The phrase, “show me your friends and I’ll show you your future” most definitely applies to Abby DePhillips. There is not a person you ask who doesn’t have only glowing things to say about her kindness, her work ethic, and her intelligence. She has mastered the art of being on Broadway without being on Broadway just yet, surrounding herself with a community of close friends who happen to be New York’s finest Broadway performers. But to Abby, these are simply the people who made New York seem more like home: she refers to them as, “her older brothers and sisters.” I consider myself lucky that one of those older brothers brought Abby into my life. While I had known of Abby as a performer back when we were in high school, I did not know our paths would ever cross. I certainly did not expect to be working on set as a stylist on a lingerie shoot when she popped in to cover social media for the day, donning a colorful rain jacket and rain boots - she may have been the most fashionable of all of us that day. While working on sets with her and running around parties with guest lists with her for years, I learned that she was now on the producing track, and loving it. And let me tell you, she is good at it, as she has co-produced many concerts, one of them being the popular Pronoun Showdown (she has produced eight in the last year or so). She may aspire to be the brunette Elle Woods, but those who know her know that she already exhibits Elle’s resilience, positivity, and love of all things pink (you should look at pictures of her living room if you don’t believe me). It has not always been sunshine and roses, as Abby speaks about feeling lost and unsure of her path and battling hard days, but she assures me that she loves what she loves and the great days are great and she itches to share that with the world. And when she gets her turn on Broadway, she knows it will be because she is the brains behind the operation. And that there will be a seriously large community of Abby DePhillips fans in the audience. Abby may feel lucky that she has accomplished what she has at such a young age in this city, but it is those who watch her who are the lucky ones. We are all rooting for Abby DePhillips, no matter what shade of pink she inhabits today.

Since I was twelve years old, I looked forward to Monday nights for one reason only: I was heading to Steps on Broadway to take Laya Barak’s Hip-Hop class. Throughout the many years attending her class, Laya taught me so much more than popping and locking - that hour and a half was large lesson in self-confidence, power, and commitment. She treated every student with the same respect and love, choreographing for young girls and boys of all sizes and levels and making them feel welcome and seen. As a result, her students all felt like they were a part of a special family. Laya, a symbol of female power to many, may have an incredible resume (her most recent role being the first female in the last 29 years to direct the now famous BCEFA benefit performance, Broadway Bares), but her warrior attitude was what was always so inspiring to me. For many years, Laya taught my class from a chair, struggling with an ankle injury that kept her from dancing full-out. However, even in the face of adversity, she continued to shine an immense amount of light into my life and into the lives of my peers, which is why we returned year after year. Her dedication and commitment as a teacher caused us to work even harder. Whether we were pushing ourselves in class to prepare for a performance, or sitting in a circle chatting about life and absorbing Laya’s incredible wisdom, I always felt lucky to be in the room with her. Four years since being in that studio together, I found myself reaching out to Laya, and soon, I was sitting in her Chelsea apartment as if no time had passed. Many things have changed since Laya was teaching my group of friends at Steps on Broadway. But one thing remains the same: no matter where she is, no matter what she is doing, no matter if she is choreographing on a chair or scooter or on her own two feet, Laya Barak will always be the boss.

When I began my first year of college, I had no intention of becoming the most popular girl on campus or even befriending the most popular girl on campus - the one who was a member of every club, knew every student, attended every party. But when I realized the most popular girl on campus came in the form of a small, bubbly, pink-loving, and quite fabulous young woman with locks of curly blonde hair strutting around Emerson College looking like a seasoned senior in only our second week there, I was intrigued. I first thought of Carly Nahon as an acquaintance, as I only spent quality time with her during our shared time at the gym off-campus, but soon I realized that Carly had an incredible amount of layers and we created a bond outside of our college setting. Each time I returned to Boston to visit my old friends, I made a point to catch up with Carly. And every time I saw her it was as if no time had passed, even though Carly seemed to be the busiest person I had ever known. After a shift in attitude during her sophomore year when she realized she needed to put herself first, she abdicated her most popular throne, changing her outlook on surface-level friendships, gaining perspective on health and wellness, and finding a true and great love in her boyfriend Ethan. She may now live a quieter life in Los Angeles, but she is no less of a leader than when she was holding court at a dorm room get-together in Boston. Her small but mighty demeanor is evident in her work as well, as she is just as incredible an actor as she is a woman, picking up successfully in her twenties where she left off when she was a working child actor. The truth is, we can all learn something from this queen bee: she continually asks herself the deep questions yet finds comfort in understanding the answers if and when they appear. It is no surprise that we will all know Carly Nahon one day, just as well as she all knows us.

