Actor and activist Harry Belafonte passes away at age 96

Actor and activist Harry Belafonte passes away at age 96

THE NEW YORK Harry Belafonte, a pioneering actor and singer who later became an activist, humanitarian, and voice for human rights around the world, has passed away. He was 96.

Actor and activist Harry Belafonte passes away at age 96

According to publicist Ken Sunshine, Belafonte passed away on Tuesday at his New York residence from congestive heart failure with his wife Pamela by his side.

Many people still recognise Belafonte for his hallmark hit, "Banana Boat Song (Day-O)," with its call of "Day-O! Daaaay-O." He was one of the first Black entertainers to achieve a large audience on film and to sell a million albums as a vocalist. He created a bigger impact, though, once he curtailed his performing activities in the 1960s and applied his hero Paul Robeson's dictum that artists are "gatekeepers of truth."

Belafonte is the poster child and best example of a celebrity activist. Few were able to match his dedication, time commitment, and stature as a hub for the civil rights movement, Hollywood, and Washington.

Belafonte helped plan and collect money for protest marches and charity concerts in addition to taking part in them. He collaborated closely with the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., a friend and generational peer, frequently advocating for him before politicians and other entertainers and providing financial support. By criticising Jay-Z and Beyoncé for not fulfilling their "social responsibilities," he put his life and livelihood at risk and established high expectations for younger Black superstars. He also served as a mentor to Usher, Common, Danny Glover, and many other people. He played an elder statesman instructing youthful activists about the nation's history in Spike Lee's 2018 film "BlacKkKlansman," which was appropriately cast.

Civil rights activist Andrew Young, a friend of Belafonte, would remark that Belafonte was a rare individual who grew more radical with age. He was always on the case and relentless, eager to take on Southern segregationists, Northern liberals, the billionaire Koch brothers, and the nation's first Black president, Barack Obama, whom Belafonte would recall pleading to give him "some slack."

"What makes you think that's not what I've been doing?" Belafonte retorted.

Since the 1950s, Belafonte has been a significant artist. His lead performance in John Murray Anderson's "Almanack" earned him a Tony Award in 1954, and five years later he made history by becoming the first Black artist to win an Emmy for the television special "Tonight with Harry Belafonte."

He and Dorothy Dandridge co-starred in the 1954 musical "Carmen Jones," which Otto Preminger directed and which was a critical and commercial success for an all-Black ensemble. Because of the interracial relationship shown in the 1957 film "Island in the Sun" between Harry Belafonte and Joan Fontaine, the movie was outlawed in a number of Southern cities where theatre owners had been intimidated by the KKK.

Belafonte was unwillingly dubbed the "King of Calypso" when his record "Calypso," which was published in 1955, became the first solo artist's album to be officially certified as selling one million copies. Young Bob Dylan, who made his recording debut in the early 1960s by playing harmonica on Belafonte's "Midnight Special," was one of Belafonte's admirers.

Dylan later recalled, "Harry was the best balladeer in the land and everybody knew it. "You hope that some of Harry's greatness rubs off on you because he was that rare kind of character that radiates greatness."

In the spring of 1956, King reached out to Belafonte seeking a meeting, leading to a long conversation that inspired Belafonte's activism. King raised Belafonte to a "higher plane of social protest," and Belafonte quickly began producing a benefit concert for the Montgomery, Alabama bus boycott at the height of his career. This event crucially helped King establish himself as a national figure. His priority was clear by the early 1960s - civil rights.

Belafonte's memoir, "My Song," recounts his frequent conversations with Martin and his realization that the movement held greater significance than anything else. These discussions with Martin occurred nearly every day.

Among the first politicians to solicit his opinions, which he readily provided, were the Kennedys. At a time when Black people were equally likely to support Republicans as they were Democrats, John F. Kennedy was so eager for Belafonte's support that he paid a visit to his Manhattan home during the 1960 election. King and Kennedy met after Belafonte briefed them about King's significance and set up their meeting.

"I was quite taken by the fact that he (Kennedy) knew so little about the Black community," Belafonte said to NBC in 2013. "He knew the news headlines, but he wasn't really anywhere nuanced or detailed on the depth of Black anguish or what our struggle is really about," a participant said.

