Category: Arts - Reading the Signs

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Paris - just like Crosshaven

10/11/2016

Crosshaven

The first time I noted the name of an architect engraved on a headstone was in Crosshaven on the Bank Holiday Monday last week – that is the name engraved as the designer as opposed to the resident.

We went searching for the headstone designed by Seamus Murphy, the only one in St. Patrick’s graveyard in Crosshaven. It was made to mark the grave of former labour T.D., Dan Desmond, who died in 1964. His wife, Eileen, took up residence in 2005, thirty years after Seamus Murphy died.

I very much like the form and the shape of the memorial – appropriate to the proximity to the sea.

Patrick McSweeney was Cork County Architect from 1953 to 1975. I find it interesting to consider how the interaction between two designers may have operated – each having to yield some element of the complete design that they regularly hold in a project.

Paris

Crosshaven

The Grove of the Brothers - Lost in Cloud

15/10/2016

PASSION PLAY – READ BY CÓNAL CREEDON

When I first read of ‘The Red City’ being the nickname for Gurranabraher, it stuck in the grey matter as a little nugget – relatives who had grown up in Mount Nebo had never shared that gem with me.

When I find a nugget, sooner or sometimes much later, other little bits of knowledge cling on as they float by, increasing the extent of information – those dots of knowledge forever connected, in my strange head anyways.

Red City makes an appearance in Cónal Creedon’s Passion Play – ‘This Could be Heaven’ is great to read, brilliant to hear, an experience to see arising from the dark, and well worth few moments yielding to your imagination.

This morning, heading down to Brian at the fish stall on the Coalquay Market for our surprise stash, we spotted that the Red City had yielded to the clouds.

Reason enough to prompt this ramble.

Reason enough to put out there.

Mick D was a census enumerator a few months back in the Red City. The official forms were ‘Gurranebraher’ whereas locals had ‘Gurranabraher’ – another riddle awaiting explanation.

…The main contractors for the project were Messrs Murray and Lane, Builders..Sand and gravel was supplied by John a. Wood Ltd. of Carrigrohane Road. Cooking and lighting facilities were provided by Cork Gas Company. Also involved were Swann’s of Knapp’s Square…..Hickey’s of Maylor Street not only supplied 2,500 tons of Portland Cement, but also 300,000 red roof-tiles. The colour of the tiles soon resulted in some local wag nicknaming the area ‘Red City’!!
The Gurranabraher Story – A History of the Place and its People – David McCarthaigh in association with Ógra Corcaigh (1997)

My city is a Royal town, dressed up in crimsons and gold. In the distance, through the mists of time and coal smoke I hear the cry of an Echo boy, the sound of men walking and whistling their way home from work to the Red City of Gurranabraher, the chimes of an ice-cream van across on Spangle Hill, the bells of some cathedral or other, the yelps of children from Roches Buildings playing ball along the road.
Cónal Creedon – Passion Play

“Can you imagine
the wall at the top of Bell’s Field
as the ramparts of the Alhambra?
Gurranabraher as the Albaicin?
Knocknaheenyas Sacre Monte?’
Gerry Murphy – Bell’s Field Reverie (from Muse)

Shortly after this the friars erected a small chapel high in the hills overlooking the city from the northwest in a place which became known as Cilleen na Gurranaigh – The Little Church of The Groves. The chapel itself was known as ‘Teampaill na mBrathair’, many years later, the whole area had become known as ‘Gurradh na mBrathair’ – The Grove of the Brothers, or Friars Grove. The time spent by the Franciscans in Gurranabraher is marked by the naming of a row of houses just below Barrett’s Buildings known as Friars Avenue.”
The Gurranabraher Story – A History of the Place and its People – David McCarthaigh in association with Ógra Corcaigh (1997)

Unique in Drimoleague – Beautiful

3/10/2016

Last Christmas, I spotted a notice in the window of the Irish Examiner advertising Unique Gifts. I was definitely not in agreement – if it can be repeated, can it be unique? I still believe that unique means a one-off, not repeated previously or repeatable in the future.

Working in construction, it is rare than one will see something novel. Every material and component now needs certification. Such certification process costs money and so it does not encourage bespoke, unique or special components. There are some, but they are rare.

