By Thomas Conner
© Tulsa World The Woody Guthrie Archives isn't anything fancy, which is in keeping with the lifestyle of the archives' namesake. The collection is not under heavy guard, under glass or even — thanks to Nora Guthrie's efforts — under wraps. The archives is really just a bunch of filing cabinets in a cramped, stuffy two-room office in midtown Manhattan, open for public perusal as long as you make an appointment. Nora Guthrie, Woody's daughter, runs the place, and she's not too fancy, either. She's about as open and honest and casual a professional as you can find. Of course, there again the terminology doesn't do the situation justice. Nora doesn't run anything at all — she inspires, enthralls, educates, grounds and delights all visitors and staff members. A remarkably engaging, uplifting woman, she oversees the use of Guthrie's backlog of songs, poetry and prose. Those cabinets are stuffed to overflowing with pages of Woody's work — some of it intended for public consumption, a lot of it scribbled down just to get it out of his ever-bubbling brain. Nora already has guided British folk-rocker Billy Bragg and American roots band Wilco through the stacks; the results were the two "Mermaid Avenue" albums, featuring tuneless, old Woody lyrics with new music. Many more such projects are in the pipeline. The exhibition that soon will be showing at the Oklahoma Historical Society in Oklahoma City, "This Land Is Your Land: The Life and Legacy of Woody Guthrie," was culled from this resource. The show has been touring museums across the country for more than two years; its Oklahoma stop — in Guthrie's home state — is likely its last. Bringing the show here was a challenge, though. I talked with Nora last week about the exhibit, its challenges, and why Oklahoma has been so resistant for so long to welcoming home its most talented native son: Let me start with my basic question right now: was Woody an Oklahoman? With an accent like that — are you kidding? What's always fascinated me about Woody is that he left the state as a teenager, yet everything he wrote, said and sang for the rest of his life was clearly influenced by his Oklahoma roots. That's always interested me, too. To be honest, I've always felt like we were his step-family, in a way — that we were kind of holding onto him until Oklahoma finally takes him back. Everything he did and fought for had to do with the basic values he learned in Oklahoma. When I lecture in Oklahoma, I tell people, "You think he's talking about other people's rights and other people's problems, but he was talking about your grandfather" — and I point at them — "and your aunt and your cousin." These were his people. "Everything he wrote, especially the early songs, was about your family." He wasn't that expanded back then. What did he know from America? All he knew was that someone's grandmother lost the farm or someone's cousin was done wrong. Everything he cared about came from his love for Oklahoma and then became explained and justified by the rest of his life. When he finally traveled to other places, he found that they were having the same problems, so he could become this spokesperson for America — the people, not the land or the landscape. Why did he return home so rarely? Well, there were family and political problems that were a big part of that, but the biggest part was the Huntington's disease. There was this cosmic understanding that took place between him and my mother (Marjorie Guthrie) that she was his caretaker because he couldn't go home. He was in exile. I don't think he ever used that word, but there was definitely an emotional exile that he felt — and was bewildered by, to be quite honest. He was always from Oklahoma and always wrote about it and put it in context. When he wrote about New York, it was in the context of "look at me, I'm a big hick, and I'm getting on this crazy underground train." He always contextualized himself. But he couldn't go home. Until now. The annual folk festival in Okemah has welcomed his spirit home, and perhaps the exhibition will, too. It almost didn't happen, though. It was my wish that this touring show open in Oklahoma two years ago. When I first put it together, that was the only thought I ever had. I was innocent and naive, I'm confessing, but I thought, "Great, we'll have this show, and it'll open in Oklahoma." I mean, where else would you open it? This is the place. If Walt Whitman or any other major American figure had a major exhibit, wouldn't you think it would be welcomed in their hometown? Isn't that why Salinas (Calif.) has that huge thing for Steinbeck? Everyone wants to cheer their homeboy. But not in Oklahoma, not for a long time, anyway. So what went wrong? We had it booked in the Cowboy Hall of Fame (in Oklahoma City). We were planning things — a big