Tag Archives: Day of Absence

Doug Ward: On The NEC’s Involvement with Media

Doug Ward: On The NEC’s Involvement with  Media


DTW: Somewhere I think it was at the end of the Broadway run of The River Niger we had about sixty thousand dollars which was profit and ultimately it just went into the company budget and everyday activity. But Gerry and I were willing to take that money and buy the rights of the Nate Shaw book All God’s Dangers. Our hope for that was either a feature movie or a TV series. I was more inclined toward the series because a four part, six part, whatever series I felt would have allowed you to encompass the scope of the book more than a feature length film. But with a quality TV mini-series you can get the expanse and the scope more than a movie which as you know, generally runs about two hours. But a TV mini-series, as I said would give you time for developing the events of the narrative with more detail and specificity. With a movie it would’ve been all about compression and dealing with the climatic moments.


GE: Question.


DTW: Shoot.


GE: Since you had that surplus money why didn’t you pursue the movie rights for The River Niger? That to me would seem the more natural way to go.


DTW: Yes, but there was only one problem.


GE: What was that?


DTW: The movie rights of The River Niger was already sold to someone else. It was sold very early, I guess. But let’s say it hadn’t been sold by the time I’m talking about, we had dealt with it for the length of time we did in putting it up and running it on Broadway and on the road. I’m talking two or three years all together. So maybe if it hadn’t been sold it would’ve come to us automatically to try to do it for TV or the movies the way we did with Ceremonies. But when I think back on it the bad movie that they made out of it might have even been made before we finished our stage run of it. And once the movie came out it was so abominable that everybody’s interest was to try to forget it even existed. So that’s the story on that. I hope it answered your question.


GE: It did, thank you. Now I remember an announcement early in your existence as a company that said something to the effect that you were exploring the possibilities or were definitely going to make a movie about Benjamin Banneker, the man who ostensibly came up with the plan for the design of Washington, DC?


DTW: Yes, I think so but I don’t remember it clearly. It sounds more like a project Bobby Hooks was interested in. At the time he was active in both movies and TV. He had a series he was starring in (NYPD) and several movies as well. So I’m pretty sure it was his project but I don’t remember it clearly. There were other projects too that we explored. Hell Gus, throughout our history, at one time or another we had access to the major networks in terms of talking about projects. If you’ll remember there were only three at the time, ABC, NBC and CBS. Back then cable didn’t exist. But we had access to all three.


GE: I remember seeing Ceremonies, Day of Absence and First Breeze of Summer on TV. Were there others?


DTW: No. But that’s what I mean about having access.


GE: I see, and after that?

DTW: We did pursue some things like the book The Homestead Grays (by James Wylie) about an all black fighter squadron during the Second World War. The idea was to get backing for it as a movie, not a TV project. So what I’m saying Gus is that whenever we talked about media it was for a specific project. We weren’t just pursuing the media in general. But with All God’s Dangers we went ahead vigorously in actively pursuing the rights to that book. And we came close, very close because I think that the author (Theodore Rosengarten) who wrote the book based on the life of Nate Shaw (real name Nate Cobb) really wanted us to have it. Because in talking to me and so forth in terms of my ideas on how to approach it, he felt that we stood a chance of matching and paralleling his own intents and also the quality and content of the book that he had written. Because as you know, as a writer he was a little leery about just a commercial sale where he would have no input in the outcome. But once I talked to him he was quite pleased with the direction that I had indicated in terms of adapting the material. So he was rooting for us. He verbally gave me the rights.


GE: So what happened?


DTW: The book had been well received critically and it had even sold well for the type of book it was. It was in the limelight to a certain extent and once Hollywood, commercial Hollywood expressed an interest in it his agent was more inclined to allow Hollywood to buy the rights rather than a little company like The NEC. I mean all we would’ve been able to do was buy the rights then we would’ve had to go after getting money to produce it. I’m sure his agent felt that if a major studio was in on it, they were already in a position to get it made. But then there was another complication.

GE: And what was that?


DTW: One of the conditions of buying the property was that the agent had to get the approval of Nate Shaw’s heirs. And we said that his living heirs had to agree not to interfere with the development of the property. We wanted to avoid the possibility of some working class poor or whatever black relatives wouldn’t suddenly start seeing dollar signs and start trying to do everything they could to see how much money they could get out of the situation. We didn’t want any conflict. The NEC was not going to get itself into any kind of conflict where we were antagonistic to or were being sued some other black people who were heirs or whatever. We didn’t need that therefore we demanded that once we bought the rights it was not our responsibility to get waiver rights from the heirs. The end result was that agent used that request or demand as a way of then not selling it to us. It allowed him to go where he wanted to go in the first place, to Hollywood and some major studio bought the rights.


GE: But it was never made into a movie.


DTW: No, hell no. What people don’t seem to understand is how Hollywood works. Ten novels or stories will come out and they will proceed to buy whichever ones seem to get some positive reviews. And in this instance I think whoever bought it seemed like they were buying it as a possibility for Jimmy (James Earl Jones).And they knew that being a major studio, if some little poor black relative came up with some problems they could just brush him aside or ignore him or even give him two dollars and say “Get the fuck out of my face.” And he would do that. But it wasn’t just about the money for us. It was the principal of not being in conflict with other blacks over a situation like that. So a studio bought the rights and I think they even approached Charles Fuller to do an adaptation of it. But anyway, like a lot of Hollywood projects, it never came to realization. Hollywood put it on a shelf somewhere and forgot about it. And that’s what they generally do with most of the material they acquire. They make an initial effort and if it doesn’t fall together right away they say “Fuck this” and move on.


But like I said, I wanted to do it on TV in four or six parts where we would have the canvas that we could explore through Nate Shaw the whole world of the South at the time. The harshness of that world in the 1920s and 30s.The struggles with the sharecroppers unions and Nate Shaw’s participation in that struggle that finally got him in jail for 14 years. One of the reasons that Rosengarten wanted me to do it is because when we sat there the first thing I told him that one of the central episodes of the whole series was going to be the trial and the whole business of the sharecroppers union. At that time in the South with the Klu Klux Klan and everything the authorities considered the Sharecroppers Union, the Black Sharecroppers Union to be a kind of radical organization led by Communists. But the real truth about the Sharecroppers Union is, yes, radicals had been responsible for its existence just like radicals had been responsible for the AF of L-CIO and a lot of trade unions. But the real story was the fact of how much it empowered the poor sharecropper to fight against what was going on and how much they were being trampled upon.

