Zachary Richard Rediscovers His Parents

Zachary Richard didn’t think it would work.

The Cajun musician and activist suffered a mild stroke in October 2010, and because of it he was paralyzed on his left side. A month before the stroke, he’d gone in for a physical and the doctor congratulated him on starting his 60s in such good shape, but it happened anyway. 

On Stage in New Orleans in 2016

[Updated] My Spilt Milk's contributors and particularly photographers Patrick Ainsworth and Steven Hatley see a lot of music in a year--more than we write about. In 2016, we want to document that and put all those photos in one place. This post will be updated regularly, and each time it is freshened, we'll draw attention to it again. When it gets too big, we'll create a Part II, Part III, and more if necessary. Whatever the case, we'll have a photographic record of the year in music as it happens.

Nothing's Easy in Cheryl Gerber's Big Easy

Too often, photo books on New Orleans have a simple editorial stance. New Orleans is resilient. New Orleans is eccentric. New Orleans is noble. New Orleans is … you name it, and while each of those stances is right, each is only part of the story. That approach undersells the city’s rich and complicated nature. Photographer Cheryl Gerber’s New Orleans: Life and Death in the Big Easy not only honors the often contradictory character of New Orleans but makes it the book’s central theme. 

Two Ways to Hear Nathaniel Rateliff, and Other Concerts

Sunday night, Nathaniel Rateliff and The Night Sweats played Tipitina’s, and by the end of the night I wasn’t sure what I thought about the show. The band couldn’t wear its collective love of Stax/Volt R&B more obviously if they were all wearing T-shirts from its museum’s gift shop, but for most of the show, I wanted the band to groove harder when the tempos dropped and the songs became more intimate.

Voodoo News: A Long Last Look at a Shortened Voodoo

It was a shame to have Voodoo 2015 come to an early end with Sunday lost to rain and mud, but judging by the photos organizers posted on Facebook, the grounds were at least miserable if not dangerous. And, it’s hard to imagine who made the long, slow, precarious slog out through ankle-deep damp mud at the end of the night Saturday and didn’t ask themselves if anyone was worth another day of that.

An Unfocused "Homage"

In the months after Hurricane Katrina, I remember talking to a writer who speculated that it would be more than a decade before The Times-Picayune would go a week without the word “Katrina” appearing. He didn’t say it cynically. He rightly recognized Katrina as such a momentous event that we would continue to deal with its aftermath for at least a decade. At the moment, all skepticism is valid as the barrage of tenth anniversary coverage feels like overkill no one asked for that doesn’t illuminate anything new.

Pages