When I read the text message that Con Deasy had passed away, I honestly felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach.
Con had played the Dame in Leixlip's annual panto for over 30 years. I had moved into Leixlip and after a few months I was still feeling a bit lost and thinking I had made a mistake. One of my housemates invited me along to the local panto. I was a bit hesitant as "Panto is not my thing" but seeing as I had nothing else to do, I decided to go.
That night changed my life. I fell in love with the colour, music and energy that was bursting from the stage. And the main source of this energy was the inimitable Con Deasy. I joined the group for their next show and the rest, as they say, is history.
How does one do justice to the craft or rather, pure genius of Con?
Much has been said about how he was a bundle of nerves every night before going on stage. In fact it became a simple fact that if you were moving about backstage during a performance, you always kept an eye out so as not to trip over Con, who was probably hidden away in a little nook, going over his lines. It didn't matter if it was opening night or the end of a run, Con would be in the wings, script in hand.
But when he swaggered onto the stage, hoisted up his "boobs" and announced "Coo-ee" to the audience, the magic began.
Many people mistakenly think that panto is the easiest of the theatre forms to perform and that playing the dame just means putting on a frock and uttering your lines in a high pitched voice.
MISTAKE, BIG MISTAKE!
Con was the standard against which all other dames were measured...and found wanting.
There is one thing that I don't like and that's a dame that acts as if she is taking part in Ru Paul's Drag Race. Con never played it that way. He was a man in a frock and a wig and he was perfectly at ease there. But more importantly, after just one scene, it didn't matter if the Dame was male or female, a man in a dress or a woman with a very deep voice, it was irrelevant. The audience fell in love with the character that Con created. She was always a little rough around the edges but with a heart of gold.They laughed with and at her, kids screamed in delight at the slapstick comedy antics and adults chuckled at the many jokes that flew way above the heads of the children.
Slapstick scenes were his forte. My favourite has to be "The Operation" in one of my earlier pantos. Con/Nursie was performing this operation which involved pulling various props out of the poor unfortunate "victim", lying prone on the table. It ended with Nursie stitching him up to the strains of Tommy Makem's song "The Cobbler". On opening night the scene was about 3 minutes long. By closing night it was probably nearer to 8! Every night Con included more and wackier props. But it wasn't something ad-lib that he was doing. He had every new item rehearsed in his mind and his timing was always impeccable. Unfortunately he never told the actors who were sharing the stage with him, what was actually going to happen! They had to be on their toes for every eventuality. In fact, if you were lucky enough to share a scene with him, you were trained by a master.
Off stage Con was the embodiment of a gentleman. He had a word for everyone, from front of house to backstage crew. He always went out of his way to make every new member feel welcome.
Con bore his illness with dignity, courage and of course, a wicked sense of humour. When he was told that his medication was being changed, he asked
"But will I be able to play the piano?"
"Of course you will", assured his doctor.
"That's great. I've always wanted to be able to play the piano!"
Anyone who knew Con is united in a huge sense of loss.
I like to think that Con has been fast tracked into heaven, swaggering in through the pearly gates, having a look around and announcing
"Oh coo-ee God. I'm here. Where are you hiding?"
And the choirs of heaven, all the angels and saints shout back in unison
"He's behind you!"
Go grasta De ar a anam dilís
