An incomplete history of the foundation of The French Quarter
Between the brightly lit signs and the music notes that flow out onto the streets competing for the attention of passersby, it's easy to overlook the structures fostering the chaos while walking down Bourbon Street, the epicenter of The French Quarter in New Orleans, Louisiana. Throughout history, the space has taken many forms, reshaped by multiple rounds of colonialism, natural disasters, and a symbol of wealth disparity.
Upon admiring the architecture during my last minute trip to New Orleans, I noticed that the houses seem to shape the lifestyles of those who live within them. From congregations on the balconies– even when they’re momentarily unoccupied, the thought and care put into maintaining these outdoor spaces is evident. Many are adorned with furniture, converted into communal spaces for dining or stepping out for a smoke, some covered with plants that have grown to obstruct the view of the detailed metal work entirely.
Sitting alone with my book and a glass of mediocre Pinot Grigio, I was taken by all of the activity on each balcony. A couple eats pasta, sharing a cushioned loveseat that looks like it was made indoors. A man paints on a canvas, his art showcased through the windows of the studio that sits below him. Across the street, a kid practices violin. I'm sure that my mother would have appreciated an outdoor space to muffle my off-tune rendition of hot crossed buns during my brief attempt at a music career.
The winter cast a shadow over the afternoon, and the silhouette of a woman smoking a cigarette is illuminated by a cocktail party taking place through the large windows behind her. What looks to be a group of college students are playing beer pong, leaning over the railing to apologize each time their ball goes over. Porches have always been a southern stereotype, but what makes these balconies so unique is parallel to the complex history of its – but more on that later.
The Unexpected Gag-Order
Unraveling this history from a journalistic perspective proved to be more challenging than I had anticipated. According to one of the few historians with whom I have been able to get in touch with, “most of the architectural historians are in government (in some form) so you'll run into the same issue you have with me. I only know a couple [of them] professionally, and it would be relatively taboo to reach out to them in this capacity.”
She explained that “as a government employee, I cannot participate in any interviews regarding the work I do for the City of New Orleans. Any requests would have to be fielded through the Mayor's Office of Communications, as per the City of New Orleans Policy Memorandum No. 37(R).” – which, as she predicted, was the same response I was met with .
Unsurprisingly, I have yet to hear back from the Mayor’s Office…
What follows is obviously missing vital pieces of the timeline, but until I feel that I can do justice through my reporting— especially in regards to topics such as slavery and geo-political conflict, all of which require far more research and vigorous fact checking (and a few more sources wouldnt hurt) each for their own reasons reasons— for the time being, consider this a work in progress.
Prologue:
Locked out of the house I was staying in with less than an hour to catch my flight back to New York, I reluctantly realized that the only way in was up. As I scaled the 30 foot foundation up to the balcony, I began to thoroughly regret the research I had done on New Orleans architecture with each creaking beam. Though this house in particular was likely built within the past few decades, the cracking noises along with quotes from the historian I had met with that morning made for quite the terrifying journey.
Life threatening anecdotes aside, I am equally appalled as I am in awe of the profound and extensive history that stands as the foundation to what is now considered one of America’s most coveted cities.
Act 1: French Colonization
Like all of the most prominent cities across the world, New Orleans was colonized and exponentially developed due to its location– more specifically, “the primal access to waterways that made the transportation of goods for commerce efficient.” In other words, it was a port town. But access to the Mississippi River wasn't the only allure of the location, explained the historian I briefly spoke with. “Lake Pontchartrain, which is actually an estuary, turned out to be a safer route in terms of water transportation. It was also a bit of a shortcut, which definitely didn't hurt.”
Act 2: Family Business
Despite the fact that the transfer of Louisiana’s ownership was between cousins, France's gift to Spain wasn’t an elaborate birthday present or inheritance. The decision was made in an attempt to form an alliance during an immense global conflict in the 1700’s, as France wanted to end the war that had been raging for seven years.
Although Spain was left to pick up the pieces of the catastrophic events that would follow, it ultimately became a gold mine, figuratively speaking. Because of the forty-year span that the Spanish were in charge, the buildings are clearly influenced by spanish style architecture, though
Act 3: Nature Retaliates
When the French originally colonized New Orleans, structures were mainly built from timber alone. They would soon realize that they would have to reinforce and restructure the buildings due to immense floods that As it became increasingly clear that these floods were an inevitable reality. Since they couldnt escape them, they were going to have to up their game— literally.
