From Peter: York Walker is one of those human beings you meet and are perpetually astounded by their depth. We were in A Christmas Carol at Actors Theatre of Louisville in 2018 where York was playing a phenomenal Bob Crachit. Four weeks into the run, we were invited to a reading of York’s play Summer of ‘63. We all knew York was a writer; he had mentioned working on his play throughout rehearsal. But, y’all… We didn’t know York was a writer. That afternoon play reading remains one of the most joyful, surprising, emotional, and ephemeral experiences of my life.

Since late 2018, York has been on a meteoric ascension. In many ways, his success right now feels like a fulfillment of his destiny. His story is perfect, however, for The Obvious Path. Multiple cross country moves, giving up a “death grip on acting”, and finding the stories that matter most to him. He’s beyond multi-faceted, deserving of everything good coming in his life, and one of the most genuinely wonderful people in our business. Enjoy the wisdom, humor, and vision York Walker has given us.

We’ll give you the latest facts on York Walker. He’s an accomplished actor with an MFA from A.C.T. He’s performed at the Mark Taper Forum, California Shakespeare Theatre, Actors Theatre of Louisville, Two River Theatre and more. As a playwright, he was listed in Playbill.com’s Volume II of ‘Queer Black Playwrights to know and support’, and is currently a member of Lena Waithe’s Hillman Grad Mentorship Program. Those things have come together as York was recently named the Inaugural Recipient of the Colman Domingo Award, an award bestowed annually to a Black male or male-identifying multi-faceted theatre artist to provide support for the creation of new work. York, we’re humbled and thankful for your time with us. Is there anything you’d like to introduce to our readers about your background, your life outside of theatre, or your work? 

I think that it is important to state that I am a Beyoncé enthusiast. If you haven’t seen Black Is King yet on Disney + I highly suggest you watch immediately to receive your blessing.

With a B.A. in acting from Illinois State University, you began your career as an acting apprentice at Actors Theatre of Louisville. A year later, you went to get your MFA in Acting from the American Conservatory Theatre. Can you talk about the benefits or drawbacks of apprentice programs and elite MFA programs? How do you feel the time out in the “real world” before going back to school impacted your experience?

I would not be the artist I am today without the Actors Theatre Of Louisville Apprenticeship and ACT. The apprenticeship was an important step in my journey because it was one of the first moments when I realized that I could actually do this. I spent all of my time in college trying to prove to myself that I could be an actor. The apprenticeship was extremely competitive and to have the opportunity to work there helped me to realize that I could make my dream a reality. It also pushed me in ways I didn’t know I needed to be pushed. We had to create a short solo show and that was the first time I ever had to write my own script. It went really well and it planted the seeds that I could be a writer.

After Louisville, I moved to New York City. It was then that I realized I needed more training. I wasn’t auditioning much because I was trying to survive, but when I did audition it was rough. I felt like I didn’t have the skills I needed to succeed. So I decided to apply to grad school and ended up going to the American Conservatory Theatre.

ACT was great because it was three years dedicated to studying the craft. I didn’t have to worry about survival jobs or distractions. I could just focus on becoming a better actor. Since I had been out of undergrad for two years, I knew exactly what skills I needed to cultivate to be successful when I came back to New York. ACT gave me the tangible tools and experience on stage that I needed to take me to the next level. But most importantly, it gave me a network of other actors who became my best friends and collaborators. 

I read in a separate blog (which you can read here) that you started writing your first year of graduate school. What has that done for your path as an artist? What are the challenges or benefits of being a trained actor learning to write plays?

Writing has completely changed my life as an artist. I never thought I would be a writer. I was in the process of coming out in my first year of grad school. I was spending my days training to play other people honestly and truthfully while simultaneously denying my own truth. My first play Summer Of ’63 came out of needing to express all of that internal struggle. The best thing about writing as an actor is that you don’t have to wait for someone to give you an opportunity. Writing empowers you. You are in complete control of what happens on that page. There are stories that I want to see on stage and now I just write them myself. Being an actor has helped me immensely as a writer because I’ve spent a large portion of my life reading and interpreting other people’s words. As an actor, you can tell when the writing is good and when it’s not. You can tell when something doesn’t feel natural in your mouth or when the rhythm between characters is off. All of those skills are invaluable to me as a writer.

