Progress and Preservation

Progress and Preservation...



Live Oaks in New Orleans City Park

In a city as old and historic as New Orleans, it is only natural that we value the timeworn traditions and elements over the new.  Many of us live in homes older than our great grandparents, and we cherish every wavy pane of glass and dip in the floor.  I once overheard a homeowner brag about the fact that their floor was an astonishing 18 inches out of level in their dining room alone!  From our oak trees to our locksmiths, the older the better and being the oldest has bragging rights all its own.

H. Rault locksmith, oldest locksmith in the South

We have organizations with incredible determination and vigilance, dedicated entirely to preservation in New Orleans.  The Vieux Carre Commission, probably the best known of these organizations, is charged with preserving the distinct character and architecture of the city's oldest neighborhood, the French Quarter. 

The Vieux Carre, New Orleans, LA ca.1985

The Preservation Resource Center, or PRC, is often referred to as the most efficient and best run

non- profit organization in the city, and with good reason.  The time and resources the PRC spends on education and saving homes and materials from the wrecking ball are beyond impressive.  From offering tax incentives in exchange for those willing to dedicate the facade of their home to the PRC to opening a salvage store, filled with materials from deconstructed dwellings, the PRC has managed to bring intelligent problem solving to otherwise deteriorating homes and neighborhoods.







Pairs of Corbels for sale at the PRC salvage store

located at 2801 Marais Street

Naturally, as a New Orleanian, I too have long been indoctrinated into this school of thought where age is prized and the new is suspect.  One of my favorite books New Orleans- Elegance and Decadence  by Richard Sexton and Randolph Delehanty captures this sentiment beautifully.  He describes the allure of the city's patina, its texture of peeling paint and carpet of moss covered brick courtyards.

In his introduction he quotes artist and New Orleanian Joel Lockhart Dyer.  "New Orleans is North America's Venice; both cities are on borrowed time.  Here we are fighting the mud, the heat, the rain, and the insects, trying- if you squint your eyes a bit- to create Paris in the swamps.  Our architecture, and the way we live are here because of a particular attitude, an attitude about time that is different from the rest of the United States.  New Orleans won't change- this is the source of its decline.... New Orleans doesn't want to be practical..."

But could all this nostalgia and tradition be creating its own undertow of sorts?  To say that we are creatures of habit is a huge understatement.  Julia Reed, resident author and authority on all things New Orleans probably expresses this notion best in her book The House on First Street.

She says, "In a city where much of the activity is based largely on what has been done before, an inertia you're not even aware of can settle into your bones.  People inherit houses, waiters, positions of royalty at Mardi Gras balls from the generations before them.  They eat fish (or shrimp po-boys) on Fridays and red beans and rice on Mondays and the men don seersucker and poplin the week after Easter (but never, ever before) for the duration of the Spring and Summer.  When a great many of life's decisions, big and small, are dictated by ritual or blood, free will, gumption, even the tiniest bit of initiative can go right out the window."

In this past Sunday's New York Times Style Magazine, part time resident and assistant professor of English at Tulane, Thomas Beller, wrote an article "In between days" about his experience spending time between New Orleans and New York.  In it, he said, "As soon as we settled into New Orleans, I came up with a theory that New Orleans was like the New York of the 1970s.  Ungentrified, shambolic, chaotic in ways bad and good, cheap, terrifying, a place hospitable to whimsy." 

Well, I don't know if his theory is correct.  Is New Orleans on the verge of booming, or has

Mr. Beller not been in town long enough to get it?  In either case, he is most certainly correct when he says, "In New Orleans, you are living in gorgeous ruins."

As someone who is just beginning to make a life and raise a family in New Orleans, my hope is that our city remains what it has always been, a living, breathing entity with unshakable roots but ever changing branches. 

"Dear New Orleans, home of my youth, cradle of many ancestors, tomb of many I have loved, I ask of God to protect, to preserve, and to bless thee.  From a Creole." 

 -Helene D'Aquin Allain

Souvenirs d'Amerique et de France par une Creole,1868







Music appreciation

Music appreciation...





