Putting a personal spin on a family recipe can be a challenge. All the more so when that tried and tested formula involves cooking up a professional dance career by mixing equal parts energy, talent, and hard work.
But in making the post-pandemic leap from performer to choreographer, that’s just what Genny Sermonia has done. And as she steps into that creative role for Theatre Aquarius and the Grand Theatre’s spring co-production of the musical Waitress, she has her big brother Julius’ full support — since he’s part of the production’s ensemble, his dancing features in her tastefully measured and precisely crafted choreographic offerings.
When I first meet Genny (over Zoom), she’s appearing as a guest speaker for What Writing Can Do: The 2025 Musical Theatre Critics Lab, in which I’m participating. Joining the call from a cosy, lamplit living room in Niagara-on-the-Lake, she’s bubbly, funny, and positive as she describes growing up as the youngest sister in a family of four. She reminisces about watching her two older brothers, Julius and Jason, become celebrated professional dancers straight out of high school. (Both have performed on Broadway, as well as at the Stratford Festival, where Jason is currently the dance captain for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.)
She describes collaborating with director Rachel Peake on the casting of Waitress, and shares how having input into the process enables her to build a choreographic language that really highlights the cast’s talents. She’s particularly excited to work with seasoned dancer Julia McLellan, who plays protagonist Jenna, a small town pie-maker with a sweet disposition (and an unexpected bun in the oven). Genny explains that even though the role isn’t typically dance-heavy (Sara Bareilles, the musical’s composer, has played her multiple times despite not having extensive dance training), putting a dancer in the role creates more opportunities to tell the story through movement.
Toward the end of the Q&A, when she mentions that Julius is part of the ensemble, I smell a story cooking. Thanks to the team at the Grand, I’m invited to attend a rehearsal to watch Genny — and Julius — in action.

Genny greets me warmly as I arrive in the rehearsal hall. Casually sporty in army green leggings and a black puffer vest, her hair in a perfect beach wave, she confesses she’s nervous I’m there observing. But by the time Julius rolls in at 10 a.m. sharp, Genny appears to have already forgotten I’m there. Her rapport with the team is easy, and her passion soon seems to transport her into a space of deep focus.
Today, they’re working on the final 24 bars of “Love You Like A Table,” a comedic wedding vow duet sung by quirky tax auditor Ogie (Tyler Pearse) and eccentric waitress Dawn (Elysia Cruz), featuring the ensemble on doo-wop background vocals. Genny begins the session not by teaching steps, but by gathering the cast in a huddle to discuss each character’s emotional arc. She leads with curiosity and invites collaboration. Most of her directions are phrased as offers: “Could we try this?,” “Does that feel right?”
She’s in her element as she responds with lighthearted humour to one actor’s questions, then lets the ensemble run through some steps as she confers quietly with another cast member, who spends most of the number seated onstage. She tends to his subtle movements with as much care as she does the ensemble’s carefree yet technically challenging wooden spoon drumline. Everyone in the room responds to her with enthusiasm.
Genny’s giving chef energy, stirring things up on one burner, turning down the heat on another, adding a hint of spice to a dancer’s arm flourish, dialing back the saltiness on a hair toss, highlighting the unique flavour of each choreographic ingredient. She steers clear of early correction, instead opting to let things simmer and develop before tweaking.

“Oh my gosh, it works!” she delightedly exclaims when the piece comes together, and we all giggle, as Julius quietly beams from his upstage position.
“What I love about Genny is her collaborative nature, the way she makes people feel that they’re part of the process,” Julius explains later that day, singing his sister’s praises. “I know a lot of people working with us are watching the [sibling] dynamic. There has been an adjustment for me, holding back and watching her do her thing. She is doing an amazing job. I’m her biggest fan.”
Asked what his sister’s secret ingredient for success is, he slightly reframes the question: “Patience and timing, in every aspect. It’s not just the ingredients, it’s when to use them.”

Two weeks later, over the phone, Genny elaborates on her choreographic recipe, pointing to the music as central. “I love finding the story and motivation behind every movement, trying to use every accent and beat the composer has created in the music — I think that’s the secret ingredient for me. I would love for the audience to hear the music in a way they didn’t think possible,” she says. “Another special ingredient is just being empathetic to the actors and their physical needs, as humans first, rather than just making them do what I say.”
When I ask her about being the baby sister in a dance family, she opens up about the joys and challenges of finding her own path. “As a child, [my brothers] were my true idols. They made dancing look so effortless and joyful,” she recalls. “For me, growing up, I kind of felt like I was just doing it [for the sake of it]… I wanted to love it, but [I didn’t] until high school, when I switched studios… there was just more joy in the way they taught [there]. I didn’t know that I could fall in love with dance in that way. I love dance so much more now than I used to when I was little.”
Describing the experience of choreographing Julius again (after their first-ever professional collaboration, on Neptune Theatre’s 2024 production of Frozen), she’s bursting with pride. “I see him give so many offers to help. He’s so good at helping and problem solving. Having him in the room is such a great reminder that art and joy exist in our work.”
And just like that, I see there’s no complicated “secret.” The family recipe’s key ingredient is joy. In Genny’s kitchen, everyone’s invited to pitch in — and everything that comes out of the oven tastes like it was made with love.
Waitress runs at the Grand Theatre until April 12, and at Theatre Aquarius from April 30 to May 17.
Treasa Lavasseur is a participant in What Writing Can Do: The 2025 Musical Theatre Critics Lab, a collaboration between Theatre Aquarius’ National Centre for New Musicals, the Grand Theatre, and Intermission.