Sean Nós dancing was familiar to me, the sight of arms flying and feet going. But until two years ago, I had never seen it here in Ireland and I have lived here for more than 16 years. The dancing I was more familiar with was step dancing made famous through the production of Riverdance with straight arms and backs, curled hair and fluorescent dresses. Another well-known type was the set dance, similar to square dancing, and done in groups. I was once pulled up by a strong middle-aged woman at a wedding and twirled so much I nearly fell over dizzy. I’m sure it all comes with practise. I have a great deal of admiration for both types but I was absolutely mesmerised by what by I thought was a new style. It turned out to be Sean Nós, or the old way. The looseness of it was a refreshing change.
Why hadn’t I seen any of this dancing before? Máire-Aine Ní Iarnáin from Connemara hung her sign for classes outside the Irish language cultural centre in Galway to teach Sean Nós dancing. Hoping to help revive the old style, she says it was dormant for a long time.
“There were only a few able to do it,” she said. “It was there in the background but there were no classes or anything.”
Old style dancing used to be performed at weddings or other special events such as American wakes for someone emigrating or St. Stephen’s Day. The old people used to do a couple of steps at those times. The tradition was to take down the famous half-door prevalent in Ireland of old, because the floors were often too uneven to dance on.
Not as controlled as step dancing, Sean Nós is loose and flexible with steps nearer to the ground. Instead of kicks and hops, there is more shuffling. Related to tap and the old sailor dances, it doesn’t require a lot off space. Some dancers were known to do it on a roof slate in a field. Thus dances carry names such as Dance on the Door or Dance on the Barrel.
The type of dance remained in Connemara and Kerry on the west coast of Ireland, just going on quietly for the last 30 to 40 years. The style varies in the two places. In Connemara, they dance low on the heels and in Kerry, they dance on the balls of their feet or on their toes. Kerry man Joe Donovan is known as Master of the Dance.
Maire-Aine started off doing step dancing, taking part in the Carraroe Parochial Feis and Oireachtas competitions. She discovered Sean Nós dancing almost by accident and took to it immediately, studying under Padraig i hOibicín.
As for her teaching, Maire-Aine says she’s had a great response from people from fifteen to sixty. It is a pleasant way to do exercise and students get fit during the course if they are not when they begin. There has been a lot of positive feedback.
“ There is more self-expression in this type of dancing,” she said. “When you have a few steps, you just can just do what comes naturally to you, make it up and use everything in your body to express yourself. Everyone develops a different style and interpretation of the steps."
Learning those steps is the hardest part. In class they are broken down to make them easier to pick up. Form is taught to get to know the music -reels, jigs, hornpipes- and there is lots of repetition in the beginning. After that students are encouraged to improvise. “Your personality shines through,” said Maire-Aine. Students also get an opportunity to dance at special concerts joining in with professionals.
In earlier days, it was mainly a dance for men. Now it is danced equally by both men and women but it is particularly good to see men expressing themselves through the dance.
And what of the future of Sean Nós Dancing? It looks like it is here to stay. It is already becoming a prominent part of the Oireachtas, or National Irish Dance Competitions. The spring of 2004 saw the first entry into the annual contemporary dance festival in Dublin. Máire-Aine Ní Iarnáin, Padraig O’hOibicín, and Joseph O’Naughton demonstrated Sean Nós Dancing as part of a world dance show. As it becomes more well-known, it is doubtful that it will disappear again.
“Every natural Sean Nós Dancer is a show off,” Maire-Aine said. And what a fortunate audience we are that they are!
Monday, February 20, 2017
Walking with the Fiddle on his Back By Sandra Bunting
So whether he calls it spirit music
Or not, 1 don't care. He took it
Out of the wind off mid-Atlantic.
Still he maintains, from nowhere.
It comes off the bow gravely,
Rephrases it into the air.
Seamus Heaney, The Given Note
The Story of Legendary West Clare Fiddler,
Seanachie and Dancer Junior Crehan 1908-1998
An ash tree is planted outside Gleeson's pub in Coore, West Clare, where Junior Crehan played fiddle every Sunday night for as long as the pub was open. Inside, photos and tributes to him cover the wall in the corner where he sat every week. Some say he played there for 70 years, first taking out his bow to sit on that raised platform when he was twelve. That may be stretching it a bit but the pub did end up being his local for a long time.
We are so often defined in terms of what we do in life. In regard to Junior Crehan, it was more as 'what he was' as a person. Besides being one of the best known fiddle players in west Clare, everyone who came into contact with him mentions his placid manner, sense of fun and calming presence. Junior died in 1998 and lies in a quiet grave in Mullach near his home but his effect in Clare and beyond continues to resonate clearly.
Born Martin, after his father, in 1908 in Bonavilla, the local townland name also used for his house and farm, near Milltown Malbay, he started on the concertina at the age of six, taught by his mother, Baby. He went on to teach himself fiddle with the help of several masters. The most important influence was from the famous Casey clan, especially Scully Casey. In his younger days he played with that skilled fiddler for house and crossroad dances. It was a tradition for musicians to visit neighbouring farms on Stephen's Day (December 25) to entertain in return for food, drink and sometimes a little money. The performers were called strawboys, wrenboys or mummers. Music would also be played at American wakes, goodbye festivities for people emigrating, and swarrys from the French word soiré or party. There used to be a crossroad dance at Mount Scott Cross on Bonfire Night (June 24) and at Markham's cross every Sunday in summertime.
Muiris Ó'Rochaín, a friend, noticed that people would always gravitate towards Junior Crehan. He went on to say that Junior was genuinely delighted to spend time with visitors, giving his songs, his time and his advice freely. Highly regarded amongst his neighbours, family and friends, he was patient and philosophical and never lost his temper. Nonetheless, Junior had a strong character and a mind of his own. Mr. Ó'Rochaín said he would often take a stand, and he would never ever compromise on music.
Mick Crehan is Junior's nephew. He established the Galway School of Irish Traditional Music. As an uncle he says Junior was tremendously kind, easy going and a great friend. Again he refers to the fun that so many people bring up when talking about the Chare fiddler. Mick says Junior had a profound influence on that way he lives his life. Mick now runs "The Crane" an award-winning pub in Galway and plays tin whistle.
Junior took dancing lessons from a local dance instructor called Paddy Bar ron. However, he spent even more time playing fiddle for the classes. He even learned a few tunes from Barron. In those days, no music was written down. It was remembered by playing it over and over again until the tunes came automatically.
The people of Clare kept up the music because of their love of dancing. At every social event there would be dancing and musicians It was woven into the very social fabric of the place. Folklorist Tom Munnelly says Junior was first and foremost a player for dances. He knew all the dance sets himself. His wife Cissie (Johanna Walsh) was a fine dancer and so were his daughters, Ita and Angela. Where he played most was in Gleeson's Pub in Coore. This was always a dancing pub even when it was a small pub. Junior would encourage people up to dance. He hated to see the music ‘wasted’.
Although a step dancer and a set dancer, Junior was rarely on the floor. He was busy playing. His daughter Ita said she remembers the surprise at seeing Jun ior dancing at her grandparents' anniversary. "There was Dad", she said, "up dancing a hornpipe with his two brothers. We never saw him dance at home because every time we had a 'night' or a dance, he was always playing." When the folk scene started and traditional music became popular again, he never stopped long enough for a dance himself. He could do a bit of a batter, a style of Irish step-dancing where music is made by the feet. Ita says he was a good batterer. He did it in the old style. But the fiddle was his first love.
There is something in the air in west Clare. A relaxed gentleness prevails; from the starkness of the Burren, the layered cliffs and the pounding surf of the Atlantic to rolling hills and fairy rings. People on the roads still take time to wave while passing, whether in a car, on foot or on a tractor. And yet this doesn't mean that the area has been left behind. Ennis was targeted a few years ago as an ex perimental technological centre, a project to promote IT knowledge, literacy. The plan was to use the know-how to create skilled citizens, start businesses and im prove existing ones. Clare just takes what comes and if a good story can be made out of it, so much the better. It was in a mixed climate of magic and harsh reality that Junior Crehan was brought up.
Yet the land isn't the only influence on the renowned fiddler and storyteller. Tom Munnelly, folklore collector and friend, said that the influence wasn't so much geographical as genealogical and social. "His mother's family was gifted in music and he deliberately chose musicians as friends."
Traditional music, or folk as it was called at one time, wasn't always so popu lar. In press such as the Irish Times, Billboard, and the Irish Voice, Junior and other musicians have recently been described as local gods and idols of the tradi tional music scene. However, there were harsh times during the 30s and 40s for music and for life in general. The Dancehall Act of 1936 put an abrupt stop to dancing at the crossroads and basically put all social events in the hands of the clergy. House dances were prohibited, and all gatherings were to be held in church halls. Junior was very bitter about this change because it affected the music and the way of life in the community.
It was also a harsh time economically. Many people emigrated, including many good musicians. Junior's father, a schoolteacher, wanted Junior to get a good education, but he wasn't very interested in school, preferring to stay on the small farm they had.
Storytelling was another of Junior's talents. He had a pleasant speaking voice. With a retentive ear, he learned his stories from various sources, an important one being a neighbour Packie Murrihey. Irish was not taught when Junior went to school but the area was once Irish speaking. Mr. Murrihey learned the stories in Irish but passed them on in English. The repertoire of Junior's Fiannaenian stories, including a special version of Diarmuld and Grainne, came from Murrihey. Often these stories were embellished with Junior's own additions and situated in the local community, a common storytelling technique.
Junior embodied a direct link with the music and folk traditions of vanished generations. Tom Munnelly, the folklorist, calls him a tradition bearer. So impor tant a connection with the past was Junior that Munnelly says that the ancient oral lineage of these stories in Clare has probably ended with him. The Irish language (Gaelic) was important to him. Although he wasn't fluent, he could speak a bit and understand the gist of most conversations. Munnelly says he grew up among the last Gaelic speakers of west Clare and learned music from the last of the travelling players. He had a soft spot for the Connemara style 'sean nos', or unaccompanied singing in the Irish language.
I had heard about Junior Crehan in 1988 when 1 moved to Ireland from Canada. In my ignorance 1 stopped in a pub in Milltown Malbay to ask directions to his house. 1 knocked at his door with my baby in my arms and introduced myself. He sat me down next to the range in his kitchen and proceeded to tell me the story of The Big Wind. 1 didn't quite understand what was happening but I did realise 1 was being treated to something very spe cial, something that has kept with me until the present day. Such was the power of his gentle demeanour and generosity with his time.
The night of the big wind, Ireland's greatest natural disaster, occurred on January 6, 1839. Houses were destroyed, chimneys imploded, fires started, cattle blown away and people swept away in floods. It was more like a tornado or a Carribean hurricane, a storm not usual in Ireland. People thought it was the end of the world. They sheltered in whatever was left standing, held on to anything rooted. Children were hidden under iron pots, wooden chests or anything else for protection. Junior could describe it in great detail and he had a personal anecdote to include.
After the home of Junior's widowed great-grandmother was destroyed in the storm, she gathered together her many children, wrapped the baby in an apron and struggled over to a neighbour's whose house was still standing. It so happened that the house was crowded with other neighbours who had lost their houses too. She thought she would be left outside, when someone piped up: 'Make way for the mother hen and her twelve chicks'. People squeezed together so she could get closer to the fire. The baby in question was Junior's grandfather.
Tom Munnelly has listened to Junior's stories more than most as he has recorded the tales and bits of folklore for the archives. He said that only in Clare can a person be called a liar and take it as a compliment. Junior was a good liar in the sense that he could spin a very tall tale. He could spin it so credibly that everyone would be taken in. He could tell the most outrageous things but he would have this angelic and serious face that he could make people believe that black was white with no trouble at all. Munnelly described him as having an impish of humour. His daughter Ita recalls the same trait in her father:
Ita blamed Junior for getting her into trouble sometimes when she played tin whistle with him. Ita said with Junior's low speaking voice, the cracks or jokes would be coming out the side of his mouth as they would with a ventriloquist. The person on the other side of him wouldn't know what was going on. They would think that Ita was laughing at them.
"He was a divil. He was full of the divil and always had a lot of yarns and stories. He was very easy-going, very calm and very funny, even though to look at him you mightn't think so. He had a rather solemn face and is never smiling in his pho tographs."
Fairy lore was a source of material for Junior's stories. "Whoever says the fairies are not there, I contradict them, for I was mixed with them since 1 was born."
Tom Munnelly has listened to Junior's stories more than most because he recorded a lot of accounts of contact with 'the other world' or the supernatural. Some people in Clare would express absolute belief. One never knew about Junior, says Munnelly, he would have a twinkle in his eye.
