Radio host, cartoonist pair up for storytelling at Royce

Sometimes it takes very little to reinvigorate a dying art form.
At a time when public radio trails even network television in terms
of innovation, it may come as a surprise that one of National
Public Radio’s most creative programs has risen to the top
just by keeping it simple.

Very simple, in fact. Radio host Ira Glass’ “This
American Life” engages its audience of 1.4 million with
stories too small-scale for mainstream media. Glass can devote a
segment of his hour-long show to a story of two cops upending a
couple’s house in search of an elusive squirrel, or air an
interview with a woman responsible for filling the vending machines
on an aircraft carrier. Add the occasional short story or David
Sedaris reading, all linked to the particular episode’s
unifying theme, and suddenly the lower end of the FM dial
isn’t just for latte drinkers and Whole Foods patrons
anymore.

With its uniquely charming allure, Glass’ quirky weekly
show, which airs on over 400 public radio stations including Los
Los Angeles’ own KCRW, can only be fully appreciated within the
confines of its own medium. It’s this attention to form that
may be the motivation behind UCLA Live’s latest commissioned
event involving Glass and comic artist Chris Ware. The two friends
will present a story at Royce Hall on April 10, with Glass telling
the story alongside Ware’s visual accompaniments.

“There’s something about cartooning itself that has
a lot in common with radio,” Glass said. “Although it
seems to have a leisurely pace ““ to tell a story on the radio
or in a cartoon ““ you really are parsing out time.”

There’s a lot of truth to that statement ““ much of
the emotional heft behind both “This American Life” and
Ware’s comic art depend on impeccable timing, and both of
their mediums are especially conducive to communicating these
subtleties.

For Glass, the perfect pause or musical interlude may come after
a weighty rumination that just needs to sit.

For Ware’s pathetic and grief-stricken characters, like
the subject of his acclaimed book “Jimmy Corrigan: The
Smartest Kid on Earth,” the panels that show Jimmy thinking
or turning his head are just as important as the panels that
feature text. If anything, Glass and Ware have garnered national
attention due to their keen awareness of their respective
medium’s unique freedoms as well as limitations.

For Glass, who has played the role of a newscast writer, desk
assistant, editor and producer at NPR’s Washington, D.C.
headquarters since 1978, the concept of “This American
Life” elevates his craft to something more creatively
liberating than journalism. It may even be fair to say that the
stories’ content doesn’t make the show, but their
inherent ability to adapt to the radio format does.

“Everything has to be done in very fast, broad strokes,
even if it is a very long story, or a very complicated story, which
we do a lot of,” he said. “Every gesture has to be
cleanly and quickly done.”

Glass still needs some of the traditional
journalists’ most valuable assets, like a natural
inquisitiveness that lights up when a story fit for the show comes
into view. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need the
help. He’s ready and willing to admit that the upcoming UCLA
Live collaboration has opened his eyes to the value of an art form
that he never quite understood before ““ architecture.

The story created for the Royce event, which revolves around one
boy’s lifelong obsession with old Louis Sullivan buildings
around Chicago’s suburban neighborhoods, will be accompanied
by Ware’s pristine renderings projected as 40-foot monuments
on the Royce Hall stage. The collaboration is just one example of
how easily Glass can conjure up a giddy excitement for things
even he never thought he could enjoy.

“The way people talk about architecture, they have an air
of preciousness and artsyness about them in this way that makes you
want to throttle them,” he said.

“(But) I’m actually having a feeling experience
now “¦ Some buildings seem perfectly happy to be there and
just sit there as buildings. They are for our service, whereas
other buildings think they’re a little better than us,
actually. I’m noticing all of that now, in exactly the way
that the people who made the buildings intended, and appreciate
(this feeling) very, very much.”