Daphne Rubin-Vega
Where are you from? Where are you now?
I was born in La Ciudad de Panamá, Panama. I first came to the US when I was about three years old and lived in Washington, DC with my aunt and uncle. We returned to Panama when I was 6 and then, at 9, I returned to live with my mother in NYC. Eight different schools, two different languages. My mother was a nurse. Her family came to Panama from Barbados, as the canal created opportunities for West Indians of African descent throughout the Caribbean. My father on the other hand, was from the interior; a Province called Los Santos. He was a carpenter. Their marriage was interracial. Their divorce was part of the reason for the geographic to the US. My mother sought greater opportunity as her parents did before her. Right now, I am at my home in the ancestral lands of the Mohawk nation, known as Catskill, NY.
I don't want to lump on any stereotypes from the jump; However, I must note the coincidence that pretty much EVERY Panamanian-American I have spoken to is fully immersed in music. From Salsa & Calypso legends, to DJs...and now a Tony Award-nominated actor/performer. Were you always swimming in music as a child? Did you always want to have a career in music performance?
Music is absolute medicine for the soul. I’m told that, as a child of 2 years, I would spontaneously combust into dancing and singing. I was put on the table because I glommed the attention. Montunos from the interior of Los Santos, Calypso and pop music were the earliest musical chew toys. There was church music and how it moved in people’s bodies was different from Rock and roll and Hip-hop. As a girl, music in my house was a source of education and pride. All were welcome which meant some were more welcomed than others, but the arguments were informative and sincere. Music is definitely a conduit. I found it all kinds of healing at different times in different ways. Today, it’s the most spiritual mode of communication between my son and me. He shares his music with me and our mutual enjoyment of different kinds of music is a great bonding.
The nightclub scene of NYC in the late 80’s is regarded as enigmatic. The perfect balance of flash & grit could be experienced at every corner turn, or every dark hallway leading to a thumping sound system. Madonna had already cracked the shell of squeaky-clean pop music with bold & naughty energy (of course, with a springboard effort via Nuyorican DJ/Producer Jellybean Benitez). Breakdancing had already broken onto the silver screen a few times over. MTV ditched the all-rock format and started daytime takeovers of the Palladium nightclub to host Club MTV. The 'prime time' version of NYC nightlife was accessible to all of middle America. But, in actuality, it was the young Latin audiences in Brooklyn & the Bronx filling the nightspots and dancing all night to Latin Freestyle, with its pulsing Hip-Hop Electro sound - that kept NYC's underground rep intact. A burgeoning industry thrived and dominated their Spanglish corner of the record business. You were a member of Pajama Party, a bilingual female vocal trio that sported spandex bodysuits, various animal prints, crushed velvet, leather, lace, big hair, and even bigger hoops. But the biggest takeaway was that Pajama Party was a crossover act, having charted 3 singles on the Billboard Top 100. Where were you when you first heard your first single, "Yo No Sé" on the radio?
I was in a cab crossing 9th street and Broadway, and ‘yo no sé’ was playing. There’s that moment of vague unexpected recognition that begins to come over, and I think I said, “That’s me!! That’s us! That’s our song!!”, having a “tourette’s moment”, and when the driver finally understands me, he goes, “ Really?!!! Do you know Stacey Q? I LOVE Stacey Q!!”
How sharp was the competition amongst Freestyle acts who were vying for top attention? With a fanbase growing wildly across the city (and into southern Florida), how difficult was it to keep up the appearances & performances?
Of course, there’s competition! It was Fierce! We are young, mostly working class and brown women literally singing and dancing our asses off for our supper! For me, it was an opportunity and privilege. I watched other groups with skills and wanted to suck in all up; I took the education very seriously! Unfortunately, I believe our producers thought freestyle was a ‘stepping stone’ to the mainstream since we followed up with a more pop vibe. Face it, I was the token Latina in a girl group with a song in English called ‘yo no sé’!
What is your favorite memory from that era?
Touring with the girls. They were like my sisters and I felt super protective. In fact, one of them (Marialisa Marino) is my sister-in-law! (laughs) We nicknamed her Elvis. We would prank each other, blast music on the way to a gig, and scream so loud, we’d almost lose our voices! That’s one way I learned moderation.
The 90's in NYC Nightlife started to phase out the freestyle sound, opting for that '4 on the floor' beat that is the main staple of House Music. In fact, House Music, paralleled with its international reach into the UK, became the de facto sound of NYC with its deep grooves nurturing a community of dancers & DJs. And there you are, again, on the periphery of a musical movement. You released a slew of singles with indie label Maxi Records, working alongside dance music makers like Danny Tenaglia, Peter Daou, and David Anthony. On any given Saturday night, your songs would be played for thousands of sweaty party people all over the city. Did you hand-deliver your records to the DJs in person?
I did. Indeed I did. I lived with Danny Krivit at that time. He was a DJ - still is - and most of the people he hung with were in house music to one degree or another. It was a scene I hung out in, and a lot of my friends were DJs too! I didn’t have the audacity to do some of the things I saw other artists do to get their records played though! I worked with some of my favorite artists and hoped for the best.
What is your favorite nightlife memory from that time?
