Meet the characters and cast of Stereophonic

You may know him as:
Achilles’s heel, Patroclus, in Shakespeare in the Park’s Troilus and Cressida

What is Peter’s role in the band?
Peter is the guitarist of the band and one of the three vocalists in the band. He also ends up becoming the lead producer on the album as the show goes on. He's the driving force of the group—the kinetic energy that forces the group forward. You can't run a car without an engine, but the engine can be big and dirty, messy and combustible. 

What does Peter want?
I think he wants a family, and the other things are a means to that end—whether it be his relationship with Diana or his relationship with the band or the desire to make something together that is the album. To him it all represents…maybe he doesn't even know it, but it all represents the end goal of a stable family, of belonging to a group or a relationship.

How does Peter change?
All rock stars have a persona, and that sort of bleeds into his life. But this mask starts to crack. He goes from a really guarded place to an incredibly vulnerable place by the end of the play. It’s an emotional change, and by the end of the play you see the beginning of a healing journey.

What do you and Peter have in common?
I've worked on this as I've gotten older and in many hours of therapy, but I can be slightly a control freak. Also, I think all of us use masks in different ways to kind of get through life, through the struggles of every day. And it eventually cracks, you know? I’ve had to go through that in my life as well.

How are you different from Peter?
He can be abusive in so many ways, and I don't think I am an abusive individual. He lashes out in a way that I don't think I've ever done in my life. That penchant for lashing out is just not inside of Tom, but it's fun to play. Peter does stuff that I would never do or never want to do, but it exercises something inside of myself.

How much guitar experience do you have?
I played guitar for about five years before we started—pretty rudimentary basic guitar, just strumming chords and whatnot. I'd never played a riff in my life. So it was a journey to get to a point where I could play “Masquerade,” the hardest, most technical song in the show. I was a boy soprano as a kid and sang opera and then started doing musicals after school and in community theater. I really thought musical theater was gonna be my way into the industry—but to this day I've never done a musical professionally. This is the closest thing. To be singing on Broadway in a play is astounding to me.

You may know her as:
Kathryn Hahn's younger self in Tiny Beautiful Things 

What is Diana’s role in the band?
Diana sings lead and sometimes backup vocals. She writes her own music in collaboration—sometimes, not all the time—with her boyfriend Peter. And she plays a mean tambourine. I think she's just really happy to be there. She can't believe that this is her life. She's not a troublemaker; I think she gives a sense of safety and stability to Holly, and Holly likewise does that for Diana. But she has provided the band with some hit songs, and a lot of this story is her sort of coming to realize that and finding her agency, finding her own role in this band. 

What does Diana want?
Diana wants to keep making music in this environment with these people, but feel respected for how she makes her art and what her artistic journey is. She wants to be able to make her music without it interfering with her relationships—not just her romantic relationship but with everyone in the band. In my backstory, she's always been musical, but it was never in an effort to become a rock star. That just happened to her because of this song that she and Peter worked on, and now they find themselves in this band. Being musical is just her way—it's her self-expression. It's like a shadow self that she can take up space with. She contemplates the world and her feelings through music. 

How does Diana change?
At the beginning of the play she is just excited to be in the studio making music. But she starts realizing that she can no longer push down her feelings. She starts standing up for herself, in terms of cutting verses or keeping verses, or venturing out and doing her own thing. And she begins to separate herself from the entanglement, artistically and emotionally, with her boyfriend. She's striving towards a sense of independence.

What do you and Diana have in common?
Her uncertainty about what she does is something that resonated quite strongly with me. I was so opinionated when I was in college and growing up, but in this industry there's a lot of rejection and a lot of people that hold the keys to the kingdom. So there’s a lot of questioning—not knowing what your place is or what your strength is, or questioning your instincts. Diana struggles with that a little bit, and I share that with her. I'm working on it. Also, I'm not confrontational, and I think that Diana really doesn't wanna confront Peter. And then things sort of take a turn, dramatically.

How are you different from Diana?
My understanding of being a woman operating in 2024 is very different from her experience. I'm more aware of the dynamics in a professional environment and in relationships—of not limiting women's voices and feeling respected in the workplace and things like that. And despite being very anti-confrontational, there’s a belief that I hold quite strongly to advocate for myself. I can stand up for my artistic pursuits.

