Black Enterprise published an interview with him as part of their 100 Men of Distinction series, titling his entry “Meet Mr. Theater.” August Wilson was his favorite playwright, and The Piano Lesson was one of his favorite plays; he could go on and on about how the plausible conflict between Berniece and Boy Willie holds the play together like glue.
As a director with his roots in acting,he valued multidimensional characters with intricate backstories that led to articulable and playable objectives for actors. He created safe spaces for actors to explore and fail and work through the text. Armed with thoughtful questions, he facilitated revelatory table work well into the rehearsal process, because he wanted actors to know as much about their characters as possible before getting on their feet. While he could recite Shakespeare’s poetry to support a friendly debate over lunch, he gravitated toward realism that used theatre as a vehicle to explore current events and modern American history through the lived experiences of everyday people. In fact, the last play he directed was a student production of Pipeline by Dominique Morisseau. the thematic question on his poster read: “Can a mother’s love protect her son from a system designed to break him?” the perennial moral themes in his curated body of work gave us a glimpse into his character, the principles that shaped his life, and the continued empathy he had for others in and outside of his classroom.
For years, I sent him every new play. When I didn’t, he’d walk up to me at the end of a staged reading and ask, “Why didn’t you send me this? You send me everything!”
When I met him, he was playing the role of Walter Lee in a regional production of A Raisin in the Sun alongside a company of young actors. In rehearsals, Othell led warmups and coached his scene partners because he couldn’t escape his passion to teach. He had dedicated his life to the service of educating creatives.
When I started writing plays,my sister—also one of his former theatre students—invited him to a play I wrote and produced at our church. It was a thinly sketched family drama with a basic lighting plot that I switched on and off from behind a black sheet hanging from the ceiling in the wings of a makeshift stage. He said the play had potential, and that if I was serious about playwriting he would help me get into graduate school. after directing a handful of my staged readings, he introduced me to an artistic director and an Obie-winning playwright who also read my work and wrote me recommendation letters to Tisch, where I began my professional career as an MFA candidate in Dramatic Writing.
Othell’s altruism didn’t stop there. Shortly after quarantine, he directed my first regional production, Certain Aspects of Conflict in the Negro Familywhile teaching full time, coaching politicians on their speeches, publishing his first book of poems (The Tears of a Man), and silently wrestling with cancer. These good deeds are only droplets in the ocean of advocacy that was ever outpouring from the life and legacy of Othell J. Miller,a dyed-in-the-wool Renaissance man of the theatre who has taught well over a generation of theatre students the discipline of our beloved craft. Anyone who knew him would say he was adamantly committed to continuing the lifeline of contemporary American theatre, frequently enough by singlehandedly exposing and opening the minds of theatre students to the diversity of career opportunities in the field.His quiet mentorship has contributed to the careers of theatre workers we see on and behind our stages every season; the future of our industry depends on fresh talent like Othell’s students.
“Othell’s discipline was admirable,” noted playwright Nikkole Salter. “But it was his nurturing spirit and the way he modeled integrity that I will remember most. His alignment of thought, word, and deed was unshakable.”
It takes a mentally fit person to teach for as long and as effectively as he has. When asked to reflect on Othell’s work, director Marshall Jones III said, “he was truly a man of God who inspired generations of young artists. God bless his beloved wife and family.”
Well known for the severity of his commanding voice, outside the theatre Othell used coached public speakers, recorded voiceovers, and hosted events for friends. Recalled Grammy-winning musician Dr.Stefanie Minatee: “I remember when Othell walked into Plainfield High School to serve as its drama instructor.I was so happy to see a young, tall, educated Black man that would pour into the kids in Plainfield. We became friends instantly and shared many productions together. He also served as master of ceremonies for my retirement celebration.I will miss him immensely.”
To work in the theatre, someone has to see your efforts and speak highly about you when you are not in the room. While Othell is no longer physically in the room with us, we speak highly of him as he has done for others. He was a builder of emerging careers. A once-in-a-generation advocate. He did more than plant seeds in the minds of young dreamers; he watered and watched them grow. As we learn new ways to love Othell, may our grief evolve into gratitude and unite us like a fist that can punch forward and knock down the walls that would separate us.
His work was an invitation. He’d open his curtain speeches with gratitude, reminding audience members nightly that, “What we do is not complete without you.” He valued theatre’s singular ability to unite us. To many of us he was as close as kin. And to his blood relatives, thank you for sharing him. We’ve lost a real one, there’s no doubt whatsoever. Well done, O.
tylie Shider is an American playwright.