My Dad, Ray Shall, playing B3 Hammond Organ

When I was in preschool, I remember my teacher discussing the numerous jobs that exist in the world.  Astronauts, ballet dancers, policemen, teachers, builders....  The list goes on and on.  It was always a funny thing when I was asked, "what does your dad do?"  It was a two part answer really, but to keep things simple I'd just reply, "He plays the piano."

The truth is I don't think my Dad ever did just one thing.  By day he spent years in insurance and finance, but by night, well that is another story.  You see, since he was a teenager my father has been a professional musician.  As young as 16, he used a "borrowed" draft card to get into bars in order to play gigs at night, all the while attending high school by day.  And thus this dichotomy was born.

 Dad age 17 playing organ in 1969

Of course, many people dabble in music, particularly in their youth.  Illusions of Rock n Roll fame (not to mention groupies) lure many to learn the guitar or belt out a tune.  But how many pursue their interests beyond the impending reality that to be a real musician takes real talent and real work?

To my father's credit, music is second nature to him.  He has an ear that can pick out subtleties and duplicate any song instantly on the piano.  (This, as my family would tell you, is highly ironic since the television must be turned up so loudly for him to hear it.)  He has played all manner of Rock n Roll, Jazz, and Rhythm and Blues.  He has played everywhere from Paris to Bourbon Street and with legends like Louis Prima, the Count Basie Orchestra, Al Hirt, Dr. John, Irma Thomas and more Neville's than I can count.  The stage and the band may change, but he just keeps on playing. 

This is me in the middle of my sisters, Ellen and Yvonne at Dad's piano

When we were little, he would play Alley Cat, and my three sisters and I would crawl like cats down the hallway off to bed.  Of course we were totally unaware of how spoiled we were by the live music that always filled our house when Dad was home.   We would stand on the piano bench, using candle sticks (see red candle sticks above) as our microphones and sing along. 

It was our own little cabaret and it was wonderful!

Growing up, I always enjoyed watching him play.  We never missed a chance to see him when he played an all ages venue.  Even when it wasn't, it was pretty cool ordering a coke with 10 cherries after ballet while my Dad rehearsed with the band before the bar opened.  I'll never forget when I was in college and had the opportunity to go see one of my Dad's favorite musicians, Jimmy Smith, play at the House of Blues. 

The promo poster and my ticket from the Jimmy Smith show

Jimmy Smith playing B3 Hammond Organ

This was a real treat since it turned out to be one of his last performances and he died shortly thereafter.  I was able to listen and watch the excitement my Dad felt at seeing a master at work.

Ray Charles

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLWoiC-3b60

Click to see Ray Charles performing "Busted" in 1982

 As children, we were blessed to have been exposed to such great music, not only played by my father, but shared by him as well.  We all grew up singing "Hit the Road Jack" and "Just a Gigolo."  Even now, I may be short on lullabies at bedtime, but I can do Motown or Etta James in a heartbeat.    My hope is that, in some way, I can share my love of music and the gift my Dad gave to me with my children. 



Why didn't I think of that?

Why didn't I think of that?

Every now and then you come across great ideas that make life just a little easier.  These are a few simple and inexpensive (if not FREE) problem solvers that I thought were worth sharing and left me thinking, why didn't I think of that?

The first stroke of genius are these Gear Ties



These super strong rubber covered twist ties come in lots of colors and 3", 6", 12", 18", 24" and 32" sizes.  They have a gripable rubber coating and a strong interior wire that holds whatever shape you desire.  I first spotted these at the hardware store and picked up a few as replacements when I lose twist ties that come with packages. 

Then I discovered how great they are for keeping track of cords.  But, as I've recently discovered, there are probably hundreds of uses for Gear Ties.

As wine glass markers

To keep your yoga rolled up

As a stand for your iPad or iPhone (the wire really is this sturdy)

And at just a few dollars for a pack of 4, how can you go wrong? 

The next million dollar idea offers a great storage solution with style. 







Every parent knows the scenario.  You cherish every last scribble your child creates until you are dangerously close to appearing on the next episode of hoarders.  The solution?  

These Lil' DaVinci Kids Frames.  These allow you to proudly display your little one's latest work of art and store up to 50 additional masterpieces inside the frame.

 

 

 

William's race car wheel art looks pretty cool

 

 

 

And there's still room for pine cone and snowflake art, too!