I have many! Danny taking me to visit Larry Levan on King street in the early evening so I could be on the premises when it transformed into the Paradise Garage. That was a magical time: dancing on subwoofers; watching Grace Jones in a brass bed on stage with Keith Haring; Madonna sliding on baby powder on the floor!!!
Okay, here’s where we zoom in on your work ethic. In between you performing across the country for dance music programs like 'Dance Party USA' and having your vinyl singles flying off the record store shelves, you performed with the NYC Spanish language comedy company, 'El Barrio USA', studied theatre, and eventually auditioned for a then-small off-Broadway musical named RENT. The latter, as we all know today, is where the theatre world witnessed your star power in full. Your character, Mimi, was the beautifully-flawed vessel for that 'It Factor' you possess. Since you were already grinding hard throughout the city's subcultural industries, was this initially 'another gig', or did you know this was destined to be a massive phenomenon?
Imagining success and experiencing it are quite different things! I knew RENT was my kind of Musical despite the fact that I wasn’t really into musicals! I took acting very seriously at that time and felt strongly that it should be separate from music! (laughs) However…this one was different and perfect for both. This was a massive turning point.
RENT-related: What challenges did you encounter upon playing Mimi? The conflict of that character - an HIV-positive exotic dancer with heroin addiction - could be triggering for many who come from environments & communities where drug abuse and sex work have crumbled households. The stigma surrounding HIV-positive status still stings with homophobia today. This might sound silly to such a brave performer as yourself but did you, at any point, experience any fear for playing this character?
I have never resisted playing a character with issues. Moreover, the issues a character has makes them interesting to me. There was a point where some family couldn’t understand how or why i would play a character like Mimi if I didn’t have AIDS. I’m sure some of my family (of origin) had issues with certain roles I’ve taken on. I find it heartbreaking that my country of birth hasn’t overcome these stigmas. Panama is a very conservative country. Perhaps the youth are changing that, but at this juncture, it would still be quite risqué to produce a mainstage RENT.
Also, can you please share your dearest memory of RENT writer/composer Jonathan Larson (RIP)?
A dearest memory is him sitting on a bench in Tompkins Square Park during the January blizzard of ’96, eating a hero sandwich during a rehearsal break, and watching a bunch of us snowball fight. He was grinning ear to ear, eating that sandwich, while watching us pummel each other.
The year is 2003. You’ve been nominated for ‘Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Play' for your role as Conchita in 'Anna in the Tropics', a play written by Nilo Cruz. The play was deemed a 'long shot' for award recognition due to it premiering in New Jersey, as opposed to a 'traditional' NYC or Broadway debut presentation. Your nomination was a testimony to your amazing ability to embody the role to the fullest. Do you feel 'Anna in the Tropics' would have done well if it premiered in New York City, even as Broadway struggled to maintain itself in the 2-year-old shadow of the 2001 World Trade Center disaster?
Anna premiered at the McCarter Theater in Princeton, New Jersey, and was actually the maiden production in that brand new theater at that time. People argued many reasons for its disappointing reception: some saying that it was because it had won the Pulitzer before it had ever actually been produced. Another (theory) was that it was basically a tragedy and not a musical - which is generally the luckiest horse to bet on especially since Broadway suffered greatly from the repercussions of 9/11 (although it seems to pale in comparison to now). Furthermore, white tolerance of cultures other than their own being reflected on Broadway continues to be a niche market despite the inroads being made. The arc is wide!
Theatre seems to bring kindred spirits together through collaboration. Through your stage work, you’ve connected & worked alongside with various luminaries like Mira Sorvino, Blair Underwood, Bobby Cannavale, Patti Lupone, and the late, great Philip Seymour Hoffman. But there is no connection like the one you have with Puerto Rican playwright/lyricist Quiara Alegría Hudes. From 'Daphne's Dive' to 'Miss You Like Hell' to 'In The Heights', there's a magical spark that ignites when you two work together. How did you two meet? What draws you into her work?
Quiara is a soul sister. We have A LOT of ID in our backgrounds: mothers with dark skin deeply spiritually connected to their roots, renegade fathers who believed intellect reigns supreme and were unaware/unforgiving of their impact as white males. I read Quiara’s ‘Water by the Spoonful’ and saw ‘Elliot; A Soldier’s Fugue’. Although we came from different places, there was so much I could relate to, so many thoughts that she articulated so clearly! Her work is soulful, funny and totally validating for my experience.
We love to see you on TV and in films. The audiences sink into every word & nuance that comes from your characters. As the majority of people are locked down & locked in to virtual programming, we will enjoy your participation in Netflix's 'Social Distance'. Meanwhile, 'live' theatre is on pause. Given that Broadway has its post-Covid recovery work on the horizon, and that we are all ‘socially-distanced’ from the theatre business, this gives us a moment of reflection on how to make tomorrow better. How can Broadway be improved for the near future?
That’s a HUGE question. When the people who produce look more like the people on stage then things will make more sense...?
What advice would you give to a younger person from the diaspora who wants to do what you do?
Use the entire world as your educator! Eurocentric culture has always been widely considered the most legit source of highest achievement while we seldom consider all the groundwork and contributions Afro-Caribbean and indigenous ancestors have made - from sounds to flavors; our colors, our spices, our stories. If you can imagine it, you can truly do it. Don’t let people get in the way; least of all, your own fears.