For decades Joni Mitchell’s life and music have enraptured listeners. One of the most celebrated artists of her generation, Mitchell has inspired countless musicians—from peers like James Taylor, to inheritors like Prince and Brandi Carlile—and authors, who have dissected her music and her life in their writing. At the same time, Mitchell has always been a force beckoning us still closer, as—with the other arm—she pushes us away. Given this, music critic Ann Powers wondered whether there was another way to draw insights from the life of this singular musician who never stops moving, never stops experimenting.
In Traveling, Powers seeks to understand Mitchell through her myriad journeys. Through extensive interviews with Mitchell's peers and deep archival research, she takes readers to rural Canada, mapping the singer’s childhood battle with polio. She charts the course of Mitchell’s musical evolution, ranging from early folk to jazz fusion to experimentation with pop synthetics. She follows the winding road of Mitchell’s collaborations with other greats, and the loves that emerged along the way, all the way through to the remarkable return of Mitchell to music-making after the 2015 aneurysm that nearly took her life.
This is NOT a biography of Joni Mitchell, as the author clearly states in the introduction. It seems like other readers who hold negative opinions about this book either skipped the introduction or didn't grasp what Powers meant when she says:
"I'm not a biographer, in the usual definition of that term; something in me instinctively opposes the idea that one person can sort through all the facts of another's life and come up with anything close to that stranger's true story. Instead, I'm a critic. A kind of mapmaker, as I see it, setting down lines meant to guide others along the trajectories of artists who are always one step ahead of me."
This is a work of music journalism, of criticism, a kaleidoscopic look at a cultural figure who, over decades in the public eye and endless adulations, has taken on almost a mythic status. It seems nearly impossible to look at Mitchell with a critical eye these days, though she's still with us her legacy is cemented as one of the 'greats' and the term 'genius' is basically a nickname hers at this point. I don't disagree with those labels, by any means. I'm a huge fan! I have loved Joni Mitchell for nearly half my life at this point. I was lucky enough to attend Joni 75 in 2018 (something Powers references in the book) and be in the room with Joni herself while a dozen or so performers paid homage to her immense career. I can go to my death bed saying I sang 'Happy Birthday' to THE Joni Mitchell.
But she's not without her faults, and any artist with this immense influence is worth looking at closely. The biographies have been written, and she's shared stories of her life in her own words to others. We don't need more facts. What Powers brings to the table is the eye of a seasoned music journalist who can synthesize vast amounts of information with a deep knowledge of music history into something that brings a new side to Joni's story.
As the title suggests, this book takes us on paths throughout Mitchell's career, especially ones that are often ignored or under-explored. Though told chronologically, the book's chapters are also thematic. Powers is able to balance this biographical information with broader themes of the culture in which Mitchell worked and lived, as well as contemporary thought. Perhaps other readers who decry Powers being too present in the book were just uncomfortable with the fact that the 'golden age' of folk music wasn't as idyllic as it seems in the photos. I appreciated immensely how this book brought to the table new things to consider about an artist who has been written and talked about endlessly since she splashed onto the scene.
I don't really have anything bad to say about this book. It's bold and imperfect, like any good piece of art, but most importantly it's thought-provoking. Someone said they think Mitchell would hate this book, while the author herself says:
"Some, maybe Mitchell herself, may consider my charting revisionist. I have tried to resist or at least question common assumptions about an artist whom so many believe they know so well. On occasion, I hope I've transgressed. That's what a self-made original like Mitchell would respect, I tell myself."
I can't say for sure who is right. It doesn't matter. I sit here only appreciating even more the power of an artist like Mitchell, flaws and all, and the discourse her art engenders as only great art can.
I started this book but abandoned it about 20% of the way in. I was looking for something that was pretty much entirely about Joni Mitchell, but this book seemed to be about half about Joni Mitchell. The rest was about the author and her life, the author's thoughts on methodology for biographical material, the authors thoughts on incidents that happened while doing research for the book, and tangential incidents that were contemporaneous with Joni's life. Not the Joni Mitchell biography for me.
