Black Horizons; 3703; Wilson's Honor

Hello, and welcome to a special edition of Black Horizons, I'm your host, Chris Moore. Here at Black Horizons, we're saluting the legacy of Pittsburgh native and playwright, August Wilson. He was a few lights of prize winner and a Tony award winner, a Broadway success, and a record seven times New York drama critic, Circle Prize winner, that never stopped writing, creating or learning until it's all too early death recently at the age of 60. I have the opportunity to first meet Wilson and talk with him back in 1988 when we talked about his days in the library and his time in the Hill District. August Wilson has achieved the type of a claim that many writers long for. He's worked hard to get where he is, but he's never forgotten where he started. Wilson visits Pittsburgh at least twice each year, and those visits call up old memories. Memories whose namesake still live in word and deed. Rod Penny and I started this theater in 1968 because we were concerned and we were involved in

what we call the Black Power Movement in those days, and we were concerned with politicizing the community and raising the consciousness of the people, so one of the ways being that we were both artists, the ways of we found our involvement in the movement was to create art, and theater was a way of doing that. So we started a theater called the Black Horizons Theater. Your mother had a great influence on your life, didn't she? Well, of course, I think the person I am today is because she was the person that she was in her teaching, and for her, as I suspect, for most parents of her generation, education was essential. If you always want better for your children, you have for yourself, and one of the ways to get that, of course, was education, and you had to know how to read. So she taught us all, everyone in the family at a very early age, I learned how to read when I was four years old, and I had my library card when I was five, and she encouraged reading. We had reading sessions at home, because she realized that reading could unlock the knowledge and

being on that, she was a very principled person who taught us to respect ourselves, and likewise to respect others. Play that brought Wilson, his first wide critical acclaim, was Marr reigning's Black Bottom. Seen here in rehearsal is the Cuntu Repertory Theatre's production of Marr reigning, which played to packed houses. The characters are well -defined and step off the pages of the script to become real people we have all known. I've looked at the leader, tell you what kind of band this is, so you don't let the leader get started. You can't even spell music much less play it. What you mean, I spell music, I'm out of doubt, that's better. You learned by doing, that's the best possible way to learn, is to learn by doing, and if you're following your heart, I believe you will not lead you to the wrong place, it's by following your heart and being able and willing to confront yourself, to confront

your demons, is what, in fact, allows your angels to sing. What demons have you had to confront? Many, and they are varied and nameless, but they are certainly there, and now I've gotten to the point where I know them so well on a first -name basis, and I'm the boss, and it's been a long while to get there. Tell me about the Pulitzer Prize. It means a lot to me, and I'm very honored and delighted to have won it. I don't know what it means beyond that, I like to win another one. It's a sure bit that Wilson will win a second Pulitzer, and many other awards also. Perhaps nothing speaks more of his determination to succeed than the story of how he purchased his first typewriter. My oldest sister was born in the University. She called and asked me if I would write her a paper on Robert Frost and Carl Sandberg as write on two poets, and I chose Robert

Frost and Carl Sandberg, and she sent me $20, and which in 1965, $20 was a lot of money, and certainly was a lot to spend in one place. And I took it down to McFarren's typewriter store in Liberty Avenue, and they had a royal typewriter, and when it was $20, they gave it a man, my $20, and I think he won it 63 cents tax, and I said, you know, I don't have this, this is it, this is all I got, this $20. And he said, you know, take it, he's glad to get rid of it, so let me forego the tax. And I walked out, and I realized I didn't have bus fare home. I was living on Crawford Street at the time, at their Crawford Center, so I carried this typewriter all the way up the house and clopped it down on my kitchen table, and it was from that moment that I decided that I was going to be a writer, and I just spent $20 on this thing, so I'm sure it better make it work. And then I started writing in 1965. Wilson has worked very hard since then honing and refining his

