As he continues to plot his entertainment career, Daniel Kyri has already reached some historical milestones.
The Chicago-born actor first became a breakout star on Chicago Fire, joining the still too-short list of Black queer characters on network television and making history as the first openly queer Black firefighter on primetime TV.
His beloved character Darren Ritter on the hit TV show helped strengthen the continued power of visibility. But after seven seasons on the popular show, Kyri is entering an exciting new chapter in his acting career.
Kyri has returned to his theater roots to take on one of the most acknowledged theatrical roles of all time — Hamlet.
In a bold new immersive audio adaptation of Shakespeare’s classic, Kyri steps into the complicated mind of Hamlet—quite literally. Make-Believe Association’s recently released six-episode adaptation of Hamlet uses binaural technology to bring listeners directly inside the title character’s mind. It’s in this project that Kyri gets to skillfully and creatively reimagine this traditional work from his unique perspective.
Native Son caught up with Kyri to talk about what it means to take on the role of Hamlet as a Black queer man, how his hometown of Chicago continues to shape his artistic voice, and why music, acting, and community are all integral tools in his radical path of self-expression.
NATIVE SON: You made history on Chicago Fire as a Black, openly queer firefighter. Looking back after seven years, what did that role mean to you, and what are you carrying with you from that role into your next chapter?
DANIEL KYRI: What I’m carrying with me is the skillset that I picked up along the way. Chicago Fire was my first big set. For any project that is operating at that level, it’s huge. I’m taking out of that experience a lot more confidence than what I entered with. That’s definitely a blessing.
When I first started doing the show, I had these antiquated questions in my head about how to successfully have an acting career as a Black queer man. I say antiquated because my own thought processes were antiquated. I was wondering if there’s a place for me to authentically be myself and also find the level of success I’m going later in my career. Now that I’m on the other side of that journey, I face my fears down and in a lot of ways kind of “came out” on that show, in terms of a larger audience.
I would think, what if I came out and my character’s gay and with this audience, targeted towards middle America, I don’t get the kind of reception that other characters get? Things I have no control over. The warmth I encountered helped me to understand and see myself and to be able to move through life more confidently and more boldly. I don’t actually want to do this job unless I can show up as my full self. I am a good artist and good creative not in spite of my queerness and blackness but because of it.
In terms of making history. I’ve got more history to make. I was the only Black, gay firefighter on television. That is something that I even lost sight of over time. That kind of moving of the needle is something that I’ll always strive towards.
You are from Chicago originally and spent seven years on a show anchored in Chicago. How does your city show up in your work and in you as an artist?
I’m from the south side of Chicago. I have been stopped by the police. I’ve seen the effects of gun violence and food deserts in my community. I have that all baked into my DNA. A lot of my peers didn’t have to deal with that. There is a unique set of experiences I gained being from Chicago. Footwork and house music live in me. There’s a vibrant DIY scene in Chicago that I was part of growing up. That’s also part of my Chicago experience. I went to school in Chicago.
I have all these chapters, iterations, reincarnations of myself that I’m excited and emboldened to no longer have to compartmentalize. I went through a very grueling and traditional, and by traditional I mean white, theatrical training in undergrad. At the time I was in school, a lot of their edicts were about stripping down the actor, taking away the things that make us unique or special. I struggled with that for so long because so much of that was kind of, not to get too hyperbolic, beaten out of me. I left school to then hear in auditions that I’m not Black enough. So you’re left wondering — what was I in school for if they just took away all the things I had naturally that actually helped my ability to tell stories? I’m always going to be a queer, Black man from the south side of Chicago and I’m excited for that to show up in my work and in my voice.
You’ve now taken on one of the most iconic roles in theatre, Hamlet, in a new immersive audio production. What drew you to this type of production of Hamlet, and how did acting through solely sound shift how did you approach the role?
You’ve now taken on one of the most iconic roles in theatre, Hamlet, in a new immersive audio production. What drew you to this type of production of Hamlet, and how did acting through solely sound shift how you approached the role?
Every actor can develop an appreciation for Shakespeare. It’s so foundational and fundamental to a lot of the things we do and how we approach the work. You learn the rules of Shakespeare, the iambic pentameter, the tool of direct address when you’re with a live audience. There’s this constant act of translation, which is something that as storytellers we are always involved in. It’s all about how people communicate and not just communicating with what they are saying.
