MONDAY

• Home
• Video
• Podcasts/RSS 
• Local Showtimes
• Past Shows
• Blogs
• About the Show
• Tell Tavis
• Features
• Mobile

RELATED LINKS

• Q&A with Ms. Rashad
• About The August Wilson Century Cycle
• Ms. Rashad's bio

E-mail a friend

Actress explains what she learned living in Mexico as a teenager. (2:10)
 

Tavis: It's about time Phylicia Rashad made an appearance on this program. I told her I was going to say that. (Laughter) Her terrific acting career began right here in New York with a role in "The Wiz" back in 1975. After success on Broadway, she made the jump to TV, eventually landing the role of some woman named Clara Huxtable on some show called "The Cosby Show."

In 2004, she returned to Broadway and won a Tony for her role in the stage revival of "A Raisin in the Sun." She and many other notable members of the theatrical community - easy for me to say - have all contributed to this collector's set, which is heavy to lift but beautiful. This collector's set of plays written by the late, great August Wilson.

The 10-volume set is called "The August Wilson Century Cycle." Beginning in early December, you can also catch her at Lincoln Center here in New York, of course, in the stage production of Shakespeare's "Cymbeline." A busy woman, but time, finally, to come see us. Phylicia, nice to see you.

Phylicia Rashad: Good to see you.

Tavis: You been all right?

Rashad: I've been fine.

Tavis: You've been more than fine. You doing some good work, as always.

Rashad: I'm having a wonderful time, I must say.

Tavis: I want to talk about all the good stuff you're doing. Let me start with this - when I first got this, I just kind of grabbed it and did like this. Just - I'm sure I'm messing my microphone up somewhere. I kind of grabbed it and just held on to it. It is a beautiful - first of all, I love packaging, little simple things like that. But the packaging is great. But to have all of his stuff in one box set, if you will, what do you make of this?

Rashad: It's phenomenal, in terms of contemporary playwrights, it's - my goodness, what can you say? Most unusual. There isn't anything like it, not in contemporary theater. There's been nothing like this. It's remarkable that he should write these 10 plays, that he should set out to do it this way, to chronicle the experience of African Americans in the hill district - Pittsburgh - in the 20th century, and write a play for each decade. Phenomenal.

Tavis: If I've heard this once, I've heard it a thousand times, and I know you've heard it, and I'm probably right when I suggest, no doubt said it, which is this - that we are all judged by our body of work. It's not one TV show, although "The Cosby Show" was awfully good. It's not one TV show, not one play - although "A Raisin" was awfully good.

But not one production that defines any of us; it is, in fact, our body of work. And so if you are a true artist, you've tried to create a body of work that you are ultimately proud of that you think represents the kind of legacy you want to lead. This, on my left knee, is Wilson's body of work. What do you make of it?

Rashad: That is quite a legacy. As an actor, as an actor, the most amazing thing about - well, there's so many amazing aspects about his work. Some plays are driven by characters. Some plays are driven by plot. Some plays are driven by nothing. His play is driven by rhythm.

Tavis: A rhythm.

Rashad: Rhythm.

Tavis: What do you mean by that?

Rashad: As an actor. I used to always hear actors say this who were performing these works when I was working in television. They would say, "It's the rhythm in the writing, it's the rhythm, and it's not easy to get. It's the rhythm." And I didn't know what they were talking about until I was playing Aunt Ester in "Gem of the Ocean."

And in learning the text, and as an actor, you really must learn the text as he has written it, there is inherent in the writing, rhythm. In the way the people speak. He captured it. He captured it so clearly, and you see it from "Gem of the Ocean" to "Radio Golf," which is the play that concludes the cycle, that takes place in 1990, the characters at the end of the cycle, the rhythm has changed. They are arrhythmic. Some of them are arrhythmic, meaning they have moved - they have moved far away from those inherent rhythms, those natural rhythms that we carry inside us from the continent of Africa.

Tavis: He knew - he, of course, August Wilson - knew how important it was to complete this cycle. Literally as he was dying he was finishing up "Radio Golf," yes?

