Fat Tuesday

Everywhere Else It’s Just Tuesday

Everywhere else today is just Tuesday, but here in New Orleans it is Mardi Gras.  I’ve been out making new images this lovely day, but here is a look back on a few of my favorite images from Mardi Gras past.  Happy Mardi Gras!

Music and Mardi Gras go hand in hand, so marching with the band is the best way to experience the St. Anne's parade on Fat Tuesday. Starting from the Bywater neighborhood, bedazzled, costumed throngs dance to the beat as the parade meanders into the Marigny clogging up Frenchman street with revelry before tumbling into the French Quarter and dissipating into the streets.

Music and Mardi Gras go hand in hand, so marching with the band is the best way to experience the St. Anne’s parade on Fat Tuesday. Starting from the Bywater neighborhood, bedazzled, costumed throngs dance to the beat as the parade meanders into the Marigny clogging up Frenchman street with revelry before tumbling into the French Quarter and dissipating into the streets.

The Pussyfooters is a marching club of bubble-gum bedecked ladies who dance and perform in multiple parades during Mardi Gras season. I don't know how they do it, but I do know there is a port-a-potty involved and it looks like oodles of fun.

The Pussyfooters is a marching club of bubble-gum bedecked ladies who dance and perform in multiple parades during Mardi Gras season. I don’t know how they do it, but I do know there is a port-a-potty involved and it looks like oodles of fun.

Policemen keep the crowds off of the parade route to make way for the annual Bacchusaurus float from the Krewe of Bacchus during their annual meander through Uptown. Streets become littered with uncaught beads and empty plastic sacks that held precious clutches of beads. At these parades you could almost stand still on the sidelines and still get covered in beads without much effort at all. Showing skin is certainly taboo during these family affairs. Children sit in makeshift benches affixed to the tops of ladders that families roll down to the parade route to establish a good spot to be able to collect beads. "Throw me something, mister!" is the call.

Policemen keep the crowds off of the parade route to make way for the annual Bacchusaurus float from the Krewe of Bacchus during their annual meander through Uptown. Streets become littered with uncaught beads and empty plastic sacks that held precious clutches of beads. At these parades you could almost stand still on the sidelines and still get covered in beads without much effort at all. Showing skin is certainly taboo during these family affairs. Children sit in makeshift benches affixed to the tops of ladders that families roll down to the parade route to establish a good spot to be able to collect beads. “Throw me something, mister!” is the call.

Men dressed as Skeletons take a break at the Backstreet Cultural Museum in the Treme neighborhood on Mardi Gras day. Early on Mardi Gras morning we'd pile into our friend Kristian's suburban and troll the streets looking for the Skeletons in action, making a racket and bringing the city to life, threatening, "You next!" I still have yet to see them in action.

Men dressed as Skeletons take a break at the Backstreet Cultural Museum in the Treme neighborhood on Mardi Gras day. Early on Mardi Gras morning we’d pile into our friend Kristian’s suburban and troll the streets looking for the Skeletons in action, making a racket and bringing the city to life, threatening, “You next!” I still have yet to see them in action.

This is the single frame I took at the Ernie K-Doe Mother-in-Law Lounge on Mardi Gras morning 2009. My merry band arrived at the bar to have an early morning drink with Miss Antoinette before the day got into full swing, only to be greeted with the sad news of her passing. At the time I didn't quite understand the significant of Antoinette K-Doe, the widow of Ernie K-Doe, the lounge's namesake who still lived on at the lounge as a life-size, dressed-to-the-nines mannequin in the lounge. As we left the lounge in a somber mood it became clear what a presence Miss Antoinette was in the city as the local radio station, WWOZ, broadcast the news of her passing. I can't say that I ever met her, but I won't ever forget that morning.

This is the single frame I took at the Ernie K-Doe Mother-in-Law Lounge on Mardi Gras morning 2009. My merry band arrived at the bar to have an early morning drink with Miss Antoinette before the day got into full swing, only to be greeted with the sad news of her passing. At the time I didn’t quite understand the significant of Antoinette K-Doe, the widow of Ernie K-Doe, the lounge’s namesake who still lived on at the lounge as a life-size, dressed-to-the-nines mannequin in the lounge. As we left the lounge in a somber mood it became clear what a presence Miss Antoinette was in the city as the local radio station, WWOZ, broadcast the news of her passing. I can’t say that I ever met her, but I won’t ever forget that morning.

It’s Carnival Time

Woman dressed as Marie Antoinette laughs while looking into a mirror on Mardi Gras day.

It’s that time of year again, y’all!  Carnival time!  As I’ve been spending my evenings and weekends prepping for my fourth Mardi Gras trip, I’ve been thinking back to five years ago when my colleague and friend, Janelle Nanos, asked me if I wanted to go with her to New Orleans while she was writing a feature story on Mardi Gras.  She enticed me, “It is going to be a great time, and after all, they are going to need photos for the story!” While I’ve always have had a strange attraction to New Orleans–even before I ever stepped foot in the city–I’ve never had the actual desire to go to Mardi Gras.  Of course, I was a victim of believing the stereotypes of booze, boobs, and beads.

I went along with Janelle for a purple, green, and gold colored ride and have never quite been the same since.  I discovered kindred spirits in the people who live in or make yearly pilgrimages to the Big Easy.  Many of the people who I met on that first trip, including lovely Jenny (pictured above), have been friends ever since.  Our bond is no less strong even if we only see each other once a year.  We smile, we hug, we compliment attire, and we weave our way through the magic of Mardi Gras day, knowing we will see each other next time around.

New Orleans is a photographer’s dream at any time of the year, but during Carnival season, it is visual overload.  I rubbed elbows with families, college kids, and all kinds of parade lovers while snapping photos with one hand and catching beads with the other.  I prowled the quiet early morning streets with my new friends in search of a flash of feathers from a Mardi Gras Indian.  And then I fell down the rabbit hole when I arrived at the beginning of the St. Anne’s Parade.  I was told to bring a costume, but the costumes I saw were no Halloween-grade costumes, they were visual splendor.  Riotous convergences of fabric, glitter, quirk, and creativity.  I was hooked.

This Mardi Gras sceptic returned to DC with a changed mind.  I know the experience can take many shapes and forms, but what I really learned is that Mardi Gras is what you make it.  As the Rebirth Brass Bad sings, “Do whatcha wanna!”  And if you want to go and aren’t sure where to start, perhaps our story that was published in the January/February 2010 issue of National Geographic Traveler is a good place to start.  I hope that it inspires people to see beyond Bourbon Street and find out what Mardi Gras is really about.  Take a look at the layouts below and go to National Geographic’s website to read Janelle’s full article and see more of my photos.  Clearly, it converted me!