Cultural Integrity and Local Music in Cape Breton and New Orleans

Based primarily on ethnographic work in Cape Breton and in New Orleans, this chapter is about how local music connects to cultural integrity–a concept that can be useful in thinking about how expressive culture relates to local concepts of good and satisfying lives in particular places. People in Cape Breton and New Orleans care about their music and tend to see it both as integral to a good life and emblematic of a kind of wholeness in the local culture. Yet in both places, economic displacement and development driven by gentrification threatens the sustainability of this cultural integrity.

Author(s):  
Robin Roberts ◽  
Frank de Caro

This chapter focuses on a new parade, a new surrogation, that has assumed an empty spot in the Carnival calendar, Lundi Gras, the Monday before Fat Tuesday. This chapter explores the Krewe of Red Beans and the ways that this new parade draws on New Orleans culture, from its signature red beans and rice dish, to the Mardi Gras Indians’ costumes, to the second-line tradition. Like the other new Downtown parades, the Red Beans fosters artistic expression (and competition); displays whimsical and political humor based on local culture; and valorizes the domestic (a common meal and food stuff), and thus the feminine. And like the other new Mardi Gras parades, Red Beans wrestles with an evolving New Orleans and the role transplants play in precipitating change.


2019 ◽  
pp. 125-134
Author(s):  
Shelley Ingram

In 2012, a forecaster on The Weather Channel allegedly reported that an incoming hurricane was a threat to “the landmass between New Orleans and Mobile.” The folklore of the “landmass” internet meme cycle that followed, in which residents of the Mississippi Gulf Coast mocked their own invisibility from mainstream consciousness, could easily be dismissed as an inconsequential bit of fun. However, this chapter argues that the meme is part of a larger pattern of expressive culture that, when examined, reveals lingering trauma from Hurricane Katrina and the disturbing systems of oppression—racial, economic, cultural—still at work in the region and, consequently, the nation.


Author(s):  
Michael Ian Borer

Equally reviled and revered as “Sin City,” Las Vegas is both exceptional and emblematic of contemporary American cultural practices and tastes. Michael Ian Borer takes us inside the burgeoning Las Vegas craft beer scene to witness how locals use craft beer to create and foster not just a local culture but a locals’ culture. Through compelling detailed ethnographic accounts and interviews, Vegas Brews provides an unprecedented look into the ways that brewers, distributors, bartenders, and drinkers fight against the perceived and preconceived norm about what “happens in Vegas” and lay claim to a part of their city that is too often overshadowed by the bright lights of tourist sites. In doing so, Borer shows how our interactions with the things we care about—and the ways that we care about how they’re made, treated, and consumed—can lead to new senses of belonging and connections with and to others and the places where we live. In a world where people and things move around at an extraordinary rate, the folks Borer spent time talking (and drinking) with remind us to slow down and learn how to taste the “good life,” or at least a semblance of it, even in a city where style is often valued over substance.


2012 ◽  
Vol 13 (3) ◽  
pp. 213-224 ◽  
Author(s):  
Lynnell L. Thomas

Occupying the space between cultural reproduction and theatrical production, the HBO series Treme offers an important vantage point from which to analyze the intersection of race, class, culture, and media representation animating New Orleans’s post-Katrina tourist identity. Treme illustrates the tension between the welcome recognition and celebration of New Orleans black expressive culture and its spectacularization and commodification. The resuscitation of tourist tropes and an emphasis on jazz and heritage music in the series often render the city’s history of racial conflict and injustice invisible or subordinate to new narratives of cross-racial unity among Katrina survivors and paternalistic actions by white characters uniquely positioned to express the community’s outrage. Treme takes up where the disaster tour leaves off, giving viewers - televisual tourists - access to purportedly authentic places, people, events, and experiences that exist beyond the tourist landscape and that suggest a racial remapping of the city.


