We’re looking forward to introducing you to Arianna Wellmoney. Check out our conversation below.
Arianna, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: Have any recent moments made you laugh or feel proud?
Just recently, my theatre company Wellmoney Productions was featured on a billboard in Times Square. It was such a full-circle moment — I remember being 18, visiting New York for the first time, and dreaming of seeing myself up there one day. And then it happened. Seeing my face, along with my collaborators’ on one of those giant screens felt surreal.
I went to see it with my best friend Ana Paula at midnight — we stayed up late just to catch it on time, and the next day I went back with my cast mates Megan Catalina and Christian Prins Coen and director Bradly Valenzuela. We were laughing, taking videos, cheering each other on. It wasn’t just a proud moment for me — it was something I got to share with some of the people who built it with me. That made it even more special.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi! My name is Arianna Wellmoney — I’m an Italian-born playwright, actor, and producer based in New York City. I’m the founder of Wellmoney Productions, a theatre and film company that creates work that’s funny, tender, sometimes chaotic, but always rooted in truth.
I started writing plays because I wasn’t seeing stories I could fully relate to, especially as an immigrant and a woman. So I started telling my own. My most recent play, Rip Jabari, You Would’ve Loved the Apple Dance, just premiered at the Audacious Owl Theatre Festival.
With my stories, I don’t pretend to have all the answers — I just want people to feel a little more seen.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
I think what breaks the bonds between people is usually a mix of fear, ego, and silence. Miscommunication. Pride. Feeling unseen or unheard and not knowing how to express that. Sometimes life just pulls people in different directions before they even realize what’s happened.
What restores those bonds? Vulnerability. Someone going first. Saying “I miss you” or “I was wrong.” Humor helps too! Laughter can be a bridge. And time, giving each other the space to come back with more compassion and less armor.
As a playwright, I’m obsessed with moments like that, the breaking and the repair. That tension is where a lot of my work lives.
When did you stop hiding your pain and start using it as power?
I think I stopped hiding my pain and started using it as power when I decided to write my first play, “I’m sorry I can’t make it, my uncle’s hamster has passed and I’m reading the eulogy at the funeral.” The title is ridiculous, (on purpose) but the story underneath was incredibly personal. It came from a place of feeling deeply overwhelmed, emotionally stuck, and disconnected from the people around me.
Writing it helped me process those feelings without needing to explain or apologize for them. I could make people laugh and then catch them off guard with something true. That’s when I realized: pain doesn’t have to be this shameful, private thing. It can be a tool. A connector. Even a kind of superpower.
Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
One of the biggest lies the theatre and film industries tell themselves is that there’s not enough room: not enough budget, not enough audience interest, not enough space for “too many” marginalized voices. But that scarcity mindset is just an excuse to maintain the status quo. In reality, there’s more than enough room! What’s lacking is the willingness to shift power, to let new voices lead, and to challenge what’s always been done.
Another lie is that representation is a box to check. There’s this idea that once a season or a lineup includes one “diverse” story or one artist of color or one queer narrative, the work is done. But true inclusivity is about more than optics. It’s about equity in decision-making. Who’s writing the stories? Who’s directing? Who’s producing? Who’s in the audience? And who gets paid fairly? You can’t claim progress if the same gatekeepers are still in charge of what gets funded, programmed, and celebrated.
There’s also a quieter lie: that success has to look a certain way. That if you’re not on Broadway, not going viral, not signed to a major agency, you’re not “making it.” But I’ve seen the most powerful, soul-shifting art happen in tiny rehearsal rooms, on small stages, with no budget and all heart. Intimacy, truth, and collaboration can’t be commodified.
In my theatre company, Wellmoney Productions, I try to remind the audience that humor and heartbreak belong in the same breath, and that underrepresented artists shouldn’t need to “wait their turn” to be heard.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I hope people say that I lived every day like it was my last, that I didn’t wait for perfect timing, or permission, or guarantees. That I loved loudly, made weird art with my whole chest, laughed even when things were heavy, and always tried to show up for people with softness and honesty.
Even if it sounds sappy, I’d want to be remembered as someone who made others feel seen. Someone who turned pain into something meaningful, who chased joy even when it was hard to find. And who never stopped believing that storytelling, even in its messiest, most chaotic form, could bring people together.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.ariannawellmoney.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ariannawellmoney
- Other: https://www.instagram.com/wellmoneyproductions
Image Credits
BECCAvision, assistant Sara Pizzi
Joan Dwiartanto
