2025 Program
Thank you to New Orleans photographer Frank Relle for the beautiful cover photo. Below, read more about the location of the photograph and Frank’s story behind the image.
“2004 feels like a long time ago. Things were different then; the light was different. There were no glaring white LED lamps or motion sensor security floods. To get the shot, I remember wedging myself and my tripod down between two old cars. One of them had two years of leaves in front of the tires. The golden light of high-pressure sodium buzzed at the corner. I added a mercury vapor from the kit in my trunk to bring in the greens. The streetcar’s electric beat skipped and filtered through oak branches from a block away.
On that porch, she served me freshly made strawberry scones with whipped butter. No, it wasn’t like that—but those scones tasted like she loved me. A Jamaican scribbler friend lived upstairs. I can still see him beaming, his hand on the front gate. I wonder how many romantics that wrought iron has held up over the years. She found her way to flowers in New York, then sculpture. He found his way to books in Massachusetts. Others weren’t so lucky—the bottle kept them where they were.
Some buildings in this city seem to carry the lives of artists as if it’s their responsibility. I wonder how that happens? Who was the crew who lived there before us, back in the 70s or 80s? I bet someone in Tennessee’s circle knew someone who lived there. New Orleans was that—a place made to percolate, a city that collects people, holds them, lets them pass through, and reshapes their flavor. A place from a time when things were built to be seen, experienced, not just to be counted.
During that time, my dreams and fears kept me awake. I knew I wanted to find my own way to be, but I feared the doubters would be right about my choices. I had heard the voice in church that cut through the words, tasted the flavors that lasted in my mind, felt the tuba under the overpass, and watched the theater of connection emerge from solo sounds at Donna’s on Rampart. I’d read the words that flowed from the pens in these places. I knew I wanted to be part of it, to step into the great swirling conversation of people creating New Orleans across time.
I said things were different then. Maybe it’s just me; I was 28, waiting tables in the Quarter since 94. I’d make my way down there on the streetcar, on my bike, and some nights I just walked home. I needed something to wind down— from the swirl of being in the middle of everything, yet invisible at the same time. It was a time when rents were cheap enough that you could work a few shifts and still own your time, own your mind. After countless journal entries, I found photography, or photography found me.
I hadn’t been shooting for long when I thought—oh yeah, that place over on Washington. That one has something to say; I need to get that one. That building helped us. It reminded us we had a place. It reminded us to take time with the comedy and the tragedy—sit with the laughter and the chaos to feel the beauty of it all.”
Frank Relle is a photographer born and based in New Orleans, Louisiana. He graduated from Tulane University with degrees in Cognitive Science and Philosophy. Since 2005, his work has been included in several museum collections and in private collections around the world.
Relle’s photographs have been featured on the covers of books, magazines, and on television. He has been honored with numerous international awards. Relle was the curator of the United States Embassy-sponsored New Orleans to Moscow Cultural Exchange Exhibition at the Multimedia Museum in Moscow.
