A symbolic act doesn’t actually change anything; it’s only a symbol, after all. But sometimes a symbolic act can change the way people see themselves, and change their understanding about what’s happening and about what is to come.
Last Thursday night’s reopening of the grandly restored Mahalia Jackson Theater in Louis Armstrong Park was just such a moment. The park is the home of Congo Square, where slaves used to gather and sing African songs, and the spot where jazz was eventually born.
Both the park and the theater were casualties of Katrina flooding, and the wire that fenced them off has been a continual reminder of the devastation that the flooding brought. So the reopening was, as mayor Ray Nagin told me afterwards, “awesomely, outstandingly, naturally New Orleans.”
Vocalist Phil Manuell (who also organized the evening) and violinist Michael Ward were an early highlight. Manuell’s style would have to be described technically as smooth jazz, but the silky soul of his Al Jarreau-esque vocals and the energy in the arrangements far transcended the shlocky sound generally associated with the genre. I don’t think I’ve ever heard “You’ve Got a Friend” sound downright sexy, but Manuell and Ward pulled it off in spades.
Jeremy Davenport and Ingrid Lucia paired up to give fun and flirty renditions of a couple of standards, and their chemistry suited the mood well. Freddie Omar lent some Latin flavor to the evening, shining especially in a funkier, groovier version of Buena Vista Social Club‘s great “Chan Chan.”
But to be sure, the best was yet to come. The great Marva Wright came to the stage and seemed fragile, resting briefly on a stool before beginning her first song. But when that majestic voice poured out and began a tingle-inducing version of “Amazing Grace” adapted to the tune of “House of the Rising Sun,” the room snapped to attention.
And when she followed up with an energetic, bouncy take on “Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher,” the entire crowd was transfixed and transported (even as Nagin worked his Blackberry from the front row, confirming once again that he’ll never get my support — how can I vote for a man who texts during Marva?).
Now, in most towns, once Marva Wright has hit the stage, the show is over; who’s going to follow her? But New Orleans’ roster is incredibly deep with talent, and out came Irma Thomas, wearing a bright yellow African wrap and that 1,000-watt smile.
She sang several songs from her newest CD, in addition to the song that she slyly calls the New Orleans National Anthem, the Neville/Toussaint ballad “It’s Raining.” Allen Toussaint himself beamed up at her from the front row with approval.
As the MC began to read the first few words of introduction for Kermit Ruffins, a black-clad figure appeared, slinking behind the band, holding a trumpet aloft, and sure enough, began to play. It was a fitting entrance for the jokester and master trumpeter who “comes to party,” as Manuell said afterwards, and his sly smile didn’t disappear the entire evening.
Ruffins is one of the original members of the most powerful second-line jazz combo in town, Rebirth Brass Band, but since his departure from that group, he’s been drifting more and more into what my friend aptly described as party music.
But when Ruffins lit into a driving cover of “I Can See Clearly Now,” there wasn’t a toe in the place that wasn’t tapping, and many of those toe-tapers were dancing in the aisles. And when Kermit so joyfully and triumphantly sang out the words of that chorus, “I can see clearly now, the rain has gone / It’s gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day,” it didn’t just sound like a declaration. It sounded like a promise.
The entire lineup came out for a couple of rousing numbers to end the show — the Professor Longhair classic “Go To the Mardi Gras” and, naturally, “When the Saints Go Marching In.” True to the egalitarian musical culture of the city, the performers filed off the stage and down the aisles for nearly fifteen minutes during the last song, celebrating with the audience more than singing to them.
What a show of solidarity with the great people of a great city. What a thrill to be able to clap each of them on the back and say a word of praise. What a symbol of why we must continue to rebuild and restore, every single day.
– Michael Dunaway