Sarina Freda by Juan Carlos Quimper

Sarina Freda Is Totally Probably Fine

The first thing Sarina Freda said to me when we met up virtually for this Q&A was, “You have really nice teeth.” Charmingly forthright, Freda channels that energy into her art. The actor/writer experienced a harrowing acid trip in 2021 and reckoned with the realizations through writing, penning her solo show no no no please no god no, nevermind i’m fine. Ahead of the comedic show’s New York premiere, COPY chatted with Freda about blurring lines between on and off stage, who should do acid, and the role of sound in theater.    


COPY: Have you always been a performer?

SARINA: I've always been a theater kid. I grew up in LA and I never did the child acting thing, but I was very involved with high school theater and community theater.

How would you describe your theatrical background? 

It's pretty varied. But I feel like I'm usually playing people with direction, with forceful energy. I'm never small. In fourth grade I was Mayzie La Bird in Seussical. Everyone was like, “That's her true essence. She is Mayzie La Bird.” Then in college, I played Medea in Medea.

Do you think that's true to who you are off the stage?

There's something about those roles where I really become myself or have access to something that comes very naturally to me. I find that the forward energy and the extremes are a bit easier for me. 

So for your upcoming show—I wrote down the title because it's kind of long:
no no no please no god no, nevermind i’m fine—

Yes. 

This is your first solo project. Do you feel like it’s your baby or have you allowed it to be in the hands of other people?

There's a part of it that feels like it's my baby, especially when I was generating it. It feels like you're birthing something: It’s painful and hard and coming from somewhere that is very unknown. But my director, Tom Costello, became a co-writer and a co-creator because the piece is very physical and it's based in structure. We use structure as a way to create the LSD experience instead of talking about it.

The way the story unfolds is confusing and surprising and dysregulating. I had the conceptual idea of making it feel like an acid trip, but I didn't know how to make that happen. Tom really helped me figure that out. Then my partner, Nicholas Webster, he's a musician and a sound designer. Sound and music are huge parts of the show. We use sound to emphasize things, but also to solve problems. Sound is really a part of the narrative. We have no props. We have nothing like that, so we're just using these forces, including lighting.

Do you have a favorite sound moment?

There's this ridiculous compilation of every sound you'll hear in the play at the very beginning. It’s so over the top and it sets the play up to be like, what are we here to see, and it just makes me laugh.

So this being a one-woman show, how have you found ways to support yourself on stage?

I reframe whatever I'm being given from the audience as exactly what it should be. They're doing exactly what they're meant to be doing. So if it's quiet, it's like, “Oh, you guys don't understand it, this is a special opportunity for me to help you see.” I stick to the work and try to stay present.

Are you playing a part? Or are you yourself? 

I am Sarina, but I'm playing a multiverse version of myself—someone who had slightly different circumstances and maybe didn't process the psychedelic experience as I did.

You've spoken of yourself in other roles you've played as this direct, forceful character. Does that still exist in this Sarina?

Yes, it's her kryptonite as far as what makes her special and confident. But then as the play goes on, we see that direction is maybe not actually helping this person live their life with truth. It's perhaps preventing anything that is challenging or nuanced or small to be powerful or felt or faced.

Do you think this show is a work of autofiction?

I actually never thought about that word for this, but that's exactly what it is. There are moments where I'm like, “Oh wait, maybe I still haven't learned that lesson in my real life and I'm doing it in the show.” I’m learning more about myself, and also how this character is still learning and growing. 

Have you found any complications with that blurring of lines between the stage and your real life?

There was a big struggle in figuring out how to articulate this thing artistically within the story that I still haven't quite understood yet. There were two processes happening at once, both the writing and the personal processing. It was exciting and also very emotional at times.

When I was reading about the show, I thought about that trope of “straight guy does acid once and now has empathy.” Do you think that trope factors into your show?

In a huge way, it does. That was also what made it hard to write at first, because it feels so much like a trope. Once we let ourselves go to the extreme knowing it's hyperbolic, knowing that it’s self-aware, that was the way in for me, putting it on this ridiculous pedestal and then poking at it. But that comes crashing down in the show. 

What is the driving ethos of your approach to performance?

Being okay with not having the answer. Sometimes you want to be obvious and clear with what you're saying, but sometimes not having the answer is more interesting.

How would you describe someone who does acid?

Someone who is sturdy and also deeply curious and full of wonder. I think that is what will get you through. If you don't feel sturdy and you feel scared, it will not go so well.

So are you fine? 

I am. But I am also not at the same time.

Photo by Bryan Berlin

no no no please no god no, nevermind i’m fine runs from February 27 to March 15 at HERE Arts Center.