Costume Designer Ruth E. Carter Threads History and the Afrofuture

Published Aug 6, 2023, 8:00 AM

For over three decades, legendary costume designer Ruth E. Carter has created the looks of our most era-defining films. Today, we're celebrating those pieces chronicled in her new book, The Art of Ruth E. Carter: Costuming Black History and the Afrofuture.

At the top, we discuss the current labor movement in Hollywood (5:03), Carter’s upbringing in Massachusetts (8:50), and a formative Langston Hughes poem (12:56). Then, she reflects on her early years in Los Angeles (19:45), the night she met a lifelong collaborator in director Spike Lee (21:52), and the process of making School Daze (25:49), Do the Right Thing (29:06), and Malcolm X (37:42).

On the back-half, Carter describes her innovative work on the Black Panther films (50:40), which earned her two Academy Awards (54:33), the enduring influence of her mother, Mabel Carter (1:03:10), and how she continues to tell the story of the Black experience through costume design (1:04:35).

Pushkin. This is talk easy. I'm standing forgo, so welcome to the show today. I'm joined by legendary costume designer Ruthie Carter. For nearly four decades, she's been creating the looks of some of our most era defining films, from Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing to Ryan Coogler's Black Panther. In fact, her work on Black Panther and its sequel will come to forever netted Carter two separate Oscars for Best Costume Design, whether it's in Malcolm x Amistad or How Stella Got Her Groove Back. Carter's work is marked by a mix of history, empathy and playfulness. A self described despion at heart, She's crafted iconic pieces for actors like Denzel Washington, Eddie Murphy, Angela Bassett, and the late Chadwick Boseman, all of whom are central subjects of her new book, The Art of Ruthie Carter Costuming Black History in the Afro Future. The book features stories, sketches, and all the inspiration behind some of her most beloved outfits. You can find that book at your local bookstore or wherever you do your reading. As you may have heard on our episode from last week with screenwriter Alex O'Keefe. We're currently undergoing a pretty historic strike in Hollywood, as both the writers and the actors continue to hold out against the studios. But what I think has been lost in this conversation over the summer is how these strikes affect all facets of the filmmaking process, from the production designers and script supervisors to the gaffers and cinematographers. No job in this industry is untouched by these strikes, including of course, the role of costume designer. And so with that in mind, I wanted to celebrate the life and work of Ruthie Carter. We discussed her upbringing in Massachusetts, the enduring influence of her late mother, Mabel, the night she met a lifelong collaborator in Spike Lee, and how she's told the story of the black experience through her inspired work. This is Ruthie Carter. Ruthie Carter, a pleasure to have here.

Thank you.

We're talking in a pretty historic moment here in Hollywood, with these concurrence strikes for the actors and the writers. How have you been making sense of this time?

Yes, I feel like it grew on us from the pandemic when we were all at home and everybody was binge watching every series that was on television just to get through the days and months.

What did you watch?

I watched Billions, I watched Ozark, I watched The Godfather of Harlem.

He really bens the shows I did.

I did. So as we came out of that, I think that part of us never changed. The series work became, you know, a thing, and I don't think that the writers or the actors expected the series to be such a part of our lifestyle as it is now. And their contracts weren't really speaking to this place where we are now, and it has to change, you know, it has to change for them. That's just the bottom line. And I support that. I do, though, know what strikes how they affect all of the people, all of the companies that we work with, all the people that we work with that are not writers or actors. They just get a check every week. They're not getting residuals, They're not participating in this bigger conversation and financial way, so they're hurting. And I just want them to know that we need to end this strike so companies, you know, can bring their employee. He's back and costumers can go back to work on their jobs.

Do you feel like crew are not part of the conversation enough in this moment?

Absolutely, we're always considered like you know, below the line, and crew is even lower.

And what's lower than below the line?

I know, I guess it's under the line, sub zero sub zero line. It's not funny.

Hey, you're the one laughing. Sorry, no, I was looking. Yes.

Well, you know, we're the meat and potatoes of the movie industry. We're the ones that make it work.

We're the ones that meat and potatoes somehow feels worse.

We're the backbone where the backbone of the industry.

Now that sounds like a presidential speech. Hell yeah.

And you know we work hard to create what is presented in theaters on your TV set, so you know, with a lot of respect for them. You know, actors show up sometimes they work a week, but Crue is there for the duration. They're there for weeks and weeks months.

They always show up on time, right, Well, yeah, next question. You know, through these turbulent months, you've been on tour with this excellent new book of yours, Thank you. It's called the Art of Ruth E. Carter Costuming, Black History and the Afro Future. Now, you once said costuming design kind of found me. The job is the sum of my parts. But before we sit with the job itself, I want to understand the parts that make up that mosaic, the first of which I think is empathy. Because coming of age in the late sixties early seventies, you're the youngest of eight children in Springfield, Massachusetts. Was your mother the first person to open your eyes to the complexity of people?

Yes, my mother was a para psychologist for the city in nineteen sixty nine, and growing up with my mom, I saw people and the layers of people because she talked about it a lot at home. She analyzed us quite often.

What was her diagnosis of you, Well.

It's not what you said, it was what in between what you said is what I'm listening to.

It's your attitude, and your attitude.

