Dancing Into The Light
Celebrity children often live in the shadows of their famous kin. Media spotlights generally pit the high achievement of siblings against siblings, or parent against their progeny still struggling to discover and develop his/her own distinctive voice and vocation. For an only child, the pressure to achieve can be exponentially greater with no one to help offset the public scrutiny. Not so for Leo Holder, a gifted graphic artist and asst. art director of film and television (A Beautiful Mind, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, The Inside Man, Law & Order, Bored to Death, etc.) who also happens to be the son and only child of Geoffrey Holder and Carmen de Lavallade, two of our greatest, uber-creative, cultural icons. Leo says, “The only pressure I felt coming up was the pressure I put on myself.” Raised on the road alongside this internationally demanded dance duo, he described his upbringing as, “… the most normal life… as normal as that kind of bohemian lifestyle can be.” He did not have special tutors nor was he home-schooled during their global gypsy treks. He was enrolled in the local schools of whatever country/city/village they happened to be in. His education was also steeped in the firsthand creativity in development that surrounded him, from his parents, the music, musicians, and dancers to visual artists who constantly dropped by and sometimes even lived with them. Leo’s learning was vast and eclectic, compared to most.
He says the greatest lessons his parents taught him were, “The importance of: loyalty, artistic mentoring and generosity. They are very loyal. (They mentored a battery of artistic hopefuls who remain family today). When you’re secure with yourself, you freely share everything. The people they looked up to, (for example) Josephine Baker – the star of stars of stars of stars, were so generous to them.” Even so, it is remarkably generous and fitting that Leo shared with the world, in heartfelt recollection, “The most incredible night” of helping his beloved and celebrated father, Geoffrey Holder, dance through his transition from this life to the next. After nine frustrating days of the Intensive Care Unit in St. Luke’s Roosevelt hospital, this danseur noble was infuriated by a cumbersome breathing tube down his throat (that he tried to remove twice), and wires and restraints (to keep him from removing the breathing tube) that kept him grounded when he most wanted to soar. Struggling to make his desires and demands understood, Geoffrey Holder would often rage. Being prone and hampered 24/7 was insufferable for the 84-year-old Trinidadian native accustomed to lofty unimpeded views, not only because at 6’6” he towered over most, but because his multifaceted talents raised him higher and higher to establish him, sometimes against all odds, as a pacesetting game changer. Geoffrey Holder’s rich, melodic, bass was the signature 7-Up voice used to rout for the Un-cola on television and radio during the 1970s and 80s. His strong and confident, yet playful, delivery belied his humiliating stammer from grade school through early manhood.
Geoffrey Holder was the first person of African descent to be nominated for the coveted Tony Awards for Best Director and Best Costume Designer for the 1975 Broadway Musical “The Wiz,” and he won both those awards as well as a Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Costume Design; “Timbuktu!” got him a third Tony Award Nomination for Best Costume Design and garnered two more Drama Desk Award Nominations for Outstanding Choreography and Outstanding Costume Design in 1978; early in his career Geoffrey Holder was a principal dancer with the Metropolitan Opera Ballet in NYC, and taught at the Katherine Dunham School of Dance; he published “Geoffrey Holder’s Caribbean Cookbook” and has been the subject for several books and documentaries including “Carmen and Geoffrey” (2005) that chronicled the careers of his and his ravishing and gifted dancer bride of 50 years at that point, Carmen de Lavallade; Holder received a Guggenheim Fellowship for painting, and his photography, sculptures and paintings have been displayed internationally in galleries and museums; his choreography, music and costumes are part of the repertory of both the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater (“Prodigal Prince”) and the Dance Theater of Harlem (“Dougla,” “Banda” and (costumes only) “Firebird”); he was also a film actor and choreographer (“Live and Let Die,” “Annie,” “Boomerang,” and “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex * but Were Afraid to Ask,” to name a few). And he mastered these multifarious forms of art without benefit of formal training save for Arthur Aldwyn Holder aka Boscoe, a