Closing Lizzie

Some shows ask you to perform. Lizzie the Musical demands that you show up with your whole body, your whole voice, and your whole damn soul. From the first distorted chord to the final scream, this show is a rock concert fueled by rage, resilience, and four women who refuse to be quiet.

This show is a full-throttle, kick-ass rock concert disguised as a musical—four women on stage, shredding vocals, bleeding emotion, and telling a story that refuses to be quiet or polite. From the first chord to the last scream, Lizzie demands everything from you, and somehow gives even more back.

I had the absolute joy of playing Emma Borden, Lizzie’s sister—a role that lives in the complicated space between love, fear, loyalty, and survival. She loves Lizzie deeply, yet struggles to understand her. She wants freedom, but has been trained to obey. That tension sat in my bones every performance, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

We were guided by the incredible Jennifer Hopkins, who directed and choreographed the production with precision, ferocity, and deep care for the story and the people telling it. Jennifer created a rehearsal room that was brave and collaborative, allowing us to take risks and trust our instincts while still holding the reins of a tight, explosive vision.

And at the heart of the music was Marika Courtouris, our music director and absolute rock goddess. Marika pushed us vocally while keeping us safe, supported, and grounded in the storytelling. This score is no joke—it’s vocally demanding and emotionally relentless—and her leadership made it possible for us to go all in every single night.

Lizzie reminded me why I love theatre: the kind that’s loud, female-driven, emotionally honest, and a little dangerous. The kind that lets women take up space—sonically, physically, unapologetically. Getting to be part of that at Keegan Theatre was an honor, a thrill, and an experience I’ll carry with me for a long time.

If you ever get the chance to see Lizzie the Musical, take it. And bring earplugs—just in case. 🎸🔥