One of the most satisfying of the hundreds of music books I've read in the course of a career listening to, meditating on, and writing about music. There are two things I look for in a book centered on an individual artist. First, does it help me hear music I love in more emotionally, aesthetically, and intellectually complex ways. Second, does it give me a deeper apprehension of the lived experience of the musician. Traveling fulfills both of those challenges in a stunning manner. I've lived with Joni Mitchell's music from my late teens on, responding more immediately to some albums than others, and, as Powers' book made me realize, missing a couple almost entirely. Like zillions of other hippies, I took her early albums (Ladies of the Canyon, Clouds) to heart. Like a somewhat smaller number of male listeners, I understood Blue and For the Roses calls to reconsider my highly conditioned and mostly unconscious patriarchal thought patterns and behaviors. As someone who thinks of jazz not as a marketing category but as a commitment to pushing into wild zones (the feminist phrasing) of experience, I "got" her work with Wayne Shorter and Herbie Hancock and received her collaboration with Charles Mingus with real joy. But, while I certainly gave each album a spin as it appeared, Traveling made me aware of how superficially I'd responded to Turbulent Indigo, Night Ride Home and Chalk Marks in a Storm. Better late than never, I've been listening deeply as I made my way through Powers' engagement, returning to re-read and re-think along the way. Very few musical books have changed my listening life--a central part of all the rest of my life--as much as this beautiful book. I came out feeling that I understood a great deal more about the pressures and complexities and contradictions Mitchell had lived through and processed into both her lyrics and her sound.
A good deal of that is becaue alongside the musical exploration, Powers has written one of the best books about the lived experience of feminism over the last half century. In scanning some of the reviews of the book (I do my best to avoid social media entirely but heard from music writer friends that the response to Traveling hadn't been as universal as I'd assumed), I took note of the complaints that there was too much Powers in the text. Which is utter nonsense. The nature of call-and-response, the African diasporic aesthetic deeply embedded in Mitchell's work absolutely requires personal presence. That's not to be confused with the types of essentially solipsistic worrying about one's abstract identity that infect so much current cultural discourse. Yes, identity does matter; no, it doesn't limit the possible range of response. It's a very tricky challenge and Powers pulls it off perfectly. She provides information about her experiences that condition her response to Mitchell, but understands that the point of that is illuminating both the continuities and the differences in what it means to "live feminist." (She cites both Sara Ahmed's Living a Feminist Life and Alice Echols' Daring to Be Bad, key texts from different cultural eras that I highly recommend.). If I were still actively teaching young folks interested in writing about culture, I'd make the introduction to Travelling required reading on how to position one's self.
As that suggests, Travelling presents any number of challenges to male readers to check their attitudes and responses. Powers is sympathetically unsparing to the men in Mitchell's life and audience. There were several points where my defensiveness activated and mostly when I'd thought about it, I agreed with the implications of what she was saying. And that leads back to why and how re-engaging Mitchell's music, particularly the more recent phases, is busy readjusting my sense of the world.
Which leads to my one caveat (because no honest reponse can ever be, simply, admiring). I understand and honor why Powers devotes a chapter to critiquing the racial masquerade of Don Juan's Reckless Daughter, the culmination of a period in which Mitchell created and lived in the persona of a Black man. In 21st century terms, that's cause for cancelling or at the very least judgmental critique. Powers understands it's not a simple situation, but in the end she feels obligated to issue statements of disapproval that felt to me a bit like "she should have known better like we do now." I've worked extensively with what African American novelist Ralph Ellison (who wrote brilliantly on minstrelsy in an essay that seems to have been totally forgotten) called the "jazz impulse," which was a cultural touchstone during the mid/late 60s and early 70s. Jazz in that sense marked a commitment to exploring complications and taking massive risks--testing phrasings to see if they work, recognize when they don't. In ways that have become illegible today, that means rejecting polite, predetermined notions of who one was or could be. Pushing the boundaries was real and there were times that led in directions that weren't productive. When that happens, own it, and move on. Learn from the ancestors and elders, as we can learn from Mitchell. For my taste, Powers' discussion of Don Juan leads to a resolution that doesn't ring quite true to me with my understanding of how the most important multiracial conversations work. I think Powers' understanding of Mitchell as a kind of queer ancestor in her brilliant final chapter captures the complexities perfectly, so I don't think this thought stream reduces the book's value. But I'm writing about it here to provide a sense of how it made me think.
