Saturday, October 19, 2013

Honoring Woodstock: A Recent Visit

When I was still just a teenager, back in early 1994, I was very, very tempted to go to the "Woodstock" that was to be held in Saugerties, New York. A part of me that had always envied the generation before me, particularly with the activism of the sixties and Woodstock, wanted to have something like that for my generation. We already had a movement, albeit a different kind of movement. But "grunge" was something that also had that same spirit of peaceful resistance, if you paid attention to that sort of thing. A lot of young people did not. I know a lot of young people back then who simply liked to wear backwards baseball caps and cargo shorts. Many, if not most, were in it for the look, the fashion appeal. Not the spirit. Unfortunately, not the spirit behind it, which was, and still often continues to be, misunderstood.

Still, knowing this, the thought of another "Woodstock" had a certain appeal, and I definitely wanted to go.

But it was not the same thing.

Sure, it would have high profile bands, and the name "Woodstock". But the spirit was not the same. To my understanding, you had to obtain tokens once on the grounds, in order to purchase anything. And, of course, everything was overpriced. It was all about making money. Thus, it just does not resonate anywhere nearly the way the original did. Period.

And the "Woodstock" of 1999, in Rome, New York? Please! That concert, which was held on what formerly had been an Air Force base, ended abruptly in violence. That's right, and it bears repeating, just in case you missed the point: the late-nineties answer to the festival supposedly about peace, love, and music, ended abruptly with police forcing concert goers off the grounds. People revisiting that place are visiting the scene of violent crime, which included rape. It does not deserve the name Woodstock, and frankly, should not be mentioned in the same breath as the legendary concert in 1969, which represented the very best, not the very worst, that youth culture had to offer.

Of course, it cannot be seen as a real surprise that those concerts did not have quite the power and resonance as the original Woodstock concert did. Those two were imposters, and not at all in the same spirit as the original one. One of them, if not both of them, featured "tokens" that served as currency while the concert was going on. So, the promoters made money, hand over fist most likely, with these tokens, because people attending the concert had to have them in order to purchase things. Also, you can bet that many people made a point of keeping these tokens as souvenirs. Perhaps some were sold along the way. Plus, one of those concerts was on a former military base, which would have been unthinkable in 1969, for a concert promoting peace and love.

The original Woodstock was not merely a great concert, although the musical genius and creativity that was on stage, and even on some level off stage, was just out of this world. Yet, Woodstock also offered a real glimpse of another way of life, and another way of thinking and doing things. It may seem like the butt of jokes nowadays, all these years later, with the benefit of hindsight. But remember that the focus then was as a reaction to the longstanding conformity that had prior been the dominant theme in American society. Woodstock offered something else entirely: an emphasis on peace, on love, and creativity the likes of which had never been seen before. That is what people remember when they think of Woodstock (and I mean the real Woodstock, not the imposters in the nineties). That is why Woodstock endures right up to the present.

The two music festivals that came under the name of Woodstock in the nineties were a reflection of the time. They did not offer a glimpse to much of anything new or revolutionary, and so the memories from them do not endure. Quite simply, they did not measure up to the potency of that original Woodstock. And really, how could they? What they were, really, were money making schemes, under the cloak of honoring the original Woodstock and, perhaps if the promoters were even more shameless, proclaiming to truly be the new Woodstock for a new generation.

History may repeat itself, but not always. And it is never exactly the way it was before, however similar it may seem at times.

The truth is that the closest to Woodstock that we see these days would be in Europe, where three day music festivals are still not that uncommon. They have become very rare here in the United States, where they were born in the first place, but have since rather fallen by the wayside. Those "Woodstocks" of the nineties were rather forced attempts to recreate something that can never again be recreated.

Yet, some laugh at the original Woodstock, and refuse to take it, or the whole sixties counterculture, seriously. Hippie culture is often ridiculed, often dismissed as stoner culture. They will imitate someone getting high (and out of their right mind) as symbolic of the whole movement, which is dismissive and, frankly, unfair. Nothing that would be so preposterous as all that would continue to enjoy a lasting reputation and presence if it were that ridiculous. Clearly, there was something more to Woodstock than that.

Plus, in our culture which places huge emphasis on being active, and energetically, even tirelessly, pursuing ambitions and desires.

Perhaps, indeed, we can find this more relaxed approach humorous.

Or, maybe, we can find something of an alternative to that rigid mindset that emphasizes conformity, much like the dominant cultural mores of the fifties and early sixties did?

