They Can't Hide Us Anymore.

They Can't Hide Us Anymore by Richie Havens with Steve Davidowitz HarperEntertainment, May 2000, $14.00, ISBN 0-380-80378-X

The gulf between militant nationalism and militant integrationism or multiculturalism often seems much wider than it is. Few artists of color have been able to sustain careers without some level of white support, no matter how fiery their rhetoric, and the peaceful warriors have faced down death equally, in protests large and small. The songs of black folks are embodied in an extraordinary range of music and poetry. But over the years some forms have been more privileged than others, reducing our understanding of who we are as makers of a culture whose impact is global and what we can become.

While reading Haven's book I was struck by how little we know of the peace warriors--the men and women whose protest songs and folk music evoke a time of radical change and extraordinary leadership. Haven's own music, which combines spirituals, blues, ballads and contemporary pop songs, is a witness to our changing times.

Although there are volumes on many aspects of black music, there is little that the general reader will find on blacks in folk music. Havens opens this territory, providing a glimpse into the world where questioning authority, honing ambition, fighting for change and surviving horrifying acts of violence was the norm for Afro-Bohemia during the sixties. Havens is still going strong and his powerful ambition is evident in this volume, as he guides readers through these cultural crossroads as a self-appointed cultural ambassador.

Throughout the book, Havens is cast as a Zelig-like figure. He seems to have met, hung out with, or produced work with every mainstream counter-culture great from Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix and Peter, Paul and Mary to Liza Minelli. What really distinguishes Afro-Bohemia is Haven's written recollection of a diverse community of downtown musicians, many of them black and almost all forgotten. One well-known poet and songwriter turns out to be Lou Gossett, Jr. Gossett actually wrote one of Havens' best-known songs, "Handsome Johnny," an enthralling anti-war song.

Unfortunately, the book often suffers from a workmanlike prose that does not always give justice to Haven's anecdotes. Even the story of his participation in Woodstock suffers from an odd mix of generalities about the war, protest and the desire for community, along with personal asides. At times, it seems the book's entire focus discourages deeper attention to other important aspects of his life and career.

Part of the problem is its diffuse point of view. While covering Havens' career and viewpoints on social issues, his childhood, family life and children are all relatively consigned to index. Here the book misses a great opportunity to create a fuller portrait of an important black artist's journey through life and music.

The strength of Afro-Bohemia lies in Havens' adept illustration of how little we know about the performing artists who worked outside of African American cultural conventions, but whose contribution to our cultural practice is incalcuable. Havens' lack of in-depth examination begs for others to take up the mantle and address this absence. A critical look into other aspects of black artistic contributions to American popular culture, with all of its freedoms and pitfalls, is sorely needed. The crux is that without Havens' book, many may not have even noticed its absence.

Patricia Spears Jones is a poet, playwright and author of The Weather That Kills (Coffee House Press, 1995) and Mother, a play produced by Mabou Mines in 1994. Her poetry has been anthologized over the past two decades, most recently in Best American Poetry 2000. She has taught at Parsons School of Design and Sarah Lawrence College and The Poetry Project. Ms. Spears Jones leads off our Rhythm and Books section with a review of Afrobohemia legend Richie Havens on page 66.