CheekyChicago

When rehearsals began at the Goodman for Boleros for the Disenchanted, José Rivera’s autobiographical saga of love and immigration, the cast and crew gathered around the table to tell their own stories. Chances are, no one in the room had a family spanning more continents – or earning more frequent flier miles – than that of actress Liza Fernandez.

Born in Toronto to Chilean parents, Liza (pronounced “Leeza”) grew up an Australian girl, living with her family in Melbourne from age 8 to 17. Yes, she even had the accent. Inspired by Australian TV shows like Neighbours and Home and Away, which have bred stars like Russell Crowe and Naomi Watts, Liza vowed as a teenager to get to the States and pursue her dream of acting.

Now Liza’s a working American actress, with credits at theaters like TimeLine, Remy Bumppo and Steppenwolf, where David Cromer directed her in Perfect Mendacity last year. She’s currently on stage at the Goodman in Boleros, playing two strong female characters. In Act One, set in 1950’s Puerto Rico, she plays Petra, a feisty city girl who dreams of moving to the farmlands of New Hampshire. In Act Two, set 40 years later in Alabama, Liza plays Monica, a young Latina who’s starting a family but must relocate for her husband’s career.

Instantly friendly and down-to-earth, Liza spoke with me over some tasty iced teas at Argo next to the Goodman last week. We talked about her family’s journeys, her struggles with ethnic identity and stereotypes, and her great experiences in theater. It’s no big leap from Liza’s true story to the sacrifices, commitment and sense of humor of the characters in Boleros.

Cheeky: So let’s begin with where you grew up.

Liza Fernandez: I was born in Toronto. We grew up in Australia though. We left when I was 8, and my brother was 6 and my sister was 10 or so. And we were there until I was 17, and then I went to Vancouver and studied there, and then I studied in New York, and then I came here. So I’ve been all over the place!

Cheeky: What brought you back to the States?

LF: I needed to leave Australia. I was like, “I’m gonna act, I know exactly where I want to go, I know exactly what city I’m gonna live in. Take me there.” And [my parents] said “Oh, we can’t.” I said, “OK, can we save money, and can you at least push me out there and let me get started and then you can go back to Australia?” And they said, “We can do that, but let’s make sure that your siblings are with you.”

So we went to Vancouver, because it was safe, and we were Canadian. It was the three of us — I was like 17, my brother was 16, my sister was 19. And we lived alone. My mom found the apartment, she set us all up, and then was like, “OK, I’m gonna go back to Australia.” Which is the oddest thing in the world!

Cheeky: Wow. Did it seem strange at the time?

LF: It didn’t even hit me until I started telling people in my mid twenties. I was like, “Yeah, this is how it happened,” and everyone’s like [makes a shocked face]. But we kept on target. We kept on what we wanted to do, which was really important.

Cheeky: And what were your siblings’ goals?

LF: At the time my brother was in hockey, so he was doing hockey school. And now he’s an actor in L.A. My sister is all arts, like painting. And mine was always theater.

Cheeky: And if you had stayed in Australia, could you have pursued theater?

LF: You know, it’s weird, because I had the full Australian accent, I was raised in Australia, I had the Australian mindset, but I didn’t look it. So, for TV in particular, they were like, “Um, I don’t get this.” So it was harder to get jobs when I was a teenager, and I thought I’ve got to get out of here because I’m not being accepted for how I look and how I sound.

Cheeky: To back up for a second, what brought your parents to Australia in the first place?

LF: The economy in Canada was really bad. And I remember my aunts and uncles on my mom’s side saying Australia has so many opportunities. And we just kind of picked up our bags. I guess that’s an immigrant sort of thing. Isn’t that weird? I don’t hear that often, which is why it makes me think, wow, that took a lot of guts.

Cheeky: What did your parents do?

LF: My dad, during the week, is a mechanic. And on the weekends he’s a pilot. He flies, say, families across Australia.

Cheeky: That is so cool.

LF: Yeah, that’s what he really has always wanted to do. He has his own shop, and it’s actually quite successful. So it allows him to do the other stuff.

Cheeky: And what about your mom?

LF: She’s a stay-at-home mom. She flies out and sees us every once in a while. She’s now in Chile – my parents are from Chile. We speak Spanish because of that.

Our Spanish is basic because they wanted us to learn English. It’s funny because, with Boleros, around the table at the beginning of rehearsals we each told our story. And the amount of people who said that their parents didn’t want them to speak Spanish is really surprising to me. In one room.

Cheeky: Where do you think that comes from? Is it an effort to assimilate?

LF: I felt like, it wasn’t that they didn’t want me to speak Spanish, but they would say English is the way to go. “We want you to be really fluent in English so that you can survive and succeed.” Later on in life I feel like, “My God, I wish I knew a little bit more!” And I do know it, but it’s conversational. Henry [Godinez, the director of Boleros] and all these other people also said that’s what happened in their families. Isn’t that weird?

Cheeky: What about José Rivera? Was his experience similar?