Perhaps it is her stoic presence on set, donning her signature all-black ensemble in the Los Angeles heat. Perhaps it is the final outcome she produces with such mastery, or her quick and biting comedic sarcasm with perfect timing, but it is safe to say that Julia Swain has always intimidated me…in the best way. We met on a set one summer and didn’t exchange too many words, however I found myself quite drawn to her. I was thrilled when she agreed to a photoshoot and interview. But then I had a thought: Julia is incredibly successful at, and becoming known for, creating cinematic yet minimalistic visuals behind the camera. Who was I to direct the DP in a photoshoot? Now she would be on the other side of the camera. I’ll be honest, it made us both nervous. But Julia approached the interview and photoshoot as if it were her own film. In typical Julia fashion, she scouted the best possible photoshoot location (locations have always been her forte). As I photographed Julia while she tested lenses and cameras at Panavision in Los Angeles, I learned that there is so much more to the woman we see behind the camera. Photographing Julia in her element and at ease made me comfortable. I could suddenly feel what it might be like to work with her as a director…I could sense that if Julia believes in something, it is worth believing in. She may appear quite reserved, popping up from behind the camera only to make a note about the shot or add a witty side comment, but it is evident that she is seen and heard loud and clear through what she sees in her viewfinder. Her perspective on each story is palpable in the work she makes. She has dealt with incredible ups and downs in her young life and she somehow is able to persevere and tell others to do the same, carving out a path for female DPs and young people who make up the future of the industry. Julia, whether she be in front or behind the camera, may be, in her words, “unafraid of shadows,” but she is also, no doubt, a light in the dark.

Emily Lautch has always been enigmatic to me. When I first met her, in my freshman spring semester at Emerson College, I was sure she was an older student because of the way she carried herself. I was in awe of just how together her life seemed. When asked to create a “Me Project,” a performance with no words that still told the class who we were, Emily shared a poem, a bulleted list she had accumulated over 100 days, based on a Nick Sturm poem, that described perfectly who she was. That list only left me more intrigued. In our academic classes, Emily would speak her mind with such eloquence and confidence that made me sure I was in the wrong class. However, in our acting classes, Emily would bare all and express her mess for all to see with an ease. While I envied these qualities, I also realized then just how similar we both were - how the lives we show the world and our realities are completely contrasting. I will never forget the crying speech she once gave to our acting class about how much “she just fucking missed the mountains.” It was sans eloquence and it was still somehow perfection. She was thrilling to watch or listen to. While we spent almost every day together in class that last semester of freshman year, our friendship did not flourish until after we parted ways and were left with sporadic meetings and long text messages to each other about love, art, and our shared struggles with depression and anxiety. Now that Emily is living life post-college and back in nature, she has a new relationship to poetry and acting and new epiphanies about what travel has meant to her. She may be as far away from the moon as ever before, but she continues to feel its presence as if it were seated next to her. And I realize that just like the cosmos and the galaxies, the more I know about Emily, the more there is to discover.

Cecelia and Allegra sit down and discuss self tapes and film/tv audition protocol, the beauty of days with no to-do list, and Cecelia's new role as assistant director and producer.

