Guy Adkins in Court Theatre's Hamlet

As aspiring Broadway tap dancer-comedian Harry in Steppenwolf Theatre’s recent production of The Time of Your Life, Guy Adkins spent a large part of William Saroyan’s Depression-era drama practicing hammy routines. But, in a remarkable feat of delicately controlled acting, he managed to not chew a scrap of scenery. Instead Adkins unobtrusively floated through director Tina Landau’s living circus-mural of humanity like a one-man chorus representing the vague promise of light in a grim world.

Adkins, a prolific music-theatre artist who has successfully crossed over into other genres, has illuminated countless Chicago-area stages without resorting to the chirpy, sparkling veneer associated with the classic brand of Broadway-style musicals. Quite an achievement, considering the actor’s earliest obsession with getting noticed.

"I was always an attention-getting kid," says Adkins, who is in his early 30s. "But my mom made sure I kept my ego in check. She taught me the importance of having a responsible and professional attitude, and basic values like humility and punctuality."

Adkins trained as a triple threat talent, learning to play the piano, sing, dance and act. All essential building blocks for a career in music theatre. But his vast accomplishments in that realm, while they appear to mirror the star-is-born plots of vintage musicals, are now pushing him into roles that don’t require tap shoes or a tenor lilt.

His title role in Court Theatre’s controversial-conceptual Hamlet earlier this year marked a key turning point for him. He was inspired to delve into Shakespeare–a desire initially sparked when he starred as Sebastian in Court’s Twelfth Night in 2001. Currently, he’s portraying Octavius in Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s production of Julius Caesar, running through Feb. 23. Then he moves on to Court’s The Romance Cycle, encompassing the challenging plays Cymbeline and Pericles (the title role)–opening in April.

His goals, although grounded in the stage, have been malleable ever since he quit the swim team at Chippewa Falls High School (Wisc.) to perform in plays and community theatre. His choir teacher even suggested he move to New York immediately after graduation. Instead Adkins chose to expand his training. He enrolled at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point because of its strong dance program. While there, he would practice ballet, jazz and modern dance five hours a day, seven days a week. He received his BFA in musical theatre and dance. Then he stopped dancing.

"I got burnt out at a young age,’ Adkins explains. "I just hit a wall…I was exhausted. I realized that I couldn’t live a dancer’s life. I was 21 years old, and I never went back to [dance] class."

As fate would have it, once he began his music-theatre journey, he was frequently asked to dance–and often found himself in the tap realm (a form he did not study in depth but for which he had a natural affinity).

At the University of Wisconsin, he credits three instructors with shaping his career: acting mentor Susan Rush, whose techniques he continues to apply; vocal teacher Jean Saladino, who made him believe he could sing anything, including opera; and dancer instructor James Moore, who performed in Jerome Robbins’ works in the 1950s.

"They were not only academics," says Adkins, "they knew what it was like to be in the business."

After graduating and landing a few dinner-theatre gigs in Wisconsin, Adkins moved to Chicago in 1992. He immediately got his Equity card after being cast in The Sound of Music at Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire, an organization that took him under its wing, and where he worked for many years. For most of the 1990s, he alternated between Marriott and Drury Lane Oakbrook Terrace.

Yet he longed to break into non-music theatre–a goal he believes can pose a major challenge for music-theatre artists.

"There’s a stigma attached to music theatre," he observes. "It’s perceived that they’re not real actors, which isn’t true at all. And I think for actors, who are working in the music-theatre houses in the suburbs, it means they’re getting work. So a certain complacency can set in. They keep getting cast in those shows and, because they can make a living doing that, they won’t go to general auditions in the city; they won’t look at other options."

Adkins found himself in a similar dilemma. He believes a combination of luck and hard work helped him break through the music-theatre glass ceiling. Goodman Theatre’s casting director, Tara Lonzo, had seen him in the title role of Drury Lane Oakbrook Terrace’s Peter Pan in the mid-1990s and kept an eye on him. She was preparing to cast Arcadia–a play Adkins had seen and loved in New York.

"I worked really hard on that audition," notes the actor. "I did a lot of research and spent a great deal of time on the language. Michael Maggio was the director, and he was willing to take a chance on me. At the time, I had mainly music-theatre credits on my resume. Tara Lonzo and Michael Maggio are responsible for that [non-musical] door being opened."

Adkins also had an epiphany during Arcadia, a production, he says, which boasted a magical and supportive cast. "I remember getting the part," he says. "Then I realized that I hadn’t done a play since I was in school. Yet I wasn’t daunted. I had the capacity, like everyone else, to use language in a provocative way. I felt like an artist at Goodman."

But, even at the Goodman, Adkins got a chance to sing. He was later cast in The Visit, Floyd Collins and The House of Martin Guerre, as well as the plays Design for Living, Straight as a Line and A Christmas Carol. At Court Theatre, he has performed in Piano, Invention of Love, The Learned Ladies and Fair Ladies at a Game of Poem Cards.

