Everyone knows the Blue Dog, whether they know the artist’s name or not. Most Louisianians do. But long before the Blue Dog with its kitsch mass-marketing appeal, George Rodrigue was celebrated for his regional stories in oil. They are stories that no one, save Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, had ever told well enough to capture the intrigue of the world.
On view are more than fifty of the artist’s early works, including the fifteen-painting series Saga of the Acadians. The First Cajuns, George Rodrigue. (Fair Use.)
I became acquainted with the work of Rodrigue while in high school when his work hanged in restaurants. I also recall Mother and I having dinner when I fell in love with a painting; it was $1,300 according to the card stuck to the wall next to it; she said that was a lot of money for artwork, that dad would kill her. That kind of money in our family was reserved for guns and dogs, never fine art.
In a landmark exhibition, Rodrigue: Before the Blue Dog hangs at the Cabildo. It was a must see for me while in New Orleans for my birthday this year. Unfortunately, the day before my birthday marked the worst terrorist attack in Louisiana history when an islamic extremist drove his truck through New Year’s revelers on Bourbon Street. So, understandably, but disappointingly, the museum was closed the next day.
The sky above cracks and rain falls across the French Quarter. Prepared, I have an umbrella and look forward to a day of antique shopping and a date with Rodrigue. Nothing will stop me on this trip.
Perhaps the perfect lamp, at $2,800 it could be just the statement piece necessary.
I am not just wandering aimlessly through the fancy antique shops of Royal. I am looking for the right lamp for a client. The shops are beautiful, and it reminds me of the olden days when I shopped for a list of wonderful things for my clients and for myself.
I leave my umbrella at the door of each fantastical shop and hunt through the treasures, a man on a mission, seeing things I wish I could take home. But no, one more piece of furniture in my own home and I’m walking sideways to get through the living room. One more chair in my bedroom and there’d be no more room for shoes. I’ve seen less chairs in a Michelin-star restaurant than in my bedroom. The rain falls harder, but I really need a lamp.
I find a worthy candidate, perhaps the perfect lamp, at $2,800 it could be just the statement piece necessary.
Mission accomplished, I press on, through the rain and the mystique of a most incredible city toward Jackson Square.
On the second floor in the first gallery off the landing, a portrait of the Micaela Almonester, Baroness de Pontalba is prominently displayed.
Originally the seat of Spanish colonial government in Louisiana, the Cabildo stands next to the St. Louis Cathedral. Rebuilt in 1795, the building is now a branch of the Louisiana State Museum.
On the second floor in the first gallery off the landing, a portrait of the Micaela Almonester, Baroness de Pontalba is prominently displayed. Daughter of Don Andres Almonester y Rojas, a wealthy notary who amassed his fortune through his power in the Cabildo, Baroness de Pontalba built the flanking landmark Pontalba Apartment Buildings. Don Andres Almonester gave the money to build the St. Louis Cathedral, among other landmarks in New Orleans. So the family has a legacy of shaping New Orleans. It’s nice to see her face, in close to person as I’ll ever be.
Intimate Enemies: The Two Worlds of Baroness de Pontalba by Christina Vela is an engrossing biography. But an easy read it is not. Vela weaves a tale through meticulous research of the life of this historic, and often tragic, woman from birth to death. She even survived a brutal assassination attempt by her own father-in-law in an attempt to steal her money. Documented with court records and letters, I recommend the book for history buffs rather than the average bedtime reader. (Click here for the book: https://amzn.to/4lS9Hyz “As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.”)
In the grand gallery spanning the width of the building a placard marks, “Lafayette Stood Here”
Also on the second floor, particular attention is given to the Marquis de Lafayette as April 2025 marks the 200th anniversary of his visit to New Orleans, an exhibit called Bienvenue Lafayette. In 1825, Cabildo offices were transformed into a residence and reception hall for the French hero of the American Revolution. In the grand gallery spanning the width of the building a placard marks, “Lafayette Stood Here” with footprints enabling the viewer to survey Jackson Square, then called the Place d’Armes where a 58-foot triumphal arch had been erected in his honor.
I run my hands up on more flight of stairs, the same banister touched by Don Andres Almonester, Lafayette, Huey Long, and other historical figures, the third floor in its entirety is dedicated to Rodrigue, (1944-2013), the only internationally recognized Louisiana artist and primarily known for the Blue Dog, a Cajun/Pop hybrid. But this is not a blog to relate the history of the artist–go to Wikipedia or any of the other hundreds of blog posts or books. (Click here for George Rodrigue, Cajun Artist: https://amzn.to/4cSqDRn ” “As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.”) But to Cajuns, his historical documentation is monumental.
