Grammy Award-winning trumpet player Chris Botti, who cut his chops playing the clubs and the pubs, brings his chill to the Heymann Center. By Anna Purdy
Adding to its track record of stellar talent strolling through the Hub City, PASA is hosting a performance by world-renowned jazz trumpet player Chris Botti. We talked serendipity, why he’s reportedly Sting’s evil little brother, and how today’s up-and-coming musicians shouldn’t take their cues from reality TV.
Mysterious cow disappearances, evangelical tent revivals and a bat-human mutant hybrid take the stage at Cite des Arts.
July 21, 2010
Written by Annie Bares
Song, dance and jazz hands are standard fare in musical theatre. But mysterious cow disappearances, evangelical tent revivals and a bat-human mutant hybrid? Not so much.
Kids across the South are making lemonade to help wildlife affected by the oil spill.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Written by Erin Z. Bass
It’s a story as old as time: A brother and sister decide to open a summertime lemonade stand. But this time their motive involved much more than boredom or earning a buck for the ice cream truck. In Alexandria, 8-year-old Mark Terrillion and his 6-year-old sister, Lizette, wanted to help the pelicans affected by the oil spill and set up shop in front of their aunt’s gift shop...
Two decades in the making, the Bayou Teche Museum opens its doors in New Iberia.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Written by Mary Tutwiler
Photos by Robin May
Time seems to stand still under the oaks that line Bayou Teche. Change, when it comes, comes slowly. That suspension of modernization is part of the legacy of the people who chose to live along the bayou, the twisting water snake the Chitimacha tribe called “Teche,” the word for serpent in its language.
Back from the abyss, Scott Alan Stagg is clean and sober and staging a comeback.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Written by Dege Legg
Each man has his own myth. Sometimes the man is larger than the myth. Sometimes the myth dwarfs the man. Sometimes the myth and the man wrestle in such close quarters — each rearing its head at odd intervals — that one can never properly distinguish the two. Scott Alan Stagg is a man who has wrestled with his own myth.
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