Jack Donovan and Pinkey Downey’s

An edited version of this snippet appeared in the Winter edition of the Irish Arts Review.

Not long before he died in 2014 Jack Donovan was asked by a friend if he was still painting. His reply was pithy: “Of course I’m bloody painting. It’s a disease, I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.” It was a disease that Donovan passed on to many a budding artist during his inspirational sojourn as head of the Limerick School of Art from 1962 To 1978. Two of those inspired, John Shinnors and Donald Teskey, are now in the front rank of Irish contemporary art. Shinnors saw Donovan more as an exemplar than a teacher. Rather than overseeing his charges, Donovan set up his easel amongst them and led by example. “To me and my fellow students, Jack was an artist who practised his art amongst us. His self-imposed presence was unorthodox.” Nudes, clowns and a penchant for the irreverent were Donovan’s stock-in-trade. The earlier nudes often came in the form of collage using images torn from ‘girly’ magazines. In the later work, his nudes were painted, stylised, candy-store pink creations - far from erotic. There was a darker edge to his early paintings, while his later style became positively playful – even when depicting scenes from the crucifixion. Nude in Bed from Pinkey Downey Series  in Morgan O’Driscoll’s late October sale featureda large pink nude typical of his later work except for the fact that the eyes are painted realistically instead of his customary black orbs. The Pinkey Downey referred to in the title was a well-known bar in Michael Street (not far from the Hunt Museum) that also operated as a discreet brothel. Donovan and his friend the poet Desmond O’Grady were regulars there. It would be cheeky to suggest that they sampled the full range of options available in the long-closed premises. However, the hat hanging on the far side of the bed is exactly the type that Donovan favoured. This prime example of the storied Limerick artist went under the hammer at a modest €3,000.

RWC 2023 - Regrets We Have a Few

 

This current Irish team is the best I’ve ever seen since started going to rugby internationals as a schoolboy in CBC Cork back in the early 60s. Perhaps we need another world-class prop and a bit more cover in the second-row but generally we have outstanding players in most positions. With New Zealand in rebuilding mode, South Africa and France seemed our only challengers. This was an opportunity for this team of all the talents to achieve sporting immortality. That this opportunity was not taken will haunt them to their death beds. The distorted nature of the draw was a factor - it stretched our resources and depleted our energies. And maybe South Africa, with greater strength in depth, husbanded theirs better. The closeness of the four top teams is illustrated by the fact that Ireland beat SA, SA beat France, France beat NZ and NZ beat Ireland. All by small margins. But even allowing for our limited backup resources, the defeat to New Zealand was avoidable but for a series of mistakes – some of which were inspired perhaps by Joe Schmidt’s intimate knowledge of our team. Our lineout was a mess and we couldn’t rely on regular clean ball from it. We didn’t seem able to counteract the NZ contesting tactics on the fly. I think James Ryan’s absence was a major factor here. Remember his injury removal for the latter stages of Leinster’s loss to La Rochelle in the European club final turned the tide in that match. The referee Wayne Barnes is an officious little prick, full of his own importance, and had clearly been briefed on Porter’s scrummaging style. Our boys should have been aware of this and adjusted accordingly. Losing all those early scrums and line outs sucked a lot of confidence and momentum from the team. The timely intervention from Jordie Barrett when it looked a certain try for Ronan Kelleher was a real killer blow. But still we hung in there. Then Murray gave away a silly three points for obstruction when there was no danger and Sexton missed a routine penalty not long afterwards. A six-point difference that would have given us the match. Even if one of those had not happened we could have been chasing a drop goal or penalty in those last desperate minutes rather than the required try. And then the ever-reliable Doris knocks on a routine catch near the NZ twenty-two when we are gathering momentum for a final surge. Thin margins, fine lines. And suddenly it’s all over. For ever. The Roundheads won - the brute pragmatists South Africa with their scrum-based tactics and their supreme defensive excellence vanquished the Cavaliers from France, Ireland and  New Zealand. One positive note - we were saved from having to endure more of that appalling song the team seem to have adopted. I remain unconvinced of the Cranberries talents but Zombie has to be one of their direst efforts.