A night in the life

With the shadow of the most political Beatle hanging over her forever, Yoko Ono is as enigmatic as her name is familiar. But a few facts about her—that she studied opera, performed with John Cage and was already a divisive avant-garde star before she met John Lennon—help create a fuller picture. Ono’s music has been reappraised in recent years with reissues, the recent collaborative album Yes, I’m a Witch and the dance remix album Open Your Box. We called her up in anticipation of her Pitchfork Music Festival performance this weekend and found her more mercurial than outspoken.

Can you name any acts at Pitchfork that you are anxious to see?
I don’t know; I’m gonna be the last gig or something, right? I’ll be sticking around watching everything, I suppose, but maybe I might become too nervous. Usually I’ll be waiting in a small room or something until my performance.

Are there any sort of bands that you feel a kinship with these days?
I put together a collection of music for XM: I did a series of three nights, and I put all the indie songs in it, too. One was political, one was women singers, and the third was indies [indie rock bands]. It all showed where I stand now. I’m not just interested in indies, but I’m totally interested in indies in the sense that a lot of people still don’t know [about independent music] and you just have to sort of bring it out. The political songs were from way back, as well. With music, I don’t feel I have a particular section I like; I just love it all.

What political songs are still meaningful today?
All political songs are meaningful, in a way, because that songwriter had to think, “Okay, I’m gonna write something political.” It’s a real stand, you know; It’s a gamble in a way, too. Political songs are not really known to be commercial.

With Open Your Box and the recent remixes of your stuff, I feel like you’re sort of a…
Come on, what, what?

…an elder statesperson to the dance scene.
I don’t feel that way at all; that’s your take on me. I feel like I’m just an up-and-coming artist that people don’t really know. I’m less known than the Flaming Lips and Cat Power and those people. They’re really the superstars of indie, and I’m not yet.

Are any of your records becoming more relevant today? I was thinking of the techy reggae on your 1985 album Starpeace.
I know, isn’t that great, Starpeace? I mean now, it’s good. But the thing is when I put that out, oh my god, I was really attacked, you know.

Can you shed any light on your ’60s art performances, like the “Wrapping Event,” when you wrapped the lions in London’s Trafalgar Square in white cloth?
Yeah, yeah. That was then; I just felt like doing it and I did it. I’m like that: Things don’t stick with me; I just go on changing and doing things, which is what I like about myself. I don’t want to go back to forty years ago and explain the emotion that I had then. It just had to do with emotional expression, I think.

I was thinking that your legendary “bed-in” with John Lennon could work today.
A few people [I’ve heard about] now suggested wanting to do it today. There’s a couple that did it in Britain very recently. I think that there was some big organization that said they were trying to do it. But the reason I think that they thought finally, “Well, maybe we can’t do this,” is that the bed-in is a very, very, intense experience. Most people say, “Oh, bed-in—ha ha,” like it’s fun, it’s funny. But no: You’re sitting in bed and [the press] are asking questions, the questions are coming to you like machine guns and it’s all day. It takes somebody like John and me—especially John—to fill it in. You can’t just say a one-liner to the reporter who’s been there waiting an hour. So, it’s a very heavy game. It takes a certain kind of person to do it.

It was very confrontational at the time.
Very much so. The other side of it is, if you just announce that you’re having a bed-in, that’s very effective. You don’t have to invite all the reporters to ask you questions. That’s another way of doing it. It would be great if people started doing it.

Or you could do bed-ins over the Internet now.
That’s true, ha. Just someone saying, “We’re doing a bed-in,” just an announcement like that, is going to help the world.

Do you have any Chicago experiences?
When I went to Chicago with John, I don’t know why we went. I was shown Lake Michigan. I think it was written in brochures, or somebody told us, “It’s as big as an ocean.” I was inspired by Lake Michigan to write “Walking On Thin Ice” [from 1982 album Walking on Thin Ice]. Listen to it at the end, when I’m saying, “As big as an ocean.” Where else is there a lake that’s as big as an ocean? I think it’s very unique. I saw this beautiful, beautiful lake all iced up and this girl was walking… this girl, meaning me, probably.

We can claim that as another song about Chicago.—John Dugan