BY DESIGN: ZOE SALDAÑA

Zoe Saldaña and Alicia Keys built their creative careers on a central belief: that curiosity, passion, and life’s little detours are the pathways toward a full life.

By Libby Hsieh

Success in show business usually requires tunnel vision, but Zoe Saldaña looks at the full picture. She knows the importance of walking through open doors, no matter what waits on the other side. In high school, what began as a quick errand to pick up a pair of Capezios for a dance recital ended in a spur-of-the-moment audition for a community production of The Wiz. The part of the Scarecrow wasn’t in her cards, but she joined the ensemble, and the experience confirmed that curiosity doesn’t kill the cat—it rewards it. It’s this malleability and acumen that define much of Zoe’s career today. In 2009, she landed her breakthrough role as Nyota Uhura in J.J. Abrams’s Star Trek series. Her early training as a dancer paid off, as she dodged laser beams in high-stakes melees. She quickly became accustomed to interstellar combat and the CGI landscape, catapulting through science fiction as the lethal Gamora in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and as Na’vi princess Neytiri in James Cameron’s Avatar. These days, Zoe is preparing for the release of the franchise’s third installment, Avatar: Fire and Ash.

In addition to these highly physical intergalactic roles, Zoe sinks her teeth into more grounded projects. In 2024, she carried home an armful of awards for her supporting role as Rita Mora Castro in the Best Picture-winning Emilia Pérez. Past the camera’s lens, she’s also an advocate for underrepresented artistic voices through her company BESE, whose initiatives amplify the voices of emerging Latinx creatives.

That same kind of open-mindedness led Alicia Keys to discover the joy of singing and playing piano. As a preteen growing up in Hell’s Kitchen, she entered a Miss New York pageant, motivated not by the spotlight but by the promise of one reward: a pool party—a rare opportunity for city residents. With floaties and sunshine in her mind’s eye, Alicia found herself at the beginning of a promising career—one that would result in millions of records sold, Grammy Awards in the double digits, a spot on the New York Times
Best Seller list, numerous film roles, and successful global initiatives for women in music.

Both Zoe and Alicia balance their insatiable industries with a feeling of rootedness, never shying away from expressions of gratitude. It’s this sense of playfulness and exploration that assuages the stress of being a public figure. Their willingness to fail has proved a driving force—pushing the women outward into uncharted creative territory. It’s easy to separate Zoe and Alicia from high-gloss PR images. Their words feel lived-in, spoken straight from the gut.

As the two trade origin stories and gush over what they might do next, there’s the feeling that, even if they didn’t achieve their gigantic careers, they’d still nurture a kind of wonder. For Beyond Noise, Zoe and Alicia discuss the serendipity from which art often grows, the critical role of curiosity, and the importance of showing up.

LIBBY HSIEH: I’d love to start with your collaboration on “Show Me Love.” How did you come to that?

ALICIA KEYS: We definitely met before the “Show Me Love” video, but I would say that was the moment that we connected.

ZOE SALDAÑA: You know each other in the industry. We see each other at events. But it only becomes personal when we consciously say, ‘Let’s get together,’ or ‘Let’s do something creative.’ And you did that: You reached out.

AK: I literally have chills right now thinking back to that moment. The best things happen when there’s a personal relationship, especially artist-to-artist. I enjoyed reaching out, because that feeling of nervousness does exist. You feel like, Wait a minute, I’m infringing on this whole person’s life. I don’t know if they’re busy, if they’re going to be comfortable. I’ve found when I’ve pushed past that and actually given it a shot, it has created some of the most special moments.

I remember the moment we got together in real life. We were on a couch and it was you and Marco [Perego-Saldaña], and me and Swizz [Beatz]... There was this vision for the song “Show Me Love,” exploring the different ways love expresses itself. We had the idea that it was all in slow motion, and wanted to evoke this passion and emotion. “Show Me Love” is one of my favorite videos I have ever done. It was all one take.

