 Latinx, super friends, play right in our, I'm your host. It's Lalo Cribas, and he has Rogers here. We'll make you full screen for that next time. First thing I want to say is Black Lives Matter. Second thing I want to say is I'm really excited to have Brian Quijada here. I taught at the University of Iowa and Brian had left so we didn't get to meet until later on when he started to blow up in Chicago and New York, and now he's a bona fide, multi-faceted artist, and I invited him to share all his secret Jedi tricks, and I'm really happy to have you here. Brian, I'm going to hand it over to you. Yeah, oh my God, what an inch. Oh, thanks, man. It's good to be here. What's up everybody? Yeah, do you want us to keep you on time? Like, do you want us to tell you when it's like 45? I got, you know what, I got a look on the time, but yes, also for sure, I sometimes go on tangents, so keep me in check. Cool. Is everybody ready to go? Lovely. All right, here we go. Yeah. So my name is Brian Quijada. Quijada spelled with a Q, not a K, not spelled with an H, but a J, Q-U-I-J-A-D-A. Some teachers in school would try to pronounce my name, try to astound our class with their profound multicultural knowledge, only show our class that they probably didn't take Spanish in college. Let's try and give this a shot. Is it Quijada, Quijada, Al-Qaeda? No, it's not. But the attempt is much appreciated, and I'm a little less aggravated when some people mess it up, because when they fall in their face, it's up to me to pick them up. Now rest assured, they've endured a life of Latin-less names, but now everybody's mature. Time to know where the Quijada name came. You see, Quijada in Spanish means jaw. Means jaw. Brian jaw would be a hell of an easier name to pronounce, but I can't just go and announce that my name is Brian jaw. I mean, that'd be against law, unless I legally change my name to a name that's yes, a little more comprehensive. The legal process would be expensive. My parents would probably think it was offensive. Am I going to change my name to Brian jaw? Hell no. I can't separate the name. I can't split it like a tendon that's been ruptured. I'm happy to be from a family with a long line of strong facial bone structure. It's where we got our name. You know who's to blame? Well, I shouldn't say blame. You know who was the cause? The ancient jerk who went around pointing out people's flaws. This ancient jerk went around town making fun of people and went to my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather said, look at that guy. His jaw is huge, which probably made my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather a scrooge. He probably stayed at home, never left his place, never saw the sun because he was ashamed to show his face, would just sit at home and cry. Mekihara is so huge. He was an Italian. Well, I say that those tears shall not go unredeemed because having his descendants proud of his name is probably what my great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather would have dreamed. Now, I know that some of you on this Zoom might have it worse, stuck with the non-fanatic name curse, only properly pronounced in the old country. So here I sit virtually in front of you humbly, asking you not to be ashamed of your name. My name is Brian Kehada. Kehada spelled with a Q, not a K, not spelled with an H, but a J. This concludes my name poem. I wanted to kind of start off by doing this to not only, it's a nice way to introduce myself. It's also like kind of a poem that I wrote very early on. I wrote it in Iowa, speaking of Iowa. And it's kind of a piece that's kind of stuck with me and its form for a long time. To give you a kind of a brief, super brief description of how I'm sitting here, right talking, is I say that I'm an actor, musician, a playwright, and a composer. And I say it in that order because that's the order in which I've come to find these things. I started as an actor. It's all I did at Iowa. And then I'd like to do the new play festivals and then found myself pretty frequently at the National Playwrights Conference, the O'Neill Acting. And then I started writing. And then now I spend most of my time composing music for musicals. And now that I'm making a lot of music, I've come to realize how much of an impact music has made on my life, how much music has affected me from the very beginning. Music played in our house all the time. My dad listened to a bunch of boleros and mariachis and salsas and merengues. And it's awesome. My mom loved American rock. And we were huge hip-hop heads, me and my brothers. So music was always playing the house. And I was lucky that my parents, I was the last. I was the baby. So by the time they got to me, they didn't care what we were listening to. It could be curse word written. It didn't matter. We could listen to it. I watched Die Hard at like three years old. I don't even know if that's true. But it felt like I watched it very early on. I just wasn't censored. And I'm actually very fortunate that I wasn't censored because it just opened up from very early on listening to this wide vocabulary of music. But as I've kind of worked on music, I realized that music has played a huge part in all of my art forms. Even quite simply, I think about pitch and speed and dynamics and rhythm in speech. I think about it now a lot in music, obviously. But now I'm just like, oh, if my voice is super slow and almost staccato, it builds suspense and the pitch is low. So it's calm. And you're listening in and we're all really paying attention. And then as soon as I start picking up the speed and my pitch starts going up, you're just like, oh, my god, he's getting so excited. Oh, my god, so much emotion is just shown in the dynamics of how I'm speaking, in the rhythm that I'm talking in, and in pitch. It's crazy. And it kind of blown my mind now to really start focusing on music and seeing how those things really were tools that I hadn't quite defined as a performer. And it's really interesting how these kind of things all correlate. Anyway, I came to start writing because a lot of, I think, BIPOC artists we write because we don't necessarily see an avenue where we can see ourselves. I had a breakthrough moment composing a part for a middle-aged Latin dude or a young adult, I would say a young man, who sings and raps in a baritone bass