Actor, Writer, Director – Alan Alda: Things I Overheard, M*A*S*H, The West Wing

Alan Alda played Hawkeye Pierce for eleven years in the television series M*A*S*H and he has acted in, written, and directed many feature films. He has starred often on Broadway, and his avid interest in science has led to his hosting PBS’s Scientific American Frontiers for eleven years. He was nominated for an Academy Award in 2005 and has been nominated for thirty-two Emmy Awards (winning five). His new book, Things I Overheard While Talking to Myself was recently released by Random House Publishers. He is married to the children’s book author and photographer Arlene Alda. They have three grown children and seven grandchildren.

Interviewed by Kipley Wentz

In your previous book, you advised us never to have our dogs stuffed. As you read over a few decades’ worth of speeches for Things I Overheard While Talking To Myself, could you identify any recurring themes, or concerns that you’ve had throughout your life?

In the first book I looked back over my life and saw it as the story of a boy who was trying to learn how to live spontaneously, both as an actor and as a person. That was what not “stuffing the dog” meant to me: I realized early on that I couldn’t rigidly hold things in place in a world of constant change. It was better to live moment to moment — on stage or off. In the second book I was trying to figure out the meaning of my life – what would give me a lasting sense of satisfaction? And things I learned on the stage, like the importance of knowing my action, listening – and staying in the now – gave me ways to find that meaning.

It seems that following your curiosity has been a wise choice. In your opinion, what role has your curiosity played in your success as an artist?

I think curiosity can be a form of creativity. What would this be like if you turned it on its head? What if the ending came first? What if you started with this apparently irrelevant image? Curiosity leads to experimentation and play. I can’t imagine being an artist without loving that kind of play.

While self-deprecating, you also seem like a very self-assured person. Did you ever struggle with insecurities before you were a well-established artist? Do you still?

You have to be pretty sure of yourself to say something self-deprecating, because there’s always the danger people will agree with you. I think most people have insecurities when they start out, and I had to gain confidence through experience. But, now, I consciously put myself in insecure positions. I scare myself whenever I can. When I read a script and wonder how I could possibly play this part, that’s when I know I’ll have a chance to be original in it. If I thought, “I know how to do this,” I’d probably do it the way I’d done something else, or the way I’d seen someone else do it. I’m starting out on new territory and I like the adventure. But it does scare me.

In your opinion, which of your qualities have led to success in a field where so many give up in frustration?

I really don’t know. Maybe these things have helped:

-I don’t easily give up. I worry less about rejection and concentrate on surviving.

-I’m flexible. I decided a while ago to work hard at getting what I want, and then to want what I actually get.

-I keep score my way. Being famous and staying famous doesn’t have anywhere near the appeal for me that getting better at my work does. I can be just as happy working in a 400 seat house as in front of millions if the work is good.

-I make the most of every opportunity I get. I find people who can teach me how to get better.

-And maybe most important – the element without which none of the above means much: I’ve been very lucky.

Many aspiring actors equate wealth and fame with success. As someone who has achieved not just wealth and fame, but has also built an amazing body of work, had a loving family, and just generally squeezed a whole lot of juice from life… how do you evaluate success?

It’s hard to put this in one sentence, especially because I took me a whole book to answer this question, but I guess the short answer is to be aware of my life as it happens, however it happens to turn out. Success or not, if I don’t notice my life, what good is it?

For aspiring actors, do you have any thoughts on what goals may lead to a productive and “successful” career?

Love getting better more than you love getting praise. Know what you believe in and try to stick to it.

You grew up surrounded by strippers and comedians. I can’t speak for what you may have learned from strippers, but you are very funny. Is comedy something one can learn, or is one of those “you’ve got it or you don’t” things?

Steve Allen used to make a distinction between performers who said funny things and those who said things funny. Saying things funny may be a special gift.

Listening to you recount the story of this book at Book Expo America, you clearly held the audience captivated. What is the thrill of communication for you? Why do you think you strive so hard to understand and explain what you’ve learned?

I think that just talking with other people – about anything – is part of the fun of being human. Trying to say something that’s meaningful and that maybe hits home in some way is a kind of serious fun. I think writers are all trying to put into words something that pretty much can’t be put into words. For a writer who’s also an actor, it’s fun to do it out loud.

You’ve both served in the Army and, as a well-known artist, protested the build up of nuclear arms. What would you advise an artist who is concerned about the “global war on terror” and wishes to do something? In your opinion, what is the role of the artist in a time of war?

I think writers, like the rest of us, have to follow their conscience. When I was young, I marched in the street. I don’t march anymore and I don’t talk in public about politics. I try to concentrate on making a contribution through my work. But, that doesn’t mean I try to promote political ideas with my work. For me, propaganda is bad art. I don’t even like writing that has a message of some kind. For me, in peace or war, the best work we can do is to help our audience feel a shared sense of humanity through our writing. Not through a message or precept, but through a moving experience.

Is there anything you wish you’d said along the way that you haven’t?

I don’t think so. I talk a lot.

You were recently nominated for an Oscar, a Tony, and an Emmy, and you published a best selling book, all in the same year. How do you sustain that level of activity, and what do you have planned for the near future?