I was late to the Joni Mitchell party.

For reasons that remain inexplicable, I never heard albums like Blue and Court and Spark in the late 1970s or early '80s, despite the fact that my musical tastes were right in line.

The first time I listened to a Joni Mitchell album was in 1988, and that happened by way of my interest in Prince.

First, in a 1985 interview, Prince said that the "last album he loved all the way through" was Joni's The Hissing of Summer Lawns (side note: the tail end of his song, "Adore," contains harmonic layers highly reminiscent of Joni's on "Shadows and Light," a track from that 1975 album).

Second, sometime in late 1986 / early 1987, Rolling Stone magazine published a news byte that Prince had disbanded The Revolution, his band which featured Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman (also known as "Wendy and Lisa").

I could tell when Wendy and Lisa were involved in a Prince track, and fell as much in love with them musically as I did Prince.

The byte referred to Wendy and Lisa's post-Revolution plans, which included a solo project and an appearance on Joni Mitchell's next album. That album was Chalk Mark In A Rainstorm, which I bought the day it was released in March 1988.

I put the cassette into my car stereo immediately after leaving the record store, and was transfixed by the first track, "My Secret Place". As the track progressed, I knew Peter Gabriel was a guest, but didn't automatically know he was trading lines with Joni in the verses!

Their blend was so interesting, at times I couldn't tell Joni's voice from Peter's, ultimately a perfect choice for a song about two people's deep intimacy; sharing secrets to a point they become "one."

The themes and rhythms of "Number One" and "Lakota" were unlike anything I'd ever heard lyrically or musically, especially "Number One", with its sarcastic, cynical take on the need to chase "being the best," and how it affects people.

I was completely knocked out by a story-song about a Vietnam Veteran Joni once met called "The Beat Of Black Wings". To this day, it bums me out radio didn't pick up on that song, with its synth and "Johnny Angel" refrains.

Wendy and Lisa were featured as the main "choral hook" on the track, "The Tea Leaf Prophecy (Lay Down Your Arms)," another song I thought was fit for radio, and radio ignored.

I would learn, decades later, that the song is about how Joni Mitchell's parents met.

The review of the album in Rolling Stone was mixed, and implied that Joni's lyrics were out of touch. One lyric in "Tea Leaf Prophecy", which referenced Hiroshima, was cited as an example, but if that critic had been paying close attention, he'd have realized the timeframe of the song is the 1940s, not modern day.

Chalk Mark In A Rain Storm is one of several recordings in Joni Mitchell's career that should have been paid more attention.

After Chalk Mark, Joni's albums only caught my ear by scattershot, which, with hindsight, is also bizarre.

Then, in March 2000, I was at the Virgin Megastore in Chicago. They had Joni's latest, Both Sides, Now, an album with symphony orchestra, piped in through the store's speaker system.

As I was shopping, the arrangement of a cover of Etta James' classic, "At Last," stunned me, so I bought the record.

At the time, I also had a new friend, Eric, who lived in Florida. I was raving about Both Sides, Now during a phone call, and he shared that he'd been following Joni from her beginnings in the '60s. He urged me to listen to her career in chronological order, which is exactly what I did.

About mid-way into her discography, I noticed a discernible shift in the tone of Joni's music, and decided I needed to have a better understanding of Joni's choices in her own words, if I could find them.

After some searching, I came across The Joni Mitchell Companion, by Stacy Luftig.

The Joni Mitchell Companion had the exact focus I was looking for: reprints of interviews with Joni, as well as substantive overviews and commentaries on her work.

The crucial perspective I gathered from reading Joni's own words, was that in the late '70s, she lost her radio airplay because she was expanding her musical ideas, and a majority of her audience, as well as radio disc jockeys, didn't seem to "get it."

She was leaning more into jazz influences, and it seemed as though people wanted her to stay in the "folk-artist" or "pop goddess" box they'd put her in, but that was never what Joni Mitchell was about.