So many other great things about Traveling: the nuanced research into how Rolling Stone covered Mitchell and othe musicians at the time; a beautiful "playlist" tracking the call and response between Mitchell and the boys around her (Crosby, Nash, James Taylor, Jackson Browne, Leonard Cohen); the very well done reflections on fusion jazz; the aforementioned epilog on Mitchell's connections with Brian Blades, John Kelly (whose work I hadn't paid attention to), and Brandi Carlile.
I'll just end by saying Ann Powers writes with clarity and grace (as anyone who follows her NPR writing is aware). Anyone who cares about music and for that matter life should read this book.
This book feels incredibly subjective. Powers makes many claims and arguments that feel, to me, like reaches. Her personal philosophies/biases/experiences concerning certain topics (feminism & gender specifically) impede on the book’s narrative. I abandoned this one about 1/3 of the way through…I’m looking for a biography, not speculation.
I’ve been a Joni Mitchell fan since the late 60s, and still listen to her classic albums and songs from then to the mid-70s. I was never very interested in her later stuff. And confirmed that by listening to some of those that Powers talks about in her fascinating (if rambling, and sometimes odd) biography. I kept Spotify open to Joni Mitchell’s discography while reading the book. And one of the very best parts is reading about all the other musicians that Joni likes, admires, has worked with, or who admire and try to emulate her. A long list! Including many of my own favorites. More side trips into Spotify, and many of these folks already had lots of starred songs and albums. I can play them over Bluetooth into my new Philips hearing aids, a dubious achievement. Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Judy Collins, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt—the list goes on, and on, and on. Miles Davis! My first serious college GF was a big fan of Miles. Now I am too.
Nina Simone! Mitchell is a great admirer of her, as am I. Please seek out her wonderful 1969 collection “The Best of Nina Simone” and start listening: Sinnerman, Pirate Jenny, Mississippi Goddam, See-Line Woman. I saw her live in a packed hall in Raleigh, NC about 1970. She played most of these songs, and brought down the house. Wonderful stuff. “This is a show tune, but the show hasn’t been written for it, yet.”
The book concludes with an ambivalent critique of Joni Mitchell in her old age. Powers feels Mitchell is now “all legend, less bite.” Mitchell is now 81, a couple years older than me. When the author reaches that age, she’s likely to find that there’s a lot to be said for growing old with some degree of grace. . .
So. For me this was easily a 4+ star book. If you are also a Joni Mitchell fan, you will definitely want to check this out. Particularly if some of the other names I’ve mentioned resonate with you. Not a perfect book—you're likely to be doing some skimming for TMI, PC stuff, etc. Worked for me! High marks.
Bonus: Musicians on "Blue" (1971), which many fans think is her best album: https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2... Carole King: "I’ll just say to my sister in songwriting: “Congratulations, Joni, and thank you.” Graham Nash on "River": "River made me sad, because it chronicled the end of our relationship . . . We were very much in love." David Crosby: "Bob Dylan’s as good a poet as Joni, but nowhere near as good a musician."
This writer, who finds almost everything ‘problematic’, who accuses Joni Mitchell of cultural appropriation for singing ‘I am Lakota’, but devotes a chapter to a man pretending to be a woman? Make it make sense.
I should have known what a book by the main music critic at NPR would be like. Two pages (in a 400-page book) on The Hissing of Summer Lawns, one of the greatest albums ever made, but eighteen pages on the - again that word - ‘problematic’ cover art of Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter.
As Ann Powers is so fond of speculating on the thoughts of Joni Mitchell, I’ll speculate and say Joni Mitchell would hate this book.
Critics of all expression Judges in black and white Saying it's wrong saying it's right
In a world of decreasing appreciation for music criticism and cultural writers- thank goodness for Ann Powers!
I have read a fair amount of biographical material on Joni Mitchell but where this book hit my sweet spot was the combination of biography, music criticism, and personal memoir that Powers wrote here.
This was enlightening! It was a present from Ferg because he knows I love Joni — little did he (or I) know, Joni’s long life and career includes some really uncomfortable, questionable decisions (chief among these is her bizarre and problematic longstanding identification with Black men, leading to several instances of blackface that she has never apologised for). So inadvertently, Ferg’s Christmas present to me was to cancel one of my favourite musicians.
