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April 3, 2000
Mr. Glass Goes to Santa Cruz: A Q&A with the evocative, invisible Ira Glass
By Barbara McKenna
We've all seen them. People alone in their cars--otherwise sane-seeming men and
women--guffawing without inhibition or clutching the steering wheel and weeping uncontrollably.
It's possible those people are simply living out their solitary dramas, but it's
just as likely that they are listening to This American Life--the public
radio show produced and hosted by Ira Glass.
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Ira Glass closes Arts & Lectures' 1999-2000 season with an April 28 talk titled
"Lies, Sissies, and Fiascoes: Notes on Making a New Kind of Radio." For
tickets and information, call 831/459-2159. |
Glass will be in town for a talk, titled "Lies, Sissies, and Fiascoes: Notes
on Making a New Kind of Radio," on April 28. The talk, which he will present
at 7 and 9 p.m., in the Media Theater, is a one-time presentation, taking place exclusively
at UCSC. For tickets, call (831) 459-2159.
Glass's award-winning show centers on a different theme each week and delivers four
to five segments on that theme. The segments can be monologues, interviews, dramatic
readings, pretty much anything as long as, as Glass says, they have a "heart-gripping,
memorable quality." That quality is the show's trademark--the thing that, even
if it hasn't made longtime fans sob openly at the wheel, has caused them to be late
for appointments because they simply couldn't switch off the show when they arrived
at their destination.
This American Life premiered in Chicago in late 1995, won a Peabody Award
right off the bat, and went national the following spring. It now airs on more than
300 public radio stations (locally on KUSP 88.9 FM at 4 p.m. Friday and 7 p.m. Sunday).
Glass, 40, began his career in radio in 1978 as an intern at National Public Radio
(NPR), working for All Things Considered and Morning Edition.
In his 20 years in radio he has done everything except build them--working as a tape
cutter, newscast writer, desk assistant, editor, producer, reporter, and substitute
host. In NPR's Chicago Bureau, he created several award-winning documentaries on
public schools and race relations. In May of 1999, Rhino Records released the two-CD
set Lies, Sissies & Fiascoes: The Best of This American Life.
Q&A
Q: You use music in a way that makes it almost a second voice in the story--at
times it interjects a statement into the monologue that can convey irony, poignancy,
significance. How did you develop such exquisite timing and such a keen ear for the
right piece of music?
A: Well, I don't think of it as a second voice, but we think of it as a really
integral part of the show and the effect of the show. I've been reading the Harry
Potter books and there's an utterly gratuitous but wonderful moment --there are a
lot of those in the book, these throw-away gratuitous moments that are just wonderful.
And, anyway, in this one, Harry has just arrived at the school and is sitting in
a ceremony with his soon-to-be-friends. At the end of the ceremony they sing the
school song and the headmaster says to himself "Ah, music. A far greater magic
than anything we do here." And that's just it. Music is powerful. It makes every
thing better and creates a mood and makes it feel like things are moving forward.
Q: One of the pieces that I think works so well on your CD is "Peter
Pan," in which a guy tells the story of a director with grand ambitions. He
talks about the opening performance and the series of disasters that occur. And in
the background, Ravel's Bolero is carrying the story right along in the
most beautiful way.
A: Bolero is so fantastically corny a choice of music, we almost
didn't use it. But the producer who mixed that piece was Nancy Updike, and she's
fantastic. She felt it fit the pacing of the show so well, where the disasters
get bigger and bigger as it progresses, so we went with it.
At one point I gave a copy of the CD to Philip Glass, who is my cousin whom I had
never met. And so I gave him our CD and I said, "If you're going to listen to
one show on here, listen to this one." I thought of that because, basically,
he's in the business of theatrical production and this is a show of theatrical production
where everything goes wrong. But a day later it occurred to me what I had steered
him to. And I thought, "Oh my god, he's going to hear that and it's the corniest
piece of music in the world."
But, you know, someone once said, "Never underestimate the power of cheap music."
And it's true. You can go for the cheesiest effect and it works.
