Lindsey's Artist Statement
I make theatre because I believe there is something powerful about people gathering in the same room to tell and experience a story together. We live in a world where so much of our communication happens through screens, behind usernames, or from a distance. Theatre asks us to put all of that aside, look up and be present. Be present with the story, with the performers, and with the people sitting beside us. There is something both confrontational and wonderfully human about that.
Throughout my journey as a performing artist, I have always wanted to make theatre that feels welcoming, accessible, and meaningful. I don't want people to feel like they need to know the “right” way to experience theatre before they walk through the door. I want them to feel invited. I want them to laugh, cry, question, be surprised, or simply sit in the dark and let them escape through imagination for a while.
A mentor of mine shared a quote with me that continues to guide my artistry by Cesar A. Cruz. “Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” I want theatre to be a place where people can see themselves and feel less alone, and also a place where they can encounter a perspective they haven't considered before. If a story can make someone a little more curious about another person's experience, or a little more empathetic toward someone different from them, then I think it has done something worthwhile.
I believe the process of making theatre matters just as much as what ends up onstage. I want to be the kind of collaborator who is open, honest, curious, and playful. I want to work with people who feel safe enough to take risks, make mistakes, ask questions, and bring their own ideas into the room. Theatre is a collaborative art form, and I strive for my work to reflect that.
I also consider myself a lifelong learner. I want to continue cultivating my craft—not simply by gaining more experience, but by intentionally challenging myself to grow as an artist. I want to understand my tools more deeply, push the boundaries of what I think I am capable of, and develop the skills to turn the ideas in my head into meaningful pieces of art. I am at a point in my artistic journey where I want to dive deeply into an intensive program that gives me the time, structure, mentorship, and community to do that work.
For me, further training isn't about collecting another credential or reaching some imagined point of being a “finished” artist. I don't think that point exists. It is about giving myself the opportunity to slow down, experiment, fail, and discover. I want to be challenged by artists who see the world differently than I do and learn alongside people who are just as curious and passionate about the work. I want to leave that experience with a deeper understanding of my craft and a stronger ability to create the kind of art I believe the world needs.
Ultimately, I want to take everything I learn—the skills, the questions, the failures, the discoveries—and use it to create art that supports my larger mission: to connect people, spark imagination, cultivate empathy, and make people feel a little less alone. And if, after all of that, we leave the theatre with just a little more empathy for each other than we had when we walked in, then I think we have done something pretty special.
