I had many interactions with Davy Holohan. Our friendship began during innocent schooldays and remained constant as we navigated life. On a regular basis, over cups of black coffee, we would chat, discussing world affairs and the mundane frivolities of life. We occasionally disagreed but were never disagreeable. Regularly, I would meet Davy as he strolled around the city streets. On these occasions, our casual conversations would be interrupted by a myriad of people greeting Davy with salutations and courteous interactions. He loved these humorous asides and revelled in the banter.
Exhibition Plans
Prior to Christmas, he phoned and we arranged to meet for a coffee at The Butler Gallery. He was full of happiness and enthusiasm, having been informed by management at the Mayfair Library that he had been allocated a space to host his 2026 exhibition. Huge excitement permeated the room as we began to plan the launch.
Davy was enthused and inspired, consumed by the forensic details encapsulating the launch.
He mapped out the components with precision. He had chosen the person to launch the exhibition and was delighted that the local singer, John Travers, had agreed to provide music.
By early January, Davy had the guest list compiled and the invitations were prepared for the printers. Visits to the Mayfair Library became a regular event, as Davy carefully studied the layout and chose the appropriate position that best suited individual exhibits.
Awful News
Then came the awful news of Davy’s unexpected passing. His accidental death was a devastating bombshell that shattered the fabric of certainty and left Kilkenny and the wider artistic community bereft.
“In spite of everything I will rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing.”
These words of Vincent van Gogh resonate across the years, showing the consistency of the artistic temperament. Today, we acknowledge that these words encapsulated the life of Daithí Ó hUallacháin, the artist.
A son of Peig O’Brien from Greenshill and of Johntown’s Eddie Holohan, Daithí has a wide and varied CV. Having attended Kilkenny CBS Primary School and CBS Secondary School, he made his first foray into employment as an apprentice goldsmith with Rudolf Heltzel. Traditional values resonated, and he spent a year in Connemara studying Gaelic language and culture. He did a pre-diploma course in the National College of Art and Design and then completed his studies in the Fine Art Department under the guidance of faculty head Campbell Bruce. He was awarded a scholarship to Minneapolis College of Art and Design. He taught Life Drawing in Liberties Vocational School. Daithí’s community spirit saw him actively involved in mural projects in Bishop Birch Place, Millennium Court and Loughboy Library. His involvement as Artist in Residence with Kilkenny Collective for Arts Talent was a satisfying and emotionally rewarding experience.
Talent
Daithí, often to his own detriment, was fully committed to his artistic endeavours. With a substantial body of work, recognised nationally and internationally, Daithí established himself as one of Ireland’s foremost talents. Since the 1970s, Daithí has successfully exhibited, bringing his creative work to the public.
Recently, I launched one of his exhibitions and had reason to study his catalogue of work. I was enthralled and amazed at the diversity of his art.
His still life Pipe Scissors Plant 1985 is a simple production and, to me, tells the story of a man carefully tending his favourite pot plant. But a friend viewing it saw a woman wistfully tidying the house on the morning of her husband’s death. This facet is one of Daithí’s strengths: he allows your imagination to flourish.
Exemplary
As a portrait artist, Daithí was exemplary, and was perhaps its predominant exponent. Daithí treated his subjects with humanity, highlighting its depth and subtlety. Kathleen 1994 emits calmness, thoughtfulness and serenity. Shauna 2009 exudes love, innocence and hope. But in his self-portraits, Daithí displays a spirit besieged by shadows. Through his honest introspection, he facilitates our intrusive inspection. Their honesty demands our respect. The surreal images reveal the elemental battle of a tortured psyche. The portraits haunted and fascinated me.
Perusing Daithí’s work, I am reminded of one of Patrick Kavanagh’s short poems:
‘No charlatan am I
With poet’s mouth and idiot’s eye:
I may not be divine
But what is mine is mine
In naked honesty.’
In later years, Daithí’s work had become more fluid, and that allowed a vibrant intensity to explode from his canvas. No longer confined to a single form, the freedom engendered is celebrated in his enthusiastic labours. As he aged, had Daithí settled into a calm, controlled individual? I think not! I agree with Friedrich Nietzsche, who said, “You must have chaos within you to create a dancing star.” With over a thousand drawings in his portfolio, Daithí has bequeathed a galaxy of dancing stars for our discernment and enjoyment.
Spirituality
There was a spiritual dimension to Davy that was integral to his existence. Perhaps this quality radiated from his artistic persona as he communed with nature and delved deep to deliver creativity. Allied to his spirituality, and perhaps unknown by many, Davy was a deeply religious person. He regularly attended church and was a devout Catholic. He often dropped into St John’s Church to sit quietly and connect with the sacred. Since Fr Dan Carroll inaugurated the annual St John’s Parish pilgrimage to the Knock Shrine, Davy always participated and embraced the spirit of the occasion.
Understanding
Perhaps it is understanding that Daithí had mastered. Speaking of his daughter Shauna’s pragmatic decision to forego her artistic leanings to pursue a career in accountancy, Daithí was relaxed: “If the art is strong, it will find a way — but I just want her to be happy.”
And that happiness manifested itself when, just two months ago, Shauna and her boyfriend David married. It was a very proud day for Davy as he walked Shauna down the aisle. He may not have told everyone in Kilkenny about the wedding, and what a special day it was, but he told most. He was particularly amused that his son-in-law was called David. “She chose well,” Davy said.
Observing Davy over the years, I watched as he courageously battled and subdued destructive demons. I watched his committed political position almost ignored. I watched him produce a succession of authentic work that brought him much satisfaction but little financial reward. Through all the trials and tribulations, through all the praise and acclaim, I wonder: did Daithí ever know happiness? As he speaks once more of his daughter Shauna, the austere persona relaxes and his smile radiates. Comprehension dawns. Shauna is what makes him happy.
Indeed, at the funeral Mass at St John’s, Shauna spoke of how people told her that her dad was very proud of her. “Let me say it very clearly, I was doubly proud of him,” said Shauna.
I was honoured and privileged to know Davy Holohan and to share a small part of his remarkable life. The French novelist Émile Zola could perhaps have been speaking of Daithí Holohan when he said, “If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, will answer you. I am here to speak out loud.” Daithí Holohan’s voice reverberates across the land, and those of us living at this time are indeed fortunate to have witnessed his genius. May Davy, who carried many burdens, now find eternal rest and peace. We also remember Davy’s brother Ned, who died recently. Sincere condolences to family and friends.
Ger Cody
Deep in your pillow
Lay your head deep in your pillow,
Wipe your tears from off your face,
Feel the empty space there beside you
and wonder who has taken your place
I saw her last Friday morning,
She seemed to be doing fine,
Laughing and talking with a stranger,
But it could have been the effects of the wine.
Lay your head deep in your pillow,
Wipe your tears from off of your face
Feel the empty space there beside you
and wonder who has taken your place
Was it just that you couldn’t hold her
Did she get tired and leave
There’s plenty of fish in the ocean
But for the one who is leaving, you grieve.
Lay your head deep in your pillow,
Wipe your tears from off of your face
Feel the empty space there beside you
and wonder who has taken your place.
From the poetry book ‘Pictures and poetry’ produced by Daithí Holohan and Jim Murray
