|
July-August
2007
SOMEBODY
SCREAM!!!
PASSING A GOOD TIME AT
THE LONG BEACH BAYOU
FESTIVAL 2007
June 22-24, 2007
By Joel Okida
Guyland Ledet
It's a
bit of a challenge when you try to recreate a Louisiana
bayou in a sprawling southern California
park. Located across the street from a
harbor which embraces the Queen Mary and the Pacific Ocean
on one side and a major hotel and convention center on the other, it's a
stretch to imagine the rustic swamplands of the south. You won't see a ‘gator launching itself out
of the water nor will you be digging crawfish out of a muddy marsh. The man-made Rainbow Lagoon isn't Lake Ponchartrain
or even Lake Charles and nothing resembling the
mighty Mississippi River snakes through the
groomed green turf of the park. However,
for one weekend in June, the sounds emanating from the 21st Annual
Long Beach Bayou Festival's Center (Bayou) stage can transport you and your
imagination to Louisiana,
home to two very unique forms of dance music: one called zydeco and the other,
similar, but distinctly different, called Cajun. Rounding out the musical spectrum, a short
walk over to the smaller Club N'Orleans Stage might find you listening to a
musical genre born in the Crescent
City: jazz; this followed by another
form of song which meandered thru New Orleans and along the delta: the
blues. Add to the music an offering of
cultural workshops, dance lessons and a wide variety of consumer booths and you
will get as close to the mud bug state without hopping on a plane or
train. If you‘re off your diet, you can
sample gumbo, crawfish etouffée, hush puppies, red beans and rice, and a
variety of other ethnic foods.
This
year gave the attendees some southern California
beautiful weather, much better than the typical stifling Louisiana bayou heat and humidity of summer,
and there was no fear of losing your toot-toot to a gator chomp. California's
longest running Cajun and Zydeco festival benefits Comprehensive Child
Development (CCD), a local non-profit organization helping out needy families
and children. The Long Beach Bayou
Festival is an all ages event with a kids play zone and crafts area, and
an arts and crafts marketplace for everyone else. It's all put on by a dedicated group of
volunteers who keep things moving and keep things clean.
It
also provides dancing on a large covered dance floor. Here you'll find a crowd of people from all
over the country, sliding, slipping, shuffling, and two-stepping. No, these aren't cool teenagers slumming on
the dance floor, but red-hot middle-aged hoofers who have discovered a fountain
of youth or at least a reason to postpone the aging process. A week of Advil and massage therapy,
post-festival, seems a small price to pay for a weekend of perspiration,
gyration, and inspiration. You might add
integration to the experience, too. One
of the side benefits of Cajun and zydeco dancing is that it has no age, race,
or size restrictions. Of course, real
life is supposed to be like that, too, but here you're out there to have fun
and only you can judge or put parameters on yourself. Evidently, rural Creoles and Cajuns knew long
ago how to leave the work day behind and enjoy an evening or weekend of music
and dance. The LB Bayou Festival underlines
that philosophy.
Like
most festivals of this type, the music is combined with all things Louisiana into one potpourri or "gumbo" pot so there is
often a common belief that cajun/zydeco music along with Dixieland jazz is
synonymous with New Orleans, Baton
Rouge, Shreveport and every other
major city in Louisiana. While jazz might be the music of New Orleans, in reality, cajun/zydeco is more the
indigenous sound of rural southwest Louisiana
and over the border into Texas. You will find Lafayette
to be the closest Louisiana
city to the clubs and festivals which cater to the dance music on a regular
basis. Within that regional boundary,
there is another line drawn between the music of the Creoles and that of the
Cajuns. Historically, the line, often
blurred, sometimes for the better and sometimes for worse, follows the segregation
of the south. You can trace the parallel
evolution of the music and the early struggle where sometimes, musicians,
regardless of race, would play together or learn from one another. At
other times, the split, both racially and musically, was wider and a distinct
direction was defined, hence, the uniqueness of each style. Acceptance
for each probably didn't occur until racial barriers, in general, had eased.
Where
zydeco is heavily beat-oriented and driven by the accordion and rub board
(frottoir) with an electric bass and drum backbeat, Cajun music can be
identified oftentimes by the addition of the fiddle, the absence of the
rubboard, and the insertion of a waltz for every other number. Where zydeco borrows heavily from rhythm and
blues, soul, and a dash of funk, Cajun takes a dash of country swing and can
pick up the speed of a fast polka. Both
rely heavily on folk music themes or simple tales of daily life. It's dance music after all. In the modern era, the contemporary Cajun
band may play a zydeco tune and vice versa.
Although some bands stay true
to traditions of the past, the distinctions can often blur as world music and
competition promote flexibility and a need for creative approaches to old
standards.