Rashad: Yes. When we opened with "Gem of the Ocean," he left immediately. He left immediately to work on "Radio Golf." And let's see, "Gem of the Ocean" opened in December of 2004, "Radio Golf" premiered April - let me see, April 27th, 28th, in New Haven at the Yale Rep. That was the first production, and from there, the next time I saw it was at the Mark Taper.

And then the next time I saw it was at the Huntington, and the next time I saw it was on Broadway. It was - it was as if he knew this was the reason for his birth. Because what he is saying to us in this body of work is that it is important for us to remember those who have gone before. It is important to remember and honor.

It is important that we acknowledge, honor, and support the community. That if you understand it properly, you don't have to go outside your community for anything. And his plays, although specific to African Americans, are universal in theme. And that, for me, as an artist, was the most glorious aspect. That this is what I really loved about working in "The Cosby Show," this is what I loved about working in August Wilson - being myself, authentically myself, and the universality of it.

Because that is something that people like to marginalize or pretend that it is not so. But the truth of the matter is is that human beings are much more alike than we could ever be different. We just keep playing the same old tired game.

Tavis: Every one of these plays in this box set here has a different individual, many iconic, who write the introduction to the play.

Rashad: The foreword, yes.

Tavis: The foreword, yes. Toni Morrison, Nobel laureate, writes an introduction, you write one for "Gem of the Ocean." What's it like to sit down and to wrestle with this genius' work in the writing of a forward to the work?

Rashad: That was the most daunting task (laughter) ever. That was - it was, like, what do you say? At first I said, "Oh, my goodness, there's just so much that I could say." And then all of a sudden, there was nothing to say, because the work had said it all. And it's like commenting on sunlight. What do you say? It's bright. (Laughter) It's life-giving. What do you say? It was really - and I really wrestled with that for a while because I have - my feelings about it, and about him, are so personal.

It was amazing to work on this play with him in the room. Oh, my God, it was amazing.

Tavis: I assume, though, one of your stature doesn't get intimidated, even by a guy like August Wilson being in the room.

Rashad: Well, he wasn't there to intimidate you. And actually, he was a little bit shy himself, as genius often is. He would come into that room with his little cap and his style of dress, and his inimitable style of dress. And when I looked at him the first time when I met him, I knew I was looking at a man who had come from the time of my father's.

My father. Although he wasn't of that time; he was younger. But he had those sensibilities about him as a human being and a man. They were distinct. And I came to learn many things about him. I came to understand that as a young man, he spent hours listening to older men talk. Talk about life, talk about themselves, talk about their hopes, talk about their disappointments, talk about their love, talk about many, many things. And he captures these rhythms in all of these plays.

And their sensibilities, they're just mother wit. Just understanding and mother wit. And the things that he talks about in every single play are so pertinent to today, whether it's eminent domain - hello? We don't study civics anymore, do we?

Tavis: That's part of my read on this, and the word iconic is overused in our society, but in its truest sense, Phylicia, I think part of what makes one iconic is that very point - that the stuff you do today is relevant decades, sometimes centuries, later.

Rashad: It's true. It is true. If one would want to understand what is happening in the world today, one could read Shakespeare. It's all there. It's all there.

Tavis: Let me put this down, because it's starting to hurt my left leg (laughs).

Rashad: It's heavy. It's heavy.

Tavis: I've got to get back to the gym, because it's - (unintelligible) heavy.

Rashad: It's so beautiful. And this photograph of him on the side?

Tavis: On the side, uh huh.

Rashad: This really captures the human being. This really captures the man.

Tavis: It's a powerful collection; I highly recommend it. Let me switch gears and talk about some of your work. You mentioned, in speaking of August a moment ago, Phylicia, his growing up in Pittsburgh and that mother wit that he puts in his work. Your mother, speaking of your growing up and your mother, took you - of course, everybody knows Debbie Allen, great actress, director, your sister, choreographer - I read somewhere that your mother took you all, at one point in your childhood, to live outside of the country because she wanted you to have a more universal experience?

Rashad: Yes.

Tavis: I want to get your thoughts on that, because you referenced August's work being universal, and your mother wanted you to have that experience outside of the U.S. Tell me what she did and what that was like, and what you took from that.