writing skills, but his true greatness is his ability to bring everyday people vividly to life. That's what makes art vibrant, and that's what makes people become engaged and respond, you know, to plays and to work, is because it's characters that they recognize. You know, that's Michael Charlie, that's Michael Joe, I know him, that's the man on the street, and also when he arrived at, that's me, so when he did that, then you got him. All right. August Wilson was a soft -spoken, easy -going, hard -working artist who thought big. He believed he was capable of writing a 10 -place cycle that illustrated African -American life in the 10 decades of the 20th century, and he did that. Joining me are three men who knew him well, professionally and personally, who acted in or directed many of his plays. Lou Bellamy is the founder and artistic director of Penumbra Theatre Company, a member of the University of Minnesota's faculty and an accomplished actor and director. Ron O .J. Parson is an actor as

well as the co -founder and co -artistic director of the Onyx Theatre Ensemble, Chicago's newest African -American based theatre company. And last but certainly not least is Steven McKinley -Henison, a faculty member and former chair of the Department of Theatre and Dance at the University of Buffalo. Henderson has appeared in and directed many of Wilson's plays. Gentlemen, welcome to all of you, and thank you for coming. I know you're here in town to attend August Wilson's ceremonies, and we were talking Mr. Bellamy just before the start. And I think everybody was kind of understanding that there are a whole lot of people in which they could be here in Pittsburgh to see August Wilson all, but can't make it from all over the world. Oh, yeah. I'm sure that all of us, if we were talking earlier, have heard from people, from Germany, from London, wherever they scatter, actors have to find work. So they're going to go and find that work, wherever it is. But yeah, everyone wants to be here, and everyone

recognizes the import of that man's life and the work that he's left for us to do. Certainly, there have been great playwrights in the black tradition. I see Davis with Perle Victorius, and many others that we could name. The list would be endless. But what do you think August Wilson, OJ, brought to the American theater? I read a comment by him once that he talked about American theater is really out of the European tradition, and it won't really be American theater till more diversity is added and more voices are heard. Do you think he's right there? Well, yeah. I think also through the legacy that he's leaving with the 10 decades of African American experience. For me, too, the way that the spirits of African Americans speak through his characters, and whenever you're acting in them or directing them, you kind of feel that spirit come through you when you're working. I mean, directing them, especially getting ready to direct

fences in Chicago, and because of, you know, there's the death scene, and there's a lot of spirit in it that is going to be brought out just by reading the words. You know, even if you're not performing the play, if you read the play, you're going to get a lot of that spirit in you, too. So I think the legacy that he's leaving and all the people that have experienced either acting, directing, or working on his plays for forever. You know, like Shakespeare, we still do Shakespeare. I think we're going to do August Wilson on into the next century. Do you think that's true? Oh, absolutely. And I just wanted to say, I haven't directed August plays. I've acted it. And for a person who grew up, you know, I was more than 49, but I started studying acting and loving theater, you know, early out of Kansas City. And you don't get to have the career you would, you know, have for yourself. That's not in your hands, but the level of craft you have, that's in your hands, you know. So it doesn't matter how old you get or what kind of career you're having. You're still working on your craft. Well, when a playwright like

this comes along, you see, you can't have been working your craft for years and years and years, and sitting back and saying, you know, if I, but to go and do that play, or any role in there, and I envy the young actors who are going to be able to start off playing the children and Joe Turner, and go all the way to playing, you know, Solid Two Kings, you know what I'm saying? They get a chance to have those roles, and that's because that's why when you bring up Shakespeare, those actors who got to cut their teeth young and learn to do that, I envy the pentameter and all that, so they have these careers that span from Romeo to King Lear. Well, to have a poet, a national poet, and I'm talking about America's national poet, because it's African Americans straight up, you ain't no doubt about that. But you see, you know, you know, I remember here in the brother in Harlem, so he's, you know, the blues don't come from being black. The blues come from being black in America, because you were black long before you came here. You didn't have the blues till you got it. So, but this particular poet