But jokes aside, I thought this was a really brilliant book. Powers says at the beginning that not interviewing Joni as part of her research was deliberate; she wanted to maintain critical distance. The result is a really nuanced examination of her life, not shying away from her inexcusable actions but instead attempting to understand them and place them in context. I loved reading about the 60s scene she emerged from especially, and the way Powers traces her staggering musical legacy is compelling (if a little nerdy for me at points). Her analysis of Blue changed my understanding of the album and its relationship to ideas of feminism and womanhood at the time.
This is the kind of book focused on a single artist that I always want to find, but almost never do. (A similar effect can be found in David Cantwell's The Running Kind about Merle Haggard.) It's a deep dive into the musical life of Joni Mitchell, with plenty of biographical details thrown in when they relate to the songs, and lots of other details not covered at all. It's structured around the albums Joni Mitchell release, though some, such as Court and Spark, are barely mentioned. The reason for this? It's as much a book about Ann Powers and her relationship to Joni Mitchell as it is about our - the readers who have, presumably, listened to much of Mitchell's music often enough to care about it - relationship to her.
There's a great quote near the end from Jon Cowherd, a musician involved with Mitchell off and on in the last 30 years: "A lot of times I feel like Joni as a whole doesn't get enough (attention). There are so many levels of artistic achievement on her records. There's the lyrical and the musical and vocal. It's like going to the opera, where there are so many things to check out at one time, you know. You have to zero in on a few things at once."
Powers zeroes in on the music, on the ways polio affected Mitchell's guitar playing, on the ways she changes her voice between songs and certainly over the decades of her career, of the shifts from writing about her interior experiences to making more observational statements to covering bigger political themes. She also writes about mistakes Mitchell made along the way, most notably in a complex chapter on the time Mitchell dressed in drag as an African-American pimp character on an album cover. She covers the ways Powers herself relates to Mitchell's experiences, particularly in tales about motherhood.
It's truly a remarkable book, and one I recommend highly to anybody interested in thinking about music, in understanding it as something more than just something to love or something to accept unconditionally. There simply aren't enough books like this in the world.
Reading this book to the bitter end was difficult. However, it's not fair to give a book a negative review unless you have finished it. And I wanted to finish it as a sort of a service to fellow Joni fans. It's a long book. Interminable. At one point, with unintentional irony, Powers calls out Joni Mitchell for white, middle-class navel gazing. This is despite the fact that, somehow, in a book with Joni Mitchell gracing the cover, we find ourselves reading about Powers' childhood family therapy experiences. All fellow hardcore Joni fans out there should know that Ann Powers has not always been a Joni fan. This is a crucial aspect of the book: it's a book about how Joni makes Ann Powers feel. This is not what it says on the cover. If it was, I would not have bought it.
Powers uses Joni Mitchell's image and name to essentially write a book about herself. We read initially a lot about how women like Joni Mitchell make the author feel. She regards women who look as beautiful as Joni Mitchell did when she was young with suspicion, and assumes that everyone in the surrounding culture thinks beauty equates to virtue. However, nobody except the terminally superficial subscribes to this equation. Most adult humans will have emotionally matured to the point where they realise that what a person looks like has very little relationship to their overall character, except in so far as their own response to their physical appearance reflects on their character. Do they use their appearance to deliberately attempt make others feel inferior or excluded? Then they're probably not very nice people. But the same criteria could be applied to any advantage individuals have in life, such as intellectual ability, material wealth, or athletic prowess.
About halfway through the book, just when it seems the tangents about herself are exhausted, you may breathe a sigh of relief. Soon the self-referential streams of consciousness begin again, about Powers' high school boyfriends and encounters with men. Somehow, Powers seems to feel the need to mention the word 'snot' every time she goes on a tangent about her own life. Is this some sort of weird interpretation of feminism? Hey, I'm going to mention that women have bodily functions, because that defies stereotypes of women? In my view, it's just tedious. Again, I bought this book to gain some insights into the work of Joni Mitchell, and not into Ann Powers.
Powers seems to feel the need to demean Joni from time to time in the book, based on how Joni makes her feel. She talks about Joni struggling with being on the cusp of the transition from 'youthful beauty' to 'funky middle age' during her jazz era, buying into a stereotype that middle-aged women can't be beautiful. She then compares her own career as a music writer trying to understand jazz with Joni's quest to understand jazz, and concludes that Joni didn't quite succeed (this is despite the fact that Charles Mingus praised her talent highly).
