Written By: Michael D. McClellan |
John Riddle has always dreamed big. Blessed with an active imagination and an equally insatiable curiosity, Riddle, who currently plays Raoul in the Broadway production of Phantom of the Opera, is living out his childhood dream by starring in his favorite play on theatre’s grandest stage. You don’t get there without talent, and Riddle was born to act. There’s also his tireless work ethic and natural charisma, both critical in the hypercompetitive world of Broadway theatre: In New York, handsome actors are a dime a dozen, and audition rooms are filled with John Riddles – easy on the eyes, one virtually indistinguishable from another, an assembly line of gifted performers all vying for the same role. Casting directors are numb to the sight. Their antennae is tuned elsewhere, filtering out the room’s beautiful, unyielding sameness in search of the talent that not only comes prepared, but delights in ways both authentic and unexpected. Riddle checks those boxes. That he makes it look so easy is part of his genius. His life has been a series of doors opening at just the right moment, of opportunities presenting themselves as if dropped in his lap by some unseen spirit. Better yet, he has been ready every step of the way.
Born in Vermilion, Ohio, Riddle likely caught the acting bug thanks to VHS copies of The Wizard of Oz and Mary Poppins. Obsessed, he sat in front of the TV and watched those movies countless times, but it only took a single viewing of each to unlock the passion bound up in his DNA. Riddle absorbed the performances like a sponge – Dick Van Dyke’s chimney-sweeper Bert opposite Julie Andrews’ Mary Poppins, and Judy Garland’s iconic Dorothy – transfixed by the expressions and mannerisms that conveyed so much emotion. How could you say so much without saying anything at all? Even if he didn’t know it then, John Riddle was destined for the stage.
Photo Courtesy Deen van Meer
“I loved everything about those films,” Riddle says. “I remember soaking in every detail, and singing along to all of the songs. I think I gravitated naturally to those musicals because they were so much fun. The fact that a story could be told through singing really triggered my imagination.”
Riddle took piano lessons as a child – ironically, he credits his piano teacher with instilling the discipline that’s helped make him so successful on Broadway – and later sang with the Oberlin (OH) Choristers, laying the foundation for what was to come next. While he often dreamed of singing in a big-time musical, seeing The Phantom of the Opera really lit the fuse. He walked out of that Toronto theatre transformed.
“Phantom was all I thought about for a long time after that,” he says. “We had the CD, and I’d make my parents play it every time we got in the car to go somewhere. I knew every song by heart.”
Little did he know then that he would one day take the Majestic Theatre stage, portraying Raoul in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s masterpiece. He was just a kid living in a small town 35 miles to the west of Cleveland. Sure, he allowed himself to dream. That’s what kids do. And then his voice changed and his interests veered off in other directions, namely soccer and basketball. Broadway? Pure fantasy. By high school he was on a more sensible path, looking ahead and planning to become an architect.
Photo Courtesy Matt Polk
The course correction came when he learned about a production of Beauty and the Beast, which was being held at the Beck Center in Cleveland. Riddle auditioned, got a part, and was hooked all over again. He put the whole architecture thing on hold, if just for a beat, long enough to apply to a handful of music theatre schools. The prestigious Conservatory of Music at the University of Cincinnati was tops on the list. He auditioned, and was accepted into the program. A career laboring over blueprints and researching building codes receded into the background.
“The Conservatory of Music is very selective,” Riddle says, “so getting in was a pretty big deal. CCM didn’t guarantee that I’d eventually work on Broadway, but it was too big an opportunity to pass up.”
Riddle immersed himself in this new world teeming with creatives. He ricocheted across the spectrum of CCM’s multidisciplinary artistic environment, taking classes in Dance, Musical Theatre, and Acting, the workload hardly feeling like work at all. Then summer rolled around and Riddle was able to land a coveted job at The Muny in St. Louis as part of its ensemble, something he would do again and again during his college career at CCM. Rubbing shoulders with some of Broadway’s brightest stars, he rehearsed and performed at the dizzying, breakneck pace that is the hallmark of The Muny’s summer program. In between, he used the downtime to network.
Photo Courtesy Joan Marcus
“The Muny brings in lots of Broadway talent, so I was surrounded by big-name artists,” Riddle says, “and then there were all of the directors and choreographers. It was the perfect opportunity to make a friend, develop a relationship, and learn about Broadway from the people who actually work there.”
