Actor James Earl Jones, a beloved baritone, dies at 93 : NPR

Actor James Earl Jones, a beloved baritone, dies at 93 : NPR

James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, who refused to be confined by stereotypical roles.

James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, who refused to be confined by stereotypical roles.

Jesse Dittmar for The Washington Post/Getty Images


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Jesse Dittmar for The Washington Post/Getty Images

James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, who refused to be confined by stereotypical roles.

James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, who refused to be confined by stereotypical roles.

Jesse Dittmar for The Washington Post/Getty Images

One of America’s most beloved actors, James Earl Jones, died Monday at the age of 93. He was at home in Dutchess County, New York, surrounded by family, his longtime agent Barry McPherson confirmed to NPR.

Jones was born on January 17, 1931, in Arkabutla, Mississippi. He was raised by his grandparents. When he was 5, his family moved to a rural farm in Dublin, Michigan. Jones said the move so traumatized him that he developed a severe stutter that persisted until he was in high school.

“I was able to function as a farm kid, and do all those chores that require animals,” he told WHYY’s Fresh air in 1993, “and I certainly let the family know what my needs were. But when strangers came to our home, the stupid thing happened. I didn’t want to confront them and I wasn’t ready. I hid in a state of muteness.”

Then a high school teacher found a way to help: “He found out one day that I was writing poetry, and he said to me, ‘This poem is so good, I can’t believe you wrote it. The way to prove it to me is to stand in front of the class and recite it from memory.’ And I accepted the challenge and did it, and we both realized that we had a way — we had a way to reclaim the power of speech through poetry.”

And what a force it was. Jones’ baritone had its own echo chamber. His voice became one of the most instantly recognizable in entertainment history.

Everything about him was big: his commanding stage presence, the intensity of his gaze, and his brilliance as a craftsman. Woodie King Jr. is the founder of New York’s New Federal Theater, which has produced shows by and about African Americans since its inception. He first became aware of Jones in the early 1960s.

“I was a young, aspiring actor who had come to New York and he had all the elements of acting — physicality, vocal range, psychic in tune with what was going on,” King says. “And I wanted to be that kind of artist who had that kind of freedom with his instrument.”

King saw Jones’ critically acclaimed performance in a 1961 production of Jean Genet’s The blacksHe also worked with Jones in a 1968 Broadway production of Howard Sackler’s The Great White Hopebased on the life of black boxing champion Jack Johnson.

“It was an incredible performance,” King recalled. “It was an amazing transformation, to see him transform himself into this brutal fighter.”

    Muhammad Ali (left) fights Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope, in 1969.

Muhammad Ali (left) fights Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope1969.

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    Muhammad Ali (left) fights Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope, in 1969.

Muhammad Ali (left) fights Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope1969.

GB/AP

Jones won a Tony for that role, as well as an Oscar nomination for the 1970 film adaptation, and he won a second Tony in 1987 for his role in August Wilson’s Fences.

In addition to an illustrious stage career – with roles in classics such as Macbeth, Othello And The iceman is coming — Jones also had an extensive film career. His first film role was as bomber Lothar Zogg in Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 classic Doctor Strangelove. In 1972 The manJones played the first black president in the 1974 black classic Dear darling, he played a garbage man who charms a date from a welfare mother; and in the 1989 film Field of dreamshe explained why people would care about a baseball field in an Iowa cornfield. Jones has said that one of his favorite roles was as the South African pastor in Scream, the beloved countryAnd as Darth Vader, Jones uttered the line that still sends shivers down the spine of Star Wars fans.

Jones’ voice has permeated pop culture: he’s the voice of CNN, Verizon, and the ill-fated Mufasa in Disney’s The Lion King. He even appeared in a few episodes of The Simpsonswhich immediately got the actor upset about his kaleidoscopic work.

In his conversation with Fresh airJones fondly recalled the beginning of his voice acting career. “I think the first commercials I did … asked me to ‘just give the sound of God.’ … They weren’t ashamed to say that.”

Jones bows for his final performance in the Broadway show You Can't Take It With You in 2015.

Jones bows after his final performance in Broadway’s You can’t take it with you from 2015.

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Woodie King of the New Federal Theater said Jones was a warm, somewhat shy man who was a powerful artist. He followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be confined by the old stereotypical roles of butlers or clowns. Jones saw theater as a place for everyone.

“What you have is a master craftsman at work,” King said. “He’s making young people aware of the tremendous possibilities of this craft if you’re a craftsman. … The Broadway stage sees him as truly colorless — not black or white, but a brilliant artist.”