NOTES
An Old Church Along Plantation Alley
Why I had to make art from this old church on Plantation Alley.
Not far outside of New Orleans is a meandering road that follows alongside the levee dividing the Mississippi River and the vulnerable land often referred as Plantation Alley. This place feels eerie to me. Is it the cypress trees? Is it the air that doesn’t seem to move with a breeze? Or is it the ghostly relics of the past? These plantations, these places of opulence and tragedy, murder and hosts for agonizing souls sent down the river as chattel, raped and made beasts of burden from black human bodies bewitch me. And it’s quiet here and there is a lot of time; nothing but time to reflect the haunting of a suffering past from which the belly of American cruelty continues to reverberate between the ancient trees of oak and cypress.
It is along this road where I drove past an old church. This place of worship has hosted its sinners, the descendants of an antebellum billion dollar industry that relied on the whipped backs of black people. The suffering is all I could think and I wanted to leave yet compulsion ruled me. A man watched from his tractor lawn mower as I parked my car along the road to photograph what drew me to this small white church enclosed by tiny white flowers.
The resulting image took less time than most of my work. I had felt something here that I didn’t like, which quickly guided me through the process of expressing emotions that escape words. I know nothing else of this church but the context of its location provided me the way through.
I have yet so many projects to pursue but I’m held fast to my temptations to return to this unscheduled series to see what more stories emerge. It’s a witchy 100+ miles of land of ruin, poverty and history that festers like a boil but is pretty too with its trees, and old structures and ruins. I used to enjoy staying and visiting these plantations but a lot that was unknown to me just a few years ago has stained my memories. I’ll eventually return to finish what I’ve begun.
It is my hope that you enjoy this finished piece and have a feeling akin to the one I had. It is printed on metallic paper and is available at 20% off if you sign up for my mailing list.
The Old Church Along Plantation Alley
2022
The most preserved plantations in the U.S. is just outside of New Orleans. A drive heading west, upriver on River Road are examples of antebellum mansions where slave masters resided, hosted guests and made their fortunes from the forced labor of imprisoned human beings. There are legends associated with these properties that also beg inevitable question: “Is this place haunted?”. In a way, yes. I’m unsure of the age of this chapel but it lies between a pair of plantations. I’m not a fan of this area yet I’m still drawn to it. It could be a desire to explore the roots of evil in America or more simply the eeriness of this region. Despite the dark history of the South, I can’t imagine working anywhere else (the exception being the arid regions of the western United States). In the South, you can find the ugliest and most beautiful aspects of humanity, which represent to me a nation in constant struggle and flux. This old chapel is a place for people to worship God and to make peace with their sins.
This unframed print is signed and reproduced on a heavy weighted 300GSM glossy luster photography paper.
The Oak Alley Plantation Road Trip
Just one of many must-see locations outside of New Orleans. Get a car or read this post.
Aryn and I gathered some friends and went on a road trip to Oak Alley Plantation, about an hour outside of New Orleans. The site was beautiful, with old, looming oak trees and the Mississippi River just on the other side of the street. I love going to these sites but it always feels like I'm stepping onto the scene of an old and terrible crime. There are old reminders everywhere, from the slaves' quarters to the big white house.
We parked ourselves on the other side of a field, sat for a picnic. After eating my lunch, I laid on the roots of a large tree, staring up into its branches, watching the swaying motion of leaves.
