Who thought funerals could be such fun

Caffeine pills at the ready. A 72-hour arts-athon has been prepared for your delectation as Cavan Townhall goes under its much-heralded metamorphosis. It’d seem rude not to go to, at least, one thing. DAMIAN MCCARNEY this week caught up with the four midwives tasked with delivering the birth of the new arts centre: Philip Doherty, Siobhan Harton, Joe Keenan, and Sally O’Dowd to find out what they’ve got in store. It’s like nothing else.

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Lazarus famously rose from the dead but after he ran a comb through his hair and had a swig of locust juice he was pretty much the same oul lad who’d expired some days earlier. These days Cavan Townhall is also in its death throes but when it’s resurrected, the venue promises to be much much different - out with the fustiness of officialdom; in with an artistic spirit of adventure and experimentation. It’s cause for celebration - in fact, 72 hours of celebration and everyone’s invited. The eerie posters dotted around town with The Strype’s Josh McClorey as some Baron Samedi character has no doubt alerted its denizens that something big’s on its way.
The Celt wanted a dummy’s guide to what on earth (or under earth) was planned for the artistic resurrection. Surprise is a key element of the extravaganza, so some tarot cards remain under the collective sleeve of the four chief brains behind the project - playwright Philip Doherty and trio of artists Siobhan Harton, Joe Keenan and Sally O’Dowd.
Philip has collaborated with some acting pals to pen ‘The Thin Veil’; what he’s describing as a “musical spectacle”, complete with live band (Daragh Slacke, Shane O’Connor and Peter and Siobhan Denton).
“The story is about a 106-year-old man and his life flashing before his eyes,” explains Philip. “When people’s lives flash before their eyes, from some of the research I’ve done, it’s a very dream-like visual, very surreal. So, when we’re telling the story it’s going to be very visual, very musical, very spectacle-driven and very surreal.”
There’s a pause as he realises he’s forgotten his modus operandi... “and very funny,” he adds with a huge chortle.
The historically alert readers will quickly gather that the 106-year-old man, Frank, is a metaphor for the Townhall.
“Within the story I want to celebrate the Townhall and its life. It is the end of an era for the building as town council offices and more as a sort of venue for old-school community stuff that was happening in it and a new beginning as a full-time, professional, contemporary arts space.”
To explore who this Frank/Townhall is, Philip and the cast delved into the belly of the beast.
“We cleared out underneath the stage, which hasn’t been cleared out in decades, it was like a treasure chest of different artefacts - from old pantomime sets, to ballot boxes, to old street signs, life belts - all this stuff.”
These props inform The Thin Veil’s plot.
“We are telling this surreal, happy story, about his life and that’s the delight side of his life. However, in the story, the character cannot die until he faces up to his shadow self, so we are going to show his dark side.”
Philip hopes to use the play as a showcase for what the venue can be used.
“It’s great to have the freedom here to do some more ambitious work. We are really using the space as much as possible, so when people come in they will be excited by what can be made here - what kind of shows can go on. So, not just the normal theatre, where you sit on the seats and watch a play on the stage.”
In addition to a supporting cast of Teri FitzGerald, Keith-James Walker, Kate Gilmore (Irish Times Theatre Award winner), Philip takes on the role of Frank as a gasún and his father, Mel Doherty, plays Frank in his more advanced years. Anyone who saw the fantastically entertaining launch of the Townhall programme during last month’s Culture Night will remember Mel playing a bingo-caller.
“He just had to say three numbers,” recalls Philip, “but he milked it completely. He did about ten numbers. Then the next day he was saying ‘Aw I should have done this’. So, he’s liable to break into song at any moment. The less he knows the better.
“It’s going to be interesting being on stage with him at the same time and playing a younger version of himself. I think there will be a magic with that alone.”
The magic will continue as Frank passes through the thin veil and the Neon Wake begins. A room has been set aside to house an installation called ‘Bed’ by artist Jane McCormack, offering mourners an opportunity for more sombre reflection. The display is a ‘birthing and dying bed’, featuring hundreds of porcelain eggs laid out as if in a hatchery and illuminated by lights, which brighten and darken along with the rhythm of a breath.