One of Junior's stories was about how he met his wife Cissie. To make a long story short, he was engaged to play fiddle at two house parties. On the way to the first house he had to pass a 'rath' or fairy fort. He played a good many hours and left for the second house. He had to go by the fairy fort again. He saw a little ball of light going to and fro. A voice called out "Stop the Ball'. He did and in payment a little man warned him of danger in the rushes. Then he gave him the present of something like a horseshoe nail to put under the bridge of his fiddle. "If you have a girl in mind, get her up dancing and with this charm, nothing in the world will ever take her from you". There was a nice girl at the second party and he got her up dancing and walked her part of the way home. Her mother was strict and they later had to meet through the hedges when she went to fetch water. Eventually, that girl that danced the reel that night became his wife.
Before the 50s when traditional music had a revival, Junior Crehan kept true to the music besides concentrating on his farm and his family. Farming suited him, said his daughter Ita. He was easygoing in his ways, and could do things at his own pace. He was a man of the soil, of the earth. Everything he planted grew. He was a real farmer. No matter how late he was out, playing music, there were the cows to be milked, the turf to be cut. Each member of the family had their little jobs and mucked in when the hay was to be brought in.
Ita says they didn't have instruments when they were growing up, not like to day where there might be a fiddle, a concertina and a guitar in the same family. His children picked up a love of music. Her father had his fiddle but none of the children would take it down.
After the Second World War interest in Irish music began in North America, Britain and Europe. Cornhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann started up in 1951 to promote Irish music by establishing a series of competitions or Fleadhs around the country. This gave musicians the opportunity to meet one another and maintained standards through contests. At that point there were few musicians left in Clare as most had emigrated.
Junior and his contemporaries in the area had a similar style. For Ita, this style had a beat suitable for dancing. It wasn't fast but it was lively and heart. It is the same west Clare style you hear coming out in Joe Ryan. Tom Munnelly says Clare hasn't been left behind in terms of a fiddling tradition. There are pockets in the county as rich in fiddlers as Cork, Kerry or Donegal.
Besides picking up music from around the community and from travelling musicians, junior learned tunes off old LPs. Tom Lenilian lived in Milltown about seven miles from Bonavilla. Junior would walk with the fiddle on his back to go to his house. Tom gave him the loan of 78 records. Sometimes he'd say to Ita as a record played: "That's a nice tune. Learn it and teach it to me."
Junior was especially fond of slow airs. He would always follow it with some thing lively. Kevin Crehan, his grand son from the U.S., also a fiddler, describes Junior's style as unusual, plainer than most but with a clear execution of ornamentation. The west Clare style has a characteristic sadness (minor and played a little flat to emphasize sadness.) There was a lot of room and air in his dance music. Though it was played slow, it had a lift. He was absolutely unique in playing slow airs. He had a depth of emotion rarely seen anywhere else.
Liam O'Flynn, the legendary uilleann piper and related to Junior through his mother, said the music was an extension of his personality. It had a relaxed almost lonesome quality. As a person Junior was laid back, happy and content. He was a farmer and his way of thinking was in keeping with nature and the rhythm of the seasons.
The awakening of interest in Irish music and culture created a need for
songs, lore and old ways of life to be captured before they disappeared. In west Clare one of the most important sources happened to be Junior. Because of his attractive personality and sense of humour, he quickly made long-lasting friends. One of those was RTE Broadcaster Ciaran McMathuna, who spent a lot of time in Clare and made many recordings of Junior, including those used 'm the Radio documen tary, "The Fires of St. John". He has been going down to Clare from Dublin since the mid-fifties and learned his first set with the Crehan family. McMathuna now has a Sunday Morning radio programme on RTE 1 that highlights traditional music and poetry.
Then came folklorist Tom Munnelly, also from Dublin. He did extensive work with junior Crehan, making the recordings now housed in the Folklore Department at UCD. The result was the inclusion of two lengthy articles in the Irish Folklore Publication Bealoideas, one on Junior's life, and the other on his lore. Munnelly had an interest in die early sixties collecting folklore and music from rural people in Dublin. Asked by the Department of Education to participate in a pilot scheme in 1971 for a few months, it was extended for another two years and then taken over by the Department of Irish Folklore. He's still with the Folklore Depart ment. Eventually he moved permanently to west Clare and built a house between two fairy rings.
Another friend, Muiris Ó’ Rochaín, was instrumental in setting up a traditional music summer school in Milltown Malby. Ó’Rochaín was a teacher and native Gaelic speaker with a love for Irish music and culture. He proposed the idea after the annual conference of Cornhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann in 1973 and discussed the idea with piper Willie Clancy. Unfortunately, Clancy died of a heart attack soon af terwards and the summer school was named after him.
Junior was involved with the school from the outset. He used to go in to play at classes every year. Anyone who had heard of Irish music in Clare had heard of Junior. He was considered one of the best musicians in the area. At the summer school he was the embodiment of west Clare style of fiddle playing. He also told the stories behind the music and the people who played the music.
Ó'Rochaín says he was a very eloquent man and was able to express himself well. His daughter Ita says it was in Junior's nature, if it had to do with traditional music, he would get involved. He didn't have time to help with administration but at the school itself, he would give concerts and Master Classes. He became presi dent and kept that honour until he died. His reputation helped give the summer school authenticity and upheld its high standard and international good name.
His house was also a great source of music. His wife was a great force behind him. Junior had to farm. Ó'Rochaín says he was a model farmer, care ful about his land, his stock and his house.
Contribution to Music
Music was in his head from the time he got up. Junior Crehan was in anything that had to do with traditional music in Clare. With the revival of traditional music, he got busy. He was in a group called the Laichtin Naofa Ceili Band, playing in Milltown in the 50s and early 60s and entering for competition in the fleadhs. Ita plays tin whistle, but she would sometimes play keyboard on stage at fleadhs with him in competitions for piano and fiddle. She was only a girl when the piano player died in the band and she was asked to fill in. She continued to play with him down the years. They also played together at home.
When the pub scene started in the early sixties, Junior played in Quilty. He was the first to play in the pubs. He and Paddy Gallivan and Michael Downs, Mi chael Fossy and John Fennel, JP Down and Joe Kinnen and of course Ita. The bar in Quilty was owned by Martin Casey. When Martin sold the bar, the musicians moved to the Crosses ofAnnagh Pub where Jimmy Gleeson had taken it over. They were there for four years playing every weekend (Friday, Saturday and Sunday). Ita says there were some great nights there. She used to stay the night on Sunday and drive down to Cork where she was living early Monday morning.
Jimmy sold the pub but built his own bar. They started playing there every Sunday night without fail. Ita left Lahinch where she had moved to, went to Bonavilla, picked up Junior who would be standing at the door with his cap on. If she was late, he'd ask what kept her? But he wouldn't be the last coming out. It would start late and go on late. There'd always be someone asking Junior to play another particular song and that would, to exaggerate, take another 90 verses and then there'd be another song, and then another.
He played at Gleeson's for years. He loved his pint of Guinness and his Majors cigarettes, said Nell Gleeson. At Coore he created an atmosphere like the house dances that were banned in 1936. There would be good music and set dancers. Then Junior would invite up singers and step dancers or recitations. He brought a lot of people into the area.
Ita went with Junior all over Ireland and joined almost 30 other musicians on the Bicentennial tour to the States. She said he was a pleasure to travel with. "He was a howl, an absolute howl."
Junior composed both music and songs. There are nineteen or twenty fiddle tunes composed by him, his biggest hit being the jig, The Mist Covered Mountain.. Farewell to Milltown was also popular. About half as many have been forgotten because he didn't write them down.
His vocal songs were about simple things about local people, wren boys, when the ash tree fell down and laments for friends who had passed on. There were two about his fiend the piper, Willie Clancy, another about his brother who died young and of course one about Scully Casey, his mentor.
There is a scarcity of recordings of Junior playing. Ita says there was a record done for some fleadh. They did one recording with the Laichtin Naofa Band, Come to an Irish Dance, a collector's item now. He was on the compilation, The Fiddlers of Clare and RTE Broadcaster Clarán McMathuna collected a lot of raw taped recordings. Young players are listening to a lot of CDs now but not by junior. For him it was more the personal touch. If anybody wanted to learn from him, they would have to sit down and play with him. Most of the new musicians aren't picking up distinctive styles.
Junior has had the honour of being Clareman of the Year. He was Chaitman of the local Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann and President of the Willie Clancy Summer School. Probably the most important tribute was the respect of other musicians m west Clare. Tom Munnelly says that because of his depth of knowledge and generosity, he won the respect of his peers from an early age. Nel Gleeson said he was the most photgraphed musician around. People loved him.
His contribution to the arts in Ireland was not forgotten. The Arts Council commissioned a portrait by Brian Bourke to be presented to him on his 80th birthday and a photographic portrait by Brian's brother Fergus on his 90th.
And the music goes on. His legacy is ongoing. He devoted so much time to people who came along; those interested 'm music, lore, background and local his tory. It is hard to evaluate just how far the ripples of that little pool spread out, not only in Clare but also throughout Ireland. His bequest is that his children and their children, besides nephews and nieces, are practising musicians. In fact one of the nicest tributes is that his grandson Kevin. who is living in the States, produced a CD called Babóg sa Badóg (Baby and Grandad). It is a collection of Junior's tunes and selections from his repertoire played by Kevin on a solo fiddle.
Muiris Ó’Riochaín of the Willie Clancy School says his influence is still pre sent in the different groups that learned from him or shared his tunes. Many of the more famous groups would know him. His tunes have been recorded by Matt Malloy, the Chieftains, Sean Keane, De Dannann. He influenced Paddy Glackin and Liam O'Flynn.
His nephew Mick said that because his uncle was born at the beginning of the last century, he learned so much from him about history, folklore and life in general He listened to him play and picked up tunes from him.
He was both a friend and a great font of knowledge for Tom Munnelly's folk lore collections. He had songs, information about general rural life, other local lore and oral history. Mr. Munnelly said he was one of the most influencial personas of the area. He knew all the musicians, singers and dancers around
Muiris Ó’Riochaín sums up what many other people have expressed concern ing their contact with Junior Crehan. "My own life was enriched by knowing Junior".
His daughter Ita agrees:" I suppose when you look back on it, he was differ ent in his own quiet way. He knew the value of music and the folklore but never saw himself as any different from anyone else. It's the way you are brought up and the people you live amongst, your neighbours." Like them, Ita said he was an ordinary hard-working farmer. The only difference was that the others went to be and got ready for the morning. Junior went out to dances and played music all night where they went to bed and got ready for the next morning. He did it for the music. It was the love of his life.
Looking out of the window of Gleeson's Pub in Corre it is not hard to imagine why every field and hill has a story. A high hill sticks up a little ways off directly in front of the window. The tale went that it had an O'Brien Castle on it during the time of Brian Boru. The castle was destroyed by Cromwell. He found a poet called O'Hogon in the ruins and held him over the ramparts. "Give me a rhyme in my honour", he said, "and I'll spare your life." The poet said he couldn't use his art to praise such a vile creature as Cromwell. He was dropped to his death.
Junior was a great man for the stories and the music. He is greatly missed in west Clare and further a field. His daughter Ita sums up the sentiments of friends, family and fellow musicians.
"He was a divil. He really was. He was full of the old divil and always had a lot of yarns, the music of course and the fun and the crack.
The End
Interviews
Tom Munnelly, Folklorist, interview at his home at Teach Si, Fintan Beg, outside Miltown Malby, Clare on April 3, 2003
Ita Crehan, tin whistle player, school administrator, IT instructor, interviewed at the Atlantic Hotel in Lahinch, Clare on April 7, 2003.
Jimmy and Nellie Gleeson, owners of Gleeson's Pub, Coore, County Clare on April 7, 2003.
Muiris O'Rochain, founder of the Willie Clancy Summer School. Interviewed b by telephone from his home in Miltown Malbay on April 13, 2003.
Mick Crehan, nephew of Junior's, runs the Crane traditional Music Pub in Galway, founder of the Galway School of Irish Traditional Music. Interviewed, The Crane Pub, Sea Road, Galway on April 13, 2003.
