Paul Robeson: Standing Tall

T he conception of art as a weapon has been promoted during various trying times in history. Within the 20th century, the period bridging the early 1900s and the end of the Great Depression is most often cited for its protest art. With April being the anniversary of Paul Robeson’s birth, it is a good time to remember one of the voices that rose to prominence during that time. While there were many, none experienced the popular adulation and systematic governmental assault like Paul Robeson. Robeson embodied the “cultural worker” by choice and necessity as he fought for his civil rights while struggling for global justice. 

Robeson never forgot that his father was born into slavery and this shaped much of his future philosophy. He attended Rutgers University (graduating in 1919) and became an award-winning athlete. His achieved status of All-American on the sports field, however, did not eclipse his other areas of study. The young Robeson also became a champion of the Rutgers debating team, won Phi Beta Kappa honors, and graduated as class valedictorian. His graduate studies would lead him to law school but, though he achieved attorney status, his heart led him to the theater. 

Robeson engaged in numerous productions during his college years, turning professional as an actor and vocalist by 1925. His breakthrough role was that of Joe in the operatic Broadway musical Showboat , a work known as much for its early commentary on race relations as for its brilliant score.  

“Old Man River,” always the showstopper in Showboat , became Robeson’s signature song. He subsequently embarked on a series of solo concert tours, usually performing with piano accompaniment and always taking on a huge range of material, from opera to spirituals to folk songs. “Old Man River” remained in his repertoire throughout his career, albeit adapted to its times. Over the years Robeson would modify the lyrics to better signify the struggle for the rights of black Americans, changing “You gets a little drunk and you lands in jail” to the telling “You show a little spunk and you land in jail.” More to the point, he altered “Tired of living and fear’d of dying” to the staunchly courageous “I’ll keep on fighting until I’m dying.”  

Perhaps more than any other figure, Robeson stood as a model to not only African Americans, but also to the white population as well. As much as he posed a threat to the powers that be, his image was that of a highly respected performer and thinker. The left embraced him as both artist and activist. Robeson’s schooled, classical approach and performance practice fit into the 1920s and 1930s intellectual left as an American original.

In contrast to the racial hatred he saw in the U.S., European audiences, and particularly those in the Soviet Union, greeted him like royalty. He stood with and performed for striking British miners and he continued to speak out for labor and progressive movements all over the world. It was during these global tours that Robeson became interested in other cultures and languages. He learned folk songs in many languages and then made a serious study of linguistics, eventually having conversational command of many languages.