The life-changing moment Joni Mitchell met Charles Mingus
Occasionally, creative souls instantly click with one another upon their first meeting. When this seemingly unexplainable situation takes place, it deserves to be cherished because it doesn’t often happen – in life and in the career of an artist. For Joni Mitchell, this occurred when she first crossed paths with the jazz pianist Charles Mingus. This meeting proved so seismic that she would later dedicate an album to the maestro in 1979.
The two musicians came from distinctly different worlds, and it was an unlikely collaboration on paper, but it worked. After being diagnosed with motor neuron disease in 1976, Mingus’ body was sadly unable to make the art that his mind was still dreaming up. He was forced to bring in another musician to pluck his vision to life. He’d heard of Mitchell’s album Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter, which saw the singer move further into jazz following Hejira. It was a decision that left her folk roots behind.
While Mingus was impressed with Mitchell’s decision to enter his sonic wheelhouse, he was less dazzled by her precision. However, the most critical aspect of the album from his perspective was Mitchell’s willingness to throw herself into a new environment. Mingus believed that with his guidance and imagination, the pair would concoct a winning creative formula.
In the liner notes of Mitchell’s album, Mingus, she wrote: “The first time I saw his face, it shone up at me with a joyous mischief. I liked him immediately. I had come to New York to hear six new songs he had written for me. I was honoured! I was curious! It was as if I had been standing by a river – one toe in the water – feeling it out – and Charlie came by and pushed me in – ‘sink or swim’ – him laughing at me dog paddling around in the currents of black classical music.”
Heartbreakingly, Mingus wasn’t alive to witness the release of their collaboration after he tragically passed away at the start of 1979, aged 56. The musician had travelled to Mexico to receive treatment for his condition, but he soon passed away while in the country. At the time, the finishing touches were still being put on the project, and it was heartbreaking for Mitchell that Mingus didn’t hear their creation.
She continued in the liner notes: “Time never ticked so loudly for me as it did this last year. I wanted Charlie to witness the project’s completion. He heard every song but one – GOD MUST BE A BOOGIE MAN. I know it would have given him a chuckle. Inspired by the first four pages of his autobiography – Beneath The Underdog – on the night of our first meeting – it was the last to actually take form – two days after his death.”
In the final verse of the track, Mitchell sings: “Which would it be, Mingus, one or two or three, Which one do you think he’d want, The world to see, Well, world opinion’s not a lot of help, When a man’s only trying to find out, How to feel about himself.”
Mitchell concluded her liner notes by writing: “This was a difficult but challenging project. I was trying to please Charlie and still be true to myself. I cut each song three or four times. I was after something personal – something mutual – something indescribable. During these experimental recording dates, I had the opportunity to play with some great musicians. I would like to thank them here – they helped me to search.”
If it wasn’t for Mingus’ deteriorating health condition, he’d have never reached out to Mitchell about a possible collaboration. However, this unexpected call from the pianist proved critical in developing her artistry, as Mitchell took her career to that next step and waved goodbye to being a folkie. Nevertheless, transcendence clearly remained at the core of her work.