Was kind of a rebel, wanting to do my own thing, wanting to do it my way. My mom always wanted me to be like, you know, a young lady, like every mother wants their daughter, and I wanted to be like a madonna, you know, just your rebel with a cause mismatch earrings and scrunchy boots, and growing up with my mother, she knew everybody who had problems and anybody who needed to have a little counseling that went into this like drop in center that was downtown. A lot of them she would talk to. And so we'd be riding along in the car with her and she would see someone, and my brother and I were close in age, would be really embarrassed because she'd start rolling down her window to talk to them, and she'd say, oh, he's okay or she's okay. But she also did a lot of work with like group counseling, and she would drag me along. I never wanted to go.

She brought you to the sessions.

She brought me to the sessions. It was families that were sitting around in a circle, and there will be other counselors there too, So I would hear these stories.

Do you remember one in particular?

I remember saying out loud one time when I heard someone's story, and I said, well, sticks and stones will break your bones, but words will never hurt you. And I was corrected. I was told words will can hurt you.

You would sit there kind of absorbing the information. That does sound like something the youngest sibling would be roped into doing. Yeah, roped the rest of your siblings were like.

I'm out of here.

You're the young one. This is your time. It's your time to shine while sitting in that room. Yeah, exactly, hearing other people's problems.

Yeah.

Did you ever feel like your mother was bringing her work home at least in terms of how she related to you. Did you feel like she was diagnosing you or she was treating you like one of her patients.

Yeah, all the time. My mother was NonStop with that. I mean, we had books everywhere around the house that were psychology books, and she we actually went back to school at fifty so those books were right there. I remember reading like one called Hidden Victims. You know, I'm like, I felt like I was a hidden victim?

Is that how you felt? I did?

I did because I felt like there was, you know, this dynamic that was going on where I wanted to be whoever I wanted to be, and then there was this responsibility that I had to mental health with my mother and her journey. You know, I was caught in the middle somewhere.

So it sounds like your mother forced you a little bit to invest in the present and the people around you.

Yes, she reinforced how people should be treated, you know, and how you should interact with people, and how to be empathetic for somebody who's struggling.

Well, So if she was the one that made you care about your currents or ccumstances, yeah, it sounds like it was the work of poets that made you first consider the past, that investment in history, a history that would inform so much of your work to come in films like Malcolm x Amistad Selma. But before all that, did your introduction to black history come by way of a poem called Mother to Son?

Yes, Crystal Stare, you know, by Langston Hughes. Not only that, but the poems of like Nikki Giovanni, you know, Tired Sick and tired of being tired, lost in White America or Sonya Sanchez you know, I am gonna take me seriously, Ed Bullin's. I mean, there's so many poets. The other thing that was a part of my growing up was going to these summer programs that encouraged and taught black history, black music, African dance.

This was at the upward bound upward Bound.

Was one of them. Uhuru Sasa was another one. They were at Amherst College and UMass in Massachusetts.

You said ones that inherently you could read a poem like this one from Lakes and Hughes and understand the history and what it was trying to communicate. You could fundamentally understand an element of it. Yes, what were you beginning to understand at that age?

I was introduced to like the last poets in Langston, and I knew that there was a revolution amongst the community that was happening, that civil rights, you know, the Black Power movement was taking effect in my community, with my family, my community, my friends, and you know, I wanted to wear an afro. I didn't want to have my hair straightened. You know, no matter how many times my aunt would straighten my hair, I would go in the bathroom and wet it back up and make it back into the afro. Because I had to be a part of this change and understanding the words of the poets and the playwrights was important to the culture and the literature that was circulating. And know that a poem like life for me ain't been no Crystal stare.

Well should we have it right here. Do you want to read it?

Yeah? Nice mother to son by Langston Hughes well Son. I tell you life for me ain't been no crystal stare. It has tax in it and splinters and boards torn up and places with no carpet on the floor. Bear, But all the time I has been a climbing on and reaching land ins, turning corners, and sometimes going in the dark where there ain't been no light. So boy, don't you turn back. Don't you set down on them steps because you finds it's kind of hard. Don't you fall now? For I still going, honey, I still climbing, And life for me ain't been no crystal stare. So it's just telling you, you know.

What is it telling you?

Pick yourself up by your bootstraps, keep going, don't stop. It's not going to be easy. This is my life is a testament that the road's not paved, it's not smooth, that you have to endure, you have to struggle to get to where you need to go.

Did you take that mentality with you as you enroll at Hampton University?

I did.

I was unsure when I enrolled at Hampton University because I was such a rebel in high school, and I was the only school I applied to. Once I got there, I said, okay, I have a legacy of teachers in my family. I should be an educator. I said, okay, I love theater, so I'll study special education and then I can do something with theater for the deaf, and I can learn sign language. And that sounds really cool and theatrical and performative.

But you had started doing sketches before that, right.

I would sketch at home. I had a desk what I thought was a desk in my room, and my brother, who was a painter, had all of the brushes and chalks and all kinds of cool stuff in his room, and I would go in there and break off a piece of chalk and bring it to my room and try to copy pretty much what they my two brothers, who were artists, were doing. I pulled up the leaflet of this desk one day, and inside of it was a sewing machine, and I was like, wow, what is this contraption? Obviously my mother put it in my room because I needed a desk, and also maybe because she thought maybe I'd learned something about sewing. My first thing I made was a patchwork jean jacket. It was like a blazer.

