A new musical play tells the stories of older gay people and contains a few uncomfortable truths from past and present Ireland, writes RÓISÍN INGLE.
'I WILL BE STRAIGHT with you," says Jack Morrissey, a cast member of Silver Starsand a retired father of two who will be 69 in a couple of months. "We were discussing one of the stories from Jesuit priest John McNeill. And someone said: 'He has been very supportive of us.'
"I thought 'us?' Until that second, this had never struck me as anything other than a crowd of people acting and singing. Then I was looking around the room and the penny dropped that some of my fellow actors were gay. I suddenly felt like one of a minority. And I thought, 'if I am feeling collywobbles and wonders and fears, then that's the experience of wider society', so it's been quite educational for me."
For the past few weeks in a Dublin city-centre arts studio, a group of men and one woman have been giving voice in music and the spoken word to the stories of older gay men. The interviews were collected over the last two years by singer/songwriter Sean Millar for a performance that forms part of Bealtaine, the older people's festival
Putting the cast through their paces this evening, with a series of physical movements and vocal exercises, is Paul Keenan, from the drama department of Trinity College, himself an older gay man with the perspective of an outsider.
The 58-year-old says coming to Dublin eight years ago from Montreal was a serious adjustment. "In Dublin, I found myself defining myself through my sexuality, which was something I haven't done since my early 20s," he says.
Under Paul's guidance, the bare space fills with sonorous vocals and, when the rehearsal proper starts, two members of acclaimed theatre company Brokentalkers direct the stories of shame, fear and freedom.
Some of the cast are gay; some, like Jack, are heterosexual men married with children; The stories range from the words of Irish fashion designer Richard Lewis, who spoke of mourning the death of his life partner, to that of an unnamed but high-profile Irish businessman who recounts bacchanalian days partying in Italy with homosexual Benedictine monks, about which more later.
When Jack heard about Silver Stars, he presumed it was a piece about older people. "At the rehearsals, Sean got me to hold a few notes and then he asked whether I knew if the subject matter was stories from older, gay men. I didn't, but I said that wouldn't be an issue; you don't have to be dangerous to play Hamlet. I told a couple of my friends about it and they came along, too."
ONE OF THOSE friends is 62-year-old chiropodist Rodney Devitt, who admits to having in the past held "vague, stereotypical" views of gay people. "It's been a very positive experience," he says. "It was a new realm to me. As an artistic endeavour, it's very interesting and I am very pleased I've been involved; we are a good team."
Gay man and "rusty old actor" Pauric Cullen presumed the other actors were gay. "I thought they were all demure gay men, but apparently we are a mixed bunch," he smiles.
Inspired by the candle in the window of Áras an Uachtaráin, he left an acting career in London fifteen years ago to return home and now take care of his 95-year-old mother.
Growing up in Dublin as a gay man was lonely, he says, and these days his experience of being an older gay man in Ireland is influenced by his role as carer to his mother: "If I fell over somebody in the street I would have a relationship, but I am not going out looking for one. I've just turned 50, so I can be mellow about it."
He laughs and says he finds "sensitive straight men" very confusing. "In my generation, very few straight men could afford to be sensitive, because they would have been immediately labelled a poof."
And, yes, he does sometimes look wistfully at the more empowered younger generation of gay people and say: "I would love to be young and gay again.
"Envy is probably too strong a word because I am quite happy where I am, but we do live in a more open world. It certainly didn't feel like that when I was 21."
Does he think it's brave of the straight, older men to take part in such a project? "I think we are all brave," he replies.
Silver Starsauthor Sean Millar, who has worked on other collaborative projects, is heterosexual, but loathes the expression "straight men". "I am the most twisted, awkward person; the one thing I am not is bloody straight," he grimaces. He was inspired to collect the stories by his friend Aidan, who, a few years ago, told him his life story as they travelled across the country in a van.
"I found myself over a period of three hours laughing and being moved and choking back tears," he explains. "I don't see myself or people I know in the way the media represents people. Men are like this, or women are like that, or gay men are young men with their tops off dancing, with incredibly fit bodies. I loved the way my friend Aidan was so articulate and had such a wide life experience. He opened me up to the idea of telling as many of these stories as I could. I wanted to tell the more complex story."