Anyway, that’s what I remember about our involvement with media, whether it was movies or TV. Look, we were running a theatre company and that was difficult enough. But we did pursue some media projects when the opportunity arose. Anything else?


GE: Not right this minute. Thanks.


(Taped in Doug’s office, June 1995)



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Doug Ward: An Update

Doug Ward: An Update

On October 11, 2011 The Lorraine Hansberry Theatre in San Francisco opened their new season with a handsomely produced, multicultural, multi generational update of Doug’s one act play Day of Absence, directed by the company’s new Artistic Director Steven Anthony Jones. This conceptual rendition of the play includes rap, hip-hop along with several other aspects of contemporary verbal and musical means of expression illustrates the fact that Doug’s award winning satire about race relations is as relevant now as it was fifty years ago when it was first produced.

Doug was flown in for the opening and spent a week in the city attending talk backs with the audience after the show, catching up with friends and seeing the sights. This was the first time he’s travelled any appreciable distance since his operation. He says he felt no ill effects whatsoever. This was also the first time he’s been to San Francisco sine the Soldier’s Play tour in 1984. So the way it looks things are getting back to normal for him.

I went to San Francisco to see the production and to meet up with Doug.  We spent several days together doing what we always do, walk, talk, eat and just sit around looking at the world going by. We talked about several projects he is on the verge of getting back to, particularly a collection of 3 one act plays by him that I am currently preparing for publication. The collective title is The Tom Azz Plays. The individual titles are Clarence X-Rated, Clarence Updated and The Redeemer.

Two weeks ago I spoke to him on the phone for about an hour. He tells me that he’s now cooking his food and is eating a lot better. That’s good news to those of us who have been worried about how thin he’s gotten. I ask as I always do about what he was working on. He says that he is once again looking at his single character play Dessalines (the 3rd play of his Haitian Chronicles) with the idea of preparing it for both production and publication. “Once I get my voice and speech back properly, I plan on performing the role again as I did before.” …What this says to me is that Doug is almost back to becoming fully engaged in the creative work that was seriously interrupted by that illness in May 2009. And that for all of us who love, admire and are inspired by him is a good reason to cheer this HOLIDAY SEASON.

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Robert Hooks

robert hooks

Robert Hooks: On the NEC, its beginnings, its legacy. 

I’m from Washington, DC and at the behest of my older sister I did some plays when I was nine years old and wound up liking it. Then my family moved to Philadelphia where I was enrolled in the Bessie V. Hicks School of Theatre. After that I came to New York and did a lot of stuff around. But my first professional job was the same play that prompted me to come to New York in the first place. That was A Raisin in the Sun. I took over the role of George Murchison at the end of the Broadway run and toured with it for a year. On that tour Douglas Turner Ward, Lonne Elder and I became The Three Musketeers.

We were just meant for each other in life because we have been friends since.

Both Doug and Lonne were a little older than me and we spent a lot of time talking about all kinds of things. Life, history, women, politics, all sorts of things. They were like mentors to me. I don’t think a person could have two better mentors than Doug Ward and Lonne Elder. From those guys I learned a lot about what was happening socially as it related to blacks in the industry. And one of the reasons I formed The Group Theatre Workshop later on was because I saw the opportunity to start creating what Doug, Lonne and I had talked about. It was a kind of workshop for blacks to work permanently in…I was doing Dutchman by Amiri  Baraka ( Leroi Jones) at the time and living in Chelsea at the time. On my night off from the play I was asked to speak at the Hudson Guild, which was in Chelsea, about blacks in theatre and the problems they were facing. The talk was well received and there were a lot of kids who came up and asked questions after. I knew most of those young people because I lived right across the street. So I said to them: “If you’re really and truly interested in theatre come over to my house, I’m off on Monday nights so we can talk about it and see if we can work some things out. Maybe I’ll spend some time working and teaching. “And that’s what happened. There were six then twelve, twelve grew to twenty, twenty became sixty because the kids started coming from all over the New York area.  So in my living room we started The Group Theatre Workshop. And along with Barbara Ann Teer, Adolph Caesar and a lot of dedicated friends we turned my living room into a theatre. Adolph and I knocked out a wall. I was eventually evicted from that place. But it was time to be moving anyway because we were growing in numbers.


Now a lot of the people in the neighborhood thought we were just partying because they saw a lot of kids coming and going.  So I decided that we would put together a production and invite everyone around so that they could see what we were doing.  The evening would consist of improvisations and poems and a one act play that Doug had been working on. He was working on two plays Day of Absence and Happy Ending that I was planning on producing with a man named Sam Engle. I took one of the plays (Happy Ending) and I added it to the evening. And Jerry Talmer, a reporter came and gave it a wonderful review in the New York Post. After the review I went to Sam and suggested that since he couldn’t raise the 35,000.00 we had budgeted if I could take the plays and try to raise the money. And, to make a long story short, I did and that’s how Happy Ending and Day of Absence were born.


In America we were in a revolutionary time (the 1960s). Black Theatre was producing revolutionary writers like Amiri Baraka, Ed Bullins and people like that. Brilliant writers who were writing serious plays.

But Day of Absence and Happy Ending were really the first comedies to come along that were successful. But you see, in my mind, certainly in Doug’s mind and the people in the production they were just as revolutionary as the serious plays. So the approach that Doug took in those plays was in my mind just as effective. And it turns out that over the years Day of Absence has become a sort of classic and is still being done when all the serious plays from that time are not.

At the time you didn’t see many black producers. White producers were producing black plays. The Baraka play I was acting in (Dutchman) was being presented by white producers. The problem still exists in Hollywood today although that is changing. But even before I came to New York I was producing theatre. So I had started young. Anyway, the plays were successful and that’s when the Ford Foundation people inspired by Doug’s New York Times article, came to talk to us about starting an all black company. Now a lot of the kids that were in the workshop we had them in the professional production in smaller roles. And when I toured boroughs with the Public Theatre’s production of Henry V I made an arrangement with Joe Papp, our producer, who thought these kids were wonderful, for them to perform in the early part of the evening a theatre piece that Barbara Ann Teer and I put together called We Real Cool. So they were touring with us and gaining valuable experience.









Now Gerry Krone was the general manager for the plays we were producing. So after the Ford Foundation contacted us we brought Gerry into the combine and formed a triumvirate. Then the three of us created a proposal for the NEC on a tablecloth in a restaurant right near the St. Marks Playhouse where the two plays were running. And as you know, the wonderful people at the Ford Foundation gave us a million and a half dollars over three years and the NEC was born.

