Today is the birthday of John Lennon, amazingly also his son Sean’s birthday, too. John would have been 84 today, and it’s heartbreaking and fascinating to think about the music he would have been creating, the action he would have been taking had he been here with us today. In his memory, the world continues to celebrate and honor him, and today is a day that is very special in this remembrance, especially in places that he spent much of his time, like right here in New York City.
One of my favorite annual activities is to visit Strawberry Fields in Central Park on this day. Whether it’s morning or night, just follow the sound. You will find people gathered there with all kinds of instruments, and surrounding a candlelit and flower lain Imagine memorial mosaic, you can join a joyful crowd of strangers in singing Beatles and John Lennon songs for hours on end. I went last year and posted these words along with some videos on my Instagram:
The first time I ever went to Strawberry Fields for this annual singalong was when I was 16 and my mom brought me. It was 20 years ago today, and one of my most special memories of New York City with her, of NYC in general, a magical day that stands out strongly as a core memory of my life. I still remember the faces and which songs we sang, the feeling of awe among strangers, as if we all knew it was a moment we would want to always remember. The only difference is there weren’t smart phones back then, but the connection and joy was the same.
Now that I read this again, I think I might have actually been 15 on that first visit, but I can’t be completely sure. Either way, I will visit Strawberry Fields again today, and I am sure the feeling of collective warmth will remain the same as it always was. Have you ever been there on this day? Or any other day? How do you feel when you’re there?
On John’s birthday and also on December 8, the day he died, I always think of the song Imagine as so many of us do. This song means a great deal to me, as of course it does for generations of people all over the world. I’m sure so many of you reading have your own stories and memories tied with Imagine. I would love to read about those stories in the comments. I also wanted to share my story around it with you all now, of how it began and of how it continues. So please join me on a visit through time in honor of John, in honor of Imagine on his birthday.
When I was in middle school and high school, I loved being in musicals. They were one of the only community based activities at that time that brought me a sense of great joy, that I looked forward to, that made me feel engaged and excited to work. When I was in 10th grade, our school’s musical director wrote a play about the history of rock n’ roll, which I wrote about in a January post in honor of Mary Weiss. I had a small part as a Shangri-La, though my main role in the production was as John Lennon, performing in Act 1 singing ‘Hard Day’s Night’ with the rest of the Beatles, and in Act 2 singing and playing ‘Imagine’ on my own.
Julia Collura, our director, was also my piano teacher, and I wrote about her in an April post for the 20th anniversary of my mom’s album, Trampin’. At the insistence of my 8th grade music teacher (thank you, Jennifer!), I started piano lessons with Julia when I was 13, and though I wasn’t a great student in terms of practicing, having this introduction and laying a foundation of piano really did enhance and change my life forever. The way she believed in me at that time wasn’t something I was fully aware of, the way she pushed me forward because she knew I could do better, even getting frustrated at times when I acted as a distracted and impatient teenager. She stayed on me when I faltered, she taught me to stop apologizing for imperfection, she gave me room and time when I was nervous, and she gave me this opportunity when I was 15 to portray John, which meant learning to play and sing Imagine, performing by myself on stage as a musician for the very first time.
All of those school productions were filmed, and I’m sure I could contact someone with access to the archives, but even if I can’t, the memory of performing that song is still so alive in my mind. I was dressed in a white suit and tie, a long brown wig, round rim Windsor glasses that I still have. There was a white upright piano and a microphone on a boom stand. It was the second to last number of the show, and while the different acts were introduced and connected by the thread of ‘broadcasts’ from beloved radio hosts through the decades, Julia decided that John and Imagine needed no introduction. She instructed me to walk to the front of the stage and to stand silently for a few moments in front of of the audience before turning to take my seat at the piano beneath a single spotlight. I remember my 15 year old self feeling embarrassed at rehearsals, not wanting to stand there silently in front of the crowd for no reason. As an adult, I understand completely her choice, and I imagine that somehow it was an emotional moment for the audience, comprised mostly of parents and teachers and friends of our families. The music we shared was mostly from their own generation, and a moment to remember John, even portrayed by a 15 year old in a wig, would most definitely be an emotional moment, a touching portal to access personal memories and remembrances from another time.
I was proud of that experience, and I knew in the moments when I took the stage that it was something profound for me, though I didn’t quite know why. Playing that song on piano and singing those words, I knew it was an important song, and I knew the message was something much bigger than us all. I wouldn’t sing a song alone onstage for another 16 years, but Imagine became very meaningful to me.
