By Robert K. Elder

Sheldon Patinkin sits at his desk, surrounded by … nothing.

There’s still tape up on the walls, the ghosts of picture frames whose outlines were burned onto the walls over the decades. After 29 years, Patinkin—a founding “uncle” of the Second City and an icon of Chicago theater—is stepping down from his post as chair of Columbia’s Theater department. I sat down with him in May, as movers made way for his successor, and listened as the arts guru reflected on his legacy.

Robert Elder: You’ve worked in Hollywood, in New York doing SCTV, but you’ve said, “What I love most is working and teaching these students.” Why?

Sheldon Patinkin: Well, I’ve done all the others and this is the only one where I feel I am accomplishing something beyond myself. I like to be at the beginnings of people’s careers, which is what Second City is too. [Students are] also easier to work with. I will, for instance, never again direct a Second City show, ever … I just don’t need all that aggravation anymore. I’m 73 going on 74, and I don’t need it anymore.

When I direct around town these days, I almost invariably direct in storefront theaters, mostly non Equity theaters. My contract has been a steak dinner and a bottle of Dewar’s scotch. I don’t need their money and I’d rather that the money that they were paying me went into production values.

Elder: You’ve seen a lot of talent come through Second City. Who did you know instantly was going to be a big talent?

Patinkin: Fred Willard. One of the funniest people I’ve ever met in my life. John Candy. Even though he was not all that good at the beginning, it was clear he was going to be. I was fascinated by Bill Murray. I wasn’t part of Second City then. It was my years in between, but I saw every show in Chicago. And I thought he was just fascinating. He used to just stand at the back of the stage with a cigarette and a cup of coffee, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Belushi! Everybody knew Belushi was going to go somewhere. It’s interesting I said Fred first, isn’t it? Fred has been able to make me laugh anytime he wanted to for as long as I’ve known him.

Elder: But you’re still teaching, after a sabbatical. What will the sabbatical allow you to do?

Patinkin: Writing. I have two things that I started on … both of which I want to work on during this year. Many years ago, I was the director of the single most disastrous experience of my life. And as part of the emotional turmoil I was in, I wrote a murder mystery where I killed off everybody I was pissed off at, and I put it away. I went back and discovered that although the writing sucks, the story works. So during sabbatical, I’m going to rewrite it because it’s a pretty good murder mystery.

The other thing is, I want to write a memoir of playwrights and the early days of Second City.

Elder: A Sheldonism I’ve heard is: “Better an asshole than a chickenshit.” Please explain.

Patinkin: Take risks. Be willing to be wrong. If you don’t take chances, if you don’t go with what occurs to you … Well, by all accounts, don’t censor yourself. Whatever comes out, try it. If you push it back because you think it might not work, you’ll never know whether it works or not. Therefore, better an asshole than a chickenshit.

Elder: And how does that apply to your career?

Patinkin: I have been an asshole all my life. I’ve never said that before, but it’s absolutely true. That means I have taken chances, taken risks, moved on …

Elder: You’re also plain spoken. That’s the other thing I hear; “He speaks his mind,” which sometimes is not popular with students.

Patinkin: Tough shit. I try and start with what I like. I don’t mince words. I don’t have time for that. I don’t think anybody else does either. Anyway, I come from a really tough neighborhood on the Southwest Side if Chicago, Englewood.

Elder: Why have you always come back to Chicago?

Patinkin: Because you can fail and still find work. Because Chicago is basically ensemble oriented. Because my family, for the most part, is here. Because I grew up here and love this city. I lived in New York for six years and Toronto for four and missed Chicago the whole time.

Elder:  Do you have a proudest achievement?

Patinkin: This place—this department. I’m very proud of the department. I have no regrets. I have done it enough. It’s time for me to move on, and it’s time for the department to move on.

John Green succeeds Sheldon Patinkin as chair of Columbia’s Theater department beginning this fall.