We did many wonderful plays including Lonne Elder’s Ceremonies in Dark Old Men which he had been working on since we were doing A Raisin in the Sun. After the tour we lived together as roommates for a few years. And I remember we would take turns on the one bed we had. He would sleep in it one night, I the other. And all the time he would be at the typewriter working on Ceremonies. Together we would read scenes from the play to see if they worked or not. So I saw early on what was there.  I was privy to the beginning of what has become a classic in the American theatre. And all the while we would also be meeting with Doug at a bar on 14th street where he would talk about his next play and Lonne would talk about his. So I was privileged to be a part of this rich history that was taking place.

After it started the NEC had a tremendous effect in New York, on the theatre in New York and the people of New York. Then when we went out on tour we started getting letters from theatre companies because they were so moved and impressed by what they saw. I dare say there must have been about twenty five theatre companies started across the country because they saw and believed in what the NEC was doing and what we were all about. They saw hope for black theatre in their city. So the company had a tremendous effect on other black artists across the country and inspired them to go out and do like we were doing.

Now at the NEC we always wanted to play to mixed audiences. But we also knew that a black theatre audience had to be developed because we feel and have always felt the importance of black theatre, how it brings people together and what it has to say. So we wanted to build a black audience and we did. They were proud of us. They came and enjoyed what they saw. And they came back again and again and brought other people, other black people from all over the city.


Before going on I want to say something about Douglas Turner Ward. He has given the NEC his life for the past 30 years or so. Sacrificed his own professional writing career to build and sustain as well as maintain the high quality of the institution. Doug Ward is the lifeline of the NEC…Now I’m not taking any credit away from myself. I was one of the founders and that was important and I’m glad. It’s history.  But after three years I had to leave New York to build the Washington DC Black Rep and I did so with Doug’s blessing because he was taking care of the shop here and I didn’t have to be there. So I thought that since it worked in New York I thought “Let me go to Chicago, Philly or some other place and see if I can help them do the same thing. So I did the DC Black Rep and it’s still going today. I was also able to help other people to build similar organizations in the cities I just mentioned….But Doug Ward, no matter what anybody says about the man, and you’ll get a lot of varied opinions about him, believe  me,

because I get them. But Doug Ward is the lifeline of the NEC and the grandfather of black theatre in America.

But summing it all up I think that the NEC was our second Renaissance. The first was in the 20s, 30s and 40s. They left us art, books, paintings, sculptures, whatever but mostly books. The NEC left theatre. Writers, actors, directors, designers and others. Many of them are in the mainstream of the entertainment world and will admit how important the NEC was to their success. And there are those who won’t. To me that’s wrong but I understand because I understand those people.  So when we talk about legacy I say the NEC was our second Renaissance because it was responsible for a true cultural revolution as it relates to theatre in this country.

Interview by Richard Kilberg – in 1987. Edited by GE for this issue.

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On The State of Serious Black Theatre

On The State of Serious Black Theatre

(Further conversations with Paul Carter Harrison)

GE: On the drive here to Provincetown we talked a lot about black theatre and the state of contemporary black playwriting. You have been contemplating and addressing the subject for quite a while as I can see. So I’d like to ask you to share some of your observations and insights if you will.


PCH: Alright, sure.  The way I see it much of what is passing for black theatre right now is not being conceived by the imagination of the younger black playwrights. Much of the generation past August Wilson, myself; you and a whole host of others, are initialing their works from the standpoint of how it will be received by the national regional theatres. So that means that they’re writing for a different audience they’re writing for the subscription base of those regional theatres around the country. In other words the works are being developed in these theatres for a circumscribed audience. As a result the black imagination is being suppressed by this kind of selection process. So the spontaneous imagination we saw burgeoning in the 1960, 70s up through themed to late 80s is not happening. No it’s not happening at all.

Two years ago I sat in a room of about 30 black playwrights at The Arena Stage and told them: “Let us not talk to the Arena Stage. This conversation we will be having for the next day and a half is not for them. We will be talking to each other and how to make our work have a prominent place in the American Theatre.” Everyone agreed. Then five minutes after I said that they started talking to The Arena Stage. To the leadership of the Arena Stage. Everything they said was in some way to present themselves as being available to the Arena Stage. So I gave up right then and there. I said to myself: “Okay, I’m done with this conversation.” Because obviously these young people aren’t interested. Not that they’re bad writers. The question is more what they’re writing about and what purpose do they serve? They’re pandering. That’s basically what they’re doing, pandering. And that to me is the state of black theatre at the moment.

There are things that in my view don’t belong on the stage. They’re not stage works per se. They’re something else and should not be confused with the aspirations or ideas of black or theatre in general.

I see them as entertainments, popular entertainments. And there’s nothing wrong with that. They have their place. But that which gets done is a lesser experience theatrically even though it is sometimes a very entertaining one for a general audience… And unfortunately a lot of what I’ve been seeing that passes as serious black theatre often journalistic renderings of domestic situations or some kind of realistic interpretation of some maudlin situation. Also a lot of these plays are just personal revelations that don’t have much value beyond that. They sort of serve the purpose of therapy for some of these writers. So I don’t know that serious black is anywhere near where it had been in the1970s and 80s.

GE: What I find interesting to observe is that so many of the writers from that time are still around and writing but aren’t being heard from for one simple reason; they’re not being produced.


PCH: That is because they’re not topical. They’re not going journalism looking for stories. They’re not looking at a story in say The New York Times and using it as the basis of a play. All these writers you’re talking about have their own imagination. But the spontaneity of the black imagination is being thwarted and suppressed by the co- modification that the black writer must or should write about a baby in a crib being bitten by a rat. That’s a play with a production opportunity. It serves the general population’s expectation of the black experience… and it serves the purpose well for that particular audience. But it has nothing to do with the true imagination of the plays we saw in the 1970s and 80s. As you said Charles Fuller is still around but he can’t get any plays off the ground because he’s not writing about these topical things. Or yourself, or me. Look at things that I do.  I work on a larger scale and the black companies won’t do it. They won’t even look at it sometimes. One quick glance and it’s: “Oh my God it’s got more than 10 people in it”… and forget it.

GE: That brings me around to Doug’s Haitian Chronicles, which we’ve both read and which is in the same situation.

