Brent Barrett, who hails from Quinter, Kan., recalls that he started singing at the age of 5 or 6. “I started playing the guitar in the third grade,” he says, “but I didn’t know what a Broadway show was. Back then I was singing John Denver, and I also sang in church.”
One life-altering experience during his youth was hearing opera bass Samuel Ramey.
“Sam was then married to my cousin,” Barrett explains. “He grew up in Colby [Kansas] but he was visiting Quinter, and I heard him sing in church. Everyone else sang in a whisper and then this man stands up and sings with an amazing booming voice. It was impressive. Sometimes things influence you and you don’t even realize it until later.”
In high school, Barrett snagged leading roles in two musicals—110 in the Shade and Calamity Jane—and that’s when he discovered his voice and his vocation. He began serious vocal training at Fort Hays State University, where he studied with “two teachers who deserve a plug,” Patrick Geoser and Alison Atkins. “They said my voice would mature at its own pace,” Barrett says, “and they warned me to let it happen naturally.” After his sophomore year he transferred to Carnegie Mellon, which was then launching its prestigious musical theatre program. “Singing became my real comfort zone then,” he adds.
Fresh out of Carnegie in 1980, Barrett was cast as Diesel, mainly a dancing role, in the national tour of West Side Story. Through a combination of talent and luck he wound up playing Tony, the male lead, for three months during the show’s Broadway run. This proverbial “big break” is the starting point of our freewheeling conversation.
Tony in West Side Story and the Phantom and are usually played by tenors, but you frequently play baritone roles. What’s your vocal type, and what factors made you choose a career in theater rather than opera?
When I was a voice major at Carnegie Mellon I sang a little Mozart, a little Donizetti, and some Schubert Lieder. My tone was fairly light then, and I felt that if I went into opera, I would always be playing young men, like Tamino. In musical theatre, I thought I’d get to do interesting adult male roles. I also had this idea starting out that opera was going to be limiting—I’d do the same role over and over—and in theater there would be more variety. Now I’ve found that when you do a theater role for two years straight, there’s not much variety there either. [Laughs.]
My New York voice teacher, Bill Schuman, definitely considers me a tenor, but for the past 10 years I’ve been doing baritone parts in Kiss Me Kate, Chicago, and Annie Get Your Gun. I make my voice intentionally darker for those roles—and as my voice matures it’s naturally getting darker, and hopefully, richer. I was asked to do The Merry Widow with the Welsh National Opera a while back. I was over there doing a New Year’s concert in Cardiff, and they had seen the Kiss Me Kate DVD, and called me. I can see myself doing something classical in the future.
Did you have any Broadway role models as a young performer?
I didn’t have any theatrical role models when I was growing up. My aunt owned a movie theater so I saw a lot of films. In 1980, when I was making my Broadway debut, I was listening to John Raitt and other singers on original cast albums. That’s when I educated myself about who my predecessors were. I definitely preferred John Raitt to Alfred Drake, another top baritone. Drake was from a different era and sang in the old style. I thought Jerry Orbach was your quintessential leading man. He had a great voice and was a wonderful actor.
In a recent CS profile, baritone Rod Gilfry said the difference between singing for Broadway and opera is that you keep the cover out of it. He said you want the sound “slim and in front.” Do you agree?
I do agree with that: slim and in front, because you’re going in and out of dialogue. You don’t want a different voice from the one you use when you’re speaking. What opera singers do in order to project is use a technique that makes the voice sound a bit manipulated. In musicals you want to sound like the same person!
How often do you study now?
When I knew “Phantom” was going to happen, I tried to get in to see Bill Schuman. The voice is a muscle and it gets lazy, so I needed to start working the upper register, which hasn’t really been in demand lately. [Laughs.] I went in every couple of weeks before moving to Las Vegas. Normally, if I’m doing a long run in a show, I may see Bill three or four times a year.
You’ve called Phantom “a real work-out.” Why?
What makes the Phantom demanding is the range, and also the intensity of the role. It comes from a realistic core, but everything is so heightened. He’s the ultimate outsider. Hopefully, your sympathy is with him because he’s a victim.
The role is different from anything I’ve done over the last 10 years, and it requires all of me to do this show. I feel that this is what I’ve been training for my entire life. To have the stamina to do it requires a solid vocal technique. The role requires a lot of vocal pyrotechnics. I only have to do it five times a week [Barrett shares the role with Anthony Crivello], but I have to do everything in 95 minutes instead of two and a half hours, so you don’t get much downtime.
