I like to tell people that I was born into and ultimately raised by the arts.  My mother was a dancer/choreographer turned studio owner, so most of my early days were spent twirling alone in front of a mirror while mining up every inch of creativity I had. Usually the only child in a room of artists, my imagination was always the thing they had encouraged me to cultivate. So that's what I did.

 

I went on to perform, study and work in the performing arts for the next few decades -- forever searching for the kind of artistry that would continue to inspire me. I've been chasing the magic of the theatrical moment; hurling myself into opportunities where I can craft that moment for others and create the transient magnetism that this art form bestows upon the viewer.  

 

I've been an (often rebellious) student of the work -- from the dusty corners of Broadway Dance & STEPS to the barre at Princeton Ballet School and up the New England coast to the hallowed halls of The Boston Conservatory. I've been in the trenches as a performer since I was a child. I have had the pleasure of singing in countless cabarets, getting my equity card, touring internationally, debuting premiere works and nursing myself through every dance injury imaginable. I've now happily landed behind the table, working as a director/choreographer in New York City and also proudly an Artistic Director at Metuchen Dance Centre and the founder of the Theatre Arts Conservatory based in New Jersey.

 

I'm interested in that irreplaceable magic that exists in the impermanence of live performance. As an educator, I'm always talking to my students about the breath. How you breathe in the room, on the stage or within the moment, it all defines the work. The ease with which it allows you to connect to the material all the while being the conduit in how the audience ultimately connects to you. It's my belief that it is the life source in what we do as artists; the connective tissue that allows all people to feel like they understand the moment they are experiencing. It all comes back to the breath. As a director/choreographer, it's no secret that I love to ask questions about the uncertainty of each moment and the motivation behind the next. What CAN happen in this moment and how will it lead us somewhere else? What are the possibilities in a single look or a gesture? How are we inching the audience closer to us and what are we discovering about ourselves along the way?

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So...that's me! Theatre kid turned theatre adult, in a lifelong, beautifully complicated relationship with the performing arts. I'm breathing my way through every deliciously unpredictable moment and delighting in every incalculable surprise.

Alway