It was not all some elaborate, weird joke grown way out of proportion, like it was on steroids or something. There was something real there to be had, a different spirit, an alternative to an entrenched and inflexible mindset that felt that one size fits all. It was also a protest to a culture of violence, both at home and abroad. And it was serious, rather than some strange joke or prank. There was something more concrete in the base of that counterculture. After all, as the song suggests, what's so funny about peace, love, and understanding?

Certainly, there is more than just self-serving humor and laughing at others that makes us remember the hippies and the sixties, and particularly, Woodstock.

What is it? There was a level of seriousness of music, of creation itself.

Seriousness? Is that even the right word for it? How about reverence. There is something sacred, almost, in the significance of what happened at this place, which Colin Hay continually referred to as "hallowed ground".

You can feel the reverence. Yes, reverence is the right word for it, and hardly an exaggeration. Some who remain cynical of what the sixties meant will point to the drugs, or the often false spirit of love and peace and enlightenment that was the flavor of the moment, and gone the next, for many people. But not for everyone. Some continued to believe, and to draw inspiration from that era, which probably found it's best expression at Woodstock in August of 1969. Perhaps the laid back approach employed by many of the youth back then was also problematic, in a society that expects each member, especially youth, to aggressively pursue their own interests. This rather flew in the face of all that.

There are other criticisms, as well. The opposition to the war was itself self-serving. Some simply just did not want to personally be sent off to war, and joined the counterculture of the time, perhaps. Another criticism leveled at that generation is that they were all full of piss and vinegar back then, in their youth, and supposedly advocated the spirit of peace and love, but that they not much later on became the yuppies of the eighties, wrapped up in themselves and in their money, and voting for Reagan for President, the same man who was called out and criticized by name on the stage of Woodstock, and who had made that infamous joke about hippies looking like Jane and smelling like Tarzan.

In some cases, perhaps those criticisms are justified. Surely, there are those who turned their back on this hippie fad movement as soon as it was personally convenient to do so, and pursued their own self-interests.

But I do not believe this is true overall. Such stereotypes are just generalizations, and I do not believe that the spirit that prevailed at Woodstock would have been possible if people were faking.

No, there was something real there, alright.

I was reminded of my days at Frost Valley, a beautiful camp situated in the pristine nature of the Catskills of New York, not very far itself from Woodstock. There was a guy there, he was a bit too old to be a camp counselor, but he was one of the top guys (although his precise role and title escape me). But he was huge on hippie stuff, and dressed the part at a time when that was clearly outdated (we're talking right in the middle of the "Me" decade of the eighties, here). Somehow or other, the camp was gathered around when he was being honored one day, and he was presented a gift. It was an original poster advertising the Woodstock Festival, and he reacted with strong emotion, almost in tears, more than a decade and a half after the event. We kids did not know how to react, because few of us likely had seen a grown man on the verge of crying. Yet, no one laughed that I can recall. Clearly, he was moved by something that we were too young to understand back then. I don't have to tell you that it meant something to him.

For that matter, it meant something to my father, as well, who was, in his day, a French hippie. My mom told me that she had entertained going, although, in the end, she did not. It meant something to the entire family. I can remember my brother and I, on a summer day in August of 1989, coming back from a trip to France. My parents had picked us up at the airport, and we were driving back home. I think that we stopped by Lodi, our old town, before we moved to West Milford. And on the radio, as you may have guessed, they were playing some stuff from Woodstock, because it was the 20th anniversary. My brother and my father, in particular, were discussing it, and my brother clearly wished that there was something even remotely comparable at that time - and you need to keep in mind that this was the 1980's, which was the anti-sixties, in many respects. Never before, or even since, has the spirit of Woodstock felt quite so far away as during the days of Reagan and Bush. The eighties were a lot of things. But one thing is absolutely certain: they were not even remotely like the sixties.

I do not know exactly when the Bethel Woods venue opened up, and when concerts began to come again to that corner of upstate New York. There is a museum there as well, and of course, a shop selling very overpriced souvenirs and such, predictably enough. I have now been there twice (not to the museum, though I have heard nothing but positives about it, and personally intend to go when, not if, I make that third visit). And listening to the musicians who have performed here in the two concerts that I was fortunate enough to have attended, it meant something real to them, as well. They spoke of it like one might speak of any legendary event. They spoke of it with, yes, reverence. It was something that they aspired to, and either were proud to have been a part of, or wished, on some level, to have been a part of. Ringo talked about it, as did Edgar Winters, who actually had taken the stage at Woodstock. Rick Derringer pointed out that he, too, had been there - although only as a member of the audience. The t two musicians that we went to see last week, Chris Trapper and Colin Hay, also both mentioned it in reverential tones.

Yes, Woodstock still means something, even more than four decades after the fact.

