 I am in the process of getting my thousands of photographs catalogued and uploaded. One of the groupings that I am working on is Street Art so I have been going through different photos over the past while. On Tuesday, I spotted a beauty on Connaught Street in Cabra – absolutely lovely. 
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The twitter feed on Tuesday morning revealed that that day, 15th January, was the feast day of St. Ita. That morning, I was to attend a meeting at the St. Ita’s Hospital complex in Portrane, north County Dublin. I have been told that St. Ita’s Hospital complex is that largest land bank owned by the H.S.E. in the state. Having been there a few times, that does not surprise. I have been in Portrane over the past few years for meetings but the co-incidence of the feast date did resonate a bit and it rattled around my grey matter as a distraction.
The first time, I visited was three or four years ago. The building we were to work on had been vacated and partially cleared out. I spent a couple of hours, alone, walking around a large empty three storey former mental hospital making notes and getting to know the building. The only company were a few startled pigeons. Whether they were more startled than me, I am not sure The closing of doors behind me did sound louder than normal. My ears were alert to any noise. I was glad to return the keys to the maintenance crew and hit the road for home. But I was luckier than the Architect. He carried out his initial inspection on a different day but was locked in with the message to give a call when ready to leave. This was an early lesson in the quality of mobile reception. The last person spotted knocking on the windows trying to get out was not a patient, but an Architect who spent two hours longer than intended with some remnants of the previous use to keep him company.
I never asked if he took any mementoes from his trip. I did. The final clean out had not yet happened so I pocketed some old cigarette packets that lay on the floor. A reminder of the days when there was more than health warnings on the pack.
Driving home on Tuesday, I detoured through Phibsboro and Cabra. I decided to stop and photograph the replacement Liam Whelan Bridge – the plaque has been repositioned in the new concrete structure. Turning back to the car, I noticed an old Players No. 6 ghostsign on the end wall of the building on Connaught St. Players No. 6 was one of the boxes that I salvaged from St. Ita’s. Too many co-incidences not to warrant a blog post.  
Thirty three years ago, our student accommodation comprised the top half of a terraced house on the New Cabra Road. My lasting memory is of how cold it was and of three of us using an opened out sleeping-bag for warmth on the couch watching television. Yesterday, I parked very close to the old flat and was struck by the streetsigns – something that I never pondered in those student days.
I was first struck by the font – the ‘C’ in Cabra looked bigger than the other letters.
Then the other letters did not look as if they had been lined up correctly – the ‘R’ in ‘BÓTHAR’ and the first ‘A’ in ‘CABRAÍ’ Only then did I spot that the ‘Í’ at the end of ‘CABRAÍ’ was a painted addition – similar to Sidney Park and Cahercalla. Logainm does suggest that ‘CABRAÍ’ is correct but the answers as to who and when the amendments were carried out is possibly a matter of local knowledge and a need-to-know basis.  I have contributed a number of details of field and placenames to Meitheal Logainm – a crowd sourcing of names/nicknames of fields, crossroads and other features around the country. Having spoken with a few older farmers, every field had a name, or even a number of names, but many names were lost with the selling of farms.
My brother-in-law’s father worked with Irish Sugar and told of a book that he had that he used when visiting farmers every year as to which fields would be given over to beet that year – the high field, Murphy’s acres……. That book contained the names of very many fields. It was left behind him when he retired and he suspects that it was subsequently consigned to a skip – so much history and lore, lost. Staying in Skerries overnight, I was delighted to spot that they have plaques erected to record the old names of corners – I only spotted two, my next visit will demand a more extensive walkabout for any more.  Last Saturday, I attended the talk by Dr. Michael Waldon on the current exhibition at the Crawford Art Gallery – Crawford at the Castle. It was very well delivered and full of information. One of the paintings in the exhibition is by an artist called Mary Swanzy. When her surname was mentioned, I immediately thought that I had only heard of one other person with that surname – Detective Inspector Oswald Ross Swanzy was believed to have organised the killing of Tomás MacCurtáin on this day, 20th March, in 1920 – his 36th birthday. Just over a month before, I attended a talk by Vera Ryan, the curator of the ‘Made in Cork’ exhibition . At that exhibition, less than ten paces from where the Mary Swanzy painting now hangs, was a painting of Terence MacSwiney, a friend and successor Lord Mayor to Tomás MacCurtáin – this heightened my curiosity further. ‘Swanzy’ is not a very common name and I wondered as to whether Oswald and Mary were related. There have been a lot of web-searches over the past two days and I have learned a lot about both.  