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A TICKET TO FOREVER: AN INTERVIEW WITH ACTOR ARMEN GARO
Frank Nahigian
Armenian Weekly
Wed, May 12 2010
We live as long as we can and then we die. For some people, that's
not good enough and they try to do better. Armen Garo is that
kind of person. He was born and raised in upstate New York where
he attended public schools. His behavior was, suffice it to say,
somewhat less than perfect; the hallways just outside his classrooms
(the forerunner of quiet time rooms) and the principal's office
were familiar surroundings. He always had a nagging feeling that he
didn't quite fit in. Because of behavioral issues, his parents-father
(Vahan Harmaian), born in Istanbul, and his mom (Macrouhi Tavanian), a
first-generation American-took him out of the public school system and
sent him to Albany (military) Academy to have some formal discipline
drummed into him before he was drummed out of life. The regimentation
process eventually worked. Despite the boy's intuitive inclination
to deviate from some accepted norms, the man finally adjusted and
wound up attending Emerson College in Boston, graduating magna cum
laude in 1977 and participating in enough extracurricular activities
to be listed in the Who's Who in American Colleges and Universities.
In 1978, he was named the New England heavyweight kickboxing champion
and competed in karate to the point where, by 1982, he had been
ranked among the top karate fighters in the world for three years by
the Professional Karate Association. But then he decided this wasn't
something he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He decided to try
his hand at law enforcement, so he joined the East Providence (R.I.)
Police Department in 1985. "It was a perfect match of my abilities
and the job's requirements at the time," he says. "I loved it but I
never could have predicted that." He rose through the ranks while also
acquiring his B.S. and M.S. degrees in criminal justice disciplines.
Do you see a trend here?
While at Emerson he dabbled in theatre arts and nurtured that interest
throughout. No grass growing under this guy's feet. In 1983, he
began a career in film by working with William Conrad in the American
Playhouse production of "The Great Whodunnit," in which he played a
police officer. Usually, art mimics life; in Armen Garo's case, life
mimicked art. And sometimes, art doesn't mimic life, as witnessed
by his portrayal of a corrupt Providence police officer in "Federal
Hill," a critically acclaimed crime film set in the smallest state's
biggest city. He has too large a body of film and theatre to mention
individually, but he played a Providence gangster in "The Departed,"
which exposed him first hand to the professionalism of Leonardo
DiCaprio, Matt Damon, and, of course Martin Scorsese, and he feels he
learned and benefited greatly by the experience. You could have also
seen him in TV commercials he's done for AT&T, Cingular, Nike, GEICO,
and Miller Lite. I'm wondering if a little bit of his wild side is
paying off better than the disciplined side does. (Just kidding.)
But his total "acting" earnings between 1983 and 2005 were $2,500,
and one of the main reasons for the shortfall was because he's
instinctively an artistic animal, not an economic one. Hard to
believe, but his career is the documentation. I got the impression
that acting is how he has chosen to find expression and represent
himself to the world. He said he acts for the love of it, not for
the money. Believing that requires a leap of faith. But we discussed
it and he convinced me-and he wasn't acting. "If you do what you
love, you'll never be working. I believe in doing what you love to
do. This is what I happen to love to do." He finds happiness by doing
meaningful work. The concept is simple; the application in current
society is rare and, consequently, challenging to accept. Artists
are different and Armen Garo's an artist. "But, hey," he reminds me,
"we all have to eat and provide."
"My parents always drilled in me that no matter what you do, do it
the best that you can, and do it as honestly and as forthrightly as
possible. Not to cheat, not to take unfair advantage, and to pursue
everything that you do that way. And the Academy that I attended
drilled that in me. My parents were heavily influential in the way I
do things. Maybe not in the specific fields that I've engaged myself
in, but certainly in the manner in which I conduct myself," he says.
So those were the primary lessons that they passed down to you? "Well,
I ignored the primary lesson, which was to find a nice Armenian girl.