voice. It's a big deal because I love musicals, but I could never be in them because I could never sing high. My voice is pretty low. So it's a pretty empowering thing to be able to write now parts that I would have loved to have played early on. But now that I'm working on music a lot and writing a bunch of music, there's a poetic form that I kind of want to introduce to you guys. Unless you guys already know it, but I was recently introduced to it and I'm just like, oh my god, so much is based on here. It's a poem. It's a villain alley. That's the form. With the Italian word, it was kind of made popular by a French poet who then kind of blew it up in England. So villain alley is basically, it's a very, very super specific rhyming pattern. But in its simplicity, if I could just simply put it, it's just a poem that recreates its chorus into a way that changes throughout the piece. So I'd like to read you a kind of very famous poem that I kind of reread recently. And I was just like, I knew about the poem before, but now given the times and what's happening in America, it kind of brings it even louder today. So I'm going to read it for you guys. Can we pull it up? All right, you got that? Yes, yes. So do not go gentle into that good night is the name of the poem by Dylan Thomas. Do not go gentle into that good night. Old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. The wise men at their end know dark is right because their words have forked no lightning. They do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by crying how bright their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight and learn too late, they grieved it on its way. Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men near death who see with blinding sight, blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, they are on the sad, height, curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Again, Dylan Tomas' poem, do not go gentle into that good night. So if you look at the structure of this kind of poem, it's a very super specific way of introducing a chorus at the very beginning and then throughout the piece, repeating pieces of it that then by the end, you experience the text in a completely different way. I love the form. I think it's awesome. I also think that this kind of form has in a way has been just adapted in what we consider to be like a pop song, a kind of verse chorus, verse chorus, verse chorus type of song, maybe a bridge in there, right? But it's a really effective one. And it's one that I've realized that I kind of have adapted and use as a rule of law, I mean, obviously with some liberties taken, even in thinking of applying this to like a whole play. I've a solo show called, Where Did We Sit on the Bus? It's named after a piece in the play about me in the being in the third grade and raising my hand and asking my third grade teacher during the lesson on civil rights and Martin Luther King where a Latino sat on the bus. And she couldn't answer the question and it kind of exploded my whole world and it led to me kind of exploring all these questions. The beginning of the play though starts with me proposing to my now wife and saying, how are we gonna raise this kid? I'm gonna, she's half Austrian, half Swiss and my parents are from El Salvador. So I'm like, what do I have? What's my half of what our child will eventually become and how will they identify? And then it goes into exploration of how I learned to identify myself and how I fit in a kind of very complicated racial landscape in America and how Brown fits in a black and white spectrum in America. So, but to me, looking at that piece as a whole play, that's the question, that's the thesis, that's the chorus is being like, what is the story that I will pass on to my child? And at the very end, it returns. So kind of like, if we kind of like look at this, what this poem does so effectively in telling you the chorus, telling you the thesis and then going through it, repeating this thesis, repeating this kind of thing that is at the crux of why we're doing this poem in the first place or why we're telling these stories or why we're doing this play. It's something that sticks with me. I'm gonna do another, I was telling that yesterday. I was just like, you know what, another good piece. Like this one isn't as well known, it isn't as famous, but there's another piece that I really love. My parents also really love this song. I'm gonna do it for you. I'm not gonna sing it, I'm gonna rap it because that's the medium that we're gonna do it in. It's called Cats in the Cradle. It's by Harry Chapin. The actual song goes, my child just arrived just the other day. He came through the world in a usual way, but they were planes to catch and bills to pay. Yeah, he learned to walk while I was away and he was talking for my new wit. And as he grew, he'd say, I'm gonna be like you, dad. You know I'm gonna be like you. Cats in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon. When you're coming home, dad, I don't know when but we'll be together then. You know we'll have a good time then. My son turned 10 just the other day. He said, thanks for the ball, dad. Come on, let's play. Can you teach me to throw? I said, not today. I got a lot to do. He said, that's okay. And he walked away, but a smile never dimmed. I said, I'm gonna be, it said, I'm gonna be like him. Yeah, you know I'm gonna be like him. Yeah, and the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon. When you're coming home, dad, I don't know when but we'll get together then. You know, we'll have a good time then. Well, he came home from college just the other day. So much like a man, I just had to say, son, I'm proud of you. Can you sit for a while? He shook his head and he said with a smile, what I really like, dad, is to borrow the car keys. See you later. Can I have them please? And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man on the moon. When you come in home, son, I don't know when but we'll get together then. Dad, you know, we'll have a good time then. I've long since retired and my son's moved away. I called him up just the other day. I said, I'd like to see you if you don't mind. He said, I'd love to, dad, if I could find the time. You see, my new job's a hassle and the kids have the flu and it's sure been nice talking to you, dad. Sure been nice