playwright is leaving a legacy in this hundred years of plays that he did in 10 installments that is going to raise the level of craft for everybody in the game. Stephen talks about raising that level of craft. What do you think August Wilson did for the language? I remember him saying to me one time that he used to write the red hawk sword, majestically above the scene, looking down, and he fell away from that, and he found our vernacular, which I think we appreciate so much. Sure we do, and he gave us a way to be proud of it. One of the things that he's capable of doing and does in many of those plays is he raises the experience of everyday people to just epic proportions so that we get a chance to see how the common everyday man does these monumental things just going to work. And because he's a poet, he says it so

beautifully. And I think that as an actor and as a director, as someone who teaches this literature, we can go as deep into that work as we're capable of going forever. And we will keep on finding new discoveries, finding more about black people, finding more about ourselves every time we go into them. All of us have played these roles, and I know when you go into those roles, you find out something about yourself. It's like a spiritual experience. I don't want to go here, maybe, but it's in here. And you gain that respect for those ancestors that you know. You got them in your bones and in your blood, but the ones that you knew, you realize they were doing a heroic thing going to that gig, and when they work out their problems together, you know, they make you going back in there with her and say, well, let's

work this thing out because that's the only way we have a legacy if the men and women work it out, you know what I mean? And all this just keeps leading you to all those hard -to -clean places, you know what I mean? And showing the style, the level of style and grace and beauty, but it's grit, you know. And I tell you, as an educator, you know, you look when you see those talents come along. You say, you want to challenge them, and you say, for a long time, the people that thought the most of us, they said, well, I want to challenge you, I'm going to give you what I consider my greatest. So they would give us the Greeks, the shakes, because they would say, you know, because if you've got a talent, work on the best. Well, you see, you don't have to go there all the time. And then that was always the case. I mean, you know, Pennsbury and Baldwin and all that. But what he did by laying down that body of work like that in that form is really like, you know, what went and has been able to do a Giulia to have that jazz center there. There was a time that you couldn't get, you know, you start blowing one of those notes, and they tell you to get

on out of there. Well, now... Blue and is it is written on the page? Right, exactly. Well, you know, to have gone to, from 1996, here in Pittsburgh, to work on Jitney, here in Pittsburgh with all this Wilson, and walked the streets of the Hill District, and go to the Crawford Bridge and all that. And to take that to the Royal National, the Royal National Theatre of Great Britain, and having win the Olivier Award for all this, you understand, and I've been the Stratford and see how reverently they walk through the streets of Stratford, as well as they should. But to come to Pittsburgh, to be welcome in this town, because we're coming from other places, right? But you come here and see faces that you know, and you've known through him, and past streets, like you were asking before, all you got to do is just look at the street day, man. You know, Bedford, and... Well, I tell you, whatever I pass, St. Benedict More, that, you know, that the brothers up there, you know, that thing that all this chism, yet he chism would love to tell you, Kalsa. He's told him that

he's faced the wrong way. He's faced blessing, you know, one way, but... Turn around and bless up this way, you know. And, of course, the blessing is going in 360 degrees, so we... But I understand what my man's talking about. You know, that was the urban renewal, and... Yeah, yeah. You tell us urban renewal means Negro removal, but that part of the Hill was the jumper, it was the crossroads of the world. It's Mary -D, a famous black DJ called it. And so it was that area that St. Benedict was blessing. Yeah. But now it's all changed. Oh, yeah. So a picture of what it was at... Billy Eck's time, Sarah Vaughn and... And kind of, I think it was. All of them up in the Crawford Grill. Oh, yeah. Yeah. Another famous local photographer to those senior artists. Also, the other thing that he's done is... To exercise the craft and talent that these people are capable of showing. It was thought you had to go outside of the black experience to do that. You couldn't stretch yourself until you did

check off. You couldn't stretch yourself until you did Shakespeare. Well, I'll say in a minute, I don't have to do Lear. I did Troy Maxson. I don't need to do Lear, because this man gave us enough to do inside of who we are playing to our strong points that we don't have to go outside to do that. Can you recognize that every day working people, particularly black people, had worth? Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. And I think I think I add to what you had said a minute ago when Louis was talking about the spiritual experience. Like you say, it's like testifying. When you're talking about the experience of doing one of these plays and being in one of these plays, it's that kind of experience spiritually. You know, some of... You're learning a lot about yourself. You're learning a lot about your culture. And you're learning a lot about the craft, you know. And this... At one time, I was in Chicago, because a lot of August plays have premiered in Chicago. And I was riding with him and a guy named Alfred Wilson, who started the August... or on exterior with me. And

