A. Kori Hill
If you’ve visited Downtown Cincinnati, you may have stepped or stayed in the Hilton Cincinnati Netherland Plaza. It’s part of the Carew Tower structure. But you may not know that, in addition to the hotel rooms, there is a place on the third and fourth floors that is called the most beautiful ballroom in the Midwest: the Hall of Mirrors. It was in this space, on March 31, 1937, that the world-renowned Marian Anderson made her Cincinnati debut.
Anderson’s concert closed out Matinee Musicale’s 1936-37 season. If Matinee Musicale sounds familiar, that’s because they’re still around! For more than a century, they’ve been bringing world-class classical musicians to the area, so it’s not that surprising that Anderson would be invited.
By 1937, Anderson had stunned Europe and the New York critics with her artistry. From the 1910s until 1935, Anderson had struggled to establish a career as a classical vocalist. She had to fight against racist admission practices and find a teacher who would take a Black student. She had to improve her performance of art songs in different languages, especially German. And she also had to find representation that believed in her. Thankfully, she was able to do all three.
By the time she stepped onto the floor of the plaza’s Hall of Mirrors, she had taken audiences in Salzburg by storm. She had returned to New York triumphant, represented by the world-renowned Sol Hurok, performing regularly at Carnegie Hall and banishing her 1925 bomb at Town Hall from people’s memories. She also released records for Victor’s Talking Machine (RCA Victor). Anderson continued the standard of Roland Hayes and Harry T. Burleigh of programming a set of Negro spirituals each recital. She did just that for her Cincinnati recital.
Her first two sets were by German composers, Handel and Schubert, respectively, including “Ave Maria” and “Der Tod und des Madchen.” Anderson would record the song with conductor Leopold Stokowski and the Westminster Choir in 1944 for a Christmas reel sent to US soldiers fighting in World War II.
Her third set was “O don fatale” from Verdi’s Don Carlo. Her last set was concert spirituals by Hall Johnson, Roland Hayes, John Payne, and Florence Price’s “My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord.” This last one would become significant two years later; Anderson would close her historic Lincoln Memorial concert with it, and record it several times in her career.
If you look at page 10 of The Cincinnati Enquirer’s edition from Thursday, April 1, 1937, you’ll find Frederick Yeiser’s review of Anderson’s recital. The following quote gives us a glimpse into what we may have heard if we’d been there:
“Besides having been endowed by nature with a voice of extraordinary range, power, and voice, which she uses with pliancy and ease, Miss Anderson numbers among her assets a notable interpretive gift. The racial qualities of her voice, which are so difficult to define accurately, appear more conspicuously in the richness of the low tones and the vibrant brilliance of the high ones.”
What do you think Yeiser means when he says “the racial qualities” of Anderson’s voice? Does that clarify or hinder your understanding of what she sounded like?
If you’re in Cincinnati, see if you can go to an event at the Hall of Mirrors, or see if you can step inside. Imagine what it would be like to sit there on the floor or the balcony and hear Ms. Anderson sing. Which of her songs would you want to hear? Going off of what Yeiser shares, what do you think that would sound like?