LF: He kept his Spanish. And he and Felix [Solis], who plays Manuelo, both of them speak Spanish comfortably. But I think Joe has a very Western mentality. He and his brothers were more raised here than anywhere else. It was his mom and dad who kept the tradition, which is what you see in Boleros.

José’s very much like me, in that he didn’t go back to Puerto Rico for 12 years. It was a 12-year span. And for me with Chile it was the same thing. All my cousins and relatives, everyone’s in Chile. And it takes a lot of money, which is annoying, and I was in school a lot of the time I was here. But also, it’s time. José said time just goes by fast, and before you know it, it’s been 12 years.

Cheeky: Did your parents have a story similar to José’s parents?

LF: They did. My dad tried to apply for a work visa to America five times, and he was rejected five times. He applied for Canada once and was accepted immediately. Isn’t that amazing? So he’s always wanted to live here. Now he’s content in Australia but he always, always, always wanted to be here. This is where he wanted to set up shop. And because of me, he can come over now. But back in the day it was really hard.

Cheeky: And probably even more so, these days.

LF: I know.

Cheeky: So when did you first see theater and decide that’s what you wanted to do?

LF: In Australia. Actually the TV in Australia was really cool. I think more than anything the acting is so natural. Sometimes TV here . . . [She doesn’t finish but we both laugh]. Australian TV is so natural. People just come and go, and nobody’s trying.

So I saw TV and I was like, “I want to do that.” And I auditioned for some TV shows, but it didn’t really work out.

There’s also this theater in Australia called the Playhouse. And there, once again, it’s the same sort of natural acting. I never saw bad theater. Melbourne’s known for its underground arts. Theater, film, TV, painting, whatever. So that was really cool. But I really wanted to go on TV.

So when I came to New York, I was auditioning for a whole bunch of Hispanic, sort of street style characters, which I had no idea how to do. I had no idea how to do that. I was on the train a number of times and I’d listen to the accent, the Hispanic sort of body language. I came from Shakespeare, from these modern Australian plays. It was a hard transition from [those plays] to this other character. And so all this time I was auditioning for Latina characters. Which is fine, I just didn’t expect that.

Cheeky: That’s a big culture shock, to suddenly get “type cast” as something that doesn’t even feel like your “type.”

LF: To be honest with you, I actually used to be really embarrassed of being Chilean, of being Hispanic.

Cheeky: Really?

LF: Oh yeah, I was in New York and I was like, “Oh God, I’m not Hispanic.” Isn’t that amazing? And I know a number of people who are like that. I mean, I grew up in Australia, and during the time in Australia I didn’t have very much connection to my Hispanic heritage. I’d go to Hispanic parties, or I’d go to dance events and things with my family. We had some Hispanic friends and family. But I went to private school. In that school there were no Hispanic people. My best friends were white Australian girls. So my heritage was sort of all over the place.

Cheeky: Incidental.

LF: Exactly. Nobody reacted differently to me. Bu then, in New York, that changed. I had no idea how racist one can be. It’s almost like somebody saying “You’re Latina! I’m not judging, but you’re a Latina.” And you’re like, “Whoah!”

Cheeky: And with that comes a whole set of characteristics that you’re expected to have.

LF: Exactly. Clichés and characterizations. Which is fine, because I think I have some of those. I’m fire-y. I don’t know what else. I know how to move my hips. I don’t know! I’m still trying to figure that out. But I feel like, when I was in New York, that was the first time I started to realize I was Latina.

Cheeky: That’s fascinating because you would think that New York is such the diverse melting pot.

LF: Yup.

Cheeky: And yet, that’s not always the case. And then what about Chicago?

LF: Same sort of thing. I played Santa Monica in a Stephen Adly Guirgis play [The Last Days of Judas Iscariot at The Gift Theatre Company]. And that was six months of last year, playing this sort of Puerto Rican who’s got the lingo. I’ve now become very comfortable with it, because I’ve spent so many years with it. I played a Mexican girl in Sonia Flew [at Steppenwolf], which was a Hispanic family. But I got to do the Moroccan [in Perfect Mendacity, also at Steppenwolf]. And I got to do Buddy Holly which was a non-Hispanic part. And Alice in On the Verge [at Remy Bumppo].

Cheeky: Can you tell me about doing Perfect Mendacity with David Cromer?

LF: Oh my God! He is so . . . he is so awesome. Can I just say that.

Cheeky: That’s great!

LF: He’s just this really sort of blunt, honest, straight-to-the-point person, and that’s what I knew from New York.

Cheeky: Me too. And that’s not very Chicago.

LF: It is so not Chicago. The guy is phenomenal. He’s so phenomenal. And if you tell him that, he won’t accept it. He just goes, “OK, great, great, we’ll just try that today. We’ll try that. It could change tomorrow.” And everyone’s like “You’re amazing!” And he’s like [she shrugs] “Well, you know.” He just doesn’t want to hear it.

Cheeky: That’s great. So down to earth. And what about Henry Godinez?

