Abundant but not always accessible

Revels come in many guises during the season of merriment that begins on feast of the Epiphany (Jan. 6) — the twelfth day of Christmas, the day the gift-bearing wise men visited the Christ child — and culminates on Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday). They range from exclusive society balls to post-parade “extravaganzas” with thousands of attendees and big-name entertainment; from barroom “throw-downs” to just about any gathering during the Carnival season with familiar ingredients: a theme, costuming/fancy dressing and pretend monarchs presiding over “royal” courts, along with music, drinking, dancing and king cake. And, of course, beads and other festive paraphernalia. (In local parlance, “throw down” is both a noun and a verb: i.e., an occasion where people throw down, that is, cut loose, frolic and make merry.)

High-society balls involve rituals and protocols that hark back Europe’s pre-Enlightenment, tradition-bound ancien régime. Toward the end of the 19th century, members of elite Carnival organizations — seeking to evoke a world of romance and chivalry as a tonic for the social and political upheaval of Reconstruction — began acting out aristocratic fantasies by carrying on in the style of the royal courts and palaces of Old Europe. They staged parades that ended in theaters and ballrooms, where krewe members would present a series of tableaux based on the theme of their parades. Tableau balls, including those staged by non-parading organizations, came to be known as “Carnival Balls,” where debutante queens and maids were presented. While these thematic revivals of monarchic rule still serve as affirmations of the city’s social register, at least for so-called “old-line” krewes, virtually all krewes retain some elements of the traditional rituals, although in widely varying degrees of formality.

The krewe balls chronicled in the society pages ofThe Times-Picayune | New Orleans Advocate are typically private affairs for krewe members and their invited, formally attired guests. There is no such thing as a “ticket,” and even if you’re acquainted with a member, asking to be invited would be a faux pas.

In bygone days, invitation committees of prestigious krewes would exercise scrupulous due diligence when considering the worthiness of prospective invitees submitted by members. Now, the process is more relaxed. If you’re a friend, neighbor or professional associate of a member who includes you on his or her guest list, the krewe will extend an invitation.

Invited guests shouldn’t expect to join in a glittering court promenade as if it were a conga line at a wedding. At traditional krewe balls featuring the presentation of the royal court, guests tend to be merely observers. Only after the court tableau and a series of dances reserved for krewe members and their chosen partners do the festivities open up to general dancing.

Cuttin’ loose at the 2002 Krewe of Muses post-parade party

At Mardi Gras krewe celebrations, the dress code and style of revelry tends to reflect the ethos of the krewe itself.

For a glimpse of the pomp and pageantry of society Mardi Gras, tune into WYES-TV/Channel 12 on Mardi Gras night, at 7 p.m., for the Meeting of the Courts featuring the Rex Organization and the Mistick Krewe of Comus. (Rebroadcast at 11:30 p.m. Streaming options.) In the evening’s finale, in a blaze of glittering rhinestones and brilliants, the krewes’ monarchs escort each other’s queens in a grand march around the ballroom. In its precise decorum and scripted formality, the spectacle is about as far removed from the free-for-all on Bourbon Street as one could possibly imagine.

While visitors to Mardi Gras won’t likely have the opportunity to attend the likes of a Comus or Rex ball, many soirées are accessible to non-members who know or have a connection to a member. Generally speaking, the style of revelry and dress requirements reflect the heritage and ethos of the organization itself. Some large krewes, such as Orpheus and Endymion, sell admits to their extravaganzas — raucous post-parade parties that take place at the Convention Center and Superdome, respectively. The parades literally roll in from the street as float riders bombard the attendees with beads and other goodies. Attire is typically black tie and floor-length dress, with entertainment by local and national musical acts. There’s table seating, and you can bring your own food and liquor. “Set-ups” may be provided: soft drinks, tonic, soda, cups and ice. It’s best to purchase admits in advance. Admission to the Orpheuscapade is $250 at the door, versus $225 in advance. A table of 10 at the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club’s formal-dress Coronation Ball, always held on the Friday before Mardi Gras, runs $2,500 (admits are not sold individually).

Tickets to larger galas, such as the Orpheuscapade, Endymion Extravaganza, Bacchus Rendezvous and Krewe of Tucks Extravaganza, sometimes turn up on Craig’s List and eBay. (Buyer beware: scammers often sell fake or non-existent concert tickets on Craig’s List.) Also note that some krewes, while not selling admission to their celebrations to the general public, offer a type of membership that entitles one to purchase admission. So-called “non-riding memberships” include benefits not directly associated with riding on a parade float. Typically, non-riding members are invited to all krewe events and pay the same fees to attend those events as riding members pay.