Riddle graduated from CCM in 2012 with a boatload of contacts and one destination in mind. Everything had come so easily to this point. Why should the next step be any different? He would land in New York, audition the next day, and voila!, fulfill the dream: His name on the marquee, his family and friends in the audience, the glowing reviews announcing him as Broadway’s next hot star.
~ ~ ~
The best thing to ever happen to John Riddle is that it didn’t go down that way.
It rarely does.
Actors struggle to book gigs in the Big Apple.
Former Kinky Boots star and Emmy-winner Wayne Brady used to dress up as characters and perform at kids’ parties, occasionally being booed by his prepubescent audience; stage and screen star Sam Rockwell worked as a burrito delivery man, a busboy, and a barback; Hamilton creator and star Lin-Manuel Miranda was a substitute teacher while he worked on his creative projects. Young and overconfident, Riddle arrived in New York hellbent on barging his way to the front of the line, bypassing the grind that all actors endure. His life had been charmed to this point, so why would this be any different? He’d already landed an agent at CCM’s New York showcase, and, ironically, auditioned for the role of Raoul that first week in the city. He was disappointed that he didn’t get the part, but he still had his golden ticket, his Disney FastPass, his Austin Powers mojo. He was going to be a star.
And then, nothing.
One week became two. Soon a month passed. He worked as a sailing instructor at the Manhattan Yacht Club during the summer months, auditioning steadily but never landing a role, each rejection chipping away at the hubris he’d brought with him to the Big Apple.
“Broadway has a way of humbling you, no matter who you are,” Riddle says. “As hard as it was for me to see at the time, I really needed to struggle. It was good for me.”
Sailing season ended, and Riddle took a job as a waiter/caterer. The months – and the rejections – continued to pile up. And then, when all seemed lost, Riddle received a call from his agent. He’d been selected for a part in the seven-month national tour of Evita.
“That changed everything. After 10 months looking for work, I was just so thankful to be chosen. I was determined to make the most of it.”
Has he ever.
Riddle has worked steadily ever since, first in Evita and then performing in the Kennedy Center’s production of Little Dancer out of Washington, D.C. And then in 2015, Riddle landed his first Broadway show, The Visit, playing the role of Young Anton. The Visit proved to be rocket fuel, boosting his Broadway career at just the right time: Disney, looking to capitalize on its Frozen phenomenon, was holding auditions for its upcoming New York stage show. Riddle auditioned, and got the part of Hans. That he could make it his own made it even better.
“Since Frozen was a new show, my role was as the original character,” he says. “I didn’t have anyone to live up to, so I had the freedom to put my own creative spin on Hans. It was a pinch-me moment for sure. Taking the stage on opening night is something I’ll never forget.”
The biggest thrill of all came a year later, in 2019, when Riddle again auditioned for the role of Raoul. Seven years of grinding had given him a fresh perspective, as well as a newfound appreciation for what it means to be a Broadway actor. This time, he was ready. The little kid from Vermillion, who’d fallen in love with The Phantom of the Opera all those years ago, had been cast in the longest running show in Broadway history.
“I think that I rehearsed for two weeks, and I felt really prepared,” Riddle recalls. “Opening night for me was so surreal. I couldn’t help but think, ‘Wow, I’m singing this epic music, and I’m on the stage of the Majestic.’ I’d fantasized about that moment for most of my life, and it was finally happening. It was a really great night. I had a boatload of friends in the audience. It was a very fun night for me.”
~ ~ ~
The coronavirus pandemic has changed everything. Broadway went dark in March, more than 200,000 Americans have died from COVID-19, and masks and social distancing have become the norm. Who knows when things will get back to normal – or if the world we knew when the Times Square Ball dropped will ever return. One thing is certain: If and when live audiences are allowed back in those Broadway theatres, John Riddle will be right there, ready to entertain, ready to resume the thing he loves most.
“I miss it,” he says. “It’s helped me keep things in perspective, and to truly appreciate what a privilege it is to take the stage and perform. One of these days we’ll get back to doing that. For me, it can’t happen soon enough.”
The coronavirus pandemic hit New York especially hard. Take me back to the Broadway shutdown.
In the days leading up to March 13, which was when Governor [Andrew] Cuomo’s mass gathering restrictions took effect and the Broadway shutdown happened, we were hearing the rumblings about this virus that was going around. It was very surreal. They brought us together the Sunday before everything shut down and told us about the virus and all of the precautions that they were taking, such as cleaning the theatre. They also talked about a new way to try to contain the virus, which ended up being quarantine. Anyone traveling across the country couldn’t come back to work for a few weeks. There were a lot of questions – everyone wanted to know how real the threat was, and how seriously we needed to take it. It was like something you might see in a movie.
