For veteran actress Jackie Lou Blanco, the stage has always been more than a platform for performance. It is a refuge, a calling, and—at its most profound—a sacred space where life’s deepest joys and sorrows can coexist. This truth came into sharp focus as she recently marked a major milestone in her theater journey, one she received with humility, gratitude, and unwavering faith.
In a heartfelt message shared on Facebook, Blanco offered praise first not to herself, but to God, dedicating the honor to her Lord and Savior before acknowledging the Aliw Awards Foundation and the people who believed in her work. The gesture reflected not only her spirituality, but also her understanding of theater as a communal art—one built on trust, collaboration, and a shared love for storytelling.
Blanco traced the beginning of this chapter to a single moment: receiving the script for The Foxtrot. From the start, it spoke to her instincts as an actress. She described it as an “actor’s piece”—rare material that immediately signals depth, challenge, and emotional truth. The role of Anna drew her in completely, embraced with the enthusiasm of someone still deeply in love with the craft, even after decades in the industry.
She expressed gratitude to Theatre Titas PH for entrusting her with the role, and to playwright Chesie Galvez Cariño for crafting the story of Diego and Anna with such care and beauty. In Blanco’s telling, The Foxtrot was not just a play—it was a delicately written human experience that demanded honesty and vulnerability from everyone involved.
True to her reputation as a generous collaborator, Blanco made it clear that her performance was shaped by many hands and hearts. She thanked those who stood beside her behind the scenes—her support system, collaborators, and creative partners who carried the production with her.
From co-choreographer Lowell Tan, whose patience guided her through the physical language of the piece, to director Paul Alexander Morales, who helped translate the emotional core of Anna and Diego’s story to the stage, Blanco emphasized the deeply collaborative nature of the process. Under Morales’ direction, the characters were not merely performed—they were lived.
She also paid tribute to her two leading men, JC Santos and Royce Cabrera, who each brought distinct interpretations of Diego. Blanco spoke of their generosity, clarity, and sincerity—qualities that elevated the work and deepened the emotional exchanges onstage. What could have been daunting instead became a gift: two honest portrayals, one shared commitment to truth.
The most powerful moment of her reflection came not from rehearsals or accolades, but from life colliding painfully with art.
During the final week of the show, Jackie Lou Blanco lost her mother.
Grief arrived suddenly, devastatingly—and still, she had to perform. Standing at the edge of the stage that day, she faced a question no actor ever wants to ask: Kaya ko ba? Can I do this?
In that moment, she remembered her mother’s words from long ago. Asked how she performed when she herself was hurting, her mother answered simply: the stage was her safe place, her happy place. It was wisdom rooted in a life devoted to performance, passed from one generation to the next.
In a poignant overlap between life and art, Blanco realized that the line spoken by her character—“This is my happy place”—was no longer just part of the script. It had become her truth.
She stepped onstage knowing her mother would not have wanted it any other way.
Continuing the performance became an act of love—an offering not only to the audience, but to her late mother and to Ricky, honoring them by doing what they loved, and what she herself was born to do. In choosing to perform through grief, Blanco transformed loss into remembrance, and sorrow into something quietly transcendent.
She closed her message by dedicating the moment to the people who ground her most: her children and the loves of her life. It was a reminder that while awards and applause matter, they are upheld by the unseen strength of family and faith.
Jackie Lou Blanco’s journey in The Foxtrot is not simply a story of recognition—it is a portrait of an artist who continues to grow, to feel deeply, and to find meaning in every role she inhabits. In honoring the stage as her “happy place,” even in the midst of heartbreak, she reaffirmed why she remains one of the most respected figures in Philippine theater.
Because for artists like her, the stage does not erase pain—it gives it a voice. And in that voice, others find comfort, courage, and the quiet assurance that even in grief, beauty can still rise.