A.L.T. R.I.P.

“Nowadays people are baptized at Mt. Sinai as they are in many churches, in a small pool behind the altar.  But when I was a child, people were baptized by full immersion, so the church maintained a baptismal pool down at the bottom of the woods behind the cemetery.  This pool was, I think, full of rainwater; it didn’t seem to have either a manmade or a natural source, but was simply a concrete pool with steps leading down into it.  I don’t know where the water came from, but it always had a murky, yellow appearance.”[i]

In the late 1970s I lived in a cottage in the woods near Durham, North Carolina, surrounded by the Duke Forest.  Exploring, one day I came upon a concrete basin, filled with dark, spooky water.  It was alone in the woods, with no apparent evidence of humans nearby.  I returned later, watercolors in hand, and made a painting of this mysterious pool. 

 At the time, I did not connect the pool—about 6’ wide by 8’ long, of unknowable depth--with a small brick church near the long dirt driveway to my home.  Nor did I notice that the road I traveled from Durham, Mt. Sinai Road, had the same name as that small church.  I wasn’t familiar with immersion baptism, and would never have dreamt that a baptismal pool might be located in what seemed to be the middle of a forest.

 Decades later, reading André Leon Talley’s autobiography, I made the connection.  I had casually followed his spectacular, improbable career for much of my adult life.  An occasional reader of Vogue, I came across his picture often, and recognized his astonishing sense of style.  In Andy Warhol’s Interview magazine, I recall photos of New York’s 1980s nightlife, including Mr. Talley’s monumental, glorious presence. 

I read his memoir, André Leon Talley, A Memoir, with admiration and surprise, especially as I learned that he grew up in Durham, where I went to college.  He told stories of growing up not far from where I had lived while in school, and, of his beloved grandmother, Bennie Frances Davis, his surrogate mother.  He made connections between her style, her dignity, and her aesthetic sensibility, all of which informed his life at the pinnacle of the fashion world.  He also told stories of the Mt. Sinai Baptist Church, founded in 1870s by former slaves, and of his baptism in that spooky pool.  It was clear that, despite his world travels and worldly success, Durham held a special place in his heart.  I loved his autobiography then, and now.

I had not thought of Mr. Talley for years, until I read of his passing in January 2022, in his New York Times obituary.  It reminded me, again, of his improbable, extraordinary life, from segregated Durham to Brown University, Paris, New York, and the world.  Then in January 2023 the Times Style section ran another story, this time about Mr. Talley’s estate, to be auctioned by Christie’s.  Speculation had swirled about the estate, and which charities would benefit from his collection of clothing, objects, and personal gifts from fashion world elites.

Mr. Talley’s will was very specific.  There were to be two beneficiaries:  The Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem, where he worshipped throughout his adult life, and the Mount Sinai Missionary Baptist Church in Durham, North Carolina.

 André Leon Talley.  May he rest in peace.

[i] André Leon Talley, A.L.T. André Leon Talley, A Memoir, Villard Books, NYC, 2003, page 67.