Barry Scott | A Man For All Seasons

“I have more directing credits under my belt the past five years than acting credits,” says Barry Scott.

That’s saying something, given that Scott is arguably Nashville’s finest actor and clearly Music City’s highest-profiled theatrical performer nationally. Those stentorian promotions you hear coming out of the television during ESPN’s NBA broadcasts are just one of Scott’s numerous gigs as an in-demand voiceover artist, and otherwise you can go back 25 years to catalog his important career as foremost local thespian, with roles ranging from Othello and Macbeth to independent films and television series and even two of Jim Varney’s Ernest comedies. Scott has also carved out a national identity as a foremost performer of the speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr., which he began doing as early as the age of 12 and has been touring regularly since he grew to manhood.

Barry Scott in Macbeth Photo by Harry Butler

Scott is also a writer of some note, with half a dozen produced scripts to his credit, often celebrating black pride, including Harlem Voices and A Joyful Noise. But the directing thing is happening these days, and that’s just a logical extension of his energy, his involvement, his experience and his always-developing talent.

For two summers running, Scott has directed gifted Tennessee State University students, first in a galvanizing urban/hip-hop adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, and, more recently, in The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged). Both of those shows exhibited Scott’s commitment to pushing younger performers toward growth by accepting unfamiliar new challenges. He also recently directed, and co-starred in, Samm-Art Williams’ The Dance on Widows’ Row at playwright/entrepreneur Jim Reyland’s Writer’s Stage venue, where he’ll return in November to direct a workshop production of Reyland’s new play, Article 4, starring another Nashville acting lion, Mark Cabus.

“I’m one of the godfathers of local theater, I guess…by virtue of still being here.”

“I’m one of the godfathers of local theater, I guess,” says Scott, with a wry smile. “By virtue of not dying…and still being here.”

By day, Scott holds the position of manager of the Cox/Lewis Theatre at TSU’s Performing Arts Center. He is also the producing artistic director for the American Negro Playwright Theatre, which he founded nearly 20 years ago. ANPT has been a foremost purveyor of great contemporary black dramas, in particular those of August Wilson, and the company has historically brought in important African American theater artists for directing assignments, including Robert Guillaume, John Henry Redwood and Woodie King.

Unbeknownst to many, Scott had a potentially life-changing opportunity auditioning in Los Angeles for Norman Lear’s Good Times. “It went well,” says Scott, “but I didn’t wind up with the role. It was quite an education for me as a young boy from Nashville, living in Hollywood in the 1970s and discovering how the games are played. So, if you were not Sidney Poitier or Bill Cosby, opportunities were actually few. I was always auditioning for the ‘cool black dude,’ ‘the jive black dude,’ ‘the convict black dude,’ ‘the pimp black dude.’ You had to be a buffoon. Plus, I wasn’t mature enough to understand and digest all of that.”

After 18 months on the West Coast, Scott returned to Music City. “I was willing to sacrifice,” he says, “but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice what I thought was my integrity. There were a lot of opportunities to forward my career if I ran in certain circles, did certain things, but I discovered quickly that there are people who are willing to compromise their integrity for money in the professional world, whether it’s politics, business or entertainment. So I went back to school, and graduated.”

“ I don’t necessarily think we have a national reputation, but I think that will change. How many black theaters anywhere are doing as much as we’re doing?”

Scott tried grad school, but it didn’t take. That’s sort of ironic since, virtual self-made man that he is, he’s now in demand as a motivational speaker on leadership and diversity at universities and corporations.

Despite the early flirtation with Hollywood, it was a good stretch of years before he gained his local legendary status. Scott’s high-profile local performances in Othello, 1994, and Macbeth, 1998, at Tennessee Repertory Theatre, he attributes directly to the vision of then-artistic director Mac Pirkle. “Othello was confirmation,” says Scott. “Macbeth was significant because it was not an all-black cast.” Other roles that have mattered big-time include the leads in Wilson’s Fences and the one-man show Looking Over the President’s Shoulder for ANPT, and also Wilson’s The Piano Lesson at the Rep, which was that company’s first-ever all-black cast.

As for the Nashville theater scene and the future, Scott is sanguine. “It’s underfunded, as are most theaters in America, but we’re relatively a friendly community. I have received so much help and support. I see evidence of tolerance, inclusiveness, goodwill and collaboration. I don’t necessarily think we have a national reputation, but I think that will change. How many black theaters anywhere are doing as much as we’re doing?”

Specifically, Scott references the rise in recent years of ambitious grassroots African American community theater groups. “It’s nonstop,” he says. “I don’t see any end in sight. And maybe the black theater movement in Nashville is making theater more accessible to people who typically felt like that was not for them. We’re onto something here.”

Comfortably in his fifties, Scott’s busier than ever. “I’ve got so much going on,” he says, “and I have to pay for that in personal relationships. My three kids love me unconditionally, but my marriage failed. Fortunately, my ex- and I are good partners in parenting.” Which, in fact, Scott considers his greatest role.

But it’s researching Dr. King’s legacy and delivering his speeches that have always afforded Scott purpose and a sense of well-being. “I can do King speeches for hours on end,” he says proudly. “They are in my consciousness. Doing that has made me the kind of person I am. It’s all about the healing.”