A few questions prompted by the second line for Uncle Lionel Batiste.
Email this pageThe viewing for the late "Uncle" Lionel Batiste will take place Thursday from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. at Charbonnet Funeral Home (1615 St. Phillip St.). The funeral will take place Friday at the Mahalia Jackson Theater for the Performing Arts (805 N. Rampart St.). There will be a viewing starting at 9 a.m., and the funeral service will start at 11 a.m. It will be followed by a jazz funeral, and after the procession he will be interred at Mount Olivet Cemetery (4100 Norman Mayer Blvd.).
Those who wish to help with Batiste's medical and funeral expenses can contribute to the Uncle Lionel Memorial Fund by visiting Treme2012.com or visiting any branch of Liberty Bank and Trust or by sending a check to:
"Uncle" Lionel Memorial Fund
c/o Liberty Bank and Trust
P.O. Box 60131
New Orleans, LA 70160-0131
Your Spilt Milk
Nice multimedia-ing.
I felt some of the same things. I was in New Orleans on assignment for something else when the second line came upon us in the Quarter, people doing their second line dance at me while I stood on the sideline taking pictures.
I think any response to death is inadequate to rationalize it, but I also feel there is a "this is how we do" aspect to this and other New Orleans traditions that makes me wonder if it is more of "this is what we do" to participate in a collectivized idea of New Orleans.
Which is cool too. I think everyone in that second line was having an authentic reaction to something whether it is was Uncle Lionel or something else. It was beautiful and sweet no matter what thread was running through it. My daughter was with me so I tried to explain what was going on and to her, a parade makes much more sense than death.
I think there's a lot going on in this conversation, which is why I added the note about a civic event. The second line may well be more about New Orleans than it is about its putative subject, but the distance I felt between the event and Uncle Lionel was disturbing.
I always thought wakes, funerals, gatherings at the gravesite and the ensuing trip to the bar to tell all your relatives that you hope the next time you see them it will be under happier conditions was pretty icky to begin with. i felt a lot more comfortable friday, where i saw scores of friends who are friends without regard to pigmentation, showing up to honor a guy who was all about being beyond pigmentation. i pretty much ignore the tourists and cyberparasites with nothing better to do than borg it up. they are an annoying byproduct of life in new orleans, tweeting along like a swarm of formosa termites. just don't let them land on you.
That's a fair point. The size and nature of the crowd may have something to do with the very specific nature of Uncle Lionel's life and the connections he made in the extended New Orleans music community. He may have made a lot of people feel like they were close to him or had a meaningful moment with him, and maybe they did.
I think if people take the time to leave their house to do something, when they could just as easily be eating chips and playing video games or watching tv, they shouldn't be questioned for it. any time people gather peacefully is a happy time. sure, people might not act the way we want them to(i.e. talking on their phones, looking disinterested,etc.), but i think the reason that bothers is that we have different levels of connection to uncle lionel. and maybe it's a little natural to feel jealous and possessive of his friendship, of his spirit. "who are you? i never saw you. who are you to celebrate this man?" but that kind of attitude is no good. i think we should always err on the side of inclusion, not exclusion. i can't think of another renown local musician who was so visible as uncle lionel. he was so available. any reaction to his death will probably not be commensurate with the amount of love he put forth.
Part of the question is if people are really celebrating Uncle Lionel, or if they're celebrating a chance to celebrate. Does the reason for the event matter? And I think we have to ask questions so that we're aware of what's gained and what's lost, particularly where traditional cultural practices are concerned. Is a tradition a tradition if it's practiced in a non-traditional way? Is it still meaningful? Or is it meaningful in a different way? Obviously, I'm skeptical about the relationships that people had with Uncle Lionel; if in fact many of the celebrants had distant, superficial relationships to him, does that invalidate their presence, or does the second line become more of a celebration of life in New Orleans? And if that's the case, is that so wrong?
