A tall, lank, bespectacled Negro looking much like a country preacher stood poised one night last week before the orchestra shell in Manhattan's Lewisohn Stadium. Around him were 16 blackamoor singers, the men in dinner jackets, the women in flouncy dark dresses. Cajoled and driven by two bony, restless hands upraised and contorted, they sang sweetly, harshly, simply, complexly. They were the Hall Johnson Negro Choir, long known to Stadiumgoers and to those who saw The Green Pastures in Manhattan and on tour. Last week it was announced that the Hall Johnson...
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