I actually have it here.

You have done your homework on so many levels here. I wouldn't be surprised if you found Tommy back in Springfield, who I gave the jacket to.

You know, I did talk to Tommy. He has some issues with you. Oh oh, you owe him three dollars from lunch one day and he's still inside.

He loved that jacket though it's worth him.

But that's a fair trade.

So the things I made I just I think I just enjoyed the process of making them. I never really wanted to wear anything that I made.

Well, Tommy can't say the same. So help may make sense to this then, because as I understand it, the three elements at play history, empathy, and a practical ability to both make clothing and create these sketches. You take all of that with you to Hampton University. Yes, after a couple of years you let go of the special education track that you were on and begin studying cost and design under the tutelage of yourself. Yes, because the school did not have a design professor in the beginning of your time there. Cut to you post graduation, twenty six years old, living in a Korea Town apartment. Here in the city. You have a mattress on the floor, a portfolio of illustrations designed on spec a car that was called a Vokes Wagon Rabbit that I honestly didn't even know existed until researching your life. I don't know why they got rid of the rabbit.

I don't know either. It was really a practical car, you know. It was square, very square in shape. Mine was white, and I drove it across country.

What happened when you got here? Twenty six years old, nineteen eighty six.

When I came to Los Angeles, I was excited, but I actually didn't know what to expect. So I was looking in the paper for work for a not I didn't even call it a costume design I was looking for work as a costume designer. I didn't know all those levels of costumer, set, costumer, key, costumer. I didn't know anything about that. I was just trying to be a designer. I opened the LA Times and the calendar section had a photo of Los Angeles Theater Center opening up, a brand new building that had all these theaters underwof I think it was five theaters under one roof, and I looked at the staff on this picture that was, you know, as sending a stairwell, and I thought, there I am. That's where I'm going to go get a job.

You thought I should be in that stairwell.

I should be in that photo.

So you talk your way into a job. Then you talk your way into a promotion. Yep. Then you get the promotion, but don't really like it because it's administrative work, that's right. Then you finally land within the Los Angeles Theater Center at a job you like, for a show called a Night for Dancing, Yes, which was being mounted to the sounds of Stevie Wonder's songs in the Key of Life.

That's correct.

During intermission of one of those performances, your friend Robbie Reid brings a friend of hers backstage. Yes, what happened that night?

Well, I was the person who was doing costumes for this dance pformance. I was also like running the backstage, you know, the area. I was also the person doing the laundry, you know, secure designing. But you're doing everything and they.

Paid you individually for each of those jobs.

Right, No, not at all. I don't even remember getting paid. I think it was all volunteer, but a night for dancing actually was like an independent production. They eventually went into a little dance studio in South Central Co, Lula Washington's Dance Theater, and it was a tiny little place and it was being performed in there. So people were just like packing themselves in this dance studio to see this amazing performance. And Spike Lee and Robbie Reid were there. One evening and I was talking to a friend I knew from Hampton, who was a lighting designer in theater in Los Angeles, and I asked her to look at my portfolio because I couldn't believe I was like struggling to find work as a designer, and she said, show me your book. I opened my book and talked about the sketches that were all done on spec that were in my book, and Spike was there and he was listening. Then we went out afterwards, all of us the same age. We went out to a club and Spike was asking me to dance, and I just kept thinking, is this guy like trying to date me?

What's going on?

No, he was just interested in me as a costume designer because once we sat down. He started saying, you know, you should go to one of the universities USC or UCLA and go to the film department and sign up to be on a senior thesis project. And at the time I was a thesbian. I didn't really want to. I had no interest in film. I really was still just trying to get into theater as a designer. But eventually I took Spike's advice and found myself on the set of a USC student film. And I don't remember the name of the film, but it was two people sitting on a swing, and I thought, this is really weird, Like I can barely hear what they're saying. I'm used to like theater where they're like And I found myself and these people were just sitting on a porch having a conversation on a porch swing.

You said once that while I was sitting there, I thought to myself, how do I understand my contribution to this? What does it require? Since to me, they're wearing not a costume but normal clothing. How can I be a costume designer and tell this story? How were you beginning to make sense of what would become your job shortly thereafter.

I was always thinking about how I could be a better costume designer, or how I could be one. And because I had done so much theater in college, I felt like I was a costume designer and now here entering into the professional world and I would have a bigger footprint. And I saw these two people in normal clothes, and I kind of came from bigger than life in theater and was processing how to be as subtle as that and still tell story and how delicate a hand you have to have in order to bring to life a story about people. And it was a challenge.

Not only was it a challenge, it was a challenge you had to quickly figure out on the first film you ever worked on, Yeah, which was A School Days in nineteen eighty seven. For those who may not remember it, the movie set on an HBCU, and on this campus is a collection of clicks, each with differing political ideologies, which of course come with their own individual looks. This would be a challenge for a seasoned costume designer. How did you manage it as a first timer?

Well, I was fortunate in that I had gone to an HBCU and experienced a lot of what the story visually was telling, and so I knew the fraternities and the sororities and their look and it was always a very creative world. It was very theatrical a lot of times what the pledges would wear. So it was the perfect combination for me having had the experience of an HBCU and also being in theater. So the other part of it was that we had these revolutionaries called the Fellas in the film, and it represented that diaspora, the black diaspora that I grew up in, you know, the revolution, but now we were talking about Soweto and divesting in South Africa, Nelson Mandela, and I was enjoying that opportunity that I had to design a movie.

