Othello 1944, photo by Carl Van Vechten
(Princeton Public Library)

Robeson, Paul (1898-1976)


For myself I'm too much of an old 'fuddy-dud' book-worm to want a 'telly'... But Phyllis, tell Violet, has now got a big Music Box called a Hi-Fi. If only I weren't so totally un-musical — a funny thing for a man whose father was prouder of his Welsh ancestry than of anything else! — I would appreciate more the wonderful RECORDS she gets for it. One set of these contains songs I can appreciate. I expect it's needless to tell you they are the songs of Paul Robeson whom for some reason — I'd give a lot to know for what reason! — your Government refuses to allow to travel outside the USA. But unmusical as I am I can and do do justice to his songs! 'There's a man going round taking names' always thrills me when Phyllis turns it on. (Powys to the Trovillions, October 26, 1957))

        Orchestra Hall did not seem large enough to house the distinguished audience assembled to hear Paul Robeson in his recital of spirituals last night. Mr Robeson returns to us after an interesting experience abroad for we all have read of his adventures with Othello under Maurice Browne's direction, if I mistake not?
        Barely has a reputation so perfectly fitted the stature of an artist. Robeson is all that we have heard, and more. He is a singer first, with a gloriously rich and expressive baritone which modulates with the resiliency and docility of a violin. But he is also a musician of parts, for no one can sing and feel song as Robeson does without a technical foundation abetted and employed to reveal an innate kinship with the musical intent of a composer... Chicago Tribune, 2 January 1931

        I first heard Robeson sing a group of spirituals at a party given by my American friend Estelle Healy. Nothing I had been told about his singing adequately expressed the moving quality of his voice. Paul was also a lovable personality, entirely free from the self-importance of the star and as natural as a child. He never refused to sing, no matter how small the circle, if the company was congenial. (Emma Goldman, Living my Life)