William Brown, while an actor of dexterous magnitude, chooses subtle texturing over showy grandeur. Qualities like sensitivity, trust in his fellow artists and impeccable attention to detail wind through his multifaceted interpretations of characters from the canons of Shakespeare, Shaw, Coward and other humanity-enveloping playwrights.

No doubt embarrassed by these flattering descriptions, Brown–who is also a highly respected director–might brush them off and choose to talk about the work instead. Humility and humor also combine to temper a larger-than-life theatre artist capable of an unselfconscious generosity of spirit. Yet he doesn’t shy away from strong opinions.

A gentle yet operatic presence on stage, Brown is equally self-effacing and gregarious during an extended chat at TimeLine Theatre in the Wellington Avenue Church, where he is directing the newly discovered Tennessee Williams’ play Not About Nightingales, through Nov. 26. It comes as little surprise when Brown reveals that he pursued a career in opera before heeding the call of the theatre; moving to New York City from his native West Virginia to study voice.

"In opera, more than anything," Brown says, "size matters. I had a pretty voice, but not a huge voice. I then decided, if I can’t be a singer, I want to be the best actor. Whether you say it’s a calling or a disease, I just had to have it–I had to act."

Brown, a former ensemble member of Court Theatre, is now closely affiliated with Writers’ Theatre in Glencoe, where he starred in Private Lives, Candida and Nixon’s Nixon. He also directed exquisite and compelling productions of The Glass Menagerie and Incident at Vichy at Writers’ salon-like bookstore space. He taught acting for nine years at the Theatre School at DePaul University and, for the past eight years, has tackled directing. His directing credits include Tiger at the Gates for greasy joan and company, Macbeth for Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s Outreach Program, You Never Can Tell at American Players Theatre in Spring Green, Wis., and Tons of Money at Peninsula Players in Door County.

He is delighted to work with former DePaul students and TimeLine ensemble members P.J. Powers, Juliet Hart and Pat Tiedemann on Not About Nightingales, a prison-themed drama Williams penned in 1938 at the age of 27. Vanessa Redgrave discovered the unknown script and presented its world premiere at London’s Royal National Theatre in 1998. It went on to a successful run at Houston’s Alley Theatre and premiered on Broadway during the 1998-99 season.

"When P.J. [Powers] called and asked me to direct Not About Nightingales," says Brown, "I was pretty interested in directing a Tennessee Williams play few people have ever seen."

Based on a true story, Not About Nightingales centers on a group of prisoners in a Philadelphia penitentiary. In the midst of leading a hunger strike, they were locked in a steam-heated cell by a sadistic warden and roasted to death.

"It’s hugely theatrical," says Brown of the play. "When I first read the script, I felt Williams was clearly influenced by 1930s prison films. It was ambitious and exciting and passionate. Then, after spending more time with the script, I began to hear it for the first time–I heard Williams’ voice.

"Not About Nightingales transcends the prison-film model through its full-blooded characters with their own fears and desires," continues Brown. "There was a point when I realized the emotional terrain was familiar–strong versus weak; sensitive versus cruel; and how people negotiate their lives in a world that is not always understanding."

One of the director’s greatest revelations was the idea that Tom Wingfield (narrator of The Glass Menagerie) "wrote" the play. He continues, "It’s that kid who goes to the movies to escape and comes back home to his typewriter and writes Not About Nightingales." While he does not impose any conscious illustration of Tom Wingfield in this production, Brown zeroed in on the lead character’s emotional imprisonment.

"This is where the play wanted to go," he says. "The Tom Wingfield approach allowed us not to say, oh this is how a convict or a prison guard should be played. In the play, the lead character is a writer; he writes for the prison newspaper. He definitely has an unquenchable desire to address his thoughts and feelings.

"The play can be faulted for being over-ambitious. But jeez! It just can’t be underestimated. There’s this need for beauty in the midst of degradation."

Not About Nightingales has been pegged as social drama. Williams even sent the script to the Group Theatre, which rejected it for its cinematic style and "unsavory" tone. Brown believes the Group Theatre’s refusal to produce the play stemmed from the fact that Williams "did not tote the party line." Then he stresses, "But this is what makes it Tennessee Williams. He has to draw people with little needs. It’s so much more complicated than the issues at hand. He asks more."