That enthusiasm propels you forward and onto the set of this film. And it's interesting because once production begins. You have this quote that I've been sitting with. You said it on the Team Deacons podcast. That podcast, of course, is co hosted by the great cinematographer Roger Deacons. You said, I was sad a lot on school days. It was eye opening to me that this would be an artistic form that I would have to take command of on my own. I wasn't going to be amongst my peers. It was a different pursuit.

Yeah, it was because there was so much work in costume design and I was there from the early morning till way into the evening, and I watched my peers, you know, get dressed up and go party together and talk the next day about, you know, how much fun they had had or what guys they were talking to. And I found myself not participating in that. So a part of me wanted that too, and I just wasn't going to get it because there was so much to do with all of those cast members in Atlanta to dress, and I discovered that it was going to be a very solitary pursuit. So it did make me sad because, you know, it seemed like everybody had a life except for me. So I loved what I did, but there I was young still and wanted to, you know, have the fun life too.

Be in the mix. Yeah, be in the mix. It's a fascinating juxtaposition because when you step outside of the set, outside of your workstation, did you see how both school days and especially do the right thing thing reflected and influenced the culture at large in the late eighties early nineties. You're talking about those cool things that you wanted. Those films in many ways had the cool things, had the cool things, and influenced the cool things to come. Yes, did you feel in part responsible and part of that culture.

I did feel a big part of what we created in those films that we were always saying, we're going to uplift the race. We were going to create some new trends. We were going to be innovative and be unique and original. So that was always kind of that we would be on that track, and Spike was always reinforcing us trying something new and creating something that we don't necessarily see on film. We wanted to bring out the black dicepora of Brooklyn and you know, the cultural melting pot of you know, African fabrics and saturated colors, and that was not happening at that time in cinema.

When you look back on Do the Right Thing specifically, what immediately comes to mind.

I remember all the cast coming in and getting their one outfit that they would wear the whole summer. I remember that we had Nike sponsoring us, so we had all of this stuff from Nike that was really bright. We also set up a workroom and we made a lot of African tops and middrift tops and a lot of basketball jerseys, and that all had to go through Spike, you know, what jerseys would be seen in his films. And so I just remember all of us feeling like this New York family, this New York family of filmmakers that had come back together after school days to do this film about Spike's home city, Brooklyn. You know, it was hot, it was summer. We were dressed the same, you know, and shorts and tank tops and stuff. And seeing us as a crew, and seeing a lot of our friends too who were cast, it just became like something we went to every day and told this great story.

There are so many iconic costume design choices in this movie. You've mentioned some of them, but there's the Love Hate Jewelry that Radio Raheem has Rosie Perez in that yellow top with a big black bow that you tied last minute before filming. But I'd be remiss to not mention the sneakers because the sneakers really are at the center of one of the most defining costume related arguments committed to film, and that is between bugging out and Clifton on the steps of a Brooklyn brownstone. Why don't we take a look?

You almost knocked me down?

Man, what does excuse me? Excuse me? I'm sorry that on you not now.

I used to buy my friend new white head Jordans. I just fought and that's all you can say is excuse me? Serious? Yeah, I'm serious? Two times, two times I told you to buy my sneakers?

Who told you walking outside of the block, Who told you to be in my neighborhood brownstone?

Who told you to buy a brownstone on my block, in my neighborhood on my side of the street?

Yo?

What you want to live in a black neighborhood for anyway?

Man?

Mother fuck gentrification. I understand it is a free country. Man can live wherever you want.

Free man, I should you're for saying that stupid ship who show?

Man?

You're Jordans off?

Fucked up? Man?

You mind gonna throw them out them?

Man, they looked at the good before he messed up.

He did this shit on purpose. Man, He wasn't even talking.

About your mam.

Man.

How much you pay form around one hundred and eight with tax?

If you look you a black man has a loving heart.

This time you see to be coming. Then you cross the street quick. Thank you for to make you find me on the path.

Look you, I'm a righteous black man. I want you to be a serious trouble man. They want to move back to Massachusetts.

I was born in Brooklyn. It's a wonderful scene as we watched that together. What was going through your head?

How much we loved Brooklyn and Bedsty and how much of a neighborhood it was and still is in some ways it's changed a lot. But then we saw it as like a neighborhood that we knew and that we loved, and we wanted to honor the people of Brooklyn Bedsty by showing all the layers of you know, the cornermen and mothers, sister in the window, and also how it does look hot, and we wanted that to come across on screen. I remember that was something that Spike had and continue to emphasize every day on set, that we had to sweat people up and make it really look like a hot day in the.

Summer watching it. Yes, yeah, very sweaty. After you make school days, do the right thing, no better blues. Your relationship with Spike is pretty cemented at that point. But it's also around that time that some journalists frame his on set temperament as being a little argumentative and combative, to which you responded in a magazine profile of you from nineteen ninety two. A lot of people just don't know how to take it when Spike goes off. But I know he's trying to say something, and I kind of just tune out the yelling and I try to figure out what it is he wants to have happen.

Thank you, Mabel Carter?

Is that your mother? Is that your mother? When you say goes off? How does that manifest emphatic?

