By Carol Tannenhauser
Joan Baez met Bob Dylan for the first time in 1961. She was 20 years old, staying with her boyfriend, Michael, in a friend’s parents’ apartment on Riverside Drive, on the Upper West Side. She had come to New York from her hometown of Cambridge, MA, where she had been making a name for herself as a folk singer.
“Everybody was coming to New York,” she said. “People would say, have you been to the Village? Have you met so-and-so? Have you played here, played there? I was all starry-eyed about the Village.”
Joan and Michael went to the Village, “and this ragamuffin showed up,” she recalled, referring to Dylan. “I could feel my boyfriend bristle – and he had a right to bristle! There was chemistry, yeah,” she added, softly.
Joan and I were sitting on a window seat in my apartment on a Sunday afternoon, our backs to Central Park, when she told me this and other stories. Through “a simple twist of fate,” she had been staying with me for the past four days.
She had flown in from her home in Northern California to attend the May 16th Bruce Springsteen concert at Madison Square Garden. “Bruce and I had reconnected at the massive ‘No Kings’ rally in Minnesota in March, where we performed, along with other artists, united in protest against Trump’s immigration policies,” Joan recalled. “Bruce uses his concerts to speak clearly and directly to his fans about what’s happening to our country, and, of course, I can relate to that. I wanted to be there.”
Mutual close friends, Karen and Irwin Redlener, suggested that Joan stay with me, because the Beacon Hotel, where she usually stays, was under construction. My place was perfect — after I spent a week cleaning and decluttering it and filling it with groceries and flowers. I wasn’t actively anxious about her coming, simply because it didn’t seem real. How could this iconic figure — singer, activist, artist — whom I had admired all my adult life be coming to stay with me?
Then, from the time she appeared in my doorway, having Joan Baez as a houseguest felt as natural as Joan herself.
We moved around the apartment effortlessly, like familiar roommates, laughing and talking. We ate yogurt together and went to the building’s gym, walking on treadmills. One night, I had a horrific nightmare (If you must know, I was lost in Bloomingdale’s), and woke up trembling. Joan comforted me and offered tea. Her kindness and our connection were remarkable. To my delight, she later wrote in a text to me, “I’ve made a new friend in Carol Tannenhauser.”
How can I explain what it’s like to wake up to Joan Baez softly singing in the next room? Or to watch her stretch in the morning, using the living room furniture as a gym?
Having Joan Baez in my home felt like being in a state of grace. Not only does she have the purest of voices, but the purest of hearts. She is a civil-rights and anti-war activist and has been since she was a young girl singing ballads about Emmett Till. A few years ago, she went to war-torn Ukraine to visit and sing to the children.
We took a walk in Central Park with Karen up to Belvedere Castle and through the Shakespeare Garden.
We got a personal guided tour of the dinosaurs, one of Joan’s passions, at the UWS’s American Museum of Natural History.
We threw a small party for her on the eve of her departure and she sang, a haunting version of the freedom song, “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around.” Everyone in the room was spellbound. Then, she chatted with each and every guest, young and old, all strangers to her, warmly.
At 85 years old, she is an American treasure.
Here are some excerpts from WSR’s conversations with Joan Baez:
WSR: So, how was the concert?
Joan Baez: The concert was a musical blockbuster. 20,000 fans singing every note of his hits. Most impressive to me were the mini sermons [Springsteen] gave between songs. While perched at the edge of the stage, he let loose an unfiltered tirade against the administration, the billionaires, global warming, eventually switching to lauding community, resistance, hope, and music. This phrase was vital for all of us to hear: “And it’s happening now, and it’s happening now.”
WSR: How are you dealing with today’s world?
Joan Baez: I have different responses, but probably the most helpful is, people should spend 80% of their day in denial and enjoy doing all the things they do. And the 20%, or even 10%, is, quit thinking about yourself. Look at the mess, pick out one thing you could do. Forget about trying to do it all. That’s my little whatever you wanna call it. We may not be able to turn the tide, but we can save a few fish. That’s when you get involved with a group. It could be anything, what you’ve been putting off for the last five years, whether it’s the homeless guy on the corner or cats and dogs. Just do it.
WSR: So, what are you doing these days?
Joan Baez: I’m doing different things. For instance, I’m painting portraits of people who’ve made nonviolent change on a big scale, you know, from Gandhi to [Ukrainian President Volodymyr] Zelensky. Zelensky’s a big one. Fauci. And Dylan. In spite of his being a weirdo, he gave us so much. And others. We sell the signed prints for $500 and give the money to different organizations.
WSR: Did you study art in college?
Joan Baez: No, no, I, you know, I had terrible grades, and the push was on because everybody went to college. I didn’t want to go. So I was still with my family and the guitar came along and the voice came along and I never looked back. I mean, this voice wasn’t like anything I’d heard before.
WSR: Do you consider it a gift?
Joan Baez: Oh, absolutely, totally. I almost feel as though I can say I think it’s a great voice because it isn’t something I created. I call what I do maintenance and delivery. For the rest of it, I’m just grateful.
WSR: Tell me a little about Bob Dylan.
Joan Baez: I was mystified by him. I just thought he was so brilliant, and he was channeling from somewhere. We didn’t use the word back then, but he was just writing songs a mile a minute, all day and all night. And most of it was good. He once said, “After I’m dead, they,” meaning critics, “they’re going to try to figure all this shit out.” He said, “Shit, I don’t know what it means.”
WSR: So, now you’re 85. How does that feel?
Joan Baez: 80 was one thing, 85’s another. 80 was a shock that I was 80; 85 is difficult. Keeping up the body and the mind, flexibility, balance. It’s a lot. I’m not…I have a difficult balance, so I work on that constantly, and I’ve fallen. You know, I try to learn how to fall right. Some of the physical therapy really is getting how to fall right. And I’m good at falling backwards. You kind of roll up.
WSR: As long as you don’t hit your head. What about singing?
Joan Baez: Singing… my voice that people know, just basically I don’t have anymore. I have the one that last night you heard. So singing… I try to find what songs I can do in that range that are good. And right now, I sing at different events, you know, at tributes to my fellow songwriters.
WSR: How did you like your visit to the Upper West Side? What do you think of the neighborhood?
Joan Baez: I had a wonderful time walking up and down your neighborhood. And you’re right, people are friendly. They’re probably not that friendly in my little tiny town. New Yorkers have a special thing with each other, I think. They’re proud to be New Yorkers.
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This article and the interview are so delicious. This is why I love the UWS. Thank you, Carol, for taking in the wondrous Joan.