This may be the most remarkable photograph I’ve ever been part of:
Here’s how it came about.
When I was president of PEN America, I argued that we lived in a great age of lyrics writing - Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, Holland-Dozier-Holland of Motown fame, as well as several of the folks pictured above - and we should expand the definition of literary excellence to include this work. In the end, the goal was achieved after my presidency ended, by PEN’s New England branch in Boston, and a jury was convened. This was the jury, convened by music industry good guy extraordinaire Bill Flanagan, author, journalist, ex-MTV and VH1 exec, radio host, etc etc: Bono, Rosanne Cash, Elvis Costello, Smokey Robinson, Paul Simon, the poet Paul Muldoon, and me. We decided, to lend drama to the event, that instead of giving out one award a year we would give out two every two years. In that first year, after much discussion. we settled on Chuck Berry and Leonard Cohen as the first recipients.
The award event took place at the John F. Kennedy Library in Boston, introduced by Caroline Kennedy, and almost everybody came (Bono and Smokey couldn’t make it). And there was a surprise guest. Keith Richards showed up to support and applaud Chuck Berry.
The two had famously fallen out during the making of the film Hail, Hail, Rock ‘n’ Roll, and hadn’t seen each other since, so Keith’s appearance was a nice olive branch. Chuck, who was 85, seemed to have a poor memory of the past. After Keith greeted him in the green room and congratulated him, Mr Berry, with furrowed brow, asked, “Hey… did we have a problem?”
Never mind that, Keith assured him. Old story, water under the bridge, and so on.
“Yeah,” Chuck Berry mused, “but we had a problem.”
Again Keith very generously reassured him. That’s unimportant, I’m just here to celebrate you, let bygones be bygones.
“Hm,” Chuck said. “So… we don’t have a problem?”
Then we went out to meet the audience and the ceremonies began.
My job that evening was to present Leonard Cohen with his award. I remember that I quoted a few famous lines from “Bird on the Wire” - “Like a bird on the wire/ Like a drunk in a midnight choir/ I have tried, in my way, to be free”, and said, “Put simply, if I could write like that, I would.” The great man must have liked what I said, because when I presented him with his medal…
…HE KISSED ME. (Actually, this may be the most remarkable photograph I’ve ever been in. )
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In his remarks, Leonard Cohen spoke very appreciatively about Chuck Berry. “If Beethoven hadn’t rolled over,” he said, “there wouldn’t have been room for any of us.”
Then it was Paul Simon’s turn to praise Chuck and give him his medal. Paul had prepared some beautiful, thoughtful remarks, but he was interrupted a few times by Chuck Berry saying, “Can’t hear a thing!” (I guess he was having problems with his hearing aid.)
And after he received his medal, he said, “I don’t want to make a speech.” Well, okay, we thought, you don’t have to. Then he gestured to Elvis Costello, who was on stage with the other musicians to play some of the award-winners’ songs. “Let me have your guitar,” he said.
And then he played, and sang, Johnny B. Goode.
When the presentations were over, it was time for music. Chuck Berry, Leonard Cohen, Elvis Costello, Paul Simon, Shawn Colvin… quite a supergroup. And then the audience began shouting for Keith, and in the end he couldn’t resist their demands, and went up on to the stage as well. What followed was perhaps the most astonishing jam session I’ve ever seen.
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Sadly, after three iterations, PEN America seems to have put this award on ice. Too bad, I say. If you’re listening, PEN America, let’s all do it again. And again. Hail, hail, rock ‘n’ roll.
And here, thanks to a sleuth on Twitter, is the YouTube film of the whole event!
I, and the six people I shared this with, thank you for your generous sharing.
A kiss from Leonard Cohen?! Lucky man!