Rashad: My mother, Vivian Ayers, is a poet and a scholar, and a cultural programmer. She was from the town of Chester, South Carolina, a mill town in South Carolina, and she attended Brainerd Institute, which was one of those schools begun by the presbytery in the late 1800s for the descendents of Africans, okay?

And there were - her parents attended that school, she attended that school - very fine education. My mother told me that there was only one thing that she was afraid of in this world, and that was being ignorant.

Tavis: Being ignorant.

Rashad: That was the only thing she was ever afraid of, and I can testify to that. (Laughter) We were -

Tavis: And the church said, "Amen."

Rashad: And the church said, "Amen." So we were growing up in Houston, Texas in a time of legal segregation in our country. I don't have to say any more than that; we know what that means. But she didn't want us scarred by that. So as young children, if there was something we wanted to do, someplace we wanted to go and we were barred by segregation from going, she would explain it this way.

She would say, "Oh, that's a private club. You have to be members of the club to go, and we're not members of that club." And as little children we'd take that and we'd say, "Oh, okay, we're not members of that club," and then we'd go off and do something else. Always giving us something else. She would invite all the children in out of the neighborhood and teach us choral speech.

I remember my mother teaching me note value with candied Easter eggs. It was my first lesson in fractions, and I never forgot it. I was six years old, and I never forgot it. When I was 13, ready to be a cheerleader in junior high school, had my mind set, she walked in the house one day and said, "Uk, I've had it with this environment, this is it - we're moving."

Well, moving, we were accustomed to moving. I said, "Okay, Mom, where are we moving to this time? What house are we moving to this time?" She said, "We're leaving. We're going to go live in Mexico City." Exactly. Didn't know a soul, didn't speak a word of Spanish. She said, "That's where we're going." I protested. I decided I was going to go on a hunger strike.

I said, "I'll make her pay." And she said, "And we're taking the Greyhound bus, because I want you to see the country and to feel the people." We just thought Mama was just eccentric. (Laughter) But she wasn't. She was very, very wise. We left at night, and when we woke up with the dawn, we were crossing the border into Mexico.

And all of a sudden, the landscape changed. Houston is very flat, relatively flat. As the day progressed, there were these mountains coming up, and I had seen - I had traveled from Houston to Louisiana to Georgia to South Carolina, and you get to Georgia and South Carolina, you see hills, and you like that.

Tavis: And some red dirt.

Rashad: But mountains?

Tavis: Yeah, mountains, though -

Rashad: Mountains so high in the sky they look like clouds? I'd never seen such a thing. We come into Mexico City and we don't speak any Spanish and we don't know where we're going, and we go to a hotel and we get a room. And this begins the journey. The first month, we lived in what's called El Centro, which is the downtown part of Mexico City.

Then we met a family, and Mother decided, “You need to be among the people.” So we went to live with this family, and one of the daughters in the family was a singer with (speaks Spanish). So every Sunday, we would go to (speaks Spanish) and it became our playground. And my sister and I would travel on the buses from one end of the city to the other.

Then we were enrolled in schools. Debbie was in the Pan American Workshop, I was at the American school. I was at one end of the city, she was at the other. We'd take a bus at 6:00 in the morning -

Tavis: And Mexico City is a big city.

Rashad: Very big city.

Tavis: Yeah.

Rashad: The two of us would take a bus at 6:00 in the morning to go downtown to the monument of the revolution. We would say goodbye to each other, she'd go in one direction, I'd go in another. We'd get on these separate buses, go, and meet up at home in the evening. We did this. We traveled through the city as if we had been born there.

We learned to listen to the language. We were there for a semester. Now, this was the thing. In school, I was in a bilingual school, but I only spoke one language. Courses in science and literature were being taught in Spanish, and I sat there - I had been a straight A student the semester before, in an accelerated class.

But I sat there because of language barrier and felt very, very dumb, because I couldn't understand what was being said. I learned so much about Mexican history and the people - it's a beautiful history, it's a grand history that predates Spaniards. Ah, the grandeur of this history is phenomenal, the things that people did.

So we learned to appreciate something I had never known about. And not only that, I was in an international city. People were coming from all over the world, and we were moving about as global citizens in this one big city, and there were no barriers.

Tavis: When you come back Stateside, as a child - you're how old in Mexico City?

Rashad: Thirteen.