When I'm putting the music in the new stuff it always reminds me of this thing I
learned as a teenager. I learned to do magic tricks with sleight-of-hand and, when
it works, you can even do it on yourself. You can stand in front of a mirror and
make the coin disappear and it works on you. Obviously you know where it went and
what you did, but you watch yourself doing it and part of you is convinced by what
you see in the mirror. And there are a lot of times when I have that feeling about
the show. You pull a piece together and while you're in the process it doesn't sound
that remarkable, but when it's in final form, you know, like the coin in the hand,
you can fool yourself. It can appear remarkable.
Q: How many people put the show together?
A: Me and, now, four producers. For any given show one of the four will coproduce
with me and that person and I decide on all the stories and the angles.
We tend to chat about it a lot. More work goes into conceiving the show than producing
it. Once we have the stories nailed down we turn them around very fast--a day or
two. But figuring out what the story is and what you're going to go for, that takes
time.
And once a story is taped we may not use it. Often we'll go through 15 or 20 ideas
and pay somebody to write and gather tape and, when we're finished, several of them
may not make the cut. Some things you've just got to try to see if there's a story
there.
The very best stuff comes from chance and luck and so we try and create a context
where chance and luck can strike every week. You'll hit gold more often if you simply
try out a lot of things. Very few organizations work that way. Maybe the New York
Times or the New Yorker, they're among the few that commission a lot more
work than you ultimately see in the magazine.
When I worked at All Things Considered if I was assigned a story and
I was told that story would be on tonight and be four-and-a-half minutes long, then
it would be on that night and it would be four-and-a-half minutes long. Having the
luxury to think things through with people is idyllic--it's what every person on
a daily show dreams of.
Q: Even with a week to produce each show, your job is not exactly low-key.
How do you live with the intensity of this job? Can you live a normal life?
A: Oh yes. But it still feels new to me and I still feel like I haven't quite
mastered it. Every week is just as frightening as the week before. Sometimes it takes
me a full day to achieve a normal level of tension. You know what I mean?
We send the show out on satellite on Friday and usually Saturday is completely shot
for me. I didn't even realize this until recently because I've been seeing someone
and it's become an issue. It's like I'm still coming down off drugs on Saturday.
This happens to a lot of people in broadcasting.
Q: It's an intense process, producing the show, isn't it? But you always sound
so relaxed and engaged when you're on the air. How do you manage that?
A: One of the things that's peculiar about radio is the public performance
aspect of it. You have to seem really relaxed or it doesn't work right. Right before
the show, what we're doing is scrambling around and changing little things: rewriting
introductions and retiming the show from that point, and it's really frantic. And
the second the mike goes on, I have to be like, okay, we're just chatting. So, what
I do is pretend I'm talking to exactly one person.
Q: What makes a segment work for you. What's the difference between the one
that airs and the one that hits the cutting-room floor?
A: There's a lot of really competent material that we generate on the show
that would be okay but it doesn't have the heart-gripping memorable quality that
makes you stop and makes you remember later and surprises you.
Stories that we are looking for are ones we feel thrilled about putting on the radio.
The structure is to have these be surprising stories with surprising voices. You
know, I mean, mediocrity is a powerful force. The entire machine of the show, the
production, is designed about making luck happen. When it works, you know it, because
it's really different. You say, "I've never heard that before and I'm so glad
to hear it." That's what we're aiming for.
Q: You have an amazing talent for interviewing. People open up and reveal
themselves and express profound ideas in a really astonishing way in your interviews.
What is the most important skill you have as an interviewer?
A: I get asked a lot what's the greatest secret to interviewing and the big
secret is to be actually curious. I think when somebody is talking about the thing
that means most to them in the world or a question that's unresolved in their head
they are articulate. Americans, as a people, are stunningly open. It's not like traveling
in France or Germany. People here will actually tell you what they think and they
won't hold back. They're funny and smart and articulate in every walk of life. I'm
never surprised about that.
For me, it isn't the question of, can this person step up to the plate, but, what
do they care about that I can ask something about. If I can find the thing they care
about or that is unresolved in their head, then they'll have something to say.
