Directing is a Privileged Act of Service. 

I create space for people to feel brave enough to speak their truth. I uplift the creativity and talents of artistic communities I get to curate. I empower and rally everyone to generate their best towards a unified vision. I inspire and lead from the heart, mind, and soul, so that my teams build agency and trust, and truly collaborate.

I am drawn to stories that uncover hidden histories and celebrate community, combating our rapidly evolving relationship to technology and globalization. I’m inspired by everyday people of marginalized experiences, including my family, who raised me to take pride in our Koreanness, taught me to honor the ancestors, and reminded me to have gratitude for our ability to still gather, follow traditions, and make new memories.

I direct so that I can remind us that we won’t always have the words to communicate as clearly as we want, but it is always worth trying to understand. My childhood years of curiously absorbing K-POP and Korean culture without fully knowing the language taught me this. We are capable of connection using all of our senses, even when we don’t have words. It is worth seeing people that live and exist differently than us on stage, so that we can more easily accept one another.

My vision is a bridge between the script – its ideas and intentions – with the outside world – my and my audience’s experience of existing in this current moment. After reading a play several times, I create music playlists and visual collages. I reflect on conversations I have with friends about our lives, the news, pop culture. Again, I tap into all of my senses. I don’t always have the words to say what I’m feeling. For design meetings and auditions, I aim for passionate clarity in what I know, and honesty for what I don’t know yet. 

In rehearsal, I have a toolbox of acting, classical music, directing, and party-hosting techniques that root in 360-degree listening, and following my curiosity for the unexpected. I’m particular with rhythm, flow, patterns, and structure as elements we establish and later rebel against. Once we open house and let the audience in, it’s like my family’s place. You’re following OUR rules (shoes off!) and eating authentic Korean American home-cooking (allergies don’t exist). It’ll be bold and new, but trust that we will take the best care of you