Morris Robinson
Morris Robinson, right.
At the Kimbell Art Museum on Tuesday morning stood two of the unlikeliest stars in their respective pursuits.
One was Opal Lee, who never would have believed 50 years ago that by age 97 she would have spent two afternoons at the White House, most recently last month to receive the nation’s highest civilian honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
The other was Morris Robinson, a Grammy Award winner and renowned operatic bass.
They met for the first time on the eve of Juneteenth during Robinson’s rehearsal for “An Evening With Morris Robinson” to be performed later in the day.
“What a voice!” Lee exclaimed after enjoying two pieces of Robinson’s deep, rich sound bursting forth from a robust physical presence that, had he been outside, could have been heard in Lubbock. “As the kids would say, that was off the chain.”
“God has blessed me with some chops,” Robinson joked to Lee.
Robinson’s visit to Fort Worth was designed to coincide with Juneteenth. He had on his agenda for Tuesday night 30 arias and spirituals and sacred songs. His operatic solos were to be performed in three languages — English, German, and Italian.
He was accompanied on the piano by Caren Levine, a native-born New Yorker who still lives there.
“I asked him if he would come and help us commemorate Juneteenth,” said Angela Turner Wilson, general and artistic director of the Fort Worth Opera. “It's obviously very important, especially with Opal Lee, a friend of our community, and them wanting to meet one another. And he said, ‘I want to come.’”
Morris told another visitor, Wilson’s son, who plays the drums, that he was “a much better drummer than singer.”
He was kidding, I think.
But it was the drums he played growing up in his Baptist church in Atlanta.
He had two loves in his youth: football and music.
Robinson enjoyed an All-America career as an offensive lineman at The Citadel in Charleston, South Carolina. He also had this freakish voice he used to sing a famous — famous to The Citadel — rendition of “O’ Holy Night” at the academy’s Christmas concert.
He envisioned a pro football career, but he soon discovered there was no market for 6-foot-2, 290-pound offensive linemen. He jokes that he had everything he needed to be a successful pro except that he was “too small, too slow, and not athletic enough.”
There began the first reinvention of Morris Robinson.
An English major, he got a job in business with 3M in Minneapolis. That began a successful career in business.
He was using his voice to entertain friends, singing at their weddings mostly. Robinson sang at the national anthem at a Canadian Football League game, but mostly he was “singing the Lord’s Prayer at people’s weddings.”
It wasn’t until Norman Scribner, founder and artistic director of the Choral Arts Society of Washington, D.C., suggested a career in opera that Robinson began to believe it.
“Norman Scribner heard me sing and said, ‘You should really be doing this.’ So, after you hear that so many times, you give it a shot.”
He attended the New England Conservatory. It was there that Sharon Daniels, director of the Opera Institute and Opera Programs at Boston University, took notice of him. He received a full-ride scholarship to study under her.
“I got to do a program called Opera Institute and they have 12 singers and everyone has their masters in music except for the one guy that she found him on the street,” he joked.
He is today one of the most compelling performers in opera, regularly appearing at the Metropolitan Opera where he debuted in the production of “Fidelio” and has since appeared as Sarastro in “Die Zauberflöte,” Ferrando in “Il Trovatore,” the King in “Aida,” and in roles in “Nabucco,” “Tannhäuser,” and the new productions of “Les Troyens” and “Salome.”
He has also appeared at the San Francisco Opera, Lyric Opera of Chicago, Dallas Opera, Houston Grand Opera, Pittsburgh Opera, Opera Philadelphia, Seattle Opera, Los Angeles Opera, Cincinnati Opera, Teatro alla Scala, Volksoper Wien, Opera Australia, and the Aix-en-Provence Festival.
On Tuesday, it was a recital as part of Fort Worth’s Juneteenth celebrations. To be able to meet the other unlikely star, Opal Lee, well, he wouldn’t have missed it.
“To have real recognition of a holiday that means so much to so many of us, which was ignored for over a century … it was known among small circles in the Black community, but to have it recognized and be able to do this concert here in Fort Worth, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
“I’m happy to be a part of it.”