You know, waving of your hands and trying to get the communication out and sometimes overly emphasizing words and feeling like you're being attacked. But I'm thinking about what he's saying is like I want a green hat over a blue hat. And so I'm thinking to myself, then why is he saying it so big?

Why was he.

Because he believes in what he's doing. He's creating a tableau, he's creating a picture that has a flaw, even though that flaw is small. He wants it out of there, and he wants the thing that he sees in his mind to be in the picture. So you respond quick, but you don't take the emphatic way that it's presented as personal. And I think I had to let the wind blow through my hair and survive the passion. But I always felt that he had a love for me, He had a belief in me that he liked what I was doing. So there were a lot of times that balanced against the emphatic, you know, Spike with the caring person who let you know that you did a good job.

Did the challenges grow harder as the films themselves expanded. I'm thinking about something like Malcolm X that is so wide in scope. How do you manage that temperament and the task you had at hand.

I think the task at hand was bigger if for everyone, including Spike, so you had less of the emphat passionate you know, outbursts or whatever you want to call it.

It focused on me.

He focused everybody. And I just remember one day coming in like really late, and we were in a huge stadium when shooting Malcolm X giving a speech with all the Muslims dressed in their robes and things, and I had been up like all night studying what the Hajh would look like in Egypt, and Spike when I got there, he was like sitting in my department, like you know, writing out some shoot notes and almost like clocking me. And he was like, Ruth, why are you coming in so late? And I said, you know, and I showed him all these sketches I had done for the Hajj that I need to send to Egypt to the crew that was forming there to let them know exactly what we needed. And he was okay with it. But the fact that he was like sitting there like like the principal life in my department, you know, like watching how things were going and then questioning me I was late, you know, like I was working. He wanted everybody to be on point, so he was watching for the ball to drop somewhere.

As I understand that Malcolm X was the first period picture you made. To make that film possible, you all post up in a vacated parking garage on Saint Felix in Brooklyn, four floors a basement, each floor representing five years in Malcolm X's life. Correct, How did this work?

It was a building that one of Spike's assistants walked me from the present place where forty Acres was, which was an old firehouse that was converted into offices and there wasn't enough space for me. He walked me around the corner to Saint Felix and he said, Spike just bought this building. You should see it. And we went over there, and you know, he had a key, and I walked up the steps and looked at each floor, and because I'd come out of theater and opera, I was like, this is perfect. And so we approached Spike and asked if we could work out of there. He said okay. And so the car elevator, like the big freight elevator, was great for rolling in racks of clothes to each level. The basement had the nineteen twenties and went all the way up to the sixties at the top floor, and people would show up and depending on the scene they were in and the era, they would go to that floor and get checked in and we would clothe them from Malcolm X. And then we had this great elevator whereas we collected all of the fitted clothes, they would they collect them in this elevator and loaded onto a truck to go to set, so it was like the perfect building for a New York City costume shop.

Did that movie reawaken a kind of like rigorous research approach that you would then take in the films to come.

Yes, it did, And because I had done a lot of research before, I was excited and constantly combing through the eras we were dealing with. You know, I remember researching the zoot suit, how the fashion was considered a hoodlum fashion, and how many inches the pants were at the ankle, how wide they were at the knee, and I took all of that information to Manhattan, Taylor. I remember Spike really wanting these zootsuits to be you know, bold and bright, when it actually, you know, became sort of like the beginning of the arc in Malcolm X's life, from this zoot suit dance hall guy to this hustler in New York City who was actually clowned about his zutsuit when he got there and sort of changed his look a little and then became I went to prison and was introduced to the Nation of Islam, and so the palette is cleansed by this denim where in prison and then coming out and meeting Elijah Muhammad for the first time. It's the fifties and the drape of the fifties, and how now it feels very much like a black and white movie. And then becoming this national speaker before the Nation of Islam, and then going to Egypt to make a hash, and how he became a little bit more human. You know, I gave him a pink tie. I softened the color palette, and so when he emerges from his Hajh to Mecca, he is a change to man.

Now, most people listening to that right now would think she not only needs, but deserves a vacation for the amount of work required. And yet, dear listener, she did not take a vacation, because what happens next are a series of period piece films from Cobb to Rosewood leading up to Amistad, all of which you've described in multiple interviews as tough experiences despite being made with nice groups of people. It was tough walking into a Hollywood framework, you once said, where people weren't used to seeing people like me in the lead position. We've been there cleaning and shining the shoes, but we haven't been there as the department head making the decision as a creative artist.

Correct.

What do you remember about that period as you're waiting through this industry.

Yeah, I remember like directors really believing in me, and then people under them having doubts, and then amongst colleagues sort of being told how to do it and really not wanting to do it the way Hollywood wanted me to do it, because I had had this experience in New York of doing it my way. So there were things that I wanted to implement that the Hollywood system was not using, like what computers. My brother gave me a computer and he showed me a program like Excel, and I wanted to put the whole cast on this Excel sheet with all of their measurements and take that sheet with me to shop or to pull costumes out of costume house, and most people were not working with computers. My brother gave me screen capture software, so I was screen capturing Tina Turner's concerts and printing out the images of them on stage, and people weren't necessarily doing that. In the early nineties.

You equited making big budget films in Hollywood to a ivory tower with stars in the sky. How does an artist make art in an ivory tower? Like setting where people who don't know how to do your job are telling you how to do your job.

