In 1969, when Joan Baez was 28, she had graced the cover of Time magazine, become the face of the folk music movement and provided protest songs for the anti-war generation. She had already sung with her friend Martin Luther King Jr. before an audience of 250,000 people at the March on Washington about six years earlier.
She told Bustle on Zoom that by then she had become "obsessed with activism." "[Fame] was a struggle. It gave me more scares than I would have experienced [otherwise], but it also gave me an identity."
Baez performed at Woodstock in 1969, when she was six months pregnant with her first and only child, Gabe, but her mood and circumstances that year were brighter than those cheering for the moon landing or People who lived through the Summer of Love were even darker.
From the stage, she gave a shout-out to her then-husband, activist David Harris, who had been jailed weeks earlier for protesting the Vietnam War draft. She herself has been jailed for it. (At Woodstock, she sang "I Shall Be Released" by Bob Dylan, the ex-boyfriend who inspired her music over the years and bothering her).
“[I remember] I had an argument with my father, who was a physicist, about landing humans on the moon,” Baez, now 82, said of that year. "We revolutionaries don't want to hear this. Why should we spend so much money when there's someone at home who needs care? So I don't allow myself to enjoy watching someone land on the moon. That's where I am politically and where I am with my family The place."
These complex family dynamics are the focus of her new documentary , "Joan Baez: I Am the Noise," which will air on Apple TV on November 21.
Baez allowed the filmmakers access to her late mother's storage unit - which she herself had never entered - which contained childhood diaries, home movies and letters from her parents. The latter revealed allegations of childhood sexual abuse by her father and others, which her parents denied. The film even includes audio recordings of her therapy sessions, which she said helped her recover.
The documentary amounts to an exhumation of family secrets, all of which she shared in order to leave a "legacy of honesty." Why so fragile? "It's time," she said. "The truth is, I have nothing to lose now."
Below, the Rock and Roll Hall of Famer talks being single forever, a new poem, and whether she thinks about Dylan.
You performed at Woodstock when you were 28 and six months pregnant. What do you remember about it?
What can you say about Woodstock? Well, you know what, I just wrote a poem about Jimi Hendrix. This is about Woodstock. Do you want to hear it?
Yes!
Jimi Hendrix
You performed in front of me on the Isle of Wight
and somehow set the stage on fire
As the aftermath flickers through the floodlights, I perform behind you
I sing another match, start again, look out, the saints are getting through it
You're no saint, but you did get through it.
It's like you've been through a huge natural disaster
You went through it like a fucking hurricane.
Like a fucking volcano
At Woodstock, you took out the national anthem and made it your own
No bombs exploding in the sky, no rockets glowing red
In the dawn light there is only your guitar and the electric light of three hundred thousand souls
In the soil, in the volcanic ash
And you were only 27 when you died
Thank you so much for sharing this. I will be absorbing this for a long time. In your 20s, you were compared to Gandhi and cultural critics dubbed you the "Barefoot Madonna." Are you aware of the impact it's having while it's happening?
I'm not sure I am. On the other hand, who really knows? At Woodstock, for example, how much did we know how historic that would be? You will discover this later.
Tell me what you remember about Martin Luther King. It's still touching when you talk about him in the documentary.
I have this reaction every time I listen to him speak because he is so meaningful to my life and the lives of millions of others. What people don’t see is his sense of humor. Thankfully, I stayed in the inner circle on and off for many years. So I heard him and his lieutenants joking constantly.
You talk about being “addicted to radicalism.” Giving so much to the world comes at a personal cost. As we see in the movie, your son really suffered from your absence while growing up.
I may be addicted to it, but I choose things very carefully. I haven't done anything that I regret. I think the only way this costs me is to consider what my son said in the movie. I am very ugly. I was watching "Joan Baez Goes to Cambodia" and I was thinking, "Why Cambodia? Why not with my kids?" Why did I keep doing it when I needed to go home when I was really needed elsewhere? Charity person?
This is one of the most beautiful parts of the film. We see how close you are to him now.
