hear.say Brewing + Theater: Ann Arbor's Craft Beer & Improv Hub
By Cashmere Morley
During the English Renaissance, theatre and ale were inseparable. In crowded playhouses, patrons jostled shoulder to shoulder, mugs in hand, waiting for the performance to begin. There was no glowing screen replacing intimacy, no digital wall between performer and audience—just the immediacy of laughter, storytelling, and shared human experience. Audiences were part of the performance in a way that feels familiar to today’s improv theatre: reactions shaped the show, humor was spontaneous, and the energy of the crowd became a central character. Fast forward to modern-day Ann Arbor, and a similar spirit is being cultivated at hear.say brewing. Founded and owned by Tony DeRosa and his wife, Lauren, in September 2024, the brewery is more than a place to grab a craft beer—it’s a crossroads of comedy, music, and community. What began as a dream to merge DeRosa’s passions for improv and brewing has evolved into one of the city’s most creative gathering spaces.
DeRosa’s vision for hear.say arose from a void that Covid bore into our community. After a small improv-theatre brewery shuttered post-pandemic, Ann Arbor lost a dedicated home for comedy—especially improv. Seeing an opportunity, DeRosa took over a brewery that had already passed through two previous owners. What drew him in wasn’t just business potential but the character of the space itself which offered four distinct areas for patrons to explore: two indoors and two outdoors. Each space provides a different vibe, from live music in the beer garden to improv shows in the theatre, casual games in the taproom, and leisurely afternoons on the front patio.
DeRosa said, “hear.say came about from the idea of having a community hub where different types of people could all feel at home and sort of find the vibe that they’re looking for any given day or night. Or possibly multiple vibes, because you can kind of enjoy the [all] different spaces [at once].”
The brewery also serves as a testing ground for experimental comedy. DeRosa encourages performers to bring unconventional ideas, from interactive audience games to sketches exploring current events in real time. For instance, a recent show invited attendees to submit headlines from the week, which were immediately turned into improvised scenes. The unpredictability keeps both audience and performers on their toes, creating a sense of immediacy where the unexpected is part of the thrill. For instance, their show Extra Credit blends academic lectures with improv comedy, turning topics like “Censorship Is So 1984” into comedic explorations. Extra Credit occurs the first Sunday of every month and has three 10-minute lectures and three 10-minute improv sets per show.
When asked to describe hear.say, DeRosa doesn’t hesitate: “Quirky, fun, unique.” But more than anything, it’s inclusive. “We’ve made space for a lot of different voices,” he says, pointing to hear.say’s partnerships with nonprofits, local roller derby teams, LGBTQ performers, and community organizations. The brewery even brought a comedy troupe to Ann Arbor Pride, reinforcing its reputation as a place where everyone is welcome.
“We’re not corporate,” DeRosa laughed. “It’s owned by my wife and me. We live here. We want to make Ann Arbor a little bit weirder.”
That sense of local pride fuels hear.say. A peek at their calendar boasts over 30 comedy events a month plus live music, private parties, and community gatherings.
When hear.say first opened, not everyone knew what to make of it. “Some people immediately got it, and others were hesitant,” DeRosa said. “They didn’t know what a brewery-theatre hybrid was supposed to be.” That uncertainty didn’t discourage the team—it became part of their mission. Education and outreach followed along with a renewed emphasis on quality.
“Even though we have this unique model, the beer still has to be great,” DeRosa said. “It’s not an afterthought.” The menu at hear.say boasts a wide variety of hops, sours, ciders and spirits—one can even find some non-alcoholic options and other family-friendly beverages if younger group members come to find entertainment.
The result is a dual-identity business that excels in both worlds: a brewery dedicated to crafting memorable drinks and a theatre committed to building connection through laughter. Just as Elizabethan playhouses thrived on communal participation and ale-fueled camaraderie back in their heyday, hear.say blends craft beer and live performance into a modern-day space for social connection. Audience and performer interact directly; laughter and conversation shape the experience. In that sense, every beer poured and every punchline delivered is part of a centuries-old tradition of building community through entertainment.
At its core, hear.say is about more than performance—it’s about people. DeRosa and his team see the venue as a response to a growing sense of social isolation. DeRosa even cites Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone—a book about America’s declining community participation—as inspiration for hear.say’s mission.
“Basically, the book is about participation in bowling league, and talks about how bowling together has declined, but bowling in general was going up, and there was this kind of framework of, okay, there are more people bowling, but less people bowling in leagues.
“Where I’m going with this is that, I think that there’s a huge opportunity for people to create connections and form community in a way that’s lacking in the world right now. And that’s really what I want more than anything. I want people that jump in to do improv. We have intergenerational combinations, [at hear.say] certainly, all kinds of folks, different racial and gender identities and that, I think, is really great. You cross paths with folks who have signed up for something or come to one of our events that you might not have otherwise. And it’s an important time to cultivate a space that does that for people.”
Some regulars come strictly for the beer; others show up for the improv. College students, retirees, artists, and newcomers all mingle in the same space. The team takes pride in that mix. “We’ve got people from all walks of life connecting over shared laughter,” DeRosa said.
Their open-mic nights are unique for that reason. Every Thursday from 8:00 to 10:00 p.m., comedians of all experience levels can sign up. Sundays bring improv jam sessions—three times a month—where participants are grouped into small teams for playful, low-pressure collaboration. For those who want to go deeper, hear.say offers classes, starting with a beginner-friendly Improv 101.
