Abstract
At eighteen years old I was prepared to enter l’Institut des Beaux Arts. The day before the exam I inexplicably changed my mind and went instead to the Institute of Theatre and Cinema Studies. I graduated with honors in theatre criticism and got a job in the literary department of the National Theatre in Bucharest. I hated the censorship (Beckett and Ionesco were forbidden, words were under constant surveillance), but I loved the theatre. I loved what I imagined was happening between the words. In that invisible space of true freedom and solidarity. It was then that I met the legendary Ellen Stewart for the first time. It was a revelatory moment and, certainly, a predestined encounter in my life. Soon after, I managed to escape Ceausescu’s dictatorship. I flew to New York with a bandaged hand: my best friend, the dog across the street, bit me the night before my departure. In New York, while attending the PhD program in theatre at City University, my interest turned to playwriting. I then moved to California where I got an MFA in playwriting from the University of California, San Diego.
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