"rekindlilng The Spirit"

INTRODUCTION: Few artists have successfully combined the power of poetry with the magical Tire of rock and roll in the same way as has writer/singer/guitarist/poetess Patti Smith. From her New Jersey working class origins, Smith became involved in the Manhattan Ioft poetry scene of the late 1960s where she gave readings and was published both as a poet and a rock and roll critic.

It was there that she met fellow critic and guitarist Lenny Kaye. The duo performed at various New York City coffee houses, bars, and art galleries, mixing Patti Smith's performance-artist-style readings with Kaye's garage band guitar feedback. The collaborations led to a 45-single: "Piss Factor" b/w "Hey Joe" (1974), the former of which documented Smith's life as a factory worker who overcame her slavery for an artists life in the big city of New York.

The Smith/Kaye pairing evolved into a full rock and roll band and their 1975 debut album, "Horses," was a celebration and combination of the garage band/soul of the early Rolling Stones and the Velvet Underground, with the poetic influences of the Beat poets, Rimbaud, and others.

Three albums quickly followed: "Radio Ethiopia" (1976), "Easter" (1978), and "Wave" (1979), which continued to define Patti Smith's unique vision of artist as rock and roller. After her marriage to Detroit guitarist Fred "Sonic" Smith (who as songwriter and musical center of the legendary MC5, and later, Sonic's Rendezvous Band defined ' working class, political rock in the late '60s/early '70s), the couple dropped from public view to raise their two children.

Since Patti Smith's 1988 re-emergence on the recording "Dream of Life"- which was co-written and produced by the Smiths - little has been heard, at least publicly, from the artist.

In 1994, Patti Smith published "Early Work 1970-1979," a collection of prose and poems from that decade. This added to her string of books which include: "Seventh Heaven" (1972), "Witt" (1973), "Babel" (1979), and "Wool Gathering" (1992).

Patti Smith's appearance with Allen Ginsberg marks the artist's first public performance in Ann Arbor for many years. In conjunction with the Hill Auditorium date, AGENDA spoke with Ms. Smith about her art, Ann Arbor, her family and her life.

AGENDA: What can we expect from your Hill Auditorium performance? Smith: Essentially it will be Mr. Ginsberg's evening. He did invite me to be a guest so I think I'll be reading for about half an hour or so, but he'll be beginning and ending the evening. I'm not certain what material I'll be doing, but I'll be reading by myself. I do have one poem that I wrote a couple months ago specifically honoring the Dalai Lama, so I thought I'd read that. And I'll probably read things that have been written in the last couple of years. I might do a couple of old pieces that people really seem to like, but my focus will be on pieces that have the most positive themes.

I think that it is important, when you have things in your life that are sorrowful or tragic and people know of it, to remind ourselves that there are many good things in life; that it's really alright to celebrate and also feel as good and positive as you can simultaneously with feeling sorrow.

AGENDA: I know a lot of people are looking forward to hearing you read. Many people have told me how they were affected by your work in the '70s. The phrase I heard most was that your work "changed their lives." I'm wondering if you realize the kind of impact you've had on people over the years? Smith: Truthfully, in some ways, I'm really not aware of it but I will say that when I hear that, it's really a source of pride. I don't even know if pride is the right word- maybe joy. It's really a personal thing. When Lenny and I first started, and when I embarked on my work with the band, it was never our intent to seek financial or personal gain. Our prime motivation was to rekindle the spirit that we had benefitted from while growing up . I saw rock and roll from its beginnings. I'm old enough to remember when Little Richard first carne out. And I saw, from my childhood and throughout my life, the whole evolution of rock and roll.

I felt in the early '70s that rock and roll had really taken some kind of plunge. I worried that it would all disappear, that it would end. That might seem funny now, but at the time I was thinking of my parents and how my mother loved Benny Goodman. She used to talk about Artie Shaw and all these people she thought were so hip. She loved the big bands and when she was a young girl she thought that scene would last forever. She just figured her jazz would go on and on but it was pretty much wiped out by what followed. I used to think about that and imagine something was going to happen and take away our music.

So really all that we were trying to do was to rekindle people's spirit and to motivate other people or new people to keep going. We really looked at it as our prime mission, so when people say things like that it really does make me feel good. It makes me feel like we did what we set out to do.

Another part of our mission was to remind people that they held a lot of power (and this of course before Fred wrote "People Have the Power.") We wanted people to realize that they had the power to do this themselves - that rock and roll and poetry were people's art. Rock and roll especially was a street art. People didn't have to rely on heroes or high-profile people or on anyone outside themselves. They didn't need me and they didn't need whoever. We used to tell people: "Next time we're in town don't even come to see us: Be at another club playing yourself."

When I saw people performing poetry in the late '60s and early 70s it was the same thing. I really thought it was a bore. I thought they were killing poetry so I just started doing things to fire up other people. I didn't really expect longevity for myself. I had a lot of bravado but I didn't particularly think that I was much of a singer, or even at that time, much of a writer. But I had a lot of energy and I liked to incite people to read poetry, to shout poetry, to write poetry, or to pick up a guitar themselves. I wanted to remind people that if they had the desire and they had the vision, they could do it.

