Marian Anderson is known more for two events than for
the talents that made them possible. But there is more to be told, and
so she asks us to listen again for who and what we know her to be.
John Malveaux of
writes:
More about Marian Anderson
August 29, 2019
Shana L. Redmond
I learned relatively early the importance of paying attention to
silence. Long pauses and refusals to answer were forms of evidence at
home as well as school. What I didn't hear or wouldn't say was often as
laden with meaning as what I was told or said, and it's in part the
conversations shared between sound and silence that led me to study
music. I came to the decision honestly, though not easily. As a college
student I struggled to commit to the major, delaying my declaration on
multiple occasions because I rarely saw or heard anyone who looked or
sounded like me in my music classes. Eventually I stopped expecting
others to give me what I could find on my own. I began to search, read
and listen for those beyond the looming canon of dead white men. It
sometimes was a lonely effort and always far from romantic, but I did
eventually recognize that, whether welcomed or not, my presence in those
vibrating halls was no accident.
My effort led to knowledges
that I carry still: genealogies of creation and the names of those
creators, including that of a woman who has quietly occupied my thinking
and listening for years. Though many decades removed from my
experience, Marian Anderson too wanted a life in music, but lived in a
world in which her race and ambitions were structured in opposition to
one another. Turned away from an elite school of music for being black,
she pursued studies outside of the classroom and within a few years was
singing with the New York Philharmonic. She made a spectacular way from
no way and has continued to do so well after her lifetime, revealing
that she is still with us and more capacious than many acknowledge. She
is known more for two particular events than for the talents that made
either possible. Each is significant — historic, in fact: the Lincoln
Memorial concert in 1939 in which she sung for the nation in defiance of
the Daughters of the American Revolution's racist refusal to host her
at Washington, D.C.'s Constitution Hall, and her role in Un Ballo in Maschera
that broke the color barrier at The Metropolitan Opera in 1955. But
those are part of a 40-year career. There is more to be told, and so she
asks us to listen again for who and what we know her to be.
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