Artistic Statement

Artistic Statement

As a writer working in theatre, live performance, and games, I create work that engages directly with the audience and believes in our shared responsibility for the performance.

From my perspective as a trans and chronically ill writer, my work explores bodies and our relationships to them. This interest shows up in themes, such as death acceptance, and in my stage directions, which often feature bodies in motion and tension. My work thrives in specificity, avoiding the impossible goal of simulating a universal experience. I draw on true stories, fears, and feelings, mixing in absurdity, magic, and camp.

Linear narrative structures cannot adequately express queer and trans stories and as such I am not interested in the “Well-Made Play.” I am interested in queer temporality. My plays are often highly structured, but use connective tissue outside of linear time: such as collaged dreams, stops along a Metro line, or the process of making a quilt.

My time with Orchard Project’s Liveness Lab and CultureHub’s Writing for Electronic Formats ignited a passion in me to join those pushing the boundaries of theatrical form. I create theatre that brings us together in a physical space, and theatre that brings us together in a distanced space - whether online, outside the window, or over the phone. Those who are homebound or otherwise unable to attend in person still deserve access to live theatre.

As a playwright and game designer, I’m particularly interested in the intersection of theatre and games. I enjoy making low pressure interactive experiences for participants, from groups of friends around a table to audience members discussing poetry with me over the phone. I think of theatre as a space for recreation and discovery - through play and imagination, we can discover new ways of being and being together.

How we make art is more important than the art we make. At its best, my work is unapologetically sincere, and helps my audience and collaborators feel connected and less singular. For a moment they might even feel like a little part of everything.