August was riding in. He was working out of Jim and he opened the heavens and never changed. And Alfred says, what would you work on? He said, yeah, I've got this other thing coming up. And Alfred just said, my friends just said, well, how do you start? He said, man, they just talk to me. The people just talk to me, man. I write it down. You know, you raise the thing. When I came here in 1980, I talked to... And about 82, 83, I became familiar with his work through Jitney. I saw that production right here. Ron Johnson Thea, the company put it together. And it was absolutely phenomenal. And I loved it. And I started talking to people about August and every... And of course, everybody in Pittsburgh knew him in. You know, oh, yeah, I know him. I know him. We used to wonder what was wrong with him, because he was always sitting in the back of his head. He was smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee and writing. And he'd walk around and just scribbled a note. So those habits may die hard. But people wondered about him before he got all this fame. What was his muse? What moved him? Well, you don't... I'll see. When you talk about it, how much a poet can mean to a city? When we came here in 96 and August revisited Jitney, and

he wrote on it for quite a while. But we went to a party, and that was thrown by the people who did the show in 82. They welcomed us in in such a way. You know what I mean? But they were letting us know, you know, straight out now. You know what I mean? You know, where did Jitney do that? I mean, let's get that straight. But what really... It was so wonderful to see the pride that they were welcoming us. But at the same time, you know, and then they came around and Paul Butler and Chisholm and I talked about this all the time. Willis Berkeley began to... They had posters with pictures from their production that were nearly over 20 years or about 20 years old at the time. And they still had them and arrayed in such a way and they quizzed us to say, now, if you really know the play, what scene is this? From a steal, what do you know? And they really expected us to have an answer. But then when they came to see it and they said, well, you know, we had hours and now you have... But that pride, knowing that it meant that much too. Some people. There was a brother that just said, at one time, he came up and he said,

you know, that was my uncle. And I said, what do you mean? You know who you were talking about? Turnbull, you were... You were talking about the north of... That head that looked like this. That's my uncle. My uncle's head was like... They recognized it. And they were proud to see... Now, the thing is that when that kid was growing up, he might have been put down. You know what I mean? Say, you old bubble head or whatever. But August made that young man proud to say that that's my uncle, that they were riffing on. But let's say... It is something. But he also caused a lot of consternation within the black community. I can remember seeing a contue presentation of Marraini where somebody's challenging God to a knife fight, you know. Come on, God. Come on. And people from the church were like, you could... Yeah. The air almost left the room. I mean, we were... The last time I spent real... An amount of time with August. I spent a couple days with him in Kansas City. And we had just done two trains. And he says, nigger, so many times

in two trains. And you should have seen them middle -class folks getting upset. And in fact, we had a conversation that ended up showing up in radio golf about the difference between Negro and nigger. And we had that conversation right down there because he was writing it just as he was getting ready to do it. You know? But you know, the Kansas City is my hometown. Oh, yeah, I know. Just... Oh, man, they... You see, the thing that's interesting is... And this is a phenomenon in a country where the word was used not only on the stage, but everywhere else. You understand? For years, you know. But when it's in your mouth, you mad at God. But if you say in a two trains, but in itself, you see, that's the other thing. The man masterfully, the title of a play. You know them, you know? But that two trains running at all times, you know? The wisdom, the old front porch rocking chair, old folks wisdom inside a lot of that. There's two trains running at all times, you know? And I remember