Once respects have been paid, ‘mourners’ will shuffle into the front room.
Joe explains: “They come into the room where everyone talks about the person - ‘Aw sure they’re great’, ‘Remember this, remember that’, and there’s often music playing. We will have a coffin in it - without having an ‘Oh God, there’s a coffin in the room’. It’ll give it a feeling that ‘Oh, this is fun’. There will be a light contemporary twist to it.”
The wake will be the focus for the arts deluge.
“We are hoping that for the 72 hours we will have a performance on the hour every hour. It could be a five minute-performance, some people are doing an hour performance.”
Joe’s confident that with 40-plus dramatists, poets, musicians of all breeds, dancers, storytellers and comedians, they’ve recruited enough performers to sustain the ambitious challenge; even at say at 5am when even the hardiest arts lover could be suffering from poetry-fatigue.
“What I’m looking forward to is the sean nós singer and sean nós dancer and Irish music - stuff that wouldn’t be my thing, just to see it here as part of the festival, so it is all encompassing.
“It has that feeling that everyone is involved. We just want people to come in and say ‘Wow! This is the townhall and we’re still part of it’.”
While the Neon Wake continues, those swift enough to pick up a ticket can clamber aboard the Ship of Fools on Saturday, October 31. Musician Robbie Perry was behind this concept which evokes a 15th Century book in which a craft sets sail without a pilot on a voyage through purgatory and into paradise.
Natural show-woman Siobhan Harton needs no encouragement to big up The Ship of Fools: “It’s moving around the mindset of this man [Frank] - what would he think purgatory is? This is where we’ve exploded creatively - absolutely exploded .
“The audience is going to be brought on this journey - it’s going to be a musical feast, it’s going to be a visual feast, it’s going to be a sensory feast - everything’s thrown in there - really, really mind-blowing stuff.”
Given there’s a limit of 45 passengers on each of the Ship of Fools’ four sailings [7.30pm, 9pm, 10.30pm, midnight] and they will be treated to an extravaganza involving up to 150 performers - you suspect Siobhan’s not drifting into mere hyperbole.
The ship - AKA a bus, but “think Titanic-luxury” she says - will bring the foolhardy souls to a secret location. Met Éireann has confirmed that purgatory can be chilly in late October, so everyone’s advised to wrap up well.
“It’s not going be your spooky, scary Hallowe’en,” assures Siobhan, “it’s more surrealism as our inspiration for this one - think Salvador Dali. It’s a not-to-be-missed show,”
The ship’s passenger will then be brought back to the Townhall for a continuation of the revelry.
Sunday, November 1 - All Souls Day - will see the lid finally close on the epic wake and the funeral - a New Orleans style ‘Jazz Nightmare Parade’ get underway. To prepare for the family-friendly send-off, Sally O’Dowd explains there will be free ‘candy skull’ face painting in the Townhall, and dancer Jessie Keenan will give a few helpful tips to master that authentic, Louisiana-funereal swagger.
“We want people to come dressed as the dead and take part,” says Sally. “Jessie will show just a few simple moves that anybody can pick up, as we sway over and back across the town to the top of the Gallows Hill. It used to be when people in gaol were sentenced to death, they were hung up on the gallows - so what a perfect location! And from there you can see the Townhall.”
At the Gallows Hill the neon coffin will be set ablaze on a funeral pyre.
“This is a mournful procession to the top. And then a - WOO-HOO! Shake that boot-ty, hay-ends up in the ay-er! - on the way back down.”
“Once the funeral has happened we begin our fun celebration dance back down - all jazz, all dance!”
Alan D’arcy, who happened to have been in New Orleans last June, has recruited a 10-piece brass band to provide the tunes to generate a joyous mood for the Party of Rebirth - a celebration that gestation of the Townhall Cavan Arts Space is complete. “That is a ceremony for everybody to be part of - it’s a birthing session,” says Sally of a ‘surprise installation’ to the none-the-wiser Celt. “It’s a live session that everyone who takes part in the parade can be part of - it’s three people at a time; max.”
The free celebration will of course include even more live music with loads of bands on the bill.
“That will be us as the Townhall ready for action!” enthuses Sally. “We’ll be ready for our own funerals.”