Richie Havens: Woodstock and Beyond
My All-Time Favorite Interviews by Mike Starling | for the La Crosse Tribune, August 27, 1998
"I'm not in show business and never was. I'm in the communications business."
Those are the words of Richie Havens, headline act at this weekend's Great River Folk Festival. The 57-year-old singer-guitarist is best-known for his now-legendary marathon opening set at Woodstock and his unique interpretations of others' music, such as Bob Dylan's "Just Like a Woman" and George Harrison's "Here Comes the Sun," which was a Top 20 hit for Havens in 1971.
But Havens is much more than that. The eldest of eight siblings, he grew up in the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York, where he sang in doo-wop and gospel groups. He moved to Greenwich Village in his late teens to become a portrait artist, and, later, a solo music act.
By his own reckoning, Havens has played at just about every kind of festival and club possible, not to mention presidential inaugurations, and has circled the globe 28 times in doing so. He has also acted (credits include the movies Greased Lightning, Catch My Soul and Hearts of Fire, and the original London stage production of the rock opera Tommy), sculpted, made Clio Ward-winning commercials and helped start youth-oriented ecological education projects like the North Wind Undersea Institute and the Natural Guard.
And while he's still inspired by the spirit of the '60s in which he grew up, he's certainly not lost in the past. His favorite band these days, he says, is Rage Against the Machine.
I got a chance to interview Havens prior to his appearance at the Great River Folk Festival. Below are some excerpts:
Those are the words of Richie Havens, headline act at this weekend's Great River Folk Festival. The 57-year-old singer-guitarist is best-known for his now-legendary marathon opening set at Woodstock and his unique interpretations of others' music, such as Bob Dylan's "Just Like a Woman" and George Harrison's "Here Comes the Sun," which was a Top 20 hit for Havens in 1971.
But Havens is much more than that. The eldest of eight siblings, he grew up in the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York, where he sang in doo-wop and gospel groups. He moved to Greenwich Village in his late teens to become a portrait artist, and, later, a solo music act.
By his own reckoning, Havens has played at just about every kind of festival and club possible, not to mention presidential inaugurations, and has circled the globe 28 times in doing so. He has also acted (credits include the movies Greased Lightning, Catch My Soul and Hearts of Fire, and the original London stage production of the rock opera Tommy), sculpted, made Clio Ward-winning commercials and helped start youth-oriented ecological education projects like the North Wind Undersea Institute and the Natural Guard.
And while he's still inspired by the spirit of the '60s in which he grew up, he's certainly not lost in the past. His favorite band these days, he says, is Rage Against the Machine.
I got a chance to interview Havens prior to his appearance at the Great River Folk Festival. Below are some excerpts:
What was it like working and living in Greenwich Village in the 1960s?
Oh, it was fantastic. The wonderful thing was that we were able to run from coffeehouse to coffeehouse and do 14 sets a night and pass the basket that many times and actually make a living. That was the beauty of it. All of the comedians that are on TV today, like the Lenos and the Brenners and the Rodney Dangerfields and Joan Rivers, were in the same coffeehouse I started out in. Richard Pryor, Bill Cosby, you name it. So I got to see all their first days on stage. It was incredible to watch that development. And then all of the singers, from David Crosby as a solo performer, Stephen Stills, Tom Rush, Phil Ochs, Bob Dylan, Odetta, Judy Collins, Dave Von Ronk, John Hammond Jr., Shawn Phillips, even Joni Mitchell played down there before she actually made a record.
A special point in time?
Yes. Absolutely a special point in time.
You sang in doo-wop and gospel groups, but what other musical influences did you have?
I think for me it was more the creative thing of writing the songs. We actually sang a lot that was on the radio, but we did concentrate in those days on writing our own songs and that, to me, was the real revolution that no one talks about. It was a social revolution, rock 'n' roll, not just a commercial one, because young people were writing about their lives at the time. For the first time in the history of music, an entire generation had an outlet to write about their lives at the time. And to me, that was one of the greatest social events that ever happened in the United States.
Do you still write a lot?
I write now only when it comes. You know, in those days I could write 20 songs a day because it was, 'I love you and the sky is blue,' you know? (laughs) Or, 'Don't leave me girl.' Which is no different than today, really.
Did you ever plan to do what you're doing now?
Singing with other people was what I was so used to. I never in my life thought I'd be on a stage by myself, ever.
That was probably scary the first time out.