I think it's never too late to fix. I joke that I’m starting a “Bad Moms Club” because so many of us feel like we’re not doing it right. I think my situation was exaggerated and I'm glad my son was able to say what he did. Therapy has been so helpful to us, to Gabe and to me. We work together.
Speaking of relationships, does it bother you that people are still interested in your relationship with Bob Dylan? Why do you think this is?
You know, I'm not sure. The stars align for a reason, but that doesn't explain why it's so durable. [It’s] some kind of bizarre fairy tale.
I do think it's important to add that when I painted his portrait, all the anxiety, pain, and nonsense ended. [I pictured him] At a very young age, I started listening to his music and crying. This went on for a long time, probably until I finished the painting. It's like I've washed away all the crap that's been there for decades. Now that I've moved on from that, I can only be grateful that I got to know this kid during that time and that I sang his songs. I was lucky enough not to hide the negative stuff but to let it go.
Do you think of him now when you sing " Diamonds and Rust," which was inspired by him ?
It depends on the audience. If this was an audience I didn't like, I might consider adding it to my shopping list. If the audience is great, I know they're fanciful about the whole thing. But some people don’t know what this song means. Yes, sometimes I think back to that time. Many times I want to laugh because this song is such an idealistic story.
In the documentary, you say, "I'm not very good at one-on-one relationships. I'm very good at one-on-one confrontations with two thousand people." What do you mean?
Well, not everyone is lucky enough to say that. this is very simple. This is one of the ways I try to avoid having to deal with the hard work of one-on-one engagement. So I joke about that, but the truth is I still chose that. It's a conscious decision to address having a truly honest relationship with someone and all that it involves. I just don't want to do that. Looks so tired.
I heard you dated Steve Jobs. An Australian journalist once asked you: "Has it ever occurred to you that you are the only woman in the world to have seen Steve Jobs and Bob Dylan naked?" You replied: "But not at the same time."
[ Laughs ] Yeah, it caught her off guard because she thought she caught me off guard.
As we see in the movie, in your twenties you were imprisoned twice for protesting the Vietnam draft . How did that experience change you?
Well, I gained 8 pounds. This is not a difficult place. It was a rehabilitation center. In prison, I didn't have a leadership role, so I took advantage of my downtime. I don't need to answer the phone. I never had to send an email. I bought a lot of things at the canteen and ate too much. I was with my mom both times so we had a chance to spend some time together.
What prompted you to go to therapy and unearth your childhood trauma at age 50? Is it to rebuild your relationship with your son?
No, that hasn’t started yet because I don’t know anything about it. I was not present for most of his life. No, I really can't hold on anymore. I don’t want to continue the things that have held me back and have held me back my entire life. This is unexplored territory. I knew it would require different work than what I had been doing. I've been working on this with really good therapists who keep me active, productive, and creative. I could go around it, on top of it, under it, but I never dealt with what it was.
Are you brave enough to share this publicly now because you want to leave a legacy that is as honest as possible?
Yes, exactly. This is the right [time]. My family is all gone. My son totally gets it. The only worry was for my granddaughter, she saw the movie and loved it. I don't think it took much courage; it just made the decision.
Do you feel freer now?
Yes, because of the nature of the recovery work [in therapy], but also because of forgiveness.
I watched with rapt attention as you confronted your parents about your [abuse] experience. You heard their denials. Then, there’s a sequence where you’re walking with them towards the end of their lives. How does that work?
I'll tell you something, because it's important: they don't remember. When they say it's made up, they're not lying. For their part, they don't remember what happened. I understand blocking [it] because I've been doing it for 50 years. I want to remember, and it takes [therapeutic] work to remember. They don't want to remember.
You led us through a terrible time of division. Do you have wisdom when so many people are in pain?
My advice is mainly to live in denial most of the time because we have to protect ourselves from the pain. Then, whenever you are not denying yourself, do something that calls you. Go make trouble and try to be a decent person.
This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity .
If you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted, you can call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673) or visit hotline.rainn.org.
