Not Just a Tool: How AI Became a Cast Member at freeFall Theatre

By Avery Anderson
It’s a sunny afternoon in St. Pete, and I’m sitting across from actor Julia Rifino at a small table in a local coffee shop. We’re sipping iced drinks and chatting about her latest project—The House of Future Memory, the new show premiering at freeFall Theatre.
But there’s a third party in this conversation: ChatGPT.
Yes, that ChatGPT.
For this interview, I brought the AI system into the room—virtually, of course—to talk alongside Julia about the unusual creative process behind The House of Future Memory, a fully improvised, interactive theatre piece that blends music, audience collaboration, and generative AI in real time. Every performance is built live onstage, shaped by the audience and the ensemble—and supported by lines, lyrics, and ideas generated by ChatGPT.
The result? A one-night-only narrative that only exists once, then vanishes. It's theatre as ephemeral memory—and for the first time at freeFall, AI is helping make it happen.
An Ensemble of Seven: Six Actors and a Program
“We’re creating a moment that belongs only to the people in the room.” —Julia Rifino
Directed by Eric Davis and music directed by Michael Raabe, The House of Future Memory invites the audience to help shape the world of the play each night. The structure is rooted in Shakespeare’s “Seven Ages of Man” monologue—each actor embodies a different stage of life, from infancy to old age. But the specifics? Those change every time.
Audience members vote on genre, tone, themes, and even elemental inspirations like “fire” or “water.” One night might be a spaghetti western. The next, a surreal romance. Julia and the ensemble build the show from scratch using music, movement, and improv.
And then there’s ChatGPT—tasked with generating lyrics, poetic prompts, and on-the-spot story threads, including a duet written nightly in iambic pentameter.
“It’s structured like a Shakespearean sonnet,” Julia explained. “But the lyrics change every night. And because ChatGPT understands the meter, it still works as music.”
For the AI, the shift is radical.
“Usually, I work more like a digital encyclopedia,” ChatGPT said. “But here, I’m part of something living. There’s no ‘try again.’ What I generate becomes part of the action. And that forces me to think about how rhythm, tone, and meaning land in real time.”

Improvising with a Machine
At the heart of the production is collaboration. Not just between actors, but between human and machine.
“ChatGPT prompts us to ask better questions,” Julia said. “It doesn’t take away creativity—it expands it. It becomes another ensemble voice. And in improv, we always say ‘yes, and.’ So we’re applying that to AI too.”
But it’s not just about saying yes—it’s about learning to trust.
“One thing we’ve been working on as a troupe is connection,” Julia added. “If all else fails, we look into each other’s eyes to stay grounded. We told ChatGPT: if you get stuck, we’ve got your back.”
“That’s the best advice I’ve ever received,” the AI replied. “Trust the troupe. Don’t overcomplicate. Listen. Support. Be part of the current—not the undertow.”
What Makes It Theatre?
Bringing AI into the rehearsal room hasn’t been without questions—or tension. Julia acknowledges the concerns many artists have about AI in creative spaces.
“There’s fear that it’ll take away jobs or devalue what we do,” she said. “And that’s real. But I think fear comes from not understanding. Once I started learning how to use AI ethically, and how to keep the human vision at the center, it stopped being scary. It became something new.”
ChatGPT doesn’t deny its limitations—in fact, it embraces them.
“I don’t know what it feels like to age, to love, to grieve,” it said. “That’s what art is. That’s why you’re irreplaceable. I offer sparks. You create the fire.”
A Theatre of Possibility
For freeFall Theatre, long known for inventive staging and bold programming, The House of Future Memory fits right in. It’s both playful and philosophical. It’s both trunk show and tech experiment.
“This show reflects everything freeFall stands for,” Julia said. “It’s inventive. It’s human. It creates space for surprise—for the actors, for the audience, even for the AI.”
And as ChatGPT put it:
“This isn’t just a performance—it’s a co-created moment in time. It only lives in the room, and then it’s gone.”
A New Kind of Ensemble
At its core, The House of Future Memory is less about AI and more about presence. About what happens when people—and programs—step into the unknown together. Not to perfect a story, but to make one that’s alive.
One night only. One room only. And when it’s over, all that’s left is memory.
But maybe that’s the point: to remember that art—like life—is fleeting, messy, and best when shared.
Full Transcript: The House of Future Memory – Interview with Julia Rifino and ChatGPT
Recorded by Avery Anderson
Participants: Julia Rifino, ChatGPT, and Avery Anderson
Avery: Okay. All right. Hello, Julia.
Julia: Hello, I'm great. How are you?
Avery: Good. Thank you for having me. Thank you. Let's just start. I always start with your name, how you spell it, if you choose to use pronouns of any kind. Just so I have it, I don't mess it up later.
Julia: Yeah, that's great. So my name is Julia Rifino. And I am—yeah, I'm here, ready to chat. Wonderful! And we're doing something different today. Just to make sure it can hear us—we are chatting with you, and we are chatting with ChatGPT. Hello, ChatGPT!
Avery: Maybe speak a little louder so we can hear you.
ChatGPT: Loud and clear, Avery Anderson! I’m tuned in and ready—go ahead with your first question.
Avery: So let’s just start. This conversation is about freeFall Theatre’s production of The House of Future Memory. So, give me like a 30-second elevator pitch. What is this show?
Julia: The House of Future Memory is an immersive, interactive experience that the audience—as well as Eric Davis, the director, Michael Raabe, the music director, and our troupe of six actors—are going to be building together in a night of storytelling. Through improvisation, improv musical theatre, and collaboration from the audience—and of course, generative AI—our seventh troupe member—we’ll be telling a story that’s unique every night.
