This document of Touchet's is a coherent, well-structured record of a unique phenomenon in the black culture of North America. The "Jazz Funeral," is a distinctive form of wake in which the deceased is mourned en route to the graveyard and celebrated during the return therefrom. This is a highly ritualized ceremony, for which the musical program is often preselected by the deceased. The music played prior to the burial is slow, sombre; the procession moves with grave solemnity. Afterwards, the music explodes exuberantly and the "second lines" - the accumulated parade behind the bands - begin a dance whose symbolic purpose is the affirmation that in the midst of death we are in life. Touchet has etched all this in a dramatic way: crisp clean prints in which the figures of the participants are silhouetted against clear, featureless skies. The essay is divided into three sections: the first explores the spectators, as they would be seen by a member of the funeral procession. The second studies the processions from a spectator's-eye viewpoint, and the third records the excitement of the "second line" dance from inside the line, as though the camera were a participant. This is a coherent essay, carefully considered and assembled.

This magazine did a cover story which including eight pages of photos. The text included a piece by Gary W. Bloom about the cemeteries and burial rituals which are so unique to New Orleans. Also included was a sizable excerpt from the introduction to the book which written by Ellis L. Marsalis, Jr.

Leo Touchet is a white man photographing blacks. He takes pictures of funerals, New Orleans jazz funerals.....His photographs of the spectators and participants, even in moments of revelry still show the essential dignity of a proud people engaged in an indigenous cultural activity. They are also now increasingly a matter of historical interest because the jazz funeral is a unique and ever changing phenomenon. As the procession moves through the neighborhood, people swarm from their houses to join in. After the burial, the grand master cries out, 'He was riding high till the Good Lord (sometimes amended to the butcher) cut him down.' The band starts playing up-tempo numbers, and the crowd begins dancing through the streets.....This is not as macabre as it sounds. Death is a cause for celebration. The deceased jazz musician is now going to join the big jam session in the sky.

Leo Touchet beautifully photographed the slow mournful procession of New Orleans jazz funerals of the late 1960's and early 1970's and the joyous afterward known as the second-line. A native of Abbeville, Louisiana, Touchet captured the funeral culture of music and dancing so unique to New Orleans, in addition to close-up exhibitions of the people who kept the century-old tradition alive. Unique in itself is the period of this wonderfully designed coffee table book. Touchet's collection of duotones encapsulate that last hurrah of traditional jazz funerals, a culture that has since incorporated modern sounds and eliminated customs previous generations. The book is naturally divided into two sections, the solemn funeral processions that precede the burial and the rejoicing of the second-line after the body is laid to rest. In between are dramatic renditions of song lyrics and imagined observations of participants by Vernel Bagneris, the creator and star of the New York production of Jelly Roll!, based on the life of Jelly Roll Morton. The book concludes with a fitting thought that embraces the root of New Orleans mourning customs: “You cry when you're born, so rejoice when you die.”

“REJOICE WHEN YOU DIE” was what it said in the "subject" line of an e-mail somebody sent me. Oh great, I thought, another one of these. Well, imagine my surprise when I realized that the potentially vicious message was merely notification that I was being sent a review copy of Rejoice When You Die: The New Orleans Jazz Funerals , an attractive volume of black-and-white photographs by Leo Touchet, with text by Vernel Bagneris and an introduction by Ellis Marsalis Jr. (New Orleans native Bagneris is a playwright whose works include Jelly Roll! and One Mo' Time, and who also acts, most recently in Cy Coleman's Broadway hit The Life. Marsalis is a pianist, composer, educator and New Orleans jazz scholar. Some of his sons are trying to break into the music business.) And, if anyone was wondering, the book's title comes from the verse, ""You cry when you're born/So rejoice when you die.”

In Rejoice, Touchet's photojournalistic--and yet otherworldly--images capture the solemnity, the ritual, the mourning and the ebullience that attended the traditional jazz funeral. The sashes, banners, musical instruments, handkerchiefs and umbrellas all bestow a mystical symbolism on the proceedings. Touchet's scenes depict the seemingly ancient roles played by funeral officials, musicians and mourners, in beguiling tableaux peopled also with locals, onlookers and even tourists.

In Marsalis' introduction, he explains these New Orleans burial rites as a function of the social-aid clubs and benevolent societies that became a necessary part of black life after Emancipation. Since the 1880s, Marsalis writes, the grass-roots safety net these societies provided also included funerals with the accompaniment of local brass bands. The book's two parts are “Funeral Procession” and “Second Line.” The opening section details the mournful march to the graveside service; the concluding one describes the exuberant procession after the burial. The “second line beat” was the lively tempo that marked the return from the funeral service. The “second line” was also the assembly of friends and relations that offered support to the family of the deceased. (And to think of the raucous, joyful music that concludes the jazz funeral, I can't help but think of it as a prime example of contradictory American celebrations, like the celebrity roast.)

