French Quarter Festival

The word of the week was “moments.” My assignment was to capture the moments that tell the story of the French Quarter Festival. There were quiet moments and loud moments, simple ones and outrageous ones.

From the tiny stage at the world famous Preservation Hall to the huge crowds surrounding the riverfront stages – and among all the street musicians in between – the moments were defined by the music. It was the music that brought us all together.

I met a young man from Germany who learned to play the trombone, then convinced his parents he needed to come to New Orleans to hear real jazz. He played in Jackson Square with a tuba player whose instrument boasts a bumper sticker that reads, “New Orleans: Proud to call it home.” I sat next to a woman from New Orleans at one 

performance who had specifically come out to hear a 

band from Belgium.

 Whether it was “real” jazz, or any of the other genres spread throughout the festival, the music seemed to seep from the bricks and mortar and weathered wood of the French Quarter and into the pores of thousands of fans.Watching those fans brought me some of my most memorable moments of the festival. I was lucky enough to have a camera along to capture them. Whether or not the pictures do those moments justice was the subject of much conversation during the festival, as I was shooting an assignment for a photography workshop. (Tough assignment, I know.) I don't know if I did them justice, but I had a great time trying.