Oh, it was terribly scary! (laughs) But it was so much fun I couldn't stop doing it, and the songs meant so much to me that I couldn't stop singing 'em.
You've played so many interesting places in the last 30 years. Is there a certain moment, certain show that stands out?
To this day, the very first time I stood in front of a lot of people is still the most prevalent in my mind as the real beginning for me. That was at the Newport Folk Festival in '66. There were, I think, 19,000 people. Scared the hell out of me. Then having sung at Woodstock and then going straight to England to sing at the Isle of Wight, singing in two concerts to over a million and a half people. That was probably the biggest distinction of all.
At the time, did you realize the historical significance of those events?
Well, I certainly did. My whole take on Woodstock when I flew over those people, the first thing that came to my mind was, "They can't hide us now. We are not underground anymore. And if they show one picture of this in the newspapers, we will all be vindicated and un-radicalized together." That's what I saw, and that's why (the improvised song) "Freedom" came out of my mouth, because I was actually feeling the freedom we had all been talking about for 10 years together.
Oh, it was fantastic. The wonderful thing was that we were able to run from coffeehouse to coffeehouse and do 14 sets a night and pass the basket that many times and actually make a living. That was the beauty of it. All of the comedians that are on TV today, like the Lenos and the Brenners and the Rodney Dangerfields and Joan Rivers, were in the same coffeehouse I started out in. Richard Pryor, Bill Cosby, you name it. So I got to see all their first days on stage. It was incredible to watch that development. And then all of the singers, from David Crosby as a solo performer, Stephen Stills, Tom Rush, Phil Ochs, Bob Dylan, Odetta, Judy Collins, Dave Von Ronk, John Hammond Jr., Shawn Phillips, even Joni Mitchell played down there before she actually made a record.
A special point in time?
Yes. Absolutely a special point in time.
You sang in doo-wop and gospel groups, but what other musical influences did you have?
I think for me it was more the creative thing of writing the songs. We actually sang a lot that was on the radio, but we did concentrate in those days on writing our own songs and that, to me, was the real revolution that no one talks about. It was a social revolution, rock 'n' roll, not just a commercial one, because young people were writing about their lives at the time. For the first time in the history of music, an entire generation had an outlet to write about their lives at the time. And to me, that was one of the greatest social events that ever happened in the United States.
Do you still write a lot?
I write now only when it comes. You know, in those days I could write 20 songs a day because it was, 'I love you and the sky is blue,' you know? (laughs) Or, 'Don't leave me girl.' Which is no different than today, really.
Did you ever plan to do what you're doing now?
Singing with other people was what I was so used to. I never in my life thought I'd be on a stage by myself, ever.
That was probably scary the first time out.
Oh, it was terribly scary! (laughs) But it was so much fun I couldn't stop doing it, and the songs meant so much to me that I couldn't stop singing 'em.
You've played so many interesting places in the last 30 years. Is there a certain moment, certain show that stands out?
To this day, the very first time I stood in front of a lot of people is still the most prevalent in my mind as the real beginning for me. That was at the Newport Folk Festival in '66. There were, I think, 19,000 people. Scared the hell out of me. Then having sung at Woodstock and then going straight to England to sing at the Isle of Wight, singing in two concerts to over a million and a half people. That was probably the biggest distinction of all.
At the time, did you realize the historical significance of those events?
Well, I certainly did. My whole take on Woodstock when I flew over those people, the first thing that came to my mind was, "They can't hide us now. We are not underground anymore. And if they show one picture of this in the newspapers, we will all be vindicated and un-radicalized together." That's what I saw, and that's why (the improvised song) "Freedom" came out of my mouth, because I was actually feeling the freedom we had all been talking about for 10 years together.
Are there misconceptions about Woodstock?
Yes. It was in Bethel, not Woodstock, and "Woodstock" was only the name of the movie. The event was called "An Aquarian Arts, Crafts and Music Festival." Unfortunately, when you go to see the movie, you think that's what it was. And unfortunately, they show three hours of 300 hours of film, so you don't get to know that a third of the audience was over 50 years old. You don't get to know that a third of the audience was under 17 and that it was a family affair and it had nothing to do with the music on the stage. That 12 percent, if that, of the people who played, were actually known by the audience.
With such a colorful past, what do you do to keep inspired now?
