In Dialogue with Jessica Pimentel

Whether she’s stepping onto the Delacorte stage for Romeo & Juliet, navigating the emotional turmoil of Maria Ruiz in Orange Is the New Black, or drawing from a lifetime in music, Jessica Pimentel (1999) approaches her work with openness and curiosity. Below, we’ll explore her process, reflect on the techniques that shaped her career, and look ahead to the stories and collaborations just over the horizon.

The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

Thanks for sitting down with me. You’re back in New York for Shakespeare in the Park this summer. Tell me about the casting process for this.

The casting process was actually quite easy. I got an email while I was in Sweden: “In-person audition for Romeo & Juliet.” I had a mild heart attack before I even read past that. When I saw that it said “role of Prince Escalus,” I thought, “What!, the PRINCE?” I never imagined that for myself.

I got on the next flight. I flew in on Monday, had Tuesday and Wednesday off, and auditioned on Thursday. I worked on two speeches for the audition. Then they called me on Friday to tell me I was cast. It was the most fun.

Tell me about this production of Romeo & Juliet.

This production is of its time but with modern and current flair. When I first saw the costumes…I was squealing. [Laughs.] It’s just lovely. And it’s really beautiful and exciting to see the classics done with such a diverse ensemble. It is truly powerful to be using this production as a statement on current events.

We have a mostly Spanish-speaking cast, and there will be moments where Romeo and Juliet step into their own world and speak in another language; what is said between them is between them.

You’re no stranger to big projects. But I must ask: is there anything daunting about working with the Public?

Shakespeare in the Park in general. I mean, it’s a New York tradition. It’s a rite of passage. A bucket-list experience for so many actors. The sheer scale of it. [The Delacorte] is as big as any Broadway house and it’s full every night. It’s the legacy of it all that feels so important, so mind-blowing. It’s really just a dream come true.

Is there an aspect of your Academy training you’ve taken with you?

Everything. You get so many tools and methods, so many different ways to approach things. Not every character is the same, so I don’t approach every character the same way. Different styles are appropriate at different times.

Sometimes a character works inside out, sometimes outside in. Sometimes you need a gesture. Sometimes it’s something Stanislavski-based, or Meisner, or a song to get you there, or a little of this and a little of that. 

Having access to all those different techniques—that’s something that really helps. It always has, and it always will. It’s never going to hurt.

Can you say more?

Some characters just kind of grow on their own, you know. Others you approach more analytically starting with the script: what everyone says about you, what you say about yourself, what’s happening in each scene. You really take it apart, almost like an autopsy, and try to understand everything mentally before the physicality comes. Other times the physicality leads you–maybe even metaphorically.

For example, my last character had a physicality that was so different from mine, but none of it was written in the script. It came from living that life over and over. She had been holding onto so many secrets and trauma. She’s holding all of that weight. As the weeks went by, I found myself hunching. Hiding. Closing in on myself. I worked with the costume designer to make sure the clothes were loose and baggy to hide my body.

None of that is on the page, but it evolves because of your technique; because you’re open, because your radar is on in so many different ways. That’s what training gives you. It’s not always spelled out for you, but it allows you to find it.

Being open sounds essential to your process.

Letting go of that initial emotion is usually the hardest part. When we first read a play, we immediately start imagining ourselves in it: “I’m going to do it like this and like that!” But you have to let go of all that once you’re actually working. 

Because not only will you change, but the work you’re getting from your castmates will evolve too. You start discovering things—together or separately—that might not serve the idea you originally had. And you have to be open to that.

Do you like to create a backstory for them?

I think they’re important sometimes, depending on the role. Some people love building really elaborate backstories. Almost full biographies. One of my co-stars in my last show created an entire life from when her character was born to when we met her. Depending on the character, I may or may not go that far. But I always want to know where my character is when she’s not on stage. 

