Friday, August 29
GIVE A SHOUT TO WORD UP! wordup@papermag.com
Posted Jun. 22, 2007, 4:48 p.m. ET
The Real Dirt on The Real Dirt on Farmer John
By PAPERMAG Editors
Text and photo by Phil Smrek
For farmer John Peterson, the road to redemption was not though a tunnel with a light at its end, but rather right around the corner. A documentary about his life, The Real Dirt on Farmer John, opening this weekend at the Lincoln Plaza and Quad Cinemas, eloquently tells his tale: a farm boy from the Midwest, who saw the rise, fall and ultimate resurrection of his family farm. At the age of 18 in the mid-'70s, Peterson took charge of his Illinois farm, ascending his tractor with pride and an eccentric flair. While attending a local community college, and running the family business, the farm became a Warhol-ish “factory,” replete with poets, musicians, filmmakers, hangers-on and other assorted artists. It as was an island of creative misfits that had the community talking of devil worship and orgies.
By the early '80s, the party was over. Peterson, like many American farmers at the time, struggled to maintain his farm, and due to collapsed commodity prices and over-extended loans, the bank shut him down. An auction ensued. Peterson was left with a little more than 20 acres of what was once a thriving 350-acre farm. Broken and utterly destroyed, “Farmer John” traveled -- to Mexico and points beyond - and this ultimately resulted in the rebirth of his farm through organic practices and the CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) business model. By the mid-'90s, Peterson hit the jackpot when he found himself in the forefront of the “slow food” movement, which he quickly realized was something better than what he had lost.
I caught up with Farmer John at -- where else -- the Farmer's Market in Union Square. In between inspections and tastings of freshly picked french breakfast radishes and white beets, I asked the prolific farmer a few questions for the Almanac of Life I someday hope to write:
Phil Smrek: Is the family farm as outdated a concept as, say, vinyl records?
Farmer John: Having a healthy relationship to a piece of vinyl… well we could give that up -- but were talking about the source of life here! Those farms you see in the countryside, most are not working. They're just echoes of another era. We have this food that comes from agro business that turns much of nature, land and weather, into a commodity. As a result, here we are on a planet we've damaged horribly largely out of commercial interest. When you have a gentler and more intimate relationship to the land, it changes how we are on the earth. If you have humanity residing in intimacy with what's happening on the earth, you're gonna have a different kind of humanity.
PS: How did your foray into the organic food movement come about?
FJ: Chemicals obscure the truth about the soil and the plants that grow from it. In the '70s I had had personal relationships with people who were abusive with drugs and I could see the shift in their personalities when they were on them… I'd lose my friends. In the '80s I began to ponder the idea of not working with land or plants on drugs… whatever was real I wanted.
PS: How did you manage to visually and narratively piece together your life so completely?
FJ: I happened to have been filming intermittently since I was two. I've known the director, Taggart Siegel, since I was in my late 20s. We were around each other a lot and he often had a camera and shot me randomly. He documented my farm going down. So by the time the farm was brought back to life in '96 there was already a lot of footage. For my part, I've always had an interest in things that were happening around me and the impulse share it with people.
PS: The magnitude of your loss was so great and your will utterly broken. How did you manage to hang on until things turned around?
FJ: I was in profound despair and I saw no light at the end of the tunnel. I was like an alcoholic just trying to get from one moment to the next without drinking. I was financially broke, physically sick and my support base of friends shattered. But the thing is… when people feel hopeless, they don't know what's going to happen. The delusion of despair is that's it's eternal. Like for me, I knew I would never farm again… I was wrong. I have a life now I did not in the faintest way imagine. The farm is back to life, it's bountiful, I have my health back. The message of the film I think is that whatever darkness you're in, whatever fatalistic feeling about life you have… you might be wrong… you just might be wrong! A year from now, ten years from now you might have a very different life.













Comments
this story is very inspiring, and interesting to have a little follow-up on whatever happened to those farms and farmers that suffered in the 1980s; looking forward to catching the film. AND! I'm curious how delicious the food must be!
Posted at 6:37 p.m. ET on Jun 22, 2007 by annie
Post a Comment