Sandra Preciado

As an artist in theatre, I get to wear many different hats, often intertwined.

Besides complicating labels and introductions, dancing between roles continues to expand my playground and provide endless learning.

In my own simple words, I am an explorer of movement, words, and storytelling.


I grew up in the sunny city of Guadalajara, Mexico. As a child, I spent my time in my parent’s music venue, watching artists in rehearsal as they transformed their space into a different world. There, I may have unknowingly committed to a lifetime in the arts.

I’ve been living and working internationally for most of my life. As the only Latin American artist in most rooms, I’ve journeyed toward embracing my own uniqueness. Language and cultural diversity are topics that often inspire my creative work.


Growing up amongst artists, I often witnessed the magical process of creation and performance. Ten years ago, almost by accident, I became a director. In all honesty, I rarely prefer to be anywhere else than in a rehearsal room. I aspire to provide a creative space that is inspiring and authentic for the creation of relevant, provoking work. The challenges of directing can appear as a million-piece puzzle. The process of finding and stringing pieces together really excites me, as it often unravels valuable discoveries. I work with a combination of techniques and rely strongly on exploration and instinct, always seeking to embrace and reflect the essence of all artists involved.


The human body is incomprehensibly amazing. We emote, express, and evolve through movement.

In theatre, there’s a fine balance between finding and creating movement. It’s a space where the organic and theatrical exist together, that’s where my work lives.

Movement in performance ought to be a sensorial experience, as much for the performer as for the spectator. We play with opposites, intentions, and emotions to achieve this.

We use movement to elongate text, music, and stories. The result is both ephemeral and infinite, for movement is life.


Everything is connected. I think art exists as a reminder of that, for those times when we forget.

Performance turns the ethereal nature of connection, visible. Through music, movement, and words, we reconnect with the present moment, with our own senses, and with each other.

It is said that heartbeats can sync with the rhythm of music. That’s connection, as palpable as it gets. There’s nothing like playing a part in the creation of these moments.


I have a passion for language and text. I like to play with words and scramble them around until they become images, memories, or tears.

I’ve been writing stories for as long as I can remember, exploring with different languages and structures.

Words most commonly come to me unannounced, unless I’m searching for them.

My creative tribe is made of a remarkable group of artists, spread all over the world. Together we work as teachers, directors, writers, composers, and performers. We aim to create work that is relevant, moving, and that celebrates each other’s uniqueness.

Arts education is an essential part of my work. For over a decade I’ve been working as a performing arts teacher across disciplines.

As a founding member of the performing arts team at the American School in Switzerland, every year I get to witness young artists from all over the world as they develop their artistry and discover new life skills- learning to collaborate, to trust their instincts, to share ideas, to take up space and be present.

As we open up to creativity and vulnerability, we take giant steps toward the creation of a braver, kinder world.


As a dancer, my body thrives in movement. It is through physical flow that I manage to find my ground and balance. I discovered a passion for sharing this with others through the practice of yoga.

After my first yoga teaching certification, nearly a decade ago, I’ve been leading practitioners from all over the world through different styles of yoga, witnessing their growth and connection with their own bodies.

Yoga is one of the most wholesome physical, mental, and spiritual practices available to us. It serves as a constant reminder of presence and gratitude, and a daily celebration of what our bodies are capable of.


My parents, grandparents, and great grandparents were all born in different countries from one another. Most of them lived their lives far away from their place of birth, and communicated with their spouses and children in their second, third or fourth language.
It took long before I realised how unusual this is.

I come from a bohemian, revolutionary Mexican father, and a half-Bolivian, half-Russo-Hungarian altruistic mother. I find inspiration in their creation of a now historical nest for local artists, performance, and change.

I’ve grown to see reflections of myself in my ancestors as I identify with their nomadic lifestyles, their multilingualism, their creativity, and their seemingly never-ending search.