Today we’d like to introduce you to Amanda Centeno.

Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?

I am a theatre actor who got my start in middle school musicals, as many of us do. I was accepted into Tisch as an actor, but rejected from the musical theatre program. I was placed in an interdisciplinary acting studio, which ended up being the right place for me to grow my artistry. I learned that I wasn’t just a performer; I wanted an artistic career where I could perform, create, and be a generative source in any room I found myself in. From there, I discovered that new work was my passion. I have dedicated much of my career towards new plays and film, both as an actor, and lately as a writer.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?

It has not been a smooth road at all. Throughout most of my career, I have struggled with believing I was good enough to pursue the artistic life I actually wanted. I split much of my time between side jobs I hated and multiple projects at once, thinking that if I just lived frenetically enough I could drown out the voices telling me that I was a joke. The burnout period of my life came to a head around 2019, right before the pandemic. But oddly enough, that also ushered in the expansion of my artistry. I originally anticipated that I would be a theatre actor exclusively, but I realized it was only fear stopping me. I started to take on-camera classes, and eventually wrote my first short film, which I also acted in. With no outside industry to answer to in the quarantine, I became more of an authority in my own career and honed in on my skills. This has been the basis of my career as the industry has opened up again, and though my inner self-talk has drastically improved, it does not come without its difficulties. As I opened myself up to the on-camera world, auditions really started to pick up. Along with the uptick in auditions, there was an accompanying uptick in rejections. Even though I knew this was a natural progression, the fatigue of putting myself out there over and over again can sometimes become overwhelming. It’s a part of the career I have a much better handle on nowadays, but it is a struggle that comes with the territory of this career.

Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?

I am an actor and creative who specializes in new play development. I am known for being a zany, brave, and insightful collaborator, most recently at The Mercury Store, a theatre development space in Brooklyn. I am known for always working on something fun and being involved in projects with good people. I am most proud of the fact that I have begun to ask myself: what do I want to do? What opportunities am I excited about? As an actor, you can sometimes feel you’re at the mercy of everyone else: directors, casting directors, the industry trends. And it can sometimes put you in a position of disempowerment. But as I’ve gotten older, I really treat my creative opportunities as auditions on both ends: do I want to work this team? Am I excited by this work? Because I am at the point in my career where I know I’ll get offered work – and that I want to make my own work, set up myself in different industries, and grow on my own terms. I think that also sets me apart from other people in my field energetically. In general, I have always been an actor that is interested in the totality of the piece, not just my part in it.

We’d love to hear about how you think about risk taking?

As an actor in new play development, you are consistently taking risks. The scripts aren’t in their final form, the characters are blank slates, and you have to bring your whole self to the table in the rehearsal room. When I think about risk at this moment, I am actually thinking a bit more of my life offstage. Last year, I made the decision to move back home. I moved out of the apartment I had lived in for 5 years in Brooklyn, away from the roommate who I had lived with for 7 years (who remains one of my best friends), and figured that I would find a new apartment while I was doing an out-of-town acting gig. But the housing market had changed, all of my freelance remote work had fallen through right before I started rehearsals, and the thought of going back to this grind of multiple jobs I hated just for a room in a place I shared with four other strangers was less than ideal. So I made the decision to come home, thinking it would be for a couple of months – and here I am, a year later. At 31 years old, it feels weird to be living in my father’s house, alone in my childhood bedroom. But I also know that in this last year, I have been able to concentrate on my artistic endeavors, thrust myself into new projects like voiceover, and also gave myself space: space from my old life, space from the person I had been, space in general (the suburbs are much less crowded than Brooklyn). Since I was still working in the city, it had taken me awhile to really register the change, and it is still something that I am getting used to in a lot of ways. But the risk of making unconventional decisions, decisions that I can imagine other people judge or look sideways at, with the knowledge that it is what is helping me build the life I actually desire, has been a risk that continues to pay off. I am proud that I allowed this to be a turning point. It’s not forever, and I know that the forever I am building on the foundation of this time is one I can be authentically myself.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.amandacenteno.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/amandangeline/

Image Credits

Joshua Lacle, Valerie Terranova, Jillian Brocki, Daisy Rosato