Chuck Mitchell used to sing at colleges between club dates. Today, the folk singer does clubs between college engagements. "Now I do clubs on the way someplace. I used to do schools on the way," said the Rochester native who freely admits he's given up some fantasies ("like instant success") in the transition.

But the decline of the coffeehouse - which left Mitchell and many other folk singers without "homes" - also brought new challenges for the versatile entertainer.

He expanded his concert and classroom program which takes him to colleges and universities as a performer-in-residence. He is also writing poetry, concentrating more on his music and is proud that at 46 he still attracted 166 people to Southfield's Folktown series on Dec. 26.

"That's a joke compared to the Rolling Stones at the Silverdome, but it's good in my business," explained Mitchell, performing Jan. 7-9 in Cooper's Arms Cabaret while in Rochester visiting his family.

"I started at 29, when most musicians are washed up. But I've done reasonably well. And now that I know what it takes, I will continue to do reasonably well."



DOING REASONABLY WELL wasn't quite what Charles Scott Mitchell had in mind when he changed professions 16 years ago.

The 1954 Rochester High School graduate, who has a bachelor's degree in English and drama from Principia College, was a staff writer for the Great Cities Project designed to improve education for culturally deprived Detroit children.

But in 1965, after serving a "lengthy apprenticeship" in saloons and coffeehouses like the Chessmate and Raven Gallery, he began singing full time.

"I was spending more energy entertaining weekends than at my writing job," recalled Mitchell.

He had also considered going after an advanced degree in education. "But that looked like six to eight years of studying. I thought I could become a music star in two to three years," said the entertainer, adding a hearty "ha ha."

Almost immediately, he met and married Joni (Anderson) Mitchell, whose singing career skyrocketed while he maintained a steady following.

"I was too diverted by things like fixing a car. There are all kinds of things that can keep you from becoming an overnight success," he said.

WHILE THE couple divorced in 1968 and he has since remarried and divorced again, Mitchell is still asked about his first wife. The curiosity once irritated his so much that he had a rider on his contract forbidding media mention of her.

Today, though, his biography mentions the famous folk singer and he speaks highly of her ability. "It doesn't bother me anymore," said Mitchell.

"I'd be a stone liar though to say I wouldn't enjoy the degree of success she has. But she went after it."

For 15 years, he worked in clubs across the U.S. and Canada, most of which are now closed. He now travels mostly in the Midwest.

"I used to be a national artist but ain't anymore," said the singer, who believe home video posed too great a challenge to coffeehouses. He made his last appearance at the Raven Gallery in 1980 just before it closed.

"Coffeehousees were about intimacy; close-up looks at people. That's what video now offers," explained Mitchell, who believes people went to clubs rather than attend movies. "It's the opposite of seeing the Rolling Stones in the Silverdome."

He believes the other coffeehouse drawing card - alternative music - resulted in the music's recent resurgence in some places.

"SINCE THE Reagan administration, I'm beginning to think of myself as an alternative artist," said Mitchell, who lately added some protest songs to his repertoire of folk, British traditional, ballads, American musicals and poetry.

"A lot of people thought they were getting one thing from the administration, but found it had a hidden agenda. They're disillusioned. Things are changing and going to continue to change. Meanwhile, it's a wonderful opportunity for me."

Most of Mitchell's time is spent on college campuses where he stays two to five days. He performs in a coffeehouse of mini-concert setting, talking to classes in psychology, writing and performing arts.

He also sings in senior citizens' homes, exhausting stints where he performs without a sound system for about $100 a day.

But Mitchell is content with his new life, which came about after he "woke up one day terminally bored, living fantasies that never became reality." He's writing more poetry, enjoying creating music on his guitar and trying to "keep the wolf from the door."

"I find myself thinking and writing as a poet," said Mitchell, who plans to head for New York City soon "just to see what's cooking." And he contemplates a master of fine arts degree, thinking 20 years from now he will teach college. "But I feel I owe it to whoever I teach to be a success first at whatever I teach," he said firmly.

But his future may lie in Keokuk, Iowa, where he has a century-old brick house overlooking the Mississippi.

Although he has no regrets, Mitchell sometimes wonders what his life might have been like if his career had really taken off.

"I often wonder what it would be like to be Mick Jagger," he said with a grin.