MEMORIES of the Gate Theatre of the 1930s grow dim. The passing years break more and more of those precious links. The death of Cathleen Delany on June 19th removes one of the last of the principal players associated with the first decade of the Gate's existence.
In the early Thirties a talented young singer graduated from the Rathmines and Rathgar Musical Society to the "legit theatre". After her audition Lord Longford, then a director of the Gate, described her as "a cross between Helen of Troy and Paddy the Next Best Thing."
The Agamemnon of Aeschylus in 1933 marked the introduction to the Gate stage of the young Cathleen Delany, the girl with the head of clustering curls. As a handmaiden in that play, Lady Longford called her "a figure from an Attic funeral urn." For the rest of her life Cathleen Delany was to be identified with her beloved Gate Theatre.
Thrown in at the deep end, as was Hilton Edwards' wont, Cathleen very soon made herself an indispensable actress. From mad crones to the sophisticated ingenue, she coped with everything that came her way. She looked upon it all as valuable experience. She had another enviable advantage: she was a quick study, with a retentive memory that the years never diminished. With this facility she could be relied upon to switch parts in a theatrical emergency.
She was with Edwards/Mac Liammoir in their London season in 1934, and two years later accompanied them on their first Egyptian tour. On their return, with Betty Chancellor and Blake Gifford, Cathleen transferred to the newly-formed Longford Productions. This meant annual country-wide tours, playing in draughty, ill-equipped halls and staying often in uncomfortable digs. She didn't complain. Touring was part of that professionalism of which she was inordinately proud.
When her niece, Hazel, was born, Cathleen addressed the infant thus: "Baby, you and I are going to be great friends." Her words were more prophetic than she could have realised at the time. Within two years, and despite the demands of the theatre, she had the responsibility of rearing Hazel. And friends, and more, they remained to the end.
For the acting profession the coming of television opened new career opportunities. Cathleen delighted in learning the intricacies of a new medium. Soon she established herself as an outstanding character actress. The demand for her services brought a new lease of life.
Her most recent films include Troubles, December Bride and, of course, John Huston's The Dead, her greatest film triumph. Who can forget her quavering Aunt Julia rendering Arrayed For the Bridal to entertain her Christmas guests. Hollywood and The Dead were the culmination of a dedicated acting career.
Cathleen made her last stage appearance in May, 1988, on her return from Hollywood, when she played at the Gate Theatre in Joe Dowling's production of Fathers and Sons, Brian Friel's adaptation of the Turgenev novel.
A charming hostess, she loved to entertain. Presiding over a meal at home she wrapped her guests in a relaxed and genuine warmth. Fastidious in all things, there was one occurrence which always irritated: when she was served tea in a thick cup. "Ignorance," she would exclaim, "spoiling the flavour!"
Her funeral took place on the longest day. There were flowers and there was light and music in the church, but outside the elements wept as if in sympathy. Hazel reminded us of how Cathleen used to quote to her a poem written to one who had been adopted: "My child, you didn't grow under my heart, you grew in it." Sensitivity, finer feeling and a loving devotion, these were only some of the attributes of Cathleen Delany, a woman whose instinct was to give rather than to receive.
To her husband, John O'Dea, and to her niece, Hazel Roost we offer our sympathy.