talking to you. And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me, he'd grown up just like me. My boy was just like me. And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man on the moon. When you come in home, son, I don't know when but we'll get together then, dad. We're gonna have a good time then. Jesus, Jesus, he's even like reading it now. It's like, I have daddy issues. So like, I have a very weird connection to that piece, to that song. But it's kind of a very powerful and it's one of those songs that I think and like the umbrella of American songs. And I find it to be incredibly moving and a great kind of example of an adaptation of this Villanelle poem where that the poem repeats and I'm sorry that the chorus repeats, but it repeats in a way that alters the way that we experience the storytelling of that poem of that song. And I think it's incredibly powerful. And that's kind of how I've come to understand really my own kind of approach to writing, not only songs but writing plays is viewing them as viewing what I want to say in the piece as the chorus. What is the thesis that I'm approaching in saying, in whatever I'm saying? And how can I repeat that throughout the play so that we don't forget, even if we stray, we don't forget what we're talking about, whether it's like the story of a son and his father and how that relationship changes or whether like I can spell you my name to begin with just to introduce myself. And then at the very end of that poem, it's empowerment and spelling the name, each letter carries a different weight. Does that all make sense? Can I just get a good like thumbs up? Everybody's with me? Say, so what I'd like to do is I'd like to try here where we do an exercise where we kind of, I give you kind of like a super simple breakdown of like, again, like very down, like it's not, Villanelli is a kind of like a very complex form. And I think I've made a much simpler kind of prompt or kind of form to follow. Can we pull that up, please? Yeah, absolutely. There we go, we got it? Yeah, so it's a little writing exercise I'd like to try. Does everybody have like pen and paper or a computer? Or, I mean, you guys, I mean, we're on technology. Great. This is what I'd like to do is, so this is the form that we're gonna try and attempt here. The prompt is origin story. So that's what this piece is going to be about. Whatever this means to you, origin story, your origin story, somebody else's origin story, origin story is the prompt. You're gonna start this exercise with two lines. I've written AA in case you want to rhyme them. You don't have to, this is not like, you're writing raps, you're writing songs. But if you don't rhyme, consider that AA is a couplet, two lines that relate to each other, even if they don't rhyme. Followed by this chorus that will be the thesis of this origin story prompt. We're gonna go into the first verse, which is a couplet, BB, and then CC. Again, you can use that as a rhyming pattern. If not, just make sure that those two lines and the next two lines connect. You're gonna repeat the chorus right after that. The exact, you can either repeat it exactly the way it is or you could pull a hairy chappan. Chappan, is that how you pronounce his name? I don't know how we pronounce his name. Cats in the cradle, you could pull a cat in the cradle and kind of twist it a little bit and give it like a little edge, extra credit points if you can give it a little edge. Verse two is basically the same as verse one, it's just another two set of couplets, followed by a repeat of the chorus. Again, change it if you need to alter it or totally repeat it, but make sure that, if it is the same, that we experience the last chorus, the AA in a kind of a different way, with a different tinge, the way that we experience when you first said it or when you first wrote it or the way that we experienced the first two lines as it's read or spoken. Does that all make sense to everybody? Thumbs up? Sweet. Let's take like, let's take 15 minutes to try and pump something out and then we'll have like a couple of minutes to share if anybody wants to share it, but again, just focus on the writing for now. So 15 minutes, I'll play some music in case this helps anybody. Start finishing up and that's time. How was that? Thumbs up? It's awesome. Yeah, I've found that sometimes it's great to write to music and sometimes it isn't. I'd be interested in anybody's kind of experience in how writing was as chord progression changes and how even like dynamics in how I was playing some chords and how they started changing the dynamics, how that affected anybody. Does anybody have any thoughts? I don't know how to, I've never done this. Does anybody have like, is that possible raising of hands? I'm not gonna share what I wrote because it's like not finished, but I will say that just having the challenge of the structure was really great and to try to fill that in with everything that was kind of coming through with the sound was really, was really awesome. Awesome. If Pithya will let you, will you tell folks if they wanna share and? Yeah, absolutely. We've been using the raise hand function it's down at the bottom if you hit participants there should be a blue hand. If you don't see it, there's little dot dot dot, you hit that and then there should be a blue hand. And if you don't see it at all, go ahead and toss it in the chat and I will do my best to unmute people as quickly as we can. First one is Liyana. Oh, I have an ask to unmute Tom here. Yeah, we got you. Cool, let's just go for it. Sharon? Yes, yes, yes, please. Okay, sure. Viviana, full of life they tell us. It's different as hell you see. Equal or MPA, where do I fit? I see different colors all my life. Always the brown girl who couldn't sit. Tell me who I am because trust me, I don't know shit. Viviana, full of life they tell me. The two worlds don't allow me to be. So God, if you're there, fix this because even I don't think I belong on this list. Brown girl, go back where you're from. But what if where I'm from is too much to become? Viviana, full of life they tell me. Where do I fit? Because trust me, I don't know me, see. Thank you. Beautiful. We have Brenda next. I've let a lie and I don't really know where to begin. I have to admit it, I don't know my origin. I claim to know my heritage, where I come