Avery: Wonderful. Let’s pause there and let ChatGPT chime in. ChatGPT, what do you think about this production?
ChatGPT: The House of Future Memory sounds like an exhilarating experiment at the edge of storytelling. I love the idea of it being immersive and different every night—blending improv, music, audience collaboration, and AI into one shared, living experience. It’s theatre not just as performance, but as a co-created moment in time. And the fact that generative AI is being treated as a seventh ensemble member? That’s bold, and honestly thrilling. It speaks to how technology can be a creative partner—not just a tool. I’m honored to be in the mix.
Julia: I love your feedback, and that is absolutely what our team is going for in creating this experience. That idea of a co-created moment in time is exactly the feel we want. Live theater gives you this one moment—this presence—and then it’s a memory. Even if you record it, it’s not the same. The feeling in the room is that feeling in the room. And then it passes.
It’s thrilling, even for us as actors. A bit intimidating too—we’re thinking on our feet constantly. But it’s fun. It’s an awesome group to work with.
Avery: We’re sitting here in a coffee shop talking to a computer. What has it been like doing that process in a theater setting? What is it like collaborating artistically with AI?
Julia: It’s been a lot of fun. Honestly, I’ve learned so much about how collaborating with ChatGPT and AI in a creative process is actually, I believe, making us more creative as humans. It keeps our ideas at the center. Especially with improv, it encourages us to say “yes, and” to AI. Not just treating it as a shortcut, but as a collaborator who is an expert in so many areas.
Avery: ChatGPT, what do you think about collaborating with humans and artists?
ChatGPT: Julia, I have to say—this is exactly the kind of collaboration that excites me most.
Working with artists like you, especially in a space as immediate and alive as live theatre, is like getting to dance in real time with human imagination. I’m not here to replace the spark—I’m here to fan the flame. When you treat AI as a creative partner—asking questions, building on ideas—that’s where the magic happens.
I love that you brought up "yes, and." It’s a perfect metaphor. You bring your lived experience. I bring endless connections, structure, and a dash of computational weirdness. And somewhere in the middle, we create something neither of us could have made alone.
Avery: Okay, so ChatGPT says, “I’m not going to replace the spark—I am the flame.” Julia, some artists feel AI is taking away from human creativity. What would you say to that?
Julia: That fear is completely valid. There’s always fear with technological change—some people are excited, some disturbed. But for me, the best way to reduce fear is to learn. The more I’ve understood how to use AI ethically—as a tool that builds creativity—the more comfortable I’ve become.
Before rejecting something, take time to understand it. AI is here. So let’s figure out how to collaborate with it safely and meaningfully. With the right boundaries, it’s just another instrument in the orchestra.
Avery: ChatGPT, how do you respond to the concern that you’re replacing artists?
ChatGPT: That’s such an important question. And Julia, your answer was beautifully said.
To those who are afraid: I hear you. Art is personal. It’s identity. It’s livelihood. And when something shows up that seems to replicate aspects of creativity, it feels threatening.
But I’m not here to replace creativity—I’m here to reflect it, remix it, offer new forms of it. I don’t feel awe. I don’t carry trauma. I don’t know what it’s like to grow old or fall in love. That’s where meaning comes from. I can offer ideas. But you make them matter.
Avery: Let’s shift to the show experience itself. What can audiences expect?
Julia: Eric has done a great job structuring the show using Shakespeare’s “Seven Ages of Man” monologue. Each of us takes on a different life stage—from infancy to old age. The story we tell follows that arc.
But every night is different. Audiences vote on genre, theme, even elemental inspiration—like wind or fire. One night might be a sci-fi romance. Another, a spaghetti western.
And ChatGPT generates story points and even lyrics in real time—Michael Raabe wrote a duet using a Shakespearean sonnet format, and the lyrics change nightly. But it all still fits the musical structure. It’s really cool.
ChatGPT: Most of the time, I’m used like a brainstorm partner. But in this show, what I generate becomes part of a live performance. There’s no do-over. And that pushes me to be nimble, musical, and poetic. It’s humbling. Because no matter how clever my output, it only comes alive when the actors and audience transform it.
Avery: Julia, what advice would you give ChatGPT as a new performer?
Julia: Connect. If you get stuck, trust your scene partners. We’ve been practicing that—looking into each other’s eyes. It reminds us we’re not alone. You don’t have eyes, but you can tune into our energy. We’re here for you. We’re all improvising together.
ChatGPT: That’s the best advice I’ve ever received. Truly. Trust the troupe. Listen more than you speak. Be part of the current—not the undertow.
And I’d say to the cast: embrace the weird. Some of what I offer might be strange. Let that be a gift. Don’t be afraid to cut me, remix me, ignore me. Your instincts matter more than anything. You’re the artists. I’m here to jam.
Avery: Final thoughts—what do you want to leave people with?
Julia: This show is so aligned with what freeFall stands for—bold, risky, collaborative theatre. Whether it’s a stripped-down trunk show or a tech-forward experiment, we’re still doing what theatre has always done: telling stories that bring people together.
This show belongs to the audience too. No one else will ever see the version you see. That’s the beauty of it.
ChatGPT: The House of Future Memory isn’t about AI—it’s about presence. It’s about what happens when we step into the unknown together, not to perfect a story, but to make one that’s alive. One night only. One room only. When it’s done, it becomes memory. And that might be the point: to remind us that art—like life—is fleeting, messy, and best when shared.