When I started out I didn't have any money. I didn't know anybody. There weren't any places to play. Lenny and I often played in book stores. We went to California, San Francisco, Philadelphia and played in book stores! Sometimes I'd go by myself and play in a bar as an opening act, spending most of the time arguing with people in the bar why I had a right to be on that stage.

I guess the other thing is that I knew what it felt like all my life to feel sort of alien, to feel like a Steppenwolf, or to feel out of step or out of time. And I also felt that somehow I wanted to address people who were the aliens and the wallflowers and remind them that they weren't alone, that somebody was there talking to them and spurring them on and feeling some of the things they might feel.

AGENDA: You talked about how energy and alienation and bravado helped carry the day, but when I look at your poetry and song lyrics I see structured, sometimes metered verse. I'm just wondering how much of it is work for you. How hard do you work at your writing? Smith: I usually work really hard but every once in a while there's a piece that will just come out. I always wanted to write, my whole life. When I was seven years old, I read "Little Women" and back then, in the '50s. there weren't a whole lot of role models for a young girl. I really liked Jo, just like almost all girls did. She was a writer and I used to dream about becoming a writer. I wrote all of my life but never really considered that I had a natural ability for it because I had to work so hard. I spent most of the '80s working on my writing, studying and writing every day for hours. And so I did learn. I did become more facile.

And the other way I write and perform is to improvise a lot. Some things are pretty much improvised and that's a whole different style of writing. For instance, when we did "Piss Factory" we had some structure but I improvised in the studio. "Birdland," which was on "Horses," came from improvising on stage.

AGENDA: Did you have any theater experience before you started performing poetry? Smith: I was in plays in high school and in college and actually had some pretty good roles. And I wrote and formed a play with Sam Shepherd in 1971 in New York. It was called "Cowboy Mouth." Sam and I wrote it one night together and then we performed it. And I did several plays Off Off Off Broadway. I have always feit constricted in plays though I've always felt very comfortable on stage. The only fear that I really had was when I was in plays because I'm not real good at remembering lines. Even singing with the band, I often had to rewrite songs as I was singing them. 

AGENDA: You said you spent a lot of time writing in the '80s. What have you been doing lately? Smith: My main duty, of course, is being a mother. In the arts, I actually consider writing my main duty. In 1992 I published "Wool Gathering" with Hanuman, a New York press that does small-sized books. They do a lot of Beat writers, Kerouac and Burroughs and such. And in 1994 W.W. Norton published an anthology of my work from the 70s ("EarlyWork 1970-79"]. I also have a couple of book projects coming up with them.

AGENDA: As a writer, how do you view your role in society? Smith: When I was younger I didn't think too much of society as a whole except perhaps as something to loosen from. At this point in my life, I don't have those same preoccupations, mostly because when I was younger I feit no responsibility to anyone, to no particular individual nor to society as a whole. At this time of my life I have a lot of responsibility, first to my children and my other family members. And I feel a lot more compassionate about society as a whole. I suppose that comes from being a mother. I view society differently. Even abstractly I view it differently. But I still don't write for society and I don't write to change things and I don't consider myself really politically motivated in those ways. I just try to do good work. And I feel that if one's work is good it will have its own transforming powers.

When I was younger my work was probably motivated toward exploding things and taking precepts and breaking them apart, but I think at this time of my life I'm more interested in tying things together.

AGENDA: From 1975 to 1979you recorded four albums and performed extensively, and then didn't cut another record until 1988. What originally motivated you to drop out of the performing scene and what have you been doing? Smith: Basically the most important thing at that time was my life with Fred. I was able to continue to develop as an artist and we both were on our own terms together. That's what I devoted my time to - my life with Fred and our children and in really developing as a human being, as a wife and mother and as an artist.

I feel that my time with the band was wonderful and I love my band members. We didn't have a decline like some bands do. We didn't decline as friends. We didn't decline musically or spiritually. We really parted when we were "on the top of our game'" as people would say. But I also feel that we accomplished what we set out to do. If we would have kept going we certainly would have achieved other things such as fame and fortune and we didn't really get to that point where we achieved those two things.

As Fred was fond of quoting General Patton, who was quoting Alexander the Great {or some ancient Greek) : "All fame is fleeting. " And so it is. Fame is fleeting. So to let go of it was something I did without regret. As far as the work that I did with the band, I believe we accomplished our mission and that mission was to inspire others. And apparently the work that we did is still inspiring others so we more than accomplished our mission. But my mission in life, from the time that I was privileged to be with Fred, was my life with him, and to continue to develop as an artist- and those things I did.

AGENDA: You've been living in the Detroit area for some time now. What are your impressions of life in the Motor City? Smith: I have led an active life here and I'm involved in certain things but basically I'm from the East Coast and I'll always be an East Coast person. I think the important thing is that people create their own cities. If the Detroit area is to recapture any of the grandeur that it tasted in the '6Os - not that they'd want to go back in time, but if they want to rekindle some of that spirit - it's up to the people. It's always up to the people to support each other and not be jealous or afraid that one will do better than the other.

