Interview with Maya Shoham

Language has the power to shape our memories, our relationships and our sense of self. In Other Words is a deeply personal and thought-provoking exploration of identity, belonging and the stories we tell through the words we speak. Ahead of the show's Edinburgh Fringe run, I caught up with Maya, the show's creator and performer, to discuss transforming personal experiences into theatre, exploring the complexities of language and identity, and why this intimate story has resonated so strongly with audiences.

What first drew you to In Other Words, and what made you want to tell this story?

I received a belated birthday letter from my friend Max in August 2024. It had the usual “happy birthday” and “wish you all the best,” but when it got to the “this is who you are to me” section, I realized this wasn’t an ordinary birthday letter. It was the most profound birthday letter ever written.

The way Max described me, the adjectives he used, those words - they did something to me. I felt like I was being invented through them. Like they were a kind of validation that suddenly made who I am official. The power of words dawned on me: how they can shape us, name us, change the world around us. I was moved to tears - and to action. I had to write about this! And theater felt like the right place for investigation, because theater is also built on the peculiar agreement that words can make things real.

The show explores language and identity in such a thoughtful way. Why were those themes important for you to explore?

I rely on words to be understood. I think most of us do. But as a bilingual, I’m very aware that every word I use is a choice. Sometimes a word exists in Hebrew and not in English. Sometimes the translation is technically correct, but the feeling disappears.

I’ve always had this careful, deliberate relationship with words: using them as a writer, a performer, a person trying to connect. But while writing the play, I also started noticing the other side of that: the dependency. What happens when I need words so badly that I don’t know who I am without them? That tension felt important to explore.

How much of Maya can audiences expect to find within the performance?

This is a great question, and I have a potentially annoying answer: that is the question I hope the audience will ask themselves during the show. Which Maya is steering the wheel right now: the character or the writer? Is any of this spontaneous? Is everything pre-determined? Is the character a living person or a carefully assembled persona built by words?

Did I answer the question? No. But this is the answer, in a way.

How has the piece developed into the production audiences will see at the Fringe?

When I started writing, I was mostly thinking about the power of words. But when my director, Eden Zamir, joined the team, there was an important pivot: the power of words is even more interesting in theater.

We worked on the script for nearly a year. I would write a draft, read it to Eden, we would discuss it, and then I would rewrite and workshop things. We had a reading in Eden’s living room full of wine, popcorn, and our dearest friends, and got the feedback we needed to keep going. In October, we put on a workshop performance at The Chain Theatre in Midtown NYC in front of an intimate group of trusted artists whose opinions we really wanted. That’s also when Tessa Faye, our now-producer, joined the team.

Since then, we’ve been rehearsing, rewriting, and throwing ideas around to make sure the show is ready for the Fringe. Our most recent addition is Yair Ben-Dor, who has a bit of a secretive part in the creation of this show. I won’t elaborate. You might just have to come see the show to find out (winky face).

What was the biggest creative challenge in bringing such personal and sometimes abstract ideas to the stage?

Honestly? The biggest challenge was being honest. I read somewhere recently that you don’t have to share facts in order to tell the truth. But telling the truth, even through made-up stories, is terrifying! I owed it to the piece, and to every person who might join our audience, to dig deep and be honest. That was the only way to make this story what it is today.

Did creating the show teach you anything new about yourself?

This might sound cheesy (sue me), but the show taught me that I can do this. Paying all this money to go to the Fringe? With a solo show? That’s extremely exposing and vulnerable? What crazy person would choose to do that?! And still, here I am. Doing just that. And more importantly, not alone. Every show I work on reminds me how much of a team sport theater is, and none of this would’ve been possible without my team and the people who supported the show through all its variations. So the show reminded me of that, and taught me that it is, indeed, possible to have a dream and then achieve it. It did sound cheesy, didn’t it?

Theatre often allows audiences to experience ideas rather than simply hear about them. What does live performance offer this story that another medium couldn't?

We all sign an invisible contract when we go to the theater: we suspend our disbelief. Of course, the fact that there are train sounds and someone pretends to hold a subway pole doesn’t really mean there’s a train on stage. But we all agree to believe there is one!

That agreement is essential to this story. The show isn’t just talking about words, or explaining them. It’s asking the audience to participate in their power in real time. That can only happen live, with people in the room, choosing to believe together.

Humour plays an important role throughout the piece. Why was laughter just as important as reflection?

The simple answer is - because there are existential questions to be asked in our lifetime, and it shouldn’t be dreadful to try and answer them. Actually, this isn’t simple at all. But my point is - I take my work seriously, but the work doesn’t take itself too seriously. I mean, theater is make-believe! It’s play! We can discuss the most important topics there are to discuss, but in the theater, I think we have to have a sense of humor about it. Not making light of anything - just making light of how we talk about it.

What do you hope audiences take away from the performance?

I hope everyone comes out of this show asking themselves a bunch of questions. What’s their relationship with words? With self-articulation and definitions? What does word dependency look like? Do words have too much power? Not enough? WHAT ARE WORDS?!

Edinburgh audiences are known for embracing original work. What excites you most about bringing In Other Words to the Fringe?

What other festival, what other place in the world, can you come to knowing absolutely no one and still have people come listen to your life story? The people who go to the Fringe are just the best people. It’s the ideal theater audience - people who are, for lack of a better term, down. Down to see cool, weird, unique, out-of-the-box work. Down to engage and connect. I’m so excited to share In Other Words with the greatest audience a performer can ask for. It’s the audience that excites me more than anything. It’s always the audience.

Blending warmth, humour and heartfelt honesty, In Other Words offers audiences a powerful reminder of the connections language can create, and the barriers it can sometimes build. I would like to thank Maya for taking the time to speak with me about the show, and more information about the show can be found via the Fringe website.