Rebecca Ocampo’s house is exactly as I imagined it. Simple, but not without thought, practical, quiet, and minimalistic in the most artistic of ways. It completely captures her essence, or what I had known of her up until then. It instantly brought me back to the first time I met her, as an early teenager in a dance class I had been dragged to. There were many large personalities in the class but not many of them made a lasting impression on me. Instead I was drawn to one woman stretching in the corner. Even during the warm up I could not concentrate on the movement, as I was watching her in the mirror across the room instead. When the dancers were asked to embody their biggest fear, it was Rebecca’s group that was the one to watch, mostly because of her take on the task. Her calm matched with exquisite lines she made with her movement almost made drowning seem angelic. Almost a nice way to die. Speaking and getting to know Rebecca, however, filled me with life. Although we always had a connection through mutual friends, this was our first conversation in getting to know each other. I have realized what an incredible soul she is and why exactly I was taken by her that first day. As she speaks about her film made in Africa, her difficulty assimilating to an iconic dance group, and her transition from dance to acting, she lays it out for me eloquently and neatly, but there is a quiet storm brewing underneath. She is far from settled on the inside, as she thinks about the complexities in herself and her artistic voice in relation to the larger world around her. And it is exciting to watch her think. Rebecca reminds us of the beauty of the constant change of direction in an artist’s life and career. After many years in the business, she can now say she has gone from being a brand new artist to one who introduces new artists to her community, a shift she can be proud of. She does it all with a stoic and serene take on the world and her place in it, even if it may be somewhere in between, somewhere on her own.

Max and Allegra talk about his most recent audition, Oklahoma on Broadway, harmonies in popular music, and Max's future memoir.

Maddy Monjo and I began a relationship as distant family friends: Maddy grew up in Sydney, Australia and I was in New York City. While we were both aware of the other’s love of art and music, we never discussed it in detail and saw each other rarely. As we got older, Maddy and I began a friendship that was separate from our familial connection. Most recently, it has been the mutual support between Maddy (and her girlfriend Rose) and me that has kept us connected, especially when it comes to our artistic endeavors. Recently, I went to Los Angeles to meet up with Maddy and Rose and discuss the music they make as duo January Grit. I was inspired by how visionary Rose and Maddy are when it comes to what their music is about and who it is for. It is clear that the art and romance go hand-in-hand to make January Grit a successful band with purpose and direction. After a formative year of struggle in which they dropped out of college together, sustained serious injuries, and moved around the country, they have proven that their art only gets stronger as they overcome obstacles and communicate through music and poetry. They have created a standout debut album, Here in Fahrenheit (the title, a clever nod to their coming together in the United States despite both being raised in locations where Celsius is used to mark the weather), which sets cutting spoken word poetry to aerodynamic harmonies and whimsical melodies, similar in style to Brandi Carlyle, early Clare Bowditch & The Feeding Set, and Weezer. January Grit have defined what it is like to be in a romantic and artistic partnership in 2019. One foot may be in the business of art and the other in the creation of it, but their hearts are linked in love and friendship, making their work authentic and honest and leaving their audiences with the idea that art should always survive, no matter what happens in a relationship.

There is really no way to walk around lower Manhattan with Ray Iman without at least three people stopping to say hello. And Ray treats everyone as equal: they greet everyone in a loving way, no matter if they saw the person four years ago or four hours ago. Despite being the child of quite possibly the largest personality in sports history, Ray is a calm force, exuding strength in their own way, through sensitivity, love, self-expression and authenticity, in all that they do; it is no wonder that the communities of friends and artists Ray has assembled will follow them anywhere. I have seen Ray through ups and downs, but I continue to watch in awe as they turn negative to positive and never fail to stay true to themselves. Their maturity and intelligence is just the tip of the iceberg: Ray has one of the most romantic outlooks on life and love of anyone I have ever met in their early 20s, despite experiencing all that they have that may have turned them cynical. It is quite beautiful to roam the scary world as a young artist and then return home to Ray, who reminds us all of why we are really here and what is truly important. Whether it is during a trip to witchcraft store Enchantments to buy a candle or on a film set, Ray strives to bring their full self to every person and every experience and it is infectious. So listen in to find out why Ray still believes love and artistic expression can solve all of our most difficult problems.