Other work includes Misalliance at Writers’ Theatre; Away, The Last Survivor and Visiting Mr. Green at Northlight and productions at Apple Tree Theatre. Regional appearances are San Diego’s Old Globe; Philadelphia’s Prince Music Theatre; and Atlanta’s Alliance Theatre Company. Adkins is the recipient of three Jeff Awards, three After Dark Awards and Philadelphia’s Barrymore Award.

Today, he is intent on stretching his boundaries as an actor: "My first love will always be music theatre," he acknowledges, "but now I have a great passion for theatre in a larger sense."

Shakespeare is a top priority.

"Actors with a music-theatre background inherently know how to perform Shakespeare because of the rhythms," Adkins points out. "I find Shakespeare very easy to memorize. But it’s also really fun and challenging. It feels like a puzzle.

"I apply the technique to score a monologue–I’m marking accents and punctuation. I took Kate Buckley’s First Folio class, and it made me aware of how Shakespeare gives us the clues right in the text. He tells us what to stress. It’s like giving actors a road map."

Yet the actor reminds other artists that impeccable line readings do not equate with a successful mastery of the Bard. "You must be invested in the storytelling," he stresses. "You can’t just speak the verse beautifully."

Eager to learn and dive into diverse styles, Adkins does not have a surefire formula for success. But he does believe that actors need to maintain a balance between perfecting their craft, preparing for auditions and being savvy about managing their careers. He investigates the plays in any given theatre’s season and devotes long hours to delivering a powerful and truthful audition–opting to concentrate on a few pointed choices in a three- to five-minute monologue or song.

Adkins also encourages actors to form professional relationships with directors and theatres with whom they are working and cultivate a "healthy ego."

"As an actor," he urges, "you have to grab your power when you can get it. You can exercise your power in reasonable ways, even if it means asking for a small perk. For example, I won’t understudy anymore…unless I have no other choice. At the same time, you should be a good employee, have fun and be professional. People should like working with you."

His generosity as a performer on stage has been evident in the vast and varied productions I’ve seen Adkins in since 1993. He talks about the importance of respect for other artists.

"I’ve always been drawn to the idea of sharing a scene," he explains. "I don’t like the term 'upstaging’ or 'stealing a scene.’ I enjoy having my back to the audience and throwing the focus on another actor. Later, when it’s appropriate, I’ll take the focus back.

"As an actor, you have to check your ego at the door, and you have to learn when to choose your moments. Tina Landau–who is my hero–taught me so much. With Viewpoints, you learn to be aware of everything around you, and you inherently pull focus–your kinesthetic response is off of something else that happens."

For Adkins, ultimately all the choices come from the text. "It’s not about taking a moment but sharing a moment," he reiterates. "And don’t forget to tell the story."

Now that he’s been working consistently in Chicago for 10 years, has Adkins considered moving to New York or LA?

"LA doesn’t interest me," he responds. "But I have thought about moving to New York–only if I’ve exhausted all of my possibilities in Chicago.

"I’m convinced that I couldn’t have this career any place else because of all the subscription-based houses here and five-show seasons. But it’s so much more than that. Chicago has a great reputation around the world for the quality of its theatre and the fact that we are focused on the work–because we know we’re not going to get a television series. Our focus has to be on the work. And the community is very supportive; the artists are so invested."

Adkins is so committed to local theatre that he turned down a role in the national tour of The Lion King–a move that prompted most of his friends to question his sanity. He was cast as a British butler bird figure, who was required to manipulate a large puppet–a role that didn’t particularly speak to him.

"They offered me a one-year contract," he says, "with no out clause. I could have bought a house with the money they would be paying me. But I said no."

His reasons were varied and included the possibility that Steppenwolf’s The Time of Your Life may go to Broadway (a show with which he would rather be associated). And he didn’t want to drop out of the Chicago scene–even though several months of The Lion King tour would be in Chicago.

"It meant dropping out of The Romance Cycle," Adkins continues. "And, while I would be in Chicago with Lion King, I would only be able to hear about all these shows here that I wanted to be a part of. I would rather be working with friends on two problematic Shakespeare plays at Court than getting cast in Lion King–although the idea of being able to buy a house did appeal to me.

"Like other actors, I want a Tony Award — and I may even move to New York some day. But, right now, a Tony is not that important to me. I love this town."

What sets Chicago apart from other cities?

"There’s so much safety in this town," answers Adkins, the excitement in his voice rising. "Where else could I have been cast as Hamlet? [Court’s artistic director] Charlie Newell trusted me with that role and I, in turn, trusted his vision.

"When there’s that level of safety, trust and commitment, that’s when I feel most like an artist."

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