Jumping forward a few centuries, Hurricane Katrina hit the city in 2005. Perhaps the most notorious natural disasters in American history, the Category 5 storm swept up the city and its surroundings, displacing millions and resulting in almost two-thousand fatalities. Needless to say, the aftermath called for billions of dollars in reparations and repercussions that are still felt to this day. According to Herbert Kona, a cab driver who gave me a ride to the airport, “I grew up in [New Orleans] and have lived here my entire life, I never had any intention of leaving.” But when the hurricane hit, he was forced to relocate his family to Huston, Texas.
Eventually, he explains, he “found [his] way back to the city he knew and loved, even though it was different then he left it [before the hurricane].” He had always planned on raising his kids in New Orleans. “I still worked here, so I was spending so little time with my family, finally my wife was like– youre always over there anyways, lets get the fuck out of Huston, I want to go home.” Because of his job “I wasn't there for a lot of it, but I know my wife was lonely. She missed her friends,” despite her best efforts, she was never able to find a sense of community during their short-lived relocation.
Act 4: An Iron(ic) Twist
The French Quarter is often referred to as a melting pot of art and culture, but that nickname doesn't only pertain to the diversity in its entertainment scene. Though most of the original French Colonial houses have burnt down in one of the multitude of fires, elements of the style are reflected within the reconstruction of the buildings. In response to a series of fires that demolished the city during the Spanish rule in the late 1700’s, building codes began to be implemented and enforced, which meant that the original timber and stucco gave way to tile, brick, and slate. Naturally, elements of Spanish architecture were prominent in the reconstruction blueprints– but seeing as French Colonialism was so deeply ingrained within the citizens and overall culture of the city, hints of it remain present to this day.
As mentioned in Act 3, inhabitants soon realized that they would have to modify their houses to withstand the recurring floods that became routine after years of endurance, introducing stucco to reinforce what had been solely timber structures. This is presumably a factor in the balcony culture, as the flooding required housing that could withstand the floods, thus creating a desire for outdoor space well above ground-level.
Throughout history, the wealthy found new ways to demonstrate their self proclaimed superiority, this came in the form of courtyards lined with greenery centered around ornate fountains. Architecturally speaking, some of the most iconic features of The French Quarter are the lacelike cast-iron porches and balconies. However, for lack of a better phrase, this all started with a bit of a royal dick swinging contest.
During the Spanish regime, the decorative use of raw-iron was all the rage, that is, for those who could afford it. Ironically, the cast-iron versions were much less expensive to craft, despite the fact that they were significantly more intricate and unique. These iterations that made the feature accessible to the middle class are much more coveted due to their beautiful shapes. Now these cast-iron balconies line most of The French Quarter, many of those which have been developed for commercial use have been turned into outdoor seating for restaurants or gardens that canopy over the sidewalks.
Act 5: Born and Raised
My go-to question when introduced to new people is usually some iteration of “where are you from?” Whether that's based on genuine interest, or to segway into any chance to bring up my hometown of San Francisco, is up for debate. Regardless, I have never been to a city in which so many of its inhabitants are natives, especially considering the fact that it has undergone such life-altering changes and, as some may say, has been “Disnefied”. Perhaps that's just because the only two cities I've lived in are made up of transplants, but that's another story. These changes, along with most major cities across the country, have been a product of gentrification– reshaping cities to be more profitable and in turn causing the cost of living to skyrocket. This makes it difficult if not impossible for those to stay within the city limits, especially given the fact that many are drawn to a life within some niche of the rich arts scene.
I was struck by how many people choose to stay in the city that they were raised in. Every single person with whom I spoke to, minus a few fellow tourists and a group of men throwing a bachelor party, had been born and raised either in or just outside the city. Many had left for college or to travel, but they all seemed to be pulled back by the magnetic energy of New Orleans.
Though a career in the art world is infamously regarded as a pipe-dream, in cities like New Orleans that are renowned for their lively art scene, making this reality is a bit more attainable. That said, many artists rely on tips from onlookers– especially when they are essentially freelancing– but find that at times (See Bourbon Street Blues), performing comes at a much greater cost than anticipated.