ZS: Movements were ten seconds or less. My husband—Marco, actually, because he wasn’t my husband at the time—he was a creative in that moment. That was cathartic for us; it was one of the first times that we worked together on something, and I’m so happy that we did it. Eventually he directed me in a movie, then he went off and wrote another short that we premiered last year at the Venice Biennale. But working together on that music video was extremely challenging, because it was the first time I realized his approach to working, and he [realized mine]. We’ve figured out so many ways of how to be together. We work together at life. We work together with our family. Now, we work together in art. [Laughs] He was like, ‘I don’t like the way you’re talking to me when we’re rehearsing...’ I would tell
him, ‘I keep telling you to pick me up!’ Like, You don’t want me to make an excuse. I don’t want you to make an excuse. That’s why we practice. So can you please remember what we fucking just did?

AK: [Laughs] Wow, I remember that now. To see how you guys started to be more comfortable and open to working together—that was really cool.

ZS: You manifested that for us. It gave us a hands-on experience that immediately put this wish into action. We’ve gone through all these steps, we actually enjoy the process, and it only keeps getting better. It’s funny, there’s a saying that if you know how to dance with your partner, you can do anything.

AK: I love that. It’s a testament to what we wanted to capture in “Show Me Love.” It’s the push and the pull—the way that there’s love even when there’s struggle. There has to be growth. I think there’s this idea sometimes that everything is supposed to be so easy, and if it’s not easy, it’s wrong.

ZS: What an entitled approach to love! Love is supposed to just be there. We invest so much of our time, money, and effort in our physical health, in our appearances, in material [things]. Why not spend time with love? It’s only when you put love through the test that you discover it really is the answer to so many things. Your song is so on point that love is this juxtaposition, these emotions that are always trying to find a middle ground—that yin to the yang.

AK: Thank you for being part of that moment.

How did you find yourself expressing your art? How did you know that this medium was something that spoke to you, so that you had the courage to
attempt to create within it?

ZS: For as long as I’ve had use of reason, I’ve felt deeply about things. I’ve felt curious about specific things. It always had to do with behavior, relationships, events, people, the environment. I would obsess. I would stare at people. I would study people, and then I would imitate people. Thank god for the family that celebrates their children—[where] everybody gathers and allows the children to be the center of attention for a safe moment. We had an interesting balance in my family, where my mom would be like, ‘Show me your tricks.’ At times it was competitive, because I’m one of three girls—one was singing, the other was doing cartwheels, and the other one was trying to do a split. I got used to feeling confident about holding and commanding attention, and also entertaining the people that I loved. By the time I was going through puberty and overreacting over everything, my family started gaslighting me, going, ‘You’re so dramatic, you should be an actor!’ [Laughs] And then one day, you just go, Maybe I should try this.

AK: I love that. When was the first moment that you actually [started
acting]?

ZS: It wasn’t until I was around Columbus Circle in New York; my sister came into the city with me because I needed to go to the Capezio store to buy slippers for a recital. I was 17. We passed by this little theater group in the basement of this church. They had this ad: New York Youth Theater, holding auditions for The Wiz. And I saw the date. I look at my sister. Obviously, we were given instructions to take the train, go into the city, buy the shit, get back on the train, and go home, right?

AK: That was the plan.

ZS: We were very by the book. So I told my sister, ‘Please, please, please, let me audition for this.’ She was like, ‘Zoe, this can’t go anywhere. You’re dancing after school every day. You take two trains and two buses to get to your academy—just have fun.’ I’m curious, so we went in and I auditioned. I felt so good. They were so nice. I gave them the number to our house and they called me back.

Now we really had to tell Mom. I remember I was horrible in the callback. I auditioned for the Scarecrow. My mom later shared with me that, as I was auditioning, she remembers looking at my sister going, ‘Oh, she sucks. I gotta tell her she did great.’

AK: [Laughs] ‘Great job!’—that’s all you gotta do.

ZS: I didn’t get the part, but I did get the cast ensemble. Different dance parts and singing, because they liked my voice. I couldn’t accept the job because I had a scholarship to dance ballet, but I did another production for that company a year later. There was a manager, they signed me, and then I started going out on auditions and stuff.

