The Emancipation of Robert Hartwell's Berkshire Home
All photos by Devon Warren

The Emancipation of Robert Hartwell's Berkshire Home

Located in Great Barrington, Mass, this plantation-style home's bad energy have been exorcised. It's replacement: an abundance of love to complement its warm aesthetic

Robert Hartwell just made a controversial call. Seated in his favorite room in his newly renovated home in Great Barrington, Mass., the dance professional has given the thumbs up to wearing Jordan 3s on his gorgeous wide-plank wood floors. With beautiful wood stains that looks three-dimensional, one can understand why company would be forbidden to walk with shoes here. But it’s a necessary sacrifice for today's video interview. And Robert will most times choose function over beauty.

His plantation-style home was built in the 1800s and he essentially discovered it in the garbage. Shaken over the death of his Aunt Paulette during the pandemic, Robert was urged by his stepmother, Eileen, to clear his head by going on a walk in the park outside his New York City home. Robert, who is the founder and artistic director of dance studio, Broadway Collective, picked up an issue of House Beautiful magazine that was laying in his recycling and found a place to settle on his walk. It was then that he saw the home, a place that he describes as "shabby, chic." He snapped a photo and sent it to a friend via text saying he had every intention of purchasing this beautiful shell with majestic columns and hand-crafted windows.

Robert drove to make an offer to the realtor who informed him that the owner was only looking for cash offers. The realtor assumed this took Robert off the table but he was more than capable of fulfilling the cash-only request. Purchasing the home on Juneteenth, he snapped a photo of his sanctuary and sent it out on his social media with a caption that gave a beautiful nod to the Black servants who worked on this property (There were service stairs in the home that Robert removed as soon as renovations began.). His caption stated that he was going to fill the home with love and he wished the servants who occupied the home knew that the property would one day be owned by a gay Black man. With the deaths of Goerge Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery weighing heavy on Americans collectively, the post went viral.

Resulting in a 6-episode renovation show on HBO Max, Breaking New Ground, the home boasts boldly-colored rooms that hold the spirit of Robert's family. There is Paulett's Parlor, a sitting room in honor of his aunt. His father's love of reading is the inspiration for his study that includes works from August Wilson. His dear mother has her own room with a private bathroom.

Robert and I sat down on a rainy Monday afternoon to talk about the history of his historic home but more importantly we explored the space that he himself is in.


LEVEL: We spoke to playwright Jeremy O’Harris in 2019 about growing up in the South and he explained how difficult that was for a young black gay boy. What was your experience?

ROBERT HARTWELL: I feel blessed by my southern experience because both of my parents are from New York. So although I was raised in the church, my parents both had a Northern sensibility. It wasn't about the fear of being myself in my home, but more so the misunderstanding and the confusion by other people in the community. It was small-mindedness outside of home, but on the inside, to me, where it really matters, it felt safe. And although they didn't quite understand, I didn't feel in danger of being myself like I would outside because people in the South, it's just different. And I think that that is a danger of the church is when we don't create inclusive environments that are steeped in curiosity and deep in love versus rules and regimen. So I'm grateful for the safety that I felt in my home.

Do you remember the first time you absolutely knew that you wanted to be a dancer?

I was seven years old and my mom was the Tiger Cubs den leader of our Boy Scout program. The Tiger Cubs are the first-graders. So you're six, seven years old, and each parent has to organize an activity for a weekend. I think they had a fishbowl and you just pull [a card] out. And what my mom pulled out was an artistic event. At this point, I had no interest in singing, dancing, or acting. I didn't even really know what those things were. But my mom went into the local paper and saw that there was an upcoming free performance at the Raleigh Little Theatre.

And so my mom organized all 15 of us Tiger Cubs — all 15 boys, and their moms and dads — and we all went to the theatre on this Saturday afternoon. That moment changed the rest of my life because I saw for the first time what I would spend the rest of my life loving, what I would spend the rest of my life obsessing over. And I'm emotional just thinking about it right now because it's like my mom pulled that out of a hat.

LEVEL: There’s a moment in the HBO show when you reconnect with your first dance teacher, and you two end up performing one of the first routines you learned. What was that like?

That stage was the stage where I did one of my first public performances ever. And so to be there with her, a white woman who in the '90s saw a Black gay boy, the only Black gay boy in the class, the only Black person in the class, and to hold space and to provide a scholarship and to provide love, that was not common. For her to do that for me and to do that through my entire life, that didn't stop when I was 10. That stayed through my 20s, and even now in my 30s, she's still there. 

