Paul Robeson
Paul Robeson (1898-1976) was a Philadelphia-area-born singer, actor, and activist whose extraordinary talents made him one of the twentieth century's most celebrated performers before his political commitments led to persecution that destroyed his career and damaged his health. Born in Princeton, New Jersey, and raised primarily in Somerville and later Westfield, Robeson attended Rutgers and Columbia Law School before practicing briefly in New York, but his connections to Philadelphia and the greater Delaware Valley region—his performance venues, his political alliances, and his eventual return—connect him to the city's cultural and political history. His voice, described as one of the century's greatest, and his commitment to racial justice and international solidarity made him both beloved and reviled.[1]
Early Life and Achievement
[edit | edit source]Paul Leroy Robeson was born on April 9, 1898, in Princeton, New Jersey, his father a former slave who had become a Presbyterian minister. His mother's death when he was six and his family's subsequent moves within New Jersey provided the challenging circumstances that his abilities would nonetheless overcome. His athletic and academic excellence at Rutgers—he was valedictorian and an All-American football player—demonstrated the breadth of talent that his subsequent career would display across multiple fields.[2]
His Columbia Law School education and brief legal career gave way to performance work that his extraordinary voice made possible. His bass-baritone, one of the most distinctive in musical history, brought him success on concert stages and in recordings that reached audiences worldwide. His acting career, including the landmark 1943 Broadway production of "Othello" and films including "Show Boat" (1936), demonstrated that his abilities extended beyond music to dramatic performance of the highest caliber.[1]
His Philadelphia connections included performances at the Academy of Music and other venues where his voice filled spaces that his reputation preceded. The city's Black community, and its radical political circles, provided audiences who embraced both his artistry and his politics. His prominence made him one of the most recognized African Americans in the world, his voice carrying not only music but messages that powerful forces would soon seek to silence.[2]
Political Persecution
[edit | edit source]Robeson's political commitments—his support for the Soviet Union, his advocacy for racial equality, his criticism of American foreign policy—made him target of the anticommunist persecution that characterized the late 1940s and 1950s. His passport revocation in 1950, which prevented international travel, destroyed his ability to perform in the European venues that had welcomed him when American opportunities closed. The House Un-American Activities Committee hearings, at which he refused to cooperate, demonstrated both his courage and the price his resistance would exact.[1]
His blacklisting from American venues, enforced through threats against any who would hire him, reduced one of the world's most celebrated performers to near-invisibility within his own country. His health declined under the stress of persecution, the combination of professional destruction and personal isolation taking toll that his formidable constitution could not indefinitely resist. The years of enforced silence represented waste of extraordinary talent that political conformity demanded.[2]
His partial rehabilitation in later years, including the restoration of his passport in 1958, came too late to restore the career that persecution had destroyed. His declining health, including severe depression that required extended treatment, prevented the comeback that the easing of persecution might have allowed. His return to Philadelphia in his final years, living with his sister Marian Forsythe in West Philadelphia, connected his end to the region where his career had occasionally centered.[1]
Legacy
[edit | edit source]Paul Robeson died on January 23, 1976, in Philadelphia, his final years spent in the city after the persecution that had destroyed his career had finally eased. His legacy encompasses both the artistic achievements that made him one of the century's greatest performers and the political courage that cost him the career those achievements deserved. His rehabilitation since death—the acknowledgment that his persecution was unjust, the recognition of his significance—provides belated justice that his lifetime did not see. Robeson represents both the heights that African American talent could reach and the violence that white supremacy and anticommunism could inflict on those who challenged American assumptions.[2]