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Introduction
August Wilson was born Frederick August Kittel in 1945 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, the son of a baker and a cleaning woman (whose maiden name was Wilson). His celebrated cycle of plays about the African-American experience in this century, each one set in a different decade, begins in the time period of 1911 with Joe Turner's Come and Gone, and continues with Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, Fences, The Piano Lesson, Two Trains Running, and Seven Guitars. Among his many awards are two Pulitzer Prizes, for Fences and The Piano Lesson. To date, only one of these plays has been adapted to film. The Piano Lesson, for the Hallmark Hall of Fame. Wilson lives in Seattle, Washington, with his wife, Constanza Romero, and a four-and-a-half year old daughter, Azula Carmen.The following interview with Mr. Wilson transpired over a period of several days, 30 April-3 May 2002, in Kansas City, Missouri, in the Raphael Hotel and at the Hallmark Corporate Headquarters.
Playwright August Wilson never forgets a friend. Seven years ago, in 1995 in his na- tive Pittsburgh, he met a very special lady during the filming of a Hallmark Hall of Fame adaptation of his play, The Piano Lesson. Not a creature of flesh and blood, but a wooden construction of history and memory, this "friend" was a beautifully carved, ornate upright piano especially manufactured for the film. A powerful symbol of a family legacy in the play, the instrument held a personal appeal for Wilson. "I wanted to have that piano," he says, "but the Hallmark people wanted to bring it back to Kansas City."
So, when Wilson himself came to Kansas City in April 2002 as a guest of the Missouri Repertory Theatre, it was only natural that he would pay his respects to his old friend in the Visitors Center of the Hallmark Corporate offices. And sure enough, on display and commanding attention, there she stood, elegant yet powerful, sounding out the strains of a piano rag (it's a computerized instrument that plays by itself). Wilson stood and listened, marveling at the action of the keys. "Must be a ghost pianist," he mused quietly.
During my several visits with August Wilson, it became clear that the importance of music transcends just the instance...