proud to be gaiety

After attending the KCACTF conference in early 2025, I received an offer to join the ISTP program at the Gaiety School of Acting in Dublin, Ireland. This truly fell into my lap out of nowhere, and turned out to be one of my favorite creative experiences of my life so far. I lived in Dublin from June 14th to July 12th, met many fellow quirky creatives, and learned so much more about myself and my craft in the process.

Early Days

I dropped in early with one of my fellow cohort members from Northern Michigan University. This proved to be an enormous asset for me; having a familiar face while getting settled made everything feel so much more homey and welcoming. We spent the first weekend in and out of concerts and pubs, appreciating the oddly sunny weather that welcomed us. Everyone we bumped into thanked us for bringing the sun. Each local we met was so kind and generous, it felt like a far cry from where our country was politcally. It felt so incredibly special.

After a jet lagged weekend of fun, things got kicking! Each morning started bright and early at 7AM, we took a 45 minute bus ride from our accommodation to downtown Dublin, where we had classes at the Gaiety. The first week was focused on us getting to know one another as an ensemble and introducing us to manifesto work. This pushed many of us out of our comfort zones. I was very pleased that everyone in my group was always ready to work. This type of work was all about letting go of a “polished” final product. The aim was to make a complete fool of yourself and throw complete shit at the wall until something sticks. This turned out to be incredibly challenging, but incredibly freeing at the same time. As professional creatives, we get so stuck on perfectionism that a lot of the work we create can lose it’s original feeling. It was liberating to show up each day with no expectations for you but to play. That’s why we do what we do! Having the space to play made me feel like I did when I first jumped into the professional space. The work can and should be fun. There is still so much joy to be had in the work. Many of my classmates struggled in this space, and found Manifesto to be ridiculous and difficult. But, I found that was the point. To be completely free and silly was part of the work, the let go of expectation gave us space to make some really cool pieces. It was a test of patience though, absolutely. Each day of manifesto would last anywhere from two to four hours, and we typically only got through a piece or two a day. However, I learned the most through this class. This career is truly just chipping away at your humility, and I loved feeling no need to apologize for my work or what I was showing. Everyone looked like a fool, and that gave us space to make awesome work.

We went on a tour of Dublin one of our first days, and my favorite moment was when our tour guide gave us a piece of history I’ll never forget. Right by the Ha’penney bridge, she pulled us aside to tell us about the story of Grace Gifford and Joseph Plunkett, who were married in Kilmainham Gaol during Joseph’s imprisonment hours before he was executed by firing squad for his role in the Easter Rising of 1916. After Grace heard her fiance was going to be executed, she brought a ring to the military authorities and pleaded for their wedding to take place before his execution. This request was granted, and they were wed in the prison hours before his demise. They famously did not speak at all during this time, they just spent the time with one another. Our tour guide brought us in close to sing the song,

"Oh Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger
They'll take me out at dawn and I will die
With all my love I place this wedding ring upon your finger
There won't be time to share our love for we must say goodbye."

She was one of the loveliest Sopranos I had ever heard, and I remember my eyes getting Misty at this moment. Sharing a piece of beautiful history in art makes my heart swell. She also told us a more morbid tale aout Darkey Kelley, the ghost who haunts a particular alley way. She was known to be a serial killer who owned a brothel, and kept her deceased unruly customers under the floorboards. There was actually a pub named after her that became one of our favorite spots. Those meals were some of my favorites around Temple Bar.

The first show we ended up seeing was Riverdance, which was incredibly ‘90s and such a blast to watch and enjoy. One of my favorite parts involved a tap dance battle between the Irish Immigrants of New York and the African American Stomp dancers. It was a really cool retelling of history. Another show we saw that week was Counting Puffins, which was the Gaiety’s final showcase for the seniors. It was an ensemble play that was set up in a really cool way, it was able to balance about eighteen cast members into a 90 minute show, with each character being distinct and having the exact same amount of spotlight as everybody else. It was clear it was written for them, but it was such a joy to watch an ensemble work so well together.

pride & astronauts

My second weekend there I went clubbing with my new pals. I had some of the best nights of my life at The George, a gay club in Temple Bar. I am happy to say that was the safest I ever felt in the city. It was so wonderful to be so accepted over there and not be fearful of government figures or hidden fascists in the crowd. We spent pretty much every weekend there, they had great music and the best atmosphere I had been to in a bar-like setting. Marquette night life truly will never live up to that.

We spent a day in Howth, a beautiful seaside town that took my breath away. It was a bit of a hike, but so worth it. The best water views I had seen until then were in Marquette, and this was such a far step from that. Everything was just amplified, the sea air was perfect, the views were fantastic, everyone was nearly tearing up from how gorgeous it was. Truly a special moment with all of my friends there.

