A Walk With Colton Ryan

Red shirt by Social Work, Sweater and necklace by Tanner Fletcher

Meeting Colton Ryan is like happening upon a friendly stranger.

Words by Dio Anthony

He’s immediately gracious and neighborly. The boy next door who’s curious about your day and holds the door open. The face you strategically pick out in a crowd to ask for directions. He stands a sprinkle under 5’9. 26 years old, younger than me by a number of years, but it doesn’t feel that way. An old soul if it weren’t so cliche… but it is, and so I don’t say that to him. We’re sitting inside a quiet bakery in the heart of midtown. Amy’s Bread. It holds two tables and an ordering counter. Lined with exposed brick and vibrant turquoise paneling. It’s my first time here, for him it’s an old stomping ground of sorts. A place he’d often find himself in when first relocating to New York in his very early 20s. He recalls being alone in the big city and frequenting Amy’s Bread in-between showtimes at the Music Box Theater. Where he under-studied for Dear Evan Hansen, fresh out of college. 

I first learned of Ryan a few years ago, in the fall of 2020. The world was a few months into a new normal––a universal quarantine, and like many Americans, my days consisted largely of watching movies, drawing the characters in those movies, and recommending said movie, show or podcast to a family member or friend––every chance I got. The film in question was Uncle Frank, a hard-hitting coming of age story set in the early 70s. Written and directed by Alan Ball. I’d go on to think about this movie and the feelings it left me with for days following the viewing. 

In it Ryan plays Bruce, a conniving and handsome college student. It’s a small role that immediately feels like a real person. His approach to the character is energetic, at times chaotic. It lends familiarity to the character, like a prototype of someone you used to know. 

At the time of this reading, he’s just completed work on a different type of role–that of a real person. Conrad Roy III in The Girl From Plainville. Roy committed suicide at age 18, in 2014. I assume the facts around his death are familiar to you now. Ryan, plays the late teen with might, depth and bravado. It’s hard to watch, but you can’t look away because his performance is so inviting. The series depicts fear, dependency, multiple versions of love, anguish and everything in between. We sit down for what I hope is a candid conversation about life––his life. A free flow of conversation begins to unfold.

RYAN: There’s a sort of existential fear factor that is so much higher than anything quantifiable when we were younger. Don’t you think? How old are you? 

ANTHONY: I just turned 32.

RYAN: How’s it feel? 

ANTHONY: Feels like a great decade. ​​This is cheesy, but… When you’re in your twenties, people tell you about your thirties.  Just like they do in your teens about getting older. It’s so cheesy to say, but It’s a nice age. What I was told is that things will fall into place, and that’s a very general statement. But it’s true. Speaking for myself at least, I feel more secure of who I am. It’s very much a what’s meant for me, won’t pass me mentality. But, all the time. I’ve learned to appreciate the natural flow of my life more. Whereas in my twenties… Wait, I feel like I’m preaching to you, because you’re still in your twenties, right?  

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RYAN: I am. But no, not at all. I’ve been hearing this a lot recently––mainly because most of my friends are in their thirties. My girlfriend gets a lot of it, because she’s 29, and so people like to remind her that something’s coming. For me, honestly, most of my actions would lead anyone to think I’m a 35-year-old man. I’m trying to buy a house, I’m getting married soon––all these things. 

ANTHONY: “Adult Stuff”

RYAN: Right. Whatever that means. But, I have been hearing that more and more and it's funny because I believe it. When you said things will fall into place, my immediate thought was a similar thing I heard which was “you'll get settled.”

ANTHONY: Yes. Settled is a word that’s thrown around. 

RYAN: I also heard you have more energy. You’re reaffirmed as a 30-year-old.

ANTHONY: Yeah! I feel like you almost rejuvenate in a sense. When you’re in your 20s, you think 25 is old. Then you jump a couple years and that feeling goes away at 28––at least in my experience.  Then 29 is a nice number.

RYAN: It is a nice number. I'm a little into astrology and 29 is when Saturn returns. It signals the end of something and the transition into something else. Something bigger. 

ANTHONY: Oh that's interesting. I've actually never heard heard that before.

RYAN: It's the unsettling. It’s the great change. Saturn only makes a revolution every 29 years. If you believe that actually affects your internal peace or turmoil.

ANTHONY: How much are you into astrology? 

RYAN: A bit. In the way that when I became a bit more invested in it, which I’m currently not––it made me feel so much calmer for a moment, about my own internal affairs. When I first got into the astrology stuff I was judging internally the way I was feeling about things, instead of just acknowledging what is. I was in a phase of not understanding why I was feeling certain ways about things. 

ANTHONY: You didn’t understand your feelings?.

RYAN: Yeah. And just judging them instead of going–– okay, that's there. I wonder why? I had a brilliant coworker. My friend Brittany O’Grady. Who's lovely, and super into astrology.  I’d tell her I was running late this morning and she’d be like hmmm, interesting. That’s Gemini behavior. Everything was interesting or very Gemini of me. I couldn’t escape it. 

ANTHONY: [Laughs] That’s funny, I know someone who does the same. She picks up on things and attributes it to a sign.