Also, because you have a mask, a bald cap, and prosthesis, you don’t have facial expressions to rely on. The role has to be done with the voice and with gestures, meaning with your body. Coming to it now instead of earlier, I do see that it’s a real workout, but ultimately it gives me a real sense of vocal satisfaction.
What is the most difficult role you’ve done, vocally speaking?
That has to be the Phantom. The other most difficult role was in Portrait of Jenny—lots of singing, but I was much younger. With Phantom, I have to keep on top of it. My most rewarding roles overall have been the Phantom and Fred Graham in Kiss Me Kate. “Kate” was also a real workout, but it was funny and it had pathos; it had a little bit of everything.
When you’re in the moment on stage, how much are you thinking about technique?
It depends on the role. With the Phantom I’m thinking about it a lot. I have to scream and I don’t want to hurt myself for the long run, so I need to be careful. It doesn’t take a lot of screaming to place a lot of wear and tear on my voice. So much of it is about support. Even when I’m screaming I’m doing it with the breath, as opposed to relying on my vocal cords.
Does using a body mic change your vocal production?
The sound people always say, “Sing the way you sing, and we’ll manipulate the sound.” You can almost whisper and they can run it through the system and get it out there. There are effects we wouldn’t be able to achieve without amplification.
What tips would you give to singers who’ve never worked with mics?
It’s like any kind of technology. You have to use the mics a lot and practice.
My best advice is, have a good soundman! [Laughs.]
How much do you warm up for musicals?
When I’m doing a regular run I usually warm up on my way to the theater. I’ll start it there and then finish it at the theater. At this point, I’ve been doing it for so long, if I’m not sick and if my allergies aren’t bothering me, I just need to warm up a little bit and then go out and do the show.
Do singers have to be able to dance to succeed in musicals?
I think everyone needs to move well. You don’t have to dance, but with economics the way they are, certainly the more you can do, the better chance you will have. People are writing shows for smaller and smaller casts these days.
What do you think of the vocal quality on Broadway now?
We went through a period when we were pulling kids right off the street, for instance in Rent. I think technique goes with what is being written. If there were more demanding roles, people would study and be more conscientious.
The shows I trained for are not being written any more. Then again, we have some great up-and-coming composers who have been around for several years—like Michael John LaChiusa, Adam Guettel, and Ricky Ian Gordon, to name a few—who are writing for actor-singers. I love Guettel’s The Light in the Piazza. Look at Victoria Clark in that production . . . she was just thrilling. The show feels like a throwback to another time, so maybe we’re starting a new phase of shows with more compelling musical and story lines.
Do you have advice for opera singers who’d like to “cross over” to musicals?
I’d probably say, and with absolutely no disrespect, that they should take a couple of acting classes, so they feel as comfortable with spoken dialogue as they do with singing.
You performed South Pacific with Minnesota Opera (Cable), and Kismet with Opera Pacific (the Caliph) and Michigan Opera (the Caliph), and an evening of songs with the New York Festival of Song. How does concert work fit into your career?
You know, I like doing it. I also produce an evening called “The Broadway Tenors.” My partner, Betsy Friday, with whom I started it, passed away few years ago, so “Tenors” got put on hold. But I’m hoping that now that I’m out in Vegas we can resurrect it a bit.
Last summer we did a couple of concerts, one with the Albany [New York] Symphony and one with the Hartford Symphony. “The Broadway Tenors” is for three guys, and we put together special arrangements of the music. We have a pool of 11 guys, and depending on who’s available we mix and match. We started out doing it with piano, bass, and drums, but now we can perform with a full orchestra.
Do you have any new projects coming up?
I’ve started to work on a new recording. It’s going to be done with piano, bass, and drums. It’s going to cross all genres—Broadway, standards, pop—and there might even be some semi-classical stuff, such as Weill. In the fall I may be returning to Broadway in a new musical, Princesses. I’ve already done a regional production of that show.
How do you deal with rejection?
There’s so much rejection singers and actors deal with on a daily basis. If you need to perform, don’t get discouraged. Just keep plugging away. I’ve been hired as much as I’ve been rejected. So when I’m rejected I tell myself, “It didn’t work out, so move on.”
Do you have a philosophy that guides your career?
There are trade-offs, ultimately, in all situations. Sometimes you don’t know what will make you happy until you find it.
For further information about Brent Barrett, visit
www.brentbarrett.com.
Editor’s Note: Part Two of this article, featuring an interview with Lisa Vroman, begins on page 44 of this issue. To hear Barrett and Vroman sing the charming duet “Fireworks” from Do Re Mi, listen to Broadway Musicals of 1960, recorded live in 2004. (The CD is available from www.amazon.com.)