How were you parented as a child? Was there a disciplinarian? Was there one parent that was a little bit more lax? I couldn't tell who played what role.

My dad is not a disciplinarian. He is a softy. His bark is so much louder than his bite. He, like his dad, is a very tender man, which I think being a Black man going to college in the '70s and being an athlete on a scholarship, you have to be this symbol of what masculinity is. But that's not who he is. At the core of him is a very gentle person. 

My brother, my sister, and I...none of us were troublemakers. We didn't require a lot of discipline because my brother and I were with my mom during the school year. My mom had us for nine months, and my dad had us for three months. And when you see a Black woman doing the role of two people for nine months, you want to do the right thing. It's hard to make their job any harder. They're already doing so much for you. My brother and I were very aware of that.

My mom and dad let us be ourselves. And that really helped us be in a natural rhythm. My mom was never, "It's 8pm, lights out, go to bed." She's like, "You know what time you have to be up for school in the morning." I loved watching late night television as a kid. I was obsessed with David Letterman so my mom let me have a TV in my room so that it didn't disturb her in the living room because her room was closest to the living room. She [would say] "okay, great. That is your thing. You love it. I'm not going to put a fight up over David Letterman. As long as you wake up for school and you get the things that you need to get done, done, that's your sleep." There was a big amount of trust in our home growing up.

I pointed out that you only have one television in the home yesterday. That feels very intentional and ironic given your early love of television.

I wasn't a fan of television, I was a fan of the conversations. I love this idea of sitting beside basically a stranger [to get their story]. That is what I was obsessed with. Again, story, right? So as a kid, I didn't really watch other TV shows. For me, it was [David Letterman] or the news. I loved the news simply because I thought it was so fascinating that they could turn on a dime. They could literally say, someone has been shot and murdered [one minute]. Then we are so excited that we are doing a toy drive.

Also, there was a news anchor in Raleigh, North Carolina named Pam Salisbury, and she was one of the only Black female news anchors. I loved the pageantry that Ms. Salisbury showed up to the newscast with every night. She always had beautiful colors on and gorgeous gold earrings, and her hair was always done. I love a beautiful put together church lady. Give me a woman in a two-piece suit and gold hoops.

Bonnet or no bonnet [laughs].

No bonnet. This was prime creamy crack era, like the press. You know what I'm talking about. 

While we’re on the topic of story, the study is dedicated to your dad. He’s a voracious reader. What was the first book that he introduced you to?

It was a picture book on Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. I was amazed at the strength and  power of Black women. I was probably eight or nine years old with this book, and those pictures stayed with me. One of the most memorable collections of books that I was gifted by my dad and stepmom was August Wilson's collection of plays. To have Mr. Wilson give us that, everything that he did for all of those decades and to chronicle the Black experience in that way, we are forever grateful to him.

Paulette’s Parlor, the room that we are seated in, means a lot to you. Tell me about Aunt Paulette.

Aunt Paulette was just the most beautiful soul. She loved the Lord, she loved our family, and she believed that service was the best thing that you could do. Like, if she had a shirt, you were going to have it. She would be naked in the street before you were cold. She would be hungry before you weren't fed. And it's really also service that was a part of her transition out of this world because she was going to the sick and shut-in during COVID delivering meals to people and checking in on the elderly. That was her heart, that was her passion. And she knew that if she didn't do it, nobody else was going to do it. 

That is one of the greatest losses I've experienced in my life because when she went into the hospital, we know Black women were not being checked on and cared for and being shown the level of care that other people were experiencing in the hospital system. And so I have to always remember that she was doing what she was called to this earth to do. Her last name was Battle. And so she was always on the battlefield for the person that was in need. 

Paulette was very big on the power of positive words, right? For instance, instead of saying, "If," say, "When." 

Yeah, I got to catch that word and just throw it out of Paulette's Parlor. We don't even speak that word in here [laughs]. At the end of 2019 I was reading a book called The Power of Favor. It talks about the power of our words. And it's something that my pastor is so big on, which is what comes out of your mouth will be. We are powerful manifesters. It's one thing to think a thought, but to then actually say it, you are giving birth to your future by what you speak.

