Photoset

Kate, 2012 followed by My Satin, Mama’s Silk 2014

This week for Eyes on the South, we take a look at the work of Marcie Hancock. Marcie says,

This series is a narrative investigation of the man-woman and culture-nature dichotomies. While these comparisons are more metaphorical than literal, they lend themselves to the understanding of how objectification, gender, and oppression translate between systems of being. 

Photoset

Antone Dolezal and Lara Shipley discuss their work:

The Ozarks are a place you feel. The dark nooks to hide, made in encroaching woods and the banks of rivers, the smell of wet life and decay, a steady insect hum, all create a backdrop for a people with a particular fascination for the mysteries of darkness and light. Here some of the oldest stories of humanity are told—wanderer’s lost souls and paths taken towards good or evil—but with a local twist in the tale of a strange orb of light.

You can find more from their series, Devil’s Promenade, here.

Photo
We’re on our way to Nashville! Come see us this weekend at the Southern Festival of Books. @sofestofbooks

We’re on our way to Nashville! Come see us this weekend at the Southern Festival of Books. @sofestofbooks

Photo
Earl Brown, Vice President of the Blue Monday Shad Fry, displays uncooked roe. East Arcadia, April 2013.
 Blue Monday, continued

 I first attended the East Arcadia Blue Monday Shad Fry in April 2013. My business there was to do with a folklife documentation project for the NC Folklife Institute. I arrived at Lock and Dam No. 1 with my colleague, the folklorist Steve Kruger, around noon. Steve and I were fairly conspicuous—white guys with notebooks and cameras. Everyone was very generous and welcoming. When I asked if I could have another helping of shad roe, Earl Brown shoveled about two pounds off the cooker onto the paper plate that I was holding, which bent under the weight.


 Read the rest of Chris Fowlers’ Blue Monday companion photo essay: Things to Eat.

Earl Brown, Vice President of the Blue Monday Shad Fry, displays uncooked roe. East Arcadia, April 2013.

 Blue Monday, continued

 I first attended the East Arcadia Blue Monday Shad Fry in April 2013. My business there was to do with a folklife documentation project for the NC Folklife Institute. I arrived at Lock and Dam No. 1 with my colleague, the folklorist Steve Kruger, around noon. Steve and I were fairly conspicuous—white guys with notebooks and cameras. Everyone was very generous and welcoming. When I asked if I could have another helping of shad roe, Earl Brown shoveled about two pounds off the cooker onto the paper plate that I was holding, which bent under the weight.

 Read the rest of Chris Fowlers’ Blue Monday companion photo essay: Things to Eat.

Text

ISSUE 86: Blue Monday

Photography by Chris Fowler

A delicate incision down the female shad’s stomach liberates a pair of surprisingly large vaguely orange lobes, redolent of lungs. Connected by a bloody membrane, each pouch contains about 300,000 eggs, and they are most commonly poached or sautéed intact. In season, you can get shad roe at New York’s Grand Central Oyster Bar, with bacon and a broiled tomato, for about thirty dollars. Hominy Grill in Charleston sautées roe in butter and serves it with bacon, mushrooms, asparagus, lemon, garlic, and Tabasco, and at Atlanta’s Empire State South, it’s cured and plated with butter and sliced radishes.

Read the rest of John McElwee’s Blue Monday, from our fall issue.

Photo
General Store, McKee, KY 2011
Carey Gough on her photograph series of Kentucky music: 

These images are meditations on time and nostalgia. The sites documented are often abandoned, dilapidated, or just empty. Despite the cultural pedigree of these places, time has taken its toll. 

General Store, McKee, KY 2011

Carey Gough on her photograph series of Kentucky music: 

These images are meditations on time and nostalgia. The sites documented are often abandoned, dilapidated, or just empty. Despite the cultural pedigree of these places, time has taken its toll. 

Text

ISSUE 86: Flood Protection

"Les Naturalistes, 2013" (detail), by Ysabel LeMay

 John Barry Goes Coastal on Big Oil

One night in February, John Barry rode a mule-drawn float through the carnival crush of the Faubourg Marigny, an old Creole neighborhood in downtown New Orleans. Chosen to reign as King of the Krewe du Vieux parade, he flourished an oversized quill pen with an ostrich plume instead of a scepter and wore a velvet tunic emblazoned with a gold fleur-de-lis. His royal float was edged in fat black droplets of oil threatening forlorn snowy egrets, glitter-dusted wetlands flora, and too-blue water. Barry, the author of best-selling books on the great Mississippi flood of 1927 and the deadly flu epidemic of 1918, had become something of a local hero for spearheading a high-profile lawsuit aiming to make oil and gas companies restore coastal land damaged by their work.

