Come Here To Me!

Evening Herald, 5 September 1991.

Anyone of a certain vintage will recall Thom McGinty, the King and Queen – depending on his mood – of Grafton Street, who brought colour to the very grey 1970s and 80s with his street theatrics and costumes. What is important about the story of Thom McGinty, who left us on 20 February 1995, was not only the manner in which he lived, but the manner in which he died. As a publicly recognised figure living with AIDS, he did much to challenge the stigma and preconceptions around those living with the disease, and his appearance on The Late Late Show remains one of the most groundbreaking interviews in Irish television history.

McGinty became as synonymous with the streets of Dublin as Bang Bang or Lord Mayor Alfie Byrne, but he was not a Dubliner. Born in Scotland in 1952, he arrived in Dublin from Glasgow in 1976, having been involved in theatre and street performance there. He himself later remembered that “I went to university to become a chartered accountant. I don’t know why. Anyway, I didn’t last very long there. I collected the grant for the two years and I got very involved in theatre.”  He took a job with the National College of Art and Design, as a nude model of all things, but quickly found a better calling, donning make up and costume and taking up a sort of residence at the Dandelion market, at the site of what is today the Stephen’s Green Shopping Centre. Thom became the ‘Dandelion Clown’, standing mute and motionless in the attire of a joker, and in his own words he was “a colourful pseudo-beggar.”

He retained a great grá for theatre in its more traditional form,  even launching a theatre company in the west of Ireland and taking to the stage in Dublin in a number of high profile productions, but street performances became his forte. The name Diceman stuck, and came from The Diceman games shop, which was located for some years on Grafton Street before moving to South Anne Street. They were just one of many Dublin businesses who hired him to promote their goods in whatever fancy dress took his fancy.

The legality of it all was up in the air, and sometimes he caused quite the scene, leading Gardaí to move him on. He developed a great routine of moving on at the pace of a snail, if not slower, which annoyed more than one on duty Garda but which crowds found hilarious. In his own words.  “I used to be totally still, but the guards said I was causing an obstruction and I thought I was totally fecked. So then the walk was developed to retain the statuesqueness and at the same time still be on the move. The walk is held up in Zen Buddist circles as the classic example of Zen walking.”

Often, Grafton Street was so captivated by him that things just stopped. While today the street is often occupied by buskers playing the same contemporary songs, this was wonderful because of its unpredictability. The great poet Brendan Kennelly nailed it:

Time and again, bang in the middle of Grafton Street, I have been happy to join other children gazing on this figure, either utterly immobile or moving with a slowness so perfectly measured as to be almost imperceptible. Thom McGinty’s magic has to do with his ability to mesmerise his audience, to lure them out of their busy city selves and to take them away into that land of perfect stillness where marvelous dreams are as normal as Bewley’s sticky buns.”

Costumes included the Mona Lisa, contemporary political leaders, Dracula, a lightbulb, Captain America, contraceptives…. one could go on and on. His manager, Aidan Murphy, often had the job of keeping the children of Dublin at arms length, who were eager to have their own fun. Nothing was too out there. Or was it? In September 1991, the Diceman was brought before the courts, charged with wearing an “indecent costume”. The offending piece was a Rocky Horror Picture Show costume. God help the Guard who had to stand up in court and proclaim that the Diceman’s “buttocks were clearly visible and the only thing covering his genitals was a G String.” The Diceman described himself in court as ‘Living Art’, showed up one day wearing a purple jump suit, and pledged not to wear the offending outfit again – the judge decided to use the Probation Act. The newspapers had their fun, with the Irish Press headline of the day saying “Diceman’s Fishnets an Offence to Decency.” The actor Tom Hickey came to the Diceman’s defence in court, saying you’d see more underwear in the Dublin City Marathon.

Irish Independent, 5 September 1991.

His final performance, if you will, was his own departure. His friends took turns to carry his coffin down Grafton Street in February 1995 when Thom lost his courageous battle. The Irish Independent reported:

The bustling street that served as his open air theatre for a decade came to a complete standstill as the coffin of Thom McGinty glided slowly down the crowded streets on the shoulder of his friends. When alive, he intrigued and amazed with his ability to stand utterly still, or to walk in a theatrical slow motion. Now it was his grieving public that stood so still as his cortege moved past in sad slow-motion. The silence was broken twice the street erupted with spontaneous applause. Five storey’s above the street, construction workers removed their yellow helmets as they watched the scene below.

 It sounds funny to say about someone who spent their life dressing up as so many different characters – but the Diceman was always himself.