And so I think that was just something that I witnessed, and especially from Aunt Paulette. One of her favorite words was awesome. She would look at that lily and say, "Oh, Rob, that is an awesome lily," or, "Oh my god, Rob, what an awesome chandelier." And so when she transitioned, I had a necklace made, because she would always say, "Rob, that is awesome." The necklace says, "Awesome, Rob." It's this reminder to always see the awesome because there is opportunity even in the hardest things like death.

Gail King told you that this was much more than a renovation show and there was a spiritual connection between you and the home. Let’s dig into that.

This home is one of my greatest teachers. I believe I have learned more about God and life from coming to this home for the first time, to renovating this home, to choosing to turn it into a show that we share with the world. And I think one of the biggest lessons it teaches me is that goodness will always follow you if you let it. And honestly, sitting in that chair that day and having the undisputed queen of journalism, Ms. Gail King, say to you, "I started to watch one episode and then I couldn't stop and I watched all six," that was this moment that truly...at that moment we had only our second episode come out. And to have her see me and to see our show, I was like, "I feel so alive and grateful."

Do you remember your first Broadway audition?

I was a senior in college at the University of Michigan. This is when we still had computer labs, because everyone didn't have laptops. And so I'm in the computer lab. And I saw on Playbill.com, which was the theater's New York Times at the time, and it said a revival of Dreamgirls was going to be at the Apollo Theater. And so I printed it off and put it on my vision board, and I was like, "That is going to be my first show."

I flew from Detroit to New York the morning of the audition. And as I'm getting on the plane, they said, "We're out of overbin space. We're going to have to put your bag underneath." So I'm like, "Please, I have an audition." It's like 6:00 in the morning. I'm like, "I have an audition in New York City at 10:00 AM. Please don't take my stuff." They say, "Sir, it will be in LaGuardia when you get there." Of course, I get to LaGuardia and my bag is still in Detroit. They never put it on the plane.

And so I get to this audition and I just have what I wore. I didn't have my music, I didn't have my headshot, I didn't have anything, because I just had that one bag, because I was just going in for the day. I actually had to come back to school that night because I had rehearsal for my senior musical. And so I remember getting to the audition and I stopped at an H&M on the corner. I just got some random sweatpants and a T-shirt. I called my stepmom, Eileen, and I'm just crying. I'm like, "This is awful. What am I supposed to do?" And she's like, "You do your best. You go in there. You don't need those fancy dance shoes or those fancy dance clothes. They want you."

I went in there and the casting director, Nicole Valens, could definitely tell that I had been crying. And I was late by this point as well. And she said, "Just keep going." They had already started learning the dance combination. And for me, when I was auditioning for Broadway, that was always my greatest fear. I'm an incredible performer; I am not a very fast learner. I don't like learning on the spot. It makes me extremely nervous. But I'm like, "Just keep your head in the game. Let's go."

They started splitting us up into groups. When you're in a dance call, they split you up to go a couple of people at a time and then start making cuts. I said to myself, "When I get through this first cut, I will know it's mine. I just need to get through this first cut." And that first cut when they called my name, Robert Hartwell, I was like, "I'm going to be in Dreamgirls." It took seven more auditions over the course of many months. And at one point I was told I didn't get it, but then I did get it. That was a moment that I'll never forget, because on paper it was all a mess: no dance shoes, no music, no headshot, no resume, late, all of the things that I would never, ever be. And yet, when it is for you, it will not pass you by. It's just a universal truth. 

."..if a student is saying to me, "I want a career on Broadway," I know the skill set of singing, dancing, and acting and kindness that are going to be required for that thing to happen."

You said you imagined a different way of teaching children and what you were envisioning would not allow you to be both a Broadway performer and a teacher simultaneously. What was this new way of teaching children?

When I was growing up training for Broadway, it was about excellence in the classroom. I mean, you just wanted to show up and you had a deep respect for your teachers. The majority of my teachers growing up had all achieved Broadway careers or had careers in LA. They had the most fantastic and fabulous stories about their time on the stage or their time on the screen. And back then before we had these screens and the immediacy of content, you wanted to make your teacher proud.

I moved to New York City, started Dreamgirls, and very shortly thereafter being on the Dreamgirls tour, I was working for other educational organizations doing one-off master classes across the country or when I was in New York City. I saw a lack of focus. I saw a lack of drive. I saw a lack of stamina for what was going to be required to do the thing. And if a student is saying to me, "I want a career on Broadway," I know the skill set of singing, dancing, and acting and kindness that are going to be required for that thing to happen; and not just that, the academic portion to get into one of these top 10 colleges that are going to help you have this network that when you move to the city, you already have connections to casting directors and directors and choreographers.

