In recollections of Landau, many would describe her in terms of her company. Walter Arlen remembers her as quite nice and well respected. To him she seemed to be the force behind the music at the centers—her events were a “single-handed enterprise.” Asked for impressions of Landau, Arnold Steinhardt singled out her “wonderfully delicious accent.” The events at which she spoke, however, were a “one woman show.” She was always “on her own,” “alone.” These memories underline Landau's place in the centers. Though she had Lee Kestenbaum's help before her reassignment to the valley, Landau was very much on her own to imagine and arrange her programs. And that suited her just fine for many years. As Daniel Pollack confirmed, Landau was quite short, but a true force, “very dedicated.” With her “bright eyes,” said Eileen Wingard, she was “energetic.” She needed that energy and dedication to do all that she did.

On the other hand, she might have appeared alone to so many because she never married. In a letter of February 12, 1940, her mother held out hope that she would find a “fitting husband.” After her first summer in the camp for refugees in Vermont, her mother wrote again, disappointed that Landau hadn't met anyone special in such an “interesting circle” of people. Roesi admitted that Landau simply had “no talent for something like that.”

But, in her personal life, Landau was never truly alone. In California she had Alice Mueller, Sophie Schott's sister. After Schott's death Landau continued to live with Mueller, who prepared many of Landau's meals. In her later years Landau cared for Mueller. They offered each other companionship for over two decades. But, in early 1968, this arrangement became a tremendous burden on Landau. Mueller, in declining health, expected Landau's constant care, especially after Landau's retirement from center work. Mueller viewed it as Landau's obligation since she had acted, according to Mueller, as Landau's surrogate mother. This presumption, despite some justification, did not sit well with Landau. No one could replace Roesi.

In a letter dated December 9, 1968, Werner Bab, an old friend from the league then living in San Francisco, advised Landau to make a change: “With guilt on your mind there is nothing left.”