I remember a social media post you made about a year ago called “Lessons from the barber shop…” where you talked about how Black men can easily articulate how difficult it is to bear the weight of white oppression. In the midst of that, however, how quickly they can “drop an anvil of hate on their Black LGBTQ brothers and sisters.” So, in full, to be a Queer Black person is to rarely feel safe or comfortable in any space. How does your work provide hope or outlets for this lived experience?

Right before I went to Louisville, I saw Marcus, Or The Secret Of Sweet at Steppenwolf Theatre in Chicago. I was sort of just starting to come to terms with the fact that I was gay and that I wasn’t going to be able to ignore it for much longer. As I watched that show, I saw a character that was dealing with the same issue. Tarell Alvin McCraney created a beautiful piece that ended up being one of the first times I saw myself on stage. It was a powerful moment because not only did that play let me know that I wasn’t alone, it gave me hope that when it was all said and done I would be ok. And that has sort of become one of my missions as a writer. Part of the issue is that often times Black and Black Queer people are footnotes in someone else’s story or left out of the narrative completely. I want to not only put us back into the narrative, but place us at the center of the story. We exist and our stories are just as valid, beautiful, complicated, and nuanced as anyone else’s. My hope is to tell these stories in a variety of genres so that Black and Black Queer people can see themselves and the truth of their experience reflected back to them. 

As the global pandemic forces a pause for theatrical spaces to hear the voices of BIPOC artists, see the continually murder of Black people, and acknowledge our complicity in structures of white supremacy, what is your greatest dream for the future of theatre?

My hope is that white theatre institutions take this opportunity to truly take a step back to assess whether or not they are anti-racist institutions. It’s not enough to have a Black play in February. It is not enough to have one person of color as an intern. It is not enough to just do what is socially acceptable and make a statement on social media while waiting for this to pass. This is the time for the American theatre to meet the moment and have some hard conversations. When theatre comes back it should be so different we hardly recognize it. That is the level of change that is necessary. 

We’ve used the metaphor of a mountain to be analogous to our career accomplishments, dreams, and changes. We feel a lot of our reader’s “climb” is on pause. Has your mountain ever changed? Is it changing now? What’s keeping you moving?

I feel like my mountain just did a full 8 count of Beyoncé choreography haha. In 2017 I moved to Los Angeles because something in my spirit said I needed to be there. My manager at the time was based there, so in my head I thought I must be about to book my series regular role. LA was some of the hardest years of my life. I didn’t book anything, I struggled to make ends meet, and lost my manager and agents within ten days of each other. One day my best friend Kemi took me out to pizza and I couldn’t figure out why nothing was working for me. And she told me that I was ignoring all of the writing opportunities that had come my way because I had decided that I was supposed to make it as an actor. I didn’t realize that my identity was wrapped up in being an actor, but life was telling me to invest in writing. So I decided to move back to New York to focus on writing. As soon as I made that decision, things opened up for me. I got offered two writing jobs before I even got on the plane to come back to New York. In the last year I’ve received more writing work than ever before. Commissions, awards, and job opportunities have presented themselves to me in ways I would have never imagined. It is a complete 180 from where I was before and I believe it’s because I finally trusted life was telling me. I think that writing was probably my calling all along and I had too much of a death grip on acting to see it. And that’s not to say I’ll never act again, but right now I’m so excited about the characters and worlds I’m creating on the page. 

RAPID FIRE:

Favorite Broadway show: Fela!

First memory performing: Recreating Disney On Ice on roller skates in my basement.

TV favorites?: I May Destroy You, Watchmen, Ozark, Insecure

Podcasts you love: The Read, Death, Sex, and Money, 1619, Off Book, Screenwriter’s Rant Room

Religious, Spiritual, or nah?: Spiritual

NYC or LA?: Both! NYC for theatre and LA for film/tv writing

Most meaningful “no” that turned into something special: I applied to Juilliard’s Playwriting Program this year and didn’t get in, BUT if I had gotten it I wouldn’t be available for the projects I’m working on now.

Favorite memory in a theatre: Hearing an audience laugh at my writing for the first time.

In your shelter in place days… Out of pajamas before noon?: It is currently 12:34 PM and I am still in my pajamas. I’m at peace with this aspect of quarantine life.

Advice to your younger self: There is nothing wrong with you. You are and will be loved for exactly who you are.

Play you’re working on now: Covenant! It’s a period drama with horror elements based on the myth of Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil to attain his musical genius. 

