WHAT I BELIEVE:
Statements on the Theatre
“Theatre is about memory: it is an act of memory and description. There are plays and people and moments of history to revisit. Our culture treasure trove is full to bursting. And the journeys will change us, make us better, bigger, and more connected. We enjoy a ripe, diverse, and unique history and to celebrate it is to remember it. To remember it is to use it. To use it is to be true to who we are. A great deal of energy and imagination is demanded. And an interest in remembering and describing where we come from.”
“Theater is a celebration of fragility, transience, imperfection, collapse, precariousness, unreliability, and collision. Of all the arts forms, it is the one that relies most on what is avoided. It’s the space in which failure isn’t a disaster but an explosion of possibilities. It’s inherently a resistive space because, quite simply, it’s constantly in creation... It’s only theatre that could establish collapse as a collective experience: understanding the consequences and the stakes of such moments, and our responsibilities as humans and individuals in relation to them. ”
“When you tell a story, you tell it to save your life...”
An Ever-Evolving Artistic Statement
The human condition contains such fascinating stories. My job as a theatre artist is to delve into the messiness of our stories – in all their tragic, joyful, and gritty glory – and investigate what it means to live a life. I am drawn to work by playwrights like Naomi Wallace, Suzan-Lori Parks, Jose Rivera, Lucy Thurber, Tony Kushner, Adrienne Kennedy and Howard Barker, who exalt complexity and dare to push against mediocre, didactic clarity. These playwrights embody James Baldwin’s assertion that “the artist cannot and must not take anything for granted, but must drive to the heart of every answer and expose the question the answer hides.” It is the act of questioning that is essential, for things are rarely as simple as they seem. Uninteresting are the plays that neatly wrap a moral lesson and spoon-feed it to an audience in the last five minutes. For “it turns out,” Charles Mee reminds us, “that life is nothing but loose ends.”
I am excited by plays that push the boundaries of reality with bold theatricality, poetic language, and impossible stage directions. They have the ability to ensnare us in visceral, collective experiences and command attention in an age of passivity. I want stories that explore human fallibility and expose hypocrisy. We are capable of such overwhelming kindness and passion, while committing horrendous acts of violence and self-preservation. My hypothesis is that we need more plays which expand our resilience in the face of contradiction, not reduce it. Even heroes are flawed – and their imperfection does not invalidate them, it makes them all the more compelling. Theatre, then, is a movement toward nuance, empathy, and hope for change.
An Ever-Evolving Statement on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion
A fierce commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion is essential to my work as a director and theatre artist. Diversity of experience, race, gender, identity, ability, thought and perspective, and taste enrich the fabric of our art form and reflect the complexities of the human condition.
I believe that diversity encompasses a wide range of intersecting identities, both visible and invisible. In my personal life, I often do not feel fully seen by society. I am a gay, first-generation Palestinian American from the South. I tend to feel stuck in the space between cultures and race – excluded from some groups, shuffled into others, and often called upon to justify my identity. Rarely is my background/heritage explored on stage. When it does occur, as in the chance to direct Naomi Wallace’s In the Heart of America, the experience is overwhelming. If the feeling was a gesture, I would place both hands over my heart – to simultaneously protect it and to hold its fullness.
Thus, I believe one of my jobs as a director is to amplify voices that have gone unheard, to champion stories and make space for artists that also may not feel seen, from the board room to the rehearsal room. I strive to create environments where a diverse group of collaborators can bring their full, complex, beautiful selves to the work. I like to think of it as a cornucopia, a celebration of different experiences and perspectives. I ask questions, listen, and lean into difficult conversations. How can I expect to be seen if I don’t see others? How else can artists be moved to create their best work?
I believe a commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion is not a destination, but an ever-evolving process. The work is never finished, nor is it easy. In fact, it can be quite uncomfortable. It requires constant ATTENTION and INTENTION – attention to the unconscious biases I carry and intentionally reframing the way I engage with an issue or my community; attention to the structures of racism I have encountered and benefited from and intentionally confronting and striving to dismantle them. This work can only be done with humility, vulnerability, and generosity of spirit. We all make mistakes. I have and know I will. When that happens, I must listen, apologize, learn, and actively implement change.
I believe we all have a role to play in the American theatre. I believe that exploring diverse stories is the only way for our communities to witness, discover, challenge, and embrace what it means to be human. I believe empowering diverse artists makes that exploration possible. And I believe my voice can be a part of that conversation.
Feel free to contact me if you are interested in my personal actions towards an anti-racist, equitable, and inclusive American theatre.