In summer, so does winter.
In summer, so does winter.
This is Portrait of a Man, by Julieta Guipeal:
Apologies for the photo quality – this was taken with my phone’s camera in a well-lit (and thereby reflective) space.
It is currently on display as part of an exhibition called Reflections in Tipperary County Museum, Clonmel. Here is a bit of background on the exhibition:
Earlier this year , Tipperary County Museum initiated a vital research project which focused on the origins of its municipal art collection. Art Historian, Catherine Marshall was appointed Curator in Residence at Tipperary County Museum to oversee this particular project. The result of Catherine’s findings will be documented in a specialised catalogue in early 2019 and the accompanying exhibition ‘Reflections’ will exhibit approximately 65 paintings which have remained unseen by the general public for many years.
This Tipperary Art Collection is the result of active, committed and sustained citizenship by a small group of people, from those who established the South Tipperary Fine Arts Club in the 1940s, to individual donors like William English in the 1980s and more recently Tipperary County Council S.R., South Tipperary County Council and our now unified Tipperary County Council.
Portrait of an Artist and others of the most interesting works (including “F***lands 1982”) are part of the William English Bequest. I haven’t been able to find out much about William English online (possibly because there is an artist of that name) this article:
Subsequently, the original collection was added-to by a number of bequests, the most notable of which came from Clonmel man, William English. This brought relatively modern artists (working in the late decades of the 20th century) into the gallery: Robert Ballagh, Patrick Pye, Leo Hogan, Julieta Guipeal, and the Clonmel-born artist, Martin Quigley.
The above article by Margaret Rossiter is the only online reference to Julieta Guipeal I could find. The catalogue for the exhibition states “All attempts to find the artist Julieta Guipeal have so far come to nothing. While almost all of the William English Bequest was acquired in the Limerick area, enquiries about Guipeal there have yielded no information, nor have early international searches”:
Here is another, unfortunately blurry, view of Portrait of A Man:
Julieta Guipeal is not the only lost artist on display. Here is a work whose very title is a mystery. Is it EA or A1/2? We known it is signed by “Debois”, but who is Debois? Again, apologies for the quality:
Here is the image in a bit more context with a great big stonking reflection of myself hogging the frame:
While in Guipeal’s case one can make assumptions (possibly misleading ones) about gender and possible ethnicity, in Debois’ case we have even less to go on. As the catalogue states “No information has come to light about the artist who signed this work, Debois, and no indications of how William English came across his or his work. That is all the more intriguing since the work itself is so tantalisingly dreamlike and surreal”:
So there you have it – I have posted before here about the amnesia of our supposedly information-saturated age., and here we have two intriguing works, each by an artist apparently unknown for anything else.
The Nationalist is running a poll to find out Tipperary’s All Time Great. Among the likes of Charles Kickham, Adi Roche and Dan Breen we have The Two Johnnies, a contemporary comedic duo. While their rib-tickling prowess is undoubted their presence seems incongrous, especially as the paper is using a knockout format to decide who will emerge as Tipp’s All Time Great. Thus rather entertaining juxtapositions like this:
About ten years ago, a friend of mine working in a ministerial department told me about the concern the government had about the “decade of centenaries” marking the anniversaries of the events leading up to Irish (partial) independence. There was a concern to commemorate these properly, so that extreme elements couldn’t hijack them, without alienating Unionism. Thus the lavish 1916 centenary, and associated events in the years before (and since)
A few months ago I wondered what official commemoration would mark the 100th anniversary of the Soloheadbeg ambush, which marked the outset of the War of Independence. The ambush took place on 21st January 1919, and on 20th January (ie tomorrow) there will be ceremonies to mark the anniversary.
I mean no disrespect to Minister Josepha Madigan by suggesting her presence as the government representative is a little less high profile than that accorded to other events.
I remember as a child visiting Kilmainham Jail, which sold a booklet which went into great detail about the various Fenians and 1916 leaders who had been imprisoned and executed there, and a brief page on the War of Independence. There’s always been an ambivalence about the War of Independence, largely due to the Civil War which followed, and the ambiguity about the outcome with partition of Ireland. Also, one surmises, while 1916 was a military failure and is therefore something of a blank slate (the commemorations of both 1966 and 2016 reflected contemporary concerns and attitudes as much as anything else), the War of Independence did lead to an Irish state and involved almost all of the main political protagonists of the first few decades of that state.
Clearly the political dynamics of 1919 have not gone away and right now are taking centre stage in not only Irish or British but European politics. On Monday 21st 2019 Theresa May will present (or is supposed to) her “Plan B” after a Brexit plan floundered, to a large extent on the “Irish Question.” Furthermore, while Soloheadbeg had a far smaller death toll than 1916, there is something much more personal about the killing of two local Catholics who happened to be RIC men. The reality that the Irish state (like every state, pretty much) was born in conflict, and that all the main Irish political parties arose from or were strongly linked with paramilitary forces of various kinds is one that a veil is often drawn over.
All in all, one wonders if the current Government would rather not make much of a fuss about the whole thing, and one wonders if this could backfire somewhat. A whole raft of centenaries – of ambushes and assassinations and of the Treaty and the subsequent debates – is following in the coming years.
Knockroe Passage Tomb near Windgap in County Kilkenny was only rediscovered during the 1980s. Like Newgrange, the dawn light on the Winter solstice aligns with the structure, but unlike Newgrange so does the sunset on the same day.
Unless things have changed the site isn’t signposted from the main road, if anyone reading this is seized with an urge to visit.
Here is the 2015 sunset on Youtube:
Here’s a video of Knockroe set to the music of Philip Glass:
Following recent reflection (possibly navel gazing) and specific reflection on my stained glass related posts, I am trying to be more selective and focused in posting pictures from specific Churches.
Our Lady of the Assumption’s in Newcastle has some “traditional” windows typical of the late 19th Century, and some more unusual and distinctive ones. I don’t have anything against “traditional” windows (a post may come on on this) but for this post I will focus on some of the more unusual ones:
I especially liked this Holy Family image:
Here is a window of King David, which seems to have been made in Tours in France:
Cahir has a number of memorials; previously I featured the memorial to Crimean Bob, “a veteran troophorse.” There is also the memorial to the Blind Piper, Edward Keating Hyland
In 2012 a Titanic memorial was unveiled in Cahir, commemorating four passengers who bought their tickets for the ill-fated passage in the town: