At Home With... Tara Flynn

In spite of – or perhaps due in part to – the chaotic, hearty nature of her comedic turns, Tara Flynn’s home is a paragon of uncluttered minimalism.

“It’s the first time I’ve had a lot of space, because I was living in a one-bedroom apartment beforehand,” she explains. “So I have very few rugs and things as I’m tired of being cluttered. Before I got my dining room table a friend of mine was over and was like, ‘Oh God Tara, someone has nicked all your stuff!’ There’s the Cancerian part of me that wants to keep everything, but I’m going against the grain and I’ve decided not to be sentimental. I keep stuff for a few weeks and then I chuck everything in the green bin I’ve paid for very handsomely.”
This disciplined approach also extends to her CD collection – where most of us tend to keep our purchases for better or for worse, Flynn undertakes regular ‘downsizing’ sessions to keep her CD collection suitably sparse.
“The collection is not enormous, partly because I buy stuff and if it's crap I get rid of it,” she explains. “It’s a varied collection 'cos of the discipline – Mozart to Snoop Dogg. If something grabs me I buy it as I love music. I’ve everything from the Spice Girls upwards. There’s even Britney in there, although she’s due for the chop. I think I’ll keep the Justin Timberlake album though, even if I do feel like a dirty babysitter.”
Having moved into her duplex a year ago, Tara has wasted no time in getting her fellow comedians to make visits.
“It’s hard to get the comedy mates over, we’re all working so much,” she admits. “Tuesdays are good…I had some friends over for a lunch on Tuesday that went on from 1.30pm to 10pm. I tend to have Withnail & I nights along with Brendan Dempsey and Ian Coppinger. It’s often a long night, that disintegrates into lots more DVDs and wine. There’s lots of anal student-y saying of the lines along with the film…God, most people are probably reading this thinking, ‘Thanks be to fuck I’m not her mate!’”
By her own admission, it could be worse – visiting friends might also be subjected to several viewings of Amadeus.
“I love Amadeus,” she enthuses. “It’s fantastic, and it stuck with me in my teens. It’s one of those 80s teen flicks that has a vaguely classier sheen. It’s basically Sixteen Candles with violins.”
Living in the Donnybrook duplex, contends Flynn, has both its drawbacks and advantages.
“It’s very close to RTE, which is great if I’m doing a radio play or something 'cos it means I can roll out of bed at the last minute, which is fantastic,” she reveals. “It’s also close to town, so in terms of going in for drinks, it’s not a million euro to get home. I’m also down a cul-de-sac, you’d never know the motorway was two minutes away. It’s the best of both worlds…I’m almost a little jealous of myself!”
Of course, Donnybrook is also home to the Donnybrook Fair, otherwise known to Tara as “the most expensive lunch ever.”
“You get 3 sun-dried tomatoes, a couple of olives, and there’s no change from 20 euros,” she scoffs. “Also I’m on my bike going through Donnybrook, and when I cycle I feel like the scruffiest person around. It’s bloody fantastic.”
Among the prized possessions in her new home is the opulent red couch in her living room.
“I waited months for it to arrive, and it’s probably my favourite thing in the house,” she concludes. “It’s the first thing I’d save in a fire, even if it would mean I’d be un-economical with my strength. I’d have to try and reconstitute it or something.”
These days Flynn is sharing her abode with Oscar, a three-week-old cocker spaniel puppy.
“He’s chewing everything to bits in the garden, but I guess it’s better he’s doing it in the garden than the flat,” she reckons. “These days I’m never without a mop as I’m running after the dog. There’s shredded paper and little presents everywhere, but he’s getting the message and we’re spending more time in the garden. I’m like, ‘Shit in the bush, not on the minimalist floor!’”