by Stephanie R. Myers
Over the course of a few decades, a host of superlatives have been ascribed to rock legend (there’s one already) Patti Smith. Godmother of punk. CBGB-era trailblazer. Rock’s poetess. Thing is, the most accurate descriptions of Smith are probably the most understated, as evidenced by her appearance at the New York Public Library’s series Live From the NYPL on April 29. The event, which was held (mostly) to discuss her new book Just Kids about her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe, also managed to shed light on a few more things you probably didn’t know about her:
- She’s hilarious. When moderator Paul Holdengraber would try to steer the conversation, James Lipton-style, into a somewhat solemn tone (“Patti, let’s talk about your yearnings as a child”), Smith’s reaction—a mugging to the audience—was almost sheer comedy cabaret.
- She possesses an infectious, childlike enthusiasm—when discussing in amazement how she viewed Virginia Woolf’s cane and Charlotte Bronte’s writing desk earlier in the day in the NYPL collection, one rather tends to forget that this is the woman who penned the controversial song “Rock ‘n’ Roll Nigger” back in the day. More than simply enthusiastic about her favorite topics, the woman is practically bubbly. “If we maintain radiance, often radiance will come our way,” she told the crowd.
- She wasn’t necessarily destined for music—perhaps it was the other way around. “You know, kid,” Smith deadpanned, channeling what her waitress mother had told Smith when she first moved to New York, “you’re never gonna make it as a waitress.” Lucky for us, her mother was prophetic.
But then again, music and poetry often tend to press the same buttons. Smith, who took the stage for three songs over the course of the event, described how music affects her. Upon first hearing an aria from Madame Butterfly as a child, she told of how that experience was equally moving to her as hearing Little Richard for the first time, calling both “a physical reaction—a sensual reaction as much as a child could have.” It’s a thread that seems to have weaved its way through her life. But even as she spoke of tragedy she’s faced, such as when she related the story of Mapplethorpe’s passing, Smith still managed to find the silver lining. She told of the morning she heard of Mapplethorpe’s death, and described hearing one of her favorite pieces by opera singer Maria Callas’ arias come on. The song? “I lived for art, I lived for love.”
Prophetic, indeed.