When I continued to teach, I started to realize I was getting a lot of feedback from the students and the parents and the organizers of these other companies like, "Robert's class is no joke." And my class was no joke because I don't believe that time is a joke. I believe that education is a gift. And as a person who spent the majority of my time as a student on scholarship, from the time I was seven years old in Kirsty's class to the time I graduated from the University of Michigan, I really respect time in someone's classroom. And my dad is a coach. I watch how he takes these players that are so-so at the beginning of a season, and then they end up winning the state championship at the end of the year. But they win it because there's a framework that he teaches them, a framework of how to warm up your body, a framework of how to allow your schoolwork and your work as an athlete to work together, a framework of how to network with these scouts that are coming to your games.

I started to realize this is a missing link in musical theater education. I really wanted to bridge that gap for young people and their parents to have a curriculum. I didn't want to babysit kids. Also, real talk, I know I have so much to give and a network of teachers that also want to give. They don't want their time wasted. If you want to just play, that's amazing. There are other organizations and other places for that. But if you really want to do the thing, come and train and work with us because we are, yes, going to always meet you with kindness and love, but there's going to be an expectation that you stay the course.

And so for me, it was all about building a framework and also really building metrics to be able to see when our students were succeeding and when they needed more support. When I think of training the next generation of Broadway in a different way, it's that and it's accountability, and it's asking a person to continue to push after it feels uncomfortable. That's where the growth happens. We live in an age where I'm so glad we are more inclusive in our language and we are protective of young people in the ways that in many ways it wasn't when we were growing up, but also, we are going to have a standard and we are going to meet and exceed it. That's how we get results. And that's why I'm a teacher.

You bought this home in the pandemic. At the time the country was healing not only from the killing of George Floyd but the murders of Breanna Taylor and Ahmaud Aubrey as well. How were you during this time?

It was a very focused time in the sense that when I am in pain—and this was pre-therapy Robert—my way of processing hurt was to over function. And so the world is melting and I'm like, "Well, the word that I got for this year was we're going to have an unprecedented year." So how do I do that? What do I know to do really well? Over-effort, work. And so I just lived at my computer. And I also believed that yes, that is a part of it, but also I had these 1,000 students in my online community that needed me. Who else was going to do it, right?

And so really what got me through those days were my students, my parents who continued to pay for their young people's education at a time where everyone was like, "All right, all things are off the table." And they continued to believe in our program and our teachers and believe in their kids. And so really that year was all work. And I'm grateful for it. But what happened is when the world came back on and many people had been resting and processing and grieving, and then they were going back to work refreshed and ready to begin, I was on E.

What do you think of when I mention W.E.B. Debois, who is from this town?

I think of his mother. The fact that she lived here in Great Barrington, the fact that he was born right down the street. The fact that in his autobiography he talks about playing on the stream on my property line.This home was owned by the Russell family, she worked in the Russell family home. And he even actually talks in his book about the Russell family helping pay for his education, his books his senior year.

I also feel like his drive and that against all odd energy that, "I may be the only one in this classroom that looks like me." I feel connected to him in that way because in our public library here, there are all of these beautiful black and white photos of him in his middle and high school classes. And they look like my yearbook pictures growing up, being the only. But to know that, oh wow, it's because of that man that we get a co-founder in the NAACP.

It's because of that black man that we have so many of the rights that we have today because he chose to live his truth and also be, if you want to label it, controversial and say like, "No, this is what I believe and this is why I believe it. And I'm going to put it down on pen and paper." And you're going to go back and read it 50, 70, 90 years later and still say, "Wow, he's right. And also, we're still fighting about these same things." 

The Underground Railroad runs through your backyard. How does that make you feel?

Free. It also makes me feel  responsible for my future. Like, you've been given so much. You have so much ahead of you, do good with this time. And I also feel protected.

Tell me more about feeling protected.

Massachusetts is a very interesting state being one of the first states that abolished slavery at the state level, but not yet at the federal level. So you get this very interesting slave versus servant... It's just a very gray space. But there are so many Black people in this community who were born enslaved, who literally at that courthouse right down the street, petitioned and fought for their freedom. And so I feel a deep sense of their fight, and because of the way that they had to fight and at the time that they had to fight, I just feel like I now go into fixed fights. I'm like, "Oh, those are the shoulders I stand on? You don't want none of this."