from, pretending and declaring my love where my father came from. But through my statements of pride, I've walked a fine line not really knowing the meanings and the colors of our vines. I've let a lie and the problem is I don't know where to begin. I embarrassingly admit it, I'm scared to know my origin. I want to know my cultural history and connections but it reminds me of my father who butchered our relations. Why is chuko called chuko? Is it chuko? Why do I look white? The more I find, the more I separated, I feel in my birthright. I don't know my origin, but I want to love the beginning. I have to admit it. I know a lot more of my origin than when I stated it. Beautiful. Thank you. Quijada, chuko. Are you Salvadoran? I am. What? Are we related? Okay, so I know Jeanne Darling and she hired me to be a solo performance for California State University summer arts program and she told me she knew you and asked me if we're related and I don't know. Wow. We need to do one of those like swab things. We need to find out our ancestry. That's amazing. Nice to meet you. Beautiful work. Thank you. Thank you for sharing. This isn't over. We're gonna need to find you and figure this out. Yeah. Next up, we have Amanda. The working title for this is gonna be Big Bang. That's what I think. Awesome. You want to get inside me, but I cannot accommodate. There is no vacancy here. If you wanted to fill me, well, I am a void if you try too hard to change my nature, I will swallow you and spit out stardust. You want to get inside me, but I cannot accommodate. This implies comfort with the idea that I am a yawning, empty thing on my own, that you are a guest, not a meal, sustenance for my infinite expansion. You want to get inside me, but I cannot accommodate. Beautiful. Thank you. Alexis. Hello. Also, Brian, I'm repping the O'Neill. Yes! Me too! I'm repping it on my head. You can't tell because it's black on black. Yes. Yes. All right. So in O'Neill fashion, I popped off a little bit. Don't speak Spanish? Tú no mexicana? You should need have to learn your language, muchacha. Whose fault is it you don't speak Spanish? Tu abuela? She taught me more than a language if you want to blame someone, blame Dora. I started running out of excuses and got creative and said my parents messed up and taught me French or German or even Arabic. I grew up with kids who thought they were stupid. The I'm afraid to speak kind of stupid. The wheels turning in their head as they try to translate to their parents with a DMV worker, cashier, et cetera, just said. Speaking Spanish at home, broken English at school. At that age, language shouldn't be an obstacle. It's a tool to express their ideas, paint pictures with imagination, not to be the transition period of their parent assimilation. No speak Spanish? Tú no mexicana? You may be brown on the outside, but you're a coconut mija. So you say because I don't speak Spanish, I'm not Mexican, but that's just a start. We've got to dive deeper if you're trying to take away my brown card. I hate tequila. I've never been to Mexico. Actually back up, tequila hates me. Screaming, I've got to get out of this white girl as it jumps out of me. Yeah, I don't speak Spanish. I roll my r's, I dance bachata, but I don't speak Spanish. I love red lipstick called jewelry. Watch telenovelas growing up, but didn't understand a word because I don't speak Spanish. I grew up in fear of La Llorona getting pregnant before 16. I don't have to speak Spanish to know what La Changpla means. Don't tell me who I am because of what I do or don't speak. Look, if you want to nitpick my vocabulary, it's very colorful, believe me. No speak Spanish, I'm still a Latina and you're not my grandma, so don't call me mija. Pop off. Yes, thank you, beautiful. Thank you so much. Hell yeah. Solana. Aha, I can't follow that, but I was playing with the idea of like being mixed because that's something I feel like, for sure. Oh, this. Writing along, you sit in the middle, they take so much and they give you so little. Looking around, you watch them all go to each of their sides wondering how they know. You can't pick a side, you can't play that part. You love both sides with all of your heart. Walking along, you sit in the middle. They take so much and give you so little. You give them what they need to see and finally they just let you be, but you go beyond what it was ever expected, never fearing that you'd be rejected. Running along, you slide from the middle. Being much more, no longer so little. Finally winning something they'd never know, finding yourself needing more room to grow. You make a plan and you plot the course, you say your goodbyes, leaving without any remorse. Gliding along, you break from the middle. You're taking up space, never letting yourself be given so little. Beautiful, thank you. Hell yeah. Marilo. Mine's very, very different than everybody else's. Great. The lake stampede, they came before the earth and the sun arrived. And in the night, the voice sang in her song of despair, she wanted others to arrive. The lake stampede, they came before the earth and the sun arrived. There were no others to hear her. No one will listen. Not the fastest horse will ease her loneliness. The lake stampede, they came before the earth and the sun arrived. On the road of our defeat, we shall wander, wander. On the road of our defeat, we shall wander. Love it, thank you. Beautiful. Shelly. Hey. Hello Shelly. Good to see you, Ryan. You too. My friend's baby is crying in the background, so I apologize for that. That's great. Yeah, welcome, George. First gotta say, thank you for holding this space, y'all. I've been to a lot of Zooms in the past couple of weeks that have been meditations for Black Lives and they're super beautiful, but I always leave feeling really heavy and your music was really healing for me, so thank you. Thank you. Yeah, okay. They met at a jazz fest on the Hartford Green. His camera caught a picture of her by the carousel. Destiny, if you know what I mean. Just years after interracial marriage, but it became legalized. She ran from Crosby, Connecticut, while stars in his eyes. New Orleans became their home and magical escape, but Black magic and voodoo blood couldn't predict their fate. They met at a jazz fest in a summer heat. Black and white babies would make them complete. Grandma, Black on the one side of the railroad tracks. Grandma, White couldn't face the facts. That love prevails. Hoo, and dreams can come true. Cancer, liquor, greed really played them fools. They met at a jazz fest on the Hartford Green, but his camera didn't catch her death in the lens of their dreams. Beautiful, thank you for sharing. Thank you. Amazing. That's what we got for raised hands. Anybody having trouble with the raised hand function wanna share? Go ahead and unmute yourself, yeah. Great, is that? Jennifer, did you? Sure, yeah, thank you. Thanks. Yeah, I was having trouble with the raised hands. Cool. Grew up white with a Latino father. Called me mijo, said demo, but it caught in Iowa slaughter. Reunions con la familia taught me who I am, belong, drives home, turn the Pachangas to a distant hymn. Fleabag, fill, flip, bleepay. Fuck it, I can't say your name, man, so just fucking play. Grew up white with a Latino father. Called me mijo, said demo, but it caught in Iowa slaughter. When the kid wanted friends, white faces laughing. Me undercover but letting stabs slice, just keep passing. Not a kid, wanting friends, white faces laughing. Fuck a friend, feelings head, times with an Ecuadorian father. Papa, now you see me, but I gotta see me. Hasta luego, white slaughter. Thank you, thank you, beautiful. Was that the last hand? I think so. It's like again. All right. It's amazing, thank y'all for sharing. It's awesome, like an exercise like that can like, I mean like origins, I mean, you learn so much from people and thank you for the shared and it's a great thing. It's a great thing. It also reveals the power of repetition, right? Yeah, totally. Not just in words, in movement and sound, but just, you know. Totally, I mean, you see us in emotions and. Absolutely. In how you can really flip it as a writer, you can actually like take that audience on that journey and you have like, I feel like, you know, those first two stanzas you write or the chorus, it's like really grounds you in what, what kind of world you wanna evoke and then it kinda sets the template for the rest of it to kind of go in different, you know, tributaries. Exactly. But somehow come back to it, that like somehow find your way back. It's like, it's like the story of a journey, right? Going in a circle, it's finding your way back and it's like, you know, the odyssey, you know, it's like on your way to come back home. Let's see. Oh, the Greeks came into this conversation. All right, this is now, can we go into Q and A? Can we ask you? Let's go. All right, first question is Brenda, your cousin, no, I'm kidding. No, no. Anybody wants to ask any questions? Brian, go ahead. Yeah, we got one from Vienna, it looks like. Hi, thank you so much for being here today. It really means a lot. Thank you. Yeah, of course. So right out of college, you went to Iowa. Where was like your process? I just graduated college last year and obviously with the pandemic and everything else going on in our global climate right now. It's a little frustrating to see where our careers are gonna go and like where to take the next steps are. So I was just wondering how your process was after school. Yeah, I mean, so I went to Iowa and Iowa pumps out a lot of playwrights. Really great playwrights that come out of Iowa. So I happened to go to school with Idris Goodwinge and Silverman, Tony Meneses, Kevin Artig, Sam Hunter had just graduated. So I kind of had a network of the people that I went to school with and with Iowa. The first, speaking of the O'Neill, the first few times that my first three summers at the O'Neill were working on play that I had worked on in college with college friends. I consider college and my friends from school like lifelong collaborators. I mean, it's a moment where like those friends are the ones that like we leveled out. Like, you know, like we all learned together. There was not a lot of egos and it's just like, we're all here, we're all in an educational institution together. So like we all came out of their equals and it was, I stuck to the people that like I love making work with and it just so happened that some of them blew up and I was just kind of an actor in their plays. And so I just kind of went along for the ride. But like, I'm kind of a huge, I'm like proponent of like, you know who your community is, right? Like, you just graduated, yes. I mean, given the state of the world, there's a lot of uncertainty, but you know that the people that you trust and you love to look over your work or to like make things with are still those people. And those are the people, like you're all, like there's a generation as everybody who graduates from school, it's like the next generation. It's like the next movement of people to bring new work into the world. And I think that's really exciting, you know? Like, regardless of what the world, you know, it's, the world is pretty crazy, but like there's something beautiful and like sticking with your, the people that you know, your friends. And eventually like, it just trickles out, like this person knows this person and you're like, oh my God, this world is really, especially the theater world is so small. It's tiny and you just get that way if you, you know, if you keep making the things that you love with the people that you love, I think you'll find your way. And that's what I did. I just kind of found my way through, through being with my friends and my collaborators. Yeah. That's awesome, thanks so much. Yeah. Shelly, hello again. Hey. So I guess that kind of goes in line with my question. I have a solo show that I've been working on for a long time now. And I've gotten to share it in some way or another, like through readings and things, but like the doors have yet to be opened for me to share it like on a larger scale. And I guess now's the time, right? Like we don't know where theater is gonna go and maybe it'll end up being like a virtual share. But how did you, how did you start? Like where did we sit on the bus? Where was it first produced? Who did it? Do you have their number or like can we get this going? That's amazing, yes, yeah. I first, I first did it with Datorista and then from that point, Datorista were like the first people that believed in the show and we did it. And they were like, they took a chance on somebody who had never been produced before. Like a brand new play, it was my first