One of my favorite shows I got to see while in Dublin was a new production called Static. We watched it in the Peacock theatre, a lovely little Blackbox that felt intimate and cozy. The Abbey website summary reads,

“A story to take you out of this world. Literally.

A veteran astronaut in space and a lonely amateur radio operator in Donegal find each other by chance in the most unusual way, in this lyrical and searching play that explores our need for human connection against all the odds.”

This play was definitely the most divisive amongst my ensemble members. I had very intense conversations with each of them. Basically, everyone either loved it or hated it completely. Nobody was really in the middle ground, which is how I felt about it. The people who loved it praised the set design and lighting. The stage was split between the two worlds of the characters. Dennis, the lonely Irishman, is cluttered, confused, and stuck in a hoarder like setting. We immediately can tell he is frazzled but intelligent, and incredibly sentimental. Paul’s world is clean, sterile, and void of personality. He is an astronaut who is incredibly suicidal, but somehow gains contact with an agoraphobic Irishman. Dennis was the star of this production. The actor, Dan Gordon, was invisible in this role. He was just Dennis. That was marvelous to me. My only gripe was that Dennis was such a star and so incredibly grounded in his performance, that Paul (Sean Mahon) didn’t feel like a part of the same world. Of course, you could attribute that to him literally being in space, but their back and forth would take me out sometimes. However, Sean’s movement work was really incredible here. There were beautiful staging moments of him “floating” that really took my breath away. The folks who didn’t enjoy it attributed it to run time. The play was very character focused, so technically not much happens the entire play. A lot of them seemed to prefer spectacle in theatre, which is understandable for people in this generation. I wish I could have seen it again. The ending was one of my favorite moments I had seen on stage in awhile, even though part of it was quite goofy. It felt wonderfully cinematic. This production taught me about the importance of grounding yourself, and being fully committed to a character. I’ll be thinking about Dennis for a very long time.

Dublin pride was a wonderful experience! It was my first major pride event, and the Gaiety was scheduled to be part of the parade! I got to walk in my first large parade and I had such a blast. We had all gone out the night before, and spent the morning hungover frantically getting ready. We waited in line for awhile before things got started up, and spent part of the parade in the rain. But that just made it more fun. One of my favorite chants I heard was,

“One, two, three, four, open up the closet door!

Five, six, seven, eight, don’t pretend your kids are straight!”

I bought my first bisexual pin after the parade and actually came out to my parents that night. It was a really cool experience. There were also no protestors at the event, which unfortunately is very common in America. It was refreshing to see nobody waving bibles in your faces. I had a night full of queer joy with my peers, and I’ll never forget it.

classes & chats

The classes I took were very enjoyable. We spent the first week focusing on classic Irish playwrights like O’Casey and Synge. I don’t think I would read these plays again, but it was enjoyable to read and enjoy the history. Our professor for this class was incredibly blunt and worked very quickly. It was a good introduction to everything, but got overwhelming near the end. There was just too much to go over in just a week. The Beckett class was so much fun and incredibly challenging. I love Beckett, and was unaware at just how tedious doing his work can be. You have to be incredibly controlled, and are less free when it comes to making choices or diverging from his original vision. However, that’s what made it fun. His stories and plays were so ambiguous and yet incredibly calculated. The movements were so precise, yet he often didn’t want to answer what his work meant. It’s all subjective yet analytical, and that is such a wonderful juxtaposition to explore. My favorite play we worked on was Endgame, I found myself laughing out loud for nearly every piece that was shown. I love dark comedy, and it all really came out during our time with Beckett. I plan on directing Beckett pieces in the future, I feel incredibly passionate about learning more of his work.

The final class we took was contemporary playwrights. This was definitely my favorite class. Each day we would basically do the same thing. We would start with a few silly games, then we were given a script to look at. Roles were handed out randomly, and we would piece together the play through short scenes. We would do a table read of each one, and each group would discuss the play. This took me back to my student roots, and helped me understand each play on a much deeper level. We ended up going to see one of the plays we studied, Dancing at Lughnasa. We were all incredibly excited to attend, it felt like an Irish Little Women. However, many of us were disappointed in the production. We were hoping to see lively bubbly sisters brought to life, but were met with long pauses and somber looks in between every other line. The vibrancy of the sisters was lost in this adaptation, and many of my ensemble members actually left the theatre before Act II started up. I honestly don’t blame them! It was interesting to see the differences between on the page versus on the stage, and how poor direction can have a great effect on a piece. I will give props for the set design, there was beautiful moments of shadows happening in the field “behind” the stage. They did a lot of silhouettes and stage pictures there that I felt were very effective.