But to Cajuns, his historical documentation is monumental. Portrait of the Broussard Children, George Rodrigue.
On view are more than fifty of the artist’s early works, including the fifteen-painting series Saga of the Acadians. His Sage collection, 1985-1989, traces the history of the Cajun ancestors as they journeyed from France to Nova Scotia and on to Louisiana during the Grand Derangement of 1755.
In Evangeline, Longfellow tells the story of a young girl searching for her lost love during the expulsion of the Acadians. The epic had a powerful effect in defining Cajun identity and history, representing lost love and heartbreak, and hope. But Longfellow told his story in dactylic hexameter, echoing the poetic style of Greek and Latin classics. Pretty pictures are much easier to understand. (Click here for book: https://amzn.to/4ivQ5gN “As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.” Yada yada yada.)
The Cajuns are a distinct ethnic group who are descendants of the Acadian exiles. From early in the 17th Century, Louisiana had already been settled by French colonists. But the Acadian settlers were forced from their homeland during hostilities between the French and British in what is called the Great Expulsion or Le Grand Dérangement. The British took control of French Acadia in 1710 but spent the next 45 years forcing the Acadians to either sign oaths of allegiance or to be exiled. Joseph Broussard, my ancestor known as Beausoleil, is widely known as the most prominent leader of the resistance.
With stylized oak trees anchoring each composition, the landscapes symbolize the Cajun community’s relationship to the land and its traditions. Happy Oaks A & Our Oak, George Rodrigue.
Most regions of the United States celebrate original land grant families. But for centuries the Cajuns were dismissed as unintelligent and unsophisticated. In the 20th Century the Cajuns made advances to assimilate into American society without abandoning their own traditions and history. It is only in recent decades that their value to the cultural economy has been embraced.
Now anyone with a Louisiana zip code wants to claim Cajun status and businesses want to profit from the unique Cajun cache’. For this reason, it was earth shattering for a creative mind to finally elevate the plight to fine art.
Within the vast openness of the third floor, a breathtaking number of paintings can be seen at once–the space so vast it almost absorbs the canvases lining the walls. His style is described as Bayou Surrealism or Naive Surrealism, employing simplistic or unsophisticated elements, blurring the line between dream and memory.
With stylized oak trees anchoring each composition, the landscapes symbolize the Cajun community’s relationship to the land and its traditions.
His style is described as Bayou Surrealism or Naive Surrealism, employing simplistic or unsophisticated elements, blurring the line between dream and memory. Jolie Blonde, George Rodrigue.
His colors are blended and vibrant and abrupt, and achingly beautiful.
As an artist I am humbled and honestly jealous of the mastery he so fluidly and seemingly easily achieved. So simple and shockingly pure.
Because of the rain, I am the only person in the building–except for those working. It is like a private tour; I do have a knack for picking times in which I’m the only visitor. Well, it is either a knack, or perhaps that no one else is interested in the things I like to do. I’ll just leave that there for your own interpretation.
The rain intensifies while in the museum. I cannot remember being caught in such a tropical downpour. Water is falling from the rooftops like Angel Falls; water is spewing from downpipes like fluid palm trees. Water is going down, up, and sideways; walking up Chartres is like walking through a car wash.
The water is so deep it covers the sidewalk. At least the water looks clean, except for the occasional aqua rat. One would think that water flowing through the Vieux Carre would be filthy, you know with cigarette butts, horse shit, vomit, plastic cups, beads, 400 years of grime. The most shallow part of Royal is the center of the street; people cheer and snap photos as I strut right up the middle. My Gucci shoes are ruined.
As a small souvenir while my shoes are uselessly under the hairdryer, I pull out my sketchbook and pencils to interpret a classic Rodrigue landscape.
Thoroughly drenched and back at my hotel, I step onto the elevator with two young ladies. They’re wet. I say, “I hope y’all are having a good time.”
“We are. It’s her birthday but too bad about the rain!”
I reply, “Sometimes a dirty old city like this just needs a good bath.”
They laughed in agreement, then disembarked before I reached the top level.
As a small souvenir while my shoes are uselessly under the hairdryer, I pull out my sketchbook and pencils to interpret a classic Rodrigue landscape.
And by the way, that $1,300 painting that I begged Mother for in the 1980s is easily worth over $100,000 today, probably more.
Rodrigue: Before the Blue Dog runs through September 2025. The Cabildo is located at 701 Chartres Street in Jackson Square. Go there.
Link to Rodrigue, Before the Blue Dog| Louisiana State Museums