“Willie Birch: Gumbo, Ya/Ya, and Hey Pocky Way: Willie Birch’s New Orleans and African Americans Making It What It Is”

WILLIE BIRCH

Gumbo, Ya/Ya, and Hey Pocky Way: Willie Birch’s New Orleans and African Americans Making It What It Is

By William Fagaly

“As an artist, I do not live in a vacuum.I am constantly absorbing the life of my community, recording it in my public and personal works.”

Willie Birch

Willie Birch was born and raised in America’s most stimulating and unique city-New Orleans. A wonderful part of what makes it special is the extraordinary blend of cultures-Creole and Cajun, Catholic and Jewish, Caribbean and Latino, Italian and, more recently, Vietnamese. While the influence of the French and Spanish (who each took turns governing the territory during its first hundred years) remains strong, African Americans have had an indelible impact on the lifestyle and fabric of the community of over two centuries. New Orleans writer and playwright Dalt Wonk has aptly observed, “We are looking in the wrong direction when we attempt to explain the New Orleans mystique by way of Europe. The main ingredient in the New Orleans cultural gumbo comes from Africa-by way of the Caribbean.” Today the city is more than sixty percent black and many of its most renowned and cherished assets find their basis in its African American heritage.

During the 18th and 19th centuries, thousands of slaves were brought from West Africa to New Orleans where they were sold in Congo Square, a small clearing surrounded by swamps and marshes behind the original colonial settlement, the Vieux Carre or French Quarter. On Sundays they congregated there for day-long performances of dancing accompanied by vocal chantings, drumming and other percussion rhythms, recalling their tribal backgrounds in the Caribbean and across the Atlantic. According to producer and music historian Cosimo Matassa, the flourishing of music in the city stems in part from the large percentage of the population who actively danced and participated in the performances rather than merely listened. He observes that instrumentation in the city’s music changed appreciably following the importation of large Mexican military brass bands performing at the 1884 Cotton Exposition in New Orleans. The 19th century saw in New Orleans the emergence of Creoles of color as noted musicians and composers, the most prominent being Richard Lambert and his two sons, Lucien and Sidney, who performed, respectively, in Brazil and Portugal. Likewise, another 19th century New Orleans-born musician, Louis Moreau Gottschalk, went to Europe and South America to gain his fame and fortune as a Eurocentric composer and concert pianist.

Jazz, as an American musical idiom, began in the elaborate brothel halls on Basin Street in Storyville in the early decades of this century created by such musicians as cornet players Buddy Bolden and Louis Armstrong, pianist Jelly Roll Morton and soprano saxophonist Sidney Bechet who played there. Many of the traditional jazz performers popular in the 1930s and 1940s have appeared periodically on the nightly bill at Preservation Hall in the French Quarter from the 1960s to the present, a veritable Who’s Who of living New Orleans legends of music.

In the late 1940s and in the 1950s and 1960s rhythm and blues music (R & B) rose to prominence in the New Orleans sounds of the venerable pianist/vocalist Henry Roeland Byrd, known as Professor Longhair or just Fess, followed by his disciples James Booker, Allen Toussaint, and Caucasian Dr. John. Preceding Fess in R & B and developing later in the 1960s in the new Rock and Roll was Fats Domino along with other New Orleanians Ernie K-Doe, Oliver “Who Shot The La La” Morgan, and the Dixie Cups. At this time the big bands of Dooky Chase and Dave Bartholomew succumbed to economic pressures and evolved into smaller, more manageable groups. Black music clubs fostering African American musicians included the Rhythm Club, Foster’s, Dew Drop Inn, and Club Rocket.

Growing out of the music genesis from Congo Square are two other African American phenomenons unique to New Orleans-jazz funerals and Mardi Gras Indians. Traditionally, old black musicians (and on rare occasions other personalities) are given the distinct honor of a jazz funeral. The form of the ritual is standard. After the casket is brought out of the church, bands such as the Eureka Jazz Band or DeJean’s Olympia Brass Band play dirges as the procession followed by the mourners moves slowly along the street. When the Grand Marshall halts the parade, the hearse speeds off to the cemetery leaving behind the Second Liners waving white handkerchiefs as their final goodbye. At this moment the mood and music change abruptly. Upbeat, loud songs are accompanied by joyous, frenetic dancing with handkerchiefs and, waving overhead, opened umbrellas decorated with sequins, ribbons and white dove finials, strongly reminiscent of Akan royal umbrellas in Ghana. Following behind the musicians the mourners become celebrants honoring and sending off their deceased loved one in proper fashion. The party has begun.