Some of my favorite classroom moments were the discussions we had in Manifesto. We spent one entire class period watching experimental theatre trailers, live performance art from the 70s, and even a clip from one of my favorite psychological horror films, Climax. Each of them had an eerie vibe to it, like it’s something that shouldn’t be watched. Everyone felt uneasy, and I loved it. My favorite pieces of media are those that can make you feel unpleasant and wrecked with nerves, but by the end you have a lot to think and talk about. It’s why we create art, to be discussed and examined. I find most happy go lucky projects incredibly boring. Only when you can look into the darker aspects of life can you find true humanity, in my opinion. We talked about a lot of Marina Abramovic’s work, and that opened up discussions of how women are portrayed in media today. It opened up debates of what is good representation versus exploitative, and how we play a part in contributing to that system or working against it. For example, the issues of nudity in media. What is considered pushing the boundary versus actual exploitation of feminine sexuality? Should we move towards showing male nudity, or would that just be out of spite? Great conversations were had amongst my peers, and it was thrilling to be a part of it. The best part was that no real conclusion was made, many of us appeared to agree, but with so many nuances to the issue, there wasn’t enough time to unpack all of this. It was simply conversational, not spiteful or trying to get somebody to be on your side.

One particular performance artist, Franko B, ignited another conversation within us that would last until the following day. How do we go about censorship when it comes to art? Many of my classmates found it upsetting that our professor didn’t warn us of the violent nature of these videos. I agreed in this case, the performance we watched showed the artist nailed to a canvas, bleeding from his forearms. That image in particular is difficult to examine in a generation full of victims of self-harm. However, I thought it made perfect sense why he didn’t. This professor doesn’t understand where we’re coming from, to him, art is meant to shock and disturb, and was seen as being completely free from typical rules or regulations. It’s truly a fine line to walk these days. We want people to be surprised, but not at the cost of exploiting anyone. We had a long conversation with him the next day, since he believed censorship was “a crock of shite.” We explained that our generation is more aware now than ever of mental health awareness, and someone potentially being exposed to “triggering” content can be compared to someone having to leave a performance with flashing lights due to epilepsy. Sure, someone seeing an act of sexual violence on stage when not stated in the program won’t kill them, but it could have a serious effect on where they may be at in the healing process. Our culture has become incredibly individualistic, but we do these things to take care of one another, not to try to censor art. But of course, this is a slippery slope. There will always be people who want to simplify art and not show certain things because it could potentially be triggering. This can lead to shying away from certain issues, and turning the other way to real life traumas that should be examined and criticized. Having sexual violence portrayed in a piece does not mean that it is “pro sexual violence” or “exploiting victims of sexual violence”. In many cases, it is bringing light to situations that so many try to shy away from or deny. Although, I do understand how these scenes often go too far for shock value. Many projects today toe the line of actually having something to say versus throwing violence out there as a plot point for a characters development. It’s always an interesting conversation to be having. These conversations will make me miss being in a student setting.

london day trip

I traveled to London for a day trip, believe it or not. A couple of my friends from school and I woke up at the ass crack of dawn to make our way over to this awesome city, and we actually had a lovely time there! When we dropped in, we were already late for a tour, but that actually gave me a lot of time to explore. It was like a perfect mix of NYC and Dublin, the crazy city people and skyscrapers along with the quaint charm you’ll find on random streets. We actually arrived during London pride, so everywhere was pretty packed and overwhelming. I actually bumped into one of the girls on Rupaul’s Drag Race, Irene The Alien, who was currently competing on All Stars 10. I was starstruck, we had a brief conversation about drag and acting, and I got a picture and went on my way. Drag has been a huge influence on my acting career, so it was truly wonderful to have that short but lovely interaction. I got lost in a few used book/record shops and smoked in the street. I felt at peace. Izzy and I ended up getting the cheapest tea experience we could find, and it was so adorable and yummy. I still coughed up over 30 pounds for two cups of tea and the tiniest dessert you’ve ever seen, but hey, that’s part of the game. Then, we caught a matinee of Hadestown, and I sobbed through the entire thing. The music was beautiful, the performances were stellar, but unfortunately you could tell Orpheus was a bit sick. I still sobbed. The themes of love making us make rash decisions, and knowing he loved her because he did turn around, and how it all wraps up in a bow to be the same story over and over, I could go on forever. But it truly was one of the best productions I’ve ever seen. My heart always feels the most full after attending a performance. There’s just something so magical about it. We rushed our way through London to find a cute spot to eat before exploring The Globe theatre. That was awesome to see and experience. We ended up seeing The Merry Wives of Windsor, which is one of the few Shakespeare plays I have never read or seen. However, now that I have seen it, I found it very enjoyable! The cast was the standout, and I learned so much from their comedic performances. You couldn’t miss a single syllable, the front two rows were very much a splash zone. But the way they leaned into every single word was breathtaking, and ultimately, HILARIOUS! Each actor was able to be incredibly funny with their movement choices, being able to seamlessly work with the text while still being entertaining and making each moment their own. We ended up standing, which I would have enjoyed much more if we hadn’t been hoofing it around London all day long. Overall, a wonderful day in London with my fellow actors.

