|
Club 47 and the Early
Cambridge Folk Scene |
In the mid-fifties, the Club 47, in Cambridge’s Harvard Square,
was an oasis of progressive jazz as the first stirrings of the social
turmoil that swept the nation during the sixties began to surface in
the Deep South. On December 1, 1955, in Montgomery, Alabama, Ms. Rosa
Parks refused to move to the back of the bus and Three years later, a young Boston University student named Joan Baez talked her way onto the Club 47 stage where she puzzled the jazz crowd with a medley of Childe Ballads and Carter Family licks. The Club’s management liked the novelty but balked at her request to come back and play the next Sunday. They gave in, she packed the house with her friends, the show turned a profit, and the result was a regular Sunday afternoon gig to which she invited her sister, Mimi, her folk singing friends in and around Harvard Square and a Harvard grad by the name of Pete Seeger, son of a well-to-do family turned union organizing minstrel in the tradition of Joe Hill and the Wobblies. Thus was born the Cambridge folk revival, precursor of the nation’s folk revival that, a decade later, in Haight Ashbury, merged with the cultural underground in time for the Beatles’ release, in the summer of 1967, of Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
Mimi died last year, having, for many years, supported a number of
socially progressive causes. Tributes to her generosity poured in Mimi’s first husband, Richard Farina, was killed in a motorcylce
accident on the night that his novel, "Been Down So Long It Looks
Like Up To Me" hit the bookstands. Two of the three grandparents of the modern folk revival have New England connections: Peter Yarrow in Maine and Mary Travers in Connecticut. Though Paul Stookey hails from the Midwest, rumor has it that he’s currently at Northfield Mt. Hermon where his wife is serving as chaplain to students and faculty. Some years ago, a young man whose family summered in Franklin County looked up at the Savoy hills and down at the Shelburne Falls potholes and exclaimed, "Here is a land full of power and glory!" He turned that line into the refrain that became the theme song of his tragically short life. Phil Ochs was the first of that generation of folkies to leave this life, but he put a defining stamp on that turbulent era, inspired, in no small part, by the charm and grandeur of the Valley. |
Photo Credits |
©2002 by Ed Smith |
Hosted by Pioneer Valley Folklore Society |