When LisaGay Hamilton graduated from Juilliard as a member of Group 18, she found herself on a frontier as the sole black actor graduating from the School that year. Since then, she has achieved a successful acting career, starring in (among other productions) August Wilson's The Piano Lesson on Broadway, the films Jackie Brown and Beloved, and ABC's series The Practice. In addition, she is the recipient of the Obie and Clarence Erwent awards (for her portrayal of Veronica in Athol Fugard's Valley Song at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles), as well as Ovation and Drama Desk nominations.

LisaGay Hamilton (Photo by Cesare Bonazza)

How and when did you know you wanted to be an actress? What inspired you to start the work?

LisaGay Hamilton: Some is family folklore. … My grandmother lived with us. I spent most of my time with her up until I was about 8, and she was an avid soap-opera watcher. She would tie a stocking leg to the rocking chair and a stocking leg around my ankle, so that she could watch the stories and I could have some mobility. I must have just sat and watched. … I also recall, when I was little, I would do these shows for family and friends—sing Nina Simone songs, do little skits, things like that.

My sister was very instrumental in exposing our family to New York City and seeing plays. One of the first I saw was a Negro Ensemble play, Lee Leslie's First Breeze of Summer. … I remember that play having a huge influence on me… There were also black musicals on Broadway at the time, like Don't Bother Me, I Can't Cope ; Purlie; The Wiz . Seeing images of myself on stage had an impact.

DS: Talk about your experience at Juilliard, your triumphs, your setbacks. If you could change anything about the School, what would it be? What would you never change?

LGH: I think every individual experiences Juilliard for who they are. I think the School is also a reflection of the time and who is running the program, and the world in which we live. I entered Juilliard in '85 and graduated in '89. New York itself was a struggling city then, going through its hard times. There was not only a lack of color in the faculty but also in the student population. I was the only person of color in my class; there was one other, but he was cut. There were no black directors and no black teachers. So I felt very alone, very isolated. Also, I was a commuter student, coming an hour in from Queens every day until my last year.

DS: Did you guys start about the same time we do—9:30 a.m.—and end the day at 11 p.m.?

LGH: Oh, yeah, there were some long days. Also, I had to put myself through school. I did work-study in the Student Affairs Office and the Drama Division. On the weekends, I catered and waitressed. It was an intense time and I marvel that I got through that. But I did. It was the best of times and the worst of times. I felt I had to fight, politically, for the roles I got. Because I felt I was left behind.

DS: What got you through? Was it just your spirit, was it family?

LGH: I think it was desire. I knew from a practical standpoint, as a black woman, I needed to come from one of the best schools in the country to "make it." That wasn't about fame and fortune; it was just to work. And, quite frankly, I was always taught to strive for the best, and Juilliard was the best in my mind at the time.

And, yes, the support of my family. I lived with my sister at the time; she was very encouraging and supportive. In fact, I so didn't think I would get into Juilliard that I didn't fill out the application. It was sitting on my desk, and it was two weeks late. My sister railed into me, she got a pen and made me fill it out.

I distinctly remember the audition process and being in awe that my name was on the list. I think I knew how good the training was, because it was so hard. I wanted to stay, because it was so hard. The only time I thought about quitting was my last year, when I got no casting whatsoever. Whether the School wants to admit it or not, there are politics involved in the casting. I think it's just a reality.

DS: Do you think that your Juilliard education influenced your career choices?

LGH: I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Juilliard. I am so grateful; it is the best training you can get. I think that a classical background puts you so ahead of the game. You can play any character you want, because you've been through the meat grinder. The whole point of the program is to strip you of everything—which is sad and frightening—and it puts you back together. You haven't been stripped of the ultimate you; she was just asked to take a back seat for a moment.

DS: What do you consider to be your most significant role to date, and why?

Beah Richards reads her poetry, probably in the early 1950s. Richards is the subject of a recent documentary directed by LisaGay Hamilton. (Photo courtesy of the Reference Center for Marxist Studies)

LGH: It would be the role of Veronica in Fugard's Valley Song. It was always my dream to be a respected theater actor in New York, and I feel as though my work exemplified that and was recognized as such. It was a breakout role as well, because I think I found a groove for myself as an actor. This was a new play, so I was creating a character. I went to South Africa to do some research. I starred in the play with Athol, who played two characters. It was my favorite, favorite experience.

I haven't had a breakout role yet in television—and I feel I haven't had one in film yet, either. Although I've had experiences that I've enjoyed, such as Beloved, and I'm very proud of that work.

DS: Are there any roles you'd particularly like to play?

LGH: I've always said that I'd like to play Juliet before I get too old. I think I could still pull that off. But I would love to breathe life into full-fledged human beings that have lots of layers and aren't stereotypical. Human beings who have flaws, weaknesses, strengths, peculiarities—who have thoughts that perhaps are dark or perhaps more optimistic.

