Pableaux was known to “get around”, as they say. One of his many intersecting circles was the New Orleans community of architects, where I met him. With his sharp wit, creative intellect, and love of food, music and design, he fit easily with that crowd. He was an intrepid explorer of the urban condition, and that curious spirit shows up in his photography and writing.

NOLA is notoriously not an early morning town, so those of us who are early-risers tend to find the familiar faces. I used to see Pableaux before seven almost every morning at Cherry Coffee on Laurel, where he began his day on the phone or computer with his East Coast network, taking advantage of the time difference. He enjoyed people and interaction, but he would rarely talk about himself and downplayed his accomplishments, always redirecting our conversations back to my interests. 

Every place has its colorful characters, but unique to New Orleans, the characters can be simultaneously larger than life and under the radar. That was Pableaux.

What a shame and what a terrible loss for New Orleans and for all of Pableaux's friends and family.

I got to know Pableaux at Cherry Coffee where a morning chat became a ritual.  It won't be the same without him. But that is also true for New Orleans altogether. He was a unique, truly remarkable and wonderful man who will be greatly missed.

RIP

Pableaux told me that one of the things he loved about New Orleans was that it was a "human-scale" city—large enough to contain multitudes but not so large that it felt anonymous, indifferent, callous. I realize now that I know nobody who has done more to humanize New Orleans than Pableaux: through his photography, his friendship, his hospitality, and his boundless, even astounding generosity to anyone lucky enough to cross his path. He did not just chronicle the city's spirit. He embodied it. He lived it.

We will forever cherish the photographs he made of our family.

I’ve known Pableaux since his high school years here in New Iberia, LA. He and my husband hung out at a local guitar shop and  had a grand time working on them, playing, trading guitars & just being musicians. 

My husband, Mike, is the Mike in his story about learning how to make gumbo. Many a Sunday afternoon was spent in our kitchen discussing the intricacies of gumbo & music. Another piece of Mike is gone from my heart. Oh how you were loved & will be missed, Pableaux.