Lamin Leroy Gibba: The Pictures You See Are The Life You Lead

Substitute judgment with curiosity, and great things are bound to happen – Lamin Leroy Gibba is the creator of Black Fruit, the new series exploring Black and queer identities in front of the backdrop of today’s Germany. A writer, producer, and actor, Lamin represents a new generation of creatives fearlessly working through the concepts of race and sexuality in a world in turmoil. In conversation with Container Love, Lamin told us about the bigger picture behind Black Fruit, creative processes, and the way childhood aspirations can live on to become a compass for life.

What kinds of films and stories shaped you and your world as a kid? Did you see yourself reflected in them?

I watched all kinds of films and television shows as I was growing up. Lots of cartoons, but also live-action films from early on. I remember I saw Titanic when I was four, and really loved it. I ended up being quite obsessed with that movie for a while.

I don’t think I necessarily saw myself reflected in any of the stories or characters, but could relate to them, even if they looked very different from me. I think people who aren’t really represented in the media often become very good at relating to other people’s lives, because we had to train that muscle from a young age. Only once I got older, I realized that I’ve never really seen a character that looked and felt like myself on screen.

How did you arrive at acting? Was there a special moment that led you there?

I don’t remember a time in which I didn’t want to be an actor or in which performing wasn’t something I loved and wanted to do. I did my first play in kindergarten, and at nine, I started attending an acting school for children and teenagers. I remember, I really hoped that I could get an agent. I was quite an ambitious kid!

But then, getting an agent didn’t work out and I kept doing theater for the following ten years in various spaces. After graduating I decided to try to study acting in an English-speaking country because I just didn’t see any real possibility of me getting substantial roles in Germany. With a scholarship, I was able to attend the New School for Drama in New York City, where I trained for four years.

You said you want to tell truthful stories. What does truth mean to you in your work?

To me, telling truthful stories means showing what makes us human. Of course, there is a lot of beauty, connection, joy, and hope in the human condition but so are lots of mess, pain, misunderstandings, and complex emotions that one might feel ashamed to share. I want to engage with all of that in the stories I tell.

How do you know when an idea is good enough to develop?

If I’m excited about it. If I can’t wait to develop a story, create a character, or write a particular scene, it means that I should continue working on it. I can never tell how or even if others will respond to what I’ve made but I believe that when I truly love the story I’m telling and its characters, others will too. Of course, it’s impossible to win everyone over, but that also should never be the goal. So I think it’s mainly about trusting your taste, artistic approach, and vision.

Your show Black Fruit explores the topics of loss, and finding your true self. Can you tell us more about it?

The show’s main protagonists are Lalo and his childhood best friend, Karla. They both are Black, queer, now in their mid-twenties, but they lead very different lives from each other. Lalo is thrown off course by the sudden death of his father, drops out of college, and starts making many other abrupt choices that cause lots of challenges for him and the people around him. At the same time, Karla achieves her career goals in the finance world, but battles with growing exhaustion and loneliness. I would say Black Fruit explores the intricacies and struggles of growing up, figuring out who you want to be, and what the past might have to do with the present.

Why is it important to highlight narratives centered on Black and queer characters?

Because Black and queer characters deserve, and always have, to stand in the center of their own stories. Period. I believe that seeing yourself reflected on screen can be pivotal in understanding and contextualizing your own experiences. Stories can function like much needed mirrors, while they also have the power to create empathy for all kinds of experiences you haven’t lived through, but through the narrative and its characters, are able to relate and connect to. It’s so rare for us to get opportunities to tell our stories with the adequate resources, which speaks to societal systems that marginalize us and which must be dismantled by structural changes.

The series premiered in the ARD Mediathek. How was the experience leading up to this point?

It took about five years to turn the idea of Black Fruit into a show that’s now streaming. And there were so many steps along the way. In the beginning, there was a year of me working on it on my own, finding the characters, figuring out the story, and dialing in the tonality. Then I got together with the production company Jünglinge Film which also made the film No Hard Feelings, which I loved. Then we got our first funding in my home city Hamburg, and started a writers’ room with four other incredible writers before pitching the project to the broadcaster ARD. They understood the vision from the get-go, which led to us having a lot of creative freedom in the process during development. Then the team slowly came together and then, seemingly all of a sudden, this idea I once had was actually being shot and produced with an incredible team of filmmakers.

Can you describe Lalo, your character in Black Fruit? How similar is he to you?

Lalo wants many things but is often unsure about what he needs. He wants to live his life in a way that excites him, to feel like he’s on the right track. But there’s a certain aimlessness and an inability to process, let alone communicate all of those bottled-up emotions. Yet he still has a lot of love for the people around him.

Lalo is a fictional character, but I can relate to many aspects of him. And the things I find troubling about him, I try my best to understand them, in order to play him on screen. It’s really weird to talk about that, because where do the characters one creates come from? I guess they must all be an amalgamation of people you’ve known, questions and thoughts you have and your imagination. I always try to substitute judgment with curiosity while writing and acting. It’s really important to me, and one of the things at the core of a Black Fruit is to fully stand behind our characters, not judge them, and have an understanding and compassion for their actions and pasts.

You took on many roles realizing the show – writer, producer, actor. How do you manage all of those responsibilities?

It was such a great experience. It’s not the first time that I wrote, produced, and acted in the same project and those disciplines feel quite connected to me. But this first season of Black Fruit was for sure my biggest project to date and so far also the longest period that I’ve worked on something. Showrunning and being the lead of a series at the same time requires quite an unimaginable amount of work and you only truly get that once you’re deep inside of it. But I think that all the projects that I did before, and my past experiences prepared me for it. It was amazing to see my vision come alive in collaboration with so many incredible filmmakers and artists. I feel grateful for them, and this whole experience, and am excited to do it again soon.

What was it like to work with the directors Elisha Smith-Leverock and David Ụzọchukwu? What perspectives did they bring to the project?

I admire them and their work so much and it was great to collaborate with both of them. They brought different, unique personal and artistic perspectives to the project that deeply enriched the series. The fact that both of them have a background in photography in addition to their work as directors resulted in the very specific look of the show. The three of us spent a lot of time together and there were so many conversations, thoughts, and ideas that led to what the show is now.

What impact do you hope Black Fruit will have on the Black and queer communities?

I hope that many will feel very seen by the show’s story and its characters.

Lamin, we salute you. Congratulations on this beautiful and important show! Check out Schwarze Früchte / Black Fruit here.

Artist Lamin Leroy Gibba, Photography Marvin Mauli Kponvi