In jazz funerals, Touchet believes that the umbrella-tradition came about in imitation of whites, who were known for carrying parasols to keep the sun off their skin. This was not for the avoidance of skin cancer. In the intensely color-conscious world of New Orleans in the past, the deeper one's shade, the lower one was ranked in the imposed social order. Whites were said to have been worried that getting a tan might lead to being mistaken for a creole.

The positions that some mourners assume in the photos are somehow reminiscent of ecstatic dancers from North Africa or other locales. “There definitely was a feeling of it,” said Touchet. “There's a certain strut, a certain style. And it didn't matter what the music was--I learned the movement more than anything else. I'm not really musically inclined. I just learned the movement and was able to photograph it that way. I've seen funerals in the Islands and they did this very similar strut. And that's very much African, there.”

Bagneris' text explains that there was a palpable element of fear in the funerals, as legend had it that the soul of the newly-interred might recoil from the hereafter and possess one of the mourners: “So, the family would shake from head to toe waddling back home. That would keep them from being easy targets. It was an eerie sight to see.”

But these photographs also show more mundane accoutrements, such as a bass bedecked in what looks like flowers for the procession for a deceased bassist. Touchet recalls a drummer's funeral where his drums were draped in black cloth for the funeral procession. “They would usually carry the instrument of the person who died,” said Touchet.

To remind readers of what an authentic jazz funeral sounded like, the publishers of Rejoice When You Die make available an accompanying CD of music traditional to these rites. The selections, chosen from a list compiled by Touchet, Bagneris and Marsalis, include gospel classics “Old Rugged Cross,” “What A Friend” and “Amazing Grace,” as well as more secular themes “When The Saints Go Marchin' In” and “Didn't He Ramble?” New Orleans-based ensemble DeJan's Olympia Brass Band performs the classic material in the classic style, under the direction of Milton Batiste.

New Orleans is a strange place: a confluence of the very old Catholic French and Spanish cultures colliding and merging with both the decidedly strange Afro-Caribbean culture that came later and the Native Americans who were here before anyone else - all fusing into something completely unique to North America. And the music is likewise unlike anything else you'll ever hear: jazz so primeval that you'll swear that the loa themselves are riding the musicians. And jazz so sweet that you'll believe that angels themselves slumming.

Jazz funerals have a long and complex history in New Orleans. And much of their appeal is in the visual impact of a full-blown funeral procession, Observe that I specifically noted the photographer (Leo Touchet) in the credits as the photographs are what make this book worth every halfpenny of its price. There are more than one hundred black-and-white photographs taken at jazz funerals between 1968 and 1970. In every photo Leo Touchet has captured the sheer joy inherent in the celebration of the life of a musician who lived life to its fullest. And the community who knew and loved that person shows that by partying in a manner fitting that of a jazz musician: loudly with much motion.

The text by Vernel Bagneris more than amply frames the photographs that were taken at various funerals including that of Paul 'T-Boy" Barbarin and social club member Leon "Nooney-Boy" Shelly. Bagneris correctly notes that this is after all a party, a celebration of life, not a sad ending at all. Dance, music, food, and storytelling all fuse into something that's truly a revel. It's a fitting touch that Vernel Bagneris, a playwright, includes the wry observations of the recently departed.

The final fitting touch is the insightful introductory commentary by noted jazz musician Ellis L. Marsalis Jr. who provides the necessary information to fully appreciate both the funerals themselves and the musical tradition that created them. REJOICE WHEN YOU DIE: The New Orleans Jazz Funerals belongs in the collection of anyone interested in jazz and jazz culture at its very best.

Leo Touchet's photos of jazz funerals are straightforward and realistic in nature. His book is a comprehensive documentary of each step of the ritual -- from the slow march to the cemetery to the exuberant stomp after the dead man has been interred.

Interestingly, he may well have recorded the beginning of the end of the jazz funeral as an authentic expression of grief in the African-American community. Taken from 1968 to 1970, Touchetes photos capture the influx of white curiosity seekers to what had been for centuries an organic ceremony for the friends, family and community of the dead musician.

Touchet pulls his lens back from the funeral cortege to show young, white, hip guys and gals, many sporting cameras around their necks, perched atop the tombs as the musician is being buried. The effect is sadness -- for the dead man, but also for an institution that was about to become one more cog in the New Orleans culture machine.

Not surprisingly, Rejoice When You Die features numerous photographs of New Orleans cemeteries. Indeed New Orleans jazz funerals and cemeteries have much in common. Both celebrate death in a peculiarly Creole way. American culture, by contrast, abhors death. As this book makes abundantly clear, the ready acceptance of lifees end may well be the characteristic that most distinguishes New Orleans from the nation to which it ostensibly belongs.

