The night brilliant Jon Kenny brought the house down in Cork

When we bought the GAA pitch in Rathcormac, we organised a festival for a few years as part of a massive fund-raising campaign. Marquee dancing was still going strong and for four or five years the festival was a good money-spinner.

In 1980, I was secretary, and for some reason that I now can’t recall we booked a band called Gimik.

I recall at one stage they were managed by the late Stephen Collins from Killeagh - maybe ’twas through that East Cork GAA connection we got in contact with Jon Kenny & Co. 

I think there were three of ’em in it at the time. Looking back now, I think they fit into the genre of ‘crossover’ between glam rock/punk rock and folk - we hadn’t a clue what those words meant!

They were certainly a bit different from Brendan Shine, Donal Ring, Tommy Drennan, Tony Stevens and the Cotton Mill Boys! - we had all these bands at different times.

You may be sure Gimik were different - very different. They attracted a handy enough crowd, I recall, and people were certainly talking about them for weeks afterwards!

That’s when I first met a fella from Hospital, Co. Limerick, called Jon Kenny. 

Being a John myself, I just presumed someone had forgotten to put the ‘h’ in his name, but no, Jon was his name and that was that.

The first impression I had of this half-cracked fella was the way he could ‘use’ his eyes.

Those eyes could tell a tale, spin a yarn, recite a poem or bring floods of tears.

Since that initial meeting in the summer of 1980, I’ve been a fan of Jon Kenny and am so sad and go brónach these days after his death recently.

I know, I know Jon, wouldn’t want languid, morbid and melancholy utterances after his departure, but he was such a talented and truly brilliant person.

Back in the summer of 1980, he was a lucky boyo that we didn’t get him arrested and locked up during his visit Brideside! 

On stage (pallets with boards on top) in the marquee, Jon and his bandmates – I think three, perhaps four in total - jumped around and played a multiplicity of instruments. 

His reggae version of the Spancil Hill came out years later but lads, on that sweaty, balmy July night 44 years ago, Jon Kenny was wired to the moon.

At one stage during some raucous rendition of a Meat Loaf song, Kenny left the stage and ran down to the middle of the dance floor. Then, like a fireman in reverse, he shinned up the 30ft main pole of the marquee - no fear of splinters!

We were all mesmerised looking at this singer elevated above us, swinging like a musical Tarzan - and what had he in his teeth? A sharp knife!

As he neared the top of the pole, he brandished the knife like a Mediterranean pirate and he half-pretending to cut the ropes wrapped around the pole. If he did so, the canvas tent would come crashing down on top of us all!

Lord God almighty, we didn’t know what to do - someone suggested we get a sniper and take him out of it, but in 1980 the GAA Rulebook didn’t allow such a dramatic course of action! And we might get fined by the County Board!

Eventually, Jon laughed and began singing some rock anthem as he began his downward descent of the wooden pole.

I know, readers, what ye are thinking - what about the splinters now as he gained velocity in a speedy return to earth? And he only wearing a skimpy enough short ‘hot’ pants - all the rage back then! He arrived back to ground safe enough! 

We didn’t sign any contract with Gimik for the following year’s festival!

Down the subsequent decades, Jon and his irrepressible ‘foil’ Pat Shortt became the famous or infamous D’Unbelievables and had huge success here at home and abroad. 

I attended several of their shows but you’d be always in dread of your life that one of the two when rambling through the audience would stop and say, ‘Is it yourself...? Ah, you had a tough auld time alright. but you’re on the mend now… ah yes and that’s Bridie there with you - how are you Bridie, you’re after getting very strong (meaning ‘you’re woeful fat’) that’s right and are things OK now in the, em, you-know-what-I-mean department’.

Talk about being doubly and triply mortified!

Himself and Pat went solo, but often did a bit of a reunion tour as they forged separate careers.

Jon, with those alluring, amazing eyes, was a poet and doing a reading at Electric Picnic came as natural to him as doing slapstick comedy.

We saw him in Father Ted and only in recent years Jon and Pat had cameo roles in The Banshees Of Inisherin. 

Acting, singing or storytelling - it made no difference to him as his ability to create mood and atmosphere with a nod, a silence or a sideward glance was uncanny. He loved his craft and was a true craftsman.

Forty years after our near-death experience with the knife-wielding, rope-cutting rocker, I was lucky enough to personally encounter Jon again.

A few years ago, theatre fanatic and passionate drama man Jeff Gould decided to resurrect the old ‘fit-ups’ as they were known in days of yore. 

Long ago, travelling theatre groups would ‘fit-up’ a hall or a school and put on a play or a few plays and then move on to the next parish. Jeff has successfully resurrected this wonderful concept.

With mainly one-person and two-person shows at venues in the Blackwater Valley and in West Cork, we have seen Seamus O’Rourke, Michael Patric, Pat Kinevane, Timmy Creed and Sarah-Jane Scott tread the local boards. 

Four years ago, we were absolutely thrilled and overjoyed when we got the 2020 Fit-Ups Lineup.

On Thursday, January 23, the great Jon Kenny was coming ‘to a hall near you’, in our case Bartlemy Hall.

Crowman is a play written by Katie Holly, and Jon Kenny mesmerised us with his performance.

The ‘action’ takes place in a Spartan-like kitchen. The delicately-balanced one-man show glances deeply into the body and soul of a lonely bachelor, Dan. He absolutely hates crows and is forever trying to shoo them away.

Dan’s life is calibrated and punctuated by his attendance at funerals practically every week. They are important occasions, with the extra ‘bonus’ later on of a mortuary card in the post.

We laughed and nearly cried, at times all you’d hear was a sob in the audience. Looking at Jon Kenny on stage was like watching a sculptor or composer as they fashioned something special. Rural isolation and loneliness were depicted so well by Jon that night.

One minute we were stony silent, then, when he started playing his hilarious game of match the name with the 'mortuary card’, we were in the stitches.

It was a show one hoped might go on for three hours. The reaction at the end was just amazing and so very well deserved.

Jon Kenny was scheduled for the 2023 Fit-Up festival but ill-health forced him to cancel. 

We heard he was getting better and hopes were high we’d see the Hospital genius again. It was not to be.

Those eyes are now closed, the voice silent, Jon Kenny’s final curtain has come down. 

Thanks for the memories, Jon.