Junior Crehan in Bonavilla, Milltown Malby in April 1988 (the story of the big wind)
Bibliography
Peter Carr, The Night of the BigWind, White Row Press, Belfast, 1993, Page 25
Seamus Heaney, Door into the Dark, Faber, 1963
Tom Munnelly, Junior Crehan of Bonavilla, Bealoideas, The journal of the Folklore of Ireland
Society-Vol. 67, Page 59 61
Lisa Shields and D. Fitzgerald, The Night of the B19 Wind in Ireland, 6~7 January 1939, Irish Geography 22, 19 89. Page 3 8
Sean O'Sullabhan, Handbook of Irisb Folklore, Smiging Tree Press, Detroit, 1970
Fintami Vallelly editor, The Companion to Irish TraditionalMusic, Cork University Press, 1999, vol. XVIII
Excerpts ftom The Fiddler, The Irish Times, The Irish Voice and Billboard, from clippings in Nell Gleeson's scrapbook.
Photos By order of Appearance (Will post gradually)
1. Junior Crehan, page 1, official obituary picture
2. O'Brien's Hill, Coore, County Clare, Page 3, by S. Bunting
3. Junior Crehan enjoying a pint and a cigarette. Page5 by Jimmy Gleeson
4. Musicians' Corner, Gleeson's Pub, Page 9, by S. Bunting
5. Junior playing with other Musicians, Page 12, by Jimmy Gleeson
6. Garden to Junior Crehan, Coore, Page 13, by S. Bunting
7. Tribute to Junior on Gleeson's wall, Page 14, by S. Bunting
8. Gleeson's pub from the Outside, Page 15, by S. Bunting
9. Junior's Final Resting Place in Mullach, Page 16, by S. Bunting
Or not, 1 don't care. He took it
Out of the wind off mid-Atlantic.
Still he maintains, from nowhere.
It comes off the bow gravely,
Rephrases it into the air.
Seamus Heaney, The Given Note
The Story of Legendary West Clare Fiddler,
Seanachie and Dancer Junior Crehan 1908-1998
An ash tree is planted outside Gleeson's pub in Coore, West Clare, where Junior Crehan played fiddle every Sunday night for as long as the pub was open. Inside, photos and tributes to him cover the wall in the corner where he sat every week. Some say he played there for 70 years, first taking out his bow to sit on that raised platform when he was twelve. That may be stretching it a bit but the pub did end up being his local for a long time.
We are so often defined in terms of what we do in life. In regard to Junior Crehan, it was more as 'what he was' as a person. Besides being one of the best known fiddle players in west Clare, everyone who came into contact with him mentions his placid manner, sense of fun and calming presence. Junior died in 1998 and lies in a quiet grave in Mullach near his home but his effect in Clare and beyond continues to resonate clearly.
Born Martin, after his father, in 1908 in Bonavilla, the local townland name also used for his house and farm, near Milltown Malbay, he started on the concertina at the age of six, taught by his mother, Baby. He went on to teach himself fiddle with the help of several masters. The most important influence was from the famous Casey clan, especially Scully Casey. In his younger days he played with that skilled fiddler for house and crossroad dances. It was a tradition for musicians to visit neighbouring farms on Stephen's Day (December 25) to entertain in return for food, drink and sometimes a little money. The performers were called strawboys, wrenboys or mummers. Music would also be played at American wakes, goodbye festivities for people emigrating, and swarrys from the French word soiré or party. There used to be a crossroad dance at Mount Scott Cross on Bonfire Night (June 24) and at Markham's cross every Sunday in summertime.
Muiris Ó'Rochaín, a friend, noticed that people would always gravitate towards Junior Crehan. He went on to say that Junior was genuinely delighted to spend time with visitors, giving his songs, his time and his advice freely. Highly regarded amongst his neighbours, family and friends, he was patient and philosophical and never lost his temper. Nonetheless, Junior had a strong character and a mind of his own. Mr. Ó'Rochaín said he would often take a stand, and he would never ever compromise on music.
Mick Crehan is Junior's nephew. He established the Galway School of Irish Traditional Music. As an uncle he says Junior was tremendously kind, easy going and a great friend. Again he refers to the fun that so many people bring up when talking about the Chare fiddler. Mick says Junior had a profound influence on that way he lives his life. Mick now runs "The Crane" an award-winning pub in Galway and plays tin whistle.
Junior took dancing lessons from a local dance instructor called Paddy Bar ron. However, he spent even more time playing fiddle for the classes. He even learned a few tunes from Barron. In those days, no music was written down. It was remembered by playing it over and over again until the tunes came automatically.
The people of Clare kept up the music because of their love of dancing. At every social event there would be dancing and musicians It was woven into the very social fabric of the place. Folklorist Tom Munnelly says Junior was first and foremost a player for dances. He knew all the dance sets himself. His wife Cissie (Johanna Walsh) was a fine dancer and so were his daughters, Ita and Angela. Where he played most was in Gleeson's Pub in Coore. This was always a dancing pub even when it was a small pub. Junior would encourage people up to dance. He hated to see the music ‘wasted’.
Although a step dancer and a set dancer, Junior was rarely on the floor. He was busy playing. His daughter Ita said she remembers the surprise at seeing Jun ior dancing at her grandparents' anniversary. "There was Dad", she said, "up dancing a hornpipe with his two brothers. We never saw him dance at home because every time we had a 'night' or a dance, he was always playing." When the folk scene started and traditional music became popular again, he never stopped long enough for a dance himself. He could do a bit of a batter, a style of Irish step-dancing where music is made by the feet. Ita says he was a good batterer. He did it in the old style. But the fiddle was his first love.
There is something in the air in west Clare. A relaxed gentleness prevails; from the starkness of the Burren, the layered cliffs and the pounding surf of the Atlantic to rolling hills and fairy rings. People on the roads still take time to wave while passing, whether in a car, on foot or on a tractor. And yet this doesn't mean that the area has been left behind. Ennis was targeted a few years ago as an ex perimental technological centre, a project to promote IT knowledge, literacy. The plan was to use the know-how to create skilled citizens, start businesses and im prove existing ones. Clare just takes what comes and if a good story can be made out of it, so much the better. It was in a mixed climate of magic and harsh reality that Junior Crehan was brought up.
Yet the land isn't the only influence on the renowned fiddler and storyteller. Tom Munnelly, folklore collector and friend, said that the influence wasn't so much geographical as genealogical and social. "His mother's family was gifted in music and he deliberately chose musicians as friends."
Traditional music, or folk as it was called at one time, wasn't always so popu lar. In press such as the Irish Times, Billboard, and the Irish Voice, Junior and other musicians have recently been described as local gods and idols of the tradi tional music scene. However, there were harsh times during the 30s and 40s for music and for life in general. The Dancehall Act of 1936 put an abrupt stop to dancing at the crossroads and basically put all social events in the hands of the clergy. House dances were prohibited, and all gatherings were to be held in church halls. Junior was very bitter about this change because it affected the music and the way of life in the community.
It was also a harsh time economically. Many people emigrated, including many good musicians. Junior's father, a schoolteacher, wanted Junior to get a good education, but he wasn't very interested in school, preferring to stay on the small farm they had.
Storytelling was another of Junior's talents. He had a pleasant speaking voice. With a retentive ear, he learned his stories from various sources, an important one being a neighbour Packie Murrihey. Irish was not taught when Junior went to school but the area was once Irish speaking. Mr. Murrihey learned the stories in Irish but passed them on in English. The repertoire of Junior's Fiannaenian stories, including a special version of Diarmuld and Grainne, came from Murrihey. Often these stories were embellished with Junior's own additions and situated in the local community, a common storytelling technique.
Junior embodied a direct link with the music and folk traditions of vanished generations. Tom Munnelly, the folklorist, calls him a tradition bearer. So impor tant a connection with the past was Junior that Munnelly says that the ancient oral lineage of these stories in Clare has probably ended with him. The Irish language (Gaelic) was important to him. Although he wasn't fluent, he could speak a bit and understand the gist of most conversations. Munnelly says he grew up among the last Gaelic speakers of west Clare and learned music from the last of the travelling players. He had a soft spot for the Connemara style 'sean nos', or unaccompanied singing in the Irish language.
I had heard about Junior Crehan in 1988 when 1 moved to Ireland from Canada. In my ignorance 1 stopped in a pub in Milltown Malbay to ask directions to his house. 1 knocked at his door with my baby in my arms and introduced myself. He sat me down next to the range in his kitchen and proceeded to tell me the story of The Big Wind. 1 didn't quite understand what was happening but I did realise 1 was being treated to something very spe cial, something that has kept with me until the present day. Such was the power of his gentle demeanour and generosity with his time.
The night of the big wind, Ireland's greatest natural disaster, occurred on January 6, 1839. Houses were destroyed, chimneys imploded, fires started, cattle blown away and people swept away in floods. It was more like a tornado or a Carribean hurricane, a storm not usual in Ireland. People thought it was the end of the world. They sheltered in whatever was left standing, held on to anything rooted. Children were hidden under iron pots, wooden chests or anything else for protection. Junior could describe it in great detail and he had a personal anecdote to include.
After the home of Junior's widowed great-grandmother was destroyed in the storm, she gathered together her many children, wrapped the baby in an apron and struggled over to a neighbour's whose house was still standing. It so happened that the house was crowded with other neighbours who had lost their houses too. She thought she would be left outside, when someone piped up: 'Make way for the mother hen and her twelve chicks'. People squeezed together so she could get closer to the fire. The baby in question was Junior's grandfather.
Tom Munnelly has listened to Junior's stories more than most as he has recorded the tales and bits of folklore for the archives. He said that only in Clare can a person be called a liar and take it as a compliment. Junior was a good liar in the sense that he could spin a very tall tale. He could spin it so credibly that everyone would be taken in. He could tell the most outrageous things but he would have this angelic and serious face that he could make people believe that black was white with no trouble at all. Munnelly described him as having an impish of humour. His daughter Ita recalls the same trait in her father:
Ita blamed Junior for getting her into trouble sometimes when she played tin whistle with him. Ita said with Junior's low speaking voice, the cracks or jokes would be coming out the side of his mouth as they would with a ventriloquist. The person on the other side of him wouldn't know what was going on. They would think that Ita was laughing at them.
"He was a divil. He was full of the divil and always had a lot of yarns and stories. He was very easy-going, very calm and very funny, even though to look at him you mightn't think so. He had a rather solemn face and is never smiling in his pho tographs."
Fairy lore was a source of material for Junior's stories. "Whoever says the fairies are not there, I contradict them, for I was mixed with them since 1 was born."
Tom Munnelly has listened to Junior's stories more than most because he recorded a lot of accounts of contact with 'the other world' or the supernatural. Some people in Clare would express absolute belief. One never knew about Junior, says Munnelly, he would have a twinkle in his eye.
One of Junior's stories was about how he met his wife Cissie. To make a long story short, he was engaged to play fiddle at two house parties. On the way to the first house he had to pass a 'rath' or fairy fort. He played a good many hours and left for the second house. He had to go by the fairy fort again. He saw a little ball of light going to and fro. A voice called out "Stop the Ball'. He did and in payment a little man warned him of danger in the rushes. Then he gave him the present of something like a horseshoe nail to put under the bridge of his fiddle. "If you have a girl in mind, get her up dancing and with this charm, nothing in the world will ever take her from you". There was a nice girl at the second party and he got her up dancing and walked her part of the way home. Her mother was strict and they later had to meet through the hedges when she went to fetch water. Eventually, that girl that danced the reel that night became his wife.
Before the 50s when traditional music had a revival, Junior Crehan kept true to the music besides concentrating on his farm and his family. Farming suited him, said his daughter Ita. He was easygoing in his ways, and could do things at his own pace. He was a man of the soil, of the earth. Everything he planted grew. He was a real farmer. No matter how late he was out, playing music, there were the cows to be milked, the turf to be cut. Each member of the family had their little jobs and mucked in when the hay was to be brought in.
Ita says they didn't have instruments when they were growing up, not like to day where there might be a fiddle, a concertina and a guitar in the same family. His children picked up a love of music. Her father had his fiddle but none of the children would take it down.
After the Second World War interest in Irish music began in North America, Britain and Europe. Cornhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann started up in 1951 to promote Irish music by establishing a series of competitions or Fleadhs around the country. This gave musicians the opportunity to meet one another and maintained standards through contests. At that point there were few musicians left in Clare as most had emigrated.
Junior and his contemporaries in the area had a similar style. For Ita, this style had a beat suitable for dancing. It wasn't fast but it was lively and heart. It is the same west Clare style you hear coming out in Joe Ryan. Tom Munnelly says Clare hasn't been left behind in terms of a fiddling tradition. There are pockets in the county as rich in fiddlers as Cork, Kerry or Donegal.