The Kennedys were frequently criticised by Belafonte for their unwillingness to oppose the Southern segregationists, who at the time made up a sizeable portion of the Democratic Party. He clashed with the president's brother, Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy, about how the government had failed to defend the "Freedom Riders" who were attempting to integrate bus terminals. When playwright Lorraine Hansberry and others shocked Kennedy by asking whether the country really merited Black allegiance, Kennedy was one of the Black activists present at the widely reported discussion with the attorney general.

Bobby's face darkened at that. I'd never seen him that frightened, Belafonte subsequently recalled.

Belafonte played a significant role in the momentous March on Washington in 1963. He convinced the left-wing Marlon Brando to co-chair the Hollywood delegation with the more conservative Charlton Heston, a pairing aimed to appeal to the widest possible audience. He enlisted his close friend Sidney Poitier, Paul Newman, and other celebrities. After three "Freedom Summer" volunteers were killed in 1964, he and Poitier personally transported tens of thousands of dollars to activists in Mississippi; at one point, KKK members were pursuing the two actors in their automobile. He invited artists Tony Bennett, Joan Baez, and others to perform for the Selma, Alabama, marches the next year.

Belafonte assisted in choosing the suit King was buried in after his 1968 murder, sat close to his widow Coretta at the funeral, and continued to provide for King's family, in part thanks to an insurance policy he had taken out on King during his lifetime.

When I met Dr. King, "much of my political outlook was already in place," Belafonte later recalled. "I was fully dedicated to the civil rights struggle and well on my way. He confirmed the expectations I had brought to him.

Belafonte was cut off from the civil rights movement after King's passing. Stokely Carmichael and other "Black Power" militants turned him off, and he didn't get along well with the Rev. Ralph Abernathy, who was King's chosen successor. However, the entertainer's causes went far beyond the United States.

He played a part in the American public's introduction of South African activist and singer Miriam Makeba; the two shared a Grammy award in 1964 for their concert recording "An Evening With Belafonte/Makeba." Nelson Mandela's first trip to the United States upon his release from jail in 1990 was organised by him. A few years prior, he was the driving force behind the Grammy-winning, "We Are the World" all-star CD, which sold millions of copies and raised money for famine relief in Africa.

In 2022, Poitier passed away, but not before sharing a parallel life with Belafonte. The two Caribbean-born gentlemen moved to New York City and had their careers flourish in the performing arts after acting in The American Negro Theatre. Additionally, they served in World War II. While Poitier was a civil rights advocate, he grappled with balancing it with his love for performance. Belafonte rejected roles he deemed "neutered" while Poitier enjoyed a prosperous career as a leading actor and popular attraction in the 1960s. Although both were prominent performers during this time, Belafonte's passion for the craft waned.

"Sidney exuded a truly saintly poise and benevolence. Not me, Belafonte declared in his autobiography. Neither did I wish to tame my sexuality. In each of the roles he played, Sidney did it.

Belafonte possessed many human qualities. He admitted to having extramarital relationships, being a bad parent, and having a terrifying rage that was fueled by a lifetime of insecurity. He sighed and said, "Woe to the musician who missed his cue, or the agent who messed up a booking."

In his autobiography, he scolded Poitier for engaging in a "radical breach" by declining to play Mandela in a TV miniseries that Belafonte had envisioned and then accepting the role in a competing production. He grew so far from King's widow and kids that he wasn't invited to give a eulogy at her funeral. He later filed a lawsuit against three of King's children for access to some of the civil rights activist's personal files, alleging that the family was focused with "selling trinkets and memorabilia."

As a cultural adviser for the Peace Corps during the Kennedy administration and as a goodwill ambassador for UNICEF decades later, Belafonte did occasionally work for the government. He received the Grammy for lifetime achievement, the National Medal of Arts, the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award from the Motion Picture Academy, as well as countless other honorary awards for his work in music and movies. He took particular pride in being recognised with a New York Film Critics Award in 1996 for his performance as a gangster in Robert Altman's "Kansas City."

In his autobiography, he stated, "I'm as proud of that film critics' award as I am of all my gold records."

He had four kids and was married three times, most recently to photographer Pamela Frank. Shari, David, and Gina all went on to become actors. Eight grandchildren and two stepchildren are also left behind by him.

Harold George Bellanfanti Jr., the future Harry Belafonte, was born in Harlem in 1927. His mother, who was mostly Scottish, worked as a domestic; his father was a seaman and chef with Dutch and Jamaican descent. Belafonte recounted that both of her parents were undocumented immigrants who led "an underground life, as criminals of a sort, on the run."

