no.11 aug 2006

+ profile. harry belafonte

last man standing
harry belafonte and the tradition of dissent
+ Phillip Harvey

"Many black people still live out the--the facade of the minstrel. We wear a mask. Much of what we say and what we do is done in metaphor, and done with subtext and other meaning, because we have not had the best of experiences when you go straight to the heart of the problems in this country, because this nation becomes so punitive when it hears the truth about us."

Harry Belafonte
Larry King Show 2003

Many people are angry at Harry Belafonte. Hilary Clinton, the fine folks at the AARP, every public political figure with a constituency or financier to anger. Belafonte’s candid thoughts on George Bush and his Administration, spoken from a podium in South America flanked by Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez and Fidel Castro, drew calls of treason. The media yelled and berated. Previously bemused references to the “Banana Boat Man” turned ugly. They even snubbed him at the funeral of his friend Coretta Scott King. He had gone too far. He had taken it there. He had to pay. And apparently they believed that this shower of insults and disrespect might in some way deter Harry Belafonte. Or give him pause. It’s a funny thing. They actually thought that a press release or public rebuke sent through the media would have an adverse effect on Harry Belafonte. They forgot Harry Belafonte has a Voice. They forgot Harry Belafonte will use his Voice. They forgot Harry Belafonte.

Harry Belafonte is seared into the American consciousness in ways that many of us may not understand. Born in Harlem in 1927 during the height of the Harlem Renaissance, Belafonte soaked in the atmosphere of creative possibility that surrounded him as a child. After a 5 year stint in his mother’s native Jamaica, Belafonte returned to Harlem at the height of the Depression and… soaked in the atmosphere of despair that surrounded him as a teenager. A high school dropout by the age of 15, Belafonte knocked around before joining the navy and fighting in World War II on behalf of his country as an ammunitions loader.

After returning from the war, young Belafonte took a job as a maintenance worker. After receiving tickets to an off Broadway play as a tip, he attended his first theater production and fell in love. So enthralled was Belafonte that he began volunteering at the American Negro Theater as a stage hand so he could have greater proximity to the art craft. It was here that he discovered that he had a voice. In a short span of time, Belafonte went from acting in company productions to singing and acting in company productions to winning a Tony Award for his work in the 1954 Broadway revue John Murray Anderson’s Almanac. Belafonte’s work on stage was so powerfully convincing that it led to his winning a career-making role opposite Dorothy Dandridge in Carmen Jones, a major label recording contract and recurring engagements at New York City’s The Village Vanguard during the height of the jazz spot’s heyday. But the sun, the moon and the stars really aligned when Belafonte dropped Calypso on RCA Records in 1956, the year an icon was born. “Day-O,” often referred to as the “Banana Boat Song” or something like that, is the song that did it for Belafonte. The breakout hit’s nod to Caribbean culture appealed to the ears and imagination of many Americans who were just discovering the Americas for the first time and this made Belafonte a cultural ambassador of sorts. Belafonte the burgeoning star became Belafonte the supernova.

Calypso spent 31 weeks at number 1 on the Billboard charts and became the first full length album to go platinum. But the hint of Calypso in his music wasn’t the only reason behind Belafonte’s explosion into American life. Belafonte also came equipped with a visual that was downright subversive. This was 1956. This was back when Dwight D Eisenhower was president. Folks of color were seen as marginal figures at best and their tastes and truths were large bodies of water away from the mainstream. Prior to Belafonte’s emergence, only Black women had been allowed to have some allure on the movie screen. Lena Horne, Dorothy Dandridge and Ruby Dee were beautiful and glamorous. Sidney Poitier and Ossie Davis were men of quality and integrity (and talent) but they didn’t make the girls swoon. Belafonte opened up a zeitgeist with his telegenic looks, low-buttoned shirts and spirited stage and movie persona. Suddenly, Black American women had a sex symbol and White American women had a symbol of forbidden pleasure (Check the furor raised by Belafonte’s on screen inter-racial kiss with Joan Fontaine in Island of the Sun). His stage act spawned imitators. Handsome men crooning over Calypso inspired rhythms while giving American audiences a peek into the “exotic” world of life nearer the equator. (One included another scion of Caribbean immigrants named “The Charmer” who would go on to use his voice to piss a few people off as the Minister Louis Farrakhan). It was quite simply the era of Harry Belafonte and after starring in several ground breaking movies (Odds Against Tomorrow, The World, The Flesh and The Devil); performing to a standing only crowd at Carnegie Hall; and becoming the first Black American to produce a network television special (the Emmy winning Tonight with Harry Belafonte); it seemed the love affair would never end.

