Anna Manahan never wanted to be a star, but fame "stole up" on her unknowingly, she says.
It is now more than three years since the Waterford-born actor won a Tony award for her role in Martin McDonagh's play, The Beauty Queen of Leenane, and she grew accustomed to seeing her face on billboards all over Manhattan.
But the idea of being "a household name in New York" is still disconcerting. "I sit in my home in William Street [in Waterford] and my mind doesn't take that in. I love my work but I have never cared for any high life," she says.
Her surprise to discover she was famous, however, is nothing compared to the shock she received before Christmas on being told she was to be conferred with the Freedom of the City of Waterford.
When the mayor, Mr Hilary Quinlan, called to her home to tell her, she thought he was responding to a letter she had written to him about repairs to be carried out to her brother's house, her original family home, in Lombard Street.
"Now, common sense should have told me I wouldn't get a message saying the mayor was calling to my house on a matter such as plastering a wall. But, honest to God, it never struck me . . . so he sat there and I said to him 'you've come to me about the house' and he said 'no, we'll talk about that in January. I've come to tell you that by unanimous decision from the mayor and the city council, you are to be awarded the Freedom of the City'. I burst into tears."
Having already been honoured with a "wonderful" civic reception following her Tony award, higher recognition was the last thing she expected, and she was deeply touched.
"I mean, I have medals and awards hanging out of me like an Irish dancer, but I never dreamed this would happen and it is hard to express my feelings. With the Tony award the excitement was high, but when the mayor told me this, I felt as if everything went still . . . to learn that the people of Waterford wanted me to have this has made me feel very humble."
Her love affair with her native city and its surroundings has been life-long. "It was stamped on me when I was born and when I die I think you'll find me walking around George's Quay, maybe you'll meet me some night. We always had this wonderful love of Waterford in my family."
Her dominant childhood memories are of visits to neighbours' houses for songs and chat, where there was little alcohol but sandwiches and "big pots of tea", and impromptu music sessions in the Manahans' home in Lombard Street during which neighbours would open their windows to listen.
The people of the locality, she recalls, would "get into this fishing boat that belonged to a brother of Mrs Cullinane, one of our neighbours, and we would all go down to Duncannon on a picnic. That was a yearly treat. Imagine that happening today."
She also remembers how, with her two sisters and three brothers, she would go on nature walks with her father, Paddy, who, as a celebrated local comedian, was no stranger to the stage himself.
She might never have left Waterford but it was not possible then to remain and pursue a career in theatre. "There were no regional companies or Arts Council grants or these kinds of subsidies when I was starting. You had to go to Dublin to drama school as I did, to Ria Mooney, who had the first Gaiety School of Acting, and sort of fight your way upstream."
She returned to live in her native city in 1994, but has spent much time since on the road. She never had ambitions to be a celebrity. "That didn't enter my mind. It seemed to be a desire to express myself in this way, to explore plays and texts and characters, but to share it with an audience."
Young people entering the profession today, she fears, are not as well-grounded. "There may be some who are. But certainly the ones I've met are all talking about being a star, being a celebrity, making money, being on the telly, being on the screen. You hear very few of them who talk about it being a way of life, a journey, an enriching of yourself and the people who see you perform.
"I think it's sad that someone walks across a television screen or is in a house, that Big Brother thing, and become a celebrity. And those poor kids all like gibbering monkeys wanting to be pop stars.
" I see so much of that because of the kind of world we're living in. As [fellow actors] Dave Kelly and Brenda Fricker said, we did it for love. That really encapsulates it, we did it for love and we earned buttons. Most of my life I have earned buttons, it's only in the last few years I've earned really decent money.
"In order to survive I've done cabaret, I've done pub theatre, I've done solo shows, I've done everything. The only thing I haven't done is opera. I did a circus scene for the film Ulysses, I've done it all." Her most recent project has been a tour of Ireland with The Matchmaker by John B. Keane, who wrote Big Maggie for her in the 1960s. She is due to take the play to London this year with co-star Des Keogh.
Her next public appearance is likely to be next month or in March, when the conferring on her of the Freedom of the City is held. Her surviving brothers, Val and Joe, as well as a large gathering of family and friends from Ireland and abroad, will be there.
Then it's back to work. After a performance of The Matchmaker in Mullingar last year, a young woman approached her and asked her to be sure not "to give up". She has no such intention. "Oh no. I hear of actors retiring but I don't understand it. Actors die with their boots on. You don't give up. You just don't."
