Meet Carol Ann Tan | Theatre Director & Dramaturg

We had the good fortune of connecting with Carol Ann Tan and we’ve shared our conversation below.
Hi Carol Ann, what led you to pursuing a creative path professionally?
Honestly? Growing up in Singapore, all I wanted was to play Christine in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera. (I know.) But when I moved to the United States, I realized that I was having a lot of trouble getting cast in shows. I don’t even mean professional productions; at this stage, I was only going out for productions at my college, which frankly felt worse. I couldn’t tell how much of it was because I just wasn’t very good, or because of how I looked and how I sounded. Now I think it was probably a combination of both, but back then I was too close to the whole thing. I ended up not really liking who I was, not in some emo teenage sense, but in the fundamental sense of hating your own identity—the aspects of yourself that you simply can’t change.
It was right around this time that the Singaporean culture group on campus approached me and asked me if I’d write and direct their annual show. I was going to decline—it sounded like a lot of work for very little payoff—until they said they’d let me do whatever I wanted, and they had a lot of money to fund that “whatever.” Well, then. So I did not one, but two different shows for them. I realized that I’d been offered an opportunity to make a space on the American stage for the people who looked and sounded like me. And I started feeling a little more responsible, not just for what I wanted to do, but also what I needed to do.
After college, I admit I tried to do a few other things to make money, but somehow I would always come back to the theatre—or the theatre would find me again, I’m not sure. So that’s how it went. I think a part of me is still always in pursuit of that spark I felt when I was 12, when I watched Phantom of the Opera for the first time and felt like magic was happening right in front of my eyes. The show’s not perfect but it rewired something deep inside me, something I can’t just explain. I’d like to give that gift to someone else.
Alright, so let’s move onto what keeps you busy professionally?
A lot of ink has been spilled discussing the general challenges of working in the theatre industry—low pay, long hours, oversaturated with talent, almost everyone is underemployed—so I won’t beat that dead horse further. What I will say is that, as a director, I’ve come to learn that my point of view is what sets me apart, but cultivating and honoring that point of view has been challenging.
When I first started working professionally, I felt that it was really important for me to continue telling Singaporean stories on an American stage. But I soon realized that, at the early-career stage, finding the right collaborators to tell these Singaporean stories with was nearly impossible. As it turns out, there are very few Singaporeans living in America who are trying to work in the theatre (shocking, I know), and Singaporean culture—in particular, our local slang Singlish—is extremely hard to explain to Americans, not to mention extremely hard for Americans to learn. I didn’t want to produce some watered-down version of my country to Americans; they couldn’t tell the difference, but I could. Besides, while living in America had made me hyperaware of my differences, I came to realize that I didn’t want to be defined by my differences.
Today I am interested in exploring how we might survive the absurdity of a post-pandemic society. Basically, I am serious about making unserious work. I want to make people laugh (because everything has been so ridiculous since 2020), and then feel sorry that they ever laughed at all (because everything has been so ridiculous since 2020). Of course, I’m also still interested in telling Singaporean stories—but I reckon, that’ll come through anyway because I’m making it and I’m Singaporean, right? It’s an aspect of me that simply is. So how can I invite my collaborators to build on top of that, in a way that we are all able to bring our full selves to the space? It’d be nice to feel we have the space to laugh till we cry—both during process and product.
Any places to eat or things to do that you can share with our readers? If they have a friend visiting town, what are some spots they could take them to?
Ohhh, I only just moved here this past June so I don’t know the city incredibly well just yet (plus I live in Brooklyn). But my favorite pastime is eating, so there would be a lot of eating involved. If budget wasn’t an issue, I’d probably include some of my BK faves like Miss Ada or Shan. If we wanted to keep costs down, I’d take them to Queens/Flushing and just do a day-long food crawl there. For our digestion walks, we could check out some museums or make our way through the High Line.
Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
I’d dedicate this to my parents, because we come from a country and culture that has a very narrow definition of success (Doctor/Lawyer/Engineer/Accountant, Married With Kids, Stable Income) and yet they have always supported my choices, even when those choices are financially dubious and practically delusional. Let’s just say it would’ve been a lot harder if they hadn’t. So thanks, mom & dad.
Website: carolanntan.com
Instagram: @_catsw
Facebook: facebook.com/tswcarol
Image Credits
Kat Moraros, Marisa KM, Mark Turek, Erin X. Smithers