Brown is deeply connected to writing. He entered West Virginia University on a journalism scholarship and later changed his major to music after being cast in a musical. As a child, Brown expressed himself through writing but did not enjoy its solitary nature. He needed to be around people; so the stage was a logical choice. "At a young age," he enthuses, "I vividly remember playing make believe and just buyin’ it!"

For him, the biggest payoff of being an actor is that "you get to give voice to someone else’s life."

He views acting as a balance of the big sum of one’s experiences and the ability to imagine someone else’s life. After deciding on a theatre career, Brown sought out an intensive conservatory program. He auditioned three times for the ultra-competitive ACT in San Francisco. Following the third try, he was accepted and studied there from 1979 to 1980.

"Those were the glory days of ACT," he recalls. "They had a standing company of 60 actors. We did 15 plays a year. If there was an ACT stamp, it was that theatre was a celebration; an extraordinary event; more than everyday life. We were encouraged to search for the truth."

After graduating from ACT, Brown opted to move to Chicago, where he heard there were plentiful acting opportunities. But the roles did not come fast and furious. "The first year I was here," he says with a laugh, "you could have set me on fire and no one would have spit on me! I was the king of callbacks. Then, at the end of '81, I got offered a whole season at Court Theatre."

He has performed in 16 productions at Court–more recently The Barber of Seville and Travels with My Aunt. In 1997, Brown began his artistic association with Writers’ Theatre, which he refers to as "a happy home," where he can "do plays I love with people I love."

His work as a director began in the early '90s when, like acting, he found that he just had to do it. "I realized at some point," Brown says, "I had an opinion about everything. When you begin to talk about where the lights go or about the hemline on that dress, you know it’s time to direct."

Brown was given the opportunity to direct in a most unconventional way. On and off for the past 20 years, he has been involved with Montana Shakespeare in the Parks, where he first directed The Winter’s Tale, Loves Labours Lost, All’s Well That Ends Well, The Comedy of Errors, and The Country Wife.

The troupe performs every summer in a different Montana town each night. Brown is still in awe at bringing the classics to towns like Birney (population 18) in an area called Poker Jim Butte, where out of nowhere the dirt would begin to swirl in the distance and 250 ranchers and miners would pull up in their pick-up trucks. Afterwards, the audience would bring out their fiddles and banjos and join in a huge party with the cast.

"Here you are talking with a rancher or a guy who works on the highway about the different Malvolio’s they’ve seen," says Brown. "This experience has taught me to never underestimate any audience."

Today Brown splits his time evenly between acting and directing. He doesn’t think he’s lost anything by dividing his focus.

"I’m probably easier as an actor now," he points out. "We have to remember that for the first 3,000 years or so, actors were directors. As a director, I bring a real respect for the craft. What interests and excites me more than anything are the things that are not about me. I get excited about the actor’s and designer’s choices and the surprises they stumble upon."

Brown, ever attuned to balance, views the director as someone who promotes collaboration while remaining in charge of the show’s vision. "There are directors who do to plays what dogs do to fire hydrants," he explains. "I hope that I am there to give voice to a playwright and his or her work and, subsequently, to the actors and their work.

"The director has been defined as a facilitator of conversations. I love the collaborations. I also love being at the helm of that and being a facilitator. You don’t want to be a cipher either; you don’t want to beige out."

Brown recently viewed a documentary on the late choreographer George Balanchine, who revolutionized 20th century ballet by brilliantly merging classical and contemporary styles.

"I want my directing to be like Balanchine’s choreography," comments Brown. "His work was so uncontrived. It suited the music yet was surprising. His work was inevitable and surprising at the same time. That would be the ethic I’d like to sign onto."

For this exacting and good-humored theatre artist, live performance remains an extraordinary experience. He reiterates the powerful pull of the stage.

"I couldn’t help it," Brown repeats of his desire to act and direct, "and I’m proud of it. Over time, we have been healers, priests, ambassadors, missionaries, whores, criminals, gypsies, vagabonds and outlaws. Yes, I’m all of the above–and I enjoy it!

"I believe something can happen in a theatre. It’s a communal experience that goes back to sitting around a campfire and telling stories. Theatre is one of the last bastions of civility. It’s a place where dialogue and deep thinking are encouraged."

Home