The old theatre adage, “The show must go on,” suddenly didn’t apply.
I am in the current cast of The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway right now, and we have what you would consider a straight schedule with a Thursday matinee. We did a show that day and, about halfway through the first act, Governor Cuomo announced that he was shutting down everything as a 5 o’clock that night. The news circulated quickly that this was going to be our last show for at least a month. It was a strange and surreal moment. The girl who was playing Christine, for example, was playing that role for the last time. In the middle of the show, she suddenly finds out this this was going to be her final performance. So there was a really weird feeling because, for her and a few other cast members, it was the end of a chapter. For the rest of us, we really weren’t sure what the future was going to hold. Ironically, it turned out to be one of those great theatre moments, because everything became very alive and present. We strive for that every time we are on stage, but something magical happened that day. All of sudden, there was this immediacy and urgency to what we were doing. It was a beautiful performance. Then we gathered on stage after the show and they said, “We don’t really know what this coronavirus is, but we will see you in a month.” And that was it. We took a few things out of our dressing rooms and went home.
And then New York City became a ghost town.
New York is the busiest city on earth, and the streets were deserted. It was very surreal. We were shut in our tiny apartment in New York City, and the days turned into weeks. The original plan was to be back at work on April 12, but that date kept getting pushed back, and then Broadway Week announced that we wouldn’t be opening until September 5. The realization that I wouldn’t be going back to work for months – and that I’d have the entire summer off – was a hard thing to wrap my brain around. It was an interesting dichotomy. As actors we deal with uncertainty all of the time. A show ends, your contract is up, you’re let go from a show, or they replace you, so we are used to unemployment. In fact, as Broadway actors, we spend most of our time unemployed. So not working isn’t a new sensation for me. The difference, for all of us in the acting community, was that we couldn’t go out and look for work. That was really hard to wrap your head around.
Photo courtesy of Matthew Murphy / Provided by The Publicity Office with permission.
Coronavirus has caused a tsunami of unemployment not seen since the Great Depression. How has it effected theatre?
Unemployment isn’t an easy time, but when you are unemployed you’re moving on to the next thing. You are auditioning and working on getting to the next step. COVID-19 made that nearly impossible. There were a lot of Zoom concerts, as well as online readings and performances, and for a while it looked like those were really the only outlets to make theatre. For me, that didn’t seem like a viable option. I did a few takes online, but you just can’t replace live theatre. It’s a completely different medium when you try to do live theatre behind the camera.
How has your perspective changed in the months since the shutdown?
This pandemic has been so devastating to the thousands of families who have lost loved ones, and it is heartbreaking to think of those who have succumbed to this virus without a family member by their side. It can be very hard to find any sort of silver lining. With that said, my hope is that we’re reminded to appreciate what we do have, and that we don’t take any moment for granted. That perspective can easily get lost in New York, because we live a life that is very fast-paced. If you can’t keep up then you get left behind. It’s taxing and it’s thrilling, but we often lose sight of our purpose on this planet. I think the downtime created by the pandemic has been a wonderful reset in that regard. It has taken some of that pressure off, and we’ve been able to jump off of that wheel that we are all running on and get back to basics. I’ve starting practicing the piano again, which is something that I haven’t done in a very long time.
Photo courtesy of Matthew Murphy / Provided by The Publicity Office with permission.
The pandemic isn’t the only thing that has changed the world. The death of George Floyd has focused the world on racial equality and social justice in ways that we’ve never seen before.
Our whole country is reexamining what racism is in this country. I thank God that voices are being heard, because it is so past due. There is a movement happening on Broadway and the industry as a whole is starting to investigate itself, which I don’t think we could’ve done that without this bigger movement. Broadway being completely shut down has given us the time, energy, and resources to make theatre inclusive of everybody. We should’ve done this a long time ago. It’s sort of a perfect storm in that regard. My hope is that theatre is a catalyst to help effect real change when it comes to race, inequality, and social justice in this country.
You grew up in Vermilion, Ohio. Were you in love with theatre from the jump?
My parents are not theatre people, so I didn’t know what theatre was as a kid. I was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz and Mary Poppins, so my poor parents had to watch those movies hundreds of times – I wanted to be Dick Van Dyke, and probably Julie Andrews [laughs].
When did the acting bug bite?
My dad was a woodworker, and I remember being in his shop one day as it was nearing Christmastime. He had a radio, and every day a commercial would play for a musical coming to Toronto, something called The Phantom of the Opera. For Christmas that year he said, “I don’t know what this musical is, but it sounds like something we have to go see.” So he bought us tickets and we took a trip up to Toronto to see The Phantom of the Opera. I was only four years old, but I sat there for the entire two-and-a-half hours of the show, on the edge of my seat, and didn’t say a word. And after the show the curtain call happened, and I turned my dad and told him that I wanted to be an actor when I grow up. I can remember riding home in the car afterwards and rattling off all of the details about the show – things that I had seen that my dad didn’t even notice. I still have a vivid memory of that experience, and being mesmerized in that moment. I had never seen anything like that. That is where probably I caught the acting bug.
Phantom has been a part of your world for a long time.
We would listen to the CD of The Phantom of the Opera anytime we got into the car after seeing that show, and if it was a long trip we would listen to it from start to finish. It sort of became like a family obsession…actually, it may have been a personal obsession that I imposed on my family [laughs]. I think they also liked it, too.
Growing up, you played the piano.
Vermillion is about 20 minutes from Oberlin, Ohio, which is where the Oberlin Conservatory is located. I had this incredible piano teacher there, her name is Marion Drummond. She was an old school music teacher, and so disciplined – I was scared of her for about seven years during my childhood [laughs]. But, she taught me how to be a musician. She demanded that I practice every single day. If I showed up to my lesson and I hadn’t practiced, then I was in huge trouble. So, from a really early age it was instilled in me that music is a discipline, and that work ethic is extremely important. She stressed that in order to achieve something, you have to work your hardest, regardless of your talent level. She also helped me understand that it’s okay to be mediocre, but you are not going to be great at something unless you practice and work really hard. I really have to thank her for the discipline that I took with me. In this business it really is about discipline. Everyone working on Broadway has talent. While luck also plays a part, the person who works the hardest is probably going to come out on top.
When did you start singing?
It was one of those weird, fate kind-of-things, because we lived close to Oberlin and were over there quite frequently. I joined the Oberlin Choristers, which is a kids choir, and I started singing three times a week.
What memory stands out most from being part of the Oberlin Choristers?
That was where I first learned that I could sing on my own. We were preparing for one of our Christmas concerts, and there was a soprano solo in a song called Dancing Day. Our director, Katherine Plank, was holding auditions for the solo and asked who wanted to try out. All of these girls raised their hands. I listened to them sing, and I felt that I could do that. I was twelve years old and my voice hadn’t changed yet, so I was still a boy soprano. I raised my hand and I sang it, and I ended up getting the solo. It was the first time I realized that I could sing on my own and not just as part of a group. That was sort of the jumping off point for me. From then on I wanted to be a solo singer.
Was performing on Broadway a dream for you back then?
I would listen to Broadway recordings – this was pre-Internet, so I couldn’t watch videos or anything like that – and I became obsessed with the whole idea of what Broadway was all about. I was determined to become an actor. Then, somewhere around middle school, all of my friends were busy playing sports. Puberty set in and my voice started to change, so I put music on the backburner and started playing basketball and soccer. I think a lot of it was the result of peer pressure, because singing wasn’t considered cool and sports were. I was trying to fit in. Looking back, I wish I could have just made it cool [laughs].
Hair by Austin Thornton, Styling by Kinsland Howell Alice in Kinsland Styling.
Clothing courtesy of Haupt shirts, Alberto pants, Carl Gross Vests, Our showroom, Hyela Makoujy.
Were your high school years more in tune with your creative side?
I had given up the acting thing and was busy playing soccer. My other passion was architecture, and I was going down this path of wanting to become an architect after graduation. Those were my two areas of focus. Then, one day, my high school music director told me that I could do plays and also be on the soccer team. I auditioned for the fall play, did that, and realized that acting was something that I still wanted to do. Then a friend told me about an upcoming play at the Beck Center in Cleveland. They were holding open auditions for a production of Beauty and the Beast, and I had just gotten my driver’s license, so I thought I’d drive up there and audition. I had nothing to lose. I ended up getting a part – it wasn’t a big part, I think I played the bookseller or something – and I did the show over Christmastime that year. It was such a great experience that I auditioned for the next show that they were doing, and I was chosen for one of the lead roles. It was a big deal because it was a semi-professional theatre company. That’s when the wheels really started to turn.
