“You can cage the singer but not the song”
-Harry Belafonte
Last month, I was taken on a trip down memory lane. My colleague Eric—a man who endures a ritual I began last year wherein students are welcomed with music on the last day of the week while we patrol the front of the building, usually accompanied by my attempt at singing and dance moves that certainly support the “white guys can’t dance narrative”— informed me that Harry Belafonte had passed away. The welcome music that morning was obviously a fitting tribute to the “King of Calypso,” and as I attempted to do a salsa/merengue combination while belting out Jump in the Line, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was back in 1988, riding shotgun in our Astrovan and listening to my Dad’s Belafonte at Carnegie Hall cassette tape.
Harold George Belafonte Jr.’s life journey and the people he kept company with were both quite remarkable. The time spent in a segregated US Navy during WW2 was an experience that led him to champion civil rights throughout his life, endearing him to the likes of President John F. Kennedy, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Bobby Kennedy. While enrolled at The New School Dramatic Workshop—something made possible by the G.I. Bill—he began to supplement his income by singing in Manhattan night clubs, a decision that would catapult him to fame and fortune, something he used to leverage support for wholesale change in American society.
No musician—maybe besides Elvis Presley—had more range when it came to the types of music Belafonte could masterfully sing. Here is a quick top five—in no particular order—according to The Empathetic Fox. Click on the link to hear each selection.
Hava Nagila. While studying at Manhattan’s New School, Harry befriended the likes of talented Jewish entertainers Bea Arthur and Walter Matthau, and among his first singing gigs were ones at Jewish resorts in the Catskill Mountains. Anyone that has attended a Jewish wedding has most likely heard his version of the song. According to Belafonte, “Most Jews in America learned that song from me.” Later in life he wrote that his pride in the Jewish culture could be traced to a Dutch Jewish paternal grandfather. There is nothing quite like experiencing his version of the song while a bride and groom are lifted up in their chairs as friends and family dance around them. Here is a video with his rendition from 1959.
When The Saints Go Marching In. The best cover of this song ever done. I know. I know. You are probably thinking, “what about Louis Armstrong’s version?” All I can say is that his take on this song—especially the one from the Carnegie Hall concert—transports you to New Orleans. Rest assured, it’s the only rendition of the tune that incorporates the bongo drums. You hear it, and suddenly feel the urge to dance while holding a parasol or an umbrella—even if it is at a funeral!
John Henry. Harry Belafonte was very fond of folk music, in particular old Negro Spirituals like John Henry. His version of the tune tells the story of the legendary African American and the famous contest between the strapping steel driver and a steam drill machine. There is evidence that the story is based on real events which occurred at some point between 1870 and 1872 during the building of The Big Bend Tunnel in West Virginia. After hearing the song, most undoubtedly believe that there must have been a man that “worked so hard he broke his heart,” like many of those that built our railway system. Their contributions to this country are remembered in the story of the John Henry whose “hammer was strikin’ fire” while laying track for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroads.
Jump In The Line. Best known for the song's appearance at the end of the 1988 film, Beetlejuice. One would be hard-pressed to find a more upbeat song ever sung. The movie also featured The Banana Boat Song, or as most know it, Day-O, and introduced Harry Belafonte to more recent generations, including my youngest daughter Jane, who has told me that she wants Jump In The Line to be the song we dance to at her wedding—something I am in no hurry to get to yet!
Matilda. Covering a song that predates his singing career, Belafonte elevates this story of a woman who takes a man for all he is worth, and somehow makes it sound as if it’s the story of a man that hits the lottery due to its upbeat rhythm and tempo. The bongo drums have never sounded so good as they do in this Calypso classic about a thief who takes the money and runs to Venezuela. Throughout the song Harry Belafonte implores the audience to sing along every time he shouts out, “Sing out the chorus!” Which of course everyone does.
There are many adjectives for the late, great Harry Belafonte. He lived an incredible 96 years. Maybe the best among them would be the word incomparable: “Without an equal in quality or extent; matchless.” He bravely fought for those “caged” by our society throughout his life while at the same time showing millions how the power of song can set us free.
-Tommy O’Sionnach
I remember hearing his music in the 1950’s. I especially liked the Banana Boat Song. The song was very popular. Thank you!
A wonderful tribute! So many things I didn’t know including the fact he was a Navy veteran.