Acting in a Different Voice

Studio note on language, memory, and casting across borders

It happens sometimes. I’ll be in line at the bakery or chatting with someone at the flea market, and my brain stops. Mid-sentence. The Danish word slips away — not gone, just out of reach — and I hear myself say, “Hvad er det nu, det hedder?”

I’ve spoken Danish all my life. But after years of working in English, it’s like my language has acquired seams. You can’t always see them, but I feel them. Little delays. A shift in tone. Something slightly out of step.

My American accent began in Northern California. I was sixteen, living in a small mountain town as an exchange student, and didn’t realize how much I was absorbing until someone pointed it out. After three months, even the local postman thought I was from there.

Years later, the rhythm of that voice still sits in me. Not something I put on — just a shape my English settled into.

On set, it’s a quiet kind of asset. Casting directors will pause. “You’re Danish? ” It opens up conversations. Sometimes roles. Sometimes just a longer look.

A boom operator on a Canadian shoot once leaned in and said, “Danish?” She didn't believe me. She’d worked on The X-Files and other shows shot in Canada and knew voices. I just smiled.

I work across borders now — London, Copenhagen, Vancouver, wherever the project leads me. And the way I speak, like the way I work, has been shaped by that movement. It’s not just an accent. It’s pacing. Stillness. Listening.

The first time I heard my voice on tape, I was surprised by how calm it sounded. Not flat — just steady. Like someone telling you something quietly that matters.

I think that’s still true.

If you're curious to hear how it all sounds, I’ve shared a few recent clips and notes over on the Acting page.

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