You know, thank you Mabel Carter again for the little bit of psychology I got. You know, there is a psyche game here to understanding not what they're saying, but what they're saying in between what they're saying.

You once called costume designers psychologies just social workers and psychiatrists.

Oh yeah, couldn't be said better. And that has to do with a lot of things. Understanding you know, what people's intent is with what they're asking you for, because you are the expert. And that's what I think I learned over the time that I've worked with producers and the Ivory Tower that they're not costume designers. They're going to have ideas, They're going to want to feel like they're a part of the bigger picture, and sometimes they know exactly where they want to take the picture when it's done. So you have to kind of understand that and doesn't mean that you waiver from your artistic vision. It means that you broaden it and understanding what it is that they're looking to achieve with the costume war with the look. So you really are in this kind of ground where you need to evaluate all of the input that you're getting from one side, and sometimes it's just incorporating a little bit that they know that you listen to them and you are doing this thing that they're looking for.

Can you pinpoint the moment or the film where you arrive at the place of I'm going to do it my way. I'm comfortable you hired me for a reason.

Oh, there's a couple of instances that I can think of. One was on Tina Turner when we were shooting her early days and Nutbush, Tennessee and the Ivory Tower. They said, you know, she doesn't look like Tina Turner, you know, and it's like, well, she's a nut Bush like, she's not Tina Turner yet. And I just had to stick by, you know what I felt would help create this arc for her. But also being on a film with Meg Ryan and called again the Ropes, and I remember Meg having a conversation with me and her trailer and she said, as long as we like it, as long as we like it, it's going to work. And would she strut out of her trailer and go to camera. You know, she embodied the character so well and she felt so comfortable that I felt like, you know, there is this part that is important that the actor who's in front of the camera needs to feel supported by the costume and needs to feel like it is what this character would wear.

We'll be right back after a quick break. Once you get mostly comfortable with the Ivory Tower like setting, it sounds like you bring all of these experiences that we've pinpointed to. That first conversation with Ryan Cougler on Black Panther, how did that go?

Well, I've said before, you know, Marvel's like the CIA. I was sitting in front of Ryan Cougler and Nate Moore. You know, there was no script for me to read. I just got a couple of pages out of the comics and I had to ask you know, family and friends about Wakanda, and you know, everyone was excited to tell me what they thought of it and what it was. And so I masked all of these like cool images for Afro Future, and I couldn't open them. I couldn't get access to Dropbox on the Marvel Studio a lot, there's a firewall. So I was a little bit panicked because this was an opportunity, was a level up, and Ryan was sitting in front of me talking about Spike Lee movies and how much he really loved them, you know, studying as a film student and growing up. He remembered seeing Malcolm X with his family, and so he said, you know, I was there with my dad. I was sitting on his lap watching Malcolm X. And he said, I remember the costumes and as a kid. So that was cool to me in some way. But I also felt like, very strongly that I had something to offer him, that I had like a body of work that I could bring to the table, and it kind of relaxed me and opened me up to more things that we could share in conversation about filmmaking and about our desires for a movie like Black Panther.

It must have felt like a full circle moment.

It didn't yet. I think it wasn't until I actually got to the set of Black Panther that I felt like I felt when I was looking at the Pyramids in Egypt and on a Spike Lee joint. You know, here I was doing a film about Black Panther and expressing culture and African afrofuture technology, all of that.

For those maybe unfamiliar afrofuturism, going by a few different people's definitions, combines elements of science fiction, historical fiction, and magical realism with non Western beliefs. In some cases, it's both a re envisioning of the past and a speculation about the future rife with cultural critiques. How did you unpack that concept by way of the costume design in that first movie?

I think, you know, I was living my own personal Afro future, because I mean that means that, you know, I came to the table with knowledge of history, and I could do research. I could research the tribes, I could implement historical facts and things like that into the costumes. But I was learning about the latest technology and costume design. So I learned about three D printing and implemented that into Queen Ramonda's look. You know, I learned about how to create a superhero, the vacui form that needs to happen, the muscle suit, the raised printing, and you know, and within all of those technologies, there's still that root of storytelling where what is the raised print and how do we express that in this African motif? And so in many ways, I was bringing myself into Afro future.

You know people like to say and the rest was history, except in your case it actually it was history. It is history because come the twenty nineteen Oscars, once the film had been seen around the world, making over a billion dollars, the telecast arrives at the Best Costume Design category and well here's how.

That went, and the Oscar goes to Black Panther Root. This is the first Oscar and third nomination for Ruth Carter.

She was previously.

Nominated in this category for Malcolm X and Amistad.

Wow, I got it. This has been a long time coming. Ha Spike Lee, thank you for my start. I hope this makes you provo. Marvel may have created the first black superhero, but through costume design, we turned him into an African king. It's been my life's honor to create costumes. Thank you to the Academy. Thank you for honoring African royalty and the empowered way women can look and lead on screen. Thank you to my cruise around the world who helped bring Wakanda to life. Our genius director Ryan Coogler, you are a guiding force. Thank you for your trust in understanding my role and telling the African American story. Adding vibranium to costumes is very expensive, So thank you Victoria Alonso, Kevin Pie, Louis Espresito, Jeffrey turn Off, Bob Iger, and Nate Moore. My career is built with passion to tell stories that allow us to know ourselves better. This is for my ninety seven year old mother watching in Massachusetts. Mom, thank you for teaching me about people and their stories. You are the original superhero.