I ask the questions: Where did I go? Did I go to work? Well, who’s at work? Is Ricky there? He’s always late. Susan brought her pumpkin pie again. Manuel’s there—I can’t stand that guy. [Laughs.] So you build this living world before and after each scene.

So specific. Orange Is the New Black: working with such a strong ensemble. Tell me about this experience.

It was a huge chunk of our lives. Seven or eight years. Starting a year before it was released, back in September 2012. We really grew up together. The structure of the show meant we had these little pockets of people we were always working with. One of the most fun times was during season finales when those pockets exploded and we all got to intermingle.

I remember the season with the riot, I worked with these two kooky characters. I thought, “You guys have been in a comedy this whole time.” It’s so nice to get to laugh at work, because Maria is always in this place where her world is crashing down.

I would often follow that same rhythm. I kept myself a bit separated from the rest of the cast at times. I had scenes where I needed to be emotionally destroyed. I was surrounded by this wonderful, funny, talented group of people who were great to be around—but I couldn’t just switch it on and off. Some people can, I can’t always do that. I’d often find myself in a corner, listening to music to get into Maria’s world.

Does this, and I don’t mean to overstep by asking this, but when dealing with such heavy material, does it stick with you?

Of course—and those of you who know me personally, or know my theater career, know I usually gravitate toward really heavy material. I feel like if I'm going to do it, I should go all the way.

It affects me. The characters affect me. You have to find compassion for them and you have to understand what they’re going through. And you have to put yourself in those imagined circumstances. And sometimes, those circumstances aren’t entirely imaginary; you may have gone through something similar yourself.

You have to be careful–you’re finding memories that are safe enough to bring back up and use for inspiration, but not so fresh that you’re re-living. It’s a fine line. I have a playlist that gets me into and out of a show. I even have my in-case-of-emergency-break-glass playlist for when I need to go somewhere really dark. It’s a set of songs I only listen to when I need to get to a place where I’m in tears. I don’t use it in everyday life, but when I need it for the character, it puts me exactly where I need to be.

It gives you an immediate trigger.

“Trigger,” yeah. I have certain songs that are trigger songs for sure. And I have songs for everything—not just to cry, but some to feel happy, or get into the world of the play, some to get out of costume, or to warm up. Music is a really wonderful tool for me. It helps me get there right away without forcing or pushing.

Tell me about your music.

I was a musician first, starting as a classical violinist and playing orchestra. I played Carnegie Hall and toured all over the world. As a kid I was playing too much and developed nerve damage in my hands that I still have. I was at LaGuardia High School studying music my first year. I really wanted to stay there, so they allowed me to audition for drama for my second year.

What I found with drama and acting was very different from music. I came from a classical world that was extremely competitive; all about getting that first chair. I’m really grateful the shift happened before being so driven stopped me from loving it. It becomes more about sport than art.

Drama gave me something else. It was a release. It was about my imagination and allowed me to stay open-minded and open-hearted in a way that I think is necessary when you’re on a difficult career path. You have to keep that sense of wonder. It gave me the ability to choose what feels right for me, rather than what I feel I have to do.

Shakespeare in the Park is coming up. What else is on the horizon?

The industry has been very strange over the last few years. Starting with the pandemic, we were thrown into an unclear loop. Every opportunity is a blessing.

I hope to explore more dark material. I’d also like to do more work made by my friends and with my friends and people I admire. I have so many friends who are incredibly talented playwrights, screenwriters, and filmmakers. I’d love to collaborate with them more and lift each other up and get into producing more impactful works.

That’s really the goal: fulfilling work, not filler work.

And with Shakespeare in the Park, I’m hoping people see me in a new light. I was seen for so many years as one character, one type of person, and it became difficult for people to see beyond that.

But mostly, I am hoping that people see the parallels between this story and current events. And that hearts soften, and hope gives people renewed strength.

More on Jessica Pimentel’s goings-on here. R&J opens at the Delacorte on May 22nd, and runs through June 28th.