Social media handles: Instagram/Twitter @issayorkchop

Anything you’d like to promote?: Covenant is getting workshop and public reading in October! I’ll post info on my social media once the dates are set. :)

Photo Credits:

1. Headshot

2. As You Like It playing Silivius at Chautauqua Theatre Company

3. One Night In Miami at the Denver Center For Performing Arts

4. Mae Whitman & York Walker in The Mystery of Love & Sex at Mark Taper Forum

Quick note from Peter: A quick google will tell you that Tor’s been nominated for a grammy and Lisa is a Broadway vet. Those accolades don’t do their personalities justice.

I was lucky enough to have my debut Off-Broadway singing tunes they wrote, listening to Tor play, and Lisa melt the room with her vocals. They’re special talents and even more special people. In the face of this crisis, their humor, insight, and genius remain the same. Enjoy.

What have you lost because of COVID-19?

Well, we wrote 5 television pilots and we were set to go out to Los Angeles to pitch them. Obviously, that’s not happening now. Additionally, our agent was abruptly laid off so we’re now scrambling to find a new agent so we can get the meetings. It’s different in theater, but for TV, you can’t get a meeting with an agent. On the bright side, we were offered a production on a play we wrote for next year. So that’s pretty amazing. With all the rejection, it’s extra special to feel like our work was worth the time.

What is something (a thought, a family member, a hope, a piece of art, a meme, a song, ANYTHING) that is getting you through?

We feel very grateful that we have a place in Brooklyn that allows our rather large blended family enough space to breathe. That gratitude is a great antidote to the constant anxiety. It’s also a preventative measure that assures our children’s safety…from us.

What do you think has an opportunity to change as a result of this time to reset?

We're hoping that people will be more kind after all of this and have a greater appreciation for what we have as opposed to what we don’t. Career-wise, we are hoping our particular brand of humor will be more accepted. On a side note, but still important, we hope TV shows will show less penis in the future.

Anything else you'd like our readers to know during this time?

We’re out there. We’re writers. We're available for hire. Our families think we’re talented. Tor’s mom, especially, thinks we’re amazing. But seriously folks…we’ll be here all week and the week after that…and so on…stay safe, everyone,. 

Quarantine Quickly:

Favorite snack: The banana bread our kids make…almost on a daily basis!

Home workout routine (you know, if you're into that): Lisa does literally every single workout you‘ve ever heard of. Tor is getting his ass kicked by Jillian Michaels, using Lisa’s account because he can’t afford it. 

What are you watching: Altered Carbon. We don’t understand what’s going on, but we’re somehow hooked. We do NOT appreciate the gratuitous penis shots though. What’s with everyone showing the penis these days?

What you are reading: The news mostly because we’re trying to stay away from the biased networks. We’re also reading our own work a lot so we can make it even ore awesome! We’re also reading books that we are thinking of adapting to either stage or screen.

Yes or no… Out of pajamas before noon?: NO! Wait. Do workout clothes count?

*Check out Tor and Lisa’s website here: https://www.torandlisa.com/

From Peter: My last project in graduate school was doing a small reading presentation of a scene from Airness by Chelsea Marcantel. It was the play EVERYONE was doing and had the theatre community buzzing. I remember walking up and down the halls reading this play in the halls where I had read so many plays. But none like this one. I found myself completely swept up in a world, while simultaneously baffled by who would know so much about this incredibly niche, and slightly odd, culture. What I did know: this playwright was different. And I thought she was a badass.

Almost a year to the day later, I found myself rehearsing the world premiere of Chelsea’s play, Tiny Houses, about the niche world of, you guessed it, the folks who live in tiny houses. Chelsea’s ability to tell the stories of niche interests, subcultures, or, as she calls it, small-group primates is unparalleled. She writes plays that are so hyper specific they tap into the universal truths. They are funny, the are thoughtful, and, maybe above all, they are uniquely human.

Beyond that, my suspicions were confirmed. She is, indeed, a badass. Her knowledge is infinite, her humor is contagious, and her heart is pure gold. She has talent, creativity, depth and a journey that’s already in our lore of “greatests”. We look up to her a lot and we’re thankful she donated her time, voice, humor, and wisdom to this little thing. They say never meet your heroes, so… Maybe they’re right. 

Never meet your heroes.*

*Unless one of your heroes is Chelsea Marcantel.

Her agent pitches her as “The Queen of subcultures”. We pitch her as our favorite playwright. Chelsea, introduce yourself! And I think I speak for all of us when I say “geaux” for it!  