Tavis: Thirteen. So when you come back stateside as a teenager, a Black teenager, having had that kind of experience, it impacts your life, your world view back here in what way?

Rashad: First of all, I realized that in different parts of the world, news is reported differently. I realized that. I realized that there were different points of view that we were not privy to as American citizens, because we weren't getting the benefit of that.

Tavis: Kind of insular over here, yeah.

Rashad: I realized that. And I realized something that I had long felt as a young person. By the time I could read, I began to understand segregation. I don't remember how old I was when I picked up a magazine and read about Emmett Till, but I remember this was before I had gone to Mexico City, and I remember thinking, how could people be so ignorant?

Tavis: Mm-hmm.

Rashad: How could people behave like this? How could people imagine themselves human and behave like this? And then when I returned from Mexico, having learned about the Spanish conquest and all of what that was, I realized that this ignorance is universal. That it is not relegated to one area of the world. And I began to see all over the world, and as I began to study world history, I began to see that this ignorance has existed all over the world, and it's something that humanity has to come to.

Humanity has to come to terms with itself as being all of what it is, and embracing itself in its fullness, otherwise these problems continue.

Tavis: How important, then, for you, as a parent, to the extent that one has means to travel, and if not travel, certainly on the Internet, on television, to expose your children to the world beyond our borders?

Rashad: Very important. Very important. And it really isn't as difficult as one would imagine. You don't have to be a millionaire to travel. You just have to want to do it. We weren't millionaires, and we did that.

Tavis: Not from Houston to Mexico, anyway.

Rashad: Not from Houston to Mexico.

Tavis: That's just a bus ride, yeah.

Rashad: Houston to Mexico could introduce you to many, many things, but no, it's very important. I have traveled extensively with my daughter. I've traveled extensively, and with my son, I don't - by the time I could travel the way I really wanted to, he was a teenager and didn't want to go. I dragged him to London once; we did go to Paris together once.

But my daughter and I have traveled into Europe and Asia; she went to South Africa without me. We've been in Australia, we've been in Central and South America, we've been in Canada. It's just - as a young person, she just felt herself a person in the world. (Laughs)

Tavis: Speaking of Canada, is that the place, I recall, that you all shot "A Raisin in the Sun?"

Rashad: Oh, yes, in Toronto.

Tavis: Toronto.

Rashad: Yes.

Tavis: So when is this thing coming? So we saw the play; now it's a TV movie.

Rashad: Mm-hmm. And it's airing the night after the Oscars.

Tavis: On this particular play, how do you take Lorraine Hansberry's work from the stage and put it on television?

Rashad: You open it up. You open it up to see things that you hear about in some instances, or you put a conversation that was in the living room, you put it in the hallway. Beneatha and Asagai have their good conversation in the hallway, as opposed to in the living room. But still, most of it takes place right there in the apartment, but you open it up and you see the people as they move about the streets and encounter each other, and interact with other people. That's how you do it.

Tavis: It just occurs to me, for those persons of color specifically who are watching now who want to have a place in theater, who want to be on Broadway - a place that's not always the most welcoming, and does not provide the most opportunities, August Wilson notwithstanding, for people of color, your advice to them in 45 seconds is what?

Rashad: My advice is study. Believe in yourself. Don't get so caught up in what's wrong that you can't get to what's right. Don't pay so much attention to obstacles that you can't see your goal. Go for it, and don't be daunted by the time that it may take.

Tavis: Doesn't happen overnight, does it?

Rashad: Mm-mmm.

Tavis: Didn't happen for her overnight, but I'm glad she got there, and how she is making good use of her time and the good lord is redeeming the time that she struggled to get there, and she's on a roll. First of all, from August Wilson, it's called "The August Wilson Century Cycle," all of his stuff in one box set, with wonderful forewords by some great people like Toni Morrison and Ishmael Reed and Frank Rich, and of course, Phylicia Rashad.

And we're looking for "A Raisin in the Sun" and "Cymbeline" starts -

Rashad: "Cymbeline." "Cymbeline," we open December 2nd.

Tavis: December 2nd. The Shakespeare stuff. Good to see you, as always.

Rashad: Thank you, Tavis.

Tavis: That's our show for tonight.