It was because of that musical that my mom took me to Strawberry Fields for the first time, on October 9, his birthday. I was taking a photography/dark room class at school and I brought my film camera with me, though I didn’t know what to expect.
The memory of this day is very special to me. The music, the faces, the light. I had never seen anything like this, a spontaneous gathering of strangers, connected by the knowledge of lyrics and melodies. No leader present, no stage or central point. Nobody knew each other, but everyone remembered John. There was this slight element of shyness amongst everyone, but everyone also looked like they felt kind of cool, part of something special, like a secret club that’s actually open to everyone. Collective consciousness and undeniable camaraderie. I remember specific smiles and songs so clearly, and I can still access the way I felt in my body. I was in total awe, completely at peace. I was impressed by New York and I knew in that moment I was standing exactly where I was supposed to be standing. It was the perfect day.
I remember taking the photos with my camera, seeing the negatives of my film roll, processing them in the school’s dark room. I remember my contact sheets, circling favorite images with my teacher, printing my pictures, I remember looking at them. I don’t know what ever happened to the prints, if I still have them somewhere, buried in the drawer of high school archives. Even if I don’t find them, I remember that day as though I had the photographs to spark my memories now. It’s like the school performance - remembering without visual proof. I remember the feeling, I know the profound ways in which these moments changed my life, and I’m aware of the fact that all of these experiences have probably impacted me in ways I’ll never know, unable to express or measure.
In 2004 when I was 16, my mom and I were invited to perform for John’s birthday at the Free Library of Philadelphia. Since I had learned to play Imagine, we were excited to perform for the first time together, just the two of us. There were a lot of firsts during this time. It was earlier that year that we recorded Trampin’, my first time recording in a studio. Our playing Imagine at the Free Library was my first live performance outside of a musical, my first ‘professional’ experience playing piano, and my first time performing live with my mom. I do have a cassette tape of that, though I’ve never listened to it, perhaps for now more special as an object than a piece of audio.
(I wanted to put a photo here of the cassette, which for as long as I can remember has been on top of a dresser. I knew the moment I stepped into my room that I had recently put it somewhere new for ‘safekeeping,’ which of course means that now I haven’t the slightest idea where it is. Why do we do this to ourselves?? In the search I did find the below photo, though and that was a nice surprise that I wouldn’t of found have I not been looking for the cassette picture :) )
More Moments of Imagine <3
In honor of International Women’s Day on March 8, 2017, Pathway to Paris released a live recording from a 2016 event on the first evening of Climate Week NYC. There are 6 of us singing - Suzzy Roche, Martha Wainwright, Lucy Wainwright Roche, Nicole Atkins, Rebecca Foon on cello and background vocals, and me on piano and background vocals, too. My dear friend Karen Kozy made the beautiful cover art based on a handmade peace wreath I bought on Etsy. I really loved Karen’s design and pictured it printed on a vinyl sleeve weathered with time.
In 2017, the National Music Publishers Association (NMPA) named Imagine the ‘Song of the Century.’ The song was set to receive the official Centennial Award at a live event in NYC, and my mom and I were chosen as the ones to play it, which we took as an honor and responsibility. We didn’t know that Sean and Yoko were there, and just before our performance, they took to the stage. Sean shared words to honor his parents and introduced a recently discovered audio interview of his father. As we stood at the sidelines, we listened intently to the posthumous recording, as John insisted Yoko was an equal writer and inspiration to Imagine. His voice filled the room and we watched Yoko, hearing it for the first time, perhaps not realizing what momentous history was about to take place. Following the recording, Yoko was added as an official co-writer for the song’s credits. She was given two awards, one for the song, and one for her. We were all in tears. As Sean and Yoko left the stage, my mom and I were called up next. I’m sure you can imagine our newfound emotion and nerves around the weight of performing the song at that profound moment, with Sean and Yoko watching, with everyone’s hearts booming and wide open. We did our best. :)
In April 2020, at the start of Covid lockdown, I was asked by Germi, a cultural space/music venue in Milan, to perform a live virtual concert in Italian, as I had been living there in 2019 and had performed a set at Germi the previous summer, with Becky joining on cello. I was excited by this opportunity to connect during such a troubling moment, and shared a concert of songs and poems on Instagram and through the venue’s website. One of the songs I played was Imagine, and I found the song to be a hopeful comfort to sing during that time, if even on my own.