She talks about the 'blackface' character on the cover of Don Juan's Reckless Daughter in shameful terms, completely missing the satirical nuances of this 'shocking' gesture: in Joni's world, this character would be an ironic undermining of the notion of blackface itself, among other things. A dreary conversation between Powers and another critic about this allegedly 'racist' art nouveau character from the '70s is reproduced verbatim in the book. Cultural appropriation comes into it somewhere, and other present-day liberal pieties that completely miss the point of Joni Mitchell's work. All the evidence points to Joni Mitchell not being racist but cancel culture, that refuge for insecure mediocrity, has to be brought into it (and yes, there is much unironic hand-wringing as to whether Joni should be 'cancelled').
I gave this book two stars because the writer does seem to know quite a bit about music. However, the writing style, and invasive presence of the author and her complexes, the snarky comments and judgments, are all really aspects that should be problemamtized if music writing is ever to become a serious discipline. Powers completely misses a lot of the subtleties of Joni's work and, at times, presumes to know what is going through the musician's mind in a way that is too overly familiar. If you've grown up listening to Joni's albums, this is probably not the book for you.
I would add, as an addendum, that I don't experience my musical heroes getting older as lots of little deaths. It's a joy to me to watch them grow old gracefully, and even to grow old at all, something that traditionally, you can't really take for granted in relation to the music world. I've admired Joni and devoured her albums since my mid-teens, so I honestly care about how she's represented. And this book, despite using her image, doesn't even begin to do her artistry justice.
I struggled to get through this. Besides the fact that the author underrates the early albums (which I have come to expect in these biographies), I found her observations weirdly irrelevant and her criticism tedious. It may be difficult to write about Joni Mitchell without some mention of yourself and what her music means to you. Just about all the biographies of her do this to some extent. I can't remember being as annoyed as often as I was by those insertions while reading this book.
(A full star deducted for her snarky 'shell through the washing machine' dismissal of the lovely image that ends Blue.)
Blue Here is a shell for you Inside you'll hear a sigh A foggy lullaby There is your song from me
Seriously, Ms. Powers?
If someone asks me which Joni book to read, I will continue to recommend the Yaffe book or "Joni Mitchell: In Her Own Words," by Malka Marom. As for me, I'm done with them. No more Joni books until she writes one herself.
What an accomplishment!!! This book is brilliant, comprehensive, and approaches Joni Mitchell and her music in a thoughtful, analytic way that I wish more music writers did. Especially for a an artist like Joni Mitchell, whose fans admire both her virtuosity and its emotional centrality in their lives, the way that Powers integrates her own reactions and feelings with her painstaking and exhaustive research and interviews is effective and effecting. I want to read more music writing like this. Heck, I want to write about music like this myself.
Not at all what I expected, but a few good honest (and juicy) tidbits mixed in with a lot of speculation, hearsay and guessing on behalf of the author, who inserted her own (who cares) story too often. As she says in her rather disparaging last chapter, “Other people will always make Joni Mitchell into what they need her to be.”
I think this could have been stronger with either more Ann Powers in it or less Ann Powers in it. As others have pointed out, this is more of a memoir than the cover suggests. A memoir about Powers' relationship with her image of Joni Mitchell could have worked all right, especially if it were marketed that way, but Traveling is too tell-don't-show to work. Powers discusses which aspects of Mitchell's life she related to as a child or relates to as an adult, but she doesn't map the things she finds relatable to her own life. So it's weirdly a memoir that doesn't tell readers anything about the person writing it.
This problem is compounded by the fact Powers by her own admission has had very few interactions with Mitchell. People obviously find ways to write biographies of people they've never met. But there has to be something to make a new biography of someone who's been covered worth reading. For example, Jonathan Eig's King: A Life drew upon FBI records that were only recently released. It contains information about MLK that wouldn't have been available to King's previous biographers. Traveling mostly seems to draw its facts from things other people have written about Joni Mitchell.
