Bodas de Blood: Lorca’s Passion and Tragedy Reimagined in the Heart of New York City

My guest today is a man of many talents. He’s a classically trained actor, a multilingual performer, and—if rumors are true—a guy who can make 400-year-old Shakespearean kings seem like the life of the party. You’ve seen him in everything from Henry V to Much Ado About Nothing to Moscow Moscow Moscow Moscow Moscow Moscow, and most recently, he took on Blood Wedding—because nothing says “a fun night at the theater” quite like a Spanish tragedy packed with passion, betrayal, and, of course, a little bit of blood.

This electrifying new adaptation of Federico García Lorca’s Blood Wedding, adapted and directed by Celeste Moratti in English and Spanish, united a global ensemble to breathe new life (and maybe a touch of fatalism) into this poetic masterpiece.

Co-produced by First Maria Ensemble and Cambalache Theatre Company, Bodas de Blood didn’t just tell a story of love, betrayal, and fate—it did so across linguistic borders, proving that heartbreak sounds just as devastating in any language.

Joining us to talk about the show, his role, and whether or not he’s finally fluent in Spanish—please welcome Hraban Luyat!

Alright Hraban, let’s start with the basics—how did you first hear about this project? Did someone whisper, ‘Blood Wedding’ to you in a dark alley, or did Celeste Moratti just show up and say, ‘Guess what? We’re doing Lorca, and you’re in it’?”

The latter! The production team had already finalized casting for most roles and they were looking for someone to fill three remaining roles in this play, among which the Father. Celeste [the director] reached out to me because we had worked before in a production of Henry V at the Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater. Just as with Henry V, this play involved improvisation and an unconventional rehearsal process and “going with the flow” so it translated well between productions.

What’s it like to reunite with her on this project? Is she the type of director who says, “Trust the process,” or is it more like, “Do it again, but with 30% more tragedy”?”

Celeste is a true artist. She has faith in the process because she has been through it many times: a long career of illustrious artistic successes stands testament to her vision. She knows how to inspire people and it leads to magic in the rehearsal room. She always manages to loop in excellent artists from all over the world. The musicians involved in this project, Francesco “Papaceccio” Crudele and Francesco Lucia, are Italy’s finest and in very high demand. We had a cast hailing from every corner of Latin America, North America, and Europe. Celeste knows how to bring artists like this together left and right and create an incredible production.

What was it like working with such a diverse group?

It’s a bit like being thrown into a linguistic and cultural blender. Words don’t land the same way for everyone. A joke that works in one culture might be met with puzzled silence in another. Someone’s instinctual response to a line might be entirely different from what you expect because their frame of reference is built on a different mythology. And that’s thrilling! It keeps you on your toes. There’s a sort of creative friction that happens when people bring wildly different perspectives to the table. Sometimes it sparks, sometimes it combusts, but it always fuels something. Plus, actors are already strange creatures. Put together a bunch of them from different corners of the world, each with their own training, their own instincts, their own peculiarities, and you end up with something electric. Theater is about contrast, about tension and release. Working with an international ensemble is just an extension of that principle—onstage and off.

This wasn’t just Blood Wedding—this was a bilingual Blood Wedding. How was it for you to learn text in Spanish? Be honest—did you start off sounding like a guy reading a Spanish menu out loud?

Out of all the languages, Spanish is the easiest to learn, for a simple reason: Spanish speakers are very forgiving about how poorly you speak it. And to learn a language, you need an environment without judgment. Of course, in reality, nothing is a panacea and you’ll still sound like a foreigner regardless, but it turns out it doesn’t matter how foreign you sound; what matters is whether or not you’re self-conscious about it. Particularly on stage! And for that, there is no better environment than a rehearsal room full of Spanish-speaking actors.

What was it about this project that made you say, “Yes, sign me up for a play that requires me to emotionally shatter in two languages”?”

Well, what’s the alternative? A nice, cozy production where I get to sip tea and exchange pleasantries? No, thank you. If I’m not walking out of rehearsal emotionally gutted and questioning my life choices, am I even doing theater?

But in all seriousness—Lorca doesn’t just write plays. He carves them out of flesh and bone. Bodas de Blood isn’t polite, it isn’t restrained—it’s raw, urgent, and completely merciless. And that’s precisely what drew me in. There’s no hiding in a play like this. No room for half-measures. You either hurl yourself into it, body and soul, or you don’t belong in the room.

Do you have a favorite part in the show? Is it a big, dramatic moment or a quiet, intimate scene?

Every time Betty [Amelia, playing Maid] sings Giraba la rueda, I shed a tear. I’m standing with my back to the audience, weeping like a child, and it isn’t because “oh look, that poor man has to give away his only daughter, his house will be empty”—no, it’s just me listening to Betty. It’s the easiest transition going into the next scene. What a blessing to be allowed to listen to that every night and have it be my jumping-off point for the next moment! She truly has a beautiful voice.

Final question—Lorca’s plays are all about fate, love, and destiny. If you had to pick one line from Blood Wedding to sum up your own life philosophy, what would it be? And no pressure, but this might end up on a t-shirt.

“Giraba la rueda” again! Life is the wheel turned by the river of time. She turns and turns, and we all turn with her, dipping once every revolution in the timeless but ever-changing waters that power her. You start, life turns, you’re never in the same spot, but you can see the others on the wheel, and you see them rotate along with you, all on that same wheel. It’s a beautiful image and it fed the entire play for me.

Or acuérdate que sales como una estrella; if you go out, make sure to go out shining like a star. No matter how bad life’s got you down: when you go out, you go out shining. For some reason, that line felt immensely personal.

Before we go, I just have to say, Bodas de Blood was hands down one of the most powerful pieces of theater I’ve seen lately. The music, the rhythms, the sheer energy of it all… at one point, the entire cast was moving and chanting together like some kind of poetic fever dream, and I swear, if I had a tambourine, I would’ve joined in.

Celeste would’ve loved that, hahah.

I need this show to come back. Seriously. I don’t care if I have to start a petition, a Kickstarter, or stand outside theaters dramatically reciting Lorca—more people deserve to experience this. So to everyone involved—please, please bring it back soon! Hraban, it’s your job to deliver my message!

I sure will.

Thank you for joining me today, and I’m looking forward to seeing what’s next for you.

Thank you for having me.