I’m rolling my eyes REAL HARD at that “geaux” comment, Peter.  But I guess that’s as good a way as any to bring up the fact that I was born and raised in Louisiana.  I then moved to Chicago, Virginia, and New York, before ending up in Los Angeles (which I LOVE SO MUCH) in 2018.  Along the way I accumulated degrees from LSU and The Juilliard School, myriad awesome friends, a couple of great agents, and a super cool sound designer/composer named Miles, who I married in 2011.

Talk to us about the journey of a young playwright pre-Juilliard. You moved to Chicago for 6 years before teaching college in Virginia. What’s the hardest part of amassing work as an unknown playwright? Is that woman trying to get to Juilliard or did she have other plans?

I’m so glad that I moved to Chicago right after I went to grad school (the first time).  I think if I’d move to New York or Los Angeles right off the bat, I would’ve run home with my tail between my legs.  But the theatre scene in Chicago is so open, so welcoming – if you’re willing to go as hard as you can for no money, you can work all the time and make the best plays and friends anywhere.  When I lived in Chicago, people started doing my plays, almost from the beginning (mostly short plays in festivals, to start). It wasn’t until I’d been working constantly there for a handful of years that I realized that there wasn’t really a path forward for any of my plays – I didn’t have an agent, I wasn’t getting paid, nothing was getting published, nothing was getting a second production anywhere outside Chicago.  I also had to hold down a 9-5 job all the time, which made me feel like I was dedicating the dregs of my time and energy to this thing that was supposed to be my real career. I was really stuck. I knew I needed to make a big move. Juilliard wasn’t even on my radar at that point, but I knew something had to change. Coincidentally, these feelings coincided with my getting engaged, and my then-fiancé getting a job at a regional theatre in Virginia.  I didn’t know how that would impact my career, but I did know I’d have more time to write in Virginia than I did in Chicago, and that seemed like enough of a reason to go for it. It was while we were living there, and I took a breath and a break after years of never stopping long enough to really evaluate my trajectory, that I applied to Juilliard.

Whether you’re writing about air-guitar competitions, tiny house dwellers, magicians, sex workers or the Amish community; you’ve identified yourself as a “small-group primate writer”. How did you find that voice? Did you ever write in voices that didn’t work for you?

I wrote in voices that weren’t mine a lot.  I think that’s the only way to find the authentic voice that DOES feel like you.  I’d read a play by Tom Stoppard or Sarah Ruhl, and fall in love with it, and think, “Okay, that’s exceptional writing.  My writing should sound more like that, and then it will be exceptional.” It’s a recipe for disaster, but I feel like everyone has to try out that weird ventriloquism act for a while in order to uncover the things that can be incorporated into your own voice in a non-creepy way.  From Tom Stoppard, I got permission for explication, to make the audience feel like they’re as smart as the characters. From Sarah Ruhl, I got permission to be unapologetically feminine, and love all my characters beyond reason. I don’t sound like either one of them, but I can see the traces of the impact they and many other writers have had on me.

I didn’t define my voice until I got to Juilliard.  There’s a big push there to be able to succinctly talk about “your stuff,” which is important for all the millions of meetings you’ll have pitching yourself for jobs.  It’s something I hadn’t thought about much – I just wrote about things I found cool or upsetting or fascinating. When I started trying to define “my stuff,” my first guess was that I liked writing about power.  But the more I looked at the line that connected my plays, and the line that connected the process of writing them, I realized that what I’m really drawn to is research, and subsequently writing about groups of Americans who have their own value system that is more important to them than mainstream culture. What happens when a person wants to get into or out of one of those groups, or the value system comes up against something it’s not prepared for?  That’s interesting to me. I get a lot of inspiration from podcasts, articles, documentaries. I get these brain tickles that won’t leave me alone, and I start to do more research, and sometimes a human story emerges that I really want to write, and sometimes I just learn a ton of facts about some weird thing, that I then blast at people at parties.

Did you ever feel like giving up? If so, what got you through that time?

Um, let’s be real.  I feel like giving up ALL THE TIME.  This is not a sane business. This is not a safe business.  I think if I’d had a child by now, I would have given up. I think if I didn’t have the familial safety net that I have (meaning, I’ve never worried I’d be evicted or have to have an operation that I couldn’t pay for), I would have given up by now.  It’s always feast or famine as a playwright – either you take on more work than you can possibly do, to keep the lights on, or you can’t get anyone to pay attention to you at all. The thing that keeps me going is that I have a very deep belief that I’m really good at what I do, and I have something to contribute to the human conversation.  Plus, come on, NOTHING is better than being in a rehearsal room. I get to do that just often enough that it keeps me coming back for more. I also have a family, a husband, friends, mentors, who believe in me. Having that support system is invaluable, but it wouldn’t do any good if I didn’t have a really unshakeable belief in my own abilities. 