No matter what production I’m doing or what stage I’m on, I will always have my point of view and my perspective that I bring to this work that was created over 400 years ago. That is the most powerful tool I have at my disposal to breathe new life into this text. Taking that and grounding it, making it current, making it present, and hooking someone in the audience in who is listening. It’s alchemy when it happens the right way.
That has always been the thing that makes me return to Shakespeare. Playing with the idea of who has access. That question always haunts me when I’m approaching Shakespeare. From the audience’s perspective, can I understand what’s happening? Can I understand what you’re going through? Can you shed light on a part of the human experience that I can relate to? My goal is to make it as accessible as I can. That’s what’s exciting about this production of Hamlet and this audio-only medium. Everyone has a phone. The ability for this production to reach past the traditional confines of the more ephemeral theatrical setting is exciting. It’s so retro in many ways, the audio drama. But it is in a lot of ways the future as well because of its potential to reach.
It’s never been done this way because it’s all singularly from Hamlet’s perspective. It’s a stunningly different problem to have to solve. Yes, he’s unraveling and losing his mind. But also he kind of isn’t. He’s depressed and morose. My approach as an actor was that this is a man who has lost his father. So it’s about going back and building the relationship from there. What are the missed opportunities and things he wished he could’ve said or done? That’s the personalization of it. Then what our sound designer Mikhail Fiksel has done to bring people inside his skull is so astounding to me. Even the way we created it. It’s like motion capture — but for audio. I was rigged all over with microphones. We would literally stage scenes in the studio so that the listener is directly inside of Hamlet.
This season feels like a creative one for you — TV, theatre, and music. You’re releasing an EP called Childish Games this summer. What can we expect from your project and how does making music fit into this new chapter you’re stepping into?
Music provides me with a sense of agency that sometimes acting does not provide. With acting, you’re expected to do the role, do the job you are hired to do. The project that I’m releasing is very personal to me. It’s about relationships. It’s about your relationship to self, to your habits, to other people. In the titular song “Childish Games,” there’s a monologue I wrote at the beginning about this experience I had in a relationship where it became toxic. One of the things that really stuck with me was that we were two Black men trying to love each other without instruction, without knowing how, and also starving for self-love. The way that those things manifested within that relationship changed me, him, my world. There was a lot of healing that to be done but there was also a lot of learning.
Sometimes the universe introduces us to something or someone with the intention of evolution and growth. I certainly have evolved since then. This project chronicles that journey. Each song is a different stage of relationship. A reclamation of self exists there by the end of it. I just want it to be real and honest. It’s a way of introducing anyone listening to me and my humanity. It feels good to be bold and brave and to put myself out there, knowing that I might get judged. What matters is my relationship to my inner artist and expressing this part of myself and having complete agency in the way that it’s done.
You, and many other Black queer artists, are moving creatively without restrictions. You act, you write, you sing. Why’s it important for Black queer artists to not feel restricted to one lane?
There is a certain level of flexibility that you have to have as an artist. It prevents you from getting stuck. There is so much more room and space for people like us. Sure, it’s a job. It’s a career. More importantly, it’s a calling. If you are called to create, you have to do it. That’s the most important reason for us not to not put restrictions on ourselves. So you’re not trying to whittle yourself down or squeeze into this tight corner that people are trying to back you into. The only way that people like us are going to be able to fully express ourselves is if we are flexible.
I love acting. I love music. I love to dance. I love good writing. There’s this clip of Andre Leon Talley where he says, “My eyes are starving for beauty.” And I’m starving for good stories. I seek them out. If there isn’t space for us, we’re gonna make it. That’s our history. I want to do that and be that for me and my community.
We are moving within such a complicated political and social moment. Where are you sourcing your joy and inspiration as a Black queer artist?
My community. I have been so lucky to be able to attract people who are likeminded and not necessarily on every front. That’s how you grow and expand. There is an element of care in my life that keeps me held so I feel protected within community. I feel honored to be able to reciprocate that.
I’m so inspired by the ancestors. We have this rich history of freedom fighters and rebels and of standing up for ourselves. I’m choosing to narrow my focus on the courage of James Baldwin, Nina Simone, Lorraine Hansberry, Malcolm X. These were human beings who, like you or like I, said they must do or say something. The most spiritual moment of enlightenment that I’ve ever had was at a protest, being in movement with a crowd of people whose voices were part of the chorus crying for justice. I believe in the power of the people. If you are rooted in community, pay attention to the ancestors, then you can always find a source of inspiration.