Did you ever give architecture serious thought?
My two best friends in high school were a year ahead of me. One of them was going to school to be an opera singer, and the other was going to art school. So, I was surrounded by these artist types. We were driving around in the car one day and were talking about what I was going to do the next year. They said, “Why don’t you audition for a musical theatre program and see what happens? If you don’t get in, then go be an architect.”
So my senior year rolled around, and I applied to the six best musical theatre schools. I decided that if I didn’t get in into any of the schools that I was going to go be an architect. My first audition was at the University of Cincinnati – Conservatory of Music. It was top school on my list and the one that I really wanted to go to. I auditioned and received an offer two days later. I decided right then and there that I was going to go to the University of Cincinnati.
Most people don’t realize how prestigious that program is.
It has a great reputation. Back in the 1990s and early 2000s, you could open up any Broadway Playbill and there would be a handful of graduates from CCM. We used to joke and that CCM was the Harvard of musical theatre, that’s how well-respected it is.
What was it like being part of the UC Conservatory of Music?
It was an incredible experience. I didn’t have much formal training prior to that, at least not in terms of proper theatre training. Then I showed up at this conservatory with 16 other classmates, and almost all of them had gone to performing arts schools their entire lives. I was like a sponge from the moment I arrived. It was the most magical time. It was a college environment, but it felt like being at theatre camp.
I’ve read where you worked at St. Louis Municipal Opera Theatre during the summers. The Muny is a big-time opportunity.
Yes, it’s a 12,000 seat outdoor theatre. Everybody from all of the big colleges go to these auditions, so I went and they hired me that first summer after my freshman year. I was cast in three shows that summer. It was an incredible experience. Some like to call The Muny by another nickname, “Broadway Summer Camp,” because they bring in all of these people from New York. The leads of the shows at The Muny are all big Broadway stars, and the directors and the choreographers are renowned people that work in New York. It was like a dream. I was 18 years old, and suddenly I’m working with all of these people that I had listened to on those recordings growing up. It was very surreal and exhilarating, all at the same time.
It must have felt like taking a Master Class in theatre.
It was very fast-paced. You put a show up in seven days and then you perform it, and while you’re performing that show you are rehearsing the next show that you are going to do. It’s like bootcamp in a way, but you are also working with the best of the best in the business, so you’re also learning so much at the same time. You start out in the ensemble, and then you work your way up to little feature roles. It was a wonderful experience, and it really did change my life. I got my Equity card, and I also made a ton of connections there. I was really lucky. I worked there for three summers, so when I graduated college I had an arsenal of contacts in New York that I had already worked with and who knew me. It was one of those wonderful life things where I was in the right place at the right time.
Networking is important in any line of work, but I imagine it is especially so when it comes to Broadway.
I met a number of actors and directors who I developed great working relationships with while at The Muny. Later, when I moved to New York, I would walk into an audition or a rehearsal and run into someone that I knew from my time in St. Louis. It’s a wonderful fraternity in a way. Having that connection takes some of the fear away, because this business can be completely unforgiving and heartbreaking and terrible in a lot of ways. When you walk into the room and you know people, it doesn’t guarantee you the job, but it removes some of that fear and apprehension.
Photo Courtesy Joan Marcus
Is there a favorite moment from The Muny that stands out?
One of my favorite actresses on Broadway is Beth Leavel. She’s a Tony Award-winning actress, and she came to St. Louis and played Miss Hannigan in Annie, which was the first show that I ever did there. Normally, you rehearse a Broadway show for six weeks. At The Muny, you come in and do it in seven. From start to finish you literally put a show up in seven days. You rehearse little bits of scenes, and then you put pieces together, and before you know it you’re onstage performing in front of a live audience.
Well, we’re rehearsing and get to the song that Miss Hannigan sings, a song called Little Girls. It comes time to do Beth’s number, and it’s the first time she’d ever done it, and it’s two days before the show, and yet her performance is completely nuanced. She knows every single word, and she gives a full performance of the song as if she’d be doing it her entire life. In was such a lesson in preparation. I’ll never forget that, because she was so prepared on that day to do that number, which allowed her to be free and just be the character. I think about that all the time when I go into a rehearsal process: Learn your lines before rehearsal even starts, so that you can get over that part of it and actually start breathing life into the character from the very first day. It was such a teaching moment for me. Since then I’ve watched actors come in to rehearse, and when we get to their number in the show they’re still holding their script and trying to figure out the words to the song, while the rest of us sit around and watch them fumble through it. That says something about you, and not in a flattering way. You want to be the best. Beth Leavel came in that day and was so prepared and professional. That sticks with me to this day.
