Seven times a week, Josh Groban picks up his trusty straight razor in the titular role in the acclaimed revival of Stephen Sondheim’s 1979 dark operetta “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.” This means performing barbershop shaves with hair-splitting precision and, for some unfortunate souls, cutting throats—all while singing in his rich baritone for hours on end.
Off-stage, the actor and vocalist is much more mellow, drinking a whiskey or two on his Friday night (which is actually Sunday) and doing plenty of core work and yoga stretching to stay loose. By playing against his nice guy type as the bloodthirsty, unhinged barber, Groban earned a Tony Award nomination this year for Best Actor in a Musical — his second nomination after his Broadway debut in 2017 (that’s two for two, not bad).
When he’s not treading the boards, Groban is well-known as a record-selling phenomenon, with nine studio albums under his belt, and a theater-filling concert schedule and one of the few modern singers to bridge classical and popular music genres. We caught up with the honey-voiced actor to discuss how he trains his body to take it all on, how he preps for a three-hour show where he only has about 15-minutes offstage (let's just say when to pee is often top of mind), how he mentally preps to be a killer barber each night, and how he kills times between shows.
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GQ: You’ve been doing the show for months now—how does it feel in your body?
Josh Groban: It's funny, because it’s been about six years since my last time on Broadway and you kind of pick and choose what you remember about it. You take the really hard things and you take the really great things, and you kind of leave behind the memories of just the ordinary grind. And so, with previews we're approaching 100 shows and I'm now feeling like the show is now entirely in my body and in my voice.
Little little things crept in early on, like, I didn't realize that holding the razor all day would cause a pain in my wrist. I have to swipe this way or twirl with Annaleigh [Ashford], my costar, and it would just tweak things in little ways. It's just your body waking up to new things it has to do, and then it says, Okay, well, now I know I have to do that. And then it goes away. But we also have an amazing PT that we have every day at the theater. And we've all definitely made use of that.
You’re also active on the concert circuit—how is this different from that? They both seem taxing, just in very different ways.
During a concert, I’m doing 19, 20 songs each night, all by myself. Whereas with “Sweeney Todd” I'm sharing the load with an extraordinary cast, we all share that weight. But I do, you know, four or five concerts in a week, as opposed to seven shows—and never two [concerts] in one day. It’s a different kind of grind.
What sort of extracurricular fitness things do you do to stay in shape?
Now that it's getting warmer, what I'm trying to do is be good to my body in ways that aren't necessarily, like, lifting or going to the gym. I'm trying to be good to myself and good to my body right now outside of the theater with things like, biking a lot, or taking long walks, or, playing and doing stuff in the park. Getting exercise in ways that allow me to get a little bit of vitamin D and, and let me see the world outside the stage door. At some point, I’ll get back into the gym.
What about when you’re on tour?
When I'm on tour, I get a day off every two shows. So that means that there's at least three times a week where I can just hit the hotel gym. Sometimes I'll do it on a show day—just a light workout. It’s important for me mostly for my brain; I’ve found that exercise, for me, really helps with anxiety and helps keep the gremlins away when you're dealing with all the stuff that performance requires of you.
Do you have some sort of regimen laid out for you or do you wing it?
I've got a couple of great trainers at a gym called Heart & Hustle in Los Angeles, that I work with a lot whenever I'm in LA—they've been awesome, and they give me good stuff. And in New York, I work with a wonderful trainer, Kira Stokes, who has been able to help me in a lot of different ways, not just with strength training but also she's really a specialist at core strength. And I've got a pretty bad back for playing too much tennis when I was younger. And so to keep from having nerve issues—especially with all the craziness of the stage performing—it's really important that I do a lot of extensive core work to make sure that I'm protecting my spine and using all that muscle to keep myself from having any pain.
What’s the hardest part of the show for you, physically?
The hardest part of the show, for me physically, is the last, I'd say twenty minutes of Act I where I have three really big songs in a row: a song called “Pretty Women” and then I sing “Epiphany,” which is probably the hardest of the three—it's when Sweeney has a complete and utter mental breakdown and starts to threaten the entire audience, and basically, has a full blown meltdown. And then the last song in Act One is called “A Little Priest” where they're singing about how they want to cook and kill and eat people.
Those three songs are really really difficult in a row because they are at the opposite ends of human emotion. One of them is the absolute depths of despair and then it goes to like almost maniacal happiness and excitement for this crazy plan. And in the body that holds itself in very different places—you're hunched, you're almost like a predatory animal. And then, suddenly, you're like a kid in a candy store. So there's a lot of movement involved. There's a lot of very heavy singing and screaming without any water. So when I come out on stage for my entrance before those three songs I drink a lot of water—like, a lot of water. And I just take really slow breaths and I just kind of psych myself up a little bit to kind of say, ‘You know, the only way out is through,’ and ‘Let’s go, let's go take the ride.’
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What’s your pre-theatre ritual?