Willie Birch loved to Second Line at the jazz funerals so he could listen to the music. Once, as a child, Birch and a friend got caught up in the music of the parade and walked blocks outside of their neighborhood before realizing they were lost. This passionate love of music was not limited to those developed in New Orleans; Birch and his sister played the albums of Ella, Sarah, Dakota, the Duke, the Count, Miles, Aretha, Ike and Tina, Little Willie John, as well as Billy Ekstine, James Brown and Sam Cooke.

The origins of the Mardi Gras Indian tradition date back to the late 19th century when blacks formed “gangs” or “tribes” which are a rough equivalent to the white uptown social “krewes” of carnival. However, the basis for this African American custom is unclear. Most probably stemming form the masking traditions of West Africa and a similar occurrence of costuming as Indians in the West Indies, New Orleans blacks were in sympathy with and shared a common bond with the repression of the neighboring Native Americans who assisted runaway slaves. During the last century it was illegal for blacks to perform in the streets during the week, and it is taught by some that costuming as Indians circumvented this city ordinance. Today, with great pride and spirit of competition, black men sew feverishly throughout the year to create fancy, complexly designed suits made of dyed feathers and detailed sewn panels of sequins and glass beads depicting Indian braves and warriors on horseback. Playing tambourines, they parade together as a gang, often with their costumed young sons and daughters, through the neighborhood side streets or “back-o-town” on three specific days in the Spring (Mardi Gras, St. Joseph’s Day and the annual all-gang convergence Super Sunday) to honor and praise Indians. Allison “Tootie” Montana is the recognized dean of the Big Chiefs as he has led the Yellow Pocahontas Hunters, like his father before him, for over forty years. The late George Landry, known as big Chief Jolley of the Wild Tchoupitoulas in the uptown Thirteenth Ward, led his nephews Art, Charles, Aaron, and Cyril in an R & B music group by the same name and from this gang the famed Neville Brother band was launched. “Hey Pocky Way” and Iko Iko,” sung respectively by the Nevilles and the Dixie Cups, are two traditional Mardi Gras Indian songs which became popular standards with the general public.

As a young child in the Magnolia project, Birch knew older young men his sister’s age who masqueraded as Indians for Mardi Gras and grew up hearing stories of mothers, sisters, and lovers who hid their costume jewelry so it would not be used in decorating the Indian costumes. Birch enjoyed standing on the neutral ground on Carnival morning as the sun rose waiting for the Indians to emerge from the side streets in their brilliant different colored costumes. As a teenager, Willie enjoyed following the Indians in the parade, but later stopped this practice due to the threat of violent confrontations between some Indian tribes.

Even though this wealth of musical talent continues in the City, there is a distinct fear that without support and encouragement, this rich history will be lost and will not be able to continue as musicians are forced to leave the city to make a living. Ellis Marsalis and former Congresswoman Corinne “Lindy” Boggs are presently co-chairing an in-depth fact-finding commission to identify various spaces, including houses, clubs, neighborhoods, and current jazz education in a report which will be presented to Congress through the Department of the Interior to ultimately establish a unit of the National Parks System for the preservation of New Orleans jazz.

While it is possible to plot through time the development of African American heritage in New Orleans music, a comparable analysis of the city’s cuisine is not as straightforward or simple. Just as a recipe is the blending together of various ingredients to create a product unlike any of its parts, much of New Orleans cooking derives its character and panache from this amalgamation of cuisines from cultures having an impact on the city- Native American, French, Spanish, Caribbean and, not the least of which, West African. Slaves brought with them black-peas, okra, sesame, yams, cumin, rice and peanuts from Africa. In fact, two of New Orleans’ signature dishes have direct African origins. Gumbo or gombo is the word for okra in the West African languages of Wolof, Mandingo and Bambara, while the Wolof peoples of Senegal cook a popular jollof rice-a paella-type meat and/or chicken dish similar to New Orleans jambalaya. In fact, the African deprivation of the word jambalaya is “ham and rice”. During the antebellum period, black women populated the kitchens of city mansions and nearby plantations and used techniques such as deep-frying and stewing adapted from their native African cuisine. Today African American restaurants are among the most popular in the city and boast famous chefs.

As mentioned, slaves brought from Africa in the last century were forbidden to perform any of their religious practices including music and dancing. Even so, voodoo or vodun, which has its origins among the Fon peoples of the Republic of Benin (formerly Dahomey) in West Africa and from the Caribbean island of Haiti, has a long history in New Orleans up to the present day. Likewise, manifestations of the Yoruba gods and cults such as Shango and other vestiges of this Nigerian people’s animistic beliefs have been blended with Christian saints and can be found today, along with medicinal preparation and cures, at the F & F Botanica on North Broad Street represented as plaster statues and candles of the Seven African Powers of the Santeria religion.