Thank you.

I had a hard time watching that speech for a long time. Why was that so many emotions personal things, you know, like the way I looked and going to be on the big stage and is my dress right? Is everything right? I had to skip through a part of the speech that think the cast because the person who was coaching me said, when you hear the music, skip down to the part about your mom. Make sure you get that in. So when I heard the music, I skipped down. And you know, it's kind of like one of my regrets that they were there right there in the front row, smiling and I didn't get a chance to thank them, And also that all the costume designers that were nominated were all seated together, and I think it's kind of like that feeling like, I hope this happens, but it may not. Because they're established and they've got oscars between them, many oscars between them. They might be the darling of the Academy for all I know. So don't be so sure it's yours.

But the first line of your speech, it's been a long time coming.

Yes, that was not written either, that I just emoted from my heart.

Had you felt that it was a long time coming?

Yeah, I felt like I had really wanted to win the Oscar and that my career wasn't in pursuit of it. But it was the what if you win? What if I had been nominated twice before, had been to the Oscar ceremony, and so I reflected on so many movies, such a big career already, that being recognized by the Academy at this highest honor was a long time coming.

You said once, I had to examine what that meant, what this award meant for the culture, and what it meant for me on this long journey.

Yes, I had lots of people that knew my films, and you know, saw my work in lots of films, and we didn't necessarily feel like we were seen or the films were seen, you know, by the wider audience, and this was a time when we were seen. And I think that my fans and people that know me jump for joy when it happened, not only for me but for the body of work.

It's been four years since that speech, of course, since then you want another Oscar for the sequel? Wakinda forever? Do you have a better idea of what the work means to you now in this moment? Is that answer a little clearer than it was then?

I'm clearer about who the work touches and who's that Not only is it like the culture of African American people and their vision of themselves and their vision of their community and their vision of their future, but also inspires those who are struggling that want to raise to the top and that you want to have a voice or see their art being displayed. I think it touches them that here is somebody who came from modest means and rose to the highest honor.

In that speech, you see the late Chadwick Boseman. You mentioned your mom, who then was ninety seven and who would later pass away earlier this year at one hundred and one. Correct, God bless her. Yeah, I was thinking about that day in the pandemic when you and your team were putting together this traveling exhibition of your work. It is called Ruth E. Carter afro Futurism and Costume Design. And to put this collection together, they of course needed the old black sewing machine and the desk that you made your first marks on. Do you remember the day they retrieved that desk?

Yes, I was sent photographs from my mother's caregiver of the men that had it on a dolly and they were rolling it down the driveway of my mother's house. And I had wrote a sign inside the leaflet that said, you know, this belongs to Ruth E. Carter, Please contact me if you want to get rid of it or something like that, you know. And I guess I had written that before I went to school or something, and I thought, you know, I never want to not see this sewing machine here. If somebody wants to clean out the basement, contact me.

You know.

And here it was leaving my mother's house, going down the driveway like a prince or a princess in all of its glory. It really did feel like I was just honoring me and my past, and my origin story was actually being put on a pedestal that I was proud of, and it was this, you know, it became this just beautiful wooden desk that was traveling to the big time.

You know, what did you make of the fact that that it was still with your mother, that this begon of light in your childhood, that put that sewing machine makeshift desk in your room, That it all began there and in many ways, of course, began with her. How did you hold all of that?

You know, I think it's it's a testament to being a little artsy kid, having the ups and down of living as a kid in a household where you know your mother wants to drag you to counseling sessions. She actually wanted me to follow my dream and encouraged me to when I decided to pack up my Volkswagen rabbin drive across country. You know, I got a trip tick from the Triple A and drove it to New Mexico. So my mother was encouraging in that way. You know, she too was a part of the Great Migration in the nineteen forties when she left her parents home in Virginia and moved north for better opportunities. So I was feeling like I'm you know, wasn't much different than her, and that I have a bit of her spirit with me, and that sewing machine that she was given by her relative, that she gave to me is a marker of that family history.

My last question. You dedicated this book to her, and you mentioned the great migration that she undertook. At the beginning of this conversation, we talked about your leap to move to Los Angeles, and I'm just thinking about that young woman who gets a phone call from Spike Lee in the spring of eighty seven and says, this is the man of your dreams, to which you said, Denzel and he said, God did. But I'm thinking of you putting that phone down in your Koreatown apartment, locking it up, uprooting your life, going to Brooklyn, investing in something you did not know could possibly be your future. On an inkling on a hunch, we'll call it, an intuition who was asking questions even then how she can make a contribution to this medium. And I suppose I wonder thirty six years years later, one monograph and an exhibition that we just mentioned when we talk about this work when we look at your book, when you're sitting in that exhibition staring at that damn sewing machine, do you feel like you have an answer to the question what am I contributing to this medium?

