The story of how Joni Mitchell made Joan Baez cry
Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez are each giants of the 1960s folk scene in their own right. While the former penned achingly vulnerable tales of love, loss and freedom to pair with her distinctive soft strums, the latter found her success in the art of the cover, breathing new life into protest songs and the works of Bob Dylan. As two women making their way in a male-dominated industry, you might expect that Mitchell and Baez sought to uplift one another in their work, but this wasn’t always the case.
There shouldn’t have been any competition between Baez and Mitchell. Although they shared a penchant for wavering vocals and folk soundscapes, they had entirely different artistic intentions. Mitchell always maintained a real focus on originality, infusing her work with her unique experiences and sonic experimentations. Meanwhile, Baez was borrowing from – and sometimes even bettering – the works of those around her.
Despite their wildly different approaches to music-making, there was still a sense of rivalry brewing between the two folk legends, perhaps spurred on by the difficulties of navigating the industry as a woman. “I always thought the women of song don’t get along, and I don’t know why that is,” Mitchell once told Mojo, before suggesting that Baez would have broken her leg if she could have, “or at least that’s the way it felt…”
It’s difficult to understand why the two female folk artists would have fostered competition rather than supporting one another’s endeavours. Though they were each pushing through barriers, paving the way for generations of women to wield guitars and share their emotions through song, they were yet to appreciate one another for doing so.
If Mitchell’s suggestion that Baez wanted to break her leg was once true, the covers connoisseur certainly seems to have mellowed on her feelings towards the California singer. When prompted to comment on the rivalry during an interview for The Guardian, Baez acknowledged her fierce approach to sonic success back in the 1960s but also made sure to share her admiration for Mitchell’s work.
“Did I see her as competition?” she reflected, “You know, it’s worse than that. I never thought I had any competition.” While Baez reaffirmed her belief that she had a singular singing voice, she also noted that Mitchell had a talent for songwriting that she couldn’t quite match, particularly at the beginning of her career. This certainly seems to be the distinction between the two – a singer and a songwriter.
The iciness between the pair certainly seems to have completely thawed now, as Baez also stated that she had been moved to tears by Mitchell – not by the rivalry between them, but by the beauty of her visual art. After stumbling across some of the folk artist’s paintings while seeking in-flight entertainment, Baez remembered giving Mitchell a ring to let her know just how affected she was by her work.
Over half a century on from the height of the movement that spawned them, Mitchell and Baez remain two of the most important figures not only in the folk scene, but in music history. Though the cutthroat and male-dominated nature of the industry may have pushed their relationship into competition in the 1960s, they since seem to have found an appreciation for one another’s work.