How much tambourine experience do you have?
Believe it or not, the tambourine is not as easy as you might think! It does take a certain amount of wrist flexibility, and tempo. And it sort of has a mind of its own. I thought it would be easier when I picked it up. But I'm not doing anything too complicated. It’s sort of about letting go, but then being able to bring it back. I'm proud of the progress that I've made on the instrument.

You may know him as:
Dimension hopper Scott in The OA or Roy Cohn in Fellow Travelers 

What is Reg’s role in the band?
Reg plays bass and wreaks havoc. He is the chaos agent of the group. He tries to live at the fringes of human existence, so there's a lot of luxuriating in art, drugs, alcohol. And he wants to express himself very fully through his art, so his style of playing often doesn't fit exactly the mold of the band. His wife is in the band—they're both original members—and once upon a time, the band was more about creating things that were enjoyable for an audience. Now they've become a product that is sellable, and some of the more experimental forms of their art are less welcome. Reg is really rebelling against that. He’s like an unweeded garden—constantly overflowing with expression, to the chagrin of the rest of the band and his wife.

What does Reg want?
I think it’s love, baby. I think he wants to be loved and to be loved by himself, his wife and the natural world around him. I think he wants to be held and embraced by those three things in particular.

How does Reg change?
Reg is sort of an ancient holdover—he's like the pagan of the group. He's like the old Gods, this thing that does not fit and is at war with the new structure. And he loses to a certain degree; it's very hard for old Gods to survive in the face of bureaucracy. But he’s a searcher: He’s searching for answers and a place to fit. At the beginning of the play, it seems like the only place he's gonna fit is a wooden box. And by the end of the play, he's found something really rejuvenating and healthy to cling onto. I think it's very inspiring to see somebody actually find that.

What do you and Reg have in common?
There’s a lot of his life that's represented in the play that parallels my own life. A lot of his Dionysian tendencies are very familiar to me. I think my friends who come and see the show are reminded of a Will who's not really with us now—who has been overrun, not just by bureaucracy but also by good and healthy choices. I identify with his desire to live in harmony with the earth and to live inside beauty and art, and his being ruled by a desire for affection and to be taken care of. 

How are you different from Reg?
It took me a long time, but I think I have found my boundaries. I've learned to integrate some of my Dionysian tendencies into a healthy lifestyle; I don't know if Reg ever gets there. And I think I'm more ambitious than Reg. I have a love of art, but I also have a love of community and  the community around artmaking. If Reg could play bass in a field of tulips for the rest of his life, he would. And that's not exactly what I want.

How much bass experience do you have?
I play four songs really well now. I've never been able to perform music before. It’s so otherworldly. To be layering a character on top of another form of art is a breathtaking experience. And all of these stories are going on while I'm playing—it may be reflecting a relationship between me and the drummer or Peter or my wife, or reflecting my relationship to alcohol. There's a scene where I go from being blackout drunk to high on cocaine while I'm playing a song. That's really fun. 

You may know her as:
Jeremy Strong’s assistant on Succession or an art-dealing witch on American Horror Story: Delicate 

What is Holly’s role in the band?
She's one of the vocalists, and she plays the piano and the keys. She's one of the original members of the group. I think she's quite musically confident. On one hand she's like Peter, but in a less bossy and toxic way: a person who offers suggestions, even if unsolicited to other people about how their music should sound or what might work. And I think she's also, for the most part, the emotional anchor in the band. I think she takes a little less cocaine than everyone else. And takes out her frustration in her cigarette habit more than in screaming or histrionics.

What does Holly want?
I think she wants harmony, and consistency.

How does Holly change?
Over the course of the play, her emotional guards are taken down or taken away from her, and she gets more and more fried. And the very thick walls, the sort of crab shell that she has constructed for herself over her life, gets tapped away by those little mallets. And at the end I think she's just, like, shell-less.

What do you and Holly have in common?
She leaves a lot unsaid, which is true of me. She withholds. I think I have that in common with her.

How are you different from Holly?
She is very stoic. I think I really wear my heart on my sleeve and I'm emotionally voluble; if I'm upset, I'm like, “I'm sad!” And when she's upset, she has an inner vortex that goes into the ground and she doesn't say anything until she really does. 