The fact of the matter is that the musical genius and creativity for this concert was simply off the charts. That is why the concert gained a legacy that continues to live on right to the present day. It also served as a showcase for the very best that the youth generation had to offer. Call them hippies, or flower children, or peaceniks, or whatever other moniker you want to, but it served as a real alternative for many, however

It reminded me a little bit of the visits to another place where you sense a certain something, that same kind of reverence, for the role this place had in the past. Yes, it reminded me of Walden Woods, in Massachusetts, where Henry David Thoreau stayed for over two years, and wrote about his experiences in his book, "Walden", which was little known in his own day, but which has come to have a lasting presence. It is that place which often is considered the birthplace of the modern environmental movement, as Thoreau was expressing thoughts and ideas and articulating experiences that proved to be decades ahead of his time.

Yes, Woodstock reminded me of that. It is symbolic of a spirit that might not have precisely been born here (and let us be clear about Walden, also, because Native Americans had largely been expressing much of the same sentiments in appreciation of nature that Thoreau had, only he received much of the credit). But this spirit had it's best expression here. The Woodstock Music Festival highlighted the very best spirit that the sixties protest and activist movement had to offer. Brilliance on stage, an emphasis on creativity on and off the stage, and a spirit of peace and love that came to define it. Like with Thoreau's Walden, there was also a spirit of resistance. Nonviolent resistance to a violent country in the midst of violent times, with recent political assassinations, racial violence, and particularly to a senseless war in a faraway land.

Did other concert events have the same impact, possibly? Are there concerts that can compare with Woodstock?

Well, as I already have pointed out, three day music festivals still exist, only there are generally now on the other side of the pond, in Europe. And none of them have (yet) had quite the same energy and creativity that Woodstock became known for. Although, I should note, that three day music festivals may be coming back here in the States. For one, Lollapalooza (which I am about to delve into further about), is back, but in one stationary place every year - Chicago. In Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, I know that they have music festivals every summer, as well. I even attended one year, back in 2006. But it could hardly be compared to Woodstock. It's just a town hosting music concerts every year, and having all sorts of other events available. But it's certainly not Woodstock.

The closest that I can think of was the Lollapalooza festival, back in the nineties. I actually went to Lollapalooza in 1996, but by then, the festival was already arguably in decline. But the atmosphere was unlike anything that I had been to before, and it lived up to my expectations of the concert as a kind of showcase for the best that youth culture back in the nineties offered, full of neo-activism, fully updated from the bygone days of the sixties. Plus, the very name Lollapalooza resonated with people. It probably was not as immediately identifiable as Woodstock, but it was not that far off. And when "grunge", if you will, became the thing for young people (such as myself) back in the early nineties, Lollapalooza was, arguably, where that whole thing took off - although you could argue MTV, and even more specifically, you could argue Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" video. But that is a channel, and we are talking about music festivals here. And the whole "Seattle scene" thing (again, assuming such a thing existed) really took off during Lollapalooza in the early nineties, when Pearl Jam and Soundgarden rocked Lollapalooza, as did a number of other bands (the headliners were the Red Hot Chili Peppers).

But Lollapalooza, in those days, anyway, was a moving rock festival. It was a tour, going from city to city. There was no one place that you could look at and say, "Here is where it all happened, on this and that day...", like you can with Woodstock.

Now, personally, I would argue that, even more recently, one annual concert that holds a little bit of the same spirit as both Woodstock and Lollapalooza would be the Farm Aid concerts. These have actually been in existence since the eighties, but with the explosion of interest in more natural, healthier, "organic" foods, the information booths that accompany Farm Aid every year have certain aspects of that whole alternative lifestyle down pat, at least for food. Not sure if it is an all-encompassing, cohesive movement about lifestyles in general, like Woodstock (and maybe even Lollapalooza, arguably) possessed. But Farm Aid, despite the fact that it, too, moves around, tends to focus on one place each year, and the focus is one healthier foods, and on helping out farmers, in particular. That means battling corporate America, which I'm all for! And Farm Aid, unlike Woodstock and Lollapalooza, exists now at a time when it can utilize the internet, and thus, even during the other 364 days on the calendar when there isn't a concert being held, they still encourage activism. There are undeniably big names attached to the concert there. Every year, it has John Mellencamp, Dave Matthews, Neil Young, and Willie Nelson. Some of the other musicians that I have seen there were Nora Jones, Jason Mraz, Jack Johnson, Kenny Chesney, and even Steven Tyler as a special guest! And I know that they have had numerous other notable and influential musical guests on stage in other years, as well.

But can Farm Aid really fairly be compared to Woodstock? Will people remember Farm Aid in the same manner that they remember Woodstock? Probably not, admittedly.

