ARCHITECTURE
The Music Box Village A METAPHORICAL UTOPIA OF SONG AND PLAY
Story by Kristy Christiansen • Photos by Paul Christiansen
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n an obscure corner of New Orleans’ Bywater neighborhood, tucked in tight between the quiet Induhstrial Canal levee and the bustling St. Claude Avenue bridge, a corrugated metal wall stands rusted in a half-hidden circle behind a row of trees. An arrow proclaiming “Enter Here” points to a dirt path disappearing around the wall’s left side, meandering along while muffled clanks and metal sounds whisper from the right. The path ends abruptly at a wide, open door—the sounds from within now louder and more distinct, promising an experience beyond the norm. This is the Music Box Village—a shanty town pieced together from found objects and donated treasures, a musical haven vibrating with an all-encompassing energy. It’s also the flagship project of New Orleans Airlift, a non-profit that works to connect and foster opportunities for artists. At first glance, the hodge-podge collection of playhouses seems to have jumped straight off the pages of a children’s storybook. They are scattered throughout the property, each a unique glimpse into
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an artist’s imagination. A magical gazebo stands beside a human-sized bird cage; a water tower guards over the yard, across from an elevator reminiscent of Willy Wonka’s. Metal steps ascend into tree houses, leading to views of both the Village and the Bywater just outside. The structures each hold an element in common, though. They beg to be explored. You won’t find a sign here warning, “Don’t touch”. Grab a drumstick and start banging away on the garbage lids and upcycled colanders. Tug on ropes and experiment with the varying, albeit eerie, wind sounds they create. Mid-afternoon on a recent Saturday, a blur of toddlers and young children rushed from one house to the next. They opened doors, pressed buttons, flipped switches, and played the guitar string railings. A Mardi Gras Indian called down from above, while a rubber flipflop slapped out a tune on some pipes. Everything makes music. Emilia Oddo, Tulane assistant professor of Greek archaeology, laughed as her daughter spoke into a pay phone that broadcast her voice across the Village. “We love coming here,” said Oddo.
F E B 2 2 // C O U N T R Y R O A D S M A G . C O M
“It’s a fun and friendly atmosphere, where the kids can experiment with eclectic musical instruments in a stimulating environment. Meanwhile, the adults can chat, drink, and take it all in.” It’s quirky and fun, and not just for kids. As dusk darkens to an inky black night, the lights flicker on, illuminating the shanty village in an ethereal spotlight. On the night we visited, House Band leader Andy Page and his fellow members exited the shadows and spread out across the Village. They conjured images of circus performers returning to their makeshift town after an evening’s show, ready to relax and play their own style of entertainment. Page carefully tuned a door and set an ambient loop running between each of the houses, before pulling out his saxophone and launching into a jazzy tune. Another member joined in on trumpet, and a third drummed out a masterful beat on old kitchenware. “It never fails. About thirty minutes into us playing, about seventy-five percent of the audience joins in,” said Page, who splits his time between the Music Box and playing jazz gigs across the city. “It’s about setting a beat for the people who go in and don’t know how to interact with the houses. We make them feel more comfortable.” Overseeing the performance and her crew under the metaphorical Big Top, Director of Public Programs and Community Engagement at New Orleans Airlift Eliza McDermott stood wrapped in a bold, red jacket, striking the quintes-
sential image of ringmaster. McDermott is continually finding ways to match community partners with the Village, while spearheading programs that involve the public, whether through Seasonal Music Box Village Open Hours, Sunday Brass Brunches, Art Markets, community education initiatives, and more. “We facilitate collaboration, making a creative space for people who otherwise wouldn’t engage,” said McDermott. “Strangers who might never interact find themselves playing music together. It builds community, empathy, trust.” History of Music Box Village The original Music Box Village was built in 2010, on Piety Street. The dilapidated late 1700s Creole cottage on cofounder Jay Pennington’s property became the cornerstone for an innovative idea to create musical, interactive architecture. “We were going to do a three-month run, but it was so successful we stayed much longer,” said Delaney Martin, multi-media installation artist and cofounder of the Music Box Village and New Orleans Airlift. After Piety Street, they took the concept to the road, sending New Orleans artists to collaborate with local builders, artists, and musicians in cities as far away as Kiev, Ukraine. “This is a project born of New Orleans and speaks to our music, but when we do Outposts, we always find people to collaborate [with] and harness the cultural context of an area,” said Martin. Locally, the group created another
