A One-Man Hamlet, MacBeth, Romeo and Juliet

Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times Will Barnet reciting lines from “Macbeth” for a small audience on the High Line park.

Like so many fledgling actors before him, Will Barnet moved to New York City to become a star. It did not take very long for Mr. Barnet, a recent graduate of Brown University, to learn how unlikely that would be.

Nonetheless, Mr. Barnet has not lacked for work. Since arriving in the city last year, he has been Hamlet, Prince Hal, Richard III, Romeo and even Juliet.

The key to landing all those plum roles has been his choice of casting director: himself. Last summer, inspired by street performers in Washington Square Park, Mr. Barnet, 23, made “a bet with myself to see if I could get people to stop and listen to ‘Hamlet.’ ”

He began delivering Shakespearean monologues that he had learned in college, and what began as a lark quickly evolved into something bigger: “Will in the Park.” Armed with a small sign offering Shakespeare by request (“Cheaper than Broadway,” it says), Mr. Barnet performs regularly for hours in Greenwich Village and on the High Line, as well as in Central Park and at farmers’ markets, where he often gets food in addition to the tips he receives. (People tip more in winter, he said.)

The High Line is his favorite spot, he said, because its narrow paths deliver him a steady stream of spectators; he especially loves to perform near a bust of Colin Powell in the park, above West 22nd Street. (But, heeding rules that bar performers from monopolizing a space, he stays on the move.)

On a recent Friday evening, the first passers-by offered mostly bemused or intrigued stares. But one monologue typically leads to another; Mr. Barnet, who says he knows three dozen soliloquies and counting, said he performs 10 to 15 an hour.

This time, Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” soliloquy, (one of the most requested), led to Macbeth’s “Tomorrow and tomorrow.” The audience included Sue Ainscough, an Englishwoman who lives in Italy with her husband, Maurizio Calbi, a Shakespeare scholar and the author of the book “Spectral Shakespeares,” which examines experimental adaptations of the playwright’s work. “It’s nice to see people spreading the word in different ways,” Mr. Calbi said after watching Mr. Barnet. “And he’s very good.”

Mr. Barnet, who lives on the Far West Side of Manhattan, was reluctant to discuss how much he earned, though during a one-hour period on the High Line recently, listeners gave him multiple $5 and $20 bills.

He said that people in Central Park were less receptive. The space is vast, and visitors tend to have a more defined agenda, he said, while Washington Square Park and the High Line attract wanderers looking for “events to witness.” (The New York University students that typically cross Washington Square Park often make requests that sound more like a challenge, Mr. Barnet said, with queries like, “What’s the one I just did in class at Tisch? It’s ‘Othello,’ let’s see you do that,” referring to the university’s arts school.)

On Friday, Lori Marcus and her son, Logan, almost walked past Mr. Barnet on the High Line but stopped and requested a speech from “Hamlet,” letting Mr. Barnet choose. He selected “How all occasions do inform against me” from Act IV.

“I usually go to ‘Shakespeare in the Park,’ ” Ms. Marcus said, “but didn’t get there this summer so this was my fix.”

That speech from “Hamlet” was followed by a request for one from “Othello,” which yielded yet another from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

Mr. Barnet, a native of South Carolina, said the constant performing had sharpened his skills. He has shaken the temptation to declaim too grandly, he said, and has broken other bad habits. He has also learned, he said, how to fix problems on the fly, adapt to a space, and keep an audience’s attention. One of his favorite moments, he said, came when a couple requested some sonnets, but their child started crying. Mr. Barnet directed his performance at the stroller “with a more lilting delivery,” which, he said, stopped the tears. Another time three older men, one of whom was an actor, took turns trading sonnet recitations with him. And once, a fan yelled down a request from an apartment roof above the High Line. Naturally, he wanted Romeo doing the balcony scene.

Mr. Barnet’s public exposure has led to “strange opportunities” including a modeling job, performances at holiday parties, and jobs coaching teenage actors. The sense of constant discovery and the direct connection with his audiences has thrilled him. “I still want to get an agent and do films,” he said, “but right now I’m earning money doing what I love to do, and it’s much more interesting than what traditional channels allow.”

Mr. Barnet is contemplating how to expand the experience. He is toying with the idea of learning all the parts for one play. “I’m not sure how I’ll pull it off, but I like the idea of just putting a sign up saying, ‘Now Playing: ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ ”