Brandan “BMike” Odums is one of New Orleans’ most recognized visual artists and culture bearers of the last decade. His works, reflecting both historical figures and that of New Orleans post Hurricane Katrina, are iconic symbols of activism and community. Additionally, Odums is adamant on giving back to the city that gave him so much by continuing mentorship and helping those young artist artists much like himself with his philanthropy Eternal Seeds. While Odums has collaborated with many brands over the years, this Carnival season he’s partnering with Raising Cane‘s on their Mardi Gras 2026 campaign highlighting a visual representation of the flamboyant season in New Orleans.
You started out in filmmaking before visual art. What was the transition from video and filmmaking to now being known for painting murals of local and historical figures?
I was doing a lot of music videos in New Orleans. This was about eight years after Hurricane Katrina, and it was at a time when technology shifted. DSLR made independent filmmaking a lot more accessible. You didn’t really need a big production. I found myself trying to find interesting locations for backdrops of music videos and ended up always in these abandoned Katrina-damaged spaces throughout New Orleans in the East, the 9th Ward, on the West Bank. The more I would navigate and try to find these interesting spaces, the more I would constantly confront all these amazing graffiti and street art pieces deep in the middle of these spaces. It was impactful in a way. Here I was in the middle of these amazing derelict buildings and seeing these really striking, bold paintings, and it just made me want to try it myself. I started going back in these spaces, not with my camera but with a bag of spray paint. I had no idea that I would fall such in love with the process, but also that it would snowball into a series of projects that people would pay attention to.
You once said about Studio Be — your 36,000 sq ft gallery space in the Bywater — that it attracts people that don’t normally consume art. What do you think it is that attracts people?
I think it’s unassuming in a way. It’s a warehouse that is not hiding its flaws, it’s not prestigious. I think some art institutions or galleries or museums you go into, it sort of forces you to alter yourself. Without even thinking about it, you walk differently, you’re talking quiet. I’m always conscious of how does a space sort of dictate that to you, there’s no rules on the wall that says keep quiet, but everyone just assumes that the way you behave in those spaces is, you sort of adjust yourself. And what I love about Studio Be is that whether it’s the unassuming nature of it, whether it’s the flawed aspect of this old warehouse and the history it presents, people kind of treat it more like a living space. They treat it more like a space where they can call out to their friend 20 feet down and not be ashamed of being louder. I do think there is a level of like, unassuming aspect of the space that does call people who aren’t the typical art, enthusiasts, and I love that there is a level of living aspect of this space or people would come up to me and ask me questions about who else should be on the walls or what else should be included.
Why is mentoring and giving back to younger artists so important to you?
One of the most beautiful things about New Orleans to me is that there’s always this organic apprenticeship aspect of the arts community. I grew up with. I went to NOCCA, so a lot of my peers, especially the musician friends, they all were working with elder musicians, having opportunities to gig with them and perform with them at a young age. The way we could do art in New Orleans is always about passing it on. Whether you’re in the kitchen with your grandmother, whether you’re on the stage with a musician, it’s always like, “OK, you want to do this? Well, let me show you, let me put you in a position.” I grew up around that. I grew up benefiting from that. There are people in my life when I was young who saw potential in me and poured into me or challenged me. That was always a part of the journey for me, where every step of the way I was either challenged to come teach this workshop or come to the school and talk to the kids. It was always a part of the process and it just continued to formalize. One of the benefits of having the space Studio Be is that we were able to further formalize that process and continue to invest. For example, we’ve been a summer program for the last 14 or 15 years and it’s slowly changed in its nature in terms of being more and more serious. Creating Eternal Seeds five years ago now, it was a way for us to do it with the most serious intention possible to really formalize it, to create a program where now we’re working with at any given time up to 40 young folks that are in high school, and then continuing to work with them even after they graduate. To the point where we have this full robust, programming in the space that’s all about how do we give the necessary tools to young and emerging artists, and to me that’s one of the most exciting parts of the practice right now.
How did your partnership with Raising Cane’s Mardi Gras promotion come about?
New Orleans is a beautiful small town. There’s been a few moments in the past where there’s been some conversations with the Cane’s team about some other projects and some things that didn’t work out in the past that, you know, but it did for a familiarity. My whole conversation is always like, what can I do that’s beneficial? What can I do that really is something that could be dynamic or exciting. I think it’s always just about like how to, I think as an artist from New Orleans, I’m conscious of. The subtle ways that New Orleans shows up in my work. There are many great artists in New Orleans that New Orleans is the star of their work. New Orleans is the main attraction to the things they create. And for me as an artist, I don’t know if that’s always the case. I think the fact that I’m from New Orleans, the fact that I create in New Orleans is such a huge part of my process, but it doesn’t show up as often in the work itself. One of the challenges for me was thinking, OK, can I authentically show New Orleans in my art without it. Being something different from what I would normally do. And so we found a medium, a mid-ground that I think really, really, really served that purpose.
