WHEN the playwright, philosopher, and memoirist, Sean O'Casey, declared that "laughter is wine for the soul," his son Breon, the celebrated painter, jewellery-maker, weaver, print-maker and sculptor, was clearly paying attention.

Breon, who turned 80 on Wednesday, was in town with his jewellery-maker daughter, Duibhne, for the opening of his exhibition, and it would be hard to find a more modestly humorous and gentle man.

As the eldest of O'Casey's three children with wife Eileen, Breon grew up in Cornwall, along with his siblings Niall and Shivaun, after the disappointed playwright moved to England when his play The Silver Tassie was rejected by the Abbey Theatre, also, coincidentally, 80 years ago this week.

"I had a very happy childhood," says Breon, "and went to a series of schools that George Bernard Shaw recommended to my father, some of which were very odd, but delightful none the less. Mum was much younger than my father, and was still acting for a while after I was born. She was very vivacious and always laughing, and she called everyone "'darling'," including the milkman."

"My dad was a very good father," he adds, "and was always very interested in what we were doing. We played hockey, and he said one day that he'd teach us to play hurling, and brought us out to the driveway of our house. We never played it again, though, because he went wild during the game!"

Tragedy struck when Breon's younger brother, Niall died of leukaemia when he was only 20, which left the whole family devastated.

"My father was an old man by then, and it was dreadful for him," he says. "He was half-politician and half-artist himself, and, whereas I was artistic and couldn't give a damn about politics, Niall was into politics and couldn't give a damn about art. And really, I think my father saw Niall as his younger self, but with the opportunities that he didn't have."

Breon was always inter-ested in art at school, and made his first piece of jewellery, a brooch, in his metalwork class, thanks to encouragement from a progressive and talented teacher. Thinking that it might be easier to earn a living in the field of economics after school, he applied and was accepted to the London School of Economics.

"I felt the world wasn't run very well, and thought I could do it better," he laughs. "I ended up doing the comp-ulsory army service instead though, and, after that, I decided to go to a funny little French art school in London."

After studying at the Anglo-French Art Centre, Breon moved to St Ives, a small fishing town in Cornwall, where he met his wife Doreen who worked with the Air Force. She had been previously married and had one daughter, Alison.

Breon and Doreen married and had three children together -- Duibhne, Oona and Brendan. Breon earned his living by combining painting with working part-time for two sculptors, Denis Mitchell and Barbara Hepworth. His favoured subjects are birds, fish, nature, landscapes and the female form.

"Dad was always very modest, kind and generous and played games with us and brought us to the beach," says Duibhne. "It was a very artistic community, and we loved hanging around the galleries and seeing all of the people. We didn't visit Ireland a lot then, because money was a bit tight, so we only had a couple of holidays."

The family home is an old farmhouse with a walled garden and orchard, around which are a series of separate studios for sculpture, jewellery-making and painting. As he enters his ninth decade, Breon is still working as hard as ever, and his work remains ever-popular, despite the fact that he was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy 30 years ago, and is now confined to a wheelchair, a situation that he bears with characteristic good grace.

"If you're going to have one of the Ms, I'd recommend MD because it's not too bad," he says, referring to the other diseases, Motor Neurone and Multiple Sclerosis. "It's very gradual, and doesn't hurt, but it's just a bit of a bloody nuisance really."

Duibhne was interested in the jewellery side of her father's work from an early age, and loved the fact that he was happy to teach her to make simple things and let her work with expensive materials such as gold when she was young.

Breon says that she showed an early aptitude for the craft, one that he used to his own advantage.

"When you're making jewellery, you end up with odd beads that you keep in a box," he said. "I used to get Duibhne to make up some necklaces from these beads, and she put them together so well that I used to sell them as my own!"

Duibhne went to London at 18, and worked there as a librarian for 15 years. She married her husband, also called Brendan, who works for the probation service, and they have two children, Seamus, 17, and Eilis, 11.

They moved back to Cornwall four years ago, as they felt it would be a better place to raise the children, and, having previously been apprenticed to her father, Duibhne seized the opport-unity to return to her passion for making jewellery full-time. It was a fortuitous move, as she has enjoyed great success with her collections which feature rare and unusual precious and semi-precious stones combined with gold and silver. She is wearing her own necklace and earrings in the photo that accompanies this interview which was taken on Breon's 80th birthday this week.

Breon's other daughter, Oona, worked in art galleries initially, before taking up a career as a primary school teacher. His son Brendan writes plays and comedy, including sketches for the BBC programme The Fast Show.

"Duibhne and I work together one day per week, and she's very charming, kind and generous. And patient -- sometimes," he laughs. "I think her work is marvellous, and it's such a delight for me to hear the hammer going in the studio again."

Breon O'Casey celebrates his 80th birthday with an exhibition of paintings and sculptures at The Peppercannister Gallery, 3 Herbert Street, Dublin 2, until May 21. Tel: (01) 661-1279

- Andrea Smith