One could argue that there was the 12/12/12 Sandy Benefit, not quite one year ago. That, too, was a star-studded lineup, and for a good cause. But it was different. First off, it was relegated to one night. Also, while there was some excellent music by first rate artists to be enjoyed that evening, there was not as much artistic freedom being expressed, as many boundaries being expanded. There was also not the same spirit, as many people were there simply for the sake of the names attached, as well as for the souvenirs to be had. It was prominently sponsored by corporations, as well. It was televised live nationally, perhaps even internationally. There was no rejection of the ideas, let alone the actual concert, by anyone that I am aware of, and so it did not have the same edge, if you will, that the sixties had. All of this meant that it was very different than Woodstock. Not that it was a bad concert at all, believe me. But was it on the same level of Woodstock, despite the undeniable big names and draw of star power and high profile? No, not even close.

Fact is, Woodstock stands alone. That is why people remember it still, going on half a century later. It is why people will continue to remember it and talk about it for many years to come, most likely even after all of those who took the stage, and eventually, all of those occupied the surrounding fields, have gone. It will be remembered, because it showcased a very memorable generation like nothing before or since. That is why we still remember it. That is why I am talking about it now, and why it was such a big deal when my brother and I went there last week. There is just, simply put, nothing like Woodstock.

Probably the closest thing to Woodstock that existed was, actually, the predecessor to Woodstock: the Monterey Music Festival, which came the summer before. But as great as the concert was, it remains in the shadow of Woodstock, and there must be a reason for it, right? The reason is that Woodstock served as a better symbol, was a stronger and more memorable concert, and that's saying something. The summer of love might be recognized as 1967, but perhaps the best, most lasting symbols of that whole movement, which included the "Summer of Love", was right there at Woodstock in 1969, on a farm field in upstate New York. So much so, in fact, that many people, hippies or not, can recall the events there more than four decades after the fact. And with a certain fondness, to boot.

That was what brought us to Woodstock, even though we were both born long after the concert took place, and the site of the concert became, once again, just fields. But not just any fields. These carried memories, and a certain meaning behind those memories. That is why people make what can probably rightly be considered a pilgrimage of sorts, because there actually is a certain spirituality to the place. It is not like some established religion, but it is a spirit nonetheless that brings people here.

So, we arrived after driving in pristine countryside, as the leaves were only beginning to turn, revealing but a glimpse of the full color and splendor of the autumn season (the peak will likely be soon, perhaps even now, as I write this). We arrived at the field, which can literally be described as the "field of dreams". A field that is so much more than a simple field. It is a place where, in a real sense, magic happened. It is a place where people gathered to see brilliance on stage, and shared a vision of how the world should be off of it. It is a place that people reflected and reminisced about long afterwards. And it is clearly a place that still captures the imagination, and which people still turn to for inspiration, and perhaps, even, as a symbol that some still believe a better world to be possible.

Here's to Woodstock!





















One side note that I thought appropriate to add here. We stopped to eat at this place, which was called the "Woodstock Emporium", and was filled with hippie themed decor, and the staff members were wearing tye-dyed t-shirts clearly influenced by Woodstock. There were not exactly a ton of choices by the time that we got there, because again, this is the countryside. But the name sounded cool, and it looked like it carried part of the whole hippie vibe.

But it did not. The guy in charge, despite being dressed in tye-dye, was closer to being a Tea Party conservative, a neocon. He may dress the part of the sixties, but he certainly does not act like it. And I'm willing to bet anything that he does not think like it, either. He was impatient with us, and next to Woodstock and sixties paraphernalia, which he had for sale, there were more recent, Gung-Ho Republican artifacts on display. And again, he was quite aggressive and all business. 

He may wear tye-dye, and the place looks like it would belong next to the Hippie Mecca of the world. But what is more important than the presentation is the substance, and in this case, the spirit is not behind the act, believe me. He is just a businessman, shamelessly exploiting the spirit of the age that made Woodstock famous.

Nothing truly of the Woodstock spirit here. Keep moving along.

And we did, both a little regretful that we had given this guy our money. Should have picked something up elsewhere, but it was too late. But I figured it would be best to warn you, if you want to honor the spirit of Woodstock, and choose to do so someday. Please, don't bother stopping at, let along giving money to, the Woodstock Emporium. Although ultimately, the choice is yours to make.

That said, I was able to capture these images of a beautiful sunset in the clear skies of rural, upstate New York, just outside of the "Woodstock Emporium" (arousing the suspicion of the owner of the store in the process). It was too beautiful not to take pictures, and too beautiful, I thought, not to share those pictures here. 




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