Today an interview with Christine Stoddard

“Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares”

This summer, Brooklyn Magazine named me one of its Top 50 Most Fascinating People, so that's not too shabby! While I'm from Virginia originally, I've been grateful to call Brooklyn home for the past several years. I'm a sucker for New York City and feel very tied to my communities here. I've wanted to live here all my life, though I did grow fond of Richmond, VA while studying at Virginia Commonwealth University. As an undergrad, I founded Quail Bell Press & Productions, which I still run today, and was named one of Style Weekly's “Top 40 Under 40” for my art and writing activities in Richmond. Quail Bell Magazine, the literary publication I started in college, still exists today and publishes submissions from around the world. The magazine had me writing stories, making short films, producing photo shoots, and authoring other works encountered by audiences around the world. It's something that will always mean so much to my journey as a young artist. 

Tell us about “Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares”...... How did the idea come to be?

This story is very loosely based on a combination of family and personal history mixed with time spent in Arizona. I was born to a Salvadoran mother and an American father, so that explains the play's bicultural grounding. Here's the lowdown: Maya, a young Salvadoran-American, navigates trauma and family mythology through magic, joy, and folklore as she comes of age in Phoenix. Her story explores mother-daughter relationships, mixed-race identity, being the child of an immigrant, growing up without a father, and using fantasy as a coping mechanism. Owls, jaguars, and cacti make dream-like and delightful appearances. This original drama is a memory play with heightened language, originating from a poetry book. The dialogue is majority English, with select Spanish lines and songs that can be understood from context without subtitles or interpretation.

In writing this play, I was drawn to grief and the different ways it manifests. There is the grief that comes from losing a parent, grief from watching a loved one suffer, grief from missing one's homeland as an immigrant, grief from disconnection from the motherland as the child of an immigrant, grief from growing up with an absent parent, grief from losing one's innocence and autonomy. But despite all of these challenges, we still need to make room for beauty, happiness, and gratitude as we can. Making room allows for joy. These are all ideas that are very present in “Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares.”
Tell us more about your experiences.

Because of Quail Bell Magazine, I got into independent book publishing and writing for national magazines not too long out of college. My title Hispanic & Latino Heritage in Virginia was my first non-fiction book and it's something that still gets me attention. Water for the Cactus Woman was my first full-length poetry book and also contains my photography. The book got attention from Ms. Magazine and The Poetry Foundation, which was pretty affirming when it felt like so many people told me I couldn't do it. More importantly, though, that book represents a lot of my early professional work on matrilineal relationships. That includes stories like “Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares,” whose poems appear in that book. Another book of mine that means a lot is Desert Fox By The Sea, a collection of short stories and narrative poems. It's out of print now because, sadly, the publisher closed down during the pandemic. Luckily, the book is carried by far more libraries than I would've guessed. It tickles me anytime I see it. I'm glad that my poetry and photography book Belladonna Magic is still making the rounds. There are other titles, too, and each one is special for different reasons. How do you choose a favorite child?

More Highlights!

Another highlight is my film Sirena's Gallery, my first feature, which is or will soon be streamable on Amazon, Tubi, Vudu, Hoopla, Roku, etc. It's about a woman running her art gallery during the pandemic. I filmed it as a solo and remote collaboration experiment while in residence at 1708 Gallery in Richmond during quarantine. What a time! My residency wrapped up just a week before the George Floyd protests. So I returned to Brooklyn right before Richmond made so much national news about the Confederate monuments. While I'm not sorry about missing broken windows and other damage downtown where the gallery is, I am a little sorry I didn't get to be part of the political action down there. Sirena's Gallery was a big feat for me and I'm excited to direct, write, and act in more of my own feature films. I love performing characters of my own creation, like Art Bitch, a character act I made for social media and comedy shows in New York City. You can follow her on TikTok/Instagram @artbitch100.

Painting is something I turn to whenever I need a mental break from writing, directing, and performing. It is calming. It also takes up less space than sculpture, which is a concern in a Brooklyn apartment. Nonetheless, I do consider it more than a hobby and a pursuit tied to my writing, filmmaking, and theatre-making. One painting highlight of mine was painting 17 murals in group homes during the pandemic. My next solo show is at the Queens Botanical Garden in December.

I am most proud of my creations and relationships with people who have created with me. But I am also very proud of my education. My mother's home country does not prioritize girls' education, so she always wanted me to take it seriously and I have. I earned my M.F.A. In Digital & Interdisciplinary Art Practice at The City College of New York, winning the university's highest award for further graduate study. As such, I am currently pursuing my M.A. In Oral History at Columbia University while completing the BMI Basics of Bookwriting musical theatre workshop. All of these educational opportunities have been or are extremely hands-on. My education has definitely afforded me the chance to self-produce a lot of my own work and navigate the world of grants and fundraising. This doesn't mean I'm not critical of institutions, of course, but that's a conversation for another time.

Greatest inspirations or influences?

In no particular order: Faith Ringgold, Frida Kahlo, Sally Mann, Gwendolyn Brooks, Wendy Red-Star, Patti Smith, Enya, Guadalupe Maravilla, Agnès Varda, Nan Goldin, Joni Mitchell, Sarah Ruhl, Diane Arbus, Kate Bush. I'm also drawn to Mesoamerica, Virginia, New York City, Art Deco, oral history, post-colonialism, digital technologies, folkloric art, and food.

Tell us about the visual aspects of your show. I am also especially interested to hear about the dream-like aspect.

It started with our director Fiamma Piacentini and her vision, which was guided by Latin cultural references, grounded largely in Salvadoran folklore and Indigeneity, with some darker, gothic aesthetics. She collaborated with our set designer Rodrigo Escalante, who is from El Salvador, and the lighting designer Jen Leno. Rodrigo's oversized, vintage-y flowers on the back walls of the stage have gotten a lot of attention. Fiamma made the costumes, partially altering pieces from the workshop run, and I designed props, using paper maché techniques my mother taught me in childhood. The dreaminess comes through in the writing, which is staunchly memory play territory, but Fiamma accentuated it. There are visions of jaguars, cacti, owls, and ancestors in the script. Fiamma found clever, alluring ways to have these visions appear and offset some of the uglier parts of the play with humor and cuteness. There's a storybook quality to them because they are based on Maya's memories and childhood exaggerations. Fiamma had me make masks for these figments in a style inspired by folkloric Salvadoran handicrafts. 

Anything else you would like to share?

My wonderful boyfriend Aaron Gold is the understudy for Father/Sheriff/Jaguar and I'm thrilled that he's getting the chance to perform! He had acted in a workshop excerpt of the play and it's great to see him be part of the full-length production.

"Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares," now running at The Tank theatre on W. 36th St. NYC