Weeks before Mardi Gras, Krewe du Vieux brings out the crowds for the kickoff of carnival season.

Shot by Jessie Torrisi with the N95 8GB; edited by Anna Holtzman.

Carnival season starts on Twelfth Night - January 6th, the twelfth night after Christmas - and climaxes on Fat Tuesday. Depending on when Easter falls, Mardi Gras ends up being anywhere from early to late February. This year, carnival came early, with the first parade on January 19th. It would be a cold carnival, many complained. But you can’t keep any self-respecting New Orleanian from a party. And we are talking about carnival season, after all.

In New Orleans, it all starts with Krewe du Vieux. Krewes are basically the posses, the groups, the teams if you will that define carnival. Krewe du Vieux - pronounced “Crew dah Vu” - is an old-school crew with its own style of carnival - welcome, friendly and diverse.

Sure, by time Mardi Gras rolls around, there are floats that stretch as far as the eye can see, each lined with dozens of masked, feathered beauties tossing glass beads. But there’s more to carnival season than that. Here at Krewe du Vieux, most groups march rather than ride a float. Participants tend to wear homemade rather than store-bought costumes. And of all the parades, Krewe du Vieux is the most satirical. Previous themes have included “FEMA” and this year’s pick, “Magical Misery Tour.” The irreverent spirit was thrilling and contagious.

By time my own crew had parked the car, walked towards the parade and started to find our friends, it was already well underway. People were standing on porches with beer cups in hand. There was a man clutching his miniature poodle, thoughtfully holding up the dog so he wouldn’t miss the action. But the parade - where was the parade? I heard it before I could see it.

The boom-boom of the bass drum was the hypnotic call. No one has to tell you where to go, or what to do; your hips find the rhythm and sway from side to side, even if you’re not a particularly good dancer. (Stay here long enough and New Orleans will make you one.) So when I found myself right in the middle of the action, I got right into the groove.

I may have been a newcomer to New Orleans, but there’s something I can tell you from marching with Krewe du Vieux: It’s all about the tuba. I don’t know why, for sure - perhaps because it’s the biggest, the loudest, the lowest, the shiniest. All I know is this: I had to follow the tuba.

Blocks later, running from the street to the sidelines to keep up with the parade, I realized I hadn’t looked up to see where my friend was, I didn’t feel a bit chilly anymore. And I had no idea if I was moving towards or away from the bar where my friends were supposedly waiting. But it was worth it. The rollicking, hold-you-tight, never-let-you-go tuba player was Brenard Adams of the TBC Brass Band. TBC stands for To Be Continued, and by sheer luck - or fate - TBC would become a recurring theme in my carnival experience.

Next up, the first Super Krewe performance of carnival season takes place at the Endymion Parade.

Jessie Torrisi is a professional musician and journalist who has spent the last decade living in Brazil, Cameroon and Brooklyn, NY. On New Year’s Day 2008, she moved to New Orleans, where she spent five months writing music, learning second line drumbeats and shooting videos about Mardi Gras and life after Hurricane Katrina.

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