Conor Hanratty: These seven words had a happy impact on my life after returning home from LA

Sometimes one’s life path can turn on a simple utterance from someone else. That’s exactly what happened for theatre and opera director Conor Hanratty. He tells Helen O’Callaghan about seven words, said with warmth and genuineness, that paved the way for an unexpected pivot

Conor Hanratty: 'Sometimes a warm word can have a very happy impact, and I’ve always been incredibly grateful to Niamh O'Donnell for hers.' Pictures: Brian McEvoy

In March 2011, I was in my final year of graduate school, studying directing at the University of California, Los Angeles. I had just worked on my first opera, and had been offered an exciting job with a major Hollywood studio. I had spent most of my 20s living away from home, in London, and Tokyo, and had been in California for the best part of three years.

I loved living in new places. I loved adapting to the rhythm of a new city, but I always carried a quiet, constant friction — the small, daily effort of navigating a culture that isn’t quite your own. The little things that make you feel you’re a foreigner there.

So, for Spring Break, I decided to come home for a little holiday. I think I was looking for a temporary pause and instead I found a major pivot.

The day in question was a lovely one, amid a week full of significant events. I had already been to the funeral of a mentor — Gerry Haugh, drama teacher in Belvedere College, Dublin — as well as to a terrific concert — Kyle Minogue — with some very close friends. And I’d celebrated my dad’s birthday.

But then this one day was one of those rare, golden spring days where Dublin seems to show off and remind us why we love her. I even had a proverbial coffee and a stroll in Stephen’s Green!

I spent the afternoon drifting between old haunts, catching up with friends over coffee that stretched into hours, and reconnecting with family.

There was no agenda, just the joy of effortless belonging, of being home and making sense here. I make more sense in Ireland, if I make sense anywhere.

Conor Hanratty: 'I had viewed my trip home as a brief intermission before returning to my "real" life in LA, and the challenging, exciting work ahead — directing my thesis production, figuring out next steps, and that big job. But Niamh O'Donnell's words pierced through the potential Hollywood glamour.' 

That evening, the energy shifted from nostalgic to electric. I went to a wild show at the Olympia, and was immensely entertained. Afterwards, spilling out onto the cobbles, a crowd of us stood chatting outside the theatre. In the middle of this, I crossed paths with the brilliant Niamh O’Donnell, then general manager of Project Arts Centre, and now director of the Irish Theatre Institute.

We exchanged warm greetings, talking about my studies and my time away. As the conversation naturally wound down, she looked at me, smiled genuinely, and said: “We love it when people come home.”

It was delivered entirely without drama, just a casual, throwaway comment over the noise of the street. But it stuck with me.

Up until that exact moment, I had viewed my trip as a brief intermission before returning to my ‘real’ life in LA, and the challenging, exciting work ahead — directing my thesis production, figuring out next steps, and that big job. But those seven words pierced through the potential Hollywood glamour.

Conor Hanratty: 'LA couldn't offer me a community that truly knew me.' 

They forced me to confront what I actually valued. LA might have offered a job with a famous name, but the work would have been far from my own passion, and for someone else. It would have been more commercial, less to do with theatre and more with industrial and entertainment design. Whereas my focus has always been on telling stories, and on live performances with actors, singers and audiences.

And LA couldn’t offer me a community that truly knew me. Niamh’s words weren’t just a welcome. They were also a challenge and a validation. I’d been away for nearly three years. And just for her to say that, off the cuff, made me feel ‘Wow! I can come home, and there will be something here for me’. They made me feel like I hadn’t been forgotten, that there was still a place for me in our creative community, and that the future I was building didn’t have to happen somewhere else.

Her words planted a little idea. I was sort of at a crossroads. What will I do next when I finish my degree? Will I work in LA? Will I make it as a new graduate theatre-maker there? The idea to come home became stronger after a beautiful banner week in Dublin anyway, and then Niamh’s lovely comment — if I had needed a push, that was the push.

Her words glowed in my head for the following months, and I decided, maybe about June, to come home. It’s 15 years ago now — and this is a hindsight perspective — but I’m glad I did. I’ve never had any feeling of what if, or coulda woulda.

I’ve always felt it was the right choice. Life is up and down no matter where you are, but I’ve never for a second wished that I lived in LA, or that I hadn’t done what I did.

Sometimes a warm word can have a very happy impact, and I’ve always been incredibly grateful to Niamh for hers.

• Conor Hanratty is directing End of the Rainbow at The Everyman, Cork from Tuesday, August 27 until Saturday, September 5, before transferring to the Gaiety in Dublin and Grand Opera House, Belfast. Visit everymancork.com or phone [phone].