Why Joni Mitchell considered herself to be anti-intellectual: “I’d rather be dancing”
Few people would consider Joni Mitchell to be anti-intellectual. Her songwriting is infused with poetry and purpose, weaving words into intricate tapestries of meaning and emotion that stay with you long after a track ends. From freedom to climate change, she tackles huge themes with unparalleled intention and artistic prowess.
In ‘Big Yellow Taxi’, for example, Mitchell considers the environment and the human tendency to destroy it. As she sings of feigned ownership and insecticides, she delivers simultaneously gorgeous and sobering lines like, “They paved paradise, put up a parking lot.” On ‘For the Roses’, she addresses the music industry with equal mastery, detailing the sector’s movement from creativity to commercialism in just under four minutes.
Her songwriting may seem intellectual to an outsider, but Mitchell didn’t see herself that way initially. Before she was penning pieces filled to the brim with poetry and protest, she was dodging deeper topics in favour of uninhibited dance and art.
As the songwriter recalled during an interview from the Joe Smith Collection via Blank on Blank, Mitchell never really enjoyed school. Rather than thriving in academia, she was far more interested in putting paintbrush to canvas, describing herself as a “Good Time Charlie” and remembering how she wrote book reports on classic comics.
“I was anti-intellectual to the nth,” Mitchell shrugged, “Basically, I liked to dance and paint, and that was about it.” Disavowing those teenagers who sat around trying to solve the “problems of the world,” Mitchell decided that she would much prefer to dance than debate.
Although she may have prioritised painting over politics, she did discover a love for writing poetry during this time. A high school play prompted her to write a poem about heartbreak and Hollywood, and the rest was history. Mitchell would go on to publish several poetry collections over the course of career, as well as infusing her literary prowess into her lyrics.
She may have shrugged off poetry and politics in her youth, but they would both come to define her esteemed career. As she entered the folk movement in the United States, protest pieces would become a part of her repertoire in tracks like ‘The Fiddle and the Drum’, an anti-war song, and ‘Sex Kills’, which considered justice.
She may not have been interested in solving the problems of the world as a teen, but she certainly wanted to tackle them in her songwriting. Her growing penchant for poetry would also find its way into her sonic musings, with her distinctive literary writing style coming to define her artistry.
Mitchell’s songs may seem to come straight from the heart, spilling over in vulnerability and sentiment, but they’re carefully considered and crafted all the same. They’re emotional and intellectual at the same time, drawing out real feelings into their fullest form with adept storytelling and poetic prowess.
It’s this ability to convey emotion so seamlessly that has endeared Mitchell to generations of listeners. Decades on from the release of Blue and Court and Spark, her words still resonate with audiences, at once intellectual and universal, even if she might have once disputed the former. Fortunately, she pushed through her hatred for politics and academia to deliver one of the most beloved catalogues of all time.