DS: What propelled you to create a documentary? Were you trying to fulfill some artistic need or personal need, or both?

LGH: I'm sure already in your life, without knowing it, you've said something out loud, and then it has happened. This was one of those instances. I had begun to pay Beah visits. We met on the set of Beloved. I was a little intimidated by her. Even in those encounters, I could feel her power.

Two years later was when things clicked. I think we really truly needed each other. I had visited Beah once and was riveted by that encounter. To the shock of my life, she called me asking where I was, and how come I didn't come back to visit. I thought "OK, this woman wants something from me. I'm scared of her, but I'm going to try, I'm going to do it." And once I gave over to her, she was trying to tell me something. She said, "Sister, you don't want to miss this." And, I don't think she wanted to miss me. Clearly, a very strong bond and relationship grew. I kept saying, "I should tape record this—I can't remember all that she is saying to me."

Jonathan Demme had asked me what I was interested in doing. I had mentioned in passing, "You know, I've been spending time with Beah, and I just never knew that she was this incredible person. We should do something on her because I don't think she is going to be around much longer." I didn't say documentary; I didn't say I wanted to direct. I said we should do something on her—not really knowing what that meant. He called Beah the next day and asked her if she was interested in speaking in front of the camera, and she said, "Sure." He called me up and asked me if I was ready. I said, "Ready for what?" He said, "Don't you want to do a documentary on Beah, and don't you want to direct it? I'm going to send a couple of cameras and just do it."

What I thought was going to be a few hours in front of the camera turned into 70 hours of footage of Beah, another 20 of friends, historians, folks. It ended up being just shy of a year. After her passing, there was so much to cover. So much new information to learn and so much history to tell.

DS: Where did you get most of your research?

LGH: Well, it started at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. It started just with clues and hints: Beah mentioning something and not completing the sentence. Me calling up people who knew her well and knew her political side. It was just asking questions. I don't think it's any different than you doing research on an historical character. I truly believe that Beah has spoken through me; it's been a collaborative effort. I'm really, really proud of this film.

DS: What creative issues did you confront when doing the documentary?

LGH: How difficult writing is. Writing is a bitch.

DS: Was it coming up with the material, or the structure?

LGH: The structure was always there. I always knew that I didn't want it to be a linear film, and what I learned from my editor is that you need to fill in gaps with narration. More than ever, I learned that less is more … I would need to provide text for a given moment, and I would go write three pages or a paragraph. And she would say, "No, you just need a sentence." How do you make that sentence succinct and poetic and informative, all at the same time? It was an amazing exercise in really getting the point of what I wanted to say.

DS: What other revelations did you have, being on the other side of the camera for the first time?

LGH: The power of the lens—in storytelling, how that gives the subject matter power as well. Here's this mechanical thing that looks at you and you're looking back at it, and then you project that on a big screen. The power of that is just astounding! And as far as the documentary is concerned, I think I also learned to become a better listener. I remember the first interview, I interrupted Beah every second she opened her mouth! I had taken that footage to Jonathan, and he said, "Just let her talk."

DS: What are the most important lessons you learned from Beah?

LGH: Love of self, and that that self is huge. It encompasses an ancestry that has been through so much and survived and has the capacity to change the world. With that comes tremendous power.

DS: What do you see as the next steps or future direction of your career?

LGH: I feel like I'm really at a unique crossroads in my life, and I don't have an answer. And I'm trying to embrace that it's O.K. not to have an answer. I think Hollywood has the capacity to squelch your creative juices, if you allow it. The Practice sort of depleted me, and the project with Beah countered that, and left me in this very unique place of exploring just how competent am I in my directing skills. So I'm facing, in a positive sense, a lot of choices—some of which aren't going to be as monetarily fruitful as others.

DS: What advice would you give to the graduating class of drama students?

LGH: As you join the work force, you must be good to yourself—you must be healthy, you must stay physically fit, you must eat well. Do all the things that you know make you function really well. Explore all possibilities. For me, I found that I needed to stay very, very active. Any time anyone asked me to do a reading, I did it—anywhere, everywhere. Just be creative in nurturing and feeding yourself. Get involved and don't be afraid to take risks.

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Also, be really, really aggressive. Funding is terrible and the theater community has drastically changed, but it's doable. You may not be starring in a play the week after you graduate, but you might be a spear-carrier for Shakespeare in the Park. I credit the Public Theater for really supporting me. I was a spear-carrier and worked my way up; finally, I was starring in Measure for Measure. I give them credit for allowing me to define myself and grow.

Beah: A Black Woman Speaks is scheduled to air on HBO in February 2004. Consult local listings for the date and time applicable for your area.