Ramón Valdez (right) with fellow SDA staff members Mabel Lopez and Sergio Ramirez in the lobby of the Bing Theatre. (Photo by Delphine Vasko)
For our Alumni Q&A series, we caught up with Ramón Valdez BA ’11 about his work as managing director of Rogue Machine Theatre, the lessons he carries from his stage management training and the power of theatre to ask difficult questions.
Tell us a little bit about your professional background.
In addition to working as part of the admissions team for the USC School of Dramatic Arts, I also serve as the managing director for Rogue Machine Theatre. From time to time, I also stage manage some of our productions. While I have done some occasional work with other companies, including Center Theatre Group and the Ojai Playwrights Conference, I was lucky to find my home base at Rogue Machine very quickly.
How long have you been associated with Rogue Machine, and what does your role as managing director involve day to day?
I began working with Rogue Machine in 2011, joining shortly after graduating from USC. My function as managing director is to consider the health and well-being of the organization across all matters. Day to day, there’s no telling what’s going to happen, but I know for sure there’s going to be a lot of emailing and texting involved. Gathering, distilling, and disseminating information is a lot of what I do. This can range from handling contracts, reviewing budgets, and managing ticketing to engaging with the board of directors, ensuring compliance, developing and implementing governance protocols and policies, focusing on our social responsibility and, as necessary, taking out the trash.
Rogue Machine has a reputation for being one of the most artistically adventurous theatres in Los Angeles right now. How does the work you do support and sustain that identity from the operational side?
Producing theatre in 2026 looks different from how it did in 2008, when Rogue Machine was founded, or even in 2011, when I joined the company. Things are more expensive, and attention spans are shorter. What hasn’t changed is the inherent risk that comes with producing theatre as a nonprofit—regardless of the shows you do. The work Rogue Machine gravitates toward doesn’t offer many answers; that’s not what we’re after. We engage with material because it poses questions and raises topics meant to dare audiences to become invested citizens.
On a practical level, sustaining that identity involves a lot of risk management. I need to consider the impact the work has on the artists involved—that’s why we hire fight choreographers and intimacy directors—as well as on the audience. The question “How is this going to be received?” goes beyond “Are they going to like it?”
A few seasons ago, we presented the world premiere of The Beautiful People by Tim Venable. The play follows two seemingly innocuous teenage boys during a sleepover, ultimately revealing them to be Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold preparing for the Columbine shooting. The first run-through I saw was on the day of the Uvalde shooting, just as we were preparing to go into tech. We knew from the start that the show would provoke a visceral response, and that day’s events only underscored the weight of what we were exploring.
So, what do you do? You develop plans, schedule talkbacks and offer resources. You lean in. A wound does not heal by being ignored; you have to examine it, assess the damage and tend to it. Only then can healing begin.
Theatre serves as a reminder of what was and what could be. The audience exists in the middle, forced to consider how things are. We just hope audiences trust us enough to go on the adventure with us.
Your career in theatre started as a stage manager. What lessons from your SDA training do you apply to your professional life?
My training as a stage manager informs every aspect of my life. I view the art form of stage management as a methodology by which I can center and calm the spaces I exist in, regardless of the theatrics. Stage management is a responsibility. I am responsible to the script, the artists involved, the space, the audience and, most importantly, myself. I know what I am capable of, what I bring to the table, and what it means to get the job done. I don’t get hired because I can do the job. Anyone can learn the rules and do the job. I get hired because of how I do the job.
I am grateful that being at SDA afforded me the opportunity to focus on the “how” and not just on the “what.” The hands-on approach to learning this craft taught me how to navigate many of the challenges I encounter in the professional world. There will always be scheduling conflicts, you’ll always need to know how to communicate with different populations that each need different information, and you’ll always have contrasting personalities in a room competing for attention.
What was your most memorable moment at USC?
During my last semester at USC, I enrolled in a creativity course offered by the occupational therapy department. The professor told us a story about once being late to a meeting because, on the walk there, she encountered a butterfly. Naturally, her instinct was to follow the butterfly through campus. And she did. What a succinct lesson in being present, following your impulses, and saying “yes, and” to life.
What do you miss about being a student at SDA?
The thing I miss the most is that I had the time to be a student, when my only priority was to learn. What a privilege. Learning, of course, is not limited to the classroom, nor does it end upon graduation. It’s an ongoing endeavor, something I still practice. But the chance to incubate and germinate in community with your peers as they process and develop alongside you, that’s the gift. There is so much to be learned in the doing of a thing, but there is just as much to be gained by observing your classmates as they work through the thing.
Was there a class or professor that was particularly meaningful or influential during your time at the School? Why?
All of them. I liberally steal and borrow from every class I took (including my GEs) all the time. A particular moment that stands out is the day Stephanie Shroyer came into rehearsal for Balm in Gilead talking with one of the actors about a melody she had stuck in her head and was trying to place. She started sounding it out in hopes that someone in the room might recognize it. Slowly, each actor started adding their own sounds, giving the thing shape. Soon, the coffee mugs, utensils, plates, and even the set itself became instruments, adding texture to the spontaneous orchestration.
It had nothing to do with the show, but it had everything to do with the show. For those unfamiliar with Lanford Wilson’s Balm in Gilead, the show takes place in a diner, has nearly 30 characters, and they’re usually all onstage at the same time, talking at the same time. Stephanie’s conducting that day was a lesson in listening and finding your way in so that the audience understands what you’re trying to say. That’s what everyone working in theatre is trying to do. Appreciate the machinations of the mind at play. Know what you have to contribute, know when to contribute, and know that you can contribute.
What productions did you work on?
I worked on Our Lady of 121st Street by Stephen Adly Guirguis; The Bluest Eye, adapted by Lydia R. Diamond from Toni Morrison’s novel; Balm in Gilead by Lanford Wilson; Mrs. Packard by Emily Mann; La Ronde by Arthur Schnitzler; Urinetown by Greg Kotis and Mark Hollmann and See What I Wanna See by Michael John LaChiusa, both with Musical Theatre Repertory (MTR); Baal by Bertolt Brecht; and The Grapes of Wrath, adapted by Frank Galati from John Steinbeck’s novel.
What do you wish you had known as a student about the management and operations side of theatre?
Creating theatre in a collegiate environment is not that different from doing it in the professional world. For many years, I have oscillated between two worlds—USC and Rogue Machine. The longer I’m engaged in both, the more the two overlap. Since the founding of Rogue Machine, there have always been SDA alums involved, and over the years, we’ve continued to cast and hire alums to work on our shows. At the same time, folks I’ve worked with at Rogue Machine have also come to teach and direct at USC.
So, it’s not a matter of trying to get into the industry or become a professional. By studying theatre at USC, you’re already in the industry; you’re already a professional. “The Great Work Begins,” to borrow from Tony Kushner.