Besides picking up music from around the community and from travelling musicians, junior learned tunes off old LPs. Tom Lenilian lived in Milltown about seven miles from Bonavilla. Junior would walk with the fiddle on his back to go to his house. Tom gave him the loan of 78 records. Sometimes he'd say to Ita as a record played: "That's a nice tune. Learn it and teach it to me."
Junior was especially fond of slow airs. He would always follow it with some thing lively. Kevin Crehan, his grand son from the U.S., also a fiddler, describes Junior's style as unusual, plainer than most but with a clear execution of ornamentation. The west Clare style has a characteristic sadness (minor and played a little flat to emphasize sadness.) There was a lot of room and air in his dance music. Though it was played slow, it had a lift. He was absolutely unique in playing slow airs. He had a depth of emotion rarely seen anywhere else.
Liam O'Flynn, the legendary uilleann piper and related to Junior through his mother, said the music was an extension of his personality. It had a relaxed almost lonesome quality. As a person Junior was laid back, happy and content. He was a farmer and his way of thinking was in keeping with nature and the rhythm of the seasons.
The awakening of interest in Irish music and culture created a need for
songs, lore and old ways of life to be captured before they disappeared. In west Clare one of the most important sources happened to be Junior. Because of his attractive personality and sense of humour, he quickly made long-lasting friends. One of those was RTE Broadcaster Ciaran McMathuna, who spent a lot of time in Clare and made many recordings of Junior, including those used 'm the Radio documen tary, "The Fires of St. John". He has been going down to Clare from Dublin since the mid-fifties and learned his first set with the Crehan family. McMathuna now has a Sunday Morning radio programme on RTE 1 that highlights traditional music and poetry.
Then came folklorist Tom Munnelly, also from Dublin. He did extensive work with junior Crehan, making the recordings now housed in the Folklore Department at UCD. The result was the inclusion of two lengthy articles in the Irish Folklore Publication Bealoideas, one on Junior's life, and the other on his lore. Munnelly had an interest in die early sixties collecting folklore and music from rural people in Dublin. Asked by the Department of Education to participate in a pilot scheme in 1971 for a few months, it was extended for another two years and then taken over by the Department of Irish Folklore. He's still with the Folklore Depart ment. Eventually he moved permanently to west Clare and built a house between two fairy rings.
Another friend, Muiris Ó’ Rochaín, was instrumental in setting up a traditional music summer school in Milltown Malby. Ó’Rochaín was a teacher and native Gaelic speaker with a love for Irish music and culture. He proposed the idea after the annual conference of Cornhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann in 1973 and discussed the idea with piper Willie Clancy. Unfortunately, Clancy died of a heart attack soon af terwards and the summer school was named after him.
Junior was involved with the school from the outset. He used to go in to play at classes every year. Anyone who had heard of Irish music in Clare had heard of Junior. He was considered one of the best musicians in the area. At the summer school he was the embodiment of west Clare style of fiddle playing. He also told the stories behind the music and the people who played the music.
Ó'Rochaín says he was a very eloquent man and was able to express himself well. His daughter Ita says it was in Junior's nature, if it had to do with traditional music, he would get involved. He didn't have time to help with administration but at the school itself, he would give concerts and Master Classes. He became presi dent and kept that honour until he died. His reputation helped give the summer school authenticity and upheld its high standard and international good name.
His house was also a great source of music. His wife was a great force behind him. Junior had to farm. Ó'Rochaín says he was a model farmer, care ful about his land, his stock and his house.
Contribution to Music
Music was in his head from the time he got up. Junior Crehan was in anything that had to do with traditional music in Clare. With the revival of traditional music, he got busy. He was in a group called the Laichtin Naofa Ceili Band, playing in Milltown in the 50s and early 60s and entering for competition in the fleadhs. Ita plays tin whistle, but she would sometimes play keyboard on stage at fleadhs with him in competitions for piano and fiddle. She was only a girl when the piano player died in the band and she was asked to fill in. She continued to play with him down the years. They also played together at home.
When the pub scene started in the early sixties, Junior played in Quilty. He was the first to play in the pubs. He and Paddy Gallivan and Michael Downs, Mi chael Fossy and John Fennel, JP Down and Joe Kinnen and of course Ita. The bar in Quilty was owned by Martin Casey. When Martin sold the bar, the musicians moved to the Crosses ofAnnagh Pub where Jimmy Gleeson had taken it over. They were there for four years playing every weekend (Friday, Saturday and Sunday). Ita says there were some great nights there. She used to stay the night on Sunday and drive down to Cork where she was living early Monday morning.
Jimmy sold the pub but built his own bar. They started playing there every Sunday night without fail. Ita left Lahinch where she had moved to, went to Bonavilla, picked up Junior who would be standing at the door with his cap on. If she was late, he'd ask what kept her? But he wouldn't be the last coming out. It would start late and go on late. There'd always be someone asking Junior to play another particular song and that would, to exaggerate, take another 90 verses and then there'd be another song, and then another.
He played at Gleeson's for years. He loved his pint of Guinness and his Majors cigarettes, said Nell Gleeson. At Coore he created an atmosphere like the house dances that were banned in 1936. There would be good music and set dancers. Then Junior would invite up singers and step dancers or recitations. He brought a lot of people into the area.
Ita went with Junior all over Ireland and joined almost 30 other musicians on the Bicentennial tour to the States. She said he was a pleasure to travel with. "He was a howl, an absolute howl."
Junior composed both music and songs. There are nineteen or twenty fiddle tunes composed by him, his biggest hit being the jig, The Mist Covered Mountain.. Farewell to Milltown was also popular. About half as many have been forgotten because he didn't write them down.
His vocal songs were about simple things about local people, wren boys, when the ash tree fell down and laments for friends who had passed on. There were two about his fiend the piper, Willie Clancy, another about his brother who died young and of course one about Scully Casey, his mentor.
There is a scarcity of recordings of Junior playing. Ita says there was a record done for some fleadh. They did one recording with the Laichtin Naofa Band, Come to an Irish Dance, a collector's item now. He was on the compilation, The Fiddlers of Clare and RTE Broadcaster Clarán McMathuna collected a lot of raw taped recordings. Young players are listening to a lot of CDs now but not by junior. For him it was more the personal touch. If anybody wanted to learn from him, they would have to sit down and play with him. Most of the new musicians aren't picking up distinctive styles.
Junior has had the honour of being Clareman of the Year. He was Chaitman of the local Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann and President of the Willie Clancy Summer School. Probably the most important tribute was the respect of other musicians m west Clare. Tom Munnelly says that because of his depth of knowledge and generosity, he won the respect of his peers from an early age. Nel Gleeson said he was the most photgraphed musician around. People loved him.
His contribution to the arts in Ireland was not forgotten. The Arts Council commissioned a portrait by Brian Bourke to be presented to him on his 80th birthday and a photographic portrait by Brian's brother Fergus on his 90th.
And the music goes on. His legacy is ongoing. He devoted so much time to people who came along; those interested 'm music, lore, background and local his tory. It is hard to evaluate just how far the ripples of that little pool spread out, not only in Clare but also throughout Ireland. His bequest is that his children and their children, besides nephews and nieces, are practising musicians. In fact one of the nicest tributes is that his grandson Kevin. who is living in the States, produced a CD called Babóg sa Badóg (Baby and Grandad). It is a collection of Junior's tunes and selections from his repertoire played by Kevin on a solo fiddle.
Muiris Ó’Riochaín of the Willie Clancy School says his influence is still pre sent in the different groups that learned from him or shared his tunes. Many of the more famous groups would know him. His tunes have been recorded by Matt Malloy, the Chieftains, Sean Keane, De Dannann. He influenced Paddy Glackin and Liam O'Flynn.
His nephew Mick said that because his uncle was born at the beginning of the last century, he learned so much from him about history, folklore and life in general He listened to him play and picked up tunes from him.
He was both a friend and a great font of knowledge for Tom Munnelly's folk lore collections. He had songs, information about general rural life, other local lore and oral history. Mr. Munnelly said he was one of the most influencial personas of the area. He knew all the musicians, singers and dancers around
Muiris Ó’Riochaín sums up what many other people have expressed concern ing their contact with Junior Crehan. "My own life was enriched by knowing Junior".
His daughter Ita agrees:" I suppose when you look back on it, he was differ ent in his own quiet way. He knew the value of music and the folklore but never saw himself as any different from anyone else. It's the way you are brought up and the people you live amongst, your neighbours." Like them, Ita said he was an ordinary hard-working farmer. The only difference was that the others went to be and got ready for the morning. Junior went out to dances and played music all night where they went to bed and got ready for the next morning. He did it for the music. It was the love of his life.
Looking out of the window of Gleeson's Pub in Corre it is not hard to imagine why every field and hill has a story. A high hill sticks up a little ways off directly in front of the window. The tale went that it had an O'Brien Castle on it during the time of Brian Boru. The castle was destroyed by Cromwell. He found a poet called O'Hogon in the ruins and held him over the ramparts. "Give me a rhyme in my honour", he said, "and I'll spare your life." The poet said he couldn't use his art to praise such a vile creature as Cromwell. He was dropped to his death.
Junior was a great man for the stories and the music. He is greatly missed in west Clare and further a field. His daughter Ita sums up the sentiments of friends, family and fellow musicians.
"He was a divil. He really was. He was full of the old divil and always had a lot of yarns, the music of course and the fun and the crack.
The End
Interviews
Tom Munnelly, Folklorist, interview at his home at Teach Si, Fintan Beg, outside Miltown Malby, Clare on April 3, 2003
Ita Crehan, tin whistle player, school administrator, IT instructor, interviewed at the Atlantic Hotel in Lahinch, Clare on April 7, 2003.
Jimmy and Nellie Gleeson, owners of Gleeson's Pub, Coore, County Clare on April 7, 2003.
Muiris O'Rochain, founder of the Willie Clancy Summer School. Interviewed b by telephone from his home in Miltown Malbay on April 13, 2003.
Mick Crehan, nephew of Junior's, runs the Crane traditional Music Pub in Galway, founder of the Galway School of Irish Traditional Music. Interviewed, The Crane Pub, Sea Road, Galway on April 13, 2003.
Junior Crehan in Bonavilla, Milltown Malby in April 1988 (the story of the big wind)
Bibliography
Peter Carr, The Night of the BigWind, White Row Press, Belfast, 1993, Page 25
Seamus Heaney, Door into the Dark, Faber, 1963
Tom Munnelly, Junior Crehan of Bonavilla, Bealoideas, The journal of the Folklore of Ireland
Society-Vol. 67, Page 59 61
Lisa Shields and D. Fitzgerald, The Night of the B19 Wind in Ireland, 6~7 January 1939, Irish Geography 22, 19 89. Page 3 8
Sean O'Sullabhan, Handbook of Irisb Folklore, Smiging Tree Press, Detroit, 1970
Fintami Vallelly editor, The Companion to Irish TraditionalMusic, Cork University Press, 1999, vol. XVIII
Excerpts ftom The Fiddler, The Irish Times, The Irish Voice and Billboard, from clippings in Nell Gleeson's scrapbook.
Photos By order of Appearance (Will post gradually)
1. Junior Crehan, page 1, official obituary picture
2. O'Brien's Hill, Coore, County Clare, Page 3, by S. Bunting
3. Junior Crehan enjoying a pint and a cigarette. Page5 by Jimmy Gleeson
4. Musicians' Corner, Gleeson's Pub, Page 9, by S. Bunting
5. Junior playing with other Musicians, Page 12, by Jimmy Gleeson
6. Garden to Junior Crehan, Coore, Page 13, by S. Bunting
7. Tribute to Junior on Gleeson's wall, Page 14, by S. Bunting
8. Gleeson's pub from the Outside, Page 15, by S. Bunting
9. Junior's Final Resting Place in Mullach, Page 16, by S. Bunting
One of My Favourite Paintings By Sandra Bunting
We have all wanted to soar high up into the clouds like a bird, a dragon or an airplane, or at least be a passenger, to feel the sense of freedom and closeness to the divine. The Spanish painter, Salvador Dali, takes it a step further and places a figure on a white horse rearing up above the clouds. Looking at the painting, Santiago El Grande, we are left on the ground, small and humble. The sheer size of the painting, 407.67 centimetres high, ensures that we are always looking up at it as if up to heaven itself.
It could be considered more a spiritual painting than a religious one although there are conventional Catholic images. There is a Christ-like figure ascending into what we assume is heaven. The figure on the horse is either trying to catch hold of him or is pointing to him. In a bottom corner a Madonna figure looks us straight in the face.
