The following essay is by Patrick Page, as told to Natalia Keogan; it has been edited for clarity and length. Page is currently starring in the Off-Broadway solo show “All the Devils Are Here: How Shakespeare Invented the Villain,” which he also created. The production is directed by Simon Godwin.
My desire to become an actor manifested when I watched my dad perform at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in the ’60s, first in “The Merchant of Venice” and then in “Twelfth Night.” He had the opening line in both plays.
It was magical to be in a space with music, laughter, costumes, and color where the grownups were all playing like children. I started going to every one of my father’s rehearsals; and whenever a production required a child actor, I eagerly volunteered.
My early career was spent primarily in Utah and Oregon, but part of me always wanted to play with the big kids in New York City. The opportunity eventually presented itself when I auditioned for the Seattle premiere of Robert Schenkkan’s “The Kentucky Cycle.” I got the role, and I moved to New York in 1993 when the production went to Broadway.
I reached a crossroads in my career when I was working as a reader for the first national tour of “Beauty and the Beast.” Jay Binder, the casting director, suggested that I might play Lumière. I fought against it terribly, because I thought of myself as a classical actor, not a musical theater actor. My wonderful agent at the time was the one who convinced me to take the role—partly because of the money, and partly because it would open up many more opportunities for me. She was right, of course.
In general, I’m attracted to working with specific people rather landing specific roles. For example, in 1994, I got wind that Steven Berkoff, whom I lionized, was directing a production of “Richard II.” I was determined to audition, but my agent told me it wouldn’t be possible. So I took it upon myself to write a rather angry letter to Berkoff, asking for five minutes of his time. Several months went by; then, I got a phone call from the Public Theater on Lafayette Street, which was mounting the production. They told me, “Steven Berkoff wants to see you within the hour.” I raced over and auditioned, and he put me in the show. And on the first day of rehearsals, he told me, “Good letter.”
Another director I’d always wanted to collaborate with was Rachel Chavkin. When I saw her production of “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812” in a tent Off-Broadway, I remember saying to myself, I want to work with her. Eventually, I went on to originate the role of Hades in “Hadestown,” which she directed.
Like a lot of people who lose their hearing gradually, I didn’t really know it was happening. I started losing my hearing early on in my career, but it happened imperceptibly, until I couldn’t hear people onstage or directors during note sessions.
In 2015, I did the Deaf West Theatre production of “Spring Awakening” with a largely deaf cast. At the time, I was still in denial about my own hearing loss, though I did finally begin to investigate hearing aids. When I got my hearing aids, I received a new lease on life. It’s an interesting journey, because my dad was actually very involved with the Deaf community and was fluent in American Sign Language. My adoptive grandmother was also profoundly deaf. As far as accessibility in the theater goes, I advocate for subtitling, as they do in some opera [houses] on the backs of seats.
With my latest project, the one-man show “All the Devils Are Here: How Shakespeare Invented the Villain,” the central conceit was to chronologically go through Shakespeare’s exploration of evil and decide whether he came to any conclusions on the subject.
Shakespeare looked very deeply into himself when it came to human wrongdoing. He wasn’t a moralist; he was willing to live in “the mystery of things,” as he wrote in “King Lear.” I hope I can share my love of Shakespeare with audiences—and that, in turn, they’ll come away with a greater love and appreciation of his work.
This story originally appeared in the Nov. 16 issue of Backstage Magazine.