Director

Kindra earned her MFA in Performance/Directing from Utah State University, where her training was largely informed by Stanislavsky, Adler, and Bogart’s Viewpoints. As a professional she has extensively studied Meisner, physical approaches to acting (Laban, Viewpoints, and Rasaboxes), and has trained in Fitzmaurice Voicework with Catherine Fitzmaurice in NYC. As an actor, most recently Kindra appeared as The Angel in Angels in America at Carolina Actors Studio Theatre. Other favorite roles include Hecuba in The Trojan Women, Lady Caroline in Enchanted April, Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors, and The Baker’s Wife in Into the Woods. She has directed over forty shows, and counts On the Verge, Spring Awakening, How We Got On, Southern Girls, Medea, The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, and The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) among her recent favorites.

Committed to the idea that theatre can challenge and change people's perceptions of themselves, others, and the world in which they live, Kindra infuses her work with compassion, a spirit of inquiry, community, and unadulterated discipline AND joy.

Kindra’s research interests are using physical theatre to heal trauma, Meisner, feminist theory and pedagogy, and how to use theatre techniques to engage in community discussions about difficult topics. Kindra has presented papers and workshops at state, regional, and national conferences, and is currently the Executive Director of SAGE Acts, offering theatre-based communication workshops.

To my mind there are three ways to learn: question, do, and fail. Of course, each of these has its own set of specifications and complications, but ultimately any one of them, taken together or separately, has the potential to teach. As a professor and a director, it is my job to facilitate the context that fosters any of the three to occur. It is also my duty to convey that failing is not the end of the intellectual or creative endeavor.

Engaging in the Socratic method both in the classroom and in rehearsal encourages an atmosphere of curiosity and critical analysis necessary for the discovery, teasing apart, and retention of ideas. Rather than encouraging students to find the “right” answers, I urge them to explore the various avenues by which they might arrive at the most useful questions. Inquiring why a character does what he or she does, or why liturgical drama was an effective tool to quell rebellion and dissent, encourages students to tap into their academic and reasonable minds. Helping students combine these two types of thinking is key to my approach. There are the facts and theories to contend with, and there is the rational mind to engage. Complex, critical thought comes from the marriage of the two.

To act is to do, and in studio courses, as well as in the rehearsal hall, it is important to do the work as often as possible. Structuring courses to afford students ample opportunity to practice the craft is often challenging considering time and resource constraints. In some ways, this is a gift to creativity. I am continually revising my course approach and content to better facilitate the actionable areas of my instruction. After several years, I have come to realize that student requests for more scene work were not just reflecting their need to perform; the doing is the thing that solidified the theory. Finding space for doing in my academic courses in the form of projects and presentations has had a positive impact on learning outcomes as well. Making sure to model and reinforce the importance of effective time management, in rehearsal and outside of it, balance, and regular scholarly exploration is integral in my approach to classroom interaction as well. Equally imperative is the creation of a safe space to challenge my students and myself.

Failing is not an embarrassment, nor is it a sign of weakness. It does not belie a lack of talent, and sometimes it is not even the result of poor preparation. Sometimes it just happens, and it is usually a catalyst for growth. I do not subscribe to the notion that instilling fear in students drives them to achieve. I am dedicated to openness, critical inquiry, and trust in the classroom. I prefer to empower students with knowledge and the permission to try, fail, and try again without risking censure. Students need to know that they will be held accountable for their failures, and they certainly do not want to repeat them, but if they accept my honesty, and are honest with themselves, I can help them benefit from having failed. Taking responsibility for shortcomings and missteps is a benchmark to achieving true professionalism and personal maturity, and I work to generate an awareness of that in my students.

My interdisciplinary background also gives me a unique opportunity to apply different lenses to course content. Scholarship on intersections of identity provides a challenging and satisfying counterpoint to the cannon and allows students to negotiate the spaces between privilege and oppression in the texts we study in theatre courses as well as within their own lives. Grappling with the big questions in an environment that allows for dissent and debate while fostering listening and respect is perhaps my greatest strength as an educator/director, and I am thrilled that students commit to that journey and engage in true discourse where they are actually listening to one another.

I have been fortunate enough to work with diverse groups of students in my career. Sometimes I have needed to adapt course material to meet the needs of the differently-abled, or work harder to ensure the tools and texts and language I’m using reflect the diversity in the room. This has sometimes required additional time and energy, but it has always paid off in more engaged and aware students, and a better sense of community across difference. I believe in the sacredness of ensemble; that everyone can feel imperative to the group but also be celebrated for their uniqueness. As a leader, I take my responsibility seriously to facilitate that kind of valuing of each contributor to the artistic process.