Seen from the historical perspective of a FULL week later, the long weekend of October 30-November 2 certainly ranks as one of the happiest of my life.  After nearly three years of pushing, shaping, struggling, finessing, pleading, bargaining, and cajoling, Prospect.1 New Orleans finally took flight, with some 7,500 attendees taking part in Opening Weekend festivities spread all over the city. At least half of these viewers were in from out of town, as evidenced by the clusters of people roaming the streets of CBD with maps, or tooling around the Lower 9th Ward on bicycles or in cars. Many of them were stunned by the ambition of the exhibition and by the sheer beauty of the city – it was an absolutely flawless weekend – and literally hundreds of people came up to me during the four days, effusive with the most heartfelt compliments about everything we’d accomplished.

Thursday October 30 was the first official day of the P.1 preview, and by midday it seemed like things were getting off to a relatively slow start. A few hundred people came through the front doors of the CAC, where I was stationed for most of the day, greeting one out of town museum group after the other. By late afternoon, though, it was beginning to get crowded, and it seemed like a lot of people were just arriving. The Welcome Cocktail at W was the turning point, swelling to a full house by the time the party had wound down at 8. Most of us then decamped to Julia Street, where NOAD was hosting a wonderful block party, packed with music, performance art, drinks, and food. I hadn’t eaten anything at W, so I scarfed down some pulled pork barbecue on a bun, then suddenly began to realize how exhausted I was. Even though I started taking my leave by 11, for some reason it took until 1:30 to get home.
Friday October 31 started with a full-bore press conference at the Colton School, aka Studios at Colton. It was an upbeat event, quite crowded with sponsors, media, artists and friends. Jeanne Nathan, our host at Colton, welcomed the group, and both Steve Perry of CVB and Jackie Clarkson of City Council spoke eloquently about what Prospect.1 will mean to the city. I had about ten minutes at the microphone after that, and even though I managed to thank all the right people, it was also clear that I was running on sheer adrenaline. Many people afterwards mentioned that I’d spoken eloquently, and I remember putting all I had into it, but another ten minutes later, I couldn’t recall a word I’d said. Closing statements were delivered by Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu, who’s been the one local politician so far who actually found something in his budget to support our endeavor.
That evening we threw our Opening Gala at Antoine’s, a much-anticipated event with a sellout crowd of over 800 people. I was giddy the whole time, trying to alternate between working the many rooms of the fabled restaurant, and occasionally sitting down to eat something at a table in the Japanese Room with family and friends, but what I kept feeling was that I’d never attended a party as fun as this one. The food was incredibly rich and even grandiose in the old-school French fashion, organized into a menu of four separate appetizer courses. The music, by Glen David Andrews & the Lazy Six, was absolutely phenomenal, threatening at times to turn various rooms (I’m talking about you, MCA Sydney) into sheer bedlam. Even more subversive were the ‘impromptu’ performances by Diogo de Lima’s cast of uniquely talented misfits, who arrived disguised as dinner guests, only to reveal their special talents once the final course had been served. No two rooms got the same performance.
After dinner, we strolled over to Frenchmen Street, to take in the spectacle of several thousand costumed locals, growing increasingly festive in their Halloween observances. We finally tore ourselves away around 2:30, by which time the whole thing was like every Fellini movie you’ve ever seen unfolding right in your lap.
Saturday November 1 was Opening Day, beginning with a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the Old U.S. Mint, presided over by Mayor Ray Nagin, as well as Pam Breaux, Secretary of Culture, Recreation and Tourism, and three City Council members: James Carter, Jackie Crakson, and Stacy Head. Improbably for New Orleans, everything was running early, so that even though the ribbon was supposed to be cut by noon, by 11:45 Rebirth Brass Band had already finished one tune and were starting to head up Esplanade Avenue, leading a secondline into Treme, and ending at the New Orleans African American Museum. As planned, people stepped out of their houses to wave, some spectators joined the parade, and by the time we danced our way onto the grounds of the old Claude Treme estate, it seemed like music was the order of the day.
A fantastic buffet picnic lunch was served, courtesy of Dookie Chase and Whole Foods, and many of us opted to relax inside the tents and appreciate the gorgeous weather. The installations at NOAAM – McCallum & Tarry, Rico Gatson, and William Kentridge –are especially moving, but what I most enjoyed was the buoyant mood of the crowd. People kept wandering in and out for the next hour or so, and children and neighbors mingled easily with art world types. Many locals commented that they’d never been to the African-American Museum, and the visitors were totally charmed by the house and grounds.
By 2:30 an impressive crowd had gathered a couple of blocks away, on the steps of the former Gaskill-Southall Mortuary, which is now part of the New Orleans Jazz & heritage Foundation. The Navin Party, made up of Navin Rawanchaikul and Tyler Perry, had been busy for months planning their event: a jazz funeral for the late Narvin Kimball, the founding banjo player for Preservation Hall Jazz Band, presided over by the late musician’s daughter. Kimball, who had died several months after Katrina, but without ever being able to return to New Orleans, had never received the traditional musician’s sendoff, and it was the Navin’s Party’s aim to rectify that situation. The funeral, which began with a slow dirge, moved slowly down Rampart Street, with attendants holding up paintings by Navin of scenes in Kimball’s life, only to break into a lively skip and trot when the music suddenly turned jubilant.
Music was also the theme a few hours later, as Wangechi Mutu hosted a handful of local musicians and a spoken word artist to inaugurate her Prospect.1 project, Miss Sarah’s House. Because the Lasty family is known for its musical contribution to the culture of New Orleans, the event was, by turns, stately, tense, and ultimately an expression of great joy. Only minutes later, it seemed, we were squeezed into tables at Sweet Lorraine’s Jazz Club, where Kalup Linzy, barefoot and dressed in a skin-tight silver leotard, delivered a searing performance of both originals and covers, backed by the New Orleans St. Claudes, a stellar funk ensemble. I heard later that his second set, at 10 pm, was nearly twice the length, with the advantage of locals mixing with the art world habituees, but we had moved on by then. In fact, we were back at Jazz & Heritage Foundation, where Tony Fitzpatrick had invited John Boutte, Leroy Jones and Paul Sanchez to help him open his Prospect.1 project, Chapel of Moths. The band only had a couple more numbers to go, but the party was a lot of fun.

As if a whirlwind like this needs to be followed by anything, we ended the night in Algiers on the West Bank, at Mardi Gras World, for an energetic dance party featuring live performances by Irma Thomas and Big Sam’s Funky Nation. Irma’s voice has never sounded clearer, and Sam had people on their feet pretty much from the moment his band hit the stage. By 2, however, the crowd had started to dwindle, so we hightailed it back to the city.
Sunday November 2 began mellow, with a brunch at Commander’s Palace that was both languid and lavish. People made their way to various food stations, where they snacked on everything from turtle soup to Bananas Foster. Shannon Powell’s quartet provided terrific music, and Topsy Chapman handled vocal for much of the morning. But the high point for me was the star turn by Germaine Bazzle, my favorite local jazz singer and an extremely gracious lady. As P.1 artists made their way through New Orleans for site visits between July 2007 and July 2008, many of them were treated to Germaine’s now-defunct Monday night sets at Donna’s on Rampart Street.
The last event of the weekend was a truly culminating moment. At New Orleans Museum of Art at 4:30 Victor Harris and Fi Yi Yi had agreed to give a command performance, with drummer and dancers slowly building up the intensity of the moment for the first half hour, after which Harris appeared in full Mardi Gras Indian regalia. A true shaman and an electrifying performer, Harris & Fi Yi Yi are also Prospect.1 artists, showing at NOMA, and the fusion of music and visual art in their suits and accompanying documentation was a kind of crystallization, both of the weekend itself and of the larger exhibition that gave rise to it. My favorite moment came at the very end, when Victor, making his rounds from person to person, grabbed my arm and raised it, with his, in triumph, for all the 200-plus attendees to see. I felt like I had come full circle: blessed by one of the guiding lights of latter-day New Orleans vernacular culture, and treated with a brand new identity of my own: warrior.