According to Sean, the generation of gay men now in their 50s, 60s, 70s and 80s was a community which was not served by the law or church or society generally, and so "had to find a new spirituality, they had to find a new way of having relationships". Anecdotal evidence suggests this community left Ireland in droves or found other ways of coping, including getting married or in some cases joining the priesthood.
FOR THOSE involved in the production, it's been a chance to reflect on their own experiences. Frank McMullan, a civil servant with one of the government's economic development agencies and a member of gay and lesbian choir Glória, did not grow up as a gay man "because I was in denial of what and who I was". He got married and had children and because of that, his "coming out" was much later.
The stories in Silver Starsare important, he says. "Part of the problem in the world as regards gay people is that their stories are not known and the world doesn't seem to want to hear their stories.
"Things are a bit better now but there are still pressures in a society that doesn't encourage people to be who they are. The fact that it's still not a comfortable thing for two guys to walk down O'Connell Street holding hands says it all. Until that day arrives, the world is still not dealing with the issue of homosexuality the way it should."
There have been positive developments at the same time, he says, particularly concerning Glória, which has played with the Garda band - its next gig with the the band is in the National Concert Hall on June 8th. "They have been very supportive," he says.
Frank describes himself as "reasonably out". "I don't hide it but I don't sing it from the rooftops," he says.
Recently, an article about him appeared in a work magazine, where he talked about his upcoming gigs with Glória in the US cities of Boston and Miami. "Anybody that wanted to put two and two together could do that," he says. "And anybody who chose to ignore it was at liberty to do that, too. I've never had a homophobic experience but it is something people don't talk about generally. It's very rarely mentioned in family and in work and social situations. It's kind of 'we are aware of it but we don't talk about it, don't frighten the horses'. We are still a society that doesn't know how to relate to gay and lesbian people."
For many of the people involved in the production, the most moving section of Silver Starsis contained in Aidan's story, where his mother goes to visit him in Paris: "She said, 'my God has told me, your life is a sin . . . but I love you more than God'." It's a powerful moment in a powerful production.
Another part of the script that has caused difficulty for some participants is where the unnamed high-profile Irish businessman relates the story of a hedonistic episode with Benedictine monks around the time of Pope Paul VI's funeral: "To come to Italy, to the heart of Catholicism, and find out the whole thing was run by guys . . . they enjoyed life, no bullshit, no shame". Some of the actors say they find this interview hard to believe.
Paul Keenan, who works regularly in Italy, has no trouble believing the story. He recounts a time, five years ago in Dublin, when a gay priest friend introduced him to a few of his friends, also priests.
"My friend was miserable, trapped and trying to change things for himself," he says. "I sat there with these other men and felt so uncomfortable. The chat was about property, holidays, the most banal, materialistic stuff. They were some of the most horrific men I'd ever met; they were in their expensive clothes, living in their rectories with their jacuzzis and their fancy boys on the side. So the story in Silver Stars resonated with me, was utterly believable."
At the time, Paul asked the group of gay priests whether they had met in the seminary: "There was silence; I had said the unsayable."
For Frank McMullan, a Christian who is still "nourished" by his spiritual life, the church's inability to deal with homosexuality is a source of sadness.
"I don't see it changing," he says. "I don't have anger anymore. I waited and waited in hope but I think I will be long dead and gone before the church gets around to dealing with the issue." In the meantime, Silver Stars should give us all something to think about, including younger members of the gay community such as writer, director, actor and cabaret performer Neil Watkins.
Neil says he was attracted to the project for its artistic merits but adds that he had a personal revelation while in rehearsal. He is currently writing a play, The Dark Room, for the Dublin Fringe Festival, which he had planned would focus on "gay shame" because "the notion that somebody should be ashamed of what they do in bed is absurd. But in a way, being involved with Silver Starsis exorcising my gay shame," he says. "We were doing backing vocals the other night for Frank's piece. It sounds like a Johnny Cash number, and I felt like a real man singing it." He heard a quote recently which suggests "the cure for the shame is in the shame itself".
"It really makes sense in the context of Silver Stars; it's up to me to stop believing in everything the world has taught me to believe," he says.
Silver Stars runs for three nights at the Project Arts Centre in Dublin from tomorrow night