Powers criticizes David Yaffe's 2018 Mitchell bio Reckless Daughter in her intro, accusing Jaffe of trying to remain in Mitchell's good graces. That surprised me initially, because Reckless Daughter is the first work to give me the impression that Joni Mitchell is an OG Regina George (with a long I). Still, Powers' criticism made me hopeful that this might be a warts-and-all biography, which I far prefer to reading someone fluff their subject. But based on the rest of Traveling, my best guess is that Powers was criticizing Yaffe for merely telling readers about problematic things Mitchell has done rather than spending a few chapters forcefully condemning things Mitchell has done. Like, I get it, Ann. Joni Mitchell is cool with blackface and throwing around the n-word. It's fine to say you have a problem with that; I do, too. But what more is there to say about blackface than it's not okay? Powers brings up the nuance that some people distinguish minstrelsy from a performer darkening their skin to portray a character, but see how bringing that nuance up took me a sentence instead of chapters? The condemnation-to-discussion ratio seemed performatively high on the condemnation side. Again, Powers' accusing Yaffe of pussyfooting in Reckless Daughter surprised me because Yaffe included a lot of details that I felt made Mitchell less likable: Reckless Daughter had a lot of shitty quotes from Mitchell about her exes punctuated with the occasional "But I loved the man," an accusation that Jackson Browne led his partner to suicide iirc, Mitchell's blackface era, and claims to the dubious health condition Morgellons. I wondered when I read Traveling's intro what awful details about Mitchell that Yaffe left out. But it turns out Traveling has fewer details than Reckless Daughter. Unless I blinked and missed it, Powers doesn't even mention Morgellons or the accusation about Browne. I don't know why Powers skirted around those controversies, as she's clear in this book she doesn't have a personal relationship with Mitchell to risk.
This last detail might bother only me, but Powers brought up Buffy Sainte-Marie a few times without making it clear that Sainte-Marie's claims to being taken from First Nations parents in Canada's Sixties Scoop were lies Sainte-Marie knowingly maintained for decades. Yaffe does the same thing, but Reckless Daughter was published in 2018, and Sainte-Marie was outed as an American whitey in 2023. When Powers first mentions Sainte-Marie, she skirts around the issue by saying Sainte-Marie's mother told her as a child that she was indigenous and adopted. Powers also says Sainte-Marie spent time in Canada to search her roots. I gave Powers the benefit of the doubt when I read these statements, as for all I knew she'd finished writing Traveling before investigations into Sainte-Marie's deception were published. But later in the book, Powers mentions Sainte-Marie again and brings up the controversy over her purported First Nations ethnicity. That officially ground my gears. There's just no way to be on the fence about Sainte-Marie's lies. The people who have exposed her have done a much better job explaining how the decades of deception harmed First Nations people than I could, and I encourage anyone who wants more information to look up the Fifth Estate documentary that lays out how it was impossible for Sainte-Marie not to have known her entire life that she was born to white parents in Massachusetts. Sainte-Marie still has supporters, but they're a small number, and nobody who knows about this controversy is unsure what they believe. Powers found room in this book to criticize Iron Eyes Cody of the famed "Crying Indian" ad for not being ethnically indigenous but couldn't be bothered to speak out about Sainte-Marie's 60 years of deception, which was far larger in scale and in the harm it caused. Ugh, this from a writer who criticized a previous biographer of playing down Mitchell's controversies.
Powers concluded her book full of condemnation for Mitchell's rough edges by criticizing post-2015 aneurysm Mitchell for not having enough rough edges for her. Anyway, that was enough Ann Powers for me for a while.
This isn’t a biography. You’ll get the biographical details, but in service of one long piece of music criticism. That comes with a lot of music nerdishness, which can get a bit tedious at times. But I came away with a deeper knowledge of Joni - and my own musical taste.
Processing all the unsavory things I learned about Joni still! But, overall really appreciated this take on her and it was so nice to read after the last Joni bio. Sensing a big Joni phase coming on!
Published in 2024, Traveling, was written by Ann Powers, a music critic for more than thirty-years, who has worked for NPR, the Los Angeles Times, and the New York Times. She has written articles about Kate Bush, Chrissie Hynde, and Debbie Harry. With this book she really drills into the biography of Joni Mitchell using abundant written sources; numerous interviews of acquaintances; and, of course, abundant music recordings.
Information written about includes Mitchell's innovations as a guitarist, her studio wizardry, the diamond shine of her voice, her inestimable song writing talent, her prom queen looks, and her having had more advantages than most female singer-song writers including her close connections to David Crosby and David Geffen.
