We look to the past to shape our future. Who are you? Where are you going from here?

I am an actor, photographer, and storyteller. I was born of two proud Ecuadorian immigrants and raised along the shores of New Jersey. From here, I go where my passion for storytelling takes me. I can’t wait to find out where that is.

What most excites you about being a part of TAM’s (R)evolutionary Redux Season?

To be in a room with professional empaths after a year of isolation will be incredibly unique. I can only imagine how incredibly eager everyone is to “make theatre” once again and I’m so excited to be in a room full of yearning artists.

We’re all about making old things new and new things classic. Why are you drawn to Classic Theatre? How do you shake it up?

If a play has withstood the test of time, as an actor, it’s my job to figure out why. I think about the questions the playwright may have been asking themself but more so I think about what the playwright demands my character to grapple with. I constantly check in with myself to ensure that I get as deep and as messy I can in pursuit of answers.

From what sources do you draw your inspiration?

Walter Pater said, “All art constantly aspires towards the condition of music” and it solidified my belief that music will always be my inspiration and it’s what I hope people would compare my work to.

You can have dinner with any three influential people. Who are your dream guests, why them, and what is the topic of conversation?

Michaela Coel, Stephen Colbert, Lin-Manuel Miranda. I just don’t know what quarantine would have been like without their radical empathy. If I had to choose a topic, I’d want to know who *they* would have want to have dinner with and why.

What recent revolutionary acts are you most proud of?

Being kinder to myself. As an artist, this past year has been heavy but in the words of the brilliant Audre Lorde; “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”  

What’s your super power?

I’m a thief. In conversations, I take the time to really see who I’m talking to, perhaps too intently. I notice their idiosyncrasies, their instincts. I observe how they solve problems and how they reason and take note when they don’t. I’m obsessed with capturing people in a time capsule in my head, waiting for the perfect play and the perfect character to try to tell their story.