concert, some other events. It was going to have this kind of reborn feeling, like he's back and let's finally give birth to Woody in Oklahoma and say, "Yes, he's from here." A couple of months before it was supposed to open, we got a call from the museum backing out. They gave some vague reasons about scheduling conflicts and then about funding, but I didn't even listen to it because I knew it was politics. I just thought, gosh, I'm fiftysomething now, hasn't anything changed out there in all this time? Isn't there a new generation there who can stand up and recognize that this guy was from Oklahoma and he doesn't have to be the star of the state, but you could at least say, "I might not like his politics, but what a great writer"? Where did the exhibition open? In California, at the Steinbeck museum. And it turned out to be really special there, after all. Lefty Lou (Crisman, Woody's former radio show partner) came, and she said to me, "How did you know to open it in L.A.?" I didn't understand her, and she told me this story. She said, "When we had the radio show at KFVD, every afternoon for lunch Woody and I would come out to that rock over there" — we were standing outside the Steinbeck center — "and eat. We would hike up there every single day for lunch, walk around the hills, then go back and do the afternoon show." So the exhibition opened on that site where they spent so many afternoons, and she thought I'd done that on purpose. It wound up having its own significance. Still, I always hoped it would make it to Oklahoma. Like most of Woody's stuff, this exhibition has been a sleeper. We had trouble getting it started, and we had to put up the money ourselves to get it into New York. It turned out to be such a huge success there that the director of the museum came up to me one evening and said, "Nora, I was so skeptical. I didn't think this show was going to be that good. That's why we didn't push to raise the funds for it. But the public response has been so amazing, we've had more attendance for this than anything else this year. If I could do it again, I'd double-book it. I just didn't get it." You know, these people study charts and financial reports, and they don't get the people. They're not connected, and this was maybe a good lesson in that regard. What turned the tide to allow the show to come here? Once it caught on elsewhere, we found some friends in the Oklahoma Historical Society and the state arts council there. It just took a couple of years. It was about that amount of time that the festival in Okemah really took off, too, so I guess it just takes time. It' so typical of Woody's personality, you know. He was always a sleeper. He'd slip into a room and say something, and two people would pay attention, then a few more, then a few more, until he had the whole place in the palm of his hand. Woody Guthrie exhibit to open Friday The Smithsonian Institution's acclaimed exhibition, "This Land Is Your Land: The Life and Legacy of Woody Guthrie," opens Friday at the Oklahoma Museum of History in Oklahoma City. The exhibit explores the life of the native Oklahoman songwriter, author of such well-known tunes as "Union Maid," "So Long, It's Been Good to Know You" and "This Land Is Your Land." The show offers material from the Woody Guthrie Archives and the Smithsonian Institution, including original manuscripts, drawings, sound recordings and some film. The show — organized by Nora Guthrie, his daughter and executive director of the archives, and the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service (SITES) — has been ramblin' round the country for two years. This stop in Guthrie's home state will be its last. Guthrie was born in the town of Okemah in 1912. He traveled the country writing songs much of his life, many of those journeys with dispossessed Okies in the 1930s. He lived in New York City in the last years of his life, many of which were in hospitals before he died in 1967 of complications from Huntington's disease. He wrote thousands of songs before he died, most of which remain collected in the Woody Guthrie Archives. The exhibit will remain on view through May 4. The museum is located in the Wiley Post Building, just SE of the state capitol at 2100 N. Lincoln Boulevard in Oklahoma City. For more information, contact the museum at (405) 522-5248 or email [email protected]. Comments are closed.
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Thomas Conner
These online "clips" reproduce a self-selection of my journalism (music etc) during the last 20+ years. It's a lotta stuff, but it only scratches the surface. I do not currently possess the time or resources to digitize the whole body of work. These posts are simply a bunch of pretty great days at the office. Archives
September 2024
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