How Wooden Ducks Inspired Vision for Louisiana’s Declining Coast | Environment

But first there were these ducks, carved over decades in the southern Louisiana tradition, which tell their own unique story about the state’s disappearing wetlands. They were donated to the New Orleans Historical Collection on the condition that some of them remain on display.

Renovations to one of the collection’s buildings in the neighborhood forced curators to consider how to proceed in another space across Royal Street.

The solution, explained chief curator Jason Wiese, was to step back and tell the full story of the coast — at least as much as the relatively small spaces of the 19th-century building would allow. That would allow the ducks to be exhibited in their “cultural and geographic context,” he explained.

“These works come from coastal communities and the traditions of those communities, so maybe we should start there and tell a larger story about coastal Louisiana,” Wiese said in introducing the new exhibit. “That’s how this idea started.”

He has also sent mixed signals about support for the largest coastal restoration project ever, the Mid-Barataria Sediment Diversion, which is opposed by commercial fishermen in the area where it is being built. Many scientists and coastal advocates say the unprecedented project is vital, calling it a solution that works with nature to build land.

The concept for the collection exhibit had already begun to take shape before that and couldn’t be seen as political. But Wiese acknowledged those concerns and noted that the end of the exhibit included a nod to the state’s Coastal Protection and Restoration Authority.

But before we get there, a complicated story unfolds, beginning with a video montage of scenes from the Louisiana coast, including the inevitable alligators, pelicans and shrimp boats.

Along the way, children and adults will encounter literally moving elements, conceptualized by exhibit designer Cecilia Moscardó. Originally from Spain, Moscardó said she can think of it as a foreigner unfamiliar with the Louisiana coast would, an important consideration given that many of the collection’s visitors are tourists.

Her creations include a playful exhibit that allows visitors to trace the life of a crayfish – “like the hero’s journey,” she says.

“Not really on earth”

One of the highlights of the exhibit is the display of a large folio from a rare second edition of John James Audubon’s “The Birds of America,” encased in glass and shielded as much as possible from ultraviolet light to preserve it, notes chief preparator Joseph Shores. The oversized pages are turned from time to time to feature a different bird, a process that requires two people to do carefully.

There are also a few coastal curiosities, including one of those bowling-ball-sized pine needle mounds created by the winds of Hurricane Camille in 1969 and a nutria cookbook from 1963.

Toward the end, ducks make their appearance. These wood-carved ducks, some of them extraordinarily lifelike, originally had a practical function as decoys for hunters in the Louisiana wetlands. The decoys today are usually cheap plastic models, but the craft tradition continues, largely for artistic reasons.

The ducks on display date back to 1925, and while duck hunting may not seem directly related to coastal issues, the connection is strong. Ducks have always been drawn to south Louisiana because of the state’s vast wetland habitat, which has been disappearing for decades.

The final section of the exhibit discusses projections of extreme land loss in the near future and the history of hurricanes that have ravaged the coast. But it also seeks to end on a positive note, highlighting the contributions of various organizations, including the state’s CPRA, to saving what can be saved.

“We wanted to talk about issues like climate change and coastal land loss, and bring them into the conversation because coastal communities are unfortunately disappearing,” Wiese said. “We felt like that was an integral part of the story.”

One visitor to the exhibit recently said it helps explain why so much attention is paid to land loss in Louisiana.

“We’re not really on land,” said Regie Eastman, 57, who was visiting from Scottsdale, Ariz. “We’re on river sediment, which is scary and I think explains the concern about land.”