Here's a piece by John Rockwell, someone with a history of personal =
antipathy towards Joni's art. The idea that John Kelly is a better =
singer than Joni, past, present or future, is absurd!
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January 5, 2003
Joni Mitchell's Long and Restless Journey
By JOHN ROCKWELL
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ONI MITCHELL'S new "Travelogue" isn't billed as a farewell, but =
it's hard to see it any other way. Ms. Mitchell is 58, and her =
once-girlish soprano is now a frail and unsteady mezzo. This personally =
(not to say idiosyncratically) chosen, newly arranged collection of 22 =
of her songs from 1966 to 1994 presumably represents some sort of =
retrospective summa.
Of course, it's always dangerous to presume anyone's motivations, =
let alone those of an artist as hermetically private as Ms. Mitchell. =
But in addition to this quasi memorial to herself (Nonesuch, two CD's), =
she has chosen to blast the music industry in a recent interview in =
Rolling Stone, denouncing the business as a cesspool and MTV's =
vulgarity, as she sees it, as "tragic." Having now fled her longtime =
base of Reprise, she didn't flee too far, however, since Nonesuch is =
also part of AOL Time Warner.
As a longtime admirer of Ms. Mitchell - I even lived in her Laurel =
Canyon neighborhood in the early 70's - I must confess that my first =
reaction to this new set was one of horror. Asked recently by WNYC-FM to =
appear on air with some emblematic examples of American music in the =
20th century, I thought of her song "Amelia," which was once my prime =
evidence when I called her a 20th-century American Schubert.
The song appears on Ms. Mitchell's 1976 album "Hejira," which is =
full of songs about flight and wandering and loneliness. "Amelia" is =
Amelia Earhart, the doomed aviatrix. Ms. Mitchell's words tie together =
place and heart and mind, myth and history, womanhood and a lost love. =
She starts by evoking the emptiness of the desert and the sky, six jet =
vapor trails "like the hexagram of the heavens, like the strings of my =
guitar." Her "life becomes a travelogue" - you see how central this one =
song is to this new retrospective travelogue of her life in song.
Suddenly she's missing a lover. She equates herself with Amelia =
and with Icarus, "ascending on beautiful foolish arms."
"I've spent my whole life at icy altitudes," she muses. "And =
looking down on everything/ I crashed into his arms."
Finally she pulls in to a desert motel, showers and sleeps "on the =
strange pillows of my wanderlust," dreaming "of 747's/ Over geometric =
farms."
On the original studio recording, the accompaniment is electric =
guitars and vibraphones, electronically sustaining Ms. Mitchell's own =
inimitable vocals, cool and clipped, and almost pushing this sad, =
intimate, conversational song along to its conclusion. Even better, =
really, is the live version on her album "Shadows and Light" of 1980, =
just as nervously forward-moving but with a guitar backing closer to her =
folkish roots.
The new version, indeed the entire album, comes dressed =
(overdressed) in orchestral /soft-jazz arrangements by Larry Klein. Mr. =
Klein and Ms. Mitchell were married for eight years, and although they =
broke up domestically in 1994, they have continued to collaborate =
professionally, having now completed nine projects together.
Having heard "Amelia" in its new guise, I think I called it an =
abomination on the radio. Now I've listened to the whole album. One must =
make allowances for an artist's right to evolve and for fans' right to =
cling, even unfairly, to what they once loved. And one must concede a =
certain winsome communicativeness in Ms. Mitchell's vocal weaknesses. =
But I still think this set is pretty terrible.
Part of the problem is simple taste. I personally have little use =
for the kind of bloated symphonic jazz heard here. Ms. Mitchell clearly =
does have a taste for it, so much so that she now chops up the urgent =
flow of "Amelia" for soggy orchestral ditherings between the verses.
Any artist must constantly question his or her past =
accomplishments; to repeat oneself risks becoming a hack. In fairness, =
Ms. Mitchell has undertaken a hejira of her own over some 23 albums =
(depending on how you count). From folk to folk rock to jazz (or jazz =
folk), all with her own highly personal inventiveness, and now to this, =
it's been a trip that has alienated fans along the way, throwing them =
off the curves, as it were. But the journey has presumably helped keep =
her fresh.
That said, restless experimentation also suggests a quality of =
unwelcome self-indulgence that has always marked her music and her =
personality. When one confronts the really na=EFve paintings that =
proliferate in the lavish booklet with which these two CD's are packaged =
- let alone the rudimentary "multi-media content" on the one "enhanced =
audio CD" - one has to wonder whether Ms. Mitchell has slid too far into =
her own world. There is usually some kind of healthy link between =
creator and public, or at least imagined public, a link that sustains =
even the most private artists and helps dampen the temptation toward =
vanity projects like "Travelogue."
Her early jazz experiments could be welcomed as the honorable =
efforts of a folk-rock singer to connect with the wider world of =
improvisation in jazz. One fears that this album marks some sort of =
aspiration to "art" in the classical, formalized sense. Nonesuch is, =
after all, AOL Time Warner's prestige label, especially for classical =
music and crossover projects of a certain vanguard sort. But a =
self-conscious aspiration for gentility can kill the essence of the =
idioms that Ms. Mitchell grew up with.
Above, I called her singing inimitable. But of course it isn't, =
quite. Right now, the best live Joni Mitchell is the =
countertenor-falsettist-drag artist John Kelly in his periodic revivals =
of his Joni Mitchell act, fabled in downtown Manhattan. Mr. Kelly sings =
Ms. Mitchell far better than she sings herself now. If you want her =
unadulterated, buy albums like "Ladies of the Canyon," "Blue," "Court =
and Spark" or "Hejira." If you want to see her in person, catch John =
Kelly. =20
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