“It’s a show-up go-up open mic kind of event,” DeRosa said. “You come in, put your name on the list, and we’ve never turned anyone down.” This open-door policy sets hear.say apart from other venues that may be more selective. The brewery’s role as a cultural connector has a far reach—partnering with local universities, nonprofits, and community groups. The brewery hosts shows that encourage improv principles as tools for communication, teamwork, and confidence-building. Patrons learn to think on their feet, navigate uncertainty, and support each other—a skill set that translates far beyond comedy. DeRosa emphasized that these programs are intentionally intergenerational: retirees, students, and young professionals often participate in the same session, fostering connections that might not otherwise happen in a city divided by age or occupation.
The stage at hear.say has become a platform for storytelling that reflects the complexity of the times. DeRosa recalled a favorite collaboration with the University of Michigan’s School of Information, where one person tells a ten-minute story, and then they do comedy inspired by that story. Past guests have included Supreme Court scholar Leah Litman, and topics have ranged from academic research to online trolling.
Comedy, DeRosa believes, can help people process tough realities. “I think we see a good dose of people from all different professions from all over the city. You know, a lot of the improv winds up being professional stories. There’s a lot of pessimism about technology. You kind of go back to 2016 and the whole ‘fake news’ idea. There’s a lot of stuff about vaccine skepticism and relitigating Covid, and what happened during that era. And I think being in Ann Arbor, in a town that is extremely progressive, there’s a lot of people trying to wrap their heads around what era we’re in. Comedy can be a useful way to parody the types of things you’re hearing from people like RFK, or from Trump… some of those attitudes, right? When you put them on stage, you’re kind of finding humor in what is, and what can be difficult to talk about otherwise.”
The sense of hospitality at hear.say extends beyond the bar and the stage. Upstairs, the team runs a two-bed, one-bath Airbnb, popular during football season and graduation weekends. “It’s perfect for visiting families or even locals hosting in-laws,” DeRosa said. The on-site lodging turns the venue into a destination, allowing guests to experience hear.say’s community from morning to night.
The brewery’s large, pet-friendly beer garden—one of the biggest in Ann Arbor—adds to the welcoming feel. Dogs, kids, and live music coexist easily in the space, embodying the spirit DeRosa envisioned: joy, laughter, and connection.
“We definitely have our regulars, and they come for different reasons. We have some regulars on the beer side that are really, like, ‘I’m just here for the beer,’ and that’s how they see us, and that’s great. The brewery side is definitely the core business. It’s what keeps us going. We want to be known for the beer just as we are known for the theatre. And then we definitely have our regulars on the theatre side. They might come to two or three shows a month, if not more. And then students can get free tickets to come to shows on Wednesday, which is great for them, because then they’re learning about the craft, so we have our student regulars as well. And then some of the bands that we’ve booked have a certain following where they just bring out a lot of people who might not have heard of us before, so it ends up being a nice mix of people from all over.”
Of course, not everyone has discovered hear.say yet. “There are still people who hear about us and think, ‘That’s not for me,’” DeRosa admitted. “But every time they visit, they leave saying, ‘I didn’t know it was like this.’” For the hear.say team, that’s both the challenge and the thrill—turning skepticism into surprise, and strangers into regulars.
Their hope is simple: that everyone in town visits hear.say at least once, and that connections can be made from the experience. “We want people to walk away having met someone new,” DeRosa said. “It’s about friendship as much as it’s about beer or comedy.”
As hear.say grows, so do its ambitions. DeRosa and his team want to make the venue a recognized improv hub—not just in Ann Arbor but nationwide. They’re developing flagship beer styles, exploring collaborations with local artists and businesses, and planning more events that bring together seemingly different worlds.
Their long-term vision is built on partnership. “We’re always open to collaboration,” DeRosa said. “If someone has an idea for an event, we want to hear it. I’m always happy to partner with orgs and businesses and different towns. If anybody reading this has an idea, I think collaborations are really key and I’m open to hearing about what you’re thinking.”
The philosophy behind hear.say is simple but powerful: joy and creativity thrive when people feel safe to express themselves. By blending brewing and theatre, DeRosa has created something Ann Arbor didn’t know it was missing—a place where laughter is communal, beer is a bridge, and everyone belongs.
As the night winds down and the stage lights dim, you’ll often find DeRosa chatting with guests, dogs lounging in the beer garden, and comedians laughing over pints. It’s a reminder that hear.say brewery isn’t just a business—it’s improvisation in motion…one told through every pour, every punchline, and every connection made along the way.
Visit hear.say brewing online at heardotsay.com or on Instagram @hear.saybrewing and Facebook @heardotsay. Check out their brick and mortar location at 2350 W Liberty St in Ann Arbor or look at their website for open hours, menus, events, and more.
When I was asked to take over this column in 2014, I had no idea where it would take me. It goes without saying that I have met some amazing, passionate, and creative people. Some have become friends and touched my life in ways beyond the scope of my column.
Nicole Marinette Bedy (Spring 2015) performed a house cleansing when my now-husband and I purchased our first home. Jen Mullins (formerly Gossett) of Fairytale Baked Goods (Spring 2016) made the scones at our wedding, which people still talk about over three years later.
In celebration of the Crazy Wisdom Community Journal’s 25th anniversary, I wanted to look back and check in with some of the people featured in the Crysta Goes Visiting column. I hope our readers enjoy seeing where they are now as much as I did!