The uniformity of construction materials falls in step with this age of mass production – this age when the new buildings and even a street in Cork city could be uprooted to or from many English cities. There are many chainstores selling the same products as in Birmingham or Manchester, quite likely in a building that is so similar to the new street or buildings in Cork.

It is as if we are reverting to restricted choice, back to the days of Henry Ford – any colour you want so long as it’s black.

I have a recollection of hearing a radio piece many years ago where the design by Frank Murphy of the Church of All Saints in Drimoleague in 1956 was complimented – quite possibly Alf McCarhy & Gerard Kennedy, but I cannot find online now. A few weeks back, I travelled to the church to photograph the plaque by Seamus Murphy. I did not expect to be there long.

I was there quite a while, appreciating what I saw.

I then remembered the radio documentary. I loved almost every detail and the choice of materials.

It is regularly mentioned on building sites that some issue does not matter as it will be covered by the plaster. Frank Murphy did not have that luxury as there was no plaster – at least not until they (subsequently, I presume) added a toilet block.

The finish on the blocks with quartz -like exposed aggregate is definitely not widely available. I suspect that the blocks and the special shaped blocks at window reveals were manufactured specifically for this project. The external blocks are different to the internal blocks.

What is unique anymore?

Plaque by Seamus Murphy

Plastering - all aspects covered. So true.

Seamus Murphy 1907 – 1975

2/10/2016

This morning’s update from Stair na hÉireann advised that on this day in 1975, Seamus Murphy died.

His work has prompted quite a number of blogs here before.

I have yet to upload and create a separate section of the work that I have photographed on my travels.

For now and for today, a slideshow of a selection of his work.

‘Today I know how to salute beauty’

24/8/2016

‘I have made a magic study of the good thing that eludes nobody.’ – Arthur Rimbaud

'O seasons, o castles!
What soul is flawless?

I have made the magic study
of happiness, which no one eludes.

Salute to it, each time
the Gallic cock sings.

Ah! I will have no more desires:
it has taken over my life.

This charm has taken soul and body
and broken up my efforts.

O seasons, o castles!

The hour of its flight, alas!
It will be the hour of death.

O seasons, o castles!
That is gone.

Today I know how to salute beauty'

Arthur Rimbaud

Cemeteries can be uplifting.

Sometimes it may be a nicely curved stone; an unusual inclusion on the memorial; or, sometimes just the shape. There are so many blog posts here prompted by what has been seen on headstones and in graveyards that I had to create a separate category.

Sometimes it can be the inscription.

Songs by Bruce Springsteen, Johnny Cash and Harry Lauder were all first encountered in a cemetery. Words and poems have been similarly found.

St. Eltin’s Cemetery in Kinsale recently continued with my education.

I did not understand the meaning of the inscription at the time. Nearly two weeks later, I still don’t, but I continue to love the term ‘magic study of the good things that elude nobody’.

The web has assisted my learning.

Arthur Rimbaud wrote A Season in Hell in 1873 when only 18 years old after the sentencing of poet Paul Verlaine, who had left his pregnant wife to have a 2 year relationship with Rimbaud, often tempestuous and lacking wealth. Paul Verlaine was sentenced to 2 years for shooting Arthur Rimbaud.

My uncle had worked in Aden over 50 years ago, selling insurance to British soldiers, I think. It was a name that entered my brain long ago and has there remained with a sense of intrigue.

Arthur Rimbaud after recovering at home in Charleville (the French variety, not Cork) travelled and settled in Aden dealing in coffee and guns – a story that has added to the intrigue.

I now know a small bit more about Arthur Rimbaud and A Season In Hell. I suspect it will be some time, if ever, before I have an understanding of the writing.

Remembering The Seanchaí

11/8/2016

2015

I have been to Gneeveguilla only once. Entering the village as the light was fading on a lazy Sunday evening, I never expected that it would inspire a streak of inquisitiveness that has led to very many dots of historical information that are now connected in my web of a brain. Neither did I expect that a year later, the visit would prompt a visit to the theatre for a very enjoyable performance.

Leaving my family behind on the Dingle Peninsula to enjoy a warm summer week, I returned to Cork to continue the struggle for the legal tender. I diverted to Gneeveguilla, a detour promted by a previous blog when I learned of a ‘Gneeve’.

The detour was profitable in feeding my hunt for grottos and postboxes before I arrived at the village where I was brought back to many evenings watching television in my youth. I grew up within 15 minute walk of Patrick St yet the stories of The Seanchaí were always watched and enjoyed.

