The Humours of Bandon is a one-woman play written, produced, and performed by former champion Irish dancer Margaret McAuliffe. Informed and inspired by her own dance history, the 40-year-old Dublin native spins a story full of heart, humour, and wisdom.
Praised by the Irish Times as “sharp, charming, and hilarious”, this coming of age tale introduces us to Annie — a 16-year-old Irish dancer from Dublin — on the eve of the biggest competition of her life, the Irish Open Championships 1999.
On the heels of the play’s recent cross-continental tour, The Irish Dance Globe spoke to Margaret about her Irish dance background, the creative process for Humours, and her deep connection to the performing arts.
Tell us a little bit about yourself and your Irish dancing background.
I was a champion dancer and qualified teacher with Cumann Rince Náisiúnta [CRN]. I danced for Claire McKenna in Malahide and got into it by happenstance really. I was a clumsy kid and my mother said that before I started school, she needed to do something about it as I was a very messy eater and would fall a lot; she didn’t want me getting teased.
She got advice to put me into Irish dancing to “straighten her out”. So, aged five, she brought me along to Máire Mhic Aogháin’s class in Malahide where we lived and said that I took to it straight away and didn’t want to leave as soon as the class was over.
Following my year or two in An Coimisiún [CLRG], after the summer recess, a new term started that September, and a flyer came in the door for Claire McKenna’s class in Malahide GAA Club. My mother brought me down to that class thinking “they’re all the same”. I remember very vividly dancing my reel in front of all the other children and being told that I’d have to learn a whole new set of dances as I was in a different organisation now. That was the beginning of my 18-year competitive Irish dancing career with CRN.
Other than acquiring my CRN teacher’s diploma in 2006, my biggest achievement was winning the Ard Ghrád U19 award in 2000, making me a champion, and then going on to win the Dublin Championship O21 in 2004.
You’re also an actress and playwright with an impressive resume. What are some of your fondest memories in the performing arts?
Great question! Some of my fondest memories in the performing arts are now related to my play The Humours of Bandon, although I’ve been in many more productions besides that. It’s interesting to draw comparisons between the two as they exist so separately really.
I remember clearly coming off stage after its first ever performance at Dublin Fringe in 2016 and collapsing on the couch with my director Stefanie Preissner in a fit of giggles, feeling it had gone rather well. I had to limp back onto the stage with only one shoe on to take another bow because the audience wouldn’t stop clapping. That was a seminal moment for me, feeling like what I’d written had connected with strangers. Up until that point, I’d never thought of myself as a writer. I still struggle with that to be honest; I’ve a bit of imposter syndrome in that regard.
I have fond memories of the West Cork Fit Up Festival where I performed in Jezebel by Mark Cantan with Rough Magic Theatre Company in 2014. That was the first year I met my now-husband who was working down at the festival, although nothing of the sort was on the cards back then. The first venue we performed in was on Whiddy Island and before showtime at 8pm, they came backstage (a bedroom in a B&B/pub) to let us know that the performance would be delayed somewhat on account of the fact that a boat load of more audience members was en route, but the boat wouldn’t dock for another few minutes.
We took that same play to Paris and the Soho Theatre in London but it was those performances in West Cork which hold my most cherished memories. The audiences were so supportive and came in huge numbers and laughed so hard we felt like rockstars. We even met Graham Norton who’d come to see it in Kilcrohane and ended up having a few drinks with him in his local afterwards.
“It’s an uplifting tale about a contemporary Irish character living in Dublin and pursuing her goals”
Margaret McAuliffe
Have you found any parallels between your experiences in Irish dance and theatre?
I would have to say, as is the case with me in general, I came to them late. With Irish dancing, because I’d to go back and learn all my steps from scratch, I danced in a beginner’s grade at the age of eight, whereas I had classmates who were already on complicated steps by then, having started at five. I didn’t get serious about Irish dancing until I was about 15, so seven years on.
With theatre, I didn’t go into full-time study until after I had got my degree in Multimedia, or as my mother called it, “put a piece of paper in my back pocket”. I studied acting full-time aged 26 and graduated aged 28 (2010), and was full-time acting with no side job by 2017. So again, it took me seven years. But it’s a marathon not a sprint and I plan to be doing this for a long time, so reaching certain milestones by certain ages is no longer a determining factor in how I enjoy my passions.
