Noah wears a BURBERRY suit and shirt. Photographed by Ashley Chappell
Ahead of Wednesday’s season 2 part two premiere, Filipino-American actor Noah B. Taylor talks about music and acting with Vogue Philippines.
By the time Noah B. Taylor stepped onto the set of Wednesday for its second season, he had already lived in three countries, played in a rock band, studied animal movement in drama school, and learned to let music guide him through the uncertainties of performance. Born in the United States to a Filipino mother and an American father, Taylor grew up in New York but made regular trips back to the Philippines, where the music of APO Hiking Society and the sight of his titos playing rock music filled his earliest memories. His life, split across cultures, would become both compass and palette for his artistry.
“Growing up in New York gave me diversity, but moving to a predominantly white school at fifteen was the first time I was the ‘Asian kid,’” he recalls. The shift was jarring, but it rooted him more firmly in his heritage. Later, acting projects took him to China and the Philippines, and eventually to Glasgow for drama school, each place adding more insight to how he saw himself and the stories he wanted to tell.
Before acting, there was music. Taylor studied classical violin from the age of four until he was fifteen, a discipline that instilled patience and perseverance. “It taught me consistency,” he says. Those values are still with me.” Music remains a vital counterpart to his acting career. His band One Minute Friend is working on their debut album, a project where Taylor feels he can be more unfiltered. “Acting is empathy. Music is self-reflection,” he clarifies. Yet, the two seem to converge: the characters he inhabits seep into his songwriting, while the songs he listens to become playlists for stepping into new worlds on set.
His process as an actor is intensely physical. At the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, studying animal movement shifted how he thought about characters. “Knowing how my character moves, sits, eats, and relaxes lays a foundation for the rest,” he explains. Playing a werewolf on screen required him to carry both the weight of a creature and the vulnerability of a teenager. This challenge reminded him how much of storytelling begins in the body.
Taylor draws inspiration from Hong Kong cinema, particularly from actors Tony Leung and Leslie Cheung in Wong Kar Wai’s Happy Together, which made him want to pursue acting. “Their ability to simply ‘be’ in front of the camera, the honesty and vulnerability, was moving,” he says. That sincerity guided him ever since, shaping how he approaches roles and how he imagines the kind of work he hopes to leave behind.
Working under Tim Burton’s direction on Wednesday brought new lessons. “He’s very specific with his artistic vision, but he also gave me room to explore,” Taylor shares. “That freedom helped me listen to my impulses more.” His dynamic with Emma Myers, who plays Enid Sinclair, was developed both on page and in practice: “We developed a mutual understanding of our characters’ relationship, and subconsciously started approaching scenes from similar angles.”
Portraying Bruno, a Filipino character in a global series, carried its own weight. “Growing up, I didn’t see a lot of Filipino representation in Western media,” he reflects. “So it’s meant the world to be able to contribute.” He acknowledges the responsibility that comes with visibility, but refuses to let it confine him. “I decided to focus on playing the character to the best of my ability and trust that my experiences and heritage would come through authentically.”
What Taylor wants, whether in film, television, or music, is to hold a mirror to the turbulence of being young in the present moment. “Teenagers and young adults today grow up fast. They’re navigating love, identity, heritage, financial pressures, and health in a world that can feel like it’s caving in,” he says. “One of the most powerful things art can do is show people they’re not alone. Even in pain, it can help us find ephemeral beauty, camaraderie, and peace.”
Asked what he hopes people will say about his body of work ten years from now, Taylor recalls a mantra that he has carried since he was fifteen: I want to make something good. “I’ve reframed it since then,” he admits. “Good is subjective. What I really want is to be honest and vulnerable in my work. If people find that good, then that’s a wonderful bonus.”
For Taylor, honesty is the thread that connects everything: the discipline of his violin, the rawness of a lyric, the instinctive impulses that carry him through a scene. It is what grounds him as he stands at the intersection of cultures and creative forms, seeking not just to perform, but to reveal.
And perhaps, that is the point of his journey. Not to arrive at a fixed definition of success, but to keep creating work that, in its honesty, offers audiences a sense of recognition. To make space for vulnerability. To remind others, as much as himself, that even in the most uncertain moments, art has the power to hold us together.
By DAPHNE SAGUN. Photographed by ASHLEY CHAPPELL. Styled by Brandon M. Garr. Set Design by Ross McCallum. Grooming by Laura Costa. Photo assistant: Briton David. Stylist assistants: Lilly Nasso and Juan Tobón. Set design assistant: Dustin Griffes.
