Reframing Richard Manuel’s Legacy
Piece from Breanna McCann, curator of The Richard Manuel Archive
When did we begin letting Richard Manuel’s tragedy define him? That question haunts me. It is the one that brought me to the Archive, the one that called to me, forced me to do what I could to change that. Yet it remains unanswered. The way we talk about Richard Manuel is so often full of anecdotes about his addiction, his wildness, and his tragic end. From some media and discussion, one could come away knowing nothing more about him than that. Nothing about his incredible ability as a multinstrumentalist. Nothing about his truly hauntingly introspective and cerebral songwriting. Nothing about who he was, just as Richard. And is that not a grave injustice? Relegating anyone just to their struggles is unfair, but the extent to which we often rush to do so with Richard Manuel is astounding.
Too often, Richard Manuel is framed in such a way: “Richard Manuel had an incredible voice, but had severe alcohol and drug issues and took his life.” This is a problematic narrative in several ways, especially because it allows his struggles almost to invalidate his influence and greatness. It is almost as if he is somehow less impressive because of his struggles. It’s a fascinating double standard. We often tout artists like Brian Wilson or Richard’s own friend Eric Clapton who were lucky enough to overcome such addictions but rush to tell tales of wild exploits of those who succumbed to addiction like Keith Moon, Brian Jones, and Richard. The recovery stories deserve all the celebration in the world, but the problem is the way the narrative differs for those who were not so lucky. Those who did not escape the throes of addiction and are not alive to defend themselves are the ones that are so often painted in this light, remembered more so by their sickness than their incredible achievements and legacies.
But what if we flipped the narrative? Even just flipped the sentence. “Richard Manuel struggled with substance abuse and mental health issues at a time when there was less understanding yet was an immensely accomplished vocalist, musician, and songwriter and the true soul of The Band.” We can and should acknowledge Richard’s struggles. But they do not in any way lessen his great legacy. Instead, they make it considerably more impressive. To deal with the demons he did, to have lived a life far too short, and still leave this rich and spectacular of a mark on music, is something we should celebrate.
Richard Manuel was a fighter. And if he has taught me anything in my time trying to tell his story, it is how to be a fighter, too. The whole reason I stepped into the unknown with nothing but a faint calling and a feeling of indebtedness to a man whose voice had meant so much to me in a moment I most needed it was to try and flip the narrative for him. It is an uphill battle trying to combat the prevalent narratives about Richard. But changing even one person’s perception of Richard, making them see beneath this damaging mythos constructed around him, makes it worth it.
Richard’s birthday and death anniversary fall within just over a month of each other. In the upcoming weeks between the two, I challenge you to consider Richard differently. Do not immediately think of him with pity and sorrow, do not let your mind immediately wander to his tragedy. Instead, soak yourself in his tremendous musicianship, the profound poetry of his songwriting, and the transcendent spirituality of his voice. This is his legacy: not his personal demons, not his death, no matter what anyone might try to say. We all owe Richard as much. His demons do not define him, and it is about time we recognized that. Richard Manuel deserves just as much reverence as his contemporaries who were lucky enough to survive their addictions. His voice and soul ring through just as clearly as if he were still alive in the room with us. That is and always will be his legacy.
