The courage to take risks and run towards the unknown with open arms has been instrumental in the growth of actor and director Charles Azulay’s various careers – to which he recently added “author” to the growing list. Azulay’s new memoir Uncoloured explores his tumultuous life through a lens of narrative storytelling, and in doing so, brings a breath of fresh air into the genre of autobiography.
Through his range of interests and callings, Azulay has deepened his understanding of himself and our world – and he continues to explore what identity and resilience mean to him. Being a transracial adoptee, he often felt that his adoptive family did not understand or connect with his roots. “I grew up feeling not very supported,” he explains. And this led him to seek external validation and acceptance. But he felt that, to receive affirmation, he had to be “on”. His typical thought process was, “If I do this, somebody will like me”.
After leaving home at fifteen, Azulay was homeless. He lived in a shelter and eventually found a boarding house and secured government assistance. This unstable home environment ended up guiding Azulay to the theatre and music – where he found solace and growth and a sense of belonging. “I wanted more of that,” he says simply. “I wanted that feeling of, ‘I’m good at this, and people like it when I do this’. And who doesn’t want that?”. And since acting was what he wanted to do, he decided that he would go to the biggest, best place to do it. So when he finished high school at 17 after a lot of hard work, he raced to New York as quickly as he could. “I had no fear,” he smiles. “I just wanted to get out.”
Azulay was just 18 when he took the stage in the cast of Les Misérables, and has since added to his resume credits from Mamma Mia and Miss Saigon to Cats and West Side Story. He has also participated in six national tours around the United States and Canada and received a Dora Award nomination. But even though he has loved theatre, and it was the place where he found his first big success, a part of him always understood that much of his passion for acting comes from the positive reinforcement people give him when he performs.
“Success equals love” was like a refrain, and he knew the core melody was connected to his childhood. It did not seem like a coincidence that, when his career started to pick up, his family dynamics began to change for the better. But he wondered . . . if he were to stop acting, would the love go away?
In asking and exploring these hard questions, Azulay began to cultivate a sense of identity. To him, identity is about belonging. And yes, for a long time, that meant theatre. But the truth is “I’m still trying to find my sense of identity. It’s a continuous thing that we will do throughout our lives, but I think I got the basics down!” To come to this realization, it’s been important for Azulay to experiment with different skills and careers – things that he can do for himself without feeling as though he has to be ‘on’. He’s always been someone who is busy learning new things, and “having been an actor, I have less fear than most people. In rehearsal, you go out there, you try something, and maybe it doesn’t work. But you keep trying things until you find what does.”
Uncoloured was born during COVID-19. Azulay had always been told that he had good stories and should write. When the world shut down, he got to thinking that it might not be a bad idea. “Most people decided to get Peloton bikes, but I decided to wallow in my own self-pity and eat pie,” he laughs. As he started writing about his life, Azulay realized that he had a lot to let go of. One source of inspiration was his two daughters: “I wanted my kids to know who I was before they came along, and my struggles when they were here. There’s a lot of things I never got to ask my mother before she passed. There’s a lot I don’t know about her. And I didn’t want that to happen with my kids.”
Because this memoir was the first book Azulay had written, he was nervous. “I didn’t want to write a typical memoir,” he explains. “I wanted to frame it like a story that could almost read as fiction”. Despite his initial jitters, he felt immediately and unusually connected to the writing process. The reason? It was something he had full control of. There were no limiting parameters being set by a director’s creative preferences, so it became a personal and empowering creative outlet. “I’ve really fallen in love with being able to write,” he admits. “It feels so good to be able to tell stories. I’m used to being on stage and telling stories in that way – becoming characters. I feel so in control of this”. And with his own example as the proof point, Azulay expresses his belief that everyone can – and should – write. He tells people all the time, “you don’t have to have anything published, but tell your story”.
One of the hardest parts about writing the memoir was reconciling his family and childhood. His adoptive mother had a difficult time with people of color, and it was hard for Azulay because her challenges came not from a place of hate, but a place of ignorance. Growing up in Glasgow during World War Two, she never saw people of colour. Her limited understanding of them was derived from television and movies. As a result, Azulay grew up without ever feeling a sense of true belonging. Despite – or perhaps because of – this, he continues striving to make life choices that ground him and centre him in a place of love and growth. Through his experiences, he has learned and found the tools he needs to be the best possible father.
Azaulay’s advice for all parents, and especially those who have adopted outside of their race, is to offer unconditional love and support. As a parent, you may not be able to give certain things to your child. But when a child feels that they have not found their place, or do not fully belong, you cannot take it personally. “It’s not about you as a parent, and it’s not just about race,” advises Azulay, “It’s about a sense of belonging. You might not understand it, but you have to support them in finding their identity – whatever that identity is.” Many people have never been supported in trying new things – and have never had someone to guide and encourage them, and let them know it’s okay if they don’t get it right and don’t find success. Positive encouragement is critical for raising children and building their resilience: just like plants have the sun, children need warm and supportive energy to encourage their growth.
Readers of Uncoloured frequently tell Azulay that the memoir needs to become a movie. And as it turns out, he wrote it with a screenplay in mind: “As I was writing it, I also saw it play out like a film or a play.” And he is currently writing a second book. He describes it as not exactly a sequel . . . though it starts where the memoir ends. And while it does not represent a full reconciliation, the book does explore the feelings and tensions between Charles and his parents – particularly his father – and how their relationship has evolved.
Ultimately, the career paths, interests and skills that Azulay has pursued have interconnected and ended up nourishing each other. His resilience shines through in almost everything he’s involved himself in: from finding support in the arts and a broader sense of community and belonging, to digesting difficult emotions and writing them out in a journey of personal growth.
He continues to explore himself, deepen his sense of identity, and navigate life with grace and determination. And in the process, he continues to transform his personal experiences into something beautiful that people – all people – can deeply connect with.
Uncoloured is published by Friesen Press and available widely.
© Emilia Voudouris, SesayArts Magazine, 2024