You graduate from CCM, and immediately head to New York. How confident were you that you’d make it on Broadway?
I was on a good run leading up to going to New York, and that helped with my decision to make the jump. I got into the college that I wanted to go to, and once there I got cast in a lot of good parts in our school shows. Right after my freshman year I got hired at The Muny, and ended up going back and working there the next three years. It gave me a confidence that made it seem possible, that I could do this thing called acting and be successful at it. The next step was going to go to New York and chasing the dream.
Did you have to find an agent?
Most conservatory or college theatre programs do something called a showcase in New York, which is where you put this little show together that literally showcases your talents. A lot of agents and casting directors come to the showcase because it’s like a shopping day for them and they can check out the new talent. I was very lucky. We had our showcase day and I had a great response from my performance. I found an agent, signed with the agency, and got an audition right away – literally the first week that moved to New York. Ironically, I auditioned for the role of Raoul in The Phantom of the Opera. I didn’t get it, but it was still a thrill.
What were those early days in New York like for you?
I moved to New York in April, 2012, found a terrible apartment and started looking for a side job to pay the bills. The way things were going, I didn’t think it would take long to land a part in a play. It turns out that it wasn’t quite that easy.
Most aspiring actors end up waiting tables. You took a job teaching sailing.
I come from a sailing family, and my mom used to do this regatta every year in New York Harbor. It was held at this sailing club downtown in Tribeca. She became good friends with a guy named Michael Fortenbaugh, who founded the Manhattan Yacht Club. They had a sailing school, and since I used to teach sailing when I was in high school, I thought that I could go get a job down there. I called Michael up, and I sat down with him one afternoon and he hired me on the spot. I taught sailing that spring and summer. I would audition during the day and then go teach sailing lessons in the evening.
Did you struggle to find work on Broadway?
It didn’t happen overnight, that’s for sure. I vividly remember walking down the dock to teach a selling lesson one afternoon and getting a call from my agent. I had been auditioning all day, and one of those auditions included the Broadway production of Jersey Boys. I just thought for sure that I was going to get this job. My agent calls me right as a I am about to start this sailing class, and tells me that I didn’t get the role. It was disappointing, and also a cold dose of reality. That soon became the pattern – I was pursuing this thing that I loved, but the months started to pass and I wasn’t getting work. I was auditioning, which was a good thing but I kept getting ‘no’ after ‘no’ after ‘no.’ So after the sailing season ended, I got a job as a caterer/waiter.
Broadway is competitive.
Extremely. I continued to audition, but I was still getting one rejection after another. In fact, I didn’t get my first job until eleven months after I moved to New York City. Looking back, it was actually the best thing that ever happened to me. I think that if I had gotten a big show or had gotten a big job right out of college, I wouldn’t have had that time to struggle and really fight for it. Maybe I wouldn’t have learned what it meant to really put in the work. I’d also watched a lot of people graduate from college and go right into a Broadway show. A lot of those people either burned out or became arrogant and conceited, and I didn’t want either of those things.
Hip-hop artist Kendrick Lamar raps that there is beauty in the struggle.
I thought it was terrible when I was going through it at the time, but looking back I can see this wonderful, classic New York struggle of wanting to become an actor. I needed that. I think I had started to rest on my laurels to some degree, because I did have some success when I was in college, and because everything up until my move to New York had come so easily. Overcoming rejection gave me the armor that I needed when the doubt crept in. It propelled me forward and became a source of strength, and the motivation that I needed to actually fight for it. Then, after eleven months of struggle, I got hired in the national tour of Evita. It was this unbelievably exciting moment, followed by the thrill of going on tour for seven months. That was my first big professional job in New York. Those eleven months of struggle helped me to appreciate that first job even more.
In 2015 you landed a role in The Visit, which was your first Broadway play.