How much piano experience do you have?
I took lessons until the sixth grade. Will [Butler] and Justin [Craig, the play's music director] are so patient and so quietly confident in our ability to get there. And it's also rock music; it's not Rachmaninoff. The hardest part was getting over the jitters of playing in front of people, over being terrified of making a mistake in front of other people in the band, let alone an audience. But because of the structure of the play and the way the songs are folded in, the acting of the songs has actually made it much easier to play—it didn't feel like the expectation was ever to play objectively perfectly, but to play in whatever state of being Holly is in.

You may know him as:
Axel, the queen’s Swedish lover in Adjmi's Marie Antoinette

What is Simon’s role in the band?
I'm the drummer. I'm the drummer and also the de facto manager, because if I didn't do it, I don't think anybody else would. And being the manager—from the logistical and morale standpoint—is just basically herding cats.  I'm not one of the couples in the band; I am half of a couple, but the other half of my couple is across the Atlantic Ocean, which brings up its own challenges during the course of the play.

What does Simon want?
To finish the album while keeping the family together. But if he had to prioritize one or the other, then it's to finish the album—because he already has a family on the other side of the Atlantic, which he is leaving behind to do this, for way longer than he thought, and risking losing it all to make this album. 

How does Simon change?
He becomes way more realistic about what's happening. There's a lot of possibility in the beginning, a lot of potential, a lot of excitement, a lot of playfulness, a lot of creativity. And I think that gets maintained. But all of that sharpens to a very pragmatic point by the end.

What do you and Simon have in common?
A love of music, a love of my family. A love of my friends. There's a playfulness to Simon that I immediately identified with when I read the play a year ago. And kind of the desire to just immerse yourself in the creative process, sometimes to the detriment of other important parts of your life.

How are you different from Simon?
I’m American, and he's British. Simon is way more patient, way more composed, at least outwardly. I'm much more expressive emotionally. It’s been incredibly helpful to have my emotionality, my kind of expressiveness, and then wrap it up in Simon's Britishness and composure and his need to be the adult in the rooms at some points—his need to be the manager, his need to be the dad. And thankfully I've learned a lot from Simon, so I can maybe take some of his tools that he uses (with varying degrees of success) into my own life and be like, “Well, here's a good place for you to not lose control.”

How much drums experience do you have?
I've been playing drums since middle school, but I've never considered myself a drummer. I've been through various phases of my life where I played more or less drums. I was in a band in college called Blind Rafferty. We’re actually on Spotify—we have like three followers. I'm sure it's three of the other guys who were in the band. If the Pogues were punk Irish, we were like hippie Irish, but American. It was a very intense, really fun period; we played a lot of bars in Portland. But when I moved here, I didn't have any place to keep my drums and I didn't know anybody, so I didn't really play for a long time. But over the course of the last six months or whatever, I’ve played six or seven days a week. So I'm in a really gratifying place with this kind of other form of expression and creativity that I've always loved, but have never engaged in as seriously and embraced as wholeheartedly.

You may know him as:
Idina Menzel's gay son in Skintight 

What is Grover's role with the band?
Grover is the recording engineer for the album that this unnamed band is putting together. Peter has enlisted his services to record and mix this album with them. So there’s the technical aspect of it: just like getting good sound and mixing it to the specifications of the artist. But he also has to keep a cool head. It’s a very high-stress environment—there are a lot of different voices and a lot of different things going on. So you gotta kind of keep your head down in the controls, and make sure that things are flowing well. 

What does Groverwant?
He wants to do a good job. He wants to serve the overall vision. But he also wants to connect with people. I think he wants to be loved.

How does Grover change?
He starts out as sort of a fanboy of Peter, who embodies a lot of the qualities that, particularly in the Seventies, were glorified in men: He’s a rock star and he's cool and he is good at guitar and charming. Grover is enamored with that image and in a lot of ways sort of wants to emulate it. And then over the course of the play, he discovers some things about that way of being that are not healthy, and is disillusioned by a lot of things—by selfishness in general—and frustrated by it. I think he’s very lonely throughout the play. So one way he changes is from the fanboy to, “This is what I'm doing and this is what I have to do in,” or, “The tempo's off, and I need to tell you about it. I have an idea and we're gonna do it.”