AK: Isn’t that wild, how you’re led to where you belong? You don’t even realize it until you can look back on it.

ZS: I don’t like the word hustle; it has such a connotation. But you have to be determined and persistent. To be an artist means that you’re going to get rejected a lot more than you are accepted.

AK: It’s hard to be under scrutiny, where someone’s deciding if you’re good enough, if you fit the part. It makes sense—obviously, the person also has a vision they’re trying to fulfill. [You shouldn’t] take it personally, but it is difficult to put yourself out there.

ZS: To be a musician... I do believe that you’re born to do it. But my god, the level of courage. It’s a level of strength that I never would have had. I wouldn’t have lasted. I’m always wondering, what was it like for you when you started?

AK: Man, I think it comes down to what we just said—when you are led to where you are meant to go, you don’t realize it. I had this wild, awesome, amazing, beautiful kindergarten teacher who had all of these dreams and ideals for the little ones. [She had a desire] to create something—which happened to be The Wizard of Oz. Yours was The Wiz, mine was The Wizard of Oz. It was the first time that I learned to sing a song. I was scared. But I remember feeling, ultimately, Whoa, that feels good. It was the discovery that [when] something feels good, it doesn’t mean you’re not still afraid. Every piano recital I ever did, I was shaking. By the time I’d sit down, I was already in my head: This isn’t going to work. All these people, they’re looking at me. This piece is 30 pages long. Yet I practiced and practiced. That desire to figure it out—it’s always challenging, but it leads you somewhere.

Had I not studied classical piano, or [been pushed] to try to sing, I would have never found a way to put them together. I’ll never forget the first time. The reason I [tried] was because I wanted to go to a pool party. Somehow, they’d sent me an advertisement in the mail. It was for Miss New York. I wanted to try out for this pageant because I wanted to go to the pool party—like, Ooh, a pool party would be fire!

ZS: So that was the prize...? Like, if you won, you were gonna go to this pool party?

AK: It was part of the event.

ZS: I’m dying. It’s amazing, when you’re young, these are the priorities.

AK: [Laughs] These are the things that matter! I remembered listening to this New Kids On The Block song, “This One’s for the Children.” I was 12, something like that. I put the song together, went to the thing, went to the pool party, and then I did the singing and the playing. And I won Miss New York! [Laughs]

ZS: At 12 years old! You were like, I can do this.

AK: And that pool party was the reason. I didn’t think about winning. I didn’t care about that. It led me to do what I would do for the rest of my life: communicate through an instrument and a voice. I was also starting to write songs. How would it sound? What would I say? Just living in New York and taking in all the things. You don’t know what’s going to be the thing that opens you up—brings a new experience, a new group of people, a new opportunity into your life. I think your point of curiosity is the key, more so than fearlessness. If I were to ask, ‘What would be the thing that keeps me going?’ It would be that spark—that feeling that you can’t ever put your finger on. You don’t even know when it’s coming.

ZS: This is what it means to be alive. I think that my next step is to be more of a creative, versus part of someone else’s creation. Which I know that you, as an artist, can understand. What am I waiting for? Why not now?

AK: I love that. We live in a world where everything is so scrutinized. But the thing that lights you up, that takes you out of your comfort zone, is more important than whatever anyone has to say about it. More important is the fact that you gave it a shot, you’re revved up inside, and you are going to practice and learn this thing.

ZS: So important. To have to create in the same way that you have to breathe, eat, sleep. This meticulous observation and constant critique is such an abuse of power. Why do I give my power away? I am a byproduct of an environment that has always sought to capitalize on me, on someone. It’s like, Great, [you released] an album, but...

AK: —how many were sold?

ZS You’re an actor: What was your latest box office hit? Okay, you’re an influencer: How many followers, how many likes? Why do we put so much of our attention on the capitalization of our efforts, when in reality, just the fact that you woke up and you were bold enough to try something different merits appreciation?