I came back from the Evita tour and then quickly got a role in the premier of a new show that was being held at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. The music director was a guy named David Loud, and I developed a good working relationship with him during that show. When it ended and I got back to New York, my agent called me to audition for a show call The Visit, starring Chita Rivera and Roger Rees. As it turned out, David Loud was directing this show, and he was the one who brought me in to audition for it. I’ll never forget it: I auditioned on Valentine’s Day, 2015, and I went in the next day for my call back, and later that night I had found out that I had gotten the job. The next week I started rehearsing for my very first Broadway show.
What was it like being a part of The Visit?
The Visit was an incredible experience. John Kander and Fred Ebb are titans of music theatre, and they were the ones who did the music and lyrics. I was up on the stage singing with Chita Rivera and Roger Rees, which was such a thrill. To this day I would say it was the most magical time of my life. There are a lot of people who dream up stuff about what they want in their life, but for whatever reason it doesn’t work out. It’s very rare when it goes according to plan. LeBron James dreamed of being an NBA star, and he fulfilled that dream, but for every LeBron there are thousands of others who never make it. It sort of felt like that during that show, because I had dreamt of this my whole life. Suddenly, I was actually doing it. In that moment I was very aware of how magical this was, and what being on that stage meant to me. The fact that it was my first Broadway show made it even more magical. I think I’ll spend the rest of my career trying to match that experience, or at least having something that comes close.
Hair by Austin Thornton, Styling by Kinsland Howell Alice in Kinsland Styling.
Clothing courtesy of Haupt shirts, Alberto pants, Carl Gross Vests, Our showroom, Hyela Makoujy.
Frozen is one of the most-successful Disney films of all-time, and the play is equally popular. How did you land the role of the Prince Hans?
It was about a year-and-a-half later, and my agent called me and asked if I would go audition for the ensemble in Frozen. She explained that they wanted me to audition for the role of King Agnarr, who was the ruler of Arendelle and who had fathered two daughters, Elsa and Anna. It hadn’t seen the movie yet, so I asked if there was a prince. She said that there was, but that they wouldn’t see me for that. They wanted to see me for the king. This was a minor role, which I really didn’t want at that point in my career, but, after thinking it over, I decided to go to the audition anyway. Then a funny thing happened. They called me back afterwards and I ended up in front of the director, who asked me if I would audition for the prince! I wanted to say that the prince was the role I had asked about in the first place, but I thought better of it and kept that to myself [laughs]. Instead, I went home that night and feverishly watched the movie Frozen just to learn what the show was even about.
When did you go back to read for the role of Hans?
The next day. I was in front of the entire Disney theatrical group, including Bobby and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, who wrote the music for Frozen, and the director, Michael Grandage. I gave a very mediocre audition, probably as good as you can expect to do in a night of learning the material. They saw something they liked, because I ended up getting the job. They next thing you know I’m in the workshop of the show.
Workshop?
A workshop production is staged much more modestly than the full production, and they are usually put together for a couple of reasons: To provide a preview of the full production, and to also gauge audience and critical reaction. Afterwards there might be decisions made to adjust or rewrite some parts of the work before the official premiere. We had two subsequent workshops after that, as well as our out-of-town tryouts, and then we finally started rehearsing on Broadway. That was January 2018, so it was a very long road to opening night.
The Visit was special because it was your first Broadway play. What made Frozen special for you?
It was magical in a very different way. Frozen was this global phenomenon and a mega-part of the cultural zeitgeist, so we were very aware of its potential to be big. To be a part of that, and be able to originate that…to be able to originate a part in a musical is the goal of any actor on Broadway. Frozen was my second Broadway play, so I was like, “How lucky can you get?”
Glikas/GettyEntertainment
Frozen was nominated for three Tony Awards. How does it feel to be a part of that?
It was so cool to build something from the ground up. I learned so much about show business, and about myself and about how to create a character. And then there’s all of the wonderful things that come with that, which are Broadway openings, press stuff, the buzz…and there’s really nothing better than being a part of a new production. It creates this incredible buzz in New York, so it was a very exciting time. I also had such a wonderful group of people to work with. I made some of my best friends working on that show. I worked on that show for about two-and-a-half years, so it was a big chunk of my life.
As if it couldn’t get any better, you landed the role of a lifetime in The Phantom of the Opera.
I’d auditioned for Phantom about ten times over the years and never got the job. My agent called me after this particular audition and said that it wasn’t going to go my way this time, either. I took the news in stride. A full month later my agent called me back and said, “Okay, there’s been a little twist. They actually do want you to come and do it.” There was no question in my mind. I couldn’t say ‘yes’ fast enough. Phantom had been a dream of mine my entire life. I couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. It was a wonderful, nostalgic moment.
