beat scene

The Patti Smith Group broke up in 1979 and Smith spent the '80s raising a family, releasing only Dream of Life, in 1988. In 1993, Smith made her first public reappearance at New York's Summer Stage. There are several explanations for her time away from the public arena, but Smith is hardly talking. Whatever the reasons, they only make her more enigmatic.

It's been decades since she performed in the Boston area and the audience was understandably captivated. Although she exuded every bit of the freedom and individualism her work is known for, her maternal side emerged when she talked about how pollution should be the focus of popular concern.

The crowd asked about how to deal with the Pope's visit and the O.J. Simpson media frenzy. "One polluted stream means more than all that," she said. The church setting amplified her shamanistic qualities making her performance a resurrection of sorts. The show was magical without being fanatic.

Smith adroitly deflected attention from herself to others such as Mapplethorpe and Shepard. She read one of Kerouac's poems and credited 10,000 Maniacs with "Because the Night," a song she wrote with Bruce Springsteen. Janet Hamill, Smith's good friend and 'mentor' opened the reading with her own sensual descriptions of art and landscapes.

But Smith was too self-critical to seem extraordinary. While her assistants located her books and glasses, she mocked how unprofessional the gig was and admonished the audience not to tolerate it. With people seated on the floor in front of her, the set had a folksy feel, like a campfire gathering.

Still, the crowd made it clear that the evening should contain moments of nastiness. Smith herself was cautious, wanting to be respectful of the church while joking that if her act lasted past midnight (which it did) then it would mean everyone watching would be in church on Sunday. "Just remember," she said, "This is art. No wait, I shouldn't say that. This is an attempt at art."

For the first 40 minutes of the hour and a half show, Smith read from Early Works 1970-1979. Opening with an early poem, "Ballad of a Bad Boy," her jagged voice revealed her hard-core side--the punk Smith, utterly defiant and deviant.

Later, she wielded a guitar she said was out of tune. Smith's voice, however, was in fine form. It became a ratty snarl when she sang "Dylan's Dog," but in other tunes such as "About a Boy," a song off her upcoming album, she had all the resonance of a harmonica. Her voice rose octaves and at points even seemed to purr.

Guitarist Lenny Kaye, a longtime member of the Patti Smith Group, accompanied Smith for most of the songs. Towards the set's end, Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore came out with another acoustic guitar; the unplugged session produced had soulful harmony.

Whether she was interrupting herself, taking notes, or telling witty anecdotes, Smith's stream-of-consciouness style was thoroughly enjoyable. After she elaborately introduced one work, just as she was about to begin, her mood changed and she read a more mischievous one, "Cowboy Truths." While reading it, she also sang the refrain, exemplifying just how easily her lyrics translate into music.

In the '70s, Smith produced a brand-new fusion of poetry and rock 'n' roll. Now, twenty years later, she's an icon reemerging as a performer. Her reappearance on the scene creates, in Smith's own words, "a sea of possibilities."

The Patti Smith Group broke up in 1979 and Smith spent the '80s raising a family, releasing only Dream of Life, in 1988. In 1993, Smith made her first public reappearance at New York's Summer Stage. There are several explanations for her time away from the public arena, but Smith is hardly talking. Whatever the reasons, they only make her more enigmatic.

It's been decades since she performed in the Boston area and the audience was understandably captivated. Although she exuded every bit of the freedom and individualism her work is known for, her maternal side emerged when she talked about how pollution should be the focus of popular concern.

The crowd asked about how to deal with the Pope's visit and the O.J. Simpson media frenzy. "One polluted stream means more than all that," she said. The church setting amplified her shamanistic qualities making her performance a resurrection of sorts. The show was magical without being fanatic.

Smith adroitly deflected attention from herself to others such as Mapplethorpe and Shepard. She read one of Kerouac's poems and credited 10,000 Maniacs with "Because the Night," a song she wrote with Bruce Springsteen. Janet Hamill, Smith's good friend and 'mentor' opened the reading with her own sensual descriptions of art and landscapes.

But Smith was too self-critical to seem extraordinary. While her assistants located her books and glasses, she mocked how unprofessional the gig was and admonished the audience not to tolerate it. With people seated on the floor in front of her, the set had a folksy feel, like a campfire gathering.

Still, the crowd made it clear that the evening should contain moments of nastiness. Smith herself was cautious, wanting to be respectful of the church while joking that if her act lasted past midnight (which it did) then it would mean everyone watching would be in church on Sunday. "Just remember," she said, "This is art. No wait, I shouldn't say that. This is an attempt at art."

For the first 40 minutes of the hour and a half show, Smith read from Early Works 1970-1979. Opening with an early poem, "Ballad of a Bad Boy," her jagged voice revealed her hard-core side--the punk Smith, utterly defiant and deviant.

Later, she wielded a guitar she said was out of tune. Smith's voice, however, was in fine form. It became a ratty snarl when she sang "Dylan's Dog," but in other tunes such as "About a Boy," a song off her upcoming album, she had all the resonance of a harmonica. Her voice rose octaves and at points even seemed to purr.

Guitarist Lenny Kaye, a longtime member of the Patti Smith Group, accompanied Smith for most of the songs. Towards the set's end, Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore came out with another acoustic guitar; the unplugged session produced had soulful harmony.

Whether she was interrupting herself, taking notes, or telling witty anecdotes, Smith's stream-of-consciouness style was thoroughly enjoyable. After she elaborately introduced one work, just as she was about to begin, her mood changed and she read a more mischievous one, "Cowboy Truths." While reading it, she also sang the refrain, exemplifying just how easily her lyrics translate into music.

In the '70s, Smith produced a brand-new fusion of poetry and rock 'n' roll. Now, twenty years later, she's an icon reemerging as a performer. Her reappearance on the scene creates, in Smith's own words, "a sea of possibilities."