Away from the rural areas and bayous, you can hear jazz still
evolving in its birthplace of New
Orleans. The
Long Beach Bayou Festival gives you snippets of jazz along with another closely
associated Louisiana
event, Mardi Gras. The LALA
Secondline and the N'Orleans Traditional Jazz Parade Band contributed energetic
accompaniment for a Mardi Gras march through the festival grounds each
day. Providing the jazz groove for the
weekend were the Ernie Andrews Jazz
Band and the Al Williams Jazz
Society.
Although the blues has many "birthplaces", local bands covered all
the angles, with riffs from Chicago, the Delta,
and Texas. L.A.'s
own Café R&B, Mississippi-born,
Texas-raised Zac Harmon and his
Blues Band, and the Gregg Wright Blues Band, got the crowd's attention. Likewise, the Oscar Jordan Band, the Oozie
Blues Show, Texas-born Bobby Griffen and San
Diego's Candye Kane all gave crowd-pleasing
performances while swing dancers took spins around the adjacent dance floor.
Highlights
on the Cajun & zydeco Bayou Stage were plentiful and dancers, novice and
old-timer, could grab a few new moves in between band sets with a lesson. Exemplifying the zydeco world's love of
royalty and titles, the "Crown Prince of Zydeco," C.J. Chenier, son of
the late great King of Zydeco, Clifton Chenier, played a high energy set
accompanied by The Red Hot Louisiana Band.
Kevin Naquin & the Ossun Playboys, (a 14 time CFMA award winner), played both Friday and Saturday
nights keeping the dancers on their feet with energized cajun jitterbugs ,
bouncy two-steps, and some beautiful waltzes.
From Eunice, LA,
a zydeco dancer and west coast favorite, Geno Delafose, also the son of a great
zydeco musician, John Delafose, always gives the dancers the rolling accordion
driven beat that keeps them happy. This
time was no different as he offered up some traditional zydeco but wasn't
afraid to throw in a spiced up oldie or a Sam Cooke special served up
Geno-style.
The
highlight of the show and perhaps giving notice to the older, experienced
accordionists, Same Ol' Two-Step was anything but that as featured performer,
little Guyland Ledet, the nine-year old accordion Whiz Kid, aggressively showed
his talent and displayed a preternatural bit of showmanship on every song. If zydeco music and dancing made you feel
young, watching Guyland play and bend that tiny body could suddenly make you
feel old!
One of the driving forces behind the
festival was lost a couple of years ago.
Some of the people that make up the zydeco cocktail of dancers were
stirred but most were shaken when Murphy Matthews passed on in 2005. His love for the music and his dedication to
CCD were huge factors in keeping the local dances and the festival going, only
overshadowed perhaps by his love for the dance.
Years ago, I would watch Murphy and wonder if I could ever attain the
ability and style to dance anywhere near that inimitable choreography that he
brought to the scene. Moreover, while I
grimaced and bit my lip with each step, I really wondered if I would ever enjoy
myself as much as Murphy; he of the spirited and almost sprite-like
movements. I thought to myself, "That's
satisfaction, personified." Well, I
never did get his step and moves but his presence kept me focused on getting
that beat down and through persistence and inspiration from him and a few
others, I overcame my fears. He was an
integral part of that transformation and I won't forget it. Perhaps a good portion of his legacy is
handed down to the festival to help carry on the tradition and the life that
zydeco dancers have known, embraced and reveled in. Connie Arizmendi,
CCD Bayou Festival Coordinator and the rest of the board honored Murphy by
naming the VIP Tent "Murphy's Place".
However, sometimes when I look across that dance floor, out of the
corner of my eye, I often think I see a figure, a bobbing cowboy hat, a
flashing grin, could it be? Maybe next
year, Murphy's Place will be read on all four sides of the dance canopy. That's where I remember Murphy.
The recent passing of Bois Sec Ardoin, legendary Creole fiddler, might have closed
another chapter in the origins of zydeco.
The passing of Murphy Matthews ended another chapter in our own local
history. But the future of zydeco burns
a little brighter because of those two, and the torch seems to be in the small
but mighty accordion-playing hands of Guyland Ledet. The Long
Beach Bayou Festival continues on because of the
figures of the past and because we have seen the future. Oh yeah, those volunteers have a lot to do
with it, too.
As
they say in Louisiana:
next year, come on by and pass a good time.
Joel Okida is a struggling artist, struggling writer, and
struggling musician. It occurs to him that life is all about the struggle.
Fortunately, he did not take up acting. However, he's not half-bad as a zydeco
dancer and the ability to make a mean gumbo and lovely walnut tortes has gotten
him by.
|