How was Phantom different than anything else you’d done up to that point?
When you are replacing someone in a show, as was the case in Phantom, you rehearse for two weeks and then you open the following week. That was a very different experience from the first two Broadway shows that I did, when I had the luxury of rehearsing for a longer period of time. You are the guy in something new. You are creating the character, and there aren’t any expectations because no one has seen the show before. With Phantom, I was coming in to replace one of my buddies, Jay Johnson, who was playing the part before me. It’s sort of like, “Tag, you’re out,” and you take over where he left off. There’s no pomp and circumstance.
How much rehearsal time to you get when you join a show in progress?
It was an interesting experience. When you are replacing someone, you don’t rehearse with the cast until the night you do it. I rehearsed with the dance captain and a stage manager for two weeks, and then I had one little rehearsal with everybody. My first show was on a Monday night, and I sang one song with the orchestra a half hour before the show. I’d never done the show with any lighting, and I had worn the costumes only once. So, there was this sort of this wild moment like, “Wow, I’ve never really done this before, but I’m doing it tonight, on Broadway, in front of 1,700 people.”
Did you feel like you were prepared for Phantom?
There was a moment of doubt, but that was fleeting because I knew Phantom inside and out. I knew every word, and I had rehearsed on my own to fill out character, so I was fully prepared. It was a thrilling experience.
What was opening night like for you?
Before I went on that night, somebody reminded me to have a moment for myself, where I could just breathe and take in the fact that I’m going to act on Broadway. In the second act, there is a moment where Raul climbs this ladder and he’s about to jump off of the bridge. As I was climbing up that ladder I said to myself, “You’re in The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway.” It was an incredibly wonderful, magical moment…and then I went on the bridge and did the rest of the show. It was then that I truly realized I’d come full circle.
It’s not every day that your wildest dreams are realized.
I remember as a kid, my mom used to go to exercise class at a YMCA. She would bring me with her, and it was in some school where the auditorium and gymnasium were combined. The class would take place down on the gym floor and, for whatever reason, they would let me play on the stage. I would be back there by myself, opening up the curtains and playing with the lights while the exercise class was going on. I still can’t believe they let me do that, because I was so young [laughs]. I would stand on the stage and pretend that I was performing on a Broadway stage. That night at Phantom, I felt like that little kid again. It’s not lost on me how fortunate I have been. It’s a combination of a bit of hard work and determination, and getting over the heartbreaks of a unforgiving business. When you have those moments, that’s what makes it all worth it.
What’s your favorite thing to do when you arrive at the theatre before a show?
My favorite thing to do is going out and sitting in the empty house, or just standing on the stage and looking out before anybody is there. It feels like you have this power, knowing that you’re about to walk out on that stage as a different person, and all of these people are going to sit in the dark and listen to you and what you have to say. It feels a bit divine, and also like a bit of magic.
What’s it like to look out at the audience?
You can’t really see much when the lights come on – you can only see the first two or three rows – but it’s this wonderful thing of knowing that there are all of these people out there having an experience with you. Every single day is different, and that’s the thing that I love the most about theatre. Sometimes you will have these incredible audiences that are so in the moment with you, and sometimes you’ll have an audience where you wonder if they even want to be there. The curtain call is wonderful, because you can actually see some of their faces.
What’s the most interesting aspect of being a Broadway actor?
My friend used to describe what a strange feeling it is to be a Broadway actor, and I experience it almost every night when I go home. The show ends, and all of these strangers stand up and start clapping for you. Then you take your little bow and you walk off stage, and you go home and sit in your apartment all by yourself. It’s very pedestrian. It’s sort of a weird way to live your life, but I don’t think I could do anything else.
Final Question: If you could offer one piece of advice to other aspiring actors, what would that be?
Be true to yourself. There are so many people who want to act on Broadway. When I walk into an audition room, there are twelve other guys sitting in a row, all of them waiting to go into the audition. They are six-foot-two like me, they have brown hair like me, they sing like me, and they are great actors. When a director has twelve options that look the same, what is the one thing is going to make you stand out from everybody else? That can only come from within, from your soul and your being. The life that you live away from the theatre breathes life into who you are onstage. It’s those life experiences that attracts an audience to want to sit in the dark for two-and-a-half hours and hear what you have to say.