I completely ignored that. Completely. Like an idiot. I married and
divorced three times, and never to an Armenian. That's how much I
liked it. I liked marriage so much I did it three times. I enjoyed
divorce even more, so I did that three times, too." No children,
thank goodness; if there had been, I may have had to write a book or
seek therapy. Happily for his parents' memory, he's now dating a nice,
attractive Armenian girl, a "Parskahye" on whom he's quite sweet. "My
parents would've really loved her, Seda Azarian. She appeared in
the world premier of "Avida" on Broadway, in the chorus, and she's
appeared in other Broadway musicals. She's the director of training
for a health and beauty company named Repechage." (I hope she feels
the same, and would bet that way if this were a Las Vegas story.)
In view of his youth, I asked him what life or career message he
would give an audience of eight graders if he were addressing them
today. "I would tell them to concentrate on what they're doing,
listen to their parents and their teachers...develop as many skills
as possible while still in school, experience everything that the
school and athletic program have to offer so that at some point in
your life you can make an informed choice about what you want to do,
but that no matter what you do, always do the best you can at it, and
make sure that you do something that you love to do because if you're
doing something that you love, you'll never feel like you're working."
Those were the messages his Dad gave him repeatedly as, perhaps, most
Dads should, and his Mom constantly validated them. What about the
message of doing something you love? "That's something else I remind
young people of. Follow your dreams. Never forget them. I didn't
really latch on to that until later on in life because I was always
somebody who, well...I was a typical kid...I wanted a car...I want
to be able to do 'this'...I want to do 'that'...I wanted to have some
money...I have to get another job to get more money...I've gotta work
some overtime...and, at some point, much later, maybe just a few years
ago, I said, You know what? Screw that. I'm going to do something I
really want to do. I'm going to do 'this' and only 'this,' and that's
what I'm going to do. And that was in 2004. You see, many years ago I
had a dream. I never forgot that dream. So I finally pursued it and
will continue to do so until I die. Why? Because you have to follow
your dreams. No one will do it for you. No one. If you don't, they'll
forever remain just dreams and you'll never know what you could have
done. If you're lucky you'll end up in a nursing home waiting to die
while being fed, cleaned, and barked at by some total stranger. If
you're fortunate enough to still have a memory, you'll be lying there
on your own bed sores wondering what you could have accomplished if
you had just followed your dreams and tried the best you could. That's
not for me. I'd rather die right now. Everyone wants you to fit in.
Nice and neat. Don't rock the boat. No fuss, no muss. Right! That's
BS. If you follow your dreams, you can at least have the settling
feeling that you tried and you can live out your days in peace, no
matter what your final circumstances may be. I've seen too much of
the evil people are capable of to care whether or not I fit in. I've
seen it firsthand. Look what we've come to. Elected officials making a
career of living off the public's largesse, religious leaders sexually
preying upon children, cops dealing drugs, major financial institutions
fleecing the public's trust while bilking people out of their savings,
investments, homes, and jobs. And I'm not even mentioning the foreign
and domestic misfits that are hell-bent on committing despicable acts
of violence upon people in this country.
Our guide posts are rotting from within. Too many of us just look
the other way or are too busy in their own denial. Each of us has
an obligation to denounce and do something to deter that kind of
behavior. I'm glad I don't fit in. Life is much too short not to make
a real effort in something that matters to you."
One of the activities Armen Garo elected to take up partly as a result
of the foregoing adjustment was to serve as the honorary chairman of
the Rhode Island chapter of the Make A Wish Foundation, and Garo's now
an Ambassador for Life of the organization, helping to raise money
to finance the wishes of children suffering from life-threatening
illnesses. "Look," he says, "it's what being successful is all about.
I feel blessed that I've been so fortunate. I'd be remiss if I
didn't try to parlay that success into helping those less fortunate
by making charitable public appearances, donating time for a cause,
and so forth. Otherwise, what's the point, other than to feed a
narcissistic appetite? I'm not that myopic."
We ended the interview and began discussing the tradeoffs revolving
around being a motion-picture actor. Garo liked the fact that, unlike
in boxing or other sport, he can work no matter his age because there
are always roles for the middle-aged and elderly, if one's able.
Perhaps more important, the evidence of his work and skill are recorded
on film, according him immortality. It pleases him that his legacy
may be a living one rather than just ashes or cash. He may have been
a naughty child, but he's a responsible, caring, productive adult.