Belafonte's father brutally beat him, and the family was violent; as a result, he was transferred to live with relatives in Jamaica for a while. Belafonte struggled with reading and dropped out of high school before enlisting in the Navy. He later realised that he was likely dyslexic. His political education began when he read "Colour and Democracy" by the Black scholar W.E.B. Du Bois while serving in the military.

He was employed in New York after the war as an assistant caretaker for a few apartment complexes. He was given complimentary tickets to a show at the American Negro Theatre, a community theatre for black actors, by a neighbour who thought highly enough of him to do so. Because he was so pleased, Belafonte first signed on as a volunteer before becoming an actor. Poitier and Belafonte were peers who were "skinny, brooding and vulnerable within our hard shells of self-protection," as Belafonte later recalled.

While enrolled in acting school at the New School for Social Research, Belafonte met Brando, Walter Matthau, and other future celebrities. Belafonte and Brando grew close, occasionally riding on Brando's motorbike, double dating or playing congas together at parties. Brando was an actor who inspired Belafonte. Friendships with everyone from Eleanor Roosevelt and Fidel Castro to Frank Sinatra and Lester Young would result from Belafonte's political and creative life throughout the years.

Early theatrical credits for him were "Days of Our Youth" and Sean O'Casey's "Juno and the Peacock," a production that Belafonte remembers less for himself than for a backstage admirer, actor, singer, and activist Paul Robeson.

"What I remember more than anything Robeson said, was the love he radiated, and the profound responsibility he felt, as an actor, to use his platform as a bully pulpit," Belafonte said in his autobiography. His advocacy for left-leaning organisations and relationship with Paul Robeson finally attracted the attention of the authorities. A visit from FBI agents and accusations of communism almost prevented him from appearing on "The Ed Sullivan Show." Leftists believed that Belafonte had provided names of alleged Communists so that he might appear on Sullivan's show, but Belafonte categorically refuted this.

By the 1950s, Belafonte had also taken up singing, landing concerts at the Blue Note, the Vanguard, and other clubs; Charlie Parker and Max Roach accompanied him for one performance; and he had begun to ingest folk, blues, jazz, and the calypso he had heard while living in Jamaica. Beginning in 1954, he put out top 10 albums like "Mark Twain and Other Folk Favourites" and "Belafonte," and his hit singles included "Mathilda," "Jamaica Farewell," and "The Banana Boat Song," a modified Caribbean classic that he added to his "Calypso" album after it had already been published.

In his biography, Belafonte said, "We found ourselves one or two songs short, so we threw in 'Day-O' as filler."

He was a celebrity, but he was also criticised and occasionally sued for appropriating classic works without splitting the proceeds. When Belafonte first declined to play "Day-O" live after giving televised performances against banana boat backdrops, he later expressed sorrow and voiced concern about being stereotyped as a calypso singer.

Belafonte was one of the few young performers to consider the financial side of entertainment. One of the first all-Black music publishing organisations was founded by him. In 1969, he produced "To Be Young, Gifted, and Black," an Off-Broadway production. He also produced plays, films, and television programmes. He was the first person of colour to produce on television.

By standing in for Johnny Carson on the "Tonight" programme for an entire week in 1968, Belafonte created history. Later that year, a straightforward, unplanned action triggered another significant event. Petula Clark's filmed TV special featured Belafonte, who sang alongside the British musician on the anti-war ballad "On the Path of Glory." Clark once put his hand on Belafonte's arm. Chrysler, the show's sponsor, insisted that the section be reshot. For the first time ever on primetime television, Clark and Belafonte successfully resisted when a white woman touched a Black man's arm.

In the 1970s, he made a comeback to acting in films, co-starring with Sidney Poitier in "Buck and the Preacher," a box office dud, and the boisterous and well-liked comedy "Uptown Saturday Night." Other films he has worked on include "Bobby," "White Man's Burden," appearances in "The Player" and "Ready to Wear," and the Altman-produced TV show "Tanner on Tanner." "Sing Your Song," a documentary on Belafonte, premiered on HBO in 2011.

Belafonte, who grew up in poverty, never considered himself to be an artist who later became an activist, but rather an activist who just so happened to be an artist.

Belafonte recalled his mother urging him as a child, "When you grow up, son, never go to bed at night knowing that there was something you could have done during the day to strike a blow against injustice and you didn't do it."