Directing is an Act of Service. Directing is creating space for people to feel brave enough to speak their truth, and celebrating the talents of an artistic community. It is collaborating, generating, rallying, – empowering everyone to work their best towards a unified vision. 

I am drawn to stories where I can share different perspectives in their boldest and most honest form. I sometimes see shows where directors, in efforts to be clear, make simplifying choices. Their characters and beats exist as tour guides rather than complex, larger-than-life, or dramatically interesting beings. Through my direction, I remind us that our world does not exist in a binary, and that life is beautifully full of contradictions and complexity. We won’t always have the words to communicate as clearly as we want, but it is always worth trying to understand. It is worth seeing people that live and exist differently than us on stage, so that we can more easily accept one another.

As a 2nd generation, Korean American queer woman, my perspective deeply understands the feeling of living in, and sometimes hiding in, multiple realities at once, making sense out of contradictions. I uplift stories about the meaning of family and legacy (whether they are chosen or assigned to us), the exploration of identity and intersectionality, the uncovering and subversion of history or what we thought we knew, and most importantly, stories that will make us laugh.

When I direct, I apply my acting training. 
I listen to the needs of my surroundings 
and switch between responding with my mind, my heart, or my gut. 
Especially in new work development,
I use my logic to craft structure and form, 
and my wit to inspire bits and jokes. 

I apply my classical music training
and my general appreciation for music.
I approach scripts like a score
and let my groovy and rhythmic musicality activate each scene, 
Each beat,
with energy that 
expresses more strongly than words. 

Lastly, I apply my Korean “training”. 
A common saying I hear on the singing competition show my parents watch is,
“He sang deliciously.”
And so in my work, I often ask myself, 
“How can I direct a ‘delicious’ experience?”
“Which choices elicit visceral feelings and reactions that touch your soul?”
The years of absorbing K-Pop culture and my heritage without fully knowing the language or history actually led me to feel and understand at a deeper level. It’s second nature to contextualize and express with all of my senses and soul when I don’t have the words.

While I primarily see myself as a director,  I hope to continue working as a dramaturg, producer, & performer, as well as interlace working with other companies to my own independent, self-produced projects. I want to challenge what we consider theatre to be, & make experiences in non-traditional spaces, whether it’s outdoors, in my apartment, or in the virtual world. I want to constantly evolve and adapt so that I am recognized as a sharply-minded collaborative artist, that stays attuned to what a specific project, specific people, or a community needs from me in order to make the biggest and boldest impact. 

And I want the process of our theatremaking and presenting to mirror these stories, by celebrating the artist community we become, embracing each of our unique perspectives with curiosity and care, and prioritizing the communities in our story to be in our audience. It’s like hosting the fun dinner parties I grew up going to. And once we open house and let even more guests (aka the audience) in, it’s like you’re coming over to our show’s house for a nice home-cooked meal. You’ll follow our rules (shoes off!) and eat what we feed you (we’ll give you a spice warning, among others), but trust that you will be taken care of and have a taste of something new. By approaching theatre in a more holistic, community-centered way, we can find the calm through the chaos, learn new solutions, heal, grow, and regenerate joy together.