Well, you know, the world that I sing to. People who understood, outside of this country especially, what Woodstock really was, from the beginning. A big change for us in this country and actually a stepping stone for the rest of the world's youth, and that carries on today. I did a concert in Germany, 40,000 hippies. It was called the Festival of the Hippie. And I gotta tell you, it was exactly like 1969, and a third of them had long gray hair, and the rest all the way to 14. That's the world that I live in today and that's everywhere. I have had to talk about Woodstock every day since it happened, without fail, and I have had to sing "Freedom" at every concert or they'll kill me (laughs).
Does that bother you?
Oh, absolutely not. It was one of the most major changes in the history of this country and the world, and I find that out every day.
Do you still play a lot of festivals?
I certainly do, all over the world. The festival is in fact our common ground. It's the place where families come, it's a place where people come from all over to get together, and it's a place where we celebrate the real commonness of us, you know? That's the purpose, I think, of festivals.
Have they changed much over the years?
Not at all. Not at all. They still have aa good feeling about them, and they still offer many people the opportunity to come together in the same family.
How about the music business? Has that changed since you've been in it?
Well, the music business gets easier and it gets harder, you know? It goes in cycles. I think the music business is suffering from the fact that it does not, still, go out and find real talent. That it waits for tapes, or for someone they know to bring somebody to them. And that's a problem with a lot of young people that really have something to say, just the same way it was for me in those days. But I think so many more of us have something to say and are getting to say it, that these days we think that nothing's happening. It's so commonplace that the message is in every genre of music, when in my day it was only in ours. Most people in my generation say, "Nothing's going on in music." They're wrong. The same thing that went on for us is going on for everyone now. And that's why it's a little bit obscured for us, because then we were the only ones doing it.
Yes. It was in Bethel, not Woodstock, and "Woodstock" was only the name of the movie. The event was called "An Aquarian Arts, Crafts and Music Festival." Unfortunately, when you go to see the movie, you think that's what it was. And unfortunately, they show three hours of 300 hours of film, so you don't get to know that a third of the audience was over 50 years old. You don't get to know that a third of the audience was under 17 and that it was a family affair and it had nothing to do with the music on the stage. That 12 percent, if that, of the people who played, were actually known by the audience.
With such a colorful past, what do you do to keep inspired now?
Well, you know, the world that I sing to. People who understood, outside of this country especially, what Woodstock really was, from the beginning. A big change for us in this country and actually a stepping stone for the rest of the world's youth, and that carries on today. I did a concert in Germany, 40,000 hippies. It was called the Festival of the Hippie. And I gotta tell you, it was exactly like 1969, and a third of them had long gray hair, and the rest all the way to 14. That's the world that I live in today and that's everywhere. I have had to talk about Woodstock every day since it happened, without fail, and I have had to sing "Freedom" at every concert or they'll kill me (laughs).
Does that bother you?
Oh, absolutely not. It was one of the most major changes in the history of this country and the world, and I find that out every day.
Do you still play a lot of festivals?
I certainly do, all over the world. The festival is in fact our common ground. It's the place where families come, it's a place where people come from all over to get together, and it's a place where we celebrate the real commonness of us, you know? That's the purpose, I think, of festivals.
Have they changed much over the years?
Not at all. Not at all. They still have aa good feeling about them, and they still offer many people the opportunity to come together in the same family.
How about the music business? Has that changed since you've been in it?
Well, the music business gets easier and it gets harder, you know? It goes in cycles. I think the music business is suffering from the fact that it does not, still, go out and find real talent. That it waits for tapes, or for someone they know to bring somebody to them. And that's a problem with a lot of young people that really have something to say, just the same way it was for me in those days. But I think so many more of us have something to say and are getting to say it, that these days we think that nothing's happening. It's so commonplace that the message is in every genre of music, when in my day it was only in ours. Most people in my generation say, "Nothing's going on in music." They're wrong. The same thing that went on for us is going on for everyone now. And that's why it's a little bit obscured for us, because then we were the only ones doing it.
Mike Starling's original music is heard on numerous recordings and soundtracks, and his stories and photos have been featured in books, films, mags and other media.
starlingarchive.weebly.com is the authorized website for samples of published work by the Wisconsin-based writer, artist and musician Mike Starling. Photo of Starling on assignment in Ireland by J. Winke. Photo of Richie Havens performing in October 1973 by Eluhim/Wlliams Morris Agency. and is in the public domain. Website developed and managed by Nine Volt Media. ©MMXX-MMXXIII. All rights reserved.