Yes. The first time walking through the exhibition, I was so touched emotionally I cried. I felt like there was so much thought that was put into the costumes that were on display, and then there were so many more that weren't there that I could see the heart and soul of my passion. Because each film had its own place in time, It had its own hidden meanings for me and intent, and they were all done separately from each other, but here they are all together, sort of lacing a timeline of my life and my career. And I had sacrificed so much to get it done, to present this to the world, and I was so proud of having that fire that was burning in me to define what it is I wanted to say and contribute, and I did, you know, and I saw it so well collectively I did with the indigo that I used in Roots, or the way we used red and on the door milage, and just wanting to be that person that brought it that brought. It brought the culture, and also it brought the history. And I see it. I see it, so I feel like she was pursuing it on every project. And she may have not felt like an artist that it was done. You could have done more, but see them in the exhibition, I feel like, collectively it's there. The answer is clear that I did contribute to the beauty of telling the African American story.

When you remember, in walking through the exhibit, you said it made you emotional, it seems to me that the part that made you emotional, at least just sitting across from you, is that idea of sacrifice. And I guess I'm wondering was it all worth that sacrifice.

I think it was worth the sacrifice, even though at times it feels sad and it hurts that I couldn't be that ride or die in the car with my mom all the way, you know, and she wanted me to move back home to Springfield and help her out, but I stayed in Los Angeles or in New York, and but I you know, i'd go back home. And this career allowed me to like buy her a new car and pay her house off and do all kinds of stuff I wouldn't have been able to do if I hadn't moved back home to Springfield. You know, so I wanted to continue to be uh my mom's road dog, but I had to do it from a distance. And I think she understood, but you know, she couldn't help. But wanting, you know, like any parent wants their kid to move back home of all places. And I don't have children. And I think that, you know, was because I'd say, wow, Steven Spielberg just called, and I'm going to do Amistan. I like, can't get pregnant now, I have to do that movie first, and then another movie would come and like, oh, I got to go to New York.

I gotta work for spy. Is Steven Spielberg to blame? Is that who we should?

I know, I felt like that when I said it, you know, I got a homistad. I have an opportunity, So that one thing led to the next, and then I just decided that that's maybe children are my children are my costumes, you know, And is that okay? And it really is okay, but I had it took me a while to tell myself that it was okay, you know, because we grow up as young girls wanting to be married and have a family and do all that stuff. And I was a part of a new generation of career minded women who didn't feel it was necessary. So those are the sacrifices I'm talking about, Like, you know, friends, even like being bi coastal for fifteen years. You know, I'd come out to LA and they were like, oh, yeah, we thought you were in New York. And I'd be in New York and they'd say, oh, yeah, we thought you were in LA. You know. So I actually focused on costume dooms for thirty five years and didn't have much focus anywhere else. And I've learned to redirect some of that and give some things back to myself, and I do yoga now, and I breathe and I exercise, and I think about health a whole lot more. But then I wasn't horrible, but I wasn't great. I was just overly focused on costumes all the time. And it gave me joy.

And it gave us this book, and it gave us this.

Book and gave me this career.

I suppose selfishly, I'm grateful for all the focus and the sacrifices you made. Thank you, I think showing us who we've been in the past, the present, definitely in the future, and I thank you for that time and again.

This has been fantastic, and thank you for doing so much research on me, and you know, up a lot of things I hadn't thought about in a while. So I'm really appreciative of this conversation anytime, Ruth E. Carter a pleasure. Thank you, boy. That was the best interview I've ever had.

Hey, good wow.

And that's our show. If you enjoyed this episode, be sure to leave us five stars on Spotify, Apple, wherever you do your listening. I want to give a special thanks this week to the Academy Library, Chris Simmons, Diane Levinson, Marilyn Lintel, and our guests today Ruth E. Carter to order her new book, The Art of Ruth E. Carter, Costuming Black History in the Afro Future. Follow the link in our show notes at talk easypod dot com for more conversations like this one. I'd recommend our talks with Tessa Thompson, Kywee Kwan, Tom Hanks, Nikki Giovanni, Kehinde Wiley, and Toyene og Odatolla to hear those and more. Pushkin Podcasts listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you like to listen. You can also follow us on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram at talk easy pod. If you want to purchase one of our mugs at Come and Cream or Navy, you can find those at talk easypond dot com slash shop. That's talk easypond dot com slash shop. As always, this program would not be possible without our incredible team, especially this week working overtime. Talk Easy is produced by Caroline Reebok. Our executive producer is Jenni sa Bravo. Our associate producer is Caitlin Dryden. Our research and production assistant is Paulina Suarez. Today's talk was edited by Lindsay Ellis, with assistants from c J. Mitchell and mixed by Andrew Vastell. Our assistant editor is Clarice Gavara. Our music is by Dylan Peck. Our illustrations are by Christia Schanoy. Photographs today are by Julius Chu, Video and graphics by Ian Chang, Derek Gaberzak, Ian Jones and Ethan Seneca. I'd also like to thank our team at Pushkin Industries, Justin Richmond, Julie Barton, John Shnar's, Kerrie Brody, David Glover, Heather Fane, Eric Sandler, me Milan, Isabella Navares, Curra Posy, Tara Machado, Maya Canning, Jason Gambreel, Justin lang Leto, Milan, Malcolm Gladwell and Jacob Weisberg. I'm San Fragoso. Thank you for listening to Talk Easy. I'll see you back here next Sunday with a new episode. Until then, stay safe and so on.

Talk Easy with Sam Fragoso

Talk Easy with Sam Fragoso is a weekly series of intimate conversations with artists, activists, and 
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