PCH: Well, with those plays, not only are there a great number of people in the plays but you have to have an understanding of the historical significance of that work and make it plausible to a larger audience. Of course Douglas understands that.  But most of the producers first can’t understand why we’re looking at Haiti at the turn of the 19th Century. They look at you and say: “Why are we looking at this when we can talk about a baby being bitten in a crib?” So you need to have the imagination as a black company to do it, let alone a white company. Saying that, a white company might come around to doing it one day. A major white company possibly because they see the scale, the classic scale on which it was written. It’s a chronicle. A trilogy. Three plays. It deals with the revolution in Haiti, the ideas and issues surrounding it…It or rather they contain huge ideas that sets up a sense of what black work could be in the 21st Century and they should be done.


In serious black theatre there should be a standard of exposing ideas. Exposing real, large, ambitious ideas on the stage. I say that thinking about War Horse, the scale of it. It’s very simply produced. But the scale of it, the dynamics of it with its puppetry and all. The theatrical dynamics of it. It happened because of The National Theatre in London where I saw the show… But the important thing is that they took it on and presented a re-examination of the First World War through these horses. A re-examination of the First World War through puppets. Wow!

GE: From what I can tell the vision isn’t there nor is the ambition there either.

PCH: Exactly.  It’s what I told the current Artistic Director of the new NEC. I said: “Listen you should not fail on a small scale. If you’re going to get bad reviews get them because your attempt and ambitions were so large that perhaps they were beyond the imagination of the critics viewing the work. Because on that level you can at least be satisfied that you got what you wanted out of it even though it didn’t meet with the approval of whomever the papers sent to assess it. What I’m saying is that it should be overwhelming or under whelming, if you like. But at this point in your history you shouldn’t be failing with some miserable two character play that’s badly acted and presented.

GE: That’s why I think doing something like Doug’s Haitian Trilogy was and still is a great idea.  It would give whatever theatre that did it the opportunity to move forward in terms of critical perception. Because like it or not, they would have to deal with the fact that it is not your garden variety black situation drama/melodrama or comedy. It is a work that demands so much of the artists involved, the critics, the audience and the producing entity that it insists on being viewed and dealt with on its own terms as well as its own large scale ambitions.

PCH: Absolutely. And it would signal the fact that serious black theatre is indeed being thought about, written and done.

GE: There was a phrase that Doug liked to use that I don’t hear much used anymore. That is “Artistic autonomy.” …”We have to seek and acquire artistic autonomy” he use to say. Over the years when I was teaching I would use the phrase to the African American theatre students I had. And almost uniformly they would look at me totally baffled by what I meant. This is after I had gone through as thorough an explanation as I was capable of.  It’s not that they didn’t understand what I was saying, it’s that they didn’t want to understand. So like you at the Arena Stage I gave up on the conversation. What they’re interested in is the job wherever it comes from no matter the price. But what they don’t seem to appreciate is that as long as we remain in that mindset we will always is beggars at the banquet table… Anyway Paul, once again it was great talking to you.


PCH: My pleasure as well.

GE   8- 16-11

Provincetown, MA.

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Douglas Turner Ward Chronology

Douglas Turner Ward

A Chronology


The Early Years:

1930 – Born May 5th in Burnside, Louisiana. Father: Roosevelt Ward, a forklift operator.

            Mother: Dorothy (Short) Ward, a dressmaker. He was given the name Roosevelt

            Ward Jr.

1938 – The family moves to New Orleans, LA, where Ward Jr. attends a two-room


1940 – Attended Xavier University Prep, a black Catholic school.

1946 – Attended Wilberforce University for one year.

1947 – Transfers to University of Michigan. Majors in Journalism. Played football as a

            Halfback. After a serious knee injury, he focuses his interests in politics and


1948 – Moves to NYC. Meets Lorraine Hansberry and Lonne Elder III. Joins the

            Progressive Party and becomes a Left-Wing political activist.

1949 – Wrote Star of Liberty, a short play about the rebellious slave Nat Turner. The play

             is performed before an audience of five thousand people.

             Ward is arrested in New York for draft evasion and returned to New Orleans,

             LA, where he is imprisoned for three months. His case is appealed.

1951 – Remains in New Orleans for two years while the case is pending. During this

            time, writes his first full-length play The Trial of Willie McGee.

1953 – The Supreme Court overturns his draft evasion conviction. Ward moves back to

            New York City and attempts to start a literary magazine called Challenge with

            Lorraine Hansberry and Lonne Elder III. One issue is published.

            Attends Paul Mann’s Acting Workshop and writes for The Daily Worker, a Left-

            Wing political journal.

            At the Hotel Teresa in Harlem, Ward along with Hansberry and Elder read his

            play The Trial of Willie McGee. This reading inspires Elder and Hansberry to try

            their hand at writing plays.

           Ward joins the Harlem Writers Workshop but leaves after a few weeks because

           he felt that their literary outlook was too limiting.

1957 – The Daily Worker closes. Ward’s career in journalism is over. He decides to

            pursue a full-time career in theatre.

1958 – Ward gets his first professional acting job at New York’s Circle in the Square

            Theatre in Eugene O’Neill’s The Iceman Cometh.

            For acting purposes, Roosevelt Ward Jr. changes his name to Douglas Turner


1959 – Performs a small role in Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun on Broadway

           and understudies Sidney Poitier as a lead character, Walter Lee Younger. Lonne

           Elder is also in the show. Robert Hooks joins the cast late in its Broadway run.

1960 – Ward assumes the lead (Walter Lee Younger) in the extended national tour of A

            Raisin in the Sun. Hooks and Elder are also in the touring company. The three

            become close friends.

1961 – Returns to New York City to play Archibald Wellington in Jean Genet’s The

           Blacks at the St. Mark’s Playhouse.

1965 – Robert Hooks produces two short plays at the St. Mark’s Playhouse written by

            Ward. The plays were Day of Absence and Happy Ending.

            Ward marries Diana Powell.

1966 – Ward wins two Obie (Off-Broadway) Awards. One for writing and one for acting

            in Happy Ending and Day of Absence.


            Wins Drama Desk Award for Playwriting.

            Ward writes an article for The New York Times entitled “American Theatre: For

            Whites Only” (8/14). The article stirs discussions about blacks in theatre and

            because of this McNeil Lowry of the Ford Foundation invites Ward, Hooks, and

            Gerald Krone to submit a proposal for funds to establish a repertory company and

            training program for black theatre artists.