You’ve been a member of The Kilroys since 2018, a badass group that develops ‘The List’. ‘The List’, for those that don’t know, includes the results of [an] annual industry survey of excellent new plays by women, trans, and non-binary playwrights. It is a tool for producers committed to ending the systematic underrepresentation of women, trans, and non-binary playwrights in the American theater. Personally or professionally, what’s been the biggest lesson you’ve learned being a part of that community?

Being part of The Kilroys has been a life-changing experience.  It’s an anarchist feminist collective, which means that there is no “leader,” and everything is put through the crucible of group discussion before it’s pushed out into the world.  I’ve learned to be an organizer and an activist, and to do that I have had to confront my own implicit biases and blindspots (a middle-class white southerner), which has been humbling and invigorating.  Doing activism in this way – a way that’s positive, increases community, and gives a signal boost to women, trans, and nonbinary writers – is both a ton of work, and a dream come true. On a purely selfish note, it also gave me a handful of great relationships ready-made when I got to LA, which was exciting and comforting.

You’ve started branching into the world of TV and musical theatre. What changes from medium to medium? What stays the same?

What stays the same is that everybody thinks they know what they want but they don’t.  In all media, producers/directors/execs think they’re looking for something specific, but when they read something really good, they want that good thing.  And everyone defines that “good thing” differently! Upshot: there’s no point in trying to chase the market. You just have to write what you want to write, and then hope you or your agent/manager can get it into the hands of someone who gels with it.  TV used to be a lot more rigid, but now, it’s kind of anything goes, which is great for a playwright. Musicals are fun and tricky. They’re like plays where the monologues are sung. And you work on them for seven years, with other people. Both TV and musicals are A LOT more back-and-forth than I was used to, when I was sitting alone for hours at my computer working on my own.  But I love collaborating, and I love that I stand to make a living wage since I started branching out.  

Truth bomb!  Even Tony Kushner said it years ago – no one makes a living in America as a playwright.  You need to write screenplays, or TV, or act on a commercial level, or teach, or be married to someone with a really good job.  I think this is something that doesn’t get talked about a lot, or like, ever, and I just want to say it whenever I can. The real patrons of the American arts are the parents and spouses and relatives and employers who help out with bills and schedule flexible hours and provide free childcare and do all the things that enable artists to keep working.  Those people never end up with their names on the sides of buildings, they may not even LIKE theatre! So I want to give those folks a shout-out! I see you! THANK YOU, UNSUNG HEROES OF THE AMERICAN THEATRE!

Where are you on your mountain?

The funny thing is, I’m in a great place on the theatre side of the mountain.  It’s just not what I thought it would be from the bottom. I try to constantly remind myself that I currently have most of the things I’ve always wanted – published plays, awards, great relationships with artistic directors, the best agents, and the time and resources to work on what I want to work on, most of the time.  I just thought that, at some point, I’d… have time to take a breath? But the mountain is always a slippery slope and the hustle is real. I spend as much time trying to get jobs as I do writing. And I know I’m in a privileged position, that younger me is screaming, “ARE YOU REALLY COMPLAINING THAT TOO MANY PEOPLE WANT TO MEET WITH YOU??” but I guess I’m worried that this will all end at some point.  A lot of women drop out of playwriting as they get older – either to raise families, or because (as with actresses) youth and novelty are an easier sell than wrinkles and experience. So, I’d say I’m proud of where I am on the mountain, but I don’t feel safe enough to slow down and really enjoy it. Not yet.

RAPID FIRE!

Favorite Broadway show: TOO HARD!  I saw the revival of THE COLOR PURPLE three times and lost my mind every time.  I’m also a huge Sondheim fan and broke my VHS copy of INTO THE WOODS because I watched it too many times.  So I’ll start with those.

TV show that you love: Currently obsessed with SHRILL and THE GOOD PLACE.  Also, I watch all the new docuseries as soon as they drop.

On my commute, I’m listening to _______: Podcasts: The Dream, Oh No! Ross and Carrie, My Favorite Murder, Uncover: Satanic Panic, Radiolab, Confronting OJ Simpson… the list goes on and on… 

Ever host a podcast that revisits special episodes of beloved TV shows from the 1970’s-90’s?: I’m so glad you asked!  Why yes, for the last two years, I’ve hosted a comedy podcast called HUGGING AND LEARNING, which examines classic Very Special Episodes of television through the lens of the Hero’s Journey.  It’s ridiculous. I love it. Andrew Grigg, one of my oldest friends, is my co-host, and my husband is our engineer. We’re 70-something episodes in and it’s a hoot. Available on all podcatchers, and at www.HuggingAndLearning.com. 

Whether on TV or in theatre, I’d like to see more ____________: Complex female protagonists!  Did you see HUSTLERS? More characters like JLo in HUSTLERS.  Maternal AND cruel. Sloppy AND meticulous. Victim AND perpetrator. Compelling AND “unlikeable.”  More characters like that!!

Religious, Spiritual, or nah?: I have a lot of faith in a lot of things.  

Most underrated skill of a playwright: Ferreting out the note behind the note.  It’s a skill you can only learn over time and a lot of brutal notes sessions, rewrites, talkbacks, etc.  The natural mode is defensiveness, and you DO have to guard your work and advocate for it, but there is a certain skill to hearing feedback and figuring out that something like, “I don’t like that she does that thing in scene two” actually means, “you need to set up her motivation better in scene one.”

Best part of being married to a sound designer and composer: In-house podcast engineering!  I kid, I kid. I like that our brains work in different but complementary ways.  I think that helps us solve problems in both the artistic and non-artistic spheres.  Plus, he’s the best sound designer I know. When I get to work with him on a co-project, that’s the absolute best.

Believe in having a “word of the year”?: Yes, I do!  I gave up on New Year’s resolutions a long time ago, but I do like to declare a theme or objective on January 1st.  The theme for 2019 was “Magic.”  The theme for 2020 is “Leap.”

Ever miss a deadline?: Nope.  Art loves order.  I am meticulous about meeting deadlines.  I think that’s why I have so many commissions – producers know that I will deliver a play.  I do try to look at my entire year, and space out deadlines so they don’t all come due at the same time.  I’m a fast writer, and I break my neck to meet deadlines.

Biggest beef with the business: How hard it is to get people to pay you on time, even if you have excellent reps.

Favorite part of the business: The relationships.  My mentor once asked me if I write plays just so I can hang around actors.  The answer is yes, and I also want to hang around directors, designers, dramaturgs, execs, interns, audience members, the people I interview for research, etc.  Last year I got to hang out with the Air Guitar World Champion, a 4th-generation stage magician, and an FBI Supervisory Special Agent.  That’s unassailably cool.

Social media handles:

@AChelseaDay on Twitter (for the 4x a year I tweet)

@HuggingAndLearning on Instagram

www.ChelseaMarcantel.com

Anything you’d like to promote?:  You can buy my plays at www.ChelseaMarcantel.com/buy, and see my upcoming productions all over the country on my website as well.

Subscribe to Hugging and Learning in your podcast feed!

Photo Credits:

• Headshot (credit: Ryan Bourque photography)

• Lucas Papaelias and Marinda Anderson in AIRNESS at the 2017 Humana Festival of New American Plays (photo by Bill Brymer)

• Lexi Lapp and Hollis McCarthy in EVERYTHING IS WONDERFUL at the 2017 Contemporary American Theatre Festival (photo by Seth Freeman Photography)

• Peter Hargrave, Michael Doherty, Kate Eastman, and Nandita Shenoy in the Cleveland Playhouse production of TINY HOUSES (photo credit: Roger Mastroianni)

From Peter: I met Nandita early last year as we worked on Chelsea Marcantel’s world premiere of Tiny Houses. 

Nandita taught me an infinite amount about the business, artistry, and life as we became dear friends over the subsequent 4 months. You can’t peg her as one thing. She began her career as a dancer on a national tour of the highest caliber, she’s still a tremendous actor, she’s written and starred in her own Off-Broadway play. She’s a committed political activist, a ferocious intellect, a foodie, and the best kind of person to have in your corner whether you need to celebrate or commiserate. 

She’ll give you lots of wisdom in her feature, but her are some of the things I got to learn from Nandita:

1. She puts in the work to manifest her goals. She had never played a lead or a romantic character, so she wrote a play where she played the romantic lead for her Off-Broadway playwriting debut. (You can learn more about that process for Nandita here) Since, she’s played numerous romantic characters, including Tiny Houses. If that weren't enough, the last time we hung out, Nandita said, "I want to do a British accent in a play this year!" She's currently playing Lucy Steele in Sense and Sensibility.

