Racists tried to keep the opera singer down, but the sheer force of her talent still brought her to new heights, like her well-attended Easter Sunday concert on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
While the voice of opera singer Marian Anderson opened doors for her on foreign soil, the color of her skin closed doors for her on the land of her birth.
This came into focus back in 1939; just a few years after Anderson, a Black American women, returned to the United States following a massively successful singing tour of Europe.
A global sensation by that time, she was in the midst of a concert series in Washington D.C. that was hosted by Howard University. She was so popular during those days that her shows needed to be hosted in large venues. And among the places eyed for her was a concert hall managed by the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR.)
Located near the White House, the DAR Constitutional Hall was a sizeable estate that could host thousands; the largest venue of its kind in the city, it was capable of seating the many who would come to see a singer as celebrated as Anderson. There was, however, one problem: it was the early 1900s; several states still adhered to Jim Crow laws, including ones that enforce of segregation. The DAR Constitutional Hall had a white performers-only policy because of this and that was the reason why DAR’s then-president Sarah Corbin Robert denied Anderson the venue.
But this denial didn’t silence her. And as DAR and the rest of America would later find out, it wasn’t only in Europe that Anderson’s voice could open doors. She had that power in her home country as well. And the door Anderson opened in response to the rejection led her to a crowd much larger than any that the DAR’s coveted concert hall had ever been able to house.
“Deep River”
Even before the DAR incident, Anderson’s skin color had already been used many times to hold her back.
Among her early experiences happened during her youth.
She was born on February 27, 1897 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Her parents were John Berkley Anderson and Annie Delilah Rucker. Her father sold ice and coal and eventually liquor at the Reading Terminal. As for Anderson’s mother, she was a schoolteacher in Virginia but since she was unable to earn a degree, she couldn’t go into the same profession in Philadelphia. She ended up taking care of small children for money. As a result, Anderson’s family struggled financially. But this didn’t stop her from achieving her dreams.
At a young age, it was already clear that she had vocal talent. And while her parents didn’t have the finances to pay for her formal training, she did have a community backing her up. She was tutored in the choir of the Union Baptist Church. Members of the congregation also chipped in so that she could attend music school for a year. And later on, Giuseppe Boghetti, an American voice teacher and tenor, heard her sing.
Her rendition of “Deep River” supposedly brought him to tears and eventually urged him to mentor her free of charge for one year. This was among the first instances when Anderson’s voice opened doors for her. More would come.
In 1925, she got her first big break. At a singing contest sponsored by the
New York Philharmonic, Anderson proved her prowess and won. As a prize, she got to perform in concert with the orchestra on August 26 that year. Music critics and the rest of her audience praised the show. This eventually led her to a series of concerts in the US that fully explicated that seriousness of her talent and the depth of racial prejudice in America.
Contemporary look-backs at Anderson’s career remember her as a singer repeatedly billed as a contralto. But, there are those who now question this. Among them was opera singer Denyce Graves. She did so in an interview with PBS.
“In the operatic world, the sopranos always are the leading ladies,” she said. “I’ve sung some of Marian Anderson’s pieces, and they were out of my tessitura, meaning they were out of my range. And my voice is classified as a higher voice than hers.”
“[This is] one of the reasons why I believe that Marian Anderson was not classified as a soprano,” she added. “It’s because that would mean that she would be the love interest of a white counterpart, which was not accepted at all at the time.”
Still, Anderson would eventually be seen as a leading lady, but the journey to it was long and far.
A Voice Heard Once in a Hundred Years
While the color of Anderson’s skin created barriers for her career in America, Europe didn’t have a problem with it. So, when Anderson decided to go there, what she found was a reception commensurate to her talent.
She spent a number of months studying with Sara Charles-Cahier and Geni Sadero and this was followed by a highly successful European tour. Not only did she impress one venue after another; she also met a number of people who would significantly uplift her career. Among them was Kosti Vehanen, a Finnish pianist who would become her regular accompanist and vocal coach. She also moved Jean Sibelius, a man widely regarded as one of the greatest composers of Finland.
After hearing her sing at a concert in Helsinki, Sibelius formed a friendship with Anderson, which blossomed into a professional relationship. For years, Sibelius would alter and compose songs for Anderson.
She continued to tour Europe during the mid-1930s, where she did not encounter the racial barriers that held her back in the States. She became a favorite of many conductors and composers and was well-received in the various venues she performed in.
It was during this time when the conductor Arturo Toscanini, a great composer, had this to say about her: she had a voice “heard once in a hundred years.” But, because of the color of her skin, there were people in America who were willing to let that pass.
“Sweet Land of Liberty”
When she returned to America, Anderson was already regarded as a star.
But during an American tour that was meant to hail her as a returning hero, she still encountered places that didn’t welcome her because of her race. The DAR Constitutional Hall was the most high-profile venue to reject her.
But some had no problem giving Anderson a stage to perform in. Because of the rejection, then-American President Franklin Roosevelt invited her to perform at the White House. And after the DAR incident, his wife Eleanor, previously a member of DAR, left the group in protest. She also supported Roosevelt’s campaign to get another venue for Anderson to perform in. This led to her widely-acclaimed open-air performance on the Lincoln Memorial steps in the capital.
On April 9, 1939, on Easter Sunday, before a crowd of about 75,000, Anderson showed her countrymen why Europe became so enamored with her. Atop the steps of the memorial, she stood before a cluster of microphones and a sea of people flanking the venue’s pool.
Her career would have other highlights after this day. On January 7, 1955, Anderson would become the first Black singer to perform as a member of the Metropolitan Opera in New York City. In 1957, she would take on a 12-nation, 35,000-mile tour sponsored by the US Department of State, the American National Theatre and Academy, and Edward R. Murrow’s television series “See It Now.” In 1958, she would become a delegate to the United Nations and in 1963, US President Lyndon B. Johnson would award her the Presidential Medal of Freedom. But even after all of those accomplishments, this concert—attended by many people from different races, clustered and unsegregated—would still be seen as one of the most important points of her career.
“My country, ’tis of thee,” she sang, “sweet land of liberty.”
It wasn’t then—not with the racial prejudices limiting people of color at that time. But Anderson’s voice was such that those limits could not stop her from singing.
