Sharon Ní Bheoláin
RTÉ news anchor Sharon Ní Bheoláin has been a big part of the national conversation we’ve been having since the start of the pandemic, but as she tells Catherine Lee, she is much more comfortable being the medium rather than the message
The RTÉ news anchor doesn’t do many interviews, but she talks to Catherine Lee about her role in the current national conversation, and her life in lockdown
Broadcaster Sharon Ní Bheoláin doesn’t do interviews. Obviously, she ‘does’ interviews; that’s her job and in recent weeks, as the country battles the pandemic, the seasoned RTÉ news anchor has had everybody from the Taoiseach to the state’s chief medical officer Dr Tony Holohan at the end of some intense questioning, but when she becomes the focus of attention, she’s very much out of her comfort zone. Enquires about an interview are met with initial resistance and then genuine bafflement that people would be at all interested. A quick scan of the acres of coverage of one of RTÉ’s bestknown faces shows that people are indeed interested. Everything from her swatting a fly on air, to her latest on screen sartorial choice is commented, clicked and Tweeted upon. As a news journalist schooled in newshound values, the fascination is beyond Ní Bheoláin. Nonetheless, once she’s made a decision to do the interview, nothing is off bounds. We meet on the afternoon of one of the hottest days of the year, before she starts her prep for the Nine O’Clock News bulletin. She’s just driven the short hop across the city from her north Dublin home, a place where in recent weeks she’s discovered the joys of gardening: “It’s a small courtyard space, but I filled it with pots earlier this year and it’s been a joy to watch them bloom and grow.” Life is different in these pandemic days and it’s hard to begin any conversation with anybody, friend or stranger, without checking how life has been in these extraordinary times, “It’s the question du jour I guess, it’s the obligatory greeting, the new ‘Any plans for the summer?’ I’m not even sure how you go about answering that, to be honest,” she says, smiling broadly. “I haven’t lost anyone, thankfully, and no one has been ill, so I’m inclined to say that it’s been okay. There’s been holidays lost, concerts cancelled, friends and family missed, but in the great scheme of things, I’ve been incredibly lucky.
“I feel sorry for the little one, the ‘little one’ who towers over me,” she says of her daughter Faye, “she’s been busy making plans to celebrate her 18th, poring over guest lists and possible venues and I haven’t had the heart to say anything.
“Hats off to the all the young ones; it’s not easy having your life put on pause, when your friends are your world in many respects.”
Has Ní Bheoláin, noted for her coolness under pressure, had the occasional wobble like the rest of us, as we get to grips with a world that seems utterly changed in three short months?
“On a personal level, I find it all a bit surreal, kind of discombobulating in that you’re in the grip of this global crisis, locked down, isolated, a little panicked, watching the death toll mount night after night. There’s also a bit of a bank holiday vibe to it all. The hordes of people out walking, cycling, eating ice-cream in the sun; it’s hard to get your head around it.
“At home, we love having the bit of time to sit around the table, often for hours on end, the joy of living simply, feeling deeply. Loved ones are more loved, more precious these days. I’m even enjoying the cooking, but I do admit I find myself oscillating between appreciating the slower pace of life one minute and freaking out the next. I’m able to counter the worries when they strike during daylight hours; it’s the 4am starts that get to me,” she admits.
Work-life as a TV news anchor must go on: there’s a frantic news cycle to keep on top of, briefs to be read and interviews to be watched before 9pm comes around. She’s also the presenter of Crimecall, the monthly check-in and update with An Garda Síochána, a show that is also getting significant viewing figures these days. In many ways, the pandemic has had to be business as usual for the Dubliner, who grew up in the northside village of Malahide. “Well, the newsroom is like a different universe. The behind-the-scenes work that’s gone into transforming the place to facilitate remote working is phenomenal. Only a fraction of us operate on site now, everybody apart but pulling together in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible a few months ago. It’s particularly cumbersome for editors who have to make multiple phone calls in circumstances where before, a quick-fire question to the colleague sitting next to them would have done the trick.
“And the entire layout of the newsroom is different too. On any bulletin you need to be a close-knit team and that’s obviously difficult when you’re physically apart. Working on the Nine O’Clock News, you’ve two hours to turn around a bulletin. Sometimes you’re building an entirely new
I have no requirement to be liked or loved by the public. I want, of course, to be considered competent and professional
programme, so every minute counts and when you’re phoning colleagues that hitherto would have been sitting beside you, it’s hugely frustrating. “So far, a certain ‘esprit de corps’ has carried us through, buoyed by huge audience numbers (there were over 1.3 million viewers to the bulletin on the night of the Taoiseach’s St Patrick’s Day address), but there’s definitely a certain loneliness, a loss of connectedness, less banter, fewer water cooler encounters.
“But honestly, whether it’s a niche Leaders’ Questions audience or a once in a century event like the Taoiseach taking over the airwaves like he did on St Patrick’s night, it’s business as usual from my point of view.” Sharon Ní Bheoláin has made the headlines herself in recent years, with her comments on gender pay disparities, which kicked off a nationwide discussion on the topic and again in late 2018, when a newspaper ran a story about an incident over newsroom rostering. It’s not a position she is comfortable in and though loath to comment at all, she admits herself that it’s been ‘difficult’ at times,
“I’ve given my entire working life to RTÉ and it has afforded myself and my family a very comfortable life. You can’t put a value on that kind of security. I’m very grateful. I wasn’t expecting a bed of roses after answering that question on gender pay, but neither was I expecting what was to follow,” she says.
“Wasn’t it the late and very wise Derek Davis that said nobody emerges from RTÉ unscarred? I think he’s right, but scars are OK, they show you’ve been to battle and everyone should stand up for themselves and what they believe,” she says, as she closes any further discussion. Forthright, frank and funny off camera, does the ‘Ice Queen’ tag that follows her hurt a bit?
“You know, this ice queen business is a load of baloney: is it a male construct? Have you ever heard of an ice king? Do men get labelled cold or inscrutable? Was that label given to me because I don’t curry favour with the media? I don’t play the game; do fashion shoots, the ‘at home interviews’, therefore I’m a stuck-up ice queen, right?
“Wrong; I’m none of those things actually, I’ve nothing to gain by doing media,” she laughs, appreciating the irony.
“I have no requirement to be liked or loved by the public. I want, of course, to be considered competent and professional. I want viewers to think I provide an adequate service – they pay my wages at the end of the day. Do I want people to like me? It’s of no consequence, I want to be loved by those I love; my immediate circle of family, my few close friends and a handful of colleagues, for whom I have the highest regard. That’s all.” What has been a source of comfort in these challenging months? “Music is my sanctuary: opera, classical, sacred arias; Cecilia Bartoli singing Bellini’s Luna che Inargenti or Beata viscera Mariae Virginis from The Sistine Chapel. Music is my go-to for the wobbly moments, I challenge a troubled soul to listen and not be comforted, reassured that this too shall pass.”
And with that, she’s gone, there’s news to be read and a life to be lived.