2. “You can either be happy when you’re not working or when you are working. But you can’t have both. I choose to be happy when I’m working.” Me too, Nandita.

3. I’m paraphrasing her brilliance on this last one, but… Nandita doesn’t love the phrase “[So-and-so] deserves it'' when speaking about someone experiencing a big success. Because the reality is, so many people “deserve it”. Most industry folks are working hard, being brave, and persevering through intense rejection. Don’t we all “deserve it”? Therefore, we should do the work knowing our efforts might not be recognized, but that doesn’t make our work any less deserving.

The truth of the matter is, however, as her friend and as her fan; when good things happen to Nandita? She deserves it.

Nandita, you are someone who has found success in so many facets of our industry and we’re THRILLED to have you fill our readers in on your path. Would you introduce yourself to our readers?

I’m an actor-playwright whose path has had many twists and turns along the way.  I grew up in Buffalo, NY where I studied dance from age 6 on. At my first dance recital. I discovered how much I loved being on stage!  I also came to New York for the first time at age 10 for a dance competition, and the minute I stepped off the Carey bus onto the sidewalk, I knew that New York was where I would live.  It felt like home. I deliberately chose to go to college outside of New York because I wanted to have a different experience from what I knew would be my adult life. I started in the business after college as a chorus dancer and then slowly made the transition to acting.  From there I started to write plays, and sometimes I write plays that have parts for myself in them. I’m lucky that I have had a few of my plays produced, including one Off-Broadway that I got to star in!

You, like most successful actors, got an English Lit degree from Yale (insert wink emoji here). Can you talk about the decision to not major in theatre and how that might have benefited you later in your career?

This was an easy decision for me because I had no idea I would want to work in the theater when I started college!  I had a deep love for literature and pursued that. The theater bug did not bite me until after I graduated. That said, I am grateful for my English degree because it gave me a sense of security.  Many people would not feel comforted by having a degree in something other than one’s life’s work, even though it could be said that my love of theater is a natural outgrowth from literature, but for me, I always felt like I had something else.  I think it made me feel that my entire identity was not in my career, and that has been a healthy outlook for me.

It’s one thing to be pigeon-holed in Musical Theatre, but an even more ambitious task for a dancer to be considered for acting roles. What were the steps you took to change the message of the work you wanted to do?

I did a lot of downtown theater!  The South Asian theater community was galvanizing right around the time I decided I wanted to act as well, and most of my early opportunities were as part of theater festivals created by and for South Asian artists.  I was lucky that I was developing as an actor at the same time that community was expanding and creating opportunities. I also stepped away from musical theater after a particularly bad experience for almost two years, and during that time, I really found myself as an actor.

Also, I had to find a new agent as I focused more on acting. I was freelancing with an agent when I was primarily a dancer, but she really did not see me as an actor.  A friend introduced me to their agent, and I auditioned for her solely as an actor. I think getting representation who saw me as I saw myself made a big difference in my career.  So I definitely had to re-introduce myself into the business in order to make the transition.  

What made you decide to put on the ‘playwright’ hat? What has that done for you personally and professionally?

As I pursued acting, I didn’t find an awful lot of roles for people who looked and sounded like me.  In particular, I rarely auditioned with my own American accent – I almost always auditioned with an Indian accent.  But I was interested in telling stories about people who were Americans that happened to be of Indian descent. One of my South Asian actor friends asked me why I didn't write a play since I had an English degree from Yale!  And a bell went off for me that was like “Yeah, I should do that!” So I did. I started with a short play that I wrote for my best friend and me to perform. We worked on it every few weeks, and when I felt like it was finished, I submitted it to some short play contests.  One, the Green Light One Act Festival, accepted my play and produced it in New York in the summer of 2007. I decided not to act in the play so that I could fully experience being a writer, and it was one of the most gratifying experiences of my career, particularly sitting in the audience and hearing people laugh at the jokes that I had written.  A member of the Ma-Yi Writers Lab attended one of the shows and suggested that I apply to that group for Asian American playwrights. I was fortunate to get in, and I credit the group with supporting me in writing my first full-length play.  

I think being a playwright has made me a better actor because I’m no longer entirely dependent on my acting career to provide me with a creative outlet.  I think it’s made me a better auditioner because I’m not so desperate in the room anymore. When I audition now, I think “I’d love a chance to do this, but if not, I can still be creative on my own,” and that has been really empowering for me.

