring

Vermilionville Living History and Folk Life, Lafayette, Louisiana

A couple of spring scenes at Vermilionville.

Vermilionville Living History and Folk Life, Lafayette, Louisiana

Louisiana: Courir de Mardi Gras: Introduction

Vermilionville courir de Mardi Gras, Lafayette, February 2014

The Mardi Gras come from all around, all around the center of town.
They come by once per year, asking for charity.
Sometimes it's a sweet potato, a sweet potato or pork rinds.
The Mardi Gras are on a great journey, all around the center of town.
They come by once per year, asking for charity.
Sometimes it's a skinny chicken, or three or four corn cobs.
Captain, captain, wave your flag, let's go to another neighbor's.
Asking for charity for everyone who'll come join us later,
Everyone who'll come join us later at the gumbo tonight!

Danse de Mardi Gras, English lyrics

Vermilionville courir de Mardi Gras, Lafayette, February 2014

To tell about the courir de Mardi Gras. ... Where to begin?

Vermilionville courir de Mardi Gras, Lafayette, February 2014

Here's where you can begin - by watching this one-hour documentary by Pat Mire, Dance for a Chicken:

Mardi Gras is essentially a game, and spectators are fair game for the players.

Source: Dance for a Chicken, Pat Mire

The song, Danse de Mardi Gras, is one of the songs traditionally sung during the courir.

Courir means run.

Mardi Gras is about more than what happens on that day

Source: Dance for a Chicken, Pat Mire

Vermilionville courir de Mardi Gras, Lafayette, February 2014

The complexity of the courir de Mardi Gras story reminds me of the matachine dance tradition in New Mexico. Both have origins that go back many centuries and both are an admixture of culture and time and place.

The courir de Mardi Gras is about: 

• The lean times toward the end of the long winter
• Communal assistance - the gathering of ingredients for one good meal
• Begging, humility
• Altered state via alcohol
• Becoming the "other" - black becomes white; white becomes black; men become women; women, men
• Parodying of those who have by those who haven't
• Tricksters
• Shedding the societal rules for a day  

Vermilionville courir de Mardi Gras, Lafayette, February 2014

When we participate in - and to watch is also to participate - the courir de Mardi Gras, we are participating in rituals that pre-date Roman times.   

Another version of the Danse de Mardi Gras for you, this one by Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys:

A slide show of the courir de Mardi Gras at Vermilionville earlier this month:

#30

Louisiana: Traditional Music: Louisiana Folk Roots

Cajun jam, hosted by Louisiana Folk Roots, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana.

There are a number of organizations that support traditional music of southern Louisiana. I say southern Louisiana for now, and I say traditional music for now, but both terms are fluid for me til I learn more.

Cajun jam, hosted by Louisiana Folk Roots, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana.

One group is Louisiana Folk Roots, which exists to "nurture, share and perpetuate Louisiana's rich cultural heritage," more specifically, its cajun and creole roots. 

Cajun jam, hosted by Louisiana Folk Roots, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana.

This past weekend, Louisiana Folk Roots hosted a cajun "super jam" at its headquarters in the historic Begnaud House in Vermilionville. 

Back of Begnaud House. Cajun jam, hosted by Louisiana Folk Roots, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana.

It was rainy and a little chilly, and my tentative take is that this keeps southern Louisianans at home. So there were perhaps fewer in attendance than would otherwise have been if the weather had been better. Even so, there was plenty of good energy here among both the musicians and the appreciative listeners. 

There was a giant kettle of pork jambalaya, too.

Pork jambalaya. Cajun jam, hosted by Louisiana Folk Roots, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana.

It was especially fine when I went out to the back porch, rocked on the wooden bench, and looked out at the pond while listening to the music within:

Pond behind Begnaud House. Cajun jam, hosted by Louisiana Folk Roots, Vermilionville, Lafayette, Louisiana.

  

A great blue heron swooped through while I rocked and listened. 

There's a wide age range at these jams, and that's essential if traditional music is to thrive. More girls and women needed, though.

Is it the coolest thing that I can go listen to cajun or zydeco every single Saturday and Sunday, practically on my doorstep?

Yes, yes it is.