RYAN: But I love it. When I actually started looking up things for myself, what I was reading made me feel relieved.  Relieved that I wasn’t alone in feeling the way I was feeling. Whether it’s actually tied to the moon crest or when the tide rolls over–– or whatever the f#ck someone wrote down, oh—you have a scorpion moon heart? That means that when you look at things, you immediately go to the dark. Or that your love is really sacred, and trust is big. So when someone breaks it, it’s done. 

DUVIN DESIGN PINK SHIRT, RED SWEATER VEST BY RE/DONE, THOM BROWNE TIE

ANTHONY: Right! Someone wrote these stipulations that we’re following to this day.

RYAN: Someone wrote it down and I went, oh my God, I'm not the only person!  I was judging myself in the way I was viewing the world.

ANTHONY: It’s very interesting that someone wrote these rules of thumb for astrology signs. I spoke to someone recently who told me I wasn’t a regular pisces, and explained to me why I wasn’t. I had never heard my sign described the way she described it. It made me think of how often we latch on to those supposed personality traits, because they can feel like it's who we are and why we do things.  

RYAN: I can't let it be like, pre-destiny for me. When it hits, I let it hit. I can subscribe to this right now. Like anything in moderation in life.  It can feel like a religion. Being like, I like that part of this, but that’s it…not the other part.

ANTHONY: Like a religion, sure. Did you have a religious upbringing in Kentucky?

RYAN: No, I didn’t. My Dad was Irish. An Irish catholic before coming to the states. He’s in the register and everything. I’ve never gone to check it out, but I should probably do that some day…

ANTHONY: You’ve mentioned your dad and his passing in other interviews. I don’t want to get dark, but you smiled just now as you spoke about him… When did he pass?

RYAN: Oh, it’s not dark. I mean, it is in that it happened. But it has had an impact on me. The impact is good. I’m so proud of who I am. I love myself. intrinsically my origin story still involves that fact. I can't disassociate the two things. I can't wish for a different way, because then I wouldn't be me today. Maybe I wouldn't love myself the same?

Colton wears BODE

ANTHONY: You wouldn't be the same person.

RYAN: I’d  be on a totally different road. He passed away when I was 11 in 2006.

ANTHONY: Wow. My niece is 11 now. I can picture it, but I can’t imagine

RYAN: It's a very formative time. I was going into sixth grade at the time. When it happened, I didn’t go back to school for a while. I was a really lucky kid, in a magnet school that was primarily based in arts education. The whole deal was that from the fourth to eighth grade, you were in your own building. All art kids. We’re talking  25 kids per grade.  So you knew everyone and everyone knew you.  I was staying home because they knew what had occurred in my family and were so lovely to let me take the time that I needed. They were beautiful artistic people, so they understood. But when I came back I had the Mark of Cain. Actually that's a bad analogy because it was the opposite. I had this mark–– almost like a Harry Potter scar. Colton the wizard. It was like,  all of a sudden I had all these eyes on me. In a really beautiful, really loving and gentle and warm way.

Illesteva Sunnies, Rag and Bone shirt, Re/Done Jeans

Rowing Blazers Sweater

My phone lights up with a text message. I try to ignore it, but tend to it quickly before meeting his eyes again. 

ANTHONY: My friend just moved here from Los Angeles. She just texted me. We text all the time, most days, all through the day. It’s something I think about when sitting down to watch the series (The Girl From Plainville). The scenes in which your character and Elle’s are texting each other–and suddenly they're in the same room. It feels that way when I’m texting my friend. The depiction of this constant digital back and forth has really stuck with me. 

RYAN: Do you feel really connected when you and your friend text?

ANTHONY: Extremely. In many ways she’s in the same room with me.

RYAN: The vulnerability aspect of that can be overwhelmingly real.

ANTHONY: It fascinates me because we never know what someone is doing on their phone. It is such an intimate act. 

RYAN: Like you said, you don't actually know what's going on with the phone, but it's become such an external appendage to us. I think the series  makes a case for going like––let's pause for a second. I think there's a weird duality to the phone. where it can connect you to your friend across the country but it can also be a point of attachment, and in this case an extreme one. How many times have you sat in front of someone and they're clearly somewhere else? I've been that person, too. Personally I can feel it when I am. I’ll tell my therapist––I’m having a bad week cuz I'm on the phone a lot. I’m literally going somewhere else. Scrolling through insta, tiktok or looking through some Airbnbs. Where could I escape right now? 

Red sunnies by Illesteva, Sweater by Bode, Pants by Levis, Shoes by Camper

ANTHONY: That’s so intuitive. I’ve never stopped to think where that initial inkling to connect elsewhere is coming from. 

We’ve been sitting for close to an hour now. There’s a untouched chocolate filled pastry in front of me. Too invested to eat. Across from me, he’s wrapping up the last bites of a sandwich. We get up and leave the quiet of the cafe and step out into the busy streets of 9th avenue. It’s warmer than it was when we first sat down. He’s wearing a white tank and a gray cardigan. A cap too. I wonder if it’s to block out the sun, or perhaps block his face from being noticed. We’re in the theater district afterall. Before I know it we arrive at his car––a couple blocks away. I’ve learned so much about him by pin balling from topic to topic. Yet, something that I’m not used to happens––I’m filled with more questions than I had at the start of our sit-down. 

This interview has been condensed. Full Transcript in American Studies Vol 3 available June 2022.

Written by Dio Anthony Styling by Jensen Edmondson