RENEWORLEANS By Tim Stensland
O ne of the greatest tragedies of our time was not hurricane Katrina herself, but the response that has followed. Misguided reconstruction, unaccounted assistance has defined the social mentality of our times. Whether the response or lack thereof stems from racism or capitalism or both, it has cast a sad commentary on the state of our so-called union. Sure, there are feel good stories of rescues, miracles of survival, and brief efforts by few to restore hope and dignity to the forgotten, but the neglect and abuse has cut a deep wound in many Americans. To watch what happened following the event, stirred in me anger and embarrassment I’ve never felt. I watched in disbelief, coupled with feelings of helplessness that left me even wondering what year it was. I vented this inner tension through a series of paintings which at times made me physically sick to my stomach. I painted nearly around the clock for 6 months. At one point I had the thought that if the paintings lacked a date, would some think they were painted 60 years ago, or 100? Few would imagine them to images of 21st century America, a country so rich in resources and so eager to spend billions on other countries with political agendas, yet not taking care of their own. As New Orleans puts itself back together, the question of whether it will lose the very heart and soul that it is famous for, is still yet to be answered. I question what is to become of the art and architecture of such a deeply cultural and historical icon of the United States of America.
When I first visited New Orleans some 15 years ago, I immediately felt as if I had stepped back in time. The smell of history, the colors of art and culture, and waves of music awoke my senses. I felt as if I had been there before or that I never left and at times as if I was born there. The authenticity of the people, the freedom of expression and acceptance was genuine and inspired liberation I had never felt, being raised in a conservative, suburban, Northwest town where conformity was the order of the day. It struck me that most of its inhabitants were humble, happy and appreciative of the finer things in life like good food, music and the arts. Happiness was found when one trusted not to take things so seriously and be content with the necessities and humble acceptance in taking pride of their people and place.
I was working for a developer at the time who wanted to re­create the French Quarter, so I was there on business to study the architecture and personally, the art and music. In each of these, I found a freedom and improvisation like nowhere else. Buildings that had been added to over time in a chaotic composition that reeked like old history books, telling a tale with each broken door, slanted sidewalk, painted shutter and boarded window. Ornate handmade iron rails, stairs to apparent nowhere, narrow alleys
that opened into lush gardens and courtyards hidden away where each turn was a surprise. I thought of the parallels to my own experiences in the process of creating anything, whether art, music, architecture or life. The apparent lack of control, yielding to the flow of time and energy, dictated the pace of production,
not the rate of consumption. The result is derived from an intrinsic need rather than an external greed. There appeared to be no master plan or standard imposed for the facades, choices of colors, style of railing, heights or slopes of roofs, yet somehow it all came together in a masterful work of art.
If New Orleans is to restore itself to what it once was, then it must be given the unrestricted resources and freedom to renew its soul without being forced into sameness by codes and standards which will render its character extinct. Ideas to redesign should not intend to redefine. Modern replacements should include historical elements in materials and method. In a country whose founding principles of freedom and integrity are being eroded every day, it would be scarring to allow this wound to heal unrecognizable from its original form. There has been so much loss during and after Katrina, that to not preserve in the process of reconstruction, the vernacular of that which made it uniquely New Orleans, would be even more devastating than the event itself.