50 Years of Woodstock - In One Day
Ok, so why all the hubbub about the 50th anniversary of Woodstock?
This isn’t a post about the Watkins Glen debacle (the upstate town otherwise known for its racetrack that was supposed to serve as the site of the 50th Anniversary celebration with a roster of performers that sounded too good to be true, because it was). Or the curious coincidence of the Carribean “Frye Festival” fiasco of a few years earlier - where tickets for the first “annual” concert were going for upwards of $12,000 for an event that turned out to be barely a blueprint. And let’s not forget the also-not-gonna-happen fourth annual “OZY Fest” in Central Park which was cancelled by Mayor de Blasé-o because it was too damn hot -- or because his presidential campaign stomping had him in Dubuque that weekend; we’ll never know for sure.
No, this isn’t a lament about the non-festivals of the twenty-teens. It’s about what did happen in Woodstock on the third weekend of August, 1969, and the same weekend 50 years later.
Before the mud at Woodstock ‘69
And 50 years later, Radio Woodstock 100.1 WDST concert at Utopia Sound Stage
“The town still retains much of its ‘69 feel, despite all the commercialism,” according to Ronald, my Uber driver who was at the original event 50 years ago by way of an entry-level radio station job. “My boss caught wind of something going on and thought we should be there. So I went.” With no ticket, no tent, no food, he went alright. His most overwhelming memory? “It smelled.” His second? “I wish I had saved some of the audio I took,” he lamented to me. But who knew? When I mentioned the station must surely still have whatever content he captured, he told me they changed hands so many times, nothing is left. Another remembrance? “I was an arm’s length from Janis Joplin on the stage.” As a resident of Woodstock for a few years, Ronald once ran into Bob Dylan, who also lived there, at “The Green” where he dropped me off. Also known to make the town home at one point or another were Van Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, David Bowie, Bonnie Raitt, Donald Fagen, and John Sebastian of the Lovin’ Spoonful who still lives there, according to Ronald.
Not Michael Moore, my Uber driver Ronald, who spent some years living in Woodstock and was at the 1969 event. So while I had Ronald, I thought I would get my facts straight about the ‘69 event. Why free? It wasn’t supposed to be. There were tickets sold for $3 a day, but when the crowds took over, they couldn’t continue to check everyone for tickets and basically said, F-it, it’s free. Of note, some tickets for the Watkins Glen spectacle were going for $1,000.
The original lineup in ‘69 - on a T-shirt from ‘19
Why Yasgur’s Farm? That’s not even in Woodstock! And who’s Yasgur? There were several music festivals in Woodstock before this one, but the organizers were looking for a bigger venue to hold about 20,000. 20,000! The actual turnout was more than 20 times that, despite Jimi Hendrix’s famous quote that it was over a million. So they stumbled upon a local farmer named Max Yasgur who had 600 acres to rent out in Bethel, NY. Bethel is 70 miles away from Woodstock, but Bethel just doesn’t roll off the tongue in quite the same way.
The real deal at Yasgur’s farm in ‘69 - from a friend who shall remain nameless as well as shirtless. I’d always thought the concert was actually held in Saugerties. What gives? Some pre-'69 Woodstock music events were held in Saugerties, and the 25th Anniversary of the concert was held there. Oh that must be it! Why did it become such a cultural milestone if there were already similar concerts before it? Ok, there’s been a lot written about this one, but here’s my take, eh, really Ronald’s. The cultural mood was ripe for it. People needed something - the Vietnam war, the civil rights movement - people were restless. A generation worshipping at the feet of Richie Havens, whose opening set contained the iconic “Freedom”, was yearning for just that. And somehow, the rain and the traffic and the music collectively conspired to create a muddy container within which 400,000+ hippies experienced three days of peace, love and their own form of sunshine.
Another shot from Woodstock ‘69
While those of us born too late may never fully appreciate its significance, here’s another explanation:
This plaque appears in a gallery in the Woodstock Playhouse, another cultural institution in the area where I stayed for the evening’s performance of “Hair” to round out my blast-from-the-past day.
Actors from “Hair” at the Woodstock Playhouse after the final verse of “Let the Sunshine In”, which included audience members, like me, on stage So, what did Woodstock the town do to celebrate Woodstock 50? Good question. When Ronald dropped me at The Green in the center of town, I only saw three violinists playing to a crowd of one, me. As I wandered the town, I saw the usual smattering of tourists, nothing out of the ordinary for an upstate tourist town in summer. Then I made my way up Rock Ridge Road and followed the sound of live music to the Colony - no doubt named for the artist colonies of Byrdcliffe and Maverick established there in the early 1900’s. Yes, Woodstock’s cultural history goes back to the turn of the last century.
There were some local acts performing on two sound stages, one for real bands and one for, let’s just say, amateurs. The only restriction for the smaller sound stage was that the performers had to be locals. ‘Nuff said.
Sensing there had to be something more going on in this town, on this weekend, I hitched a ride (ok, I befriended a young couple who were there celebrating their first anniversary and they gave me a ride) down about a mile and a half away to Bearsville, where Radio Woodstock was hosting the real celebration which included merchandise kiosks and food trucks. I wonder what the hippies would have thought of food trucks in 1969?
My “ride” making love not war, in front of a food truck
The '19 festival also featured a 30-minute film running on a loop that captured some of the highlights of the weekend 50 years earlier.
Was there any tie dye?
Yes. Lots.
So if the tumult of the late sixties led to Woodstock ‘69, what hope does our generation in ‘19 have to unite us in an era of climate change, mass shootings, and a president who boasts of his friendships with dictators who admittedly “meddle” with our democracy? In the age of iTunes, it’s likely not music. In the age of Facebook, where everyone's life is already a “story”, it’s likely not the written word or photography.
Let’s just hope our collective container comes from looking backward, not living in a virtual reality as depicted by Netflix shows like Black Mirror. They say, everything old is new again. Perhaps that will prove to be true about the lessons learned from Woodstock ‘69.
These characters already seem to get it…
Dig those locks!
Where’s the farm?
The author in front of an authentic VW bug from the era, no Deadheads to be found. Well, maybe a few.