But 1956 was also the year that the Montgomery, Alabama buses desegregated. It was the year that civil disobedience proved that it could have a real and profound impact on society. It was also the year that Harry Belafonte found that his voice had dimensions. It was the year that he found out that his voice was actually a Voice and had the power to both entertain and bring about social change. There was no looking back after Belafonte made this discovery, from here on out he would use his Voice and his platform, as his hero and mentor Paul Robeson had done before him, for some greater social impact. This was also the discovery that transformed Belafonte from a moment to an eternity. Most of yesterday’s brightest stars mellow into a slow burn as the earth ceases to circulate around them. Some receive the title of icon for a time but even that designation tends to lose significance as new generations impose their dictates on the public consciousness and new variations of old pop culture are formed. You say “Aretha,” they say “who?” You say “Streisand,” they say “who?” You say “Belafonte,” they say “he said what?” “He did what?”

Because Belafonte transitioned from being the world’s biggest entertainer to being part and parcel of many of the greatest social justice struggles of the latter half of the 20 th century. The Civil Rights Movement? Belafonte was one of the primary financiers. But he didn’t just send checks by courier- he went down to the front line and showed his face when other public figures who privately supported the movement balked at actually lending their personage. Fascists buy movie tickets. Fascists buy records. Fascists buy sneakers and hip hop (oops wrong story). Fascists end entertainment careers. So fascists can’t see you hanging out with King or Bayard Rustin or Medgar Evers or A. Phillip Randolph (and don’t even mention Malcolm). Belafonte was unperturbed by this. The movie star caught on camera standing next to King in Birmingham? Belafonte. The matinee idol spotted on film sitting next to King in Selma? Belafonte. The platinum selling recording artist working the phones at King’s HQ in that photograph? Belafonte.

It didn’t end there. The Anti-Apartheid Movement? Belafonte was one of the primary agitators for the dismantling of the South African form of Jim Crow, wearing a trail between the U.S. South African Embassy and the local DC jail. Before Paul Simon made Gracleand, Belafonte was introducing American audiences to Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela, South African artists that brought a message of dissent along with their music. And when it was time to broker the historic negotiation for the peaceful fall of Apartheid who was sitting next to Nelson Mandela? Why, Belafonte of course.

But all of this is just a small measure of the man. His vocal opposition to the Vietnam War and the blatant shadiness of the Nixon Administration; his humanitarian awards; his work with foundations; his constant fight to rectify structured indifference towards suffering and find solutions for the issues afflicting this world are too numerous and varied for easy quantification. He is creating a legacy that can’t fit in a song or on a movie stage. His weight is too heavy to fit on a stage. His Voice to strong to be drowned out by political machinations or poorly veiled threats from the lips of self-serving public figures. Belafonte has always spoken out on the important issues of the day and history has always found him to be on the right side of those debates.

So after a life of dissent and speaking truth to power, we are to believe that in this current political and social climate Harry Belafonte should not use his Voice. That he should be silent. That he should NOT talk about George Bush and Dick Cheney and Colin Powell and Condoleezza Rice and Iraq and Corporate Greed and the continued degradation of the fundamental principles of Social Justice. Ridiculous. He has a tradition to uphold. King is not here to speak. Malcolm is not here to speak. Paul Robeson is not here to speak. Cesar Chavez is not here to speak. Shirley Chisholm is not here to speak. So as long as Harry Belafonte has breath in his body and clarity in his Voice, he is going to say something intelligent, informed and straight to the point. In other words, Harry Belafonte will be Harry Belafonte. A fact not to be forgotten.

Phillip Harvey is the editor of Nat Creole and the curator of the upcoming 3rd Wave: The Planet of Brooklyn Transitions exhibition. He has recently sworn off all forms of brown liquor (except rum). He can be reached at ph@natcreole.com.