The author acknowledges the intense and uncompromising Joni worship and her admission of never being comfortable around the popular kids. As it is, though, Joni's songs, themselves, formed an argument against Mitchell being treated like a sacred cow. Joni Mitchell, the brilliant musician she was, repeatedly demonstrated the ability to turn her shortcomings into strengths.
Joni was born in 1943 to Myrtle and Bill Anderson, a grocery store manager and a homemaker, and grew up mostly in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, a prairie province of Canada.
Joni's descent into polio and triumph over it changed her young life and later became part of the story of a lonely childhood. However, be aware that she'd already shown a talent for art before she contracted polio. This disease, at this time, was a strikingly common experience in North America and whose existence undid the idea of childhood as a safe place. Mitchell's contemporary, Canadian-born musician, the north Ontario Forest explorer, Neil Young, also experienced the terrible suffering and temperately triumphant sense of polio survivorship. Joni worked hard to overcome the nerve damage, though was unable to negate life-long numbness in her left hand and instead developed unusual guitar tunings and techniques.
In grade school, one of her favorite books was Friedrich Nietzsche's 1883 book, 'Thus Spake Zarathustra.' We are reminded of ourselves being forever influenced due to this book, like this quote: "Innocence is the child, and forgetfulness, a new beginning, a game, a self-rolling wheel, a first movement, a holy Yea."
In part because she sneaked out to explore what night life she could find, she flunked twelfth grade and only recovered through the extra attention given by her mother and the special curriculum her teachers designed for her. In many regards, Joni never grew up, never put her crayons away. Mitchell in transition didn't simply fancy herself a free spirit; she worked to Inhabit that archetype. She created herself through a determined kind of restlessness.
Joni Mitchell's song "Free Man in Paris" (Court and Spark album, 1974) is about David Geffen, the L.A. based music agent and promoter, who was a close friend of Mitchell's in the 1960s and 1970s. The song describes Geffen during a trip to Paris with Mitchell and conveys his desire to escape the pressures of the music industry and feel free again. That the melody is infectious is an understatement. Over the decades, this song often plays in my head; apparently, it agrees with me.
Yeah, that must have been mind blowing for Kilauren Gibb (earlier Kelly Dale) to learn her birth mother is Joni Mitchell. The decision to give up her very young daughter for adoption occurred at age 21, in 1965, during her time as a vagabond performing on the northeastern folk circuit that included Toronto and Detroit. The pair reunited during the 1990s.
Read this book to learn more about her music, her uncountable musician and music business friends, and her grand hippie road trips. Oh, and don't be too surprised by the details provided of her time as the Queen of Laurel Canyon, vicinity Los Angeles, California.
In Traveling: On the Path of Joni Mitchell, music writer Ann Powers takes an extended look at the life, work, and legacy of the first Joni who probably comes to mind you hear the name. Of course, there are already plenty of Joni interviews and biographies out there, so Powers takes care to carve out her own Joni niche. She does this in several ways.
First and foremost, she really focuses on the music itself. Album by album, Powers dives deep into the songs, the collaborators, and Joni’s ever evolving approaches to making music. The book also places Joni’s work into its broader social context, examining the attitudes, literature, and social changes that were happening around it. In addition, Powers distinguishes Traveling by offering a warts-and-all portrait of Mitchell and her work. In researching the book, she very pointedly did not talk to Mitchell. She did not seek her subject’s blessing, and that freed her up to do more than just love on Joni. It made it possible for her to discuss some of the problematic aspects of Mitchell and her music, too—for instance, repeated occurrences of racial insensitivity and cultural appropriation that Mitchell has never apologized for, or really even acknowledged.
Finally—and I think this is important for Joni fans to understand going into the book—Ann Powers takes a complicated critical stance toward Mitchell. Yes, she loves Joni—but because she’s younger than core fans who came of age with Mitchell’s music, it’s an acquired, less intense love. Yes, she thinks Joni blazed a trail for women in pop music—but she also recognizes how Mitchell sometimes threw other women under the bus and verbally disrespected younger artists. And yes, Powers has met Mitchell, but it was a strange, ambiguous encounter that she finds a little hard to sit with. Over the course of the book, Powers gradually teases out her own complex personal feelings toward both Joni the creator and Joni the person.