Frank Nahigian
Armenian Weekly
Wed, May 12 2010
We live as long as we can and then we die. For some people, that's
not good enough and they try to do better. Armen Garo is that
kind of person. He was born and raised in upstate New York where
he attended public schools. His behavior was, suffice it to say,
somewhat less than perfect; the hallways just outside his classrooms
(the forerunner of quiet time rooms) and the principal's office
were familiar surroundings. He always had a nagging feeling that he
didn't quite fit in. Because of behavioral issues, his parents-father
(Vahan Harmaian), born in Istanbul, and his mom (Macrouhi Tavanian), a
first-generation American-took him out of the public school system and
sent him to Albany (military) Academy to have some formal discipline
drummed into him before he was drummed out of life. The regimentation
process eventually worked. Despite the boy's intuitive inclination
to deviate from some accepted norms, the man finally adjusted and
wound up attending Emerson College in Boston, graduating magna cum
laude in 1977 and participating in enough extracurricular activities
to be listed in the Who's Who in American Colleges and Universities.
In 1978, he was named the New England heavyweight kickboxing champion
and competed in karate to the point where, by 1982, he had been
ranked among the top karate fighters in the world for three years by
the Professional Karate Association. But then he decided this wasn't
something he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He decided to try
his hand at law enforcement, so he joined the East Providence (R.I.)
Police Department in 1985. "It was a perfect match of my abilities
and the job's requirements at the time," he says. "I loved it but I
never could have predicted that." He rose through the ranks while also
acquiring his B.S. and M.S. degrees in criminal justice disciplines.
Do you see a trend here?
While at Emerson he dabbled in theatre arts and nurtured that interest
throughout. No grass growing under this guy's feet. In 1983, he
began a career in film by working with William Conrad in the American
Playhouse production of "The Great Whodunnit," in which he played a
police officer. Usually, art mimics life; in Armen Garo's case, life
mimicked art. And sometimes, art doesn't mimic life, as witnessed
by his portrayal of a corrupt Providence police officer in "Federal
Hill," a critically acclaimed crime film set in the smallest state's
biggest city. He has too large a body of film and theatre to mention
individually, but he played a Providence gangster in "The Departed,"
which exposed him first hand to the professionalism of Leonardo
DiCaprio, Matt Damon, and, of course Martin Scorsese, and he feels he
learned and benefited greatly by the experience. You could have also
seen him in TV commercials he's done for AT&T, Cingular, Nike, GEICO,
and Miller Lite. I'm wondering if a little bit of his wild side is
paying off better than the disciplined side does. (Just kidding.)
But his total "acting" earnings between 1983 and 2005 were $2,500,
and one of the main reasons for the shortfall was because he's
instinctively an artistic animal, not an economic one. Hard to
believe, but his career is the documentation. I got the impression
that acting is how he has chosen to find expression and represent
himself to the world. He said he acts for the love of it, not for
the money. Believing that requires a leap of faith. But we discussed
it and he convinced me-and he wasn't acting. "If you do what you
love, you'll never be working. I believe in doing what you love to
do. This is what I happen to love to do." He finds happiness by doing
meaningful work. The concept is simple; the application in current
society is rare and, consequently, challenging to accept. Artists
are different and Armen Garo's an artist. "But, hey," he reminds me,
"we all have to eat and provide."
"My parents always drilled in me that no matter what you do, do it
the best that you can, and do it as honestly and as forthrightly as
possible. Not to cheat, not to take unfair advantage, and to pursue
everything that you do that way. And the Academy that I attended
drilled that in me. My parents were heavily influential in the way I
do things. Maybe not in the specific fields that I've engaged myself
in, but certainly in the manner in which I conduct myself," he says.
So those were the primary lessons that they passed down to you? "Well,
I ignored the primary lesson, which was to find a nice Armenian girl.