The NEC Years:

1967 – The Ford Foundation gives Ward, Hooks, and Krone $434,000 to start the

            company. The Negro Ensemble Company (NEC) is incorporated with Robert

            Hooks as Executive Director, Gerald Krone as Administrative Director, and Ward

            as Artistic Director.

           The company opens its first show, Song of the Lusitanian Bogey written by

           German author Peter Weiss and adapted by Ward. Controversy and acclaim greets

           the opening.

           Other plays of that season include Summer of the 17th Doll by Australian author

           Ray Lawler, story adapted to the American South by Douglas Turner Ward,

           and Daddy Goodness, a French play by Louis Sapan, adapted by the black

           novelist Richard Wright.

1968 – Ward directs his first show, which is Daddy Goodness.

            Ward and the NEC are publicly attacked in the black press for not producing one

            play by a black American playwright in its first season. And also for using the

            word ‘Negro’ in its name rather than ‘Black’.

1969 – In their second season, the NEC produces Lonne Elder III’s Ceremonies in Dark

           Old Men. Ward plays the leading role and wins a Drama Desk Award for his


           The NEC receives a Tony Award for Special Achievement in the Theatre.

           Despite its perceived success, the company is forced to cut down its training 

           programs due to shortage of grant monies. Later that year, a benefit organized by

           Robert Hooks at the Winter Garden Theater on Broadway saves the company from

           financial collapse.

           Robert Hooks leaves his day-to-day operation at the NEC and moves back to

           Washington D.C. to create the D.C. Black Repertory Company.

1970 – Ceremonies in Dark Old Men starring Ward is broadcast in primetime on

            ABC TV.

            A performance of The Harangues, a short play by Joseph Walker, featuring Ward

            in a principal role, is interrupted by a black theatre group protesting its content.

            The NEC and Ward come under more fire in black periodicals for being located in

            Greenwich Village instead of Harlem and for retaining its white administrator,

            Gerald Krone. Ward refuses to respond to these criticisms because he did not

            consider them valid.

1973 – Ward directs and acts in The River Niger, another play by Joseph Walker. This

            becomes the first NEC production to move to Broadway.

            The show receives two Tony Award nominations, one for Best Play and one for

            Ward for Best Supporting Actor. Ward refuses the nomination because his was

            not a supporting part but the lead.

            The play receives the Tony Award as Best Play.

1975 – The First Breeze of Summer by Leslie Lee, directed by Ward, becomes the second

            NEC play to move to Broadway. It receives a Best Play Tony Award nomination.

            Ward receives the National Theatre Conference Person of the Year Award.

1977 – The Louisiana Performing Arts installs Douglas Turner Ward in its Hall of Fame.

1979 – Ward receives an Honorary Degree (Doctor of Fine Arts) from City College of

            New York.

            Financial constraints force the NEC to drastically cut back on its staff and

            production schedule.

1980 – Ward is given the Ebony Magazine Black American Achievement Award for

            Accomplishment in Fine Arts.


            Home by Samm-Art Williams and directed by Douglas Turner Ward becomes the

            NEC’s third play to move to Broadway. It receives two Tony Award nominations.

            The NEC moves from the St. Mark’s Theatre in Greenwich Village to Theatre 4

            on W. 54th St. in midtown Manhattan.

1981 – Ward receives the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Humanitarian Award for

            Outstanding Contributions to the Progress of Human Rights.

1982 – A Soldier’s Play, written by Charles Fuller, directed by Douglas Turner Ward,

           receives the Pulitzer Prize for Drama.

           Gerald Krone formally resigns his administrative position at the NEC to work in

           television news.

1984 – The NEC gets a $100,000 donation from Citibank but is still facing serious

            financial troubles.

1987 – The NEC celebrates its 20th anniversary while facing a major financial shortfall.

            Ward calls for public support. But some of his announced productions have to be


            Ward announces his resignation as Artistic Director and retires the title.

            Leon Denmark is named Managing Director of the NEC.

            Ward is invited by The New York Times to write a follow-up article to his

            “American Theatre: For Whites Only”, assessing the state of African American

            Theatre after twenty years. When the article “Counterpoint: A Twenty Year View

            of Black Theatre” is submitted, the Times refuses to print it. The article is

            ultimately published in Black Masks Magazine.


            PBS’s American Masters series broadcasts a documentary, narrated by Ossie

            Davis entitled “The NEC: A Company of Excellence”.

1990 – The NEC announces that it will produce Charles Fuller’s ambitious four-play

      series about the Civil War and the Reconstruction period collectively known as WE

      but financial difficulties make this a difficult task.

1991 – Ward receives an Honorary Doctorate from Columbia College in Chicago.

            Ward returns to the NEC as Artistic Director in an attempt to resolve its financial

            crisis. He announces in The New York Times that the NEC will have to shut down

            if unable to raise $250,000.

1993 – Ward produces and directs Last Night at Ace High, which became the NEC’s last

            show under his auspices as Artistic Director.

             That same year, the NEC is honored at the National Black Theatre Festival in

             Winston-Salem, NC, as an “indispensable cultural and national resource”.

After The NEC:

1996 – Douglas Turner Ward is inducted into the Broadway Theatre Hall of Fame.


1998 – Ward receives Honorary Doctor of Literature from Louisiana State University

2002 – Directs John Scott’s Farma at the Ensemble Theater in Miami, FL.

2003 – Receives Legend Honors Award at the Zora Neal Hurston Festival in Orlando,


2005 – Ward receives the New Federal Theater’s Award of Excellence at the Town Hall

             in NYC.

             Ward receives the NAACP Award in Los Angeles, CA.


This chronology is still evolving because Mr. Ward is still very much alive and active.

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Doug Ward: The Early Years

Early Years

Douglas Turner Ward, author, actor, director, artistic director and guiding light of the Negro Ensemble Company for nearly 30 years, was born on May fifth, 1930 in Burnside, Louisiana, under the name of Roosevelt Ward, Jr.  He spent his early years on a Sugar Cane Rice plantation where both his father, Roosevelt Ward, Sr., and his mother, Dorothy (Short) Ward, worked as field hands.  During his eighth year, in order for young Roosevelt to get something resembling an education, the family moved to New Orleans where his father became a forklift operator and then a foreman on the docks.  Ward, Jr. was sent to a two-room school where a black non-accredited teacher had developed her own system of teaching.  “You started at first grade and you were passed when she thought you were ready to be passed,” Ward explained in a taped interview.  “That meant you could stay in one grade for a week or a year.  It all had to do with how slowly or quickly you learned.”  And because he was a fast learner, with a passion for reading, Ward, Jr. moved from grade two through grade seven in two years.  He was then enrolled as a student at Xavier University Prep, an all-Black Catholic High School in New Orleans where, along with his studies, he ran track and played football.