LF: He is just – his heart is so big. He and I did a show called Psst . . . I have Something To Tell You, Mi Amor [at TimeLine Theatre Company] with Sandra Marquez. And when she and I met, I was so enamored with her. I was thinking, I want this woman’s career. She’s a beautiful person. She came right up to me and said, “Hi, I’m Sandra, what’s your name?”

And Henry just has this wonderful way of – he doesn’t show you he’s directing. So the ideas sound like they’re coming from me. But they’re not [laughing].

He’s all about just trying. Our whole rehearsal time, everyone was just throwing stuff out there. And he’s really sensitive. He used to be an actor, and still is. He knows what it feels like to put yourself out there and just try something. Sometimes directors don’t keep you afloat. They don’t uphold you. So he held us, but he also said, keep trying, keep this going.

And the whole time, what shocked me was that he was very casual. Our first run of the show apparently was really early in our rehearsal process. And I felt like there was no stress. He was just really sure that it was all going to work out. There’s something about being held up that way.

Cheeky: As far as the material you were working on with Henry in Boleros — the story must have felt so close to home. Was this the first time that you’ve done something that really tapped into your heritage and your experience?

LF: Yeah, I would say the closest so far, because we had more rehearsal time to explore it. It got me thinking a lot about my mom and dad’s story. And what it must have felt like to go from Chile to Canada, set up shop there for like 8 years and then do the whole thing all over again on the opposite end of the world.

Cheeky: What do you think diversity in theater really means? How do you really achieve it? Like the Goodman, for example, is putting on a series of shows this year about the Latino experience. And is that kind of thing just pigeon-holing? Or is it integrating?

LF: I think it’s both. It’s really weird. One thing I don’t appreciate – and this is not just the Goodman, but everywhere – is when you get a Hispanic production and you get a Hispanic director. It’s like, “Oh, that’s for the Hispanic director.” And I don’t really jive with that. My boyfriend has so much more understanding about my culture than I do, from years of studying Hispanic culture, in particular the music. And he’s this white, Caucasian man. And I think that we kind of pigeon-hole things that way.

But any sort of story really is a universal one. And it somehow seems to tap [everyone]. We can make [theater] this universal thing. We really can. It doesn’t have to be a Hispanic drama. The story itself is what should engage. And sometimes we pigeon-hole the characters, as if they have to be white or brown, or whatever. But imagine that being blinded, and just telling the story.

Cheeky: That’s how I felt about Boleros. I didn’t think, “Oh this is about them.” My family were immigrants. It was touching on that level – we’ve all had grandparents, or we’ve all seen a couple who’s grown old together and decided to stick together.

LF: Mm-hmm. And Henry, I love that he said that right at the beginning: “I don’t want this to be just a Hispanic story. I really want this be a universal thing about immigrants who come to a country, and what happens.” The struggles, the beauties, or whatever.

He didn’t want accents. I mean, for some words, yes. We keep some Spanish words through the course of the play just to remind us that we are on an island. But he was very particular about keeping it a universal message. And I agree. I totally agree. You’re right – everybody can understand this.

Joe [Minoso] and Elizabeth [Ledo] have the absolute privilege of standing behind the scrim at the end [of Boleros], before the lights come up and it’s just them. And they spend a good three to four minutes, maybe five minutes, looking out into the audience. Joe, every time he comments on this. He says, “There are times during my theater experience, during my life here, when I feel so privileged to be able to do this job. And it’s always behind that scrim, when I’m looking out, and everyone is completely engaged, and just all this energy oozes out onto the stage.”

Cheeky: That moment at the end – I cried. It was perfect. It was spot on. When he says [spoiler deleted!] it just breaks my heart.

LF: That’s what Joe said. When Eusebio [played by René Rivera] says that, everyone’s like [she gasps]. You can have nothing but everything at the same time. And Joe says it’s such an honor. We were trying to negotiate how I can get up there and see! And just look, and then leave. Because that’s how theater should be.

Cheeky: And what about your last scene, when you show the baby to Flora [Sandra Marquez’s character] and then she breaks down and you break down.

LF: The moment that we leave and we’re standing outside, I always hear Sandra make that little exhale of emotion. That’s when I cry. Just to hear somebody else, knowing that she will miss me as much I will, that’s when I [cry]. Sandra has this incredible technique, which I’m trying to learn as I watch her onstage. She has this incredible way of vocally getting to her emotional state. And I know a couple of actresses, a little more experienced than I, who do that. There’s something where the body goes, “Oh, I know this.” And then it comes. She’s phenomenal. It’s such an honor to be onstage with her.

Cheeky: What’s a moment that you’ve had that’s comparable to Joe’s? What’s your “scrim moment”?

LF: You know, what’s awesome is when people comment. In particular when Monica is with Eusabio and Flora, and they leave and then she starts talking to Oskar, like, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.” I love when people go, “Uh-oh” or “Oh God, she’s not ready.” That commenting makes me feel like everyone’s so into the story! It gives me that chill, you know? That’s how it should be.

Boleros for the Disenchanted runs through July 26 at the Goodman Theatre.