Terry Gross [producer of NPR's Fresh Air] said the thing about being
an interviewer that's odd is you have to simultaneously be the person's therapist
and friend, encouraging them to open up and share, and still be a ruthless editor,
thinking, "This isn't working, where can I take it now."
Q: Many of the stories on This American Life have stayed with
me, have even haunted me. Are there any that have done that to you over the years?
A: The one that haunted me the most is the story about this woman named Dorothy
Gaines who was thrown into prison for 19 years. We came across her story while working
on a show about changes in U.S. sentencing laws. That sounds like it would be an
unbelievably dull issue, but we try not to be knee-jerk about these problems and
be precise and still tell the thing through novelistic stories.
So, we told the story of this woman who got 19 years. She was thrown in prison based
on the testimony of people who admitted to being a part of a drug ring and could
get their time reduced by naming other people. She was a working nurse with two kids.
The police searched her house and found no evidence of drugs. In court everyone else
copped a plea and got a year. She didn't cop a plea. She and her public defender
said she's innocent, there is no evidence of guilt, so why cop a plea? She was found
guilty and sentenced to 19 years. That's the same amount of time she would have gotten
if she had hijacked a plane. It's more than she would have gotten for second-degree
murder or rape. And so she's doing this time and really her only chance is that she
would get a presidential pardon.
I really feel like we didn't do enough for her. I feel like I should be devoting
more time to her. Doing something. I wish I could say that that happens more often,
that we can do something. But the fact is, I'm in the situation where every week
I'm so busy and scared that I'm going to put together a nice show that there's not
even time to feel wistful about the show or the story from the week before.
Q: Who would you like to have interview you?
A: Terry Gross. I actually was interviewed by Terry Gross once, more than
a year ago, and it was utterly distracting. You know, because I know Terry and we've
met and we'll talk every now and then. The public radio world is pretty small. And
then she's interviewing me and, how to say this, I felt really self-conscious to
be talking about myself and I wanted to be a good interviewee and give to her what
I ask other people to give to me. So I tried to be honest. And right in the middle
of a lot of my answers, I would begin to think, "Why am I here talking about
this?" That was the main thing that was odd. I don't exactly see why someone
would be interested in me. From an analytical point of view, I understand that I
do a radio show and I am a public figure so people might have a mild curiosity about
why I do the show and who I am. So, from a personal point of view, that was the most
uncomfortable thing.
She is an exceptional interviewer. She is the queen. There were certain things that
people asked me about in every other interview I'd had recently that she came about
in the slyest damn way. And it would take me a moment to answer because I was struck
by the skillfulness of the way she was approaching the subject--the sheer craft of
it was so beautiful. I don't know, it was like watching Michael Jordan.
Q: Can you think of a specific example?
A: One of the questions that came up a lot, that had been written about the
show, was how many hours I work on it, and the fact that I work on it all the time.
To me it's not remarkable, it's like anybody starting a new business, I don't view
that as strange. But in every article for a while that would be a big big part of
the story. She brought up the subject by saying something like, "A lot has
been written about how many hours you put in working on your job. What's the thing
you miss most from regular life?" Which is such a graceful way of documenting
who this person is and capturing what their life is like for the audience without
having me repeat everything that's already been written, because that's not moving
the story forward.
I have to say, when she asked it, it took me a moment to even think of my answer
because I was so struck with the question. I was realizing, she wants to document
that part of my life but doesn't want to talk about it because it's stupid. So here's
what she asks instead, which gets me reflecting on this experience and, in a certain
way, more wistfully, gets me reflecting with emotion. For me, someone who does three
or four interviews a week, I don't think I step up to that standard.
Q: You met with executives from several major networks last summer to discuss
taking this show to a TV format. What's the status of that project?
A: We got very very generous and appropriate offers from two television networks
and my staff and I met and decided we didn't want to commit ourselves to doing a
series because we didn't want to stop doing radio. But we might do a special. We'll
return to that idea at some point.
It amuses me, the idea of doing a TV show. It would be interesting to see how it
would work out. But I feel nothing lacking from radio. Its true power is so rarely
used that simply by trying to tell the stories we tell in the novelistic way that
we do seems really unusual. Because we simply try to harness the power of radio,
I feel like our show really stands out.
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