Schön! Interview: Darwin Del Fabro

Darwin Del Fabro was never outside the world of performance — it was the air she breathed. Growing up in Brazil, surrounded by music and theatre, Del Fabro understood early on that the stage wasn’t a dream but a destiny. At thirteen, she left home for Rio de Janeiro, trading childhood for a leap of faith that made one truth clear: performing wasn’t a pastime, it was survival. “That leap made it clear to me: this wasn’t a hobby or an experiment — it was my life’s work,” she expressed to Schön!.

Since then, Del Fabro has become a force across stage, film, and music, navigating each medium with the same fierce commitment to honesty. But her latest work, ‘LILI/DARWIN’ at The Tank in New York City, feels different — less like a performance and more like an unveiling. In it, Del Fabro intertwines her own story with that of Lili Elbe, one of the first known recipients of gender-affirming surgery, blurring the line between past and present, history and self.

Schön! chats with Del Fabro about ‘LILI/DARWIN,’ her early beginnings, and more.

What first drew you to performing, and when did you realize that theatre and music were your calling?

I grew up surrounded by music and theatre; it was never something outside of me, it was always the air I breathed. From a very young age, I understood that performing wasn’t a choice but rather a necessity, a language through which I could express what words alone could never contain. I think the moment I realized it was my calling was when I moved to Rio de Janeiro at thirteen, leaving part of my family behind to chase that dream. That leap made it clear to me: this wasn’t a hobby or an experiment — it was my life’s work.

How has your Brazilian heritage influenced your artistry and the stories you choose to tell?

Brazil is a country of contradictions: vibrant beauty and deep pain, endless music and lingering silence around difficult truths. That duality is inside me. Our music, especially samba and bossa nova, carries both joy and melancholy, and I try to bring that same layered complexity to everything I do. My heritage grounds me in rhythm and emotion, but it also reminds me that stories can be political acts—especially stories that confront identity, freedom, and selfhood.

You’ve worked across stage, film, and music—how do you navigate these different mediums, and what do you take from each?

Each medium teaches me something new about intimacy and scale. Theatre demands presence; it’s about being fully alive in one moment with an audience. Film, on the other hand, invites precision; the camera catches the smallest detail, so honesty becomes non-negotiable. Music is where I breathe — it connects me back to my body and allows emotions to take shape without explanation. When I move between them, I don’t separate the tools; instead, I let them inform one another.

What has been the most defining role or project in your career so far, and why?

Without question, ‘LILI/DARWIN’. It’s the first time I’ve written and performed something that fully merges my own life with the story of another. Embodying Lili Elbe while also revealing Darwin has been transformative, because it’s not about playing a character — it’s about exposing truth, vulnerability, and resilience. It feels less like a role and more like a reckoning.

What challenges have you faced as a queer artist in both Brazil and the U.S., and how have those experiences shaped your work?

In Brazil, queerness often lives under threat — violence and prejudice are daily realities. In the U.S., the challenge is different: it’s more about visibility, representation, and not being placed into reductive boxes. Both contexts have taught me resilience and sharpened my sense of responsibility. I don’t create only for myself—I create for those who may not yet have a stage or a microphone.

What inspired the creation of ‘LILI/DARWIN’, and how did the project first begin?

It began with a fascination for Lili Elbe’s story, one of the earliest people to undergo gender-affirming surgery. But the more I explored her life, the more I felt my own reflections staring back at me. I began writing in dialogue with her, weaving her journey with mine until the lines blurred. The project was born out of that intersection — between history and present, between Lili and me.

The show is described as personal and deeply connected to identity — how much of yourself do you see reflected in it?

All of me. It’s impossible to separate the play from my own existence. Every surgery, every moment of transition, every memory of being seen—or unseen—has found its way into the piece.

Can you describe the collaboration process with The Tank? What makes this venue the right home for this piece?

The Tank has a history of giving artists the freedom to take risks. They don’t ask you to dilute your vision; they ask you to lean deeper into it. That kind of trust is rare. For a show as vulnerable and experimental as ‘LILI/DARWIN’, I needed a home that embraced both its fragility and its audacity. The Tank became that home.

How do music, theatre, and storytelling intersect in ‘LILI/DARWIN’?

For me, they’re inseparable. Music is not an accessory in the show — it’s part of the bloodstream. Theatre provides the body, text provides the voice, and music provides the soul. The intersection is where the piece truly breathes.

What emotions or reflections do you hope audiences leave with after seeing the show?

I hope they leave with questions — about gender, about identity, about the courage it takes to live authentically. But I also hope they leave with empathy, with a sense of connection that transcends labels. At its core, the show is not only about transition — it’s about the universal desire to be seen.

What was the biggest artistic risk you took in developing ‘LILI/DARWIN’?

The biggest risk was allowing myself to be completely exposed. It’s far easier to hide behind a character than to merge your own story with theirs. The act of erasing that distance between performer and subject felt terrifying, but that’s also what makes it alive.

How do you approach blending live performance with narrative — do you start from music, text, or character?

It changes. Sometimes a piece of music opens a door; sometimes a fragment of text demands embodiment. But I always return to character—not in the sense of fiction, but in the sense of a lived presence. Whether it’s Lili, Darwin, or the space in between, I begin with the heartbeat of that identity.

Were there any unexpected discoveries during the rehearsal and creation process that shifted the direction of the show?

Yes, the realization that the play wasn’t only about Lili or me. It was also about the audience. Their presence reshaped the rhythm, the silences, the weight of each moment. I discovered that the play only becomes complete when witnessed.

Who are some artists or thinkers who inspired you while developing this piece?

Elis Regina, for her fearless emotional truth. John Logan, for teaching me how to excavate the personal within the historical. Clarice Lispector, whose writing dissolves the line between interior and exterior life. And, of course, Lili herself, for daring to exist against all odds.

After ‘LILI/DARWIN’, what stories or projects are you excited to explore next?

I’m interested in continuing to explore narratives that sit at the crossroads of identity, history, and performance. Music will always be central — I’d love to create an album born from this theatrical work. I’m also developing new writing projects that dive into family, memory, and the unspoken legacies we carry.

photography. Shen Williams-Cohen

fashion. Dot Bass

talent. Darwin Del Fabro

hair. Alexandra DiRoma using Oribe

make up. El DeBratto using Rare Beauty

set design. Ashley Palmer

creative production. Cassidy Cocke

photography assistant. Daniel Cochran

interview. Kelsey Barnes

culture

August 28, 2025

Schön! Magazine

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