Later, in the fall of 2020, I ventured to Turkey for some weeks, and one especially moving day was near the end of the trip when I visited a friend of a friend at an artists’ retreat in the woods. The forested landscape was dense and mystical, and the artists were given a high quality of space and resources to explore, develop, and share their work. The day I spent there was October 9, 2020, which would have been John’s 80th birthday, and I mentioned that singing together might be a nice way to mark the day. I was a little nervous because I hadn’t performed live for anyone since March, and emotions were high and heavy. At their extremely kind insistence, the artists gathered in a small windowed room which held a piano and we sang together. As you can see, I got choked up at the bridge and needed to pause for a moment. It was a small group, something very intimate and casual, but the weight of all the thoughts and meanings moving through that music and those words stormed in as quickly as they soothed.
Unfortunately and fortunately, for good and bad, the lyrics and music of Imagine are always relevant and always needed. It is one of the most important songs of our world, of our history. Jimmy Carter once said, "in many countries around the world—my wife and I have visited about 125 countries—you hear John Lennon's song 'Imagine' used almost equally with national anthems." On this page you can read all the numerous ways it’s been honored, praised, protected, and celebrated over the years. It’s been used extensively for peace movements, in times of strife and global concern. It’s been used as a song to heal and a song to find hope. Every note, lyric, chord, the melody, the progression, the tempo, the choice of piano as the main instrument - everything chosen as though lifted from a divine message. Simple in its perfection like a collective prayer. It’s strange and unsettling to imagine life without that song, to imagine the world without Imagine.
The walls of my high school bedroom were adorned with pictures and posters of my favorite bands and singers, vinyl covers and liner notes from CDs, banners and anti-war signs, drawings and postcards, all kinds of things. Above my bed where I slept there were two things only - a handmade cloth peace flag and a bumper sticker with a small drawing of John that said in bold and individually capitalized words, ‘You May Say I’m a Dreamer But I’m Not The Only One.’ I remember looking at that space on my wall and feeling a blend of strength and hope, of quiet and intensity. Those words carry so much and I would love to know what they carry for you.
Do you have an ‘Imagine’ story to share? A story about the song, a story about John? I would love to read anything that is on your mind, anything you feel after reading this all, any memories or associations, ideas or dreams that you’re thinking of. Please share anything at all in the comments below.
Later in the Chat thread I will share photos/videos/updates from my trip to Strawberry Fields today. I might also do Instagram Live like I did last year so people anywhere in the world can join in the magic, too.
Many visits over the recent years <3
Thank you so much for reading my stories/memories. I hope they will inspire some of your own and that you will talk about them, write about them, and if you want to, please share them below.
Happy Birthday to John and Sean, and sending lots of good wishes and joyous energy to you all. <3
Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us, only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today
Ah
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
Released October 11, 1971
Written by John Lennon and Yoko Ono
Thank you for this, Jesse. I’m always grateful for your messages, but this one was overwhelmingly moving. I loved imagining all the moments you describe, especially the moment when you stood next to the piano in the white suit before playing Imagine.
When I first saw the walls of your high school room I did a double take because it looks so much like my son’s room when he was in high school. That made me very emotional. His room is still like that even though he’s grown and living in an apartment nearby on his own. I can’t bear to take those posters down, or the self portrait that he painted directly on the wall. How many young people have decorated their rooms full of their dreams? And when will those imaginings come to be?
Thank you for including the video of your playing it for the people at the artist retreat. I love when you invite everyone to join in and then realize you have to organize the unison. You do it beautifully - the counting then the singing.
The last photo you shared, of John and Yoko walking off together, brought tears.
I have long visited Strawberry Fields on this day but no longer can for health reasons. My heart will be there today, and I’ll imagine you and people from all over the world singing for peace.
With gratitude to you, Jesse, and warm wishes to everyone.
In imagining,
Robin
Thank you Jesse! It's a real pleasure to see how much magnificent work you produce for all of us! These beautiful commemorations of yours, so intense and passionate, light up our memories and our hearts ❤️!
In these days I have been hit by a bad flu but I will try to read your entire post with great attention.
Much love ❤️ and peace ☮️ for our world that is crying 🗺️.
A big hug 🤗 to all of you, dear Jesse.
Luca 😊