The use of colour adds to the sense of sacredness. The horse dominates the middle of the painting and like a chameleon; his lower body is white to blend in with the clouds and then turns the celestial blue of a heavenly sky. The sky is bound by what seems to be a golden frame forming a globe through which only the Christ figure appears to be able to enter. It is that predominant blue that attracts draws us in and lifts us into another sphere.
At the bottom, what might represent the ordinary human plane; everything is flat, small and inconsequential. The Madonna is draped in earth tones and looks out with a blank expression compared to what we can imagine is the rapt expression of Santiago (St. James). He is the saint whose bones lie in the Galician pilgrimage cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Spain.
Dali was not without his idiosyncrasies, even in this painting. The Madonna bears the face of Gala, his Russian-born lover and later wife. There are many Dali paintings that intrigue or tease. His earlier work is touching, the melting clocks challenging and his sculptures, for my taste, kitsch. He could be a bit of a chancer and exhibitionist at times.
This is the painting I always go back to. Perhaps it has been embedded in my mind since childhood. The painting Santiago El Grande has a strange home in a small provincial art gallery on the east coast of Canada, in Fredericton, New Brunwsick. Its size is exaggerated in the small room, its value often overlooked by local patrons. However, somehow the blues and whites match perfectly outside with the snow and the crisp blue of a Canadian winter.
A sister painting of around the same size is in a gallery in Glasgow. It is more down to earth with its dark somber tones. I’d rather be up there in the skies.
It could be considered more a spiritual painting than a religious one although there are conventional Catholic images. There is a Christ-like figure ascending into what we assume is heaven. The figure on the horse is either trying to catch hold of him or is pointing to him. In a bottom corner a Madonna figure looks us straight in the face.
The use of colour adds to the sense of sacredness. The horse dominates the middle of the painting and like a chameleon; his lower body is white to blend in with the clouds and then turns the celestial blue of a heavenly sky. The sky is bound by what seems to be a golden frame forming a globe through which only the Christ figure appears to be able to enter. It is that predominant blue that attracts draws us in and lifts us into another sphere.
At the bottom, what might represent the ordinary human plane; everything is flat, small and inconsequential. The Madonna is draped in earth tones and looks out with a blank expression compared to what we can imagine is the rapt expression of Santiago (St. James). He is the saint whose bones lie in the Galician pilgrimage cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Spain.
Dali was not without his idiosyncrasies, even in this painting. The Madonna bears the face of Gala, his Russian-born lover and later wife. There are many Dali paintings that intrigue or tease. His earlier work is touching, the melting clocks challenging and his sculptures, for my taste, kitsch. He could be a bit of a chancer and exhibitionist at times.
This is the painting I always go back to. Perhaps it has been embedded in my mind since childhood. The painting Santiago El Grande has a strange home in a small provincial art gallery on the east coast of Canada, in Fredericton, New Brunwsick. Its size is exaggerated in the small room, its value often overlooked by local patrons. However, somehow the blues and whites match perfectly outside with the snow and the crisp blue of a Canadian winter.
A sister painting of around the same size is in a gallery in Glasgow. It is more down to earth with its dark somber tones. I’d rather be up there in the skies.
Lake of Phantoms By Sandra Bunting
Lough Na Fuaidhe (Fooey)
January 26, 2003
The West of Ireland, notably Connemara, still offers the same wild, lonesome landscape that has fed the soul of many a visitor over the years. Lough na Fuaide, near the Mayo border in Joyce’s Country, has all the elements to give the spirit a needed boost.
Driving up the turn off from the main road you suddenly feel you are moving towards the end of the world, as if the road continued on to nowhere or up to the sky. Sheep are painted in psychedelic colours to show ownership. They will not be stopped from crossing to better grazing on the other side of the road by a mere car.
From the top of the hill It is difficult to decide which way to look as each direction holds something spectacular and almost prehistoric. Looking down is the Lough itself with its deep water full of pike, you could easily imagine it being the playground of plesiosaurs. Beyond the expanse of water rise the hills of Mayo.
To one side streams flow beneath gorged out cliffs. To the other, rusty tears stream down the faces of slumbering giants, those ancient hills. Turning to look back, there are even more mountains. You are surrounded, cut off.
There is a road around the lake leading to isolated farm houses gripping the side of the hills, bungalows most of them, built beside roofless cottages abandoned to sheep. We chose the road leading down to the Lake itself so we could walk a bit. Surprizingly, there was a narrow beach made up of a coarse reddish sand. A few brightly coloured boats lay upside down on the shore.
A wind blew. Shivering, I turned my back to the water to notice a mist or cloud cover getting heavier and lower so that the tops of the nearest hills were no longer visible. I was there in January when the land was particularly bleak but not without its magic. I could imagine Spring and the vibrant yellow of furze, the soft heather tones and the bare, twisted hawthorn tree in bloom. Then a thick black curtain began to slide closer over the hills and large drops of primeval rain descended making us look forward to a hot whisky at Keanes pub in Maam.
You can sit beside the turf fire in the pub listen to the Irish language coming from behind the bar or watch a stooped old man talk to his granddaughter visiting from the city. There is always the mandatory comment about the weather, in this case cold.
Coming from Galway City, go through Moycullen, the trout-fishing town of Oughterard and on to Maam Cross (Teach Doite - Burnt House) Turn right at Peacock’s bar and restaurant, right at Keane’s Pub in Maam and then take the first left to Lough Na Fuaidhe. There is a sweater shop located at the turn.
At the lake you take a last look.. The enormity of the mountains makes you focus. It’s as if the big questions of life are taken care of. You feel free to wonder about the small things in life. Why was a Wellington boot placed upturned over a fence post outside Oughterard, and would it still be there on the way back?
January 26, 2003
The West of Ireland, notably Connemara, still offers the same wild, lonesome landscape that has fed the soul of many a visitor over the years. Lough na Fuaide, near the Mayo border in Joyce’s Country, has all the elements to give the spirit a needed boost.
Driving up the turn off from the main road you suddenly feel you are moving towards the end of the world, as if the road continued on to nowhere or up to the sky. Sheep are painted in psychedelic colours to show ownership. They will not be stopped from crossing to better grazing on the other side of the road by a mere car.
From the top of the hill It is difficult to decide which way to look as each direction holds something spectacular and almost prehistoric. Looking down is the Lough itself with its deep water full of pike, you could easily imagine it being the playground of plesiosaurs. Beyond the expanse of water rise the hills of Mayo.
To one side streams flow beneath gorged out cliffs. To the other, rusty tears stream down the faces of slumbering giants, those ancient hills. Turning to look back, there are even more mountains. You are surrounded, cut off.
There is a road around the lake leading to isolated farm houses gripping the side of the hills, bungalows most of them, built beside roofless cottages abandoned to sheep. We chose the road leading down to the Lake itself so we could walk a bit. Surprizingly, there was a narrow beach made up of a coarse reddish sand. A few brightly coloured boats lay upside down on the shore.
A wind blew. Shivering, I turned my back to the water to notice a mist or cloud cover getting heavier and lower so that the tops of the nearest hills were no longer visible. I was there in January when the land was particularly bleak but not without its magic. I could imagine Spring and the vibrant yellow of furze, the soft heather tones and the bare, twisted hawthorn tree in bloom. Then a thick black curtain began to slide closer over the hills and large drops of primeval rain descended making us look forward to a hot whisky at Keanes pub in Maam.
You can sit beside the turf fire in the pub listen to the Irish language coming from behind the bar or watch a stooped old man talk to his granddaughter visiting from the city. There is always the mandatory comment about the weather, in this case cold.
Coming from Galway City, go through Moycullen, the trout-fishing town of Oughterard and on to Maam Cross (Teach Doite - Burnt House) Turn right at Peacock’s bar and restaurant, right at Keane’s Pub in Maam and then take the first left to Lough Na Fuaidhe. There is a sweater shop located at the turn.
At the lake you take a last look.. The enormity of the mountains makes you focus. It’s as if the big questions of life are taken care of. You feel free to wonder about the small things in life. Why was a Wellington boot placed upturned over a fence post outside Oughterard, and would it still be there on the way back?
A Mountain In Spain By sandra Bunting
It is increasingly hard to find a good quality of life where one can live simply but economically, be creative, free from stress and allow your children to roam free. English and people of other nationalities moved in droves to the Celtic areas of Ireland, Scotland and Wales in the last few years looking for a life where ideals would not have to be compromised and where they could live in a more natural, un-materialistic way. Now many, disillusioned by the development of those same countries, are looking to move on once again. The mountains of Spain, near the Costa del Sol, may offer just what they are looking for.
The Spanish government is now trying to encourage development of the region by local and foreign investors interested in farming and rural tourism. It has no interest in the intensive construction that was carried out on the nearby coast but it wants to ensure a thriving local economy. Many of the farmers are getting old, their families living on the coast, other parts of Spain or abroad. The Genal Valley in the Ronda Mountain Range has been preserved basically because of its inaccessibility. The tons of granite that make up the mountain range keep out all but the adventurous. At the top, the coast of Africa can be seen. Further up still on a dirt road to the Pinas Blanca at 1200 metres, there is a type of pine that survived the ice age making it one of the oldest species of tree in the world today. These slopes host the pretty little white villages of Jubrique, Genalguacil, Juzcar, Farajan, Cartijima and others.
March in Ireland was particularly bad this year with high winds, rain and even thunder and lightening. Added to that is the fact that prices here are going up every day. Surfing the internet, I saw a site of reasonably priced property in southern Spain. A change of lifestyle, temporarily at least, may be an option to be able to survive while writing my obra maestra. With cheap flights through the internet, I decided to check it out.
The estate agency is run by a man from Dublin who has lived in the southern mountainous part of Andalucia for 15 years .I flew from Dublin to Malaga via Barcelona and then rented a car for the drive down the Costa del Sol. The road to the village started at a turn to the left in Estepona at the third traffic light up the hill. It quickly began its steep ascent around narrow curves that clung to the side of the mountain. I knew immediately that this was the wrong place for me. The intense fear of heights made my heart pump. My muscles seized up and my hands gripped the wheel tightly. I went slowly, about 10 kilometres an hour, and wanted to turn back. There was nowhere to turn. There was nothing here, only mountains, forests of oak and streams trickling through granite. This could only be seen out of the corner of my eye. I was afraid to look down, afraid to look away from the road.
A young man appeared on the road. I stopped the car. He was drinking water from a bottle.
“How far is it to Jubrique?” I asked.
“Thirty-five kilometres,” he smiled, a good looking man with a friendly personality, he was on his way back to the coast after climbing up.
“For sport, for exercise,” he said.
"I’m frightened,” I said.
He told me to take it easy and to stop at the monument for a break and that the road after that was better.
“The water’s good there too. From the mountains.” He held up his bottle.
The car was hard to start again on the incline. I gripped the wheel even tighter. Higher and higher I climbed. After another half hour at creeping along, I came to a place I could stop. Nothing felt secure. I put the handbrake on but didn’t trust it. There was a little stream just a short climb down some rocks. I was dying of thirst but was worried that couldn’t get up the rocks again. I stopped at the monument briefly and looked at the tiled “sign” showing the wonderful nature in the area.
Jubrique is the first sign of civilization after the Estepona turn-off because the 35 kilometer road winds itself through a national mountain park. An old Berber settlement in “Bandit Country”, it is a warren of narrow streets. The small houses glimmering white in the sun against wrought iron balconies and an abundance of potted plants. Orange trees grow and occasionally fruit falls heavily to the ground. I wondered why none of the older residents sat under the trees. I wasn’t long in finding out. However, the oranges didn’t all fall on my head. Some fell more gently to the ground. They were juicy and tasty.
The village has an old church, a square with a fountain and benches, a village hall, several small shops (for necessities only). I couldn’t buy a map or a disposable camera. One shop had no toothpaste but told me to go to the other shop to get it. When I said I wanted water, they directed me to a mountain spring outside the town. There are a few bars and I was told more are open in summer. The one hotel, aptly called The Mountain Hotel, is at the end of the village. It is clean and pleasant. Rooms have private bath and television, food is available all day and there is a laundry service. The people who work there quickly become friends. From the rooms and the terrace, the view is spectacular. In the distance, peak after peak tries to outdo each other. In daytime the other villages sparkle in their whiteness on another peak. At night their lights look like a cluster of stars.
Across the street from the hotel there is a sharp drop up from which dart sheep, goats and mules under the perfume of almond and lemon trees. A swimming pool and club sits up at the very top of the slope. I would suggest walking as it is almost a complete vertical incline, strenuous exercise but much less frightening than wondering if the car will make it. Jubrique is very much a living community. There is a primary and a secondary school. Children play football and ride bicycles up and down the steep rise of the hill. Miniature dogs, as if they were of a breed unique to the area, were everywhere. I was told that they bark as loud and eat less than a larger dog.
