Usually one must travel to many places to experience different people’s cultures, but there are those places where many cultures have lived side-by-side for a very long time. One of those places is New Orleans.    The unique blending of the diverse cultures, which make New Orleans, has often been likened to a favorite local dish : gumbo. There is no one recipe for gumbo, it is usually made from what is at hand along with a pleasingly predictable combination of simple ingredients and spices.     And just so is the music and culture of New Orleans.    To a person like myself, this place is the richest vein of American music. Like one theory of inter-galactic space travel, it is a worm-hole through which one can visit the sources of blues and jazz unique to America. There, the heroes to many young folks are still the likes of Louis Armstrong, Professor Longhair, and Fats Domino. This is not a museum of the past, this history is alive.

Steve with Amzie and Henry the Fiddler

As I drive around the city I never cease to be amazed at the extraordinary beauty of the streets which are gardens of mostly old live oak trees and all manner of flowering, semi-tropical plants. The houses are old. Apparently made with the goal being lasting quality, they characterize the city as a place which achieved a measure of class in the past, not to be fooled into embracing fleeting trends. Here, once again, we are connected to the past.    Every good musician plays often. How many times , as I was walking through my neighborhood, or that of a friend have I heard a single instrument’s melody floating in the air from I don’t know where! So, when I sit at my house and practice my music, I know I am just another participant in the New Orleans tradition. Especially during the cooler festival seasons I have often heard through open windows jam sessions from somewhere in the neighborhood. Joy, celebration of life visiting like a welcome friend.      In New Orleans, live music is as necessary as food. I have never run across any evidence of the existence of a DJ, even though I feel sure there are some lurking about in underground bastions of mediocrity. On a Saturday in January I counted around fifty live music acts listed by a local radio station. On Monday evening that number fell to around thirty. If that’s not enough, there are scores of often excellent musicians playing at all hours on the sidewalks and corners of the French Quarter. What’s important here is the fact that most of this vast offering of music is supported by the locals. Tourists tend to find only the music venues on Bourbon Street, which is a theme-park for misbehaving adults enjoying the luxury of being accountable to no one they know back home and the freedom of alcohol-induced amnesia.     I have spent the last three winters in New Orleans. Through some networking and “sitting in” I have been fortunate enough to play with some very capable players. Known by the nickname “Curly”, last winter I played electric fiddle with a great retro-country band called Gal Holiday and the Honky Tonk Revue. Just before I returned to Tidewater Virginia to play for the summer season, I had the special pleasure of playing the French Quarter and New Orleans Jazz Heritage Festivals with them. Both are large venues with that supercharged thrill of playing to thousands through giant sound systems. The pressure was on and I truly loved it. I look forward to returning to this place.