Juan A. Ramirez: Criticism With a Pulse
By Ricky Anderson
At just 29, Juan A. Ramirez has already carved a space for himself in New York’s cultural conversation. Born in Caracas, Venezuela, and raised in West Palm Beach, Florida, Ramirez came to the U.S. at nine years old with a love for Disney movies like Hercules and The Lion King. They weren’t just childhood favorites — they became the gateway that would eventually lead him toward a career in arts criticism.
“I always loved the arts,” Ramirez recalls. “But at a certain point, I realized I didn’t want to be a director. I didn’t have that burning story in me. Acting classes in college showed me I didn’t have the discipline for that either. Writing, though — that felt natural.”
That shift proved decisive. At his mother’s encouragement, Ramirez joined his high school newspaper, instantly gravitating toward arts coverage. By college, at Northeastern in Boston, he found himself pursuing stories with unusual determination. He still remembers bluffing his way into a sold-out Ingmar Bergman screening with Liv Ullmann by convincing both the venue and the student paper he’d be reviewing it. “They were pissed,” he laughs, “but the article got published. That’s when I realized criticism could be my ticket in.”
Boston became an ideal training ground. “The city’s art scene is gorgeous but manageable,” Ramirez says. “By the end of the month, I could say, ‘I’ve seen everything.’ It gave me a foundation in covering theater, film, and galleries — and showed me how arts journalism can act as a bridge between people and culture.”
Eventually, New York called. While completing his master’s in media studies at Columbia, Ramirez deepened his passion for theater. “I moved here for film,” he admits, “but I never stopped going to shows. And ultimately, it’s more fun to see live theater than sit at a 10 a.m. film screening with a watermarked screener.” By the time COVID hit, Ramirez had devoured 500 films in four months — a marathon that, oddly enough, closed the door on his film obsession. “I’d seen the catalog. Theater felt alive in a way film no longer did.”
That pivot led him to Theatrely, where he partnered with fellow critic Kobe Cagle to expand the publication’s voice during the pandemic. By the time Broadway reopened, Ramirez and his colleagues had secured invitations to major press nights — and their pull quotes soon found their way onto marquees. In addition to serving as Chief Critic at Theatrely, Ramírez contributes regularly to outlets including Vogue, The Cut, Them, and New York Magazine, to name a few.
But what truly sets Ramirez apart is his approach to voice. He counts Ben Brantley and Roger Ebert as inspirations, citing their palpable love of the form. “If they got nasty, it was because they knew how beautiful theater and film could be. It wasn’t about cruelty — it was about holding the work to its potential.” Ramirez strives to bring that same balance of affection and accountability to his own writing. “I never want to lose the love. If I’m spending hours in the dark, I have to justify it to myself — and to readers.”
His process is a blend of instinct and rigor. “I jot down immediate reactions in my little notebook — sometimes just the word gag in all caps. Those raw impressions are often the most important later. With new plays, I take pages of notes. With revivals, I focus more on performances and directorial vision. But I always remember: it’s someone’s first time seeing a work. That’s sacred.”
Deadlines keep him sharp. Most outlets give critics less than five days between press performances and opening night. Ramirez lets ideas simmer before writing in one focused burst. “It’s my way of turning procrastination into process,” he jokes. Still, the busiest weeks can mean seeing a show every night and filing within 24 hours. “You can’t be too precious with fast-paced journalism. Sometimes you miss what others catch, but maybe you also notice what others overlook.”
Beyond weighing the influence of reviews, Juan also offered advice on navigating the crowded field of critical voices. Rather than chasing every opinion, he suggested finding the writers whose perspectives consistently resonate — whether through shared taste, thoughtful analysis, or the ability to illuminate something new about a production. In his view, the best critics are not necessarily the loudest but those who invite audiences to think more deeply, even if they disagree with the final verdict.
For Ramirez, criticism isn’t about sitting in judgment. It’s about connection. “I want to function as a bridge — between audiences and the art they might not otherwise encounter. At the end of the day, it’s about reminding people that theater is alive, vital, and worth paying attention to.”