The office of La Mohea Properties is located in the village. It is run by a man from Dublin who has lived in the area for the last 15 years and has been developing his own organic farm nearby. In English he is Rory. In Spanish, he is Don Miguel de la Mohea, proof that in this mountainous terrain it is easy to reinvent yourself. He is a busy man and stands out against the slower pace of other residents. His mobile phone is continually going off as he deals with tours of agricultural students from France wanting to visit local farms to couples flying in to buy farms. He showed me a couple of houses. They were small. Some were in need of work. Others, depending on the price, were ready to walk into. They all had spectacular views and friendly neighbours. There was not a building Rory didn’t know the history of and how it could be improved. An old olive oil press occupying a good sized building, featured in his plans for the area: to find someone to buy it and set it up as an organic press.
“The way real estate works in the interior of Malaga region is that the agent puts the buyer together with the owner and they negotiate, ” he said.
However, only serious offers reach that stage. The next day I toured farms with a Welsh couple who were considering moving here permanently. They had been looking at several sites the day before. Many of them were deeper in the valley making access only possible by mule. The ones I viewed with them were easier to get to. One was absolutely stunning. There was a small house, a swimming pool and an outside stone oven. There was a good sized piece of horizontal land, a gully, terraced land and a river at the bottom. The couple were planning to work the land and do agri-tourism with mule trekking, camping and any other scheme that would provide sufficient income to allow them to live there. Their two young sons were not with them. While enthused about being able to offer them a freer childhood, they were concerned that they would be too isolated, the farms too inaccessible.
It isn’t hard to be completely taken by the romantic vision of going up and down the mountain but realistically it would mean a lot of hard work to take on a project like this. It is not to say that it would not be worth every bit of it. But it would not be easy.
Of course for me it was not an option. I had no background in agriculture, no-one in our family was good at fixing things (I have been waiting a year for someone to come and replace a pane of glass) and my extreme fear of heights made me cling tighter than I ever had before to the car or anything that seemed remotely solid before venturing a peak down a mountain slope or cliff. It is ironic that I felt so wobbly when under me were huge piles of solid rock.
As an animal lover, I cursed my vertigo as I discovered more of what the valley had to offer in terms of flora and fauna. The domesticated variety included mules, sheep, goats, chickens and those delightful black pigs that feed on acorns. The free-range animals were lively, intelligent and sociable; a pleasant change from those brought up in crowded conditions under intensive farming. On the wild side, there were boars, mountain goats, deer, polecats, wild cats besides birds of prey such as eagles, falcons, owls and vultures. One of my favourite creatures is the chameleon which decorates walls and floors as it basks in the sun.
The colours of the valley are unusual and don’t exist further west. The Genel Valley has deep orangey-red soil covered with green pine, oak and fir forests. Besides vegetables the farms produce walnuts, chestnuts, almonds, and olives. Prickly Pear cacti, higher than a man, grow together to form hedges. Fruit trees are heavy with avocados, kiwis, oranges and lemons providing lush tones and fragrances. Water streams down from the mountains, twists lower down in the form of the Genal River or rushes down in little falls, perfect for bathing under.
The Genal Valley is just part of the mountainous region of central Andalucia, the Serranía de Ronda. There are two other distinctive valleys, to the west and to the north, joined by the Ronda plain in the middle. The mountains open up and cause a less claustrophobic feeling closer to the city of Ronda although the hills are not as striking as in the valley, being stonier and treeless.
Ronda itself is charming with old churches, palm trees, plazas and parks. It was nice to see shops again. One could almost be deceived into thinking it was at sea level until contact with the Paseo de los Ingléses, the English promenade, which hugged a semi circular cliff or looking down on the famous Arab Gorge which cuts the city in tow. It is joined by a narrow bridge. However, after a few hours of camera-snapping tourists I was happy to return again to the relative isolation of the Genial Valley.
Back on the terrace of the hotel in Jubrique, watching the sun go down behind mounds of solid rock with only the sounds of sheep and a rooster, it is hard to believe that this is only a few kilometres from the frenzy of the Costa del Sol. There's sun here but the atmosphere is relaxed. Rory at La Mohea is working hard to prevent the same kind of over-development from taking place in the valley. With other farmers in the area, he is promoting a mixed idea of self-sufficiency and low impact, low density agri-tourism. His methods go a step further than organic. Although not a farmer, I find the concept interesting and important. Permaculture is the design of a farming area in such away that production is improved through a mixture of traditional and modern methods. It is shaping or placing things next to each other for mutual benefit. For example, something could be planted for shade, something else to retain water, flowers that attract bees could be placed near fruit trees that need to be pollinated. Buildings would fit in with the landscape and people would respect the land. It is like creating a little Paradise. Plants, animals, people and microorganisms benefit from shared interaction. Idealistically, it is perfect. But it is hard work.
When not selling Real Estate, La Mohea offers holidays at his farm. You can study permaculture, just have an ecological vacation or be a volunteer worker on the ranch. The brochure invites you to enter another world, a simple way of life dictated by what is around you. The ranch house is old, built in a traditional style with solar-generated electricity and very few modern conveniences. Outside there are just the cultivated banks, fresh air, forests and mountains.
Unfortunately, I could not appreciate all this at the time. I was worried about getting over the mountains to get back to Ireland. There was no way I could drive by myself. I was going to go down by taxi from Ronda and ask another taxi to drive my rented car. There was no way I could drive over those roads again. So when the Welsh couple offered to drive me and take my car, I jumped at it.
We went a different way this time. It was a twisty dirt road through after the next village of Genalguacil with fallen boulders and uprooted pine trees strewn across the path. I clutched the side of the seats and kept dark sunglasses on so I couldn't see that we were literally hanging over the bends. A mist lowered itself upon us. I was glad to be back on the coast before nightfall. The couple said a quick goodbye. They were anxious to get back.
The motorway to Malaga was busy. The city was full of palm trees, large stately buildings and a busy port. I treated myself to tapas and wine before going to sleep in a small hotel. Now that Ryan Air has announced direct flights from Dublin-Malaga, I would definitely go back. However, I mightn't climb so high next time.
The Spanish government is now trying to encourage development of the region by local and foreign investors interested in farming and rural tourism. It has no interest in the intensive construction that was carried out on the nearby coast but it wants to ensure a thriving local economy. Many of the farmers are getting old, their families living on the coast, other parts of Spain or abroad. The Genal Valley in the Ronda Mountain Range has been preserved basically because of its inaccessibility. The tons of granite that make up the mountain range keep out all but the adventurous. At the top, the coast of Africa can be seen. Further up still on a dirt road to the Pinas Blanca at 1200 metres, there is a type of pine that survived the ice age making it one of the oldest species of tree in the world today. These slopes host the pretty little white villages of Jubrique, Genalguacil, Juzcar, Farajan, Cartijima and others.
March in Ireland was particularly bad this year with high winds, rain and even thunder and lightening. Added to that is the fact that prices here are going up every day. Surfing the internet, I saw a site of reasonably priced property in southern Spain. A change of lifestyle, temporarily at least, may be an option to be able to survive while writing my obra maestra. With cheap flights through the internet, I decided to check it out.
The estate agency is run by a man from Dublin who has lived in the southern mountainous part of Andalucia for 15 years .I flew from Dublin to Malaga via Barcelona and then rented a car for the drive down the Costa del Sol. The road to the village started at a turn to the left in Estepona at the third traffic light up the hill. It quickly began its steep ascent around narrow curves that clung to the side of the mountain. I knew immediately that this was the wrong place for me. The intense fear of heights made my heart pump. My muscles seized up and my hands gripped the wheel tightly. I went slowly, about 10 kilometres an hour, and wanted to turn back. There was nowhere to turn. There was nothing here, only mountains, forests of oak and streams trickling through granite. This could only be seen out of the corner of my eye. I was afraid to look down, afraid to look away from the road.
A young man appeared on the road. I stopped the car. He was drinking water from a bottle.
“How far is it to Jubrique?” I asked.
“Thirty-five kilometres,” he smiled, a good looking man with a friendly personality, he was on his way back to the coast after climbing up.
“For sport, for exercise,” he said.
"I’m frightened,” I said.
He told me to take it easy and to stop at the monument for a break and that the road after that was better.
“The water’s good there too. From the mountains.” He held up his bottle.
The car was hard to start again on the incline. I gripped the wheel even tighter. Higher and higher I climbed. After another half hour at creeping along, I came to a place I could stop. Nothing felt secure. I put the handbrake on but didn’t trust it. There was a little stream just a short climb down some rocks. I was dying of thirst but was worried that couldn’t get up the rocks again. I stopped at the monument briefly and looked at the tiled “sign” showing the wonderful nature in the area.
Jubrique is the first sign of civilization after the Estepona turn-off because the 35 kilometer road winds itself through a national mountain park. An old Berber settlement in “Bandit Country”, it is a warren of narrow streets. The small houses glimmering white in the sun against wrought iron balconies and an abundance of potted plants. Orange trees grow and occasionally fruit falls heavily to the ground. I wondered why none of the older residents sat under the trees. I wasn’t long in finding out. However, the oranges didn’t all fall on my head. Some fell more gently to the ground. They were juicy and tasty.
The village has an old church, a square with a fountain and benches, a village hall, several small shops (for necessities only). I couldn’t buy a map or a disposable camera. One shop had no toothpaste but told me to go to the other shop to get it. When I said I wanted water, they directed me to a mountain spring outside the town. There are a few bars and I was told more are open in summer. The one hotel, aptly called The Mountain Hotel, is at the end of the village. It is clean and pleasant. Rooms have private bath and television, food is available all day and there is a laundry service. The people who work there quickly become friends. From the rooms and the terrace, the view is spectacular. In the distance, peak after peak tries to outdo each other. In daytime the other villages sparkle in their whiteness on another peak. At night their lights look like a cluster of stars.
Across the street from the hotel there is a sharp drop up from which dart sheep, goats and mules under the perfume of almond and lemon trees. A swimming pool and club sits up at the very top of the slope. I would suggest walking as it is almost a complete vertical incline, strenuous exercise but much less frightening than wondering if the car will make it. Jubrique is very much a living community. There is a primary and a secondary school. Children play football and ride bicycles up and down the steep rise of the hill. Miniature dogs, as if they were of a breed unique to the area, were everywhere. I was told that they bark as loud and eat less than a larger dog.
The office of La Mohea Properties is located in the village. It is run by a man from Dublin who has lived in the area for the last 15 years and has been developing his own organic farm nearby. In English he is Rory. In Spanish, he is Don Miguel de la Mohea, proof that in this mountainous terrain it is easy to reinvent yourself. He is a busy man and stands out against the slower pace of other residents. His mobile phone is continually going off as he deals with tours of agricultural students from France wanting to visit local farms to couples flying in to buy farms. He showed me a couple of houses. They were small. Some were in need of work. Others, depending on the price, were ready to walk into. They all had spectacular views and friendly neighbours. There was not a building Rory didn’t know the history of and how it could be improved. An old olive oil press occupying a good sized building, featured in his plans for the area: to find someone to buy it and set it up as an organic press.
“The way real estate works in the interior of Malaga region is that the agent puts the buyer together with the owner and they negotiate, ” he said.
However, only serious offers reach that stage. The next day I toured farms with a Welsh couple who were considering moving here permanently. They had been looking at several sites the day before. Many of them were deeper in the valley making access only possible by mule. The ones I viewed with them were easier to get to. One was absolutely stunning. There was a small house, a swimming pool and an outside stone oven. There was a good sized piece of horizontal land, a gully, terraced land and a river at the bottom. The couple were planning to work the land and do agri-tourism with mule trekking, camping and any other scheme that would provide sufficient income to allow them to live there. Their two young sons were not with them. While enthused about being able to offer them a freer childhood, they were concerned that they would be too isolated, the farms too inaccessible.
It isn’t hard to be completely taken by the romantic vision of going up and down the mountain but realistically it would mean a lot of hard work to take on a project like this. It is not to say that it would not be worth every bit of it. But it would not be easy.
Of course for me it was not an option. I had no background in agriculture, no-one in our family was good at fixing things (I have been waiting a year for someone to come and replace a pane of glass) and my extreme fear of heights made me cling tighter than I ever had before to the car or anything that seemed remotely solid before venturing a peak down a mountain slope or cliff. It is ironic that I felt so wobbly when under me were huge piles of solid rock.