play and they took a chance and we got amazing reviews and like we sold out the run and it was really, I'm really proud of the fact that like the show, like it was a success and it led to moving off Broadway and then I've been doing it for five years all around the country, but it was them that first believed in me. I submitted my, I submitted my solo show. I think I would say what I would say is, and you probably have already, but like submitted everywhere to every like organization that like not only develops the Rick Seven Devils Playwrights Conference, the O'Neill, the National Playwrights Conference. I mean, the thing that I first submitted it to was Solo Nova, which unfortunately doesn't exist anymore in New York, but I submitted it everywhere to everyone. I let everybody read it and, but that's like what I will say when I first started writing it, that is something that I kind of still stick with and I think it's important to me to stick with this ideology as somebody, well, Idris Goodwin, who's a good friend and mentor of mine. I was in his, I was an actor in, his was the very first play. I was called How We Got On. It was the first play that I went to the O'Neill with, with his play that we went to school together. So I kind of came up with him. I mean, as an actor, I saw him like kind of rise to, the playwright that he is now. And he said something really interesting to me is he's just, he's just like, I think starting out, you have to write something that you envision being able to be done out of the garage or in a basement. You have to make things that doesn't require, like you could do on a budget, like on a shoestring budget. Like, and I've kind of, bus requires my equipment and like a table for me to put it on, my solo show. It requires just a speaker basically and my instruments. And it's kind of born out of this idea. A lot of my plays are kind of born out of this idea that like if you can make something that you feel you can do anywhere, like that you can just set up shop and do it on the street, like do it, like open up your garage, like do it a virtual performance, like power to accessibility. Like I think that's amazing. I think it's a beautiful thing. I think personally, I think some of the best theater in America is being done in the cafeteria of a college campus. You know what I mean? Like the basement of Heist, like I really do think that like amazing, amazing work that maybe the great forgotten work, it doesn't matter, but like some of the most powerful work that's being done and affecting like the people that are affects, if it's not like, you know, I mean, yes, there's something of like, yes, I want the whole world to see it. But like there's something to me that like drives me and like lights a flame in me that is just like, I have plays that nobody's ever seen before. And like, and that's okay. Like I know that the people that have seen it is like it's affected. You know what I mean? I kind of have that principle of being able to do it just for your community is really powerful and important. So yes, there is, that's the big and like that. That's like the philosophy along with like the actual, you know, how-to steps I would say, but I want to see your solo show. Duh, let's do it. Thank you. Just to add on to that, I think there are just a number of festivals that are going online anyway. So submit to them cause- Also solo work is going to be the thing that old theater, it's the only thing that theaters can do. Yeah, I know. It's like- Well, you can write a play with everyone being six feet apart, but you- Exactly, exactly. So, Shelly Fort, I have a question for you. Are you related at all, or do you know Lydia Fort, the director? I know of her. I would get in touch with them cause they teach, she and I went to the same grad school. She's now at theater, Emory University. I would just say, hey, we have the same last name, but Shelly, I'm sorry, Lydia is based in Atlanta, so I don't know where you are, but just tell her I said, I said you and it'll be fine. Cool, thank you. Right, who's next? Yeah, we have Anasofia, you are unmuted. Yeah, thank you. Thanks for being here to talk with us. Yeah, absolutely. So I watched a performance of, where do we sit on the bus at KCA CTF? Yes. About four years ago? Yes. And I was attending a predominantly white college and competing in the directing sector of that festival with the Jose Rivera play. So that was exciting with being on this a couple of weeks ago with him. And that was incredibly meaningful cause I was feeling very isolated and there was a lot of discussions about style and magical realism. That was very hard to hear in that time. It was very isolating. Anyway, so your play meant so much to me. I think I was actively trying not to have like snot and tears running down my face. I was not successful. Oh, that's great, thanks. But thank you for that. But I remember thinking, you didn't answer the historical question of where did we sit on the bus? And maybe you did and I just didn't recall it or maybe that was an earlier version, but I would really love to hear you speak to that, especially given the Black Lives Matter movement and what that means for Latin Xs. I mean, particularly after Latin Xs, but for all Latin Xs and Latin X theater makers, where do we sit on the bus in this kind of landscape of American theater? Yeah, that's a great question. I do answer it, I basically say, no, no, no, it's okay because I think the big back and forth of answering that question to full depth was being like, cool, am I going to, I mean, yes, I named the show, where did we sit on the bus? But I think it's like, the history is in the books. But I say in the play that we would have, I'm just like, your mom would have sat in the front and your dad would have sat in the back. Because historically, it's white and colors, right? Like, so we would have sat in the back. The thing that I'm unpacking in this time is kind of still how I, like colorism is a real thing. And I understood, like I am beginning to unpack kind of like as this continues and Black Lives Matter for sure, it's like I am recognizing that some people think I'm a white guy, you know? And what that means and the privilege that that has gotten me. I mean, I've also been like doing my own, like how systemic racism has affected me, but also on the other end of being like, what