One consequence of this prohibition against African customs being practiced partially explains the absence of any strong tradition of visual imagery such as carving wood sculptures. However, in his excellent 1972 study, “Negro Ironworkers of Louisiana,” 1718-1900 black historian and poet Marcus Christian traces the origins of early New Orleans hand-crafted wrought ironwork which graces the Vieux Carre balcony railings, fences and gates. After careful research he concludes it was made locally by slaves who brought the technology with them from West Africa where they had developed ironworking skills for themselves before enslavement. While the form is based on African techniques and tools, the function is Eurocentric. Other early American crafts which owe a heavy debt to African-American skills include quilt-, furniture- and brick-making.

Examples of other 19th century black artists and artisans are few and, when known, totally Eurocentric in concept and style. During the antebellum period several gens de couleur libres or free persons of color were able to make a living as painters, lithographers and daguerreotypists. In fact, he is generally credited with introducting the early photographic technique, the daguerreotype, to the city one year after its invention in Paris in 1840. Scarce records and few surviving works reveal the work of portrait painter Julien Hudson while almost nothing exists except the name of artist Alexander Pickhil. New Orleanian Eugene Warburg eventually went to Europe in mid-century where he was successful as a marble sculptor. His brother Daniel and later his namesake son established themselves in the city as marble cutters.

Most of the work created by African American artist living today in New Orleans is associated in some way with the African diaspora: their art reflects these creators’ attitudes and sensibilities toward their heritage. These painters and sculptors include Charlie Johnson, Jack Jordan, Louise Mouton, Martin Payton, John Scott, Richard Thomas and Clifton Webb. Related are the autobiographical memory constructions of Jeffrey Cook. Husband and wife photographers Keith Calhoun and Chandra McCormick have dedicated their careers to documenting the vanishing traditions and lifestyles of black laborers in the cotton and cane fields and on the docks of the Port of New Orleans. Only Cheryl Hayes works in a purely abstract mode devoid of social references and images.

New Orleans can boast of a host of self-taught or folk artists who have gained recognition for their highly individualized styles and forms. Four of them-Sister Gertrude Morgan, John Landry, Hugh “Daddy Boy” Williams and Martin Green-have died within the last decade. Perhaps the most important was Sister Morgan, the self-proclaimed bride of Jesus and street preacher who dressed in white and used her colorful paintings and musical performances to carry out her mission of spreading the gospel, particularly the warnings found in the Book of Revelations. Inspired by Mardi Gras, John Landry meticulously planned out on graph paper the complicated designs for small replicas of traditional parade floats and then created them by restringing the multicolored plastic and glass beads thrown to onlookers in the streets by costumed float riders. Hugh Williams carved walking sticks fashioned from oak branches and decorated with rhinestones and images of snakes, alligators, eagles, Indian beads, and lewd men and women. Martin Green used standard-size poster boards and colored felt tip pens from the neighborhood K & B drugstore to depict and interpret voodoo, the planets and phenomenons from space.

Utilizing similar materials as Green, Willie White makes abstracted compositions of churches, eagles, alligators, tomato plants and dinosaurs. James Scott, living on the outskirts of New Orleans in the bayou fishing village of Lafitte, builds from wood scraps and paints intricately detailed models of shrimp and oysters boats. Herbert Singleton makes painted wooden relief sculptures dealing with the tough side of life such as the problems of drugs and crime in American cities. Bruce Brice, in his late 40s, was the youngest of the African American self-taught artists working in New Orleans until he moved last year. His acrylic paintings depict and document many of the traditions of blacks in New Orleans.

Two other African-American organizations of note have formed recently. Arriving a few years ago from Savannah, Sandra Berry and her husband Joshua Walker have established an art gallery, The Neighborhood Gallery, on Soniat Street where the talents of local artists are featured and community-oriented educational programming is offered. In it’s brief life-span another group, Ya/Ya (Young Aspirations/Young Artists), have been a phenomenally successful venture gaining attention nationally and internationally. It’s published mission statement describes it’s purpose as “a private non-profit arts and social service organization that provides educational experiences and opportunities that empower artistically talented inner-city youths to be professionally self-sufficient through creative self-expression.”

This is Willie Birch’s birthplace. He was born on Tchoupitoulas Street and grew up in the Magnolia Project at 2889 La Salle across the street from the famous Dew Drop Inn music club. Too young to go in, he and his friends listened from the house next door to the “greats” who came to town to perform there-B.B. King, Earl King, Sam Cook, Bobby Blue Bland, Huey Smith and the Clowns, Big Maybelle, Big Momma Thornton. However, many of these performers were not seen as celebrities but as everyday people who lived and functioned in the community. Huey Smith lived in the project across the driveway from Birch’s home. Young Allen Toussasint, considered by many in the neighborhood as the boy genius who writes songs, was often seen by Birch and his friends driving his Cadillac convertible around. Ernie K-Doe played basketball in Shakespeare Park on LaSalle and Washington. Because of his young age, Birch did not understand the fuss being made over his neighbor Fats Domino, until he saw him on a television broadcast from New York singing his hit “Blueberry Hill.” Willie Birch saw Satchmo (Louis Armstrong), who was Zulu’s Big Shot that year, when he stopped at the Dew Drop during the parade on Mardi Gras Day. According to Birch, most black adults he knew felt Armstrong should have declined to march as King of Zulu because they believed his presence served to legitimize the racist perceptions of American blacks and of African culture as well. Marking his first recollection of Africa as a topic of discussion, this controversy left a lasting impression on Birch and his negative attitude about Armstrong did not change until he was an adult.

Several school experiences set a foundation for Birch’s interest in art. He recalls being “confused” by the Greek sculptures during a sixth grade field trip to the art museum in City Park. But perhaps the most important influence for Birch occurred when, as an eighth grader, he began art classes and joined an art club for young black males both run by C. Maxine Holtry Daniels at the YMCA on Dryades Street. Over the years Daniels provided valuable instruction for Birch and other young men, many of whom later went on to make significant contributions (notably, Andrew Young, the former Ambassador to the United Nations and Mayor of Atlanta.) This experience not only provided Birch with his first formal artistic training, but also revealed a promising young artist.

An additional influence on Birch was the singer Aaron Neville, a fellow classmate at Walter C. Cohen High School, who indirectly encouraged him to pursue his dreams more by his actions than by what he said. Birch felt Neville, who wore an earring and tattoo on his cheek, was a star, a rebel, and light years ahead of everyone in high school. This period marked the beginning of Birch’s expansion outside of the black community represented by his visits to art galleries and street artists who displayed their works on the cast iron fence in Jackson Square in the French Quarter. One year later at Booker T. Washington High School, Birch’s social studies teacher, Mr. Higgenbotham, taught African and African American history, a subject not taught in the public schools at that time. That experience left Birch with a strong interest in history, particularly African History. Later, as a college student, Birch chose history as his minor area of concentration.

Birch also became involved in the Civil Rights Movement during his teenage years in the 1950s through his cousin, the assistant director of the Urban League. Birch listened to his cousin speak of the horrors of segregation and racism. Birch himself recalls riding on the segregated city buses that had wood screens forbidding black people from sitting where they chose. Even after the buses had been integrated, Birch was physically thrown off the bus by the driver after he attempted to sit in the front. This incident left an indelible impression on Birch as it demonstrated that although the physical barrier could be removed, integration could not prevent racial hatred.

Birch wanted to participate in demonstrations but, feeling he was too young, his mother would not give her consent. As an alternative, Birch participated in the only way he could by making picket signs for the demonstrations. Birch recalls making signs in protest of the A&P grocery chain’s refusal to hire blacks as cashiers. The act of making protest signs was Birch’s way of contributing to a cause he deeply believed in.

Although the public facilities of the main library were segregated, as a child Birch spent many hours studying the works of artists, particularly Maurice Utrillo, Bernard Buffet, and Van Gogh. Later, in the early 1960s, Birch, now a college student and part of the organization Congress for Racial Equality, protested the segregated policies in that same library, eventually forcing it to change it’s policies.

The assassination of Martin Luther King in 1968 inspired Birch to create a work “Two Faces of a Nation,” his first socially conscious piece. This marked Birch’s mode of addressing social and protest issues within a body of art.

At Southern University in New Orleans, Birch studied under the tutelage of Arthur Britt and Jack Jordan. Professor Britt encouraged him to create his own experiences and study the art of Africa from ancient Egypt to the present. Professor Jordan’s influence came from the artworks he was himself making-African inspired welded figures derived from traditional tribal sculptures of a sub-Saharan Africa; the same type of pieces that had such a powerful effect on the early twentieth century artists of Europe.

Birch left New Orleans twice-once in 1962 after his having gone to jail for participating in the sit-in demonstrations at F.W. Woolworth and W.T. Grant stores on Canal Street. His mother, fearing for his safety, gave him an ultimatum: quit the Civil Rights Movement or get out of the house. Birch elected to join the Air Force and was sent to Europe for three years, spending his entire military career stationed in Holland where he regularly visited the art museums in Amsterdam. Upon returning to the United States, Birch decided to make a serious commitment to becoming an artist but found, once again in 1969, he had to leave New Orleans to pursue that goal. After a six-year stay in the Washington-Baltimore area, Birch moved to New York, returning regularly to New Orleans for family visits.

Even though Willie Birch has not lived in New Orleans for many years, the City’s legacy continues to provide a stimulus and to nurture both him and his art.

Note: At present, Willie Birch resides mainly in New Orleans, but maintains a home in New York as well.