Following is one of the tributes to Paul Robeson given at a program at the Fritch- man Auditorium . of the First Unitarian Church of Los Angeles, Sunday, February 15. [ teei very inadequate to speak of Paul * Robeson. I only knew a small part of him. True, I was his accompanist for a series of West Coast appearances in 1957-58, but all that seems, in retrospect, to have been for me an Alice in Wonderland episode. Never- theless, what took place briefly for me during this period was of such vital inten- sity that it remains a mountain-top exper- ience of my life. My first acquaintance with Paul Robe- son, outside of being an admiring listener, came in about 1940 when I attended a dem- onstration in New York City (as I recall). Robeson came for a brief talk and was. asked to sing. But he said, “I didn’t bring my accompanist along.’’ Before I knew it somebody had volunteered me for thé as- signment. Trembling, I allowed myself to be drafted, and somehow managed to play accompaniments for “‘Joe Hill’’ and ‘‘Frei- heit’” (among others). I knew the songs, but not very well in the low keys with which Robeson’s magnificent voice rolls-out, and I was embarrassed at the poor support I was able to give. Years later, I had the opportunity to make partial amends. I had rehearsals and discussions with Paul Robeson in pre- paration for several programs here in Southern California, starting right in this auditorium (June, 1957). Robeson was not at all fearsome then; in fact I could tell he was doing all he could to make me feel at ease. No songs were to be on the per- formance repertoire unless I felt comfort- able with the accompaniment, and he with his singing. Only songs which were ‘‘in the groove,” that is ‘‘perfect,” would be pre- sented. This was a measure of Robeson’s respect for an audience. After rehearsing a group of selections, Robeson suggested we take a ‘breather’ and he engaged me in discussions of musi- cal theories and philosophy. Perhaps he did this because he knew I had taught music history courses at Elmhurst College (IIl.), but more likely because he wanted to get acquainted with me in order to establish a musical rapport and put me more at ease. He had a concept of a universal people’s PACIFIC TRIBUNE—APRIL 2, 1976—Page 6 By Waldemar Hille culture based on the honest simplicity as. well as subtlety and variety of the folk- idioms of our land and of the peoples in other lands of the world: Africa, Europe, . Russia, China, etc.* He further expressed the feeling that such widely divergent composers as Bach, Beethoven and Bartok had been immersed in and had used such peoples’ idioms to. great benefit and enhancement of their creative work. At the time it was amazing to me that Robeson, beside his singing and acting, let alone his athletic prowess, also concerned himself in depth about such fundamental aspects of culture. He even went to the piano and demonstrated instru- mentally and vocally in music of different national origins the evidence of this uni- versality of idioms. In these conversations I learned that he had, in fact, discussed these matters with European, African, Soviet and British scholars, composers. and musicologists, and was intent on writing an essay on this subject at some future time. Some of his ideas on this have been recorded for pos- terity (educational TV stations—recently broadcast a biographical survey of Robe- son, which includes his cultural comments and some tentative conclusions). Unfor- tunately his failing health had caused this pursuit to be somewhat curtailed. When he asked my opinion of his cul- tural theories I was both flattered and also nonplussed. I could only voice my gen- eral agreement without having any signifi- cant input to contribute. I knew that Earl Robinson and Pete Seeger were great ex- amples of artists working and thinking along similar lines, and that ‘People’s * World Magazine printed an article by Robeson on this subject, April 7, 1973, which had been written by him for a Czechoslovak- ian journal in September 1957. Waldemar Hille and Paul Robeson in the mid-1940s. Songs’’.and later ‘‘Sing Out’’ with which I had been intimately associated for many years — were like-minded. But still, there were qualitative differences. I must-also, in all honesty, say that I felt a need to be a bit cautious about being simply a: ‘‘yes- man’’ which was, of course, the easiest position to take under the pressure of Robe- son’s dramatic vital personality and posi- tively formulated concepts. I needed to mull this over, to match it with my own experiences and let the ‘‘devil’s advocate’’ communicative and getting ever more $0) according to Tolstoy. His ideal of art beitfl . communicative without education — to tht , peasantry, to the ordinary unspoiled people) had certain merits historically, but it weakness is also evident (such an ide could lead to folk-song sectarian-simpli| city). : | Robeson’s concept, as I see it, takes thé fundamental. value of Tolstoy’s concep! and modifies it by not denying the values dl cultural growth and education. Robeson af’ firms the beauty of structural developmetl) of the Bach Chorales, and of Bach’s at! vancements based on folk idioms. He 4 firms the Bartokian discovery of the mai) subtleties and infinite variety of expressivé) ness in the folk idioms of Hungary, Romal ia, the Czechs, the Slavs, etc. Bartok alll Kodaly’s analysis of this folk material i!) songs and dance, vocal and instrumental) suggested to them that a people’s idiot . may be simple or it may be subtle and complex, but as it derives from healthy; honest human experiences and feelings, i will find a kindred response in all sensitiv” people. Paul Robeson is also telling us thal! there is no basic difference between fol! and classical music except in the progres sive development of varied forms (large) and small). For artists to communicate) their progressive insights and ideas meal) to use these already existing and ever re" . hewing patterns created by the people. o special significance to Robeson is the Afr?’ American cultural, heritage which his ow? people have, and are giving to the world. Shostakovich, in Soviet Russia, had reached similar conclusions. He wrote: “Art born of the progressive ideas of its times knows no boundaries, it is undef stood and precious to every honest perso?) in whatever country he may live, and there"| in lies its greatness. The national and thé) universal blend into one and such an idea 4 ‘defense of one’s homeland’ strike a cho! in the hearts of people everywhere in thé world.”’ In closing permit me just to mentiol that to sense, as an accompanist, the tre ‘I knew the songs, but not very well in the low keys with which Robeson’s magnificent voice rolls out, and | was embarrassed at the! poor support! was able to give.”’ } — put these ideas through its crucible. Now in retrospect and some 20-odd years later, having read such essays as “What Is Art?” by Leo Tolstoy, books on culture and society under capitalism and socialism, and tried my hand at expressing my opinions on art, music and culture as “the fifth wheel on the wagon”’ as they say in the Germany Democratic Republic to describe something unnecessary, second- ary or disregarded. He has felt, as they do in the GDR, that culture is ‘‘an irreplace- able means of forming people, making them more sensitive and more intelligent, more alert and conscious — which is to say, more human.” And that in days to come (under socialism) ‘‘art will be suited to all.’ Art is necesSary. If art is so important it must communicate. This matter of the importance of art and music being com- municative to ordinary people was a ma- jor point in Tolstoy’s essay ‘‘What Is Art?”’ The most hatural proletarians to Tolstoy were the peasants of Russia, and so for Tolstoy the dictum was that “‘art must be understandable to the lowliest peasant.’ Art for the upper classes was relatively un- mendous out-going of genuine affection and rapport with his audiences which Rabeso! always exhibited, was something like mil aculous. There was none of this artificial showmanship or tricks-of-the-trade i” volved in his charisma; it was the great ness of his heart and mind. It was a natur love of Robeson for his people, for all pe ple, that emanated from all his singing, his gestures, and all his added commentary: Some years ago a Los Angeles song writer Bob Weissman wrote a song about? person like Robeson, and I quote: There’s a man that I’ll remember as a brother, every part; For I call a man a brother when his fire warms my heart. He is one that F’ll remember as I would a mountain high; For he stood just like a mountain, standing firm against the sky. I’ve a brother I’li remember (for he left me not the same) From his lips I heard the thunder, From his heart I caught the flame. And I say let’s “‘Keep The Flame.”’