501 Napoleon Ave
New Orleans, LA 70115
Sunday, September 23, 2012
"Tipitina's began as a neighborhood juke joint, established in 1977, by a group of young music fans (The Fabulous Fo'teen) to provide a place for Professor Longhair to perform in his final years. The venue, named for one of Longhair's most enigmatic recordings "Tipitina," has survived in an ever-changing musical climate. In the past three decades, Tipitina's has grown from a small, neighborhood bar into an international music icon. The venue has expanded into a two-story music venue located at the famed corner of Napoleon and Tchoupitoulas.
All profits from the venue are donated to the Tipitina’s Foundation to support childhood music education, the professional development of adult musicians, and the increased profile and viability of Louisiana music as a cultural, educational, and economic resource." Tipitina web site
There’s only one place to consider if you want to dance to some down home Cajun music in New Orleans – Tipitina’s on Sunday night with Bruce Daigrepont. “Tips” is where I heard my first Fais Do Do show in 2008. Over the stage is a huge image of legendary musician Professor Longhair (1918-1980), a man so central to the city’s music that this place is named after one of his famous anthems. With its well-worn black and white tile dance floor festooned with colorful banners, it probably hasn’t changed much since it was opened in 1977. It’s a perfect definition of a dance hall.
Bruce Daigrepont knows hundreds of Cajun songs. For every two or three Cajun two-step there’s a waltz, just like they did it in in living rooms the old days west of here in what’s called Cajun country. A few generations ago French was the predominant language there - all Bruce's repertoire is sung in French. He’s been pulling on his accordion here for about 20 years, fiddle player Gina Forsyth for 17 of them, along with a regular bass player and drummer. Forsyth's robust solo exchanges with Daigrepont add a charge to any song. Many of the regulars here know the words of his French songs by heart. If a guy is lucky, his partner will whisper sing the words to a pretty waltz in his ear.
About fifty kids from Tulane, most of whom have never heard of Cajun music, are here tonight. It could be because they heard that a Tulane professor plays bass in the band and want to see if the silver haired guy can rock out– Professor John Markaway does.
Bruce, knowing that this is the first time these kids have been to a Cajun dance hall, becomes a professor himself, giving little instructional introductions for each song.
“We call these dances Fais Do Do dances. Early on, before dance halls began to spring up in the early 1900s, this music was played at house parties on Saturday nights. Whole families, kids and all, could be ten or twelve of them, would come to the party. The mothers, especially the young mothers, wanted to dance. After a while, they’d tell the kids to find a corner and go to sleep. Dormir is the French word that means “to sleep”. The slang for that was 'fais do do,' that literally means make sleep. At the end of the night, the parents would gather their kids and go home.”
Sunday night at Tipitina’s has the feel of one of those old house parties.
Before the next song Daigrepont says something about his accordion. “This accordion is hand made. Accordions are like humans, no two are alike. Their DNA is different and they might sound different. The reeds for this accordion (he opens a fitting so we can see inside) were made in Italy.” The instrument is beautiful. I wish I had a photo of it.
Another song, another introduction:
‘This music, although it’s sung in French, did not come over on the boats from France. It was made up by the people in southwest Louisiana who came here from Canada.”
Bruce has been lovingly singing these French songs his whole life. He’s a living jukebox of history. Like hundreds of proud Louisiana musicians who grew up listening to fais do do songs, he feels called to keep the tradition going.
His high-pitched voice, a hallmark of Cajun vocal style, is perfectly suited to evoke the hard life, subsistence level yet sustainable, in the bayous. Each song has a backstory and Bruce knows them all: heartbreaking songs about the lovelorn, a few funny ones about the hapless, and the occasional rascal who made life interesting and entertaining. Cajuns wrote about the life they knew. Bruce makes sure we don’t forget it.
Cajun music doesn’t have the following as the zydeco community these days but those who follow it are devoted to it. A sizeable bunch shows up each Sunday and Bruce calls them out by name from the stage.
I’ve danced with some of the same women since the first time my friend Rebecca brought me here on ny first visit to Louisiana in 2008 - my life hasn't been the same since.
“Where you from,” a woman asks me as we leave the dance floor. “Boston,” I reply. “My, my, you dance like a local, I wouldn’t ever have guessed.”
Made my night.
Partial set list
“Allons Dancer Colinda” (Bruce tells the backstory: matrons would always be present and make sure young men didn’t get too familiar with young women. This song is about one sneaky fellow who somehow managed evade their hawkish attention and to get a romantic dance in with a girl while the older women were patrolling the dance floor.)
“Waltz Francais”
“Ossun Two Step”
"Bienvenue a Sud Louisiane"
“Zydeco Two Step”
“Roulez Toute La Nuit” with a swing tempo
One or two ballads with a bluesy feel to them
“Les Accordions de la Pays Acadienne”
Parents still bring their kids to a A Fais Do Do
Gina Forsyth and pt; Tipitinas!
Photos by Paul A. Tamburello, Jr.
Love this place! The only improvement for me would be a wooden dance floor. ML
Posted by: May Louise White | October 17, 2012 at 04:03 PM
wow, i was having such a good time i didnt even notice the tiles!
Posted by: Paul A. Tamburello, Jr aka pt at large | October 17, 2012 at 10:00 PM