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'I've at least had a go'... Bill Paterson. Photograph: Graeme Robertson for the Guardian
'I've at least had a go'... Bill Paterson. Photograph: Graeme Robertson for the Guardian

Portrait of the artist: Bill Paterson, actor

This article is more than 12 years old
Interview by
'My biggest career regret? Not turning up for that interview for a part in Alien'

What got you started?

I had no desire to be an actor. But I started going along to the Citizens theatre in Glasgow in my mid-teens and got completely obsessed. I saw everything from Shakespeare to Brecht; I went so often they eventually just let me in for nothing. Later, after drifting into the building trade as a quantity surveyor, I decided to pack it in and become a drama teacher. I was asked to be in a schools' play, and the next thing I knew I was an actor.

What was your big breakthrough?

I was a founder member of the Scottish company 7:84, and in 1973 we made a show called The Cheviot, the Stag and the Black, Black Oil, about the effects of the discovery of North Sea oil on Highland life. We toured it to places few shows had ever gone to – let alone a show about crofting and oil rigs. It really affected Scottish social, political and theatrical life.

Would independence be a good thing for the arts in Scotland?

I wouldn't want to see a narrowing down into a purely Scottish view of the world. But a lot of Scottish people will say: "We'll do it much better if we're independent; we won't have to filter everything through London." It's much too big a subject to sum up in a phrase.

If you could change anything about your career, what would it be?

Maybe I should have turned up for that interview for a part in Alien. "Nobody will watch this," I thought. "And Ridley Scott won't want me anyway."

Who or what have you sacrificed for your art?

Planned holidays and the vague possibility of a company pension.

What work of art would you most like to own?

Rembrandt's Titus, the Artist's Son, in the Wallace Collection in London. It's the most beautiful painting of Rembrandt's son, who died just a few years later. It wouldn't take up a lot of room: you could almost get it off the gallery wall without them noticing.

What's the worst thing anyone ever said about you?

I used to do a lot of shows in schools. After a show in Glasgow, I was crossing the playground when a little girl came up to me and said, in this tone of disdain: "You were in that an awful lot."

What's the best advice anyone ever gave you?

When I told my folks I was giving up quantity surveying to do a course in drama teaching, they were very good about it. My dad said quietly: "Just make sure you make a go of it this time, Billy." Forty-three years later, I can say that I've at least had a go.

In short

Born: Glasgow, 1945

Career: Film and TV includes The Killing Fields, Truly, Madly, Deeply and The Singing Detective. In theatre, he has worked at the National, the Royal Court and the Almeida. Performs in And No More Shall We Part at the Hampstead Theatre, London NW3 (020-7722 9301), until 18 February.

Low point: "Leaving a theatre company in a wet wee Scottish town one Christmas and saying I wouldn't be coming back – the work was very bad. But that meant I was available for a show which turned out to be a real high."

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