2017 ◽  
Vol 11 (2) ◽  
pp. 128
Author(s):  
Craig Edward Colten

This paper considers the contrasting and deliberate efforts to reshape the Tluvial futures of two important American cities which essentially re-wrote their riparian heritages. Chicago’s aggressive extension of its commercial reach through its artiTicial connection with the Mississippi has become embodied in its environmental, political, and literary history. Conversely, New Orleans crafted a defensive local culture in its environmental history, politics, and literature. The contrasting investments in river-altering infrastructure and urban relationships with the one river expose the signiTicance of each city’s position within a watershed and in shaping its respective cultural history and its identity.


2021 ◽  
Vol 71 (1) ◽  
pp. 41-60
Author(s):  
Juliane Braun

Scholars who have studied the contested meaning of “creole” in Louisiana have typically maintained that the “Creole myth,” that is the strategic redefinition of the term “creole” to refer to the white descendants of Louisiana’s original French and Spanish settlers, emerged during or shortly after the Civil War. Drawing on a newspaper article and two case studies related to the New Orleans theatre, this essay proposes a new periodization for the emergence of the “Creole myth” and a re-evaluation of the cultural and political work it was doing. I want to suggest that conceiving of the Creole myth as an antebellum phenomenon (rather than examining it in the context of the postbellum era) allows us to see that its creation was not just motivated by French Louisianian concerns about cultural integrity and ethnic survival but also by this population’s anxiety about race and the status and mobility of free people of color. As a rhetorical tool that gained traction in the 1830s, the strategic redefinition of “creole” to exclude all people of African descent operated in tandem with other attempts to curtail the rights of free people of color, preventing their social, economic, and political ascent during the antebellum period. Ceux qui ont étudié le sens contesté du terme « créole » en Louisiane ont typiquement maintenu que le « mythe créole », c’est-à-dire, la redéfinition stratégique du terme « créole » à ne comprendre que les descendants blancs des colons d’origine française ou espagnole est apparu pendant ou peu après la guerre de Sécession. S’appuyant sur un article de journal et sur deux études de cas du théâtre à la Nouvelle-Orléans, cet article propose une nouvelle périodisation de l’émergence du « mythe créole » ainsi qu’une réévaluation du travail politique et culturelle qu’il exerçait. Je veux suggérer qu’en concevant le mythe créole comme phénomène d’avant la guerre de Sécession (plutôt que de l’examiner dans le contexte de l’après-guerre), nous comprenons que sa création a été motivé non seulement par des préoccupations d’intégrité culturelle et de survie ethnique de la part des Franco-louisianais, mais aussi par leur anxiété raciale par rapport à la mobilité des gens de couleur libres. Comme outil rhétorique qui a gagné du terrain dans les années 1830, la redéfinition stratégique de « créole » afin d’exclure tous ceux d’ascendance africaine fonctionnait en combinaison avec d’autres tentatives à restreindre les droits des gens de couleur libres, empêchant leur ascension sociale, économique et politique pendant l’ère d’avant la guerre de Sécession.


Sweet Spots ◽  
2018 ◽  
pp. 209-232
Author(s):  
Joel Dinerstein

There has been a weekly Sunday African-American second-line parade for 150 years in New Orleans--a diffused democratic street ritual of performativity enacted through dance, music, and stylin'. The main action focuses on the sponsoring Social Aid and Pleasure Club, who parade between the ropes with their hired brass-band, on-stage and for public consumption. Yet the so-called second-liners rolling and dancing outside the ropes provide the peak moments of aesthetic excellence in their claiming of interstitial spaces: on the sidewalks between the street and house-lines; on church-steps, atop truck beds or along rooftops; on porches, stoops, and billboards. Drawing on a living tradition of New Orleans African-American expressive culture, individuals display creative style as both personal pleasure and social invigoration. The physical gestures and non-verbal messages of this vernacular dance are here analysed through a series of images by second-line photographer Pableaux Johnson.


2013 ◽  
Vol 57 (1) ◽  
pp. 70-87 ◽  
Author(s):  
Rachel Carrico

Five days before her death in 2009, Antoinette K-Doe paraded as Queen of the Camel Toe Lady Steppers, an all-female marching group. Danced articulations of race, class, and locality, performed by old and new New Orleanians, reveal why negotiations of the city's “local” culture are central to concerns of resource inequity before and after Hurricane Katrina.


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