I completely ignored that. Completely. Like an idiot. I married and
divorced three times, and never to an Armenian. That's how much I
liked it. I liked marriage so much I did it three times. I enjoyed
divorce even more, so I did that three times, too." No children,
thank goodness; if there had been, I may have had to write a book or
seek therapy. Happily for his parents' memory, he's now dating a nice,
attractive Armenian girl, a "Parskahye" on whom he's quite sweet. "My
parents would've really loved her, Seda Azarian. She appeared in
the world premier of "Avida" on Broadway, in the chorus, and she's
appeared in other Broadway musicals. She's the director of training
for a health and beauty company named Repechage." (I hope she feels
the same, and would bet that way if this were a Las Vegas story.)
In view of his youth, I asked him what life or career message he
would give an audience of eight graders if he were addressing them
today. "I would tell them to concentrate on what they're doing,
listen to their parents and their teachers...develop as many skills
as possible while still in school, experience everything that the
school and athletic program have to offer so that at some point in
your life you can make an informed choice about what you want to do,
but that no matter what you do, always do the best you can at it, and
make sure that you do something that you love to do because if you're
doing something that you love, you'll never feel like you're working."
Those were the messages his Dad gave him repeatedly as, perhaps, most
Dads should, and his Mom constantly validated them. What about the
message of doing something you love? "That's something else I remind
young people of. Follow your dreams. Never forget them. I didn't
really latch on to that until later on in life because I was always
somebody who, well...I was a typical kid...I wanted a car...I want
to be able to do 'this'...I want to do 'that'...I wanted to have some
money...I have to get another job to get more money...I've gotta work
some overtime...and, at some point, much later, maybe just a few years
ago, I said, You know what? Screw that. I'm going to do something I
really want to do. I'm going to do 'this' and only 'this,' and that's
what I'm going to do. And that was in 2004. You see, many years ago I
had a dream. I never forgot that dream. So I finally pursued it and
will continue to do so until I die. Why? Because you have to follow
your dreams. No one will do it for you. No one. If you don't, they'll
forever remain just dreams and you'll never know what you could have
done. If you're lucky you'll end up in a nursing home waiting to die
while being fed, cleaned, and barked at by some total stranger. If
you're fortunate enough to still have a memory, you'll be lying there
on your own bed sores wondering what you could have accomplished if
you had just followed your dreams and tried the best you could. That's
not for me. I'd rather die right now. Everyone wants you to fit in.
Nice and neat. Don't rock the boat. No fuss, no muss. Right! That's
BS. If you follow your dreams, you can at least have the settling
feeling that you tried and you can live out your days in peace, no
matter what your final circumstances may be. I've seen too much of
the evil people are capable of to care whether or not I fit in. I've
seen it firsthand. Look what we've come to. Elected officials making a
career of living off the public's largesse, religious leaders sexually
preying upon children, cops dealing drugs, major financial institutions
fleecing the public's trust while bilking people out of their savings,
investments, homes, and jobs. And I'm not even mentioning the foreign
and domestic misfits that are hell-bent on committing despicable acts
of violence upon people in this country.
Our guide posts are rotting from within. Too many of us just look
the other way or are too busy in their own denial. Each of us has
an obligation to denounce and do something to deter that kind of
behavior. I'm glad I don't fit in. Life is much too short not to make
a real effort in something that matters to you."
One of the activities Armen Garo elected to take up partly as a result
of the foregoing adjustment was to serve as the honorary chairman of
the Rhode Island chapter of the Make A Wish Foundation, and Garo's now
an Ambassador for Life of the organization, helping to raise money
to finance the wishes of children suffering from life-threatening
illnesses. "Look," he says, "it's what being successful is all about.
I feel blessed that I've been so fortunate. I'd be remiss if I
didn't try to parlay that success into helping those less fortunate
by making charitable public appearances, donating time for a cause,
and so forth. Otherwise, what's the point, other than to feed a
narcissistic appetite? I'm not that myopic."
We ended the interview and began discussing the tradeoffs revolving
around being a motion-picture actor. Garo liked the fact that, unlike
in boxing or other sport, he can work no matter his age because there
are always roles for the middle-aged and elderly, if one's able.
Perhaps more important, the evidence of his work and skill are recorded
on film, according him immortality. It pleases him that his legacy
may be a living one rather than just ashes or cash. He may have been
a naughty child, but he's a responsible, caring, productive adult.