“As soon as I learned my ABC’s, it seems that I fell in love with words.  Words as expression and ultimately, words as art, I guess.  And this led me to being an avid reader.  I began to devour books wherever I found them.  And that set my course in terms of my interest in literature . . . .  Then in my second or third year of high school, I was in the chorus of the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, ‘The Pirates of Penzance.’  This happened because my aunt was the star of the production as a singer.  But I never paid much attention to theatre as being of any particular interest.”

After high school, Ward, Jr. enrolled at Wilberforce University in Xenia, Ohio in 1946, where he was hoping to obtain a football scholarship to a prestigious college.  But that didn’t happen because Wilberforce didn’t have any kind of football program.  And, although he was a journalism major, Ward, Jr. found time for theatre.  He became a member of the Wilberforce Players, “mostly because I found out that the girls in the Drama group were allowed to stay out beyond the curfew,” Ward explains.

One year later he transferred to the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor.  This time he did get to play football but a serious knee injury halted his athletic ambitions.  It was about this same time that he became deeply involved in political activity both on campus and off.  But this was not a new development.  Ward, Jr. had always been interested in politics, even during his high school years.

“It began with the realization of my relationship, as a black person, to the dominant white society.  How it was designed to suppress all black attempts at self worth, self sufficiency and self pride . . . .  I had already read some black history and realized that there was nothing natural about the role black people were assigned to play in the American Society of that time.  It angered me, it stirred me up, it made me want to do something about it.  So, I became active in all sorts of political groups.”

But in 1947, it was at the University of Michigan that Ward, Jr. discovered his true political direction.  One that he carries right up to this day.  It came via a white graduate student who, in his late twenties, was somewhat older than the average college student due to the fact that he had served in World War II.  Ward met this man at a local NAACP meeting and they became friends.  As they talked and exchanged ideas, the man would ask Ward, Jr. if he’d read certain writers naming authors and books young Roosevelt had never heard of.  One day, he gave Ward, Jr. a pamphlet called “The Communist Manifesto” by Karl Marx.  Ward read it and discovered a voice that spoke to all he had experienced and thought about.

“It wasn’t intellectual to me.  It was real.  After that, I became intensely interested in where all these ideas came from and who wrote them, etc.  And the more I read of the Marxist ideology, the more I identified with its ideals.”

“Everything I read began to translate itself organically to my own experience.  So, it wasn’t just an intellectual affinity I had with Marxism.  It was more than that.  It was organic and natural . . . which is why, even today, I never have any need to separate and overtly talk about my leftist philosophy or ideology.  It is so organic to my thinking, that it manifests itself in everything I do or say.”

He remained at the University of Michigan for only one year, then in 1948 he moved to New York City because he felt it was the capitol of Left Wing Political Movement.  Once in the city, he became very involved with the Progressive Party’s attempt to get Henry Wallace positioned as a prominent presidential candidate.  The irony of all this, Ward explains is, “I had just reached eighteen and couldn’t even vote.  Yet, I became a youth leader of sorts, which was my situation for about three years.   I was out on the street corners of Harlem; leading and fighting for political candidates before I could even vote for them myself.”

During that time, he met and became friendly with Lorraine Hansberry, future author of “A Raisin in the Sun,” and Lonne Elder, future author of the NEC’s first major commercial success, “Ceremonies in Dark Old Men.”  Lorraine, fresh out of the University of Wisconsin, had moved to New York and was involved with the Henry Wallace campaign.  There she met Ward and later became engaged to his roommate, a handsome character named Roosevelt Jackson.  Lonne Elder, who came out of Jersey City, was also a friend of Jackson’s and a member of the Progressive Party movement as well.  The three became close friends, spending much time together drinking, talking and arguing about all sorts of things including art, politics, race and literature.

Street Corner Radical

Throughout all this, young Roosevelt Ward, Jr. was making quite a name for himself as a street corner radical.  This was during the late 1940s, when the seeds of McCarthyism was just becoming the scourge of the land.  Ward was out on the street making speeches, handing out pamphlets and urging people, black people especially, to attend political rallies and meetings that championed Socialism and Marxism as alternatives to American Capitalism and Democracy.  He even began writing during this time.  First speeches, then dramatic skits.

“Just to lighten up the heavy political raps, I started writing primarily satirical things.  And, ultimately wrote my first performance piece.  It was called Star of Liberty, concerning the rebel slave Nat Turner.   This little play, which was only a half hour long, was performed before an audience of nearly 5000 people at a rally.  Well, the response to this play at the rally was very thrilling.  I was nineteen years old when I wrote this piece and that led me in the direction of trying to write more directly for the theatre.  Because up until then, I’d been messing around with short stories and other genres.  Sports writing had been my primary interest, but now drama was beginning to take the focus.”

But before Ward could probe deeper into his newly discovered interest, he was arrested for draft evasion and transported from New York to Louisiana in handcuffs.

The year was 1949.  Roosevelt Ward, Jr. by this time had become so well known as a radical youth leader, that he was given a full time job as organization secretary with the New York chapter of the LYL (Labor Youth League).  And he was also in charge of the Harlem Branch of the LYL.  When the Korean conflict occurred, he became quite outspoken against American participation in the war.  His stand was not only public, but it was also well publicized in the local newspapers.  Being of draft age himself, Ward, Jr., two years before had made an error concerning his draft registration that would later return to haunt him.

In 1948, just after he dropped out of the University of Michigan, Ward, Jr. had returned to Louisiana for three months before going to New York.  While in Louisiana, he celebrated his eighteenth birthday and dutifully went to the draft board to register his name.  Three months later, he moved to New York and notified the Selective Service officer that he was doing so, assuming that his records would then be transferred to New York.  But they weren’t.  Then, for the next three years, while he was busily making a name for himself as a street corner politician, the draft board kept sending forms and letters to his parents’ house in Louisiana.  The parents would then forward them to young “Rosie Ward” as he was then called, when they knew where he lived. Often he lived in so many different places that he was difficult to locate.  Ultimately, he was sent an induction notice that he didn’t know about.  His father, Roosevelt Ward, Sr., had to travel to New York City in order to locate his son so he could fill out the form and send it back.

“I filled it out and sent it back, then promptly forgot all about it,” Ward says.  “Then, one day right after I turned twenty-one, they came and arrested me for ‘draft evasion.’  Now this wasn’t so.  I had filled out the form.  I had tried to stay in touch, which is why they knew where to find me.  But this was the excuse they used to get me off the streets and out of circulation due to my outspoken views of the war.”

Ward, Jr. was returned to Louisiana where he was brought to trial and sentenced to three years in prison.  He was imprisoned for three months and there was an appeal.  During the two-year period while waiting for the appeal to be heard, Ward was released but was restricted to wait out the time in Louisiana.  He was told that he could not specifically return to New York.  “Clearly they didn’t want me to leave Louisiana.  So, I decided to spend the time in New Orleans.”

One year after the appeal was filed, the First Circuit Court of Appeals upheld the original decision.  “After that I made up my mind that I would probably be spending three years in prison.”  But, a second appeal was filed.  That second appeal also took a year to finally be heard.  But this time, the Supreme Court overturned the original decision and Ward was free to travel as he pleased.  “I call it my two years of exile.  But fortunately, the Supreme Court ruled in my favor.  Actually, there was no ruling; they just said that the State had no case and threw the whole thing out.”

Three Friends

Lorraine Hansberry

 Almost immediately, Ward returned to New York  and began once again to live in Harlem.  He also worked in journalism, first as a sportswriter, then later as general editor of The Daily Worker, a left wing newspaper.  But his involvement and interest in being a political youth leader began to fade.  While in New Orleans, Ward had begun to write a full-length play called “The Trial of Willie McGee” based on an infamous case of a black man named Willie McGee executed for supposedly raping a white woman.  “When I got back to New York, I finished this magnum opus of a play.  Then I got together with Lonne and Lorraine and the three of us read this play at a room in the Hotel Theresa uptown.  And that became one of the things that helped to convince them that they should pursue careers as playwrights themselves.  I mean this play ran four to five hours.  And just the sheer fact that I was able to write something that long and that big made them say, ‘Well, maybe we should try it, too.’”

Lonne Elder’s version of the story goes this way:

“When I was very young, I dropped out from college.  And I met another dropout from college, and we were living together in a flat in Harlem.  And he wrote this play.  I liked the play very much but was amazed that he wrote it.  And, interestingly enough, he gathered up his friends to read it and ironically, two of his friends that read the play – one was myself and the other was Lorraine Hansberry.  We read the play.  And from that point on, I became totally immersed in theatre.  That roommate was Douglas Turner Ward, and that’s how it all began.  That’s how I started writing plays.”

Lonne Elder

Paul Mann

The desire to write plays became Ward’s vocation.  And in 1953, in order to learn more about the dramatic process, he decided that it was necessary to learn what acting was all about.  Ward had done some acting in high school, college and even served as the narrator of The Star of Liberty play.  It was always said that he had a good speaking voice and a compelling presence, much of it nurtured and developed during his time of street corner political activity, but he felt he needed to learn more about the seemingly simple yet extremely complex art and so, he enrolled in Paul Mann’s acting workshop and studied with both Paul Mann and his assistant, Lloyd Richards.

“Paul Mann was one of the best acting teachers in America.  But, more important than that, is that he had philosophically committed himself to teaching and dealing with non-majority, non-white students without paternalism during a time when other acting teachers were just not interested in the minority students because they didn’t think they would ever succeed in making a meaningful place for themselves in theatre or film.”

Paul Mann with fellow teachers Lloyd Richards and Patricia Benoit

“Paul, for his own reasons, consciously often went out of his way to welcome and accommodate black and minority students.  He gave many of us full scholarships in order to teach the craft of acting.  The list of his former students includes Sidney Poitier, Ruby Dee, Ossie Davis, Barbara Ann Teer and Cicely Tyson among many others.”

“Lloyd Richards was his assistant.  So, this was not a situation of a white teacher teaching blacks.  He had a black partner in a virtually equal position.  And, Paul was tough.  He took no nonsense and did not indulge in any of that romantic foolery that, because we were black, our talent was natural.  No, he insisted that we learn acting as a craft.  And, whenever we went in with crap, we were told it was crap in no uncertain terms.”

Ward remained studying with Paul Mann for three years while working for The Daily Informer.  When the paper finally closed, due to a lack of funds, Ward shifted to acting.  His first professional job came by accident when a friend and former student of Paul Mann’s acting workshop, Phillip Meister, met Ward on the street and offered him a job in the 1958 production of Eugene O’Neill’s The Iceman Cometh starring Jason Robbards, Jr. and Robert Redford.  Meister was stage manager for the production and needed somebody to understudy Robert Earl Jones (father of actor James Earl Jones) in the production.  The pay was five dollars per show.  Ward took the job and, when asked how would he like to be listed in the program, he said, “As Douglas Turner, not Roosevelt Ward, Jr.”

Name Change

“The name Roosevelt Ward, Jr. had been established in press as a journalist and political dissident.  Now that I was starting on a new career, I wanted to begin with a clean slate.  I wanted to be perceived totally as an actor, without any other opinion, positive or negative, intruding from my past activity.  Not that I was ashamed about any of it.  No, that wasn’t the reason.  I just simply wanted to start with a clean slate.”

“The name Douglas Turner was a combination of Frederick Douglass and Nat Turner, two of the most admired figures of our black past.  Douglass, the black intellectual freedom fighter, and Turner, the Messianic revolt leader who just got up one day and fought the system spontaneously.  Later on, it became too complicated to remain just Douglas Turner, so I added my own last name to it and became Douglas Turner Ward.”

One year later, Douglas Turner auditioned for his former teacher, Lloyd Richards, now a director, and landed a small role in the Broadway show, A Raisin in the Sun, written by his friend, Lorraine Hansberry.  He played one of the moving men and understudied the lead role of Walter Lee Younger, played by Sidney Poitier.  Also, in the cast was Lonne Elder.  Raisin ran for 530 performances on Broadway.  During the last four months of the run, a young actor out of Philadelphia named Robert Hooks was hired as an understudy replacement.  Quickly, he became friendly with both Ward and Lonne Elder.