when he told me, he says, there's love in life and love in death. They're running at all times. Yeah. And it's just so, you know? Or the way he'll turn it, like that word, nigger. He'll turn that around in fences when Bono says that to Troy. Those four words, I love you, nigger. And August has written that on... When some stuff to me, and he's written down and say, I love you, nigger. I cherish that. Oh, he didn't turn that word around. And now that word is absolutely... And you can liberate it. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But, you know, I guess the thing is, the depth of feeling is really the final thing that I always be left with, that he can make you have this the truest, deepest feeling for something. An appreciation in someone else of yourself or of the purity of an act, the selflessness of an act, it just draws your attention to your

humanity every time. It just draws your attention to how, you know, how much... We only have a couple of minutes left, Ron. I'd like to start with you. What do you think the legacy is that August Wilson leaves American theater and indeed the entire world? Well, man, that's a loaded question. But because I just think there's so much that it's hard to even put it, capitalize it like that. But I mean, if you look at it, I know tomorrow when we're there and you look at all the people that are out there at the funeral, and you ask how many people had either played in August Wilson play or directed a play, you're going to get hundreds of people to stand up. And I think that legacy of the body of work as an actor and a director, we're going to work forever because of his words, you know. And in such a short span of time, in 20 years, the legacy of... And not only the works that are out there that we see, but the ones that maybe he's written that never got produced, or the ones that are still yet to come out from, you know, things that we're going to find

now, I think that legacy is going to be there. You think there's work yet that he was working on? Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. You know, he... It's a whole treasure trove. I think so. A one -axe and different things that weren't getting done. In fact, I had talked to him when I was understudying Steven, Jettany and Chicago. He had told me about some one -axe that he had, and I had my little theater in Chicago there. I said, well, we'd like to do those. You know, can I get some copies of those? We haven't, you know, we never got to communication to do it, but they're there, and I think now things like that are going to come out. Tell me, what do you think the legacy is? I quote him. I always quote him all the time anyway, when he said that there is no feeling, no thought, no... Nothing that cannot be encompassed inside of the black experience. That's worthwhile, because he made black people human for the world, you know? You understand this? Well, as an educator, I'd be glad to be able to say to any young person, you know, that I

know a guy that was a drop -out, you know, and went to the library and learned more about things, and then he left this great legacy. So, there's nobody that really can... None of those kids can say, well, it can't happen for me because I, you know, I love it. No, it can't. You know what I mean? It can't. You can do whatever that thing is you want to do. Is anybody working on Radio Golf? Because I understand that's going to get a lot of us to confront someone. Oh, I saw it. Yeah. I saw it in Los Angeles. Well, for me, you see the thing is about what Ronald Robinson is talking about, about the debt and the whole thing of reciproc... You know, reparations and reciprocity and reparations. But it is quite... Well, it's the first college graduates, you know, in the plays, and has a reason for that at the end of the century. And so, just as fast as you can see, Belsen, take the ride. Take the ride. All right. Well, Jim and we really appreciate you being here with us and sharing your memories of all this Wilson. He certainly will be remembered. Not only in Pittsburgh, his hometown, but we're very proud of it, but indeed,

around the world. Thank you very much. Thank you. His life was, but was cut far too short by liver cancer. August Wilson was still able to leave us an extraordinary gift in his ten -place cycle, one field with surprises and discoveries that have yet to unfold. Well, that's going to do it for this episode of Black Horizons. Be sure to join us every Friday and Sunday right here on WQEDTV13. I'm Chris Moore, and for all of us here at Black Horizons, have a good evening. Set Pieces provided by the History Store, Craig Street in Oakland. And Chris Moore's Wardrobe provided by, Blair Moores of Pittsburgh. Yeah. Yeah. What's that? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Pumpkin, pumpkin. I want to be a head out. Wait, wait a minute.

Groupie, groupie, jazzy, funky, bounce, bounce, dance as we dip in the melodic scene. Relentless throwing, drips to every scene. Sweet sugar pops, sugar pop, rocks pop. You don't stop till the sweet. You You

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