Since I was coming at her history from a broader perspective, I understood why people following Joni Mitchell in "real time" since 1968 were confused when she moved from the so-called "accessible pop" style of Court and Spark to more esoteric, jazzier offerings like Don Juan's Reckless Daughter and Mingus.

I was hearing her musical evolution much differently, and found it rich and involving. Even when she returned to a more "pop" sound in the '80s, her jazz influences were never far off.

Her lyrics became less and less "personal narrative" (which is what appealed to her Blue audience) and more world-weary, incisive, and political. 1985's Dog Eat Dog, was powerfully prescient.

Concurrent with my deep dive into Joni's musical history, she was touring and performing the entirety of Both Sides, Now, live, with full orchestra. I was fortunate enough to get a ticket, as it was one of the last times she performed live for paying audiences (I understand that will change, at least once, in summer 2023).

Although I didn't get to see her with her guitar, she played the role of "elusive chanteuse" perfectly in the Chicago-area performance I saw, which included a preview of two songs ("For the Roses" and "Judgment of the Moon and Stars") from her next album, also symphonically orchestrated, but focused on her own material.

It would be another year and a half before that album, Travelogue, was released on November 19, 2002. It is now twenty years since, and I decided to take a smaller piece I wrote back then, expand on it, and republish because I love this work so much.

Travelogue could almost be considered an "orchestral summation" of Joni Mitchell's poetry, songwriting and career up to 2002. It is a stunning, superlative work.

The orchestral Both Sides, Now, was mainly comprised of standards written by others, with the exception of two of Joni's enduring classics, "A Case Of You," and the title song.

Capitalizing on the reaction to the revisitation of those two songs, 22 additional pieces of Joni's were arranged for full orchestra on Travelogue by Vince Mendoza.

As someone familiar with the original versions of these songs, it was a little jarring to hear them arranged in an orchestral setting, at first. Once getting past that, there is no question Travelogue is an masterwork of startling reinterpretation.

The poetic nature of Joni Mitchell's lyrics has never been so powerful or crystalline clear.

Part of this may be the dramatic shift in her vocal range since her earlier recordings (varying health issues may have contributed to her dropping from soprano to alto), which leads her to phrase things differently and place emphasis on different words and syllables.

No musical arrangement overwhelms her crucial words. It all mixes together flawlessly and every track from start to finish is a winner.

My personal favorites are "Hejira" (with a gorgeous string arrangement taking the place of Jaco Pastorius' haunting, conversational bass on the 1976 original), "Amelia," with dreamy, soaring strings and horn in place of Joni's guitar, the haunting "Love," and "Refuge of the Roads", as well as the perfect jazz of "You Dream Flat Tires" and "Be Cool."

In this digital age, I don't know if the luxe package for Travelogue is still in distribution, but that package is quite elegant and beautiful.

Joni is also quite an accomplished painter, and her paintings of that era are included in a full color booklet.

Two of those paintings focus on the events of September 11th, 2001; a painting of then President George W. Bush, with a woman "sneering" behind him, has long been seared in my consciousness. The paintings are accompanied by lyrical quotes from appropriate, or, corresponding songs.

Also on the CD version (also if they're still pressing this edition), was an 'Enhanced" portion accessible in a CD-ROM (on Disc One only), which contained even more.

More of Joni's paintings are featured in a "gallery" to browse through, you can read the lyrics to each song (from either disc) on its own page, and hear that song concurrently.

It wasn't possible to listen to all 22 songs in continuity using the feature (it requires clicking back or ahead), but at the time, it was amazing that so much material was housed on one CD! Also included was a separate black and white booklet with the lyrics.

If you're familiar with Joni Mitchell and don't already have this record, I don't suppose I need to push much more. However, if you're not as familiar, and love both traditional orchestra and jazz arranging, or poetry, do seek this out.

It should be known, however, that this is music that demands attention. I encourage being in a quiet spot on the first listen.

I remain just as moved by this incredible journey through Joni Mitchell's world, as well as Both Sides, Now (a wonderful companion piece), as I was twenty years ago. I trust you will be moved as well.