(845)
246-6944 · info@ArtTimesJournal.com
|
|
A
Final Farewell to the Late Great Gregory Hines
(Feb. 14,
1946– Aug. 9, 2002)
By
Francine L. Trevens
ART TIMES August 2005
That’s his fifty-seven
year life span: statistics. Read his bio on line – lists of his
films, TV shows and stage plays: factual data. What you cannot find is
the essence of this remarkable man. The
vibrant eagerness for challenge, the dedication to his work and his family,
the kindness to friends.
He had been raised on the stage – or rather, stages,
as part of the Hines Kids, then the Hines Brothers, and later Hines, Hines
and Dad, a frequently hired dance act. Dancing was as much a part of his life as family dinners used
to be for most youngsters. He
danced practically as soon as he walked, having begun dance lessons at
two. He was on stage a year
later. Dancing was in his genes, from the days his grandmother was a hoofer
at the famed Cotton Club. That
was one reason doing the COTTON CLUB film was such a kick for him.
While appearing in EUBIE! on Broadway almost 30 years
ago, Greg Hines not only performed 8 shows a week and various publicity
gigs, he also studied voice. Greg did almost as much singing in that musical
tribute to the great Eubie Blake as he did dancing. Still he was always
backstage early, often practicing and polishing his routines.
Greg’s handsome older brother Maurice was also in EUBIE!
TV shows requested “The Hines Brothers” to be their guests.
Maurice, busy establishing his own company, frequently refused. Occasionally he agreed, then canceled
at the last minute because of some problem. Soon the studios stopped asking for the brothers. They realized Greg was a great solo act.
It didn't happen spontaneously, however.
One day, cabbing back to the theatre from a TV gig with
his publicist, Greg jokingly said, “Make me a star!” They both laughed as she snapped her fingers,
but each of them knew he meant it.
After that, approaches to TV shows and major columnists
always ended with, “If you need a last minute interviewee or entertainer,
Greg will fill in at a moment’s notice.” The press agent said it and Greg meant it.
3 AM for a morning show, midnight for a late night one,
directly after a matinee then back to the theatre barely in time for the
night show’s half hour call – Greg was always available and always
appeared upbeat. He danced
his heart out before T. V. cameras, just as he did on stage. He spoke with interviewers in a relaxed,
jesting way they loved. He performed at special black pride events, great
American smoke-out events, and various other public appearances. He was always obliging, never demanding.
He could dance in a five by eight space as gracefully as on a long
deep stage. He accommodated every situation and made
it work for him. His warmth
and charm was apparent no matter what the situation.
He even went on TV one noontime to cook! It was a skill he learned when tap
was out of favor, and he left his native New York for California to tour
with a jazz-rock band.
The press admired him. Camera crews loved him. Fellow performers treasured him.
Audiences adored him.
But he wasn't all sweetness and light. There were lines you couldn't cross, and
a sense of justice with which you couldn't tamper. One particular incident
showed this other side.
|
|
He
and Pam Koslow, not yet his wife, were guests of an elegant restaurant
in gratitude for Greg’s magazine endorsement of the eatery.
He arrived on that sweltering summer day sans jacket. Before Greg
could introduce himself, the annoyed maitre d’ went to get him one.
As they waited, hungry Greg, tempted by a huge display of fresh
fruit, plucked an enormous blueberry and savored it. The maitre d’, outraged that Greg “desecrated” their lobby
art, made a scene, demanding they leave.
Patiently Greg attempted to reason with the man, but to no avail.
Greg and Pam departed.
The magazine’s press rep arranged for Greg to be invited
back. Greg refused to return
unless he received an apology. A letter was offered. Not good enough. He'd
been humiliated in public and insisted on a face-to-face apology.
Greg’s press agent was sure that would be impossible. To her amazement,
the magazine’s representative pulled it off. Greg met the man who had
humiliated him at the bar of that elegant restaurant. The maitre d’ sincerely
apologized, Greg graciously accepted and put the incident aside. Greg and Pam dined there that night, and several nights in
the future as well.
One Thanksgiving, Greg was called midday to fill in
for a canceling TV guest. Greg whispered something to his family, then
said he'd be ready in a few minutes. The limo picked him up in just that
– a few minutes! His family understood. By then, he was married
to Pam. Pam and their kids - his Daria, and her
Jessica (their Zach was not yet born) waited without complaint.
To his press agent, who had left a dozen dinner guests
at her apartment in order to escort him to the studio, he apologized for
“ruining” her Thanksgiving.
Greg, learned that day that she was hard pressed for
cash, so he hired her daughter as his baby sitter. He made it sound as if the young girl would be doing him a
favor! The sitter, impressed
by his marvelous relationship with both kids, frequently remarked what
an understanding and loving dad Greg was, and how much laughter there
was in the Hines household.
Some years later, Greg was earning big bucks, juggling
film and stage commitments. He
was now a major name in the entertainment field. He had been nominated
for several Tonys. (Later
he would win a Tony for JELLY’S LAST JAM). His former press agent called
and asked him to dance at a small fund-raiser for her other daughter's inner
city kids theatre company, TADA! — where children performed for
children.
He hesitated only a moment before agreeing to do it
“just for the kids.”
There were other performers at the big school auditorium
that night, but he was the high spot of that fund raising evening.
When it was time for his performance, he assembled the
whole TADA! Troupe on stage. There
these little kids sat, agile legs tucked beneath them, facing the audience
and facing Greg. The dancer
donned his dancing shoes while kibitzing with the children. Then he danced,
explaining some of the steps as he danced them. As he promised, he did it for the
kids – facing them, his back to the audience! It brought down the house!
Greg soon became a mega-star. He was in film after film, TV show after
TV show. Awards and kudos
were justifiably lavished on him. He'd won Grammies and Emmys and the
NAACP Image Awards. He was
choreographing, directing, emceeing TV specials. It seemed there was nothing in show business he could not do.
One night, he and Pam arrived at a theatrical restaurant
as his press agent from early days was leaving it with her two daughters.
He hadn't seen them since the TADA! event. Greg whirled his old
agent in the air. They exchanged quick updates on their
lives before bidding farewell. Little
did she realize it was the final farewell.
T. V. announced his passing, too young, too soon, too
sudden, for those who had not known of his ailing. But how like this considerate,
generous man to suffer in silence and leave the world with only wonderful
memories.
Memories from movies that can have you holding sides
aching from laughter or swallowing a sympathetic sob. Stage moments where his feet seemed to be two birds dancing
on their own. Television
memories of his huge, soulful eyes alight with such intensity.
When you hear rumbling in the heavens – when the
air fairly crackles around you - think of it as Greg Hines tapping a dance
number. I, his early days
press agent, forever will!