CLEO
PARKER
ROBINSON

A woman of influence,
influenced by the
women in her life

By LOIS H. FEINSTEIN
Photography KIT WILLIAMS

Try it again and make sure those left legs are all moving in the same direction,” suggests the beautiful woman in a soft, throaty voice. It’s not so much a command as a suggestion from Cleo Parker Robinson to her dancers sweating through a mid-August rehearsal on the ground floor of the AME church in Denver’s Five Points that serves as her company’s rehearsal space.

At work, the renowned choreographer/dancer/arts ambassador and founder of Cleo Parker Robinson Dance acts more like an earth mother than a taskmaster. Wearing a chartreuse tank and multi-colored wrap skirt, Cleo Parker Robinson has a classic dancer’s bearing. Her large, expressive eyes sweep over her troupe at work, noting a missed beat here, an awkward elbow there. Corrections are offered with a gentle “Try it this way, baby,” and her dancers not only accept the instruction, but offer input of their own.

There’s lots of give and take among the members of the Cleo Parker Robinson Dance company, Denver’s premier dance troupe, which is recognized throughout the world as an innovator of cross-cultural dance rooted in African-American traditions. The majority of the dancers, though not all, are African-American, and all of them look like normal, albeit highly talented and muscular human beings. There’s not a trace of the “heroin chic” dancer look that is the hallmark of so many dance companies.

Robinson and company are in day two of rehearsal for a new program, Isis Rising, set to open in September. The reference to the Egyptian goddess Isis —the goddess of rebirth, magic and femininity — is deliberate. All the dances in the program have been choreographed by women, although Robinson is not presenting any of her own works.

The choreographer has always been fascinated by all things Egyptian. “With a name like Cleo, how could I not be?” she quips. Sitting in her small office above the rehearsal space, Robinson speaks about her 1999 visit to the land of the pyramids and her longtime interest in the queens who ruled there. She is especially taken with the story of Queen Hatsepshut, the longest ruling of the female pharaohs. “It’s fascinating to me how she was able to rule for seven years, wield that much power and yet not wage any war,” the choreographer muses.

Women of power and influence have played a large part in the development of the nearly 40-year career of this woman whose achievements are remarkable in their own right. Robinson has served on the National Endowment for the Arts panels on the arts and was appointed by President Bill Clinton to the National Council on the Arts in 1999. Last year she received a Kennedy Center Medal of Honor as a Master of African-American choreography.

Since her company’s inception in 1970, Robinson has collaborated with Dr. Maya Angelou, Gordon Parks and choreographers Donald McKayle, Talley Beatty, Dianne McIntyre and Katherine Dunham. She has choreographed operas and created dances to be presented in conjunction with the Colorado Symphony Orchestra and the Denver Center Theatre Company. The group has performed throughout Europe, Africa, Asia and Central America and appeared at some of the most prestigious dance festivals throughout the United States, including Jacob’s Pillow, Lincoln Center and the Kennedy Center.

Cleo Parker was born in Denver to a family for whom the arts were an integral part of life. By age 15, she was teaching college-level dance at the University of Colorado, and by the time she graduated from the Colorado Women’s College (now the University of Denver), she had formed her own company.

It was while recruiting students for her company that she met Marceline Freeman, who became one of the troupe’s principal dancers as well as rehearsal director, company teacher and indispensable advisor to Cleo Parker Robinson. “Marcy danced every day for 34 years,” Robinson recalls. “I could talk to her about anything. She was my everything.” It was Marcy Freeman who became the linchpin of the company’s annual holiday concert, Granny Dances to a Holiday Drum.

However, during last year’s “Granny” run, Freeman lost her sight, a tremendous blow to the entire company. No longer able to dance, Freeman turned the potential tragedy into something positive. “What I saw was something really beautiful between Marcy and her understudy, Bennalldra Williams,” the company’s founder remembers. “Marcy passed on all her tools to the next generation. And Bennalldra received it with such grace.”

Marcy Freeman is just one of the many strong women whom Cleo Parker Robinson admires for their distinctly feminine power. She likens her female mentors to Moses, a comparison she admits is unusual but apt. “There’s a powerful leadership quality in us that many women have not tapped,” she says thoughtfully. “We haven’t been celebrating it enough.”

One of Robinson’s earliest introductions to the power of the feminine came through her study at Colorado Women’s College with Rita Berger, a former dancer with George Balanchine and soloist with the Metropolitan Opera. However, she cites the legendary choreographer and humanitarian Katherine Dunham as the greatest influence on her life, both in the world of dance and in general. When she mentions Dunham’s name, Robinson’s face takes on an almost otherworldly look, as though she is trying to communicate with the choreographer who was known as the “matriarch of black dance” and who passed away last June.

As a youngster, Robinson first learned of Katherine Dunham’s remarkable achievements. She felt an immediate connection to this pioneer, who started her own dance company at a time when women, especially women of color, were not encouraged to do so and choreographed Aida for the Metropolitan Opera in the early 1960s. She was especially intrigued with Dunham’s background in anthropology, and the older woman’s philosophy that dance is a language that not only showcases a culture, but crosses cultural barriers. It’s a tenet of Cleo Parker Robinson Dance as well that “dance transcends the boundaries of culture and class.”

Determined to meet the woman who inspired her life’s direction, Robinson went to New York in the ‘60s when she heard that Dunham would be teaching a class there. Learning that Dunham was ill, Robinson skipped the class, but was fortunate enough to meet up with the choreographer’s daughter, Martinique.

A few years later, when the Cleo Parker Robinson troupe was touring black colleges across the United States, she did finally have the opportunity to meet Katherine Dunham. Their bonding was instantaneous, and Robinson vowed to carry on Dunham’s legacy any way that she could.

Robinson was soon admitted into Dunham’s tightly guarded inner circle. She traveled frequently to East St. Louis to visit “Miss Dunham,” as Robinson always refers to her, and discussed dance and life in general. “She was a grand woman with a tremendous sense of humor, even when her financial circumstances were less than optimal,” Robinson remembers. “She firmly believed that nothing ever happened by chance, and she accepted even the most adverse situations with grace.”

It’s a lesson that Robinson has taken to heart this past year, having lost Dunham, her nephew and her mother, as well as dealing with Freeman’s blindness and her inability to contribute to the dance company. Yet she perseveres with grace and optimism, running Cleo Parker Robinson Dance along with her husband, Thomas Robinson, one of the company’s founding members and its business manager.

Where does Cleo Parker Robinson see herself 20 years from now? With a gleam in her eye she speaks of raising her grandchildren, just as her son and booking manager, Malik, walks into the office. She gives him a mischievous smile. “I want to take them all over the world with me and explore the world in the most wonderful way. But overall, I’m grateful to be able to continue to do the things I’m doing,” she says.

Granny Dances to a Holiday Drum will run in December. At press time the venue had not been finalized. Call (303) 295-1759 for details.

Lois Feinstein is a Denver freelance writer who has contributed to 5280 and Inside Cherry Creek magazines.