The final week

My final week began with free tickets to a Pentagram concert. I ended up meeting up with someone I met at the first concert I went to in Dublin my first night in town. I pointed at him from across the bar because he was wearing an Alice in Chains shirt, so we hit it off right away. We spent the evening chatting over drinks in pubs, we actually watched a Hurley match in one of them. I hate sports, but it was really fun to watch everyone react. He invited me to the concert, but I didn’t have a ticket, so we planned on buying one at the door. No luck, they were all sold out. But, fear not! The dude behind me told me he had an extra ticket, and I got in for free! One of the coolest things that has and will ever happen to me. The venue was awesome, dark and spooky, full of weirdos. It was an awesome experience. The night life in Dublin was unexpectedly insane. The Irish truly know how to have a good time. In my last week, we focused on our final showcase. Each day, we would work for hours on what we were showing as a final performance. I was cast as Sara Tansey in The Playboy of the Western World by Synge, Catwoman in By The Bog Of Cats by Marina Carr, and Woman 2 in Play by Samuel Beckett. Jumping from the role of a tavern wench to a blind old woman was thrilling, and our pieces ended up going great for how little time we had to pull it off.

We also worked on a really cool Manifesto piece based on a writing exercise we did. One day during class, everyone took twenty minutes to write a letter about anything they wanted. When the timer went off, we each put the letter in an envelope and our professor handed them out randomly for us to read. They ranged from incredibly touching, to devastating, to hilarious, to stupid. I wrote a letter to the Governor of Wyoming, warning him that the writer (DB Cooper) was going to blow it up. I remember my professor called mine “so stupid, incredibly daft” with a huge grin on his face. I remember being horrified mine was so silly, since many of my peers had gone for touching works, but it ended up playing very well. I learned to trust the process with this work. We decided to incorporate this into our final piece. About half our class wrote random letters again, and we tried our different movement pieces based on letters. This performance took lots of practice, even though each time it was different, since it was mostly improvised. We would turn on a random piece of classical music, someone would begin to move in a sort of interpretive dance, and others would follow. One of the followers would have to pick up a note to read and see how it influenced the other performers. A lot of people hated it, but it was when I felt the most free to move and make big choices. Many people compared it to the SNL sketch with Emma Stone about DIY theatre, which was very accurate, but I thought it was silly to make that comparison. Everything we do looks goofy like that, it’s up to audience interpretation if something sticks or doesn’t. A couple of my letters were used in final performances. One that I wrote was incredibly personal. It was a letter to my summer fling after I had gone through a horrific breakup and craved connection more than anything. Nobody commented on it, and it was referred to as the “George Harrison one” since the first few lines were from a George Harrison song. I thought that one would be chosen. However, I had written another one. A completely silly off the dome note from some guy in the 1800s to his neighbor Josephine, telling her to get rid of her cat, since it keeps delivering dead things to his door, reminding him of his ultimate demise. I actually got praise from the professor for this one. He was impressed by the images of death and allegories I had made throughout the letter. People really loved it. This was my first experience in awhile being praised for something I had written, and it felt wrong and confusing. The letter I wrote was supposed to be funny, I thought. How are they deriving any meaning from that garbage? But, that sort of gave me an epiphany. Art is not determined by the artist. The audience derives meaning, and that creates art. The art is in the post conversations. I’m sure there are thousands of artists who made something they thought was nonsensical that people ended up adoring. Some people may think one thing is their magnum opus, but audiences may hate it. You cannot predict audience behavior in this way. That was an incredibly eye opening experience to have first hand. Sometimes, a silly cat note can make people feel more than simply vomiting your feelings on a page. Because, with the cat letter, I wasn’t trying. I was just creating something that could be used for this project. Sometimes we have to move away from deep purpose, and self masturbatory ideals. Sometimes art is so stupid. It’s the conversations and what we get out of it that makes us human, and ultimately makes us artists.