In New Orleans, we're accustomed to the tradition and sound of a brass band accompanying a funeral procession. That the deceased's life should be celebrated while his death is mourned is a concept that has been embraced by those who call this city home. However common the spectacle, the importance and emotional impact of witnessing - or being a participant in - the ceremony remains special. Visitors have long been curious about what to them is an unusual phenomenon.

In more than 100 black-and-white photographs taken from 1968 to 1970, Leo Touchet brings the viewer to the final tributes of a number of famous New Orleans jazz musicians, including clarinetist George Lewis, bassist Alcide eSlow Drage Pavageau and drummer Paul Barbarin. In the books first half, we are among the onlookers sitting on stoops or leaning up against the paint-peeled siding of a Creole cottage. We observe pallbearers solemnly carrying a leaf-printed coffin from the church as mourners wipe their tears with white handkerchiefs. A photograph of a grand marshal of Olympia Brass band is seen early in Rejoice When You Die, his great dignity is preserved in the photo - standing with his chin high and his black hat held just so in his white gloved hand. In the second half, we dance beneath the hot sun, umbrellas providing shade as trombone slides brush our cheeks.

Paywright/actor Vernel Bagneris' poetic script, which often speaks as if he too is among the crowd, adds to the emotional atmosphere. Sometimes, Bagneris simply offers the lyrics to songs like “Amazing Grace” to lend a sentimental feeling to the photos. The emotions created by the pictures and the narrative are authentic, reflecting the pain and the joy that are at the heart of jazz funerals. The book is dramatic and sincere in its composition and warm and poetic in its narrative.

Accompanying the book is a CD of traditional brass band funeral music played by the Olympia Brass Band, a welcome addition, especially for those unfamiliar with the genre. The disc begins appropriately with the slow dirge “Sweet Bye and Bye.”

It's interesting to note that even though Bagneris writes about how jazz funerals have changed - in many ways, they have - these photographs speak more to how much they have remained the same. Remove the Converse sneakers from the young men second-lining down the street and replace them with Nikes or Reeboks, and the guys of 1968 are dancing much as they do in 1998. The tradition continues, and the moves, back-jumping and attitude remain. When one of our musicians passes on, they still receive a ceremony respectful of their contributions and artistry.

The word "unique" is overused in general. And it probably should be banned, put on moratorium, stricken from the dictionary when it comes to things pertaining to New Orleans. Except when it comes to jazz funerals. What other word applies?

As proof, Leo Touchet, born in Abbeville, Louisiana, the very heart of Cajun country, has assembled - with the help of playwright Vernel Bagneris and jazz patriarch Ellis Marsalis - "Rejoice When You Die."

The coffee-table book is full of black and white photographs that Touchet took between 1968 and 1970. Ites also full of life. Thates the unique part. Only in New Orleans could a funeral turn into a festival.

A traditional jazz funeral starts off somber enough, as Touchet shows in the first part of "Rejoice." The grand marshals, hats in hand, strut before the procession. Gleaming hearses, natty pallbearers and a brass band wearing uniforms dark as a widowes weeds follow.

But on the way back from the burial, when the procession has reached what Marsalis, in his introduction, calls a "respectful distance," a trumpeter signals the drums to play. Thates when the umbrellas start blooming and the crowd forms a second line to dance along with the beat. The second half of Touchetes book documents that colorful street party. Touchet, who took nearly 30 years to put "Rejoice" together, said he had to let the ideas stew.

Marsalis thinks some of the traditions are in danger. Though jazz funerals are still a part of New Orleanse black culture, Marsalis bemoans the switch from longtime standards to popular music and the loss of the quiet march to the grave. The most important change is that nowadays anyone can buy a jazz funeral, a rite that was once reserved for musicians and social club members.

Marsalis is certain that the jazz funerales traditions go back to Africa, and they lay in hibernation through the years of slavery, only to be reborn after the Civil War, when social-aid clubs and benevolent societies, which are now dying institutions themselves, assisted former slaves with all means of support "that would have otherwise been difficult or impossible for them to enterain."

Things like medical bills and insurance - and a funeral that benefited a manes diginity and celebrated his joy. The cost? Marsalis says, "Twenty-five cents a week would ensure a member a proper burial."

The collection of 113 black-and-white photographs chronicles the pageantry of the musical send-offs long a tradition at New Orleans jazz funerals. Spectators, marchers, and plain people are drawn by this final eulogy to the departed. Vernel Bagneris has provided the text for Leo Touchet's stirring images, which have appeared in Life, Time, Newsweek, Fortune, and The New York Times.

The book rejoices, as do the onlookers, giving the reader an accurate and moving portrait of a unique rite of genuflection.