Pradit Prasartthong A Silpathorn Award winner for his contributions to the performing arts, Pradit, 47, is an actor, secretary of the Makhampom Foundation and president of the Bangkok Theater Network.

I totally believe that the art of theater can change society. Or else, I wouldn’t be here today, after 20 years of doing this. Even though the changes we produce come slowly, they are long-lasting.

Theater encourages you to think out of the box and not just the way television wants you to. Once you open up to it, you can’t stop thinking. And this makes our world more diverse. We don’t all have to be mainstream.

I also believe that theater helps nourish—even if this might sound excessive—palang tang punya ("the power of wisdom"). This is the thing art can give you. Most people never wonder where philosophy and beauty lie.

Theater isn’t as difficult as people might think. It’s all about humans, about trying to understand what we are.

When I managed the first Bangkok Theater Festival, for the first time in my life I wished I was wealthy. Finding people to do it, booking the venues, setting it all up and so forth was exhausting as it was. But not having enough money to do everything made me really upset.

Fortunately, we got a sponsor just a few days before the event. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it helped keep the festival going.

If you want to do something, try your best and be truthful to it. There must be someone out there who will appreciate your efforts and your dedication.

I was discouraged because I used to compare theater with other forms of entertainment. I expected a concert hall atmosphere for my show, so when only seven people showed up, I felt like I had failed.

Theater is a community level media. It attracts only a certain group of people, just like golf or chess. You can’t expect the masses to welcome your work like they do with Bird Thongchai’s songs. If you understand the nature of what you’re doing, and walk along at its rhythm, then you won’t expect the impossible and you won’t get hurt.

I’m concerned about people’s perception of theater. Especially when the media don’t understand us.

Some journalists think theater is something like a Broadway production. If you produce a smaller-scale play, in a smaller venue, don’t have singing or big name actors, then they assume it’s not a quality play.

I never said that what my group and I are doing is the best in town. People have different tastes and skills. And I love variety.

I enjoy every type of performance, from the ones with expensive tickets to street-side shows, from classic to contemporary. I like mor lum, too. Even though I don’t understand what they sing, I feel the music’s power.

I enjoy watching an audience’s reactions. It’s the same as watching soccer: it’s exciting when crowds cheer, sing or dance.

I often turn down large-scale productions, especially the ones with famous actors. It’s not easy to find an actor who loves acting more than himself or herself. Most are concerned with their image above all else. They only judge a role by its ability to increase their fame, not by their own ability to portray a character.

I’m not going to get a TV job—I did it—but now I know what my passion is. I love performances that don’t have a screen and a camera wedged in between the performers and the audience.

I’m old. I don’t want to waste my time with things I don’t love.

If you want to know what Thai dramas were like 30 years ago, switch on your TV. They’ve changed the costumes, but the dialogue, the acting and the plot are the same.

There’s a phenomenon that happened once in Thai TV and then never again, when Sodsai Bhuntumkomol directed Phan Mah Ba on Channel 3. It was a tragedy and there wasn’t a single moment when the hero felt happy—everything was dark and sad. But the drama was hugely popular throughout the country.

Phan Mah Ba proves that quality TV drama can survive, or even be popular. Don’t blame the audience for liking nothing but soap operas.

When I went to big cities like Tokyo or Chicago, I was happy to see so many alternative theaters. I believe that if we support the smaller troupes, instead of pouring all the money into one big production, our art scene will be richer for it.