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… by Leslie Pariseau | Jul, 2020

Web feature I have enough tear gas in my blood to know what doomsday tastes like. I know theft because it’s in my lineage and know how to find reclamation in the wreckage. Could mold myself a reenactment of the moment… by Clarissa Brooks | Jul, 2020

An essay from the Place Issue He seemed to be governed by boomerang physics, propelling ahead of me and quickly beyond my line of vision—out to the edge of the flickering earth, to sniff the horizon (scent-trails of coyotes, perhaps,… by Holly Haworth | Aug, 2020

An essay from the Place Issue Today, I venture proudly and safely into the straight world outside the confines of bars and clubs once designated specifically as “gay” spaces. I can be free. This wouldn’t have been the case a… by Martin Padgett | Aug, 2020

A Points South essay from the Place Issue As of today’s journey, our family has been in quarantine for more than a hundred days. Summer camp plans have fallen by the wayside, much like those color-coded home-school schedules parents passed… by Karen Good Marable | Aug, 2020

A feature essay from the Spring 2020 issue. I wasn’t sure how to explain to a rising high-school junior why I’d followed her and her classmates to Belize. I’d met Pierre-Floyd a few months before during a tour of Frederick… by Casey Parks | Mar, 2020

A Points South essay from the Place Issue Stop ignoring your body while you have one, you tell yourself. Stop succumbing to despairing visions of genocide. Pause the video of George Floyd’s strangled voice calling out for his mother, begging… by Mik Awake | Aug, 2020

 A Letter from the Editor, Place Issue. A tiresome stereotype about the American South is that this place is a monolith. Growing up in Arkansas, with the two sides of my family living in different regions of the state, I… by Eliza Borné | Jul, 2020

We would like to hear from you.  The magazine will begin publishing letters to the editor in the fall issue and going forward. If you would like to respond to a story published in the magazine, we welcome your letter. by Oxford American | Jun, 2019

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Tamara Reynolds’s series, The Drake, documents with arresting clarity the community in and around the Drake Motel in Nashville, Tennessee, a city block populated by what she calls the “resentfully tolerated.”

A feature essay from the South Carolina Music Issue. 

There’s a high-achieving aptitude to it all, a certain polyglot prodigiousness. He knows how to hack and fuse genres, how to enter and exit. Part of his genius is that he’s an unrepentant copyist; for a time, his motto was a saying gleaned from Paul Rand, the graphic artist behind logos for companies like IBM and Enron: “don’t try to be original, just try to be good.”

A supplement to our South Carolina Music Issue

A rap IT octopus, Matt “DJ Wiz” Jones always kept a spare hand for taking pictures and his photo album from that era is an adhesive historic designation.

An installment in our weekly photography series, Eyes on the South

Eyes on the South curator Jeff Rich interviewed artist Alex Harris, whose series Our Strange New Land is the High Museum’s most recent Picturing the South commission. They were joined by the associate curator of photography at the museum, Gregory Harris, who worked closely with Alex on the exhibition.

A Points South essay from the South Carolina Music Issue.

Before she was Catwoman on the television show Batman in the 1960s, before she spoke out against the Vietnam War and was exiled for it, before her redemption and the sold-out shows with a multicultural international repertoire at Café Carlyle in New York City in the 1990s, she was simply Eartha Mae Keith, a little girl who never knew her daddy and whose mama had given her away before she was school-aged because she couldn’t afford to keep her.

Track 17 – “My Father Is a Witness, Oh, Bless God” by the Plantation Echoes

Established in early 1933, the Plantation Echoes were made up of fifty Gullah field hands who enjoyed singing spirituals, most dating back to slavery. A handful of the singers were, in fact, former slaves themselves. Heyward’s praise of the Plantation Echoes was effusive. “The entertainment is not only highly unique but enlightening,” he later remarked. “There is an electrifying quality to the ‘shouting’ and the performers’ ability to shift from one time to another in perfect unison is a revelation.” 

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.”

A Points South essay from the South Carolina Music Issue.

A problem solver, Jones would ultimately get his drums from his mother’s record collection, as her Charles Wright and Isaac Hayes albums began migrating into his room. “There wasn’t enough money for records,” he recalled. “Or I couldn’t find them. So I’d record songs on the radio off the reel-to-reel, and take the reel-to-reel to the party.” There’s a photograph of Jones deejaying the Charleston YMCA wearing pleated baggies and a fade, with a Michelob parked in front of his Akai séance machine.

A liner note essay from our South Carolina Music Issue

We all know that Southern music needs to be heard and celebrated. However, visibility (exposure) cannot be pitted against our chance at a healthy life. The Oxford American’s ask of under-resourced Southern musicians to donate their song licenses is exploitative, and must end. 

A feature essay from the South Carolina Music Issue. 

Outside of his studies, Ron joined, and eventually presided over, the A&T karate club, and still made time to stay sharp on his saxophone. “People talk about born geniuses, but I always thought of Ron as a self-made genius,” recalled Ron’s college roommate, Keenan Sarratt. “He got his through hard work. That’s one thing I learned from him—nothing’s impossible. If it couldn’t be done, you’d have to convince him it couldn’t be done.” 

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By.

As Center for Documentary Studies (CDS) audio director John Biewen preps for the next season of Scene on Radio, the podcast is headed to 5 million downloads, episodes are being used in classrooms and independent discussion groups across the country, and media outlets—Los Angeles Review of Books, Columbia Journalism Review, Buzzfeed, among others—have taken note. Here, John sets the scene for the upcoming season.

In an effort to manifest William Faulkner’s idea that “The past is never dead. It’s not even past,” Lake Roberson Newton’s project, Flowers for the Dead, examines the preservation of historical homes, exploring how previously private spaces are transformed for, and by, public consumption.