Life’s final audition

ANOTHER old soldier chose to fade gently away last week, a legend from an era when the magic of theatre was as vivid as it was spellbinding.

Dan Donovan, a renaissance man like they don’t make anymore, took his final bow on life’s stage before ascending, one hopes, to the great audition in the sky where every actor plays a leading role.

A pioneer of many of Cork’s major cultural initiatives including giving John B Keane’s

‘Sive’ a stage when others demurred, he managed to harvest that almost impossible thespian double act of respect and friendship in all who knew him.

We met last year, his mind still sharp as a tack at 90, and I listened to theatrical tales from the 1940s and 1950s. “Back then, first nights had an atmosphere of excitement and elegance that was so rare during those deprived post-war years. The theatre allowed people to put on what finery they possessed and live in another world for a few hours.”

He remembered vividly the night the city’s iconic Opera House burnt down in December 1955. “We all stood as close as we could, watching this fine old building where so many wonderful moments of our lives had happened just literally go up in smoke. As a metaphor for the transience of life, it didn’t come any clearer.”