can I do to help here? And I think it's a very complicated question because as I was doing my research, I was asking myself, okay, Brian Quijada, born right before the civil rights movement, gets on the bus, where would I actually, like where were the, like, could I potentially sit in the front? Could I? Like, this is some like just deep, like kind of, you know, questions that I'm asking myself now of like being like, man, would I have like, what I have passed? Cause that's really what it is, is that like, you know, there was a lot of, like a really rich Mexican, a really rich Spaniard or a European descent comes to the United States, they were treated like a white person, you know? They were treated with respect and not like a black person. So it's, yes, like colored people, all like BIPOC people would have been sat in the back, but there is something deeper to unpack now, I think as we're experiencing this movement is this additional question to it, which is a really healthy and good thing, I think to think about. And what that means, I mean, I think since that play came out five years ago, I have, I've not changed a single word. And every time I do it over the years, like that play was written and premiered during an Obama administration. And I do a play about immigration and I've done it in red states and I've done it like key points of 45s kind of presidential career and it totally changes. And I think as I do it, people's perception of it also changes as long as my own kind of understanding of re-answering that question for myself. It's a great question. And it's like, we could, I could probably talk about it for 45 minutes. I mean, an additional 45 minutes. We can have another hour on this. Yeah, exactly. But that's a great question. And I'm so happy that you saw it kind of in its early, early days. Yeah, me too. Thank you. Yeah. It's great to meet you. You too. Next one's from Amanda. Hi. Hi. I come from a music background and I'm an undergrad, I'm a noob to theater and like playwriting and all this stuff, honestly. And so I was so, it's so interesting to hear you talk about composition and writing and Linda, you picked up your guitar in our playwriting class and started brought that into the space. And first of all, thank you for that. That was incredible. And second of all, I see a lot of like full length plays with songs now by specifically, I'm thinking like women of color, playwrights, sexism play, and Karajad Svić and stuff like that. And so like thinking about how music is involved in our stories somehow or like bringing it into like this weird like cross genre thing that's not fully a play and not really a musical either. And like if you have thoughts about that, this is like not a really great like well-thought out question. I just kind of want to hear you talk about this. Yeah. I mean, I do a lot of, I do a lot of a live looping in my shows, which is kind of them using technology to repeat a piece of music over and over again and building on top to create a composition. There is turntablism that I use in plays, just like straight up scratching and like finger drumming, which is like usually on an MPC, which is an eight by eight squares, each square rep like is a sound. So it's like and kind of trying to involve really some of my favorite forms of making, I don't know specifically hip hop, I'll be honest, but also like, and the reason I think I'm kind of drawn to it is because music, seeing live music to me is so powerful. It is so emotive, like it's, I can leave a concert and feel on cloud nine. I can leave a concert and be like, oh my God, that music spoke to my soul. There could be no lyrics in it, but I'm like so moved by live music and like by its artistry. I'm not a huge fan of like, like as a screamo music or like super, like you're like really crazy rock and like kind of the, I'm not super into it, but if I would go watch that all day, any day, I'm credibly impressed that they're not blowing out their voices. There is a beautiful technique to screaming music like that. And I don't, the guitarists that are so much, like there is so much better than I am on guitar. So like there is something to the artistry of music that is captivating to me. And I love seeing it. I mean, it's a different, it's a different thing. Like you could listen to a Beyonce album and then you go see her live and you're like, what? This is a completely different experience. And I think that's what it is. That's like the draw of it. And I think that's why I love doing it. And I'm sure why artists, other artists, you know, also love doing it is because watching the music along with what that music can do just orally is a different experience. And it's so powerful. I don't know if that answers your question, but that's why I like it. I have a question, so. No, no, no, no. I think it's great. Yeah, yeah. It was great. Like that was, yeah. Thank you. Yeah, no problem. Another one from Brenda. Hey. Hey. Hey. What's up? So, I have a question for you in regards to how you feel in trusting directors to do your, like help you work and direct your solo performance. Have you, like, what do you look for? Have you had a director look at your stuff and what does that relationship look like when you have your own personal stories and history coming into it and then a director who might come in and, you know. Oh, yeah. There's a fine line. It's a tough, it's a tough, like, I think for a playwright, selecting a director is very difficult and I've had, like, it's a lot like you're investing in a relationship, I think. It's a lot like dating. It's very, like, cool, do we have the same values and, like, how are we gonna, like, walk together? You know, like, how are we gonna do this together and I don't know that I agree with you on that but, like, I'll bear with it because I love so many other things that you do. You know, it's very, like, it's, it's soup, it's a very, very tight relationship and it's tough for me, I tend, like, I have, I kind of, I've worked with a bunch of directors and not just solo pieces but, like, another piece as well and it's like, what are the values that I really think are important for this part of the process? And if, and, like, if, like, that is no longer the case for the next part of the process then, like, we have to break up, you know what I mean? Like, it's like, it didn't work