AK: That’s a powerful thing. I would love for us as a society to be less judgmental, less close-minded, less hurrying to pull people down. So back to creating, and being the architect of your creativity. What do you think that requires as a practice? You say you never gave yourself the space to say, ‘What do I want to bring forth?’ I can’t imagine that with you, because I see you bringing forth so much of your spirit and your energy. But I know that it’s different, because I have done a few films. The film world requires a large body of beings coming together, to collectively emote this thing. Everyone’s gathered behind this project, believes in it, and brings their best to it—which is so beautiful. In music, a lot of times, it’s much more singular. Ultimately, it’s you plus two or three, organizing the thing and bringing it to life. In film, you might have five or six amazing folks that you’re interfacing with all the time, not to mention the 95 you’re connecting with energetically from behind the camera. I can understand how you feel a part of a whole.

ZS: Community is so important. It keeps me safe, keeps me going, and keeps me part of something bigger than myself. I would love to see if I have it in me to create a meaningful story that others will want to be a part of. Because I am a storyteller—I grow from stories. I am saved from within because of stories, and I want to continue telling them. This time, maybe I want to write a story.

I was picking your brain about it when we were together this summer, and you and Swizz elaborated on the [process of making an album]...

AK: Yeah, it takes time. First you have to figure out who you are in that moment. What do you want to say? What are you sharing? And then, step by step, you figure out how you want to share it—how it feels, how it sounds, what it looks like. I really enjoy that. When you take away all the outside elements, you can really fall in love with [the process].

ZS: When I think about legacy, I just want my kids to be healthy. I want my parents to live until they’re 150. I want my sisters to live until 350. [Laughs] I’m a very simple person. I want very simple things. Obviously, I want to continue making art. What about you?

AK: I think the thing to leave behind is empathy and kindness—the ability to create opportunities for your family and for people you know. For your family to understand how to cultivate that for themselves, and for people who connect with you to have an understanding of their value, of how special we all are. I think that’s [what] we do, every day, in small ways.

We didn’t talk about Avatar. Can I ask one question about Avatar? You’re painted head-to-toe and then placed into this unbelievable universe. Can you explain [some of the technology] behind that? How are we seeing what we’re seeing?

ZS: I’m excited that James Cameron is considering a documentary about the making of Avatar—finally giving us the chance to explain, in a meticulous way, why performance capture is the most empowering form of acting. It gives us the credit, the ability to own 100 percent of our performance on screen. With animation, you might go into the studio for [a few] sessions; that’s as much as they’ll need you for the whole movie. You go into a studio, however you’re dressed, and you lend your voice, right? Performance capture means that Avatar wouldn’t exist if Sigourney Weaver, Sam Worthington, Stephen Lang, Kate Winslet, myself, and the entire cast didn’t get up and put those dots on our faces. We put on that little unitard with all those dots on it, and step into a volume—that’s what we call the set—that’s rigged on the ceiling, with all these cameras in measured positions. They’re all pointing into this space that finds us, and feeds that information into the system that is Pandora.

It takes an average of seven years between [each Avatar film]. From the archery, the martial arts, the free diving, the scuba diving—so that you can hold your breath under water for longer than five minutes—to the language [James] conceived out of thin air, to physically training with former gymnasts, circus performers, and acrobats so you can learn how to walk like an extraterrestrial human species... That’s all us, and a group of incredible stunt actors that make our characters feel bionic. God bless them. With the technology that Jim creates, he gives the artist the power of complete ownership. It’s beautiful. I told him, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Terminator, Aliens and Ellen Ripley, The Abyss. At 10 or 11 years old, I would watch [the behind-the-scenes] over and over and over again. I liked the sacrifice that goes into putting something together. It’s art, right?

AK: Maybe we leave it on that last thing: daring to dream, to create, to go outside of the norm—to do it differently than anybody else. To study, to learn, to grow patience, because it takes time to create things that are timeless.

ZS: Damn Alicia, you’re on a roll, baby