I think that Detroit has to find its reasons to be proud not only of its heritage but of things in the present. But it's not my particular fight. Even when I was in New York City in the real early '70s, it seemed like there wasn't anything happening at all and we had to make things happen. I know it's perhaps easier in a place like New York where you have a lot of media and things like that, but you still have to make it happen. And it's the people who make it happen.

As for myself, I just feel like as a citizen here I try to do my best not to insinuate myself in other people's scenes because I know that in my time, when I was younger, I had influence and power over the scene that I helped to create. But as new scenes erupt I think that people like myself should keep away from them, so as not to disturb the prime directive of that scene. I guess I pretty much feel like a contented outsider who sends well wishes.

AGENDA: For a period in the late 70s you were almost the house band at the Second Chance. I wonder if you have any stories or memories you want to share with us about Ann Arbor from those days. Smith: Basically I was there by the good graces of Fred. Fred brought us to Ann Arbor and John Carver always opened the Second Chance to us and I can only say they were extremely happy days. It was always a joy for me because I'd get to see Sonic's Rendezvous and I'd get to spend some time with Fred. Fred loved Ann Arbor. He really did. He had very happy memories there. He had his favorite haunts - the Del Rio and the Old Town. So essentially I was enjoying being on some of Freds' turf. Even though he considered himself Detroit-bred, he had an extreme fondness for Ann Arbor and that's pretty much what it meant to me. Also the Second Chance was afine club with really great sound. I have a lot of happy memories there.

AGENDA: I have a question about a night I saw you perform at the Second Chance. Before you played "Because the Night Belongs to Lovers," you said This next song is going to buy me a new car!" Did you buy a new car? Smith: What I probably said was "This next song is going to buy my father a new car" because I don't drive. I still haven't leamed to drive. But we did achieve a certain amount of success with that song so I was able to buy my father a which was a great dream of mine. I wasn't there but my brother told me how he went and got the car and brought it to my father. He just parked it in front of the house and went in and handed my dad the keys. My dad wasn't certain what was going on and he went outside and there was the car and he just sat on the step and stared at it. It made us all really happy. And he still has it, a 1978 black Córdoba. And it's still beautiful, in almost perfect condition.

In terms of financial reward, that was really my dream from the beginning. I remember Dave Marsh asking me when we first started, I think right before we recorded "Horses," what the ultimate thing was that I could achieve and I said I want to buy my dad a car. And I finally did do it.

AGENDA: What do you dream of now? What is "the ultimate thing" for you now? Smith: I don't know. Fred and I had certain plans for the future. We were going to record this summer. Of course I won't be able to do things the way that we would have, because you know in "Dream of Life" Fred pretty much did everything. He wrote all of the music. He played every guitar for it. He wrote a lot of the other parts. He arranged everything. "Dream of Life" was, I sometimes think, more Fred's record than mine. I really wanted his name on it as well but he didn't want it like that. He said perhaps we could have both of our names on this next record, so I was looking forward to that. Instead of recording with Fred, I'll have to record in honor of him.

The most important thing is to continue with the dreams Fred and I had for our children. And for myself, I just want to continue to do the best work I can, to continue writing. I don't think anyone who works doesn't hope they'll  create some masterpiece or some piece of work that will endure, or be worth enduring, and if one asked what my personal dream was, other than for our children, that would be it, to do a piece of work that was worthy of enduring. I think I'll always pursue that. It's important for artists never to feel like they've done their great work or they just stop working. I've always wanted to do things, no matter what form they took or how controversial they were. The idea was to give somebody, somewhere, hope. I think as I get older the idea is to be able to do work that gives many people hope or to create more expansive territory for people.

AGENDA: Is there anything more you want to share? Smith: I know that people are aware that our family has suffered losses. I lost Fred and I lost my brother in a month's time. And before that, in the last couple of years, I lost Richard Sohl, my piano player from the band who I really adored. He was only 37. And before that I lost my closest friend, Robert Mapplethorpe, who was really a fine artist.

The only reason I mention this is I think that it's important for people to remember that no matter how difficult a challenge life is.no matter what happens around us, or to our loved ones or whatever difficult tasks we have to face, life is the best thing we have. The opportunity to be on the planet even for a short period of time, the opportunity to love and be loved, the opportunity to create something that inspires others or do something that affects other people, the opportunity just to breathe, just to experience the ocean or nature or other human beings is worth it.

I guess I'm thinking especially of young people. When I look at young people these days, they seem to be suffering more than ever. I mean, young people always suffer. We all suffer. But I remember being a teenager, a young person, you suffer so many things. Maybe it seems exaggerated but it seems young people today are suffering even more than ever. They have more pressures. They're aware of more things. They don't seem to value life. I hate to make generalizations because I am sure certain young people will read this and say That doesn't apply to me." Nothing applies to everybody. I just feel no matter how much pain you're condemned to at any particular time, if you're patient and if you're willing to go through all the stages of it, you'D come out alright. The human spirit is extremely resilient.