 

 

 

Last but not least, the last brilliant idea on the list is 100% FREE and easy

 

 

  While renovating our kitchen, I did what most do in search of packing supplies- Dumpster Diving! This is when a much wiser friend told me where I could find endless free boxes without the dirty work.  Just go to the post office!  It is so simple.  Just drive around the building to the loading docks, and help yourself to as many bulk mail bins as your car will hold.  Use them as long as you like, and when your done just bring them back.  If you live in the New Orleans area, I recommend the main post office downtown on Loyola Avenue. 

 

 

They are made of corrugated plastic so they are waterproof and won't fall apart.  They come in 2 easy to lift sizes, have lids (if you request them) and their built in handles making them much easier to carry than regular boxes.  Pretty good for the environment too, if you think about it.

 

I even kept one to store cleaning supplies below my kitchen sink

 

Well, I hope you've found some of these ideas as helpful as I have.  If necessity is the mother of invention, then this mother has found a few that make life just a little easier.

Je ne sais quoi

Je ne sais quoi...

What is that invisible yet permeable essence that we find so infectious in the French culture?  The markers of effortless style and a timeless chic leave this American girl longing for that je ne sais quoi.  Here are a few fun things for the Francophile in all of us.

www.cachette.com

The aptly named, Cachette, which translates as "hiding place," brings the best of small European market finds to your door step.  Imagine having a really stylish, well traveled friend with a great eye and connections to boot. 

 Everything from hand soaps

to decorative items for your home

 

they even have something in store for les enfants

And if somehow you don't fall in love with all the great loot, the story of how Anglo-French couple Stephen and Delphine gave up their lives in London to move to the South of France to start up this little operation will certainly appeal to your inner romantic.

Another fabulous French find are these beautiful books by Vicki Archer.  Not just pretty on the coffee table (although they are), she manages to convey that elusive spark that draws you in.

and

"I like to think that in France there is a sixth sense - a French sense... French sense is simple - it is chemistry, a magical mix of the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and textures... As a nation France has chemistry, as individuals the French have spark." -Vicki Archer, FRENCH ESSENCE

Which leads me to me next book collection with deep roots in France

I first discovered Assouline's book collections when I saw this box set, or as they call it the Lifestyle "survival kit," and mistook it for wall art.  Little did I know how wonderful the books inside would be.  I loved it so much I gave one to a friend as a house warming gift when she bought a place in the French Quarter.  How can you go wrong with Italian art, cocktails, Veuve Cliquot and chocolate ?

Now this has opened up an entirely new spending habit with a few of the following to blame

"We have always heeded the French expression savoir vivre, which translates roughly as knowing how to live. This means being guided by a clear value set that privilege our passions. It means we put our resources and our time into things that matter: knowledge, relationships, and experiences; into history, culture, and travel. It means we favor things that are rare and precious not for their price tag, but because they enrich our lives." - Pierre Assouline

 

There's no place like home

Be it ever so humble...

My porch

There's no place like home

Cliche perhaps, but never were truer words spoken.

In the McMansion age of Vegas, disco, glitter granite, it comes as a breath of fresh air when people forgo the starter castle flash in favor of the well worn elements that make a house a home.

Gorgeous old farm table

Salvaged molding shelf

During my time in Real Estate, I have had the pleasure of viewing some truly spectacular properties.  Some of them large and extravagant, even rivaling museums for their art, antiques and historical significance.

Philip Street


Third Street

St. Charles Avenue

Yet I've always found that the homes that have been loved and lived in resonate most with people.
Perhaps it is the New Orleanian in me that values the old over the new, but cookie cutter design fades, and age and charm cannot be faked. 

Italianate corbels on Chestnut Street

Garden District gate and wall at Chestnut and First Street

Garden District sidewalk (Coliseum Street)

What makes a house a home?  If a house is too stark or "done" it looses its human element.  Its the photographs, the "if these walls could talk" stories, the treasures collected over a lifetime that draws people in.

My Mother's baby shoes

Henry's room (and rabbit)

"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." - Maya Angelou
or
"Where we love is home- home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts." - Oliver Wendell Holmes

My Mother, Suzette (being held), with her parents, Delores and Buddy, and brother Jeffrey.