I’ve been singing, dancing, and acting my entire life. They didn't come together until high school. I went to high school in Chicago. I was exposed to a bunch of different people. We had musicals in high school that I was a part of. Other than that, I did choir in school and dance after school. I also did oratory competitions, which is kind of like acting. I was going to go to school (university) for dance, but after my junior year I decided musical theater was better and more fun for me. I went out on a limb and auditioned for musical theater places and got into Florida State University, which was my top choice at the time. I went there for two years and transferred because of the culture shock and the politics of north Florida and the curriculum. I transferred to NYU for musical theater in the drama program. I just graduated there last spring with a BFA in drama. I did some summer stocks and the Muny for a few years. I started auditing after I graduated in NYC. I had three weeks to get a job before my contract at the Muny ended. I ended up booking the out of town tryout in Seattle for ‘Mrs. Doubtfire’. I then transferred with the show to NYC. I am also a creative and interpretive artist. I write, choreograph, compose, and arrange music as well. That’s pretty much me.
For me, I have mentors that have shaped who I am as an artist and then there people in the arts that have shaped my relationship to the arts that inspire me that I may not even know personally. My first dance teacher who used to dance with Dance Theater of Harlem — Caribbean guy, very scary, tough love — taught me everything I know now about being a performer and just showing up and being invested in everything that I do. I find that if I am slacking it is actually something I don't want to do. A lot of people who shaped my artistry are people that I don't really know. For instance, Margaret Burroughs who was a local legend in Chicago and all around artist, painter, author. She just did a lot of things in the arts and was an activist as well. The whole idea of an artist that contributed to their community comes from her. I have been delving into my own ancestral lineage. There are some gems in my family tree! My great grandmother was a crazy artist in a little bit of everything. She was also an activist, which I didn't know. She was part of a woman communist society in the 1950s and was an amazing person that I researched a lot about and read some of her work — that has also shaped who I am as an artist.
That’s easy: being Black. I tell you, being Black is really hard as a professional dancer and performer. A lot of the time especially being a Black creative artist hired to be an interpretive artist is hard. The way I have kind of seen my journey in the arts is I have two sides of me. I have the interpretive side and the creative side. An interpretive artist… interprets other people's creative work and there is creativity in the interpretation. Dancers, actors, singers, anyone who has a playbook in front of them that is told to execute this in your way and the your way part is where the creativity comes in. And then there are the creative artists who create the work for themselves or for you to interpret. Those are the writers, choreographers, directors, the arrangers, those kinds of people who create things to give to others to execute. They definitely intersect but I put them in files for my own understanding of where I am in the arts. Me as a person: I am political, my opinions are political, my identity is political. I make my opinions known and there are politics in that. Becoming a part of projects that are not made for me or by people that look like me it is hard to exercise my own subjectivity in those kinds of space and that's an issue I have had in university and working professionally. It is hard being Black in the mainstream arts.
Yes, definitely! I hope so, because that's what I want to do for the rest of my life so if not I don't know what I will do. I think the easiest answer is in terms of content, especially for theater. Like, it's easy to make a show about Black people or about something that is going on in the world today and you can raise awareness through that. While there is truth in that, I would go even further. Making sure your content is for Black people. I am saying Black people because that is my thing, because I know my community has been shut out of elite artistic spaces, [but] I mean marginalized people in general. It can be a platform for social justice in the conventions of the art itself. Breaking rules in the arts that are eurocentric, that are created by and for people that don’t like me or you. Just breaking the rules of the arts is the easiest way. There is anarchy in breaking it but there is a purpose. Everything is intentional. For instance, I am writing a show right now where it’s just as simple as not having a proscenium. That is something that is very eurocentric in the standards of drama and the theater. Breaking a barrier like that or having characters talk on stage that sound like the block they are from. If you close your eyes and hear me talk, I am clearly a Black girl. I have had training at NYU that has tried to make me sound more marketable and take the black out of me. Just having people on stage that sound Latinx or Black. The language is something eye opening on stage that is recalibrating the arts in small ways. That is social justice.
Other art. Other art from marginalized people. “Ekphrasis” — I learned about this word in middle school. My public school went to a museum, we were at the Art Institute [of Chicago] and we had to make an art piece on something we saw. It was basically art inspired by art. It was interesting because the only reason I remembered that word was because that has been what has inspired me up until now. One of my favorite artists is Terence Nance, who is a filmmaker. He inspires the work that I am making, which has nothing to do with filmmaking. I have no experience in film and his films are Afro-futuristic and call on Black heritage and molds of expression our ancestors used in their time. His work is really interesting. That is what inspires me as an artist — other art from other marginalized people. Especially art that I do not personally do, like visual art. There is this painting I saw a few days ago that is a bunch of Black people in the 1950s at a juke joint and it made me want to make a dance piece. It inspired me, the angles and the curves of the Black women and the open mouths of the men. Also, I am still young and in the phase of being inspired by artists that are older and more seasoned than me, like Maria Torres, who is one of my favorite dancers in the world. A hustle diva! Watching her videos from the ‘90s and watching her dance — I am still in the phase of wanting to do that when I'm older.
I am living my best life. This time has been so therapeutic and productive for me. I just wrote something for the New York Times where they asked a similar question. I might’ve ruffled some feathers, but I don’t give a fuck. I said the Black arts community has been here before. Meaning that not in an epidemic, but kinda like if you really wanna talk about it when Black people came over during the middle passage, Black people had to thrive in the face of a disease. The definition of Blackness is resilience and occupying a creative space that is now present because of destruction. My ancestors have been here before and being prepared for crisis is in my DNA, I’m convinced. That’s why I’m doing well. The hardest thing is not working out — getting on 305 and doing Zumba fitness is just not me. Other than that, this has been a time for me to create. I have been writing my ass off in ways I have not had the opportunity to do. Our producer said we have a show to go back to after all of this and because I know that I am using this time to invest in my own creativity. I have cleaned my space and made sure my environment is suitable to foster creativity. I am on the piano everyday and collaborating with other marginalized people from Chicago and NYC who are also trying to stay creative. I am writing a show right now with a reading soon which will probably be on Zoom. I know financially it is hard. I am lucky enough to have a support system that can help me along while I'm out here by myself and out of a job for now. Other than that I have been keeping myself sane by staying creative.