What do you and Grover have in common?
Grover's a straight man in the Seventies, and I think he has a sweetness to him that has sort of been beat out of him. He feels like he's supposed to embody maleness in a very specific way. But he has a really strong sense of right and wrong and a lot of integrity. And that's something that I relate to. Because I’m sort of, like, a sweetheart! But I was under the illusion that certain things were required of me, in my performance of personhood, that I've needed to let go of to be a better human being. And that to me is a big part of Grover’s journey. I can also relate to his passion for music and doing things well and serving a greater thing—being an actor, being an artist, you want to contribute in a meaningful way to what ultimately is someone else's vision. 

How are you different from Grover?
I think he's probably better at keeping a cap on his own perspective. My parents are both therapists, so I was encouraged to communicate and emote in ways that like most people, especially Grover, have not been taught was  okay. In some ways I think I can be more free with it than most people are comfortable with. That's another thing—for better or worse, he has learned to bite his tongue more. He's a little more shy or self-contained…until he isn't.

How much engineering experience do you have?
None, and I'm not a musician either. But I feel like the extent to which I'm excited by music rivals that of a musician. I don't really read books or watch seasons of TV; I go home, I get stoned, and I listen to music. It's my favorite thing. So I do have an ear for different production choices and stuff. I appreciate that. When it came to understanding the ins and outs of how stuff gets made, I have some friends who work in studios that I spoke to ahead of the first rehearsal. Justin, the music director, and Will, the composer, have been really good resources as well. 

You may know him as:
Rags in his own dystopian musical Rags Parkland Sings the Songs of the Future 

What is Charlie’s role with the band?
Charlie is the assistant recording engineer. He has a lot of tasks: He's loading and unloading the tape and keeping everything labeled and queuing it up and adjusting mics and swapping out cables. He is definitely the least powerful person in the room. He's incredibly knowledgeable and skillful, but he's on the lowest rung of the ladder. So when all of the drama unfolds and people start to get snippy and mean to each other, it tends to trickle all the way down to Charlie. And Charlie kind of just has to either absorb it or let it roll off because there's nobody else for Charlie to turn to and pass it along.

What does Charlie want?
Charlie wants to do a really great job on this record, and wants to be where the magic is happening. I think of him as being strangely self-actualized. He's not chasing some big ambition or some idea of stardom. He really loves the thing that he does and he knows the value of it and he's really good at it. That's enough for Charlie. It’s something that he feels excited and grateful about getting to do, and I imagine he's going to keep doing it. So in a weird way, Charlie is kind of getting what he wants, right out of the gate—and then there are a lot of obstacles to being able to actually do his work and for it to be the fun, cool time that it can be.

How does Charlie change?
Charlie gets worn down over the course of the show. Early on, very little seems to affect him too much. But over the course of a year with these people, it really starts to get to him. One of my favorite things in the show is the last thing that Charlie says in the play; there's almost like a breaking point that Charlie hits and then he kind of detaches from the room and from the process. It's hard to notice because everybody else is doing so much and you're caught up in it, but there's a moment that's sort of the last time Charlie says anything. I think it’s a fun thing to look out for.

What do you and Charlie have in common?
I really enjoy observing the dynamics of people and rooms and different social settings and things. A lot of what Charlie is doing in the play is much like the audience. Charlie is getting to watch this group of people and sort of observe them closely. And, you know, he comes up with little ideas and thoughts about what's going on between them that sometimes you hear about and other times you don't. And I am always tickled to get to do that in a space, especially a new place—to peek into a preexisting dynamic and sit back and get the lay of the land.

How are you different from Charlie?
Charlie is more hapless than I am. For whatever reason, he feels like something of an innocent. I don't think he actually is, but there's a purity about him and the way that he's surprised or delighted by things—or the way he'll get kind of flummoxed and overwhelmed–that isn't particularly me. I'm pretty calm and plugged in and able to respond articulately; Charlie's much more blown about in the wind.

How much engineering experience do you have?
I’m a musician and a songwriter, so I've been in recording studios, but I've never recorded an album as an engineer. So it's been fun to watch videos and go deep and talk to real recording engineers about the process. I've learned about how all of it works so we can adequately appear to be doing what we're not literally doing in the show.