While it can be exhausting to push two careers forward, it has also been nice to have one do well while the other is on a lull and vice versa.  And now as a writer, I never have an excuse not to be working on something!

Because you sit on the steering committee for the Asian American Performers Action Coalition, we would be remiss if we didn’t talk about diversity in our industry. Theatre considers itself a leader in inclusivity, an AAPAC ethnic diversity study released last year, however, (Find the link to the 2016/2017 report here) exposes how far we have to go. From your perspective, what are actionable steps creators can take to make work more diverse and inclusive?

Include more voices from a diversity of perspectives all over the theater.  It’s not enough simply to cast inclusively. Put together diverse creative teams and diverse administrations.   Look outside your traditional outlets for writers, directors, and designers as well as administrative staff, from the front of house to the top of the organization.  Also, thank your ethnic friends who help you when you are looking for actors of a particular ethnicity for a role because you don’t know that community. So many of my fellow actors of color wind up offering casting advice without any compensation or even recognition of the time and energy it takes to come up with a list of actors who fit a certain type.  We all do it because we want to help our communities, but it is work.

What has been the most difficult time in this career for you? Looking back, how has that shaped you to who you are now?

I was cut from the first round of “Bombay Dreams” auditions after being the only Indian woman I had ever seen at auditions for years.  It was a devastating experience that made me question my own talent as a dancer and a performer. But what it forced me to do was look at myself holistically as an artist and focus on the kind of art that was important to me.  I think it also pushed me to diversify my skills instead of putting all my eggs in the dancer basket. Looking back on the experience, I know it was a very rough time emotionally, but it ultimately forced me onto a different path which has ultimately been truly satisfying to me on many levels.

What’s something you wish you had done or wish you had known earlier?

I wish I had prioritized taking a vacation sooner in my life.  I was always afraid to take time away because I might miss an audition, but ultimately, I was burning myself out that way.  I recognize that it can be financially difficult to take time away, but it is really important to make time for yourself. Also getting out of the rat race every so often can give you a healthy perspective on the business.  Auditions will always be there, but it’s important to take care of yourself as a whole person.

Where are you on your mountain?

The middle somewhere?  Sometimes I wonder if this is as good as it gets, and then sometimes I think things are just getting started.  I have no idea, but I’m trying to enjoy all the scenic points!

RAPID FIRE!

Favorite Broadway show of all time: West Side Story

TV show that you love:  Blackish, The Last OG (and not just because I was on it for 1 minute), Schitts Creek

On my commute, I’m listening to _______:  I read the paper and Twitter on the subway.  I have a fear of listening to headphones because I think I won’t hear some really important announcement.  Of course, who can understand the announcements on the subway?

Any other obsessions?:  Politics?  

Social media is ________:  probably going to destroy our society

Religious, Spiritual, or nah?:  Spiritual

Any bad audition stories?:  There was the time I had an audition the day I flew home from a gig, and… The plane had no gate. Then the door got stuck.  Then my Lyft could not exit the parking garage of LaGuardia. I had to take all my luggage to the audition with me. I was wearing my rainboots because they didn’t fit in my luggage, and I felt embarrassed to open my suitcase in the casting office.  So I barely made it to my appointment, delirious and wearing rain boots with a giant suitcase. I did not book the job.

Job you didn’t expect to book:  Tiny Houses

Coolest or strangest moment on set:  When I realized a certain star was actually the person they portrayed on another show!

Biggest beef with the business:  Lack of diversity in the highest paying jobs.

No one is talking about the systematic weakening of unions by the current administration, but it’s a big deal because unions are what allow actors (and many other professions) to make a living wage and have a reasonable standard of living.

Social media handles? Or maybe the better phrasing would be: Any fake social media accounts?: Twitter is @NanditaShenoyNY, and I have an Instagram imposter who is not me but uses my photo and the handle @Nanditashenoy1955 like I know anything about 1955.

Anything you’d like to promote?: My newest play, Rage Play, is being developed by Flux Theatre Ensemble this spring. My current gig is a production of “Sense and Sensibility” at Virginia Stage.  I’m playing Lucy Steele and having a complete blast!

Photo Credits:

Headshot - Deborah Lopez

Candid - Dennis Corsi

Tiny Houses - Mikki Schaffner

Washer/Dryer - Isaiah Tannenbaum