I know why I was there. And you're forcing me to ask why you were there. Exploitation becomes viral very quickly. Don't f... W the man himself. Raise this question when we aren't talking about someone as loved as mr. Batiste
Im becoming angry and irrational about this subject because I considered uncle Lionel a friend and this almost feels like an attack on him
I posted this video to ask some questions about the people who attended second lines, and didn't intend it to reflect on Uncle Lionel. To the extent that it does, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure there's a context for these questions that won't inadvertently sideswipe somebody. If I ask these questions after a SAPC second line, could I be seen as dumping on that SAPC? If I ask them after an Indians second line, could it also look like I'm questioning that crew's drawing power?
I asked these questions to start a dialogue, but that dialogue needs to start internally as we examine our own motives and behaviors. You've clearly thought about your place at second lines, and certainly at Uncle Lionel's, and I suspect that makes you different from many who were there - or who go to second lines in general. While you were there for Uncle Lionel, I suspect others were simply there for the event, and he was the excuse not the reason.
A couple of things this makes me wonder.....I'm not trying to be negative Nancy here. But to some extent, it seems like in our post-K "I'm more New Orleans than you are" culture, not being at Uncle Lionel's second line, or not tweeting "RIP Uncle Lionel," etc, is akin to not being in the cool crowd. Yes, he's been a huge presence in our city for years, but it seems like for a moment maybe he became the poster child of commercialization of New Orleans and it's heritage and culture (not knocking him, please understand that.) How many people were there, because they knew the man, or because it was the place to be for the uber-New Orleanians?
My other thought, in reply to John's comment above, you considered him a friend, so I understand to some extent you probably feel protective. I just don't know if I agree with the idea of bringing it up with "someone not as loved" as UL. Doesn't seem really fair to belittle anyone's death. I think this situation would be the prime time to discuss it, as it's something that's gotten significant media coverage and has been on the tip of folks tongues.
Alex, I think a lot of what you are seeing is the ol' Plato thing about the shadows on the wall and everyone having their own brain and thus their own reality. To me seeing Uncle Lionel was all about the joy and color of being in New Orleans. If ever I was out with friends from out of town I always hoped to run into him just so that they could have some of the same experience. Some more of what you are seeing is that now, post-TREME, when you go out to a community event sometimes it is like a "Where's Waldo?" just trying to find your friends. Once upon a time you could go out and know or recognize most everybody.
John, do not get too angry. As much fun as it was to see Uncle Lionel out and about, it is always a supreme pleasure to run into you. Living the transitory life of working with the horses at the track, I do not get to be in New Orleans as much as I like to, but the time I do get to be there is much appreciated. Uncle Lionel will be missed but we can all help his spirit carry on.
Ah'ight, these types of conversations and attitudes always really give me the deep creeps. I always find it strange when anyone thinks they know what it means to miss New Orleans. I mean, really, it's even embarrassing.
I wore a hand-tailored fine white linen suit and my best panama hat for Uncle Lionel's 2nd Line. http://twitpic.com/a9sqmx I did this because the family asked that we wear white. I bought that t-shirt from his Grand Daughters out front of Kermit's the night before.
I didn't have these things when we met in Jackson Square back 1983. No he didn't know my name, but over the decades he knew my face and always made me feel like he knew my name. I sat and spoke with him in Jackson Square no more than 2 weeks before he died. No he didn't know my name ya'heard. We talked about Drew Brees. Of all the things I never heard Uncle Lionel say in the 30yrs since we met, "What are you doing in this 2nd Line" is at the top of your list of cultural conundrums.
A lot of these people didn't know how to march, they were milling about behind the band. It was a problem but so the fickn what? It is our job to teach them, not denigrate. If you can't show them the compassion and encouragement which Uncle Lionel showed everyone --esp visitors- then you got no business in the 2nd line.
Sinn Féin
What I hoped to do was get people to think about why and how they participate - something you clearly do. I asked the questions not because I had answers in mind but because I had a suspicion that for many, they weren't being asked. I don't have a clear sense of the rights and wrongs where memorial second lines - or second lines in general - are concerned. I put them out there to start a conversation. I see Alison Fensterstock picked it up after people had similar questions about the T-P's photos of Uncle Lionel and Wendell Pierce's questioning on Twitter of the memorial watches. It's a good piece: http://www.nola.com/music/index.ssf/2012/07/uncle_lionel_batistes_memori...
By the way, Alison Fensterstock wrote
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