THIS HAS been a sad year for our profession; Christopher Casson, Chris Curran, Charles Mitchell and now Conor Farrington. We treasure the memories of the performances given by these distinguished men. We consider ourselves lucky to have known them; privileged to have worked with them. And in Conor Farrington's case we not only have the record of his magisterial and sensitive performances, but we also have the treasure trove of his meticulously well- wrought plays.
There is deep shock as we reflect on Conor Farrington's life. The fact that he was a champion long-jumper at Trinity College, that he was a fearless diver, and how vivid is the memory of him cycling up Nutley Lane in the teeth of a westerly gale. It is a shock to realise that he was working right up to-the time of his final, terrible illness. That so recently he was on the stage of the Abbey Theatre with his friend and colleague, Daphne Carroll, in a riveting production of The Crucible. How he toured the country in another Arthur Miller play, The Price; that last June was only his 68th birthday.
After Trinity he toured India with the Kendal Family, playing Shakespeare. He won a Fulbright Scholarship to Yale Drama School and returned to Ireland in 1955, when he joined the RTE Players. It was always a great comfort for us younger actors to see Conor in the studio, especially with difficult plays. Any questionable facts, historical or Biblical or musical or horticultural, we knew would be put right by him - when asked!
For all the apparent diffidence and reticence, it was a shock to discover the depth of his passion and commitment; his radicalism, his humour. How many broadcasts were achored so securely by Conor Farrington at the Narrator's microphone! The abiding memory, of course, is the monumental production of Ulysses.
He is in the great, but fiendish, arduous tradition of verse playwriting, with Riobard O Farachain, Austin Clarke, Yeats; and as exemplified in England by T. S. Eliot, Christopher Fry, Auden and lsherwood. His lack of recognition must have been painful for him, yet he never stopped fighting, never stopped writing. And when the influx and influence of the Philistines finally became too overwhelming, Conor not so much retreated as decamped to toil in his own vineyard, from which springs his great trilogy of verse plays.
He was the embodiment of what it means to belong to the Church of Ireland. He transcended ecumenism. His belief embraced every aspect of his irishry. Conor Farrington's plays will triumph. And this is a great source of comfort and joy for us and should be particularly so for Patricia, who was with Conor so lovingly right to the end; for his son Liam, his daughter Taffina, his brother Brian, sister Una, stepsons and daughters Eoin and Shane, Jacinta, Siobhan and Corinne and his extended family.