He was the idyllic apex of what an actor molded from Howard’s conservatory could be, an old soul in a modern man’s body, always willing to take chances and expand the Black imagination, whether it be through his exuberant red carpet style, his easy, toothy grin, the glint in his eye or the humanity he unspooled on screen as he inhabited one singular, history-making Black man after another. Within Boseman, the spirits of Howard’s dramatic luminaries converged - the rigor and dignity of Ossie Davis, the radical defiance of Amiri Baraka, the homespun egalitarianism of Pearl Cleage, the self-possessed elegance of his teacher and mentor, Phylicia Rashad. What Boseman accomplished in his too-short career as an actor came from an earnest embrace of Black theatrical tradition as cultivated at the home of the Howard Players, the student acting company founded at the university in 1919 (Boseman was a former president of the group). That is what makes the pain of his death from colon cancer at age 43 radiate through my bones, because his work feels like the apotheosis of a project that began decades before his birth. But when I look at Boseman through the eyes of a critic who graduated, like Boseman, from Howard, I see an embodiment of lineage and legacy. His doesn’t represent the loss of a single book, but an entire library.īoseman’s seemingly never-ending capacity for excellence shone through his roles in biopics, depicting Jackie Robinson, James Brown and Thurgood Marshall.

That is why it’s difficult to face the reality of saying goodbye to Boseman, a South Carolina-born son of Howard University who soared to vertiginous heights on the wings of his love for Black people.

Chadwick Boseman was a griot among thespians.

Chadwick boseman find a grave