As an animal lover, I cursed my vertigo as I discovered more of what the valley had to offer in terms of flora and fauna. The domesticated variety included mules, sheep, goats, chickens and those delightful black pigs that feed on acorns. The free-range animals were lively, intelligent and sociable; a pleasant change from those brought up in crowded conditions under intensive farming. On the wild side, there were boars, mountain goats, deer, polecats, wild cats besides birds of prey such as eagles, falcons, owls and vultures. One of my favourite creatures is the chameleon which decorates walls and floors as it basks in the sun.
The colours of the valley are unusual and don’t exist further west. The Genel Valley has deep orangey-red soil covered with green pine, oak and fir forests. Besides vegetables the farms produce walnuts, chestnuts, almonds, and olives. Prickly Pear cacti, higher than a man, grow together to form hedges. Fruit trees are heavy with avocados, kiwis, oranges and lemons providing lush tones and fragrances. Water streams down from the mountains, twists lower down in the form of the Genal River or rushes down in little falls, perfect for bathing under.
The Genal Valley is just part of the mountainous region of central Andalucia, the Serranía de Ronda. There are two other distinctive valleys, to the west and to the north, joined by the Ronda plain in the middle. The mountains open up and cause a less claustrophobic feeling closer to the city of Ronda although the hills are not as striking as in the valley, being stonier and treeless.
Ronda itself is charming with old churches, palm trees, plazas and parks. It was nice to see shops again. One could almost be deceived into thinking it was at sea level until contact with the Paseo de los Ingléses, the English promenade, which hugged a semi circular cliff or looking down on the famous Arab Gorge which cuts the city in tow. It is joined by a narrow bridge. However, after a few hours of camera-snapping tourists I was happy to return again to the relative isolation of the Genial Valley.
Back on the terrace of the hotel in Jubrique, watching the sun go down behind mounds of solid rock with only the sounds of sheep and a rooster, it is hard to believe that this is only a few kilometres from the frenzy of the Costa del Sol. There's sun here but the atmosphere is relaxed. Rory at La Mohea is working hard to prevent the same kind of over-development from taking place in the valley. With other farmers in the area, he is promoting a mixed idea of self-sufficiency and low impact, low density agri-tourism. His methods go a step further than organic. Although not a farmer, I find the concept interesting and important. Permaculture is the design of a farming area in such away that production is improved through a mixture of traditional and modern methods. It is shaping or placing things next to each other for mutual benefit. For example, something could be planted for shade, something else to retain water, flowers that attract bees could be placed near fruit trees that need to be pollinated. Buildings would fit in with the landscape and people would respect the land. It is like creating a little Paradise. Plants, animals, people and microorganisms benefit from shared interaction. Idealistically, it is perfect. But it is hard work.
When not selling Real Estate, La Mohea offers holidays at his farm. You can study permaculture, just have an ecological vacation or be a volunteer worker on the ranch. The brochure invites you to enter another world, a simple way of life dictated by what is around you. The ranch house is old, built in a traditional style with solar-generated electricity and very few modern conveniences. Outside there are just the cultivated banks, fresh air, forests and mountains.
Unfortunately, I could not appreciate all this at the time. I was worried about getting over the mountains to get back to Ireland. There was no way I could drive by myself. I was going to go down by taxi from Ronda and ask another taxi to drive my rented car. There was no way I could drive over those roads again. So when the Welsh couple offered to drive me and take my car, I jumped at it.
We went a different way this time. It was a twisty dirt road through after the next village of Genalguacil with fallen boulders and uprooted pine trees strewn across the path. I clutched the side of the seats and kept dark sunglasses on so I couldn't see that we were literally hanging over the bends. A mist lowered itself upon us. I was glad to be back on the coast before nightfall. The couple said a quick goodbye. They were anxious to get back.
The motorway to Malaga was busy. The city was full of palm trees, large stately buildings and a busy port. I treated myself to tapas and wine before going to sleep in a small hotel. Now that Ryan Air has announced direct flights from Dublin-Malaga, I would definitely go back. However, I mightn't climb so high next time.
Connecting Irish Travellers With the Mi'kmaq by Sandra Bunting
Connecting Irish Travellers with the Canadian Mi’kmaq
By Sandra Bunting
You may not think that Irish travellers have much in common with the New Brunswick Mi’kmaq. However, a group of academics are looking into similarities of the two groups. One of those involved in the study is Dr. Niall McElwee, a Social Science consultant living in County Galway.
Dr. McElwee became interested in the culture and languages of Canada’s First Nation people after attending a conference in Banff in 2001. The opening prayer in front of the thousand delegates was given by an Ojibwa man. Before he started he apologised in advance for not being able to say the whole prayer in his own language. This struck a chord with Dr. McElwee. In Ireland today, Irish (or Gaelic) is spoken pockets, English being the dominant language. The irony was not lost on him that the Irish had contributed to the loss of First Nation language through their running of residential schools in Canada.
That event in the west of the country started him on a journey to examine his own Irishness and explore connections between Canada’s First Nation and Ireland’s Traveller Community. In previous work and study, McElwee was surprised that the world’s top scholars in the field of Child and Youth in Social Science knew nothing about Irish Travellers although they were familiar with the different communities of First Nation people.
Dr. McElwee became interested in Canada long before he first went there. His Aunt Norma, a journalist, lived in Vancouver for about 25 years before moving to London, and used to send him literature and information on first nation peoples. After studying English, politics and Sociology at NUI, Galway, McElwee went on to complete a PhD in Youth and Child Care in Cork. In 1992 he worked with residential childcare, prostitution issues, Travellers and manned a student help line. As the editor of the Irish Journal of Applied Social Studies, he received one or two articles from Canada and formed connections with the University of Victoria, the University of Alberta and the New Brunswick Community College in Miramichi on the east coast of Canada.
It was in Miramichi that the research into connections between the Mi’kmaq and the Irish Travellers became formalised. A research team was formed with McElwee and his wife Susan McKenna forming the Irish side, interviewing First Nation Peoples in their communities (Reserves) of Big Cove, Eel Ground and Burnt Church. The interviews include participants of all ages. McElwee remembers a series of interviews with several generations of the same family. The Grandmother spoke only Mi’kmaq, her daughters spoke both Mi’kmaq and English and the children only spoke English.
In turn two researchers from New Brunswick, Margaret Sullivan and Lisa Durrett, have been documenting the lives of Travellers in Ireland. Preliminary findings are being presented to each community, not an easy task as it has to be vetted by the Native councils on one side and will go before a central Travellers’ Committee in Dublin on the other side.
The research will be collected into a book, which will include other elements such as poetry and drawings of both Travellers and First Nation Peoples, traditional stories interwoven with personal accounts of the four researchers. Dr. McElwee, who is working out of the Athlone Institute of Technology, also has experience in creative writing and edited a literary journal for several years.
The researchers are exploring the connections and the differences of these two geographically-separated groups. It is bound to be controversial. On first glance, many of the same social problems have occurred in both communities. The big questions being asked are what is it to be a member of the First Nation people in Canada or a Traveller in Ireland. It examines the definitions by Modernists and by Traditionalists. The study is interested in the influence of the iconography of each of the groups, the common fascination with fire and horses. It looks at differences in terms of space: the reserve which is contained in a large track of land and the Travellers halting site which is crowded and just enough space for a caravan. But in the end, both groups are enclosed, contained.
The study does not attempt to say that Irish Travellers are the same as the Mi’himaqs or that they are genealogically related. However, researchers are intrigued by the name Ward, which is prevalent in both groups.
By Sandra Bunting
You may not think that Irish travellers have much in common with the New Brunswick Mi’kmaq. However, a group of academics are looking into similarities of the two groups. One of those involved in the study is Dr. Niall McElwee, a Social Science consultant living in County Galway.
Dr. McElwee became interested in the culture and languages of Canada’s First Nation people after attending a conference in Banff in 2001. The opening prayer in front of the thousand delegates was given by an Ojibwa man. Before he started he apologised in advance for not being able to say the whole prayer in his own language. This struck a chord with Dr. McElwee. In Ireland today, Irish (or Gaelic) is spoken pockets, English being the dominant language. The irony was not lost on him that the Irish had contributed to the loss of First Nation language through their running of residential schools in Canada.
That event in the west of the country started him on a journey to examine his own Irishness and explore connections between Canada’s First Nation and Ireland’s Traveller Community. In previous work and study, McElwee was surprised that the world’s top scholars in the field of Child and Youth in Social Science knew nothing about Irish Travellers although they were familiar with the different communities of First Nation people.
Dr. McElwee became interested in Canada long before he first went there. His Aunt Norma, a journalist, lived in Vancouver for about 25 years before moving to London, and used to send him literature and information on first nation peoples. After studying English, politics and Sociology at NUI, Galway, McElwee went on to complete a PhD in Youth and Child Care in Cork. In 1992 he worked with residential childcare, prostitution issues, Travellers and manned a student help line. As the editor of the Irish Journal of Applied Social Studies, he received one or two articles from Canada and formed connections with the University of Victoria, the University of Alberta and the New Brunswick Community College in Miramichi on the east coast of Canada.
It was in Miramichi that the research into connections between the Mi’kmaq and the Irish Travellers became formalised. A research team was formed with McElwee and his wife Susan McKenna forming the Irish side, interviewing First Nation Peoples in their communities (Reserves) of Big Cove, Eel Ground and Burnt Church. The interviews include participants of all ages. McElwee remembers a series of interviews with several generations of the same family. The Grandmother spoke only Mi’kmaq, her daughters spoke both Mi’kmaq and English and the children only spoke English.
In turn two researchers from New Brunswick, Margaret Sullivan and Lisa Durrett, have been documenting the lives of Travellers in Ireland. Preliminary findings are being presented to each community, not an easy task as it has to be vetted by the Native councils on one side and will go before a central Travellers’ Committee in Dublin on the other side.
The research will be collected into a book, which will include other elements such as poetry and drawings of both Travellers and First Nation Peoples, traditional stories interwoven with personal accounts of the four researchers. Dr. McElwee, who is working out of the Athlone Institute of Technology, also has experience in creative writing and edited a literary journal for several years.
The researchers are exploring the connections and the differences of these two geographically-separated groups. It is bound to be controversial. On first glance, many of the same social problems have occurred in both communities. The big questions being asked are what is it to be a member of the First Nation people in Canada or a Traveller in Ireland. It examines the definitions by Modernists and by Traditionalists. The study is interested in the influence of the iconography of each of the groups, the common fascination with fire and horses. It looks at differences in terms of space: the reserve which is contained in a large track of land and the Travellers halting site which is crowded and just enough space for a caravan. But in the end, both groups are enclosed, contained.
The study does not attempt to say that Irish Travellers are the same as the Mi’himaqs or that they are genealogically related. However, researchers are intrigued by the name Ward, which is prevalent in both groups.
Everyone's at it...even the Mayor
Mayor Brian Walsh of Galway set up his blog several months ago upon the urging of Brendan Smith of DERI so that he could advise the public what he was doing as mayor, what he was involved in and what he thought about various issues. Although Mayor Walsh has not been able to update his posts on a regular basis due to a hectic schedule, he has had an good start.
Blogs can be used in many different ways and the mayor says he is impressed with what he has seen. Non-nationals use it to give news and contact home. Mayor Walsh has read blogs by members the African community in Galway who have been using this technology. The Mayor was also able to benefit first hand from a blog when invited to a wedding in Austria. Information and directions were posted allowing guests to access the blog.
So, What’s the Mayor been doing? Check out his blog at:www.brianwalsh2005@blogspot.com
However, it may be a while until he can update it and use it as he would like to do. The demands of the job just don’t allow him the time at the present moment.
One project, and accompanying blog, that Brian Walsh is proud of, is the planned Mayoral Youth Conference planned for May 2 at the Radisson Hotel in Galway. The day is focussed on issues of concern to secondary school students such as drugs, alcohol, self-harm and suicide, mental health and diet and fitness issues among other things. The conference will use a variety of ways to engage active participation of young people. Besides a panel of experts being on hand, drama and other activities will be used.
Mayor Walsh has allocated part of his Mayor’s allowance to go towards the project and hopes it will continue in the future.
Comments, ideas and feedback on the conference are welcome.
Go to www.mayorsyouthconference06@blogspot.ie
Blogs can be used in many different ways and the mayor says he is impressed with what he has seen. Non-nationals use it to give news and contact home. Mayor Walsh has read blogs by members the African community in Galway who have been using this technology. The Mayor was also able to benefit first hand from a blog when invited to a wedding in Austria. Information and directions were posted allowing guests to access the blog.