Robert Hooks explained:

“I had done a lot of stuff around New York, but finally in my first professional show on Broadway was the same play that prompted me to come to New York in the first place, A Raisin in the Sun.  Later, I toured with the show for more than a year.  By this time, Doug had taken over as the lead, Walter Lee Younger.  And I was playing one of the two young men.  Doug Ward, Lonne Elder and I became the Three Musketeers on that tour.  We were meant for each other in life, I guess, because we’ve been friends ever since.”

When he returned to New York, Ward landed a role as Archibald in the now legendary production of Jean Genet’s The Blacks.  After The Blacks, he went from show to show, making a name for himself as a reliable and talented actor.  He also appeared in several nationally aired TV shows, East Side, West Side, Dupont Show of the Month, and Studio One.  Yet, despite his success as an actor, Ward still maintained that he was a writer and that playwriting was his first priority.  And right from the beginning that had always been clear.

Lloyd Richards, who directed A Raisin in the Sun, remembers:

“. . . Lonne was a playwright and Doug was a playwright.  That was clear.  I was conscious of that.  And, as a matter of fact, in hiring them that was even discussed.  And their need for having time and opportunity (to write).”

So, Ward continued writing.

Robert Hooks

Robert Hooks, in the meanwhile, was also making a name for himself as an actor.  And in 1964 got a breakthrough role in Leroi Jones’ (Amiri Baraka) controversial drama Dutchman.

Robert Hooks:

“While we were touring in Raisin, Doug, Lonne and I would talk all the time about the unfairness of theatre in America, how it was designed for white playwrights, white directors, white actors, white dancers and whatever.  And it was unfortunate that there was just an occasional black play.  So we talked abut the need for a permanent institution.  And because of these talks, I started a small theatre in New York called The Group Theatre Workshop.”

“I was doing Dutchman at the Cherry Lane Theatre downtown and I was living in Chelsea at the time.  And one Monday night, which is the actor’s night off, I was asked to come and speak at the Hudson Guild in Chelsea about Blacks in the Theatre and the various problems they were having to face.  The talk was well received and afterwards the kids came up to ask all sorts of questions.  Now I lived right across the street and knew most of these young people.  So I said, “If you’re really and truly interested in theatre, come over to my house.  I’m off on Monday nights.  Let’s talk about it and see if we can work some things out.  And maybe I’ll spend some time working and teaching workshops.  And that’s what happened.  They came and six grew to sixty, because kids started coming from all over the New York area.  So in my living room we started The Group Theatre Workshop, I along with Barbara Ann Teer and a lot of other dedicated friends including Adolph Caesar.  And in my apartment, in my living room, we knocked out a wall and built a theatre.  Eventually I was evicted from this place after the landlord found out what we had done.  But it was time to be moving on anyway.  So I got this loft on Nineteenth Street and Sixth Avenue.  And that’s when we really grew into becoming The Group Theatre Workshop.”

The Group Theatre Workshop

The Group Theatre Workshop attracted interest and concern in the neighborhood, for no one was really quite sure what was going on.  What were all these black kids doing in that apartment every Monday night?  Were they partying?  Was this some sort of unofficial community center or drug shop?

Word got back to Hooks about the neighborhood’s concern.  He thought about ways of communicating what was being done and decided that the quickest, most effective and simplest method would be to put on a show and invite everyone in the neighborhood to come and see it, free of charge.  The show would consist of improvisation, poems and a one-act play called Happy Ending by Douglas Turner Ward.  Happy Ending was one of two short plays by Ward for which Hooks had been trying to raise $35,000 to produce professionally Off-Broadway.  Putting it up in an evening like this would give Hooks and others a chance to see the show on its feet and also test its effect on an audience.  Jerry Tallmer, a writer for the New York Post, was invited to see the work and wrote a rave review the following day about what he saw.  That review strengthened Hooks’ resolve to produce Ward’s plays off-Broadway.

“At that time there weren’t many Black producers.  The LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka) play (Dutchman) I was in, was produced by white producers and that was fine.  I’m glad they produced it because it was a very important time and a very important theatre piece.  But it was also time for Blacks to move into producing.  A lot of whites didn’t like that.  And a lot of people didn’t think it would happen or should happen.  Some people, many people began saying things like, ‘Robert Hooks, he’s an actor.  What’s he doing producing?  We’re the producers, we’re the ones that are supposed to be doing that.’  But the truth is I’ve always been a producer.  Even back when I was younger.  Even before I came to New York, I was producing theatre.  So this was natural to me.  And also, just because a person acts does not mean that he can’t produce.  Also we had two hilarious plays.  You see, during that time in Black Theatre we were dealing with the revolutionary movement by wonderful writers like Amiri Baraka (LeRoi Jones), Ed Bullins and people like that.  But they were writing serious plays.  Doug Ward was writing comedy.  Satire really, which was every bit as revolutionary as the serious plays.  The only difference is they were funny.  Really funny and this appealed to me.  And I knew if we put a quality production together it would work”.

In the process of putting a “quality” production together, Robert Hooks hired Gerald Krone.

Gerald Krone

Hooks, Ward, and Gerald Krone (far right)

“It was during the 1960s, I had a management company that managed off-Broadway productions primarily.  And Doug and Bobby were involved in Day of Absence and Happy Ending. At that time, Bobby was very interested in the possibility of having an all black company.  Black theatre managers, black designers, black everything.  But there are not really too many of those people around.  And so, because I had at that time one of the most successful or certainly one of the most prominent management companies, Bobby came to the company and asked us to manage the production of Day of Absence and Happy Ending.  And it was during that period of time that our relationship with each other evolved.  And it was out of the production of those two plays that the whole concept of the NEC evolved.”

Barbara Ann Teer, who now runs The National Black Theatre, was Robert Hooks’ partner in the Group Theatre Workshop.  Teer had been a dance major at the University of Illinois, had gone to Europe, and then returned to the U.S. via New York City.  Here she became a friend of Doug Ward and Robert Hooks during the run of A Raisin in the Sun.  It was also during this time that due to a knee injury Barbara decided to switch to acting as her profession, rather than dance.  She also discovered that she shared the same dream as Robert Hooks:  “To create an ‘art standard’ for black people.”

Barbara Ann Teer:

“I was fascinated by the emotional outpouring of teenagers in those days.  So I created an art standard.  And there were no plays, there were no written works for them to do, so I had to write them and I had to train them.”

During all this activity, Doug Ward was not directly involved with the Group Theatre but then due to Hooks’ interest in producing his plays, Ward was invited to participate.  “Doug of course was the master in the theatre domain,” says Teer, “and we were like Uncle Doug’s kids.”

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