Terence MacSwiney - Crawford Art Gallery - Nov 2016 Oswald Swanzy Oswald Ross Swanzy – RIC Officer – is believed to have ordered killing of Lord Mayor, Tomás MacCurtáin. Oswald Swanzy was killed leaving church in Lisburn, 22nd August, 1920, by Tomas MacCurtáin’s own gun - a gun held by Tomás MacCurtáin’s granddaughter upto when she donated it to Cork Museum recently. He was stationed in Carlow R.I.C. Barracks and lived 33 Athy Road, Carlow from 1910 to 1916. The rootsweb directory says he was born 15th July 1881 and baptised on 11th December in Castleblaney. He is buried in Mount Jerome Cemetery in Dublin as is his father, James (7/9/1849 to 26/2/07) and mother (1855 – 1922). The headstone includes the words ‘who gave his life in the service of his country’. His parents married in Co. Monaghan in 1877. His father was a solicitor. His brother, Captain Henry Hubert Swanzy, died of plague when serving in India, aged 28 years on 10th April, 1907. He was born 18th August, 1877. It appears that the Swanzy had family connections in Belfast, Dublin, Antrim and Monaghan. They are not listed on the 1901 census online.  Mary Swanzy - Crawford Art Gallery - March 2017  Mary Swanzy Mary Swanzy was born on 15th February 1882 and died on 7th July, 1978. Her parents were Sir Henry Rosborough Swanzy and Mary Knox (née Denham). Her sister, Clair was six years older. Her other sister was Muriel. Her first one woman show was in 1913. She continued to paint until her death, aged 96. She was one of the first Irish abstract painters. Former art critic with the Irish Times, Brian Fallon, believes her to be the best female Irish painter. Elsewhere, I read that she was one of the best artists of her generation. I learned that her father was an ophthalmic surgeon; wrote 2 books that are still available; was knighted in 1908; and was President of the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland from 1906 to 1908. There is a bust of Sir Henry at the Royal Victoria Eye and Ear Hospital in Adelaide Road in Dublin, where Dr. Kathleen Lynn, of 1916 fame, was the first female Doctor. Connection Made The R.C.S.I website has a few pages on Sir Henry Swanzy which include that his father was a solicitor, and that the family were descended from Co. Monaghan – a tenuous link to Oswald’s father. But I had to go back to where I started to get confirmation that Oswald Swanzy and Mary Swanzy, born exactly six months apart, were cousins. That is one curiosity itch scratched. If you are interested, details of the Swanzy’s listed in the online census returns are below.  Tomás MacCurtáin bust by Seamus Murphy at Cork City Hall Cork still manages to throw up a surprise or two…
WALKERS ARE PRACTIONERS OF THE CITY
FOR THE CITY IS MADE TO BE WALKED
 In Ballydehob, I thought there was religious veneration. This, we spotted on the Naas Road and, while not definite, think that it is very probably a public display of religious admiration. The recent tweet from Irish Garrison Towns as to the smiling Jesus at the Calvary at Ringaskiddy brought me back to Inchicore. It may bring a smile to you – or maybe not…..
 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?
The joke is over.   Last year, I did a blog post about the street art on hoardings near Portobello in Dublin. At the time, I complimented the artist at work. A few months later, I was back in the same area what I had appreciated had been overpainted with new work. Two weeks ago in Dublin, I was again reminded that street art is a bit like an opportunity – catch in when it passes, it may not pass again. I do like street art installations. I do like matters relating to Irish history. Maybe it is a factor of Rising Commemoration overload or a liking for Jokerman but I preferred what was over what is…
Once again, the Irish language conveys a more accurate message.  A while back, having attended the commemoration of Thomas Kent at Cork railway station, I learned that 15 train stations were renamed in 1966 to honour the 16 men executed after the 1916 Rising. 15 stations for 16 men – not sixteen stations. I was wondering as to Willie Pearse in that he is likely to be lost when people think of Pearse Station - and then think of his brother. Standing on the platform, waiting for the 08:39 to Donabate, I had a bit of a eureka moment, as Gaeilge. The photograph is slightly blurred as it was taken as engine approached and cut off the view but it clearly calls the station, Stáisiún na bPiarsach. This differs from Páirc an Phiarsaigh (Pearse Stadium in Galway) and Coláiste an Phiarsaigh in Glanmire and got me thinking as to whether the possessive case was plural. My Irish is improving but Tuiseal Ginneadach of weak plurals is still well beyond me. I may know of a difference but do not know why or when to use. POF was consulted and was able to confirm that the sign in Irish does indeed recognise both brothers – STATION OF THE PEARSES. I suspect that Irish Rail will not be rebranding as Pearses’ Station – but I do think it would be the right thing to do in the year that is in it.  Yesterday, I learned that I had photographed a memorial to the wife of Thomas MacDonagh – and had not known of it.
A tweet from Changed Utterly told that Muriel MacDonagh had drowned while swimming in 1917 and she is one of the names recorded on the memorial pole in Skerries. I had photographed the memorial and each of the individual plaques – part of a gathering of maritime related plaques and memorials. I had not read each of the individual plaques and attempted any connection of the dots of knowledge. That task may need to be carried out sooner rather than later.
This morning, I attended the commemoration ceremony at the railway station – remembering Thomas Kent, from Bawnard, Castlelyons.
M.C. for the event was Andrew Roche of Irish Rail who imparted quite a bit of information on the history of station, and, the railway system. I had not realised that there were six stations in Cork – the first being at Kilbarry.
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