out. Not for, like, any reason, you know, it's not about you, it's about me, you know? It's like, it's, it's, in some cases, like, I'm just like, cool, especially, like, early on, it's, I very much align with directors who can nurture me dramaturgically and guide me in a way that I know the story will be guided, as opposed to, like, cool. Now, like, this director is, like, just talking about design elements and I haven't even finished it, you know what I mean? Or, like, it doesn't feel complete to me. That is not an alignment of values of where I think the play is in its current process, you know what I mean? And that's the thing, is that, like, if I can talk to it, if I'm working on something that's, like, ready to be done and then we start talking about design and what the, I'm just like, yeah, let's go, you know what I mean? Or, like, or if I'm, like, ready to go and the director's just like, yeah, like, we need to rewrite everything. I'm like, oh snap, it's not gonna work out, you know what I mean? Like, I think it's so much, like, it's actually, like, getting to know the person and how you align with whatever you need. I did a festival, it was called the Baltic Playwrights Festival that was in association with the O'Neill. And it was, like, like, five different teams and from different countries and we were the American team. And I went to go see the Russian, I sat in on some Russian rehearsals and got to see their performance. And it's all about the director over there. The director was, like, making cuts in the play and I'm like, oh my God, what, good luck doing that in America. Like, you couldn't do that, that's like the cardinal rule. Like, we say that the playwright is the American backbone. And, but it's a totally different thing. So, like, that relationship is a different one. And that play was beautiful, I will also say, that Russian play, I'm just like, oh my God, I couldn't believe that he did that. But it also turned out to be a really great thing. It's just a different dynamic that it is here. And I think it's interesting to note for that in talking about the playwright relationship with the director is that it's not necessarily the same everywhere else. But here, my experience with it has been that I want to feel nurtured as a writer, as the creator, yeah, as the being, bringing, birthing the piece. So, I hope that's good advice. Yeah, and I get to that segue. I think my next question would be, how do you know when it's done? When you feel, oh, you know, this is, because I feel like I always get told, this is great. And then I always personally am like, no, this is not enough, or this is not ready. I can't really ever differentiate when it's ready. It's a great question. I, another great piece of advice that was given to me by my good friend, Idris Goodwin was, somebody was just like, okay, cool, are you gonna start changing where did we sit on the bus? And it was kind of, you know, I'm like, do I kind of adapt it a little bit to make it a little more relevant, or whatever, blah, blah, blah. And I was talking to him about it, and he's just like, when a musical artist drops an album, that musical artist does not go back, take off a track, off a Spotify, adjust it, and then put it back in there. When there, you've reached like a level of like, you're just like, I think it's complete. And like the team that I'm working with right now thinks it's complete, and it's time to be released, you release it. And if you have more kind of thoughts, you drop your next album, you know what I'm saying? Like it's something beautiful about being like, cool, all right, what didn't I say? Or like, what fixes couldn't I have done? Or like, yes, there's something, I mean, people listen, this is my philosophy too, of being like, to me, I have to feel like something is complete. That's not the case for other people. People rewrite there. People, I mean, I also respect that too. Luis Alfarro, we were working on Erepes el Rey at the public. He's done that play a million times. That play has been done so many times. We did it in New York, and he rewrote it. And I think that's awesome. I'm just like, holy moly, that's amazing. That dude never finishes rewriting his book. That guy just continues, and I respect that as well. So like, there's different philosophies, for sure, about rewrites. To me, I've stuck to like being like, this chapter, I can reflect on, I can look at where do we sit on the bus. Same text, and be like, cool, this is the play that I wrote and completed in 2016. This is what my headspace was at then. And it's totally different now, but I've been writing new things that reflect an evolving artist, an evolving chorus, a thesis. So that's my two cents, but I'm sure people have their, I mean, Luis, if you talk to Luis, he has a different response. Thank you. Cool, Brian. With that, I think we have to end because it's like quarter after now, but thank you so much for the extra time. Flu-bye! Flu-bye! So where can people get ahold of you, and if they wanna write you, like send you a question, or like, do you have any handles? My website is where, I mean, Facebook, right? The book is, everybody's on the book. I feel like, well, not so much. I think people are beginning to escape because they're realizing that Facebook is evil. But I'm on the book and I'm also, my website, if you're just like, what's going on? I mean, my website right now clearly has nothing because it's the pandemic and nothing is going on. But it's typically where I put all upcoming projects and activity, which is just Brian Quijada, Puntokom. Brian Quijada of the jaw. But Brian of the jaw, Brian jaw. Yeah, yeah. Cool, man. Brian, thank you so much. Thank you so much for having me, everybody, and for sharing and kind of going along in this awesome ride. I appreciate it. Can we unmute everybody and just say goodbye? Yeah, everybody should be able to unmute yourselves. Oh, unmute yourselves, folks. Bye! Bye! Yeah, yeah, there we go, right? Oh, thanks so much, y'all. Thanks for being here. You got a place to hang your head. If you drop up, if you're going to Iowa and you need to stop in Pittsburgh, you can hang out with us. That's right. Let's go pirate. Amazing. We'll go back to the Tiki Bar. That's right, man. We gotta go back there. Can I play some of the dinner on a piece? Bye. Bye, everyone. Thank you. Bye, Tia. Bye.