A month later, visiting friends, I spotted The Apprentice on their bookshelf and it went on to my ‘To Find & Buy’ list – within months it was taken off that list, as were two other Éamon Kelly books.

2016

Within the last couple of months, the three books have been read and appreciated. There were not enough flysheets to accommodate the very many notes that I scrawled to remind me as to possible future (or past) connections to add to the web of knowledge. I prefer the flysheets to notes in the margin – time spent finding the page with the margin note has taught me that lesson.

There was quite a number of nuggets about people and places that I had blogged previously – Jerome Connor’s statue that he spotted in Washington; acting in the plays of T.C. Murray and adapted from Seumus O’Kelly; and, the tradition of telling the bees of family news to which Mikel Murfi first introduced me.

My interest in matters relating to Seamus Murphy was also stirred in that I learned that there was a one-man play adapted from his book Stone Mad and that Seamus Murphy believed that the lettering on Nelson’s Column was the best example in Ireland – I sense Donal Fallon’s book moving onto that list.

Gneeveguilla, Co. Kerry

Cork Arts Theatre

To Find Out More List

The three books have provided little bits of knowledge about so many things that I need to find out more (ever connecting).

I have enjoyed a pint in The Blue Bull in Sneem. It was Éamon Kelly who educated that The Blue Bull was a Synge Play.

I will need to return to Gneeveguilla to photograph the plaque to Mick Sullivan who was shot by Black & Tans while Éamon Kelly was in the adjacent school – the list of Civil War and War of Independence memorials ever growing.

There are many traditions that intrigued, sounded lovely or just demanded further exploring – families joined in butter; overnight fasting prior to receiving Holy Communion; family owning a church pew so those standing at back did not have funds to purchase and pay rent on pew; stopping the clock upon a death, as seen in Jean deFlorette; and the giving of a disease to another similar to leaving cloth on a rag tree at a Holy Well.

It also introduced words to me, many appear derived for Irish. These will keep me going for some time. The list is below but any education as to ‘gripe’; ‘hoult’; ‘fakah’;or, ‘roiseters’ would be welcome.

A Visit To The Theatre

This week I spotted that Jack Healy had a play based upon the stories of Éamon Kelly at The Cork Arts Theatre on Camden Quay.

Yesterday lunchtime was a magnificent hour spent listening, smiling, laughing and remembering.

More than halfway through the show, I was reminded as to one of my flysheet notes in The Journeyman. There had been quite a few different stories. Éamon Kelly in The Journeyman was writing of ‘In My Father’s Time’ – ‘We found that a number of stories told one after the other could sound episodic. There had to be a changing relationship between the pieces, and the links had to be carefully thought out to make seamless the fabric, which we hoped would be colourful and entertaining’.

My flysheet note was that the book, unlike The Apprentice which I found much more interesting, was failing to flow. Fair play to Jack Healy. With the benefit of reflection on my hour or so in the auditorium, the different aspects and stories flowed; and, the knitting of the stories was brilliant and of a manner that brought the occasion up to date.
I had heard or read of a few of the stories but the delivery, verbally and with actions, made them a new experience – I laughed even when I knew the punchline.

It is in the Cork Arts Theatre only until tomorrow night but is intended to travel later in the year.

I do recommend.

Concern for Patrick's Street Little Gem

28/6/2016

I look at the dog water trough every time I pass – always with a smile. The smile may be internal but it is still there.

I think it is a quirky aspect of the city, one that makes the city different from others.

I would have thought it warranted inclusion in the list of protected structures (listed buildings, as regularly known), but it does not appear to be.
I do not think it has been filled with water for many years but that does not diminish its attraction – to me anyway.

I spotted that a planning application has been submitted for a new shopfront. However, the drawings for application 1636914 do not show the trough in the exisiting or proposed elevations.

This could be interpreted in a number of different ways, depending upon your perspective. The innocent version would be that there is no intention to adjust the dog water trough and so no change is shown.

The not-so-innocent version is that, should planning permission be granted, there is no dog trough shown so it is not to be retained.

I hope that this possible interpretation is clarified and also that the sculpture is retained.

I am on a bit of a hunt for Seamus Murphy work at the moment. In Midleton recently, I went looking for Seamus Murphy piercaps but they are no longer on the one remaining pier. I also think a headstone was also removed when replaced with a different stone.