What was the catalyst that inspired you to create The Humours of Bandon? How does it contribute to the Irish arts and culture sphere?
I wrote The Humours of Bandon in 2016 as part of the “Show in a Bag” initiative for the Dublin Fringe Festival. There was a callout for submissions for ideas for plays in January/February by Fishamble: The New Play Company and the Irish Theatre Institute and, although I’d had quite a successful three years prior to that, I was facing down the barrel of 2016 with no work on the horizon. My father is a pilot and was typing an email to me from Istanbul where he mentioned that “some actresses make their own work” and attached an article he was reading on Quora to that effect. The closing date for submissions was the day I read that email so I remember looking up towards the sky and saying aloud, “OK OK, I hear ya I hear ya.”
“At times I was crying, the tears falling down my cheeks as my fingers furiously typed”
Margaret McAuliffe
The play is about Irish dancing but really that’s just the backdrop. Essentially, it’s about any activity that you do to such a point where you’re not aware that you don’t enjoy it anymore. What surprises people is how sweet a show it is. That is to say yes, it’s Irish, but shock horror, it doesn’t mention the demon “drink” and it doesn’t centre around warring siblings discussing their deceased parent’s will. There are no taboo secrets to be uncovered. It’s an uplifting tale about a contemporary Irish character living in Dublin and pursuing her goals. I don’t think it perpetuates a stereotype of Irish people but moreover gives people an insight into contemporary Irish life.
I love how the play is filled with lots of Irish dance details but also plenty of sentimental moments that anyone can relate to. How did you find that balance in creating something about a niche subject for a general audience?
Another good question. I suppose my writing for an audience came second to my writing this story as a sort of cathartic expression of my many feelings towards Irish dancing and what it meant to me. It was a sort of goodbye. My director, Stefanie Preissner, had no experience of Irish dancing which helped to translate it to a lay audience. She knew me very well though so had the good sense to bring in her friend and collaborator at the time, Jo Halpin, and together they served to slice the play from a dramaturgical perspective whenever I got too bogged down in detail that the lay person wouldn’t understand. I wrote from the heart and then they’d put up their hand and say, “Hey Mags, I’m lost,” or “I don’t understand,” or “Do we really need all that detail?”
Share a little bit of insight into your creative process for writing the play and getting into character. How has Humours differed or stood out from other works that you’ve written and/or performed in?
I wrote the first draft of what became The Humours of Bandon from 10am, Tuesday July 19, 2016 and finished it at 2am, Wednesday July 20. It took me those 14 hours and the four months leading up to them. In that time, I’d written snatches of memories or little scenes or vignettes that, no matter how long I spent on them, wouldn’t join up for me. I was lost, a deadline approaching.
My pal and a great theatre director in Dublin, Ronan Phelan, told me to “just tell us a story”. So, I sat down and started with a massive disappointment I’d suffered in 1999 where I came seventh in a competition I thought I might win. I started writing out that memory in all its detail and the play sort of exploded onto the page.
At times I was crying, the tears falling down my cheeks as my fingers furiously typed, desperate to get to a point where I could stop. Writing is extremely cathartic for me. And it’s an important lesson for this perfectionist to let things go and leave them be messy and not make sense until you’re in the headspace to come back and let the scientist neaten them up for you. That’s the easy part for me, the editing. The hard bit is concentrating my attention enough to get the stuff down.
What’s next for this play? Do you have any other projects on the horizon?
I’ve performed this play many times now. I think a recent performance in London was number 206. It’ll be heading down to the Skibbereen Arts Festival in August, but other than that, I’ve no definite plans for its future. I’m writing a play at the moment, which sort of began in 2018 but then lockdown happened and I got distracted with writing the feature adaptation of The Humours of Bandon.
I don’t want to say too much about this next play other than the fact that it’ll start as Humours did, with me focusing on an emotional sort of touchstone moment in my life. I know the theme and I’m in the ballpark of where it’s heading, but it’s still early days yet so I’m not quite ready to give a synopsis. It’ll not be a one-person show though, that much I can tell you with confidence.
Follow Margaret McAuliffe and keep up with her work on Instagram.