I struggled a little through the first half of Traveling. Like Ann Powers, I’m too young to be an original Joni fan, so I didn’t know every song discussed, or have the associated memories that add a layer of resonance to them. Lacking that real-life context, some of the musical discussion got a little too in-depth for my interest level. However, I enjoyed the book more as it went along, as Powers started to bring more of her own story and feelings into the exploration. The result is a completely distinctive look at Joni’s life and work—one that highlights the unique, textured connections we each feel to the artists we love listening to.
My thanks to NetGalley and Dey Street Books for providing me a copy of Traveling in exchange for my review.
I don't know what this book is supposed to be, but it reads like an extended forum/Reddit post from a long term fan who thinks their take on things is absolute gospel. Avoid at all costs. If you like Joni go seek out the Malka book.
basically this entire non-autobiography autobiography is about how joni mitchell was and is so unbelievably talented that she kinda gets away with everything, and nobody could even be mad about it because at the end of the day they had to admit that she was in fact legitimately that talented. also, joni mitchell is breaking boundaries for the whw (women hating woman) community
not to be a whw myself, but i really found myself EXHAUSTED by the author’s incessant need to insert herself into basically everything… like lady let’s stay on topic, i don’t need to know the story of how you and your husband met. sorry ann :/
Really enjoyed this idiosyncratic take on Joni that isn’t a traditional biography but also not solely a musical analysis either. Appreciated that the author didn’t shy away from discussing more problematic aspects of Joni’s work (Art Nouveau?! Yikes!) as well as expressing ambivalence about the smoothing out of her legacy in recent years (although I’m definitely one who loves the public persona of elder Joni).
One of the most unusual and rewarding biographies I've read, refusing to blindly adore or gush, or on the other side to put a cold distance between reader, writer and subject
really funny to learn that joni mitchell was once just another white girl with a ukelele…. real joni heads know that her closest modern parallel is late 2000s-early 2010s Kanye West…..
I FLEW through this book! Perhaps I was just on a biography kick and on planes a lot in the past few days? But also, it’s just good.
What book covers the musical expanse from Besse Smith to Laurel Canyon writers to the jazz fusion of Chick Correa?? It did my music major heart good and helped me out many puzzle pieces together.
I also felt comforted by the complexity of Joni’s feminist, having a child and giving her up and wanting to be both an artist and a partner. Not wanting to surrender art to womanhood but be seen with both.
Also, I loved the Brandi Carlile crossover! This is such a story of how art is made in community and how it’s a calling of friends.
Would recommend to anyone! Especially if you enjoyed Daisy Jones and the Six :)
As a Joni Mitchell fan, I was excited to read this. Unfortunately, the book has no idea what it wants to be. It's not a biography or a memoir; ultimately, it succeeds at neither.
Over the course of the book, Ann Powers keeps comparing herself to Joni Mitchell in an attempt to connect to the legend. Had they been valid comparisons, I wouldn't have mind. However, the connections she makes are tenuous at best. I couldn't take them seriously and found them distracting.
In addition, it was off-putting how Powers is constantly making jabs at Joni. I acknowledge that Joni Mitchell is a person with flaws and complexities and has made questionable choices. However, the way Powers looks down at her subject matter and her fans strikes me as unprofessional. She acts as if she's the only person capable of having correct and nuanced opinions on Joni, which is very condescending.
On top of that, I was flabbergasted by the way Powers accuses other Joni biographers of being easily influenced and are incapable of being objective. Considering she didn't even interview Joni, Powers has no ground to stand on. It's ironic that she makes those accusations yet continues referencing those biographers' work anyway.
While I enjoy some of the music analysis, I finished the book feeling like I've learned little about Joni or her music. Powers spends too much time making the book all about herself and veering into meaningless speculation to truly engage with Joni Mitchell's work in a meaningful way. Would not recommend.
Thanks to NetGalley, HarperCollins, and Dey Street Books for a free review copy.
I just couldn’t wade through the sludge of this “music critic”. The writing was bogged down with her convoluted musings and comparisons to her own life. By page 82 I had about enough of “Just as the points on the map of Joni’s life start connecting, carrying her somewhere, there’s a blind spot. A presence in the shape of an absence.” Page 91 “it’s striking how many people played a role in the discovery of Joni Mitchell, as if she were a shoreline hidden and then reappearing in the mist, or an arrowhead picked up, admired, and then left for the next beachcomber to run across” I love you Joni. Don’t read this!ccc c