A conversation with Feufollet’s Chris Stafford and Kelli Jones-Savoy.
Since their inception more than a decade ago as a band of teenage musical wunderkinds, Feufollet has been leading a revival in Cajun music. Their new album, Two Universes, debuts vocalist and fiddler Kelli Jones-Savoy, as well as a strikingly different sound: less accordion and more honky-tonk. Stream the album after the jump.
Mike Frolich’s artistic legacy in the Saturn Bar
One of my many justifications for keeping the devil was Frolich’s claim that his paintings were created in part for the children of the Ninth Ward, more of whom run through our house than the Saturn Bar. Kids need a relationship with their devils as much as adults do. Instead of renouncing or banishing them, children should know their features and particular hues, their habitats and gestures. Keeping them in steady sight, they’re easier to manage.
An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.
When Cash Money was started several years before by the brothers Baby and Slim Williams, Kilo G had been its flagship artist. He was only fourteen when he met Baby and Slim, too young to sign a contract; they’d had to take a ferry across the river to find his grandmother, so she could sign in his place. Before Mannie Fresh, before Lil Wayne—before the fleet of Bentleys and yellow Hummers that roamed the streets of New Orleans like an occupying army—there had been Kilo G.
In Bill Joyce’s hands, The Man in the Moon is the story of a solitary man, bereaved of his parents in infancy and raised on the moon by a brigade of moonbots and other friendly lunar creatures. He listens to the wishes of children that have been carried up to his home by lost balloons and, unable to cure children’s inevitable fear of the dark, devises a way to make the moon shine at night.
Cole Caswell’s photography explores the lives of people who live off the conventional grid, such as a homeless DIY punk couch-surfing in Savannah and a retired stock trader/primitive-skills-master hiding out on a swampy homestead. Caswell develops his images, all tintypes, on the road in a hand-built portable darkroom.
An essay from our forthcoming place issue
At her restaurant, Mosquito Supper Club, and in her cookbook of the same name, Melissa Martin sets out to record the foods and recipes that cannot be found on New Orleans’s restaurant menus or at a Popeyes drive-thru (shrimp boulettes, thistle salad, muscadine compote) and those that have become so synonymous with Louisiana cooking (crawfish étouffée, seven kinds of gumbo, oyster soup) that their points of origin bear reminding.
The series Slow Light by AnnieLaurie Erickson documents oil refineries up and down the Mississippi River. “When I first moved to Louisiana,” Erickson says of the project,” I was struck by the appearance of oil refineries at night, which looked like strange forbidden cities.”
In the latest installation for its Picturing the South project, Atlanta’s High Museum of Art presents Our Strange New Land: Photographs by Alex Harris. Taken over the course of two years and encompassing most of the South, Harris’s series documents independent film sets, exploring “how the region is seen, imagined, and created by contemporary visual storytellers.”