‘Living in Dublin feels so romantic, but living here is incredibly challenging financially’

Vivian Marino, who is originally from Mill Valley in California, moved to Ireland in 2019 to begin a degree in English, drama and film at University College Dublin.

Life in California was great, she says – the nature there was “so calming and comforting” – but, after taking a year out following her graduation from high school, Marino decided to try something new by studying abroad.

As a theatre lover, she had considered courses in London, but ultimately she settled on Dublin, a city that was suggested by some Irish family friends, and where she thought it might be easier to get work in the arts industry.

“My most direct connection to Ireland was through my mother, who had been open-water swimming for about 10 years,” says Marino. “There’s a substantially large Irish open-water swimming community in California that my mom is friends with, and when I was applying to colleges they chimed in and encouraged me to go study in Ireland.”

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Choosing UCD was “easily one of the best decisions I ever made for myself,” she says.

“Before I came to Ireland, I took a year out of secondary school. Where I grew up – a very affluent area with lots of Lululemon mommies and people working in tech – there was a lot of focus on college as a place that will set your trajectory for your entire life. The attitude was that it would determine everything. Everyone’s parents were spending thousands of dollars on their 18-year-olds’ college application. It’s ridiculous”.

“When I came to Ireland I flew alone. I’d never been to the country before, and even just on the plane I remember people being so friendly. I remember an older man asking me what I was going to do in Ireland and just being so nice about it, and even the taxi driver was so kind and curious.”

The people on Marino’s course were also “so friendly”, but it took her a long time to make real friendships, she says.

“My first year here was so grim, to be honest, but it had to happen that way to get to where I am now. I was waking up very early in the morning to call a long-distance boyfriend, and then I would go to class and study in the evening – and that was it. I was so anxious about maintaining this relationship that it took me months to start making friends with my housemates and going to concerts in the evening and normal college stuff. And then Covid happened.”

Marino had travelled home to California for her spring break in 2020, and was still there when she found out “the world had basically shut down because of Covid”.

“I had only packed for a two-week trip, but I ended up staying at home for about a year. All of my stuff was back in Ireland, in the UCD student accommodation. I was on my parents’ couch for a year because they had moved house after I left, and I was living out of a suitcase at first,” she says.

“It was comfortable at first to be at home at that time and to be taken care of, and I was waking up every day at 4am or 5am to do my classes online. But by the end of that year, I just felt so locked in, and I felt desperate to get back to Ireland. I was rattling the cage doors.”

Directing is a way for me to claim my power. I’ve learned a lot through it. At first, I came at it from a very dictatorial approach, but since then I’ve realised that’s not the most fruitful way to direct. It needs to be a lot more collaborative

After she returned to Ireland in 2021, Marino’s relationship ended, and she threw herself into university life.

“I ran for a committee position in the drama society, Dramsoc, as the theatre manager and I got it alongside another member. That was amazing. It reminds me of those female rage scenes in films where they’re just ripping everything off the wall. That was me with my life. I was just so ready for change.”

Dramsoc was “life changing”, she says. After directing her first show in the society in 2021, Marino realised directing was the career for her.

“Directing is a way for me to claim my power, I think. I’ve learned a lot through it. At first, I came at it from a very dictatorial approach, but since then I’ve realised that’s not the most fruitful way to direct. It needs to be a lot more collaborative. I didn’t realise that giving up some of the power in that way can actually be so rewarding and fulfilling. It’s a lot of trust,” she explains.

Marino has both directed and assistant-directed several amateur shows in the society since then, and graduated from her Bachelor's degree in recent months. Her “dream” is to study directing in the Lir next year and then try to get work in Ireland. For now, she works as an usher in both the Bord Gáis Energy Theatre and the Gaiety.

“Theatre is my whole life. There’s something about the nostalgia of the Gaiety, the chandeliers, the safety curtain – the whole look of the place just takes you back. It’s the opposite of a black box, because there you’re entering this void where the creatives get to make the space, whereas the Gaiety style takes you totally out of the modern world into this specific, comforting, theatrical space. It’s spectacular,” she says.

Some of Marino’s favourite shows have been in the Bord Gáis.

“I’ve gotten to see some of them as an usher and I feel like sometimes the universe was trying to tell me something that relates to my life through the show,” she says.

“Whenever I’ve wondered, ‘Was that the right thing to do, leaving that guy?’ Then My Fair Lady will be on – and she leaves him. That was the best decision she made. Or Beauty and the Beast is on and it’s about love and sacrifice. It’s so on the nose, but it’s so comforting,” she laughs.

“Living in Dublin feels so romantic for me. But I recognise that living here is incredibly challenging financially, and that’s making a lot of people leave or want to leave,” she says.

So many Irish friends were in touch offering a place to crash or offering to help me move. Honestly, that made me cry. The reality of the eviction hadn’t even set in yet but the overwhelming kindness just made me so emotional

“California is one of the most beautiful places in the world, but I left because those ties weren’t strong enough to keep me there. And yet here, where it’s grey, and it’s cloudy and cold, the thought of me leaving here and leaving all the people I’ve met is so saddening.”

Marino has had her own challenges navigating the housing crisis in Dublin, but “got lucky” a year ago after being evicted from a property at just one month’s notice, when a room came up with a friend from UCD.

“When that happened, so many Irish friends were in touch offering a place to crash or offering to help me move. Honestly, that made me cry. The reality of the eviction hadn’t even set in yet but the overwhelming kindness just made me so emotional. And then I got so lucky after such a tough situation to end up living with my friend Lucy. I love living with her and I’m so grateful – especially given how tough it is to find a place”.

Those friends Marino has made in Ireland help her to feel like Dublin is somewhere she could remain long-term.

“I think if I were made to be alone in the world, then maybe the nature of California, the forests and the ocean would be where I would want to be physically. But if I were in a nothing, void space, and I had only people to bring with me, then I would bring my Dublin people. I’ve never had a closer family than the friends I’ve met here.”