The last assignment in the photography workshop took us to St. Louis Cemetery Number 1 which is probably the cemetery that is closest to the French Quarter. It involved a ten minute walk under a blazingly blue sky and sharp sun. Cemeteries are always going to invoke some kind of response from individuals, whether they be one of quiet respect or a sense of discomfort linked to every horror movie ever made most of us are unlikely to be completely passive about them. I do have to say, though, that in such bright sunshine there was no possibility of your imagination playing tricks on you but it wasn’t difficult to picture the scene in different light, or at a different time of day, and the location then creating a totally opposed reaction to the one I was experiencing then.
Cemeteries here don’t house their dead below ground. Tombs are above ground because New Orleans finds itself below sea level and, thus, the water table is high. Burying the dead six feet under therefore becomes a risky venture as the soil is swampy and coffins fills with water even when the weather isn’t presenting itself as a storm. But, once storms hit, and rain falls in copious amounts, then things take a nasty turn. Coffins have been known to push upwards and float (eek!) and, thus, above ground burials are a necessity.
This cemetery is famous for several reasons the most notable of which are that Nicholas Cage bought the last two remaining side-by-side plots and built himself his future resting place here in the shape of a pyramid – it sticks out like a proverbial sore thumb since all other tombs are very traditional in their white marble dress – and because the tomb of Marie Laveau is here. Now, you may ask, who is this lady? Why is she famous? Well, she is the Voodoo Queen. There never was then, or since, anyone of her standing in this sphere.
Marie Laveau lived in the nineteenth century and was known for leading ceremonies where blood sacrifices, naked dancing and orgies took place around the city, and especially around the shoreline of Lake Pontchartrain, where she would sit on her throne-like chair, with an enormous snake wrapped around her, overseeing and leading these ceremonies. There are stories of her both helping the needy and those falsely accused of crimes as well as her cursing and placing hexes on others. Her notoriety still lives on today as, while I was at the cemetery, people began to arrive in large numbers to visit her tomb. Hers is not the only voodoo tomb in the cemetery and these can be spotted by the “offerings” which are placed around them. 
Colourful beads, candles, dolls and other random objects can be seen at their feet. Crosses drawn on the marble are also evident and this links to the idea that three crosses marked on the tomb qualify the person drawing them to a wish which will be granted by the spirit of the dead person buried there. The more contemporary take on this practice is that of knocking three times on the stone and making a wish. I, of course, did so, just in case.
The morning spent there was highly interesting, with me eavesdropping on the tour guides who were walking their groups along. Much of it is crumbly and old but from the perspective of the camera rich in pattern and texture – just what I like. Especially pleasing in such harsh, bright light, were the shadows created by the wrought iron railings against the marble facades of the tombs. I came away with a few photographs that I quite liked.
Voodoo tradition is woven deeply here, mixed in with Catholicism which is the dominant religion in New Orleans. There are many, many shops as well as a couple of museums dedicated to the history and practice of the Haitian-mixed-with African religion. Looking at the tomb of Marie Laveau and listening to the tour guides’ stories sparked my interest about the woman and the practices she became famous for. I need to investigate this whole aspect of New Orleans life further.
Let’s be honest, who wants to be a goody-two-shoes Disney princess when you could be a Voodoo Queen?
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Losing Sight of the Margin 