Seamus Murphy is so connected with Cork that it would be very sad day if the City Council, unintentionally or otherwise, allowed the removal of the water trough.

I would also reduce the time I spend smiling – and some may say that that is very short already.

Appreciating Demolition Dave

11/6/2016

I have long liked the idea of incorporating salvage material into new work.

Building materials from times past regularly were strong enough to last many lifetimes and had individual details that we do not get with current standardisation. I have managed to source one of the hoopers than I sought but I passed on the spiral stairs. The telephone box as a feature in the garden remains a dream.

A few weeks back, with the train departure a while away, I walked to Hueston and was very happy to spot this commemorative piece to Dave Conway.

Trying to find out about it did involve a few internet dead ends before I learned that Dave Conway was Demolition Manager involved in the LUAS project and the Railway Procurement Agency commissioned James Gannon to create a sculpted piece at Smithfield.

Does it not scream out to be caressed? Or is that just my sense of admiration?

Art - under your feet

4/6/2016

We spotted this outside Lime Street Station in Liverpool.

There were a good number of paving slabs with similar engravings.

I assume that they are computerised/automated engravings from original sketches.

I do like the image as well as the inclusion of co-ordinates. Anything that makes a streetscape, building or place unique is good in my opinion.

Compliance with regulations and need to meet CE, or I.S./B.S standards are such that I believe they are encouraging a small number of manufacturers and a smaller range of products in all construction materials.

It could be argued that shopping centres and main streets are similarly affected with stores from the same chains occupying the centres of cities - each city turning into a version of the other.

I am definitely fed up with standardisation. I have long since determined to support to support the local independent over the branch of the chain.

These paving slabs are just another reminder as to the value of difference and being unique.

I read of proposals for art on the pavings in The Liberties in Dublin, and smiled. Well done, The Liberties.

Crossing The Bar

23/5/2016

I suspect that it is not an expression that one spots regularly in a cemetery. On Saturday, I read the update from Epitaphs of the Great War about Lance Corporal Horace Albert Millard who had similar wording on his headstone.

The following day, I was at Old Church Cemetery (Clonmel) in Cobh. The cemetery has previously prompted more than one or two blogs. This visit was no different.

I was struck by the amount of Commonwealth War Graves Commission headstones in the cemetery. The CWGC website advises that it has the greatest number of war dead of any cemetery in Cork – 130.

I suspect that this was a factor of proximity to Spike and Haulbowline and also that those dying on board ship may be returned to port rather than buried in the field as may have been expected in the army. That is on the ‘To Find Out More’ list now.

There are inscriptions in Welsh and Belgian. There are a few members of Canadian regiments.

Among the many headstones, I spotted the headstone to Leading Signalman, A. Glazebrook. Alfred Glazebrook was born in Leeds and died in Cobh, 23 years later.

Crossing The Bar is a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. It was definitely new to me.

Go on and listen for yourself.

P. E. G. VAN DER VEKEN - GESTORVEN VOOR BELGIE - DIED FOR BELGIUM

R. G. Morgan - MEWN ANGHOF NI CHAIFF FOD - Their Deeds Will Not Die

J A Mahaney Newfoundland R.N.R.

W B Arnold, Canadian Infantry

Me Tarzan, You from Boyle

17/5/2016

I spotted this plaque when in Boyle, Co. Roscommon. I did not recognise Maureen O’Sullivan as an actress, neither the name or the photograph. I suspected that I had not seen any of the films in which she acted – I was wrong.

This morning’s update from Stair na hÉireann advised that she was born 105 years ago, on this day. She played Jane opposite Johnny Weissmuller’s Tarzan and one of her seven children is Mia Farrow.

There is only one house in Dromcolliher

3/5/2016

Last Wednesday, the daily update from Stair na hÉireann advised that on 27 April, 1911 the ‘first ever Irish musical comedy, The Irish Girl, written by Percy French and Dr. W. Houston Collisson, is staged at the Queen’s Theatre, Dublin’.

It reminded me of this plaque in Dromcollogher, Co. Limerick that I had only seen days previously.