I like to get to the theater, at least 90 minutes before the show, sometimes two hours, depending on traffic. I like to have my meal which is three scrambled eggs and a rice cake or a piece of toast with jam because I know that it's gonna be about four or five hours until I eat again. Getting there early gives me time to just breathe in the space, and just be there, and I’ll start warming up my voice. I do a light warm up, just to kind of see where [my voice] is, see where it's going. I like to do a lot of stretching on the floor and some very light yoga stuff. I'll do some core work on the floor, some dead bugs and planks, things like that, just to activate my body—some pushups and jumping jacks to wake-up my body. And then, before you know it, we have to go down and do what's called “fight call” which is about 45 minutes before the show, which is to go through the fight stuff—we rehearse it almost every day just to make sure that we do it safely. And then I have hair and make-up. And then I gotta go upstairs and put on the outfit. So it actually flies by, that time. Yeah, being there early actually gives me a minute to feel like I can really settle in and breathe and get myself in the right zone.
What are you doing when you’re not onstage?
I think I have about 12 minutes where I’m not onstage.
Woah!
The most amount of time I have in my dressing room is a scene where the character Toby [played by Stranger Things’ Gaten Matarazzo] is singing to Mrs. Lovett. So I get about eight minutes or so to chill in the dressing room. But otherwise, I don't really see my dressing room at all the entire show unless it except for intermission. You're really letting the show kind of guide you. And there's a lot of recalibrating, and getting your head right if it’s not already right, getting your voice right, if it's not feeling right. There's a lot of figuring it out, while you're out there. And that's something that, psychologically, I have to get myself ready to do every day, because you're on an island, once you start the show, you're on the ride, and you’ve got to figure it out.
What’s your favorite part about doing Broadway, versus concerts?
When I use my voice through the lens of the character, sometimes my voice does things that I never would have assumed that it would or could do. It teaches you what your voice is actually capable of. You know, the music world, it's very coddling. So many people are always concerned about you singing perfectly all the time, what's on your rider, stuff like that. With Broadway, you're just in it. And it's really hard. And there are things that the characters sometimes demand that go against so much of what the training has told you is important. So you have to find ways to do stuff that you normally would never do, but do it in a healthy way. Ultimately nothing stretches me and grows me like Broadway. Nothing. Nothing challenges me like this, this universe that I'm that I'm lucky enough to be in. And so for that it's a lot of fun.
Most PopularWhat are the practical things you have to keep in mind doing a show as challenging as this?
Hydration! In the moments that I'm offstage, my dresser, Emma, who is my shadow backstage and responsible for the quick changes, has a tool belt, with a tea and a water and like throat lozenges. Because sometimes I'll only have like a split second to get a little sip of tea or water that will then sustain me for a few scenes. Timing when you pee is really, really important.
Yeah all that hydration and no time off stage feels dangerous! Something I’m sure you have to really think about!
Oh my God, it is like clockwork. I know exactly when it's gonna happen. So far I've never had to do the potty dance out there. But you have to hydrate because these theaters are so dry.
What’s your diet like?
So generally a lot of the foods that I really love, I have made peace with the fact that most days I can't have them: I'm not going to do a whole lot of dairy, I’m not gonna eat a lot of cheese, I'm not going to indulge in my whiskey collection. I'm okay having a drink or two on Sunday night, because that's the end of the week and I know I've got two days off from shows. So that's the night I'll just celebrate getting through the week and my girlfriend and I might indulge and go out for a really nice dinner with some drinks. Otherwise we like to cook. I’m really hungry after the show—I don’t like to have a late dinner, but we’re a three-hour show and after that there’s stage door and then fighting Midtown traffic, so by the time I get home, sometimes it’s 11:45 pm and I haven’t eaten in seven hours. So I try to cook or order something like rice and a lean protein that won’t give me a ton of acid reflux and I steer clear of spicy food.
My go-to between shows has been this Vietnamese place near us, and I get clean, clear veggie broth with rice noodles and tofu and I get an egg in it as well. After the first show, to have something soothing and healthy like that is really nice.
Do you nap between shows?
Some people really rely on a nap, but I’ve found that I’m so warm, vocally, and marinated in the show that I don’t want to have to start over again. I’ll nap with my eyes open—I bring my Nintendo Switch to the theater and I’ll play Nintendo or do a crossword puzzle or listen to some podcasts. The time really flies, before you know it you have to get ready for the second show.
Being onstage that long must be such a test to your focus. Do you have any techniques to stay aware and in the moment up there for three hours?
I do like to meditate. Sometimes I'll do a guided meditation, sometimes I'll do a little T.M. [transcendental meditation]. My best solution is to not think about a whole lot else except the scene, the next scene that's in front of me. Because that's all the character knows and you have to see it through the eyes of what the character is going through. I can't be thinking about the end, I can't be thinking about the big moments in an hour-and-a-half. I just think about what it is that's in front of me and, and then let the show carry me. And the show is written in such an amazing way that it flows very, very well for an actor.
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Max Berlinger is a freelance writer who's based in Brooklyn, NY. He has written for the New York Times, GQ, Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg, Departures, Robb Report, Town & Country, and many other publications. He's interested in the way fashion and culture overlap. He's probably killing time on Twitter right... Read moreXInstagramRelated Stories for GQReal Life DietBroadwayWorking Out