Read the rest of Anne Gisleson’s Flood Protection from our fall issue.

Text

ISSUE 86: Twenty Seconds with the King

"Dancers at Club Ebony," by Bill Steber

Almost every year since 1980, Indianola has celebrated the B.B. King Homecoming Festival. Though the date may change year to year because of King’s schedule, the event is practically a holiday. Thousands attend the one-day festival. Food trucks and street vendors appear; police look the other way as bottles of booze pass from hand to hand; lawn chairs and sun umbrellas unfurl next to large, sweaty families; coolers rattle with ice. A carnival used to come, but officials shut it down because carnies were breaking into residents’ homes. Kids who have grown up watching King play every summer take it for granted. It’s not until they leave Indianola and say they’ve seen B.B. King twelve times that the responding “oohs” and “aahs” inform them of their rare privilege.

Read the rest of Phil McCausland’s Twenty Seconds with the King here.

Photo
Thelma’s, 2013
In Adam Forrester’s photo series, In the Valley, he explores the natures of memory and place. 

Thelma’s, 2013

In Adam Forrester’s photo series, In the Valley, he explores the natures of memory and place. 

Text

Notes of a Native Daughter

From “Poetry in Place” an OA Symposium"Luck" by Nadezda Nikolova, courtesy of the artist

My father was the son of sharecroppers. He grew up behind a mule’s ass, plowing fields and picking cotton. Redneck was a word of pride in his family. Dirt poor, they worked all day beneath a fierce sun; their burnt necks a sign of their struggle to survive.

In self-portraits, my father painted his skin the same color as the red clay roads of his childhood. 

“That red clay is indelible in your soul,” my mother said. It stained everything: our clothes, our skin, the taste of iron in our drinking water. It stained me.

From Notes of a Native Daughter by Ansel Elkins

Text

Amy Evans: Art & Pie

AGNES
“Agnes loved combing mayonnaise through her curls”
24 in. x 36 in. | acrylic on wood panel | 2014

This August, Amy C. Evans left her role as lead oral historian of the Southern Foodways Alliance, where, over the last twelve years, she conducted more than two-hundred individual interviews around the South and beyond. She was the main architect behind the SFA’s four culinary trails. “Amy built the SFA’s documentary program,” SFA director and Oxford American columnist John T. Edge said. “We’re very proud of what she accomplished, of how she comported herself, and of how she stewarded the people she interviewed.” 

 Editorial intern Heather Richie examines Amy Evans’s Art & Pie

Photo
"Crowd in the bottom hunting," Panola County, Mississippi, ca. 1920s. Courtesy of James Seay
Another photo from James Seay’s One Corner of Yoknapatawpha in OA 86.

"Crowd in the bottom hunting," Panola County, Mississippi, ca. 1920s. Courtesy of James Seay

Another photo from James Seay’s One Corner of Yoknapatawpha 
in OA 86.

Photo
General James Stone’s clubhouse, Panola County, Mississippi. Courtesy of James Seay
From our fall issue, One Corner of Yoknapatawpha

General James Stone’s clubhouse, Panola County, Mississippi. Courtesy of James Seay

From our fall issue, One Corner of Yoknapatawpha

Text

ISSUE 86: One Corner of Yoknapatawpha

"Cotton Harvest" by McNair Evans, from Confessions for a Son (2014)

Faulkner named his “apocryphal county,” as he called it, after an actual river, the Yoknapatawpha, which was the Chickasaw name for the river that is now called the Yocona, a corruption of Yoknapatawpha. A further variation appears on an 1861 map I located at the U.S. Corps of Engineers in Vicksburg, Mississippi. The river is identified as “Yoch na pata fa.” Above it, and sited on the Tallahatchie River, is the now vanished town of Panola. My father’s camp, General Stone’s camp, and the confluence of the Yocona River with the Tallahatchie River were all within a radius of less than ten miles.

Read the rest of James Seay’s piece from our fall issue here.

Link

Please support this award.