I hadn’t heard of either ‘The Irish Girl’or ‘have yez been to Dromcolliher’ previously – still learning from the signs

‘Says I, have yez been to Dromcolliher?
Ye haven’t? Well now I declare.
You must wait till you’ve been to Dromcolliher
And seen the fine house we have there.
There’s only one house in Dromcolliher:
For hardware, bacon and tea:
If your master would come we would treat him in Drum,
Oh! Drum is the place for me’
Percy French, 1894

Katherine Cecil Thurston - Woods Gift

18/4/2016

I cycled past this house last night. This morning the name appeared on my computer screen. More than enough reason for a blog – even just to add to what was mentioned before.

I was reading today’s update from Stair na hÉireann as to what happened on this day in history and they mentioned that Katherine Cecil Thurston (née Madden) was born in Cork on this day, in 1875.

This name was new to me and I wondered as to whether there was a plaque to her somewhere.

My web searching treated me like a nail, hitting me straight with the comment that ‘often forgotten today, was a highly popular and successful writer of short stories and novels at the beginning of the twentieth century’. She ‘had two books simultaneously on the New York Times best seller list in 1905, the first time any author had achieved such a feat’.

It revealed that she was born at Woods Gift in 1875. She died of asphyxia in her hotel room at 13 Morrisons Island, also in Cork city, in 1911, one month before she was due to remarry.

I suspect that I will be requesting a book from the City Library – to find out more. Even a walk through St Joseph’s Cemetery might be prompted.

A bit of Kerry long ago – in Cork

29/3/2016

A while back, I was travelling the roads around Kilmichael and Inchigeela. Taking a road new to me, I ended up in Johnstown.

There is not much more than the Cill Eanna Bar in Johnstown. I did not even spot a postbox – and I was looking.

The Cill Eanna Bar did cause me to stop and exit the car – the Murphy’s Stout advert to be more precise.

The words on the advertisement sign did read like an extract from a poem and went on the mental ‘To Find Out More’ list.

Earlier today, it was struck off that list when I learnt that it is from a folk song, ‘In Kerry Long Ago’. Listening to the song on YouTube, I suspected that I had heard it before but could not, with any certainty, remember where or when.

Why this particular song is on the wall of a pub in Co. Cork, I do not know. This query has now gone onto that ‘To Find Out More’ list. It may only be answered over a pint at the Cill Eanna – as if an excuse was needed.

God Be With You Kerry
O God be with you, Kerry,
When in childhood we were merry!
When we'd hear the fiddler tuning up
and resining the bow.
At the crossroads we'd be dancing,
And our colleens shyly glancing,
Just like their dads and mothers did
In Kerry long ago.

Now my heart is sad and weary,
Still in dreams I see my Mary,
With her golden tresses flying - on her
checks a rosy glow!
In her joy I hear her singing,
While Bill ? alpin's fiddle ringing
As he played The Stack at Barley,
Down in Kerry long ago.

We'd go down to Mary's dairy,
And our feet so light and airy.
At the churn we'd take our turn,
'till the butter would overflow.
Then to the kitchen we'd retire,
And pick out the biggest liar,

Just to tell us `fairy stories'
of Kerry long ago.
Then we'd stroll home in the moonlight,
And the colleens' waists we'd hug tight,
Just to save them from the fairies in the
Raheen' down below.
Then we'd say 'good-night' and kiss them;
We'd go home and pray; God bless them,
The sweethearts of our boyhood days
in Kerry long ago.
Irish Folk Songs.com

Side Question:

Why Cill Eanna, Church of Eanna/Enda, in Johnstown, Cill Sheanaigh? Another without an answer.

Home Farm Stores

27/3/2016

To many, or even to all but very few, this building on Leitrim Street might appear to be an old shop where the signage has been painted over.

I was walking past last month and the light was such as to help make out the ghost that was lurking behind the numerous coats of bright white oil paint.

John Spillane’s album, The Man Who Came in from The Dark, is regularly played in our car. Our nine year old has the words of The Sirius and others learnt off at this stage.

My own favourite is Prince’s Street where John Spillane and Cónal Creedon combine. On Cónal’s grandad’s scove from Blackpool into town, ‘he’d know then he was on the right track so he put his hands into the pockets and whistle, whistle all the way from Poulraddy Harbour to Home Farm Stores, eyes wide shut.’

Youtube only has the two separate components. The combined effect is well worth the purchase.

The Home Farm Stores may have closed down many years ago but it is still there in word and song – and as a ghost that can be viewed in a certain light.

Go on. Take a stroll past to spot the ghost.