About a year and a half after I moved to NYC, I was lucky to be cast as Gertie in an all-Asian reading of OKLAHOMA, directed by Baayork Lee, of A CHORUS LINE fame. Still quite green to the politics of show business in NYC, I had, until I started rehearsal for the reading, been naively unaware that there was an Asian community of actors in the city, most of whom not only knew each other, but loved each other as family. Though raised by a Chinese mom in Singapore, I have never defined myself as any particular race or "colour." Sure, I refer to myself as a Chinese-Jew, but I certainly never limit myself to what being Chinese and/or Jewish embodies (and, anyway, I am most Chinese-Jewish in my love of eating, a love which both cultures share). I was not singled out for being different when I went to high school in the Jewish suburb of Chappaqua, Westchester, and when I left Chappaqua and continued my higher education in London, I was set apart by my American accent, not my race. The closest I ever came to feeling "boxed in" by my heritage was when I was in ballet class in college and we had a substitute ballet teacher in who, at one moment, pointed to me and said, "little Japanese girl, come here." It took all of my might not to burst into laughter and denounce her ignorance in my broad American accent.
Perhaps I never saw myself as "different" because I spent the first 10 years of my life living in Singapore and going to an international school with friends from all over the globe: Pakistan, Australia, Japan, Sri Lanka, Sweden; you name the country, I probably knew someone from there at school. We were all from completely different backgrounds, and yet our differences were what made us similar; we were all children whose parents came to Singapore from another country, and in that way, we were all the same. My parents tell this story of this time my twin sister and I were allowed to pick out one doll each, and my sister chose a black doll. We didn't distinguish, because we grew up never having to, and so didn't know how to. By the time we left Singapore, at the age of 10, my sister and I probably had more friends whose first language was not English, and it never occurred to us that that sort of childhood was not the norm.
Consequently, I never grew up feeling different or expecting to be treated differently because of my race. When I went to college to major in theatre dance, I credit my teachers for never teaching me that I should expect to be typecast. I left college and went on to play Vietnamese in MISS SAIGON, Puerto Rican in WEST SIDE STORY, and Cuban as the Havana feature in GUYS AND DOLLS, alongside some Caucasian roles, as well. Did it ever, for one second, occur to me that I was doing an injustice to those roles by not being of authentic ethnicity? Not for one second. An actor's job is to act, and I did my research, as any actor does. I bought a book of Spanish curse words during GUYS AND DOLLS rehearsal, so that I would improvise in the correct language. We watched documentaries about the Vietnamese war which included interviews of prostitutes so that we understood what was really going on in Vietnam at the time "The Heat is on in Saigon" starts MISS SAIGON. I never ever felt like a fraud because I was not of the correct racial background. You do not have to have lived it to be able to act it. What you do need is compassion and empathy to gain an understanding of what it would be like to live it, so that you can put yourself believably in someone else's shoes. This mentality served me well in London.
Then I moved to New York, and all of a sudden, it didn't matter how much research and preparation I would have been willing to do for a role. I was too Asian, not Asian enough, too mixed race, not mixed race enough, etcetera. I was everything but right. I'd go to a MISS SAIGON call and look too Caucasian. I'd go to a commercial casting for a mixed race part and everyone else there would be some sort of black mix. I wouldn't even bother going in for regional theatre seasons casting traditional musicals such as those by Rodgers and Hammerstein, because they would inevitably not be looking for someone who looked like me. I couldn't figure out where on earth I fit in. However, I still never saw my "look" and my heritage as something that made booking a job any harder for me than anyone else, and I never felt that I had less opportunities. Sure, there were many jobs for tall blonde dancers, but there were also many tall blonde dancers fighting for those jobs. When auditions came around looking for someone of my look, such as Liat in SOUTH PACIFIC, it reinforced my faith that it was just a matter of time before I walked into a room and was immediately "right" for a project. It was just a matter of time before the people sitting behind the desk had as much imagination as I had determination to work hard in any role I'd be given the opportunity to play.
After two years of not booking work other than a workshop here and there, that time came when I auditioned for Royal Caribbean's production of SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER. Again, I did not feel like a fraud when I learned I'd be playing the Italian Brooklyn-ite, Stephanie Mangano. I worked with an awesome dialect coach and got a tan, and, presto! I was Chinese-Jew turned gum popping Italian chick from Bay Ridge. Stephanie is a girl with big dreams of a life in Manhattan. How much more authentic could you get than me, the chick who packed up a life in London to move to Manhattan? It would have been a shame to lose out on the part because of my ethnicity. If the spirit is right, everything else can be worked around. I truly believe that.
So, what's my point? My point is that I feel very lucky that I have not experienced what many of my Asian counterparts do: that there are not enough roles written for Asian actors, and that there is not enough imagination to have Asian actors fill roles that are not specifically written for them. I do understand that I am set apart a little from this because I am half-Asian and have a very different look to someone who is fully Asian.That being said, I could not have been more proud to be a part of OKLAHOMA with a cast of supremely talented Asian actors, or believe more in the importance of the work that Baayork Lee et al. are doing to expand the vision of what the Asian community has to offer. Politics aside, I love to see shows that have colour blind casting, and that's not because I'm a Chinese-Jew, but because I love to see the world onstage reflect the world that is really around us. Who of my musical theatre generation didn't love Disney's colour blind casting of CINDERELLA starring Brandy as Cinderella, Paolo Montalban as the prince, Whoopie Goldberg as his mom, and Victor Garber as his dad? I didn't care for one second that the prince was Filipino, his mom African American, and his dad Caucasian. It is the opinion of this tiny Chinese-Jew that such diversity should not be limited to shows that are set in an imaginary world. I don't personally need actors to look alike if they are to convince me that they are a family and love each other a family. Case in point: 110 IN THE SHADE starring Audra McDonald whose stage family included a Caucasian dad and brother and an African American brother. Suspension of my disbelief in them as a family took no effort due to the stellar cast.
I don't want this blog entry to be about politics. It's a celebration of my belief that there is a place for everyone in this business, and that there are people willing to give Asian and half-Asian actors a chance at playing a multitude of roles. I must, of course, finish with a MATILDA anecdote: I shared a photo of the cast list on Facebook and my aunt commented that the list reads like a who's-who of the United Nations. I responded to her that we indeed have actors of all colours, shapes, and sizes in our cast. She commented that diversity is great in the theatre. It sure is, folks. Diversity is not only great, but important in the theatre. I am proud to be part of a show that, at any given snapshot of a moment, could look like an ad for the United Colours of Benetton!
Tomorrow night, Baayork presents an all-Asian production of HELLO DOLLY, and I look forward to supporting my Asian colleagues in their graceful step towards giving Asian-American actors a stronger voice within the theatrical community.
