Will Swenson: The Naked Truth About Starring in Hair
Will Swenson is the free-spirited ringmaster in the musical circus known as Hair. As a charismatic hippie named Berger, Swenson leads his circa 1967 East Village Tribe in war protests and lovefests. In real life, this Provo, Utah, native has worked constantly since making his Broadway debut in Brooklyn in 2005, including roles in Lestat, Adrift in Macao, 110 in the Shade and the recent off-Broadway premiere of yet another rock-themed musical, Rock of Ages. Swenson, alas, had to give up the chance to play Stacee Jaxx on Broadway to return to Hair, a show he’s been part of since its 40th anniversary concerts in Central Park in 2007. In typically nosy fashion, Broadway.com couldn’t resist asking the star to chart his two-year journey with Hair—including, of course, his feelings about the show’s famous nude scene—and he graciously complied.
I guess it’s appropriate that I was completely naked when I got the phone call telling me I got the part. However, naked in your hotel room as compared to naked in front of 2,000 people in the middle of Central Park are incredibly different scenarios. Certain bodily insecurities would have to be dealt with. That’s usually among the first things people ask me when they hear I’ve been a Hair “Tribe Member.” “Did you get naked?” “No,” I answer: “I had on a microphone pack and five bracelets.” But the much publicized nudity of Hair is really just the tip ahem of the iceberg amongst the fascinating moments of my Hairy journey.
Hair 1.0: Concert in the Park 2007
Hair was the first show the Public produced down on Lafayette Street in 1967. So, for the 40-year anniversary, they mounted a three-night concert at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park. And by “concert” they meant: “Fully staged and memorized production of Hair, which we learned and performed in nine days, beginning to end.” We really had no set other than a plastic psychedelic canopy over the bandstand, but Jim Rado the writer and Galt MacDermot composer were both heavily involved in the process. Huge thrill! It was a great success, so the Public chose to remount it as one of their summer shows in the Park for 2008.
In my humble opinion, there is no greater theater ever constructed than the Delacorte in Central Park. I see it this way: At the center of the world is New York City. At the center of that city is Central Park. And at the center of that park is the Delacorte Theater. I would pay them to allow me to spout a few lines of Shakespeare there every summer.
Hair 2.0: The Endless Summer 2008
What a cool treat to get to tackle a role for the second time. I guess I should mention I play the role of Berger in the show. It’s possibly the best role you could ever want to play for a couple of reasons. First, it’s a role where almost no choice is wrong. If the scene is somber and you feel like playing jubilant, no problem. If everyone on stage is standing still and you feel like dancing, that’ll totally work. Berger is completely a loose cannon. Somewhat manic, in love with the moment, the center of attention, a clown, a shaman, a pot-head, a sex machine, a dropout. Ya, know… pretty much just playing myself. Cue laugh track.
It was an insanely brilliant summer. The free tickets were super hard to come by. Amazing people were in the audience every night—politicians and celebrities alongside old hippies and energetic students. One night in a torrential downpour we sang “Let the Sun Shine In” as the drenched crowd at the Delacorte stood in the storm and sang with us. Got fully kissed on the mouth by complete strangers who were apparently feeling the message of free love, and on and on.
But apart from all that, the real privilege of the run was performing the piece itself. Sadly, as we told the story of Hair circa 1968, it was impossible not to see the similarities in our present-day American culture. We had an unpopular president, an even more unpopular war, and a controversial election under way. Our privilege every night was to tell the same story they told in 1968 and question the same conventions and challenge the same complacency that the hippies challenged back then.
It obviously struck a chord with our audiences. There were nightly sleepovers in the park for tickets—if you weren’t in line by 7AM, your chances of getting in that night weren’t too great. People came back over and over, audiences stood and sang the songs with us with tears pouring down their faces. We extended three times!
Hair 3.0: Broadway, the Final Frontier! 2009
We’re a couple of weeks into rehearsals as I write this, and so far I’ve come home every day with two things: a huge grin on my face, and a huge pain in my ass from lifting Gavin Creel, who plays Claude, all day long. Seriously, Gavin, maybe try the diet soda? Cut laugh track #2 – go! I’m so thrilled we’re going to get to run this show on Broadway. I even feel weird calling it a show—it’s much more of an event. The lines between audience and actor are beautifully blurry. The genuine sentiment bouncing off the walls of the theater is beautifully shared. My experience has been that this show resonates in a very real way with our audiences. And at a time when spirits may be low in our country, I know Hair will be a show that will lift spirits, lighten hearts and hopefully inspire some goodness. It’s all about love, baby.
Please come see all the crazy hippies! I’ll be there eight times at week at the Al Hirschfeld Theater, challenging complacency, removing my clothes and praying for a not-very-cold theater.