brother 9 years his senior also accomplished as a dancer and painter whom Geoffrey emulated. Leo said his father was “a sponge when it came to observing.” Boscoe recruited 7-year-old baby brother Geoffrey to join his Holder Dance Company and the rest is history. Broadway beckoned me to New York City from my Cleveland, Ohio origins. In 1978, I saw my first Broadway show -Timbuktu! – directed, choreographed and costumed by the legendary Geoffrey Holder. Before the curtains rose, while the house lights were gradually being extinguished, African drums began a soft tempo that slowly built as a man, wearing an African headdress and intricate garb reminiscent of the long grasses of an African savannah, nimbly danced his way across the stage… on stilts! 22 years later I got a chance to thank Mr. Holder for that incredible Broadway introduction. I explained how after the show I searched for him in the lobby and the backstage door area of the Mark Hellinger Theatre (now the Times Square Church @ 51st Street) to let him know how Timbuktu! had captured my heart and soul back then, and still holds me to this day. I told him that I had yet to act on Broadway, but the possibility of being a part of something as grand and glorious as Timbuktu! keeps me hopeful and performing. I told him that since my Broadway baptism I had since seen literally thousands of plays, dances, ballets, and operas both stateside and abroad and my favorite dance is still, and I believe will always be, “Birds of Paradise.” The towering and distinguished Holder visibly melted into a gentle giant and with a sigh and a warm smile purred, “I’ve always been partial to that one myself.” In an NPR article dated October 9, 2014 entitled “’This Impromptu Dance’: Geoffrey Holder’s Son Tells One More Story,” Leo Holder described the final magnificent moments of his father’s life. Leo had been the best interpreter of his father’s cryptic, soundless communications through mouthed words and eye expressions. Leo understood that “(his father) was done… (and) was sincerely good with (dying).” Then, after nine irksome days dappled with a few respites when close friends and extended family paid a visit, Leo got an epiphany. This particular Saturday evening, Leo brought “Bill Evans with Symphony Orchestra,” music he knew inspired his father, and played it for him. Geoffrey immediately focused and began to sway in his bed. He then lifted his arms and began to dance. “In his bed. Purest of spirits.” He implored his son to join hands with him. When Leo did, Geoffrey pulled himself up taller in the bed, as though reaching for the heavens. “It was then I broke the code: he was telling me he was going to dance his way out… This impromptu dance was his dress rehearsal.” The next day a long procession of his closest family and friends from around the world had come to commune with love and laughter, then his muse and bride of 59 years filled her tender private moments with meaningful looks and caresses and left him with a note. Now, it was time for Geoffrey’s grand finale performance accompanied by Bill Evans’ recording of Faure’s Pavane with Leo as sole attendee. The breathing tube was removed, the music played and Geoffrey Holder began his deathbed dance rocking gently back and forth, arms and hands in graceful flight. Leo whispered, “shoulders” and his father’s shoulders rolled like waves. “His musical timing still impeccable… as if playing his own duet with Evans’ piano.” The music finished when Geoffrey’s dance did. The hospital personnel, having been apprised of Geoffrey’s final wish, now came in and administered a morphine drip to help him relax and slipped on an oxygen mask. Leo played different music for his bedside vigil. 20 minutes passed and his father’s breathing was weaker, but there was a distinct pattern to it. Leo moved in closer and heard: “’2, 3, 4… 2, 3, 4… ‘ It gets stronger… then he says ‘Arms, 2, 3, 4, Turn, 2, 3, 4 Swing, 2, 3, 4, Down, 2, 3, 4…’” The morphine had been dripping for over half an hour and this majestic artiste was choreographing his exit! A doctor entered to record the machine stats and Leo asked if this behavior was common. She started explaining and Master Holder’s “closed eyes burst open… and he (roared) … ‘SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUP!! YOU’RE BREAKING MY CONCENTRATION!!!!!!!’… then he (closed) his eyes again, ‘Arms, 2, 3, 4, Turn, 2, 3, 4, Swing, 2, 3, 4…’” and counted through to his last breath, arriving in the afterlife, I’m sure, like a wondrous firebird in paradise. This loving son called it, “The most incredible night of my life.” Thank you Leo. You can read Leo’s article in his own words on his mother’s Facebook page: Carmen de Lavallade. If you go there, make sure you ‘like’ her page.