The Director
Curiosity is the Shortest Path to Truth
I love solving problems. Not because something is broken, but because every problem is an opportunity to understand a story more deeply. Whether I'm revisiting a classic, or helping shape a world premiere, I'm fascinated by the moment when a scene suddenly clicks—not because someone imposed an answer, but because everyone in the room discovered it together.
I come into every production with a clear point of view. I spend a great deal of time analyzing the script before rehearsals begin, looking for patterns, contradictions, rhythms, and the hidden architecture beneath the dialogue. I want to arrive with ideas, questions, and a roadmap.
But I don't mistake preparation for certainty. Preparation gives us a place to begin. Curiosity shows us where we actually need to go. The rehearsal room exists to test ideas, not protect them. If a better answer presents itself, I want to find it.
I come into every production with a clear point of view. I spend a great deal of time analyzing the script before rehearsals begin, looking for patterns, contradictions, rhythms, and the hidden architecture beneath the dialogue. I want to arrive with ideas, questions, and a roadmap.
But I don't mistake preparation for certainty. Preparation gives us a place to begin. Curiosity shows us where we actually need to go. The rehearsal room exists to test ideas, not protect them. If a better answer presents itself, I want to find it.
My Process
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"Start Strong. Fail Fast."
I believe in getting a play on its feet as quickly as possible. Rather than spending weeks discussing what a scene might become, I'd rather see what it actually is when actors bring it to life. That means I often begin rehearsals with confident choices. Not because I expect them to survive unchanged, but because movement creates information. I'd rather make a bold choice that doesn't work on the first day than cautiously circle the right answer for three weeks. Mistakes aren't setbacks. Every unsuccessful attempt tells us something valuable about the play. |
"What a Wonderful Problem."
You'll hear me say this in rehearsal. A scene isn't landing? Wonderful. A transition feels awkward? Wonderful. Those moments don't frustrate me. They excite me, because they mean the play is asking another question. |
"Do It For Yourselves."
One of my favorite rehearsal traditions comes after we've left a scene alone for a week or two. When we come back to it, I don't immediately start giving notes. Instead I tell the actors "Do it once for yourselves." I expect mistakes. In fact, I hope for them. The dust needs to be knocked off. New discoveries often emerge when we reconnect without worrying about getting it "right." Then we do it again, and I say "Now do it for me." That's when I begin giving notes. By then, we're solving today's problems—not yesterday's assumptions. |
Let's Build Something Together!
Theatre is collaborative by nature. I don't believe the director should have every answer before rehearsal begins; I believe the director should know how to ask the questions that lead everyone toward the best answer. If you're looking for someone who loves text analysis, embraces bold experimentation, delights in solving difficult problems, and believes the strongest productions are discovered rather than imposed, I'd love to collaborate. Let's see what we can uncover together.