So, What’s the Mayor been doing? Check out his blog at:www.brianwalsh2005@blogspot.com
However, it may be a while until he can update it and use it as he would like to do. The demands of the job just don’t allow him the time at the present moment.
One project, and accompanying blog, that Brian Walsh is proud of, is the planned Mayoral Youth Conference planned for May 2 at the Radisson Hotel in Galway. The day is focussed on issues of concern to secondary school students such as drugs, alcohol, self-harm and suicide, mental health and diet and fitness issues among other things. The conference will use a variety of ways to engage active participation of young people. Besides a panel of experts being on hand, drama and other activities will be used.
Mayor Walsh has allocated part of his Mayor’s allowance to go towards the project and hopes it will continue in the future.
Comments, ideas and feedback on the conference are welcome.
Go to www.mayorsyouthconference06@blogspot.ie
Knock Knock- A Celebration of Community by Sandra Bunting
Residents of the area off Henry St. known as ‘the West’ were featured in a stunning photo exhibition during the month of June at the Galway Arts Centre. The project, called Knock Knock, was the idea of photographer Jane Talbot who recreated the neighbourhood’s streets on the Arts Centre walls by taking pictures of people outside their houses. The result is a vibrant document of life in the centre of Galway.
It didn’t happen overnight. The idea was rolling around in Jane’s head for a long time. She had originally wanted to do the project on her old street in her native Donegal. Coming to Galway to work with Macnas in 1988, she finally settled in ‘the West’ a little over seven years ago.
“It couldn’t really be done until now because of the technology,” said Jane. “It would have been too expensive.” She explained that by using a digital camera, unwanted shots could be erased easily. The computer programme Photoshop allowed her to go back and line things up and even out footpaths to create a harmonious whole.
Besides being a resident herself, ‘the West’ proved to be an interesting subject. Jane pointed out what she considers its lovely architectural harmony. “The only difference in the houses is the colour,” she said. “Visually, it is very pleasing.” A clear identity and the strong sense of community in the area also appealed to her. “People look out for each other. Kids still play in the streets,” she said.
Besides being an artistic expression, Knock Knock is also a social exploration as Jane visited the residents of each house to plan photo sessions. A comment at the launch was that the project was a visual. Indeed Jane discovered a rich mixture of people, from families of several generations to a small multicultural mix of Poles, Hungarians, Italians and Spanish. There is also a successful merging of homeowners, private tenants and social housing.
Jane applauds the residents for their participation. “The positive aspect of this project was to see how people are willing to step forward and be counted in the community,” she said, adding the inter-relations among the residents and the general warmth of the area is noticeable in the photographs.
Jane Talbot studied photography under Joe Geoghegan and Terry Russell. Besides being a photographer, she works as a freelance stage manager with GYT, Town Hall Theatre Productions and Fibín Puppet Company. Not a stranger to community involvement, Jane is in charge of flowers and bush planting of in ‘the West”, the Small Crane and other spots.
The effectiveness of the exhibition is demonstrated by comments by residents on the canal side of Henry St., not officially in ‘the West’, wishing that they had been included.
It’s not every day that you can get everyone out on the street together. Another comment was that: “I knew all the dogs. Now I know the people.”
It didn’t happen overnight. The idea was rolling around in Jane’s head for a long time. She had originally wanted to do the project on her old street in her native Donegal. Coming to Galway to work with Macnas in 1988, she finally settled in ‘the West’ a little over seven years ago.
“It couldn’t really be done until now because of the technology,” said Jane. “It would have been too expensive.” She explained that by using a digital camera, unwanted shots could be erased easily. The computer programme Photoshop allowed her to go back and line things up and even out footpaths to create a harmonious whole.
Besides being a resident herself, ‘the West’ proved to be an interesting subject. Jane pointed out what she considers its lovely architectural harmony. “The only difference in the houses is the colour,” she said. “Visually, it is very pleasing.” A clear identity and the strong sense of community in the area also appealed to her. “People look out for each other. Kids still play in the streets,” she said.
Besides being an artistic expression, Knock Knock is also a social exploration as Jane visited the residents of each house to plan photo sessions. A comment at the launch was that the project was a visual. Indeed Jane discovered a rich mixture of people, from families of several generations to a small multicultural mix of Poles, Hungarians, Italians and Spanish. There is also a successful merging of homeowners, private tenants and social housing.
Jane applauds the residents for their participation. “The positive aspect of this project was to see how people are willing to step forward and be counted in the community,” she said, adding the inter-relations among the residents and the general warmth of the area is noticeable in the photographs.
Jane Talbot studied photography under Joe Geoghegan and Terry Russell. Besides being a photographer, she works as a freelance stage manager with GYT, Town Hall Theatre Productions and Fibín Puppet Company. Not a stranger to community involvement, Jane is in charge of flowers and bush planting of in ‘the West”, the Small Crane and other spots.
The effectiveness of the exhibition is demonstrated by comments by residents on the canal side of Henry St., not officially in ‘the West’, wishing that they had been included.
It’s not every day that you can get everyone out on the street together. Another comment was that: “I knew all the dogs. Now I know the people.”
The First Green Mayor of Galway –a Friend of the Forum
By Sandra Bunting
A focus on green issues is to the forefront in Galway at the moment as the city experiences its first Green Party mayor. Since taking up the post in the summer, Niall O’Brolchain has been working non-stop on changes to make Galway more tolerant and peaceful, energy efficient with a better transportation system.
Galway has recently joined ‘Cities Against Racism’. Mayor O’Brolchain says Galway has taken a lead in this area and is working hard to prevent racism here of any kind. Not afraid of controversy, the Mayor launched the Gay Pride Festival at the end of August as he believes it is right to support minorities. However, he would not launch the Salthill Air Show earlier this year because of his stance against war planes. “It is the duty of the mayor to represent the citizens of the city. I believe that it is a majority view in the city. (not to support war planes).”
Energy Conservation is another issue the mayor feels strongly about, aiming for the city to be a symbol of fuel and energy efficiency. City Council vehicles are now running on 5 per cent bio-fuel and heating at city hall and street lighting are being looked at to see if they can be more energy efficient while at the same time more cost effective. With these measures in place, Galway will consider applying for the European Energy Awards.
O’Brolchain was well-prepared and had done a lot of ground work before becoming mayor. As head of the Green Party, he was elected city councillor in the last civic election and had served on the Galway City Community Forum and on the Galway Environmental Alliance.
As Mayor, besides representing the people of Galway, his other priorities are transport, roads and traffic. He has been in consultation with the city manager and there are announcements pending. Parks are another issue he feels needs attention. “They have not been properly developed,” he said. Litter is also a problem although he says it is improving. The Galway Market has a special place in his heart and he would like to see hours of trading expanded.
There are highlights of being mayor on the one hand and on the other, things that take getting used to. With his heavy schedule, it is difficult for his family and for work as all other duties have to be put aside. His first few months have been non-stop. He has been on the go all the time. However, he finds it very interesting. “It is an honour to represent the city,” he said.
One of his most enjoyable tasks as mayor is attending community events and meeting people who are doing voluntary or community work. “Going where people are not often recognised for the work they do is a real highlight.” Those people include carers for the handicapped, the homeless and others. He also enjoyed the Westside Youth Festival, commenting that he thought it was magnificent. The Arts Festival and Project 06 were also a high spot so far. Stating that he thought both festivals worked well together, he said he just loved things on the street and mentioned the art exhibit along the river as well as a number of other outdoor events.
Not a stranger to the Galway City Community Forum, Niall O’Brolchain was a member since its inception as representative of the Galway Environmental Alliance and therefore qualified to criticise the group. “The Forum hasn’t lived up to its potential,” he said. “It needs more focus and to take more practical initiatives.” The Mayor said plans are made in the forum but are not carried out. He suggested that one or two things should be concentrated on each year and that applying for and setting up a community radio station in the city would be a worthwhile project. Praising the Forum for its facilitating networking within the voluntary sector, he hinted that it should do more as a group, rather than the initiative taken by individuals.
The perception of the Green Party has changed in Galway. The new mayor says he has nothing against tree-huggers but that is not only what the party is about. “We’re going from strength to strength. Galway has the second biggest Green presence in the country. There is huge energy and more and more people getting involved.” O’Brolchain added that the party is about a sustainable living, lifestyle and economy with a clear and genuine agenda.
A focus on green issues is to the forefront in Galway at the moment as the city experiences its first Green Party mayor. Since taking up the post in the summer, Niall O’Brolchain has been working non-stop on changes to make Galway more tolerant and peaceful, energy efficient with a better transportation system.
Galway has recently joined ‘Cities Against Racism’. Mayor O’Brolchain says Galway has taken a lead in this area and is working hard to prevent racism here of any kind. Not afraid of controversy, the Mayor launched the Gay Pride Festival at the end of August as he believes it is right to support minorities. However, he would not launch the Salthill Air Show earlier this year because of his stance against war planes. “It is the duty of the mayor to represent the citizens of the city. I believe that it is a majority view in the city. (not to support war planes).”
Energy Conservation is another issue the mayor feels strongly about, aiming for the city to be a symbol of fuel and energy efficiency. City Council vehicles are now running on 5 per cent bio-fuel and heating at city hall and street lighting are being looked at to see if they can be more energy efficient while at the same time more cost effective. With these measures in place, Galway will consider applying for the European Energy Awards.
O’Brolchain was well-prepared and had done a lot of ground work before becoming mayor. As head of the Green Party, he was elected city councillor in the last civic election and had served on the Galway City Community Forum and on the Galway Environmental Alliance.
As Mayor, besides representing the people of Galway, his other priorities are transport, roads and traffic. He has been in consultation with the city manager and there are announcements pending. Parks are another issue he feels needs attention. “They have not been properly developed,” he said. Litter is also a problem although he says it is improving. The Galway Market has a special place in his heart and he would like to see hours of trading expanded.
There are highlights of being mayor on the one hand and on the other, things that take getting used to. With his heavy schedule, it is difficult for his family and for work as all other duties have to be put aside. His first few months have been non-stop. He has been on the go all the time. However, he finds it very interesting. “It is an honour to represent the city,” he said.
One of his most enjoyable tasks as mayor is attending community events and meeting people who are doing voluntary or community work. “Going where people are not often recognised for the work they do is a real highlight.” Those people include carers for the handicapped, the homeless and others. He also enjoyed the Westside Youth Festival, commenting that he thought it was magnificent. The Arts Festival and Project 06 were also a high spot so far. Stating that he thought both festivals worked well together, he said he just loved things on the street and mentioned the art exhibit along the river as well as a number of other outdoor events.
Not a stranger to the Galway City Community Forum, Niall O’Brolchain was a member since its inception as representative of the Galway Environmental Alliance and therefore qualified to criticise the group. “The Forum hasn’t lived up to its potential,” he said. “It needs more focus and to take more practical initiatives.” The Mayor said plans are made in the forum but are not carried out. He suggested that one or two things should be concentrated on each year and that applying for and setting up a community radio station in the city would be a worthwhile project. Praising the Forum for its facilitating networking within the voluntary sector, he hinted that it should do more as a group, rather than the initiative taken by individuals.
The perception of the Green Party has changed in Galway. The new mayor says he has nothing against tree-huggers but that is not only what the party is about. “We’re going from strength to strength. Galway has the second biggest Green presence in the country. There is huge energy and more and more people getting involved.” O’Brolchain added that the party is about a sustainable living, lifestyle and economy with a clear and genuine agenda.
Fitness Starts With Us
An interview with Galway’s New Sports Development Officer
By Sandra Bunting
Galway’s first sports development officer has settled into his new job after taking up the position in April. His arrival has been greatly applauded as for a long time local sports groups have been asking for someone to co-ordinate sporting groups and facilities and to encourage more physical activity in the city.
In the few months that Jason Craughwell has been in the job, he has accomplished a lot. Focusing in bringing attention to what we do have he said:
“Galway already has a lot of facilities. People just don’t know about them.”
Mr. Craughwell’s plan is two-fold:
• To support competitive and structured sport
• To focus on the fun aspect of sport, the pure enjoyment of it
Recognising that Galway is fortunate in having a lot of people putting time into structured clubs, he aims to develop the more informal side to physical activity. To this end he is hoping to encourage volunteers to set up other clubs for sports and physical fitness by training games leaders and coaches who can learn skills and bring them back to the community.
A lot can be done very simply. There are many open areas in estates.
“These are the places where kids can start getting physical activity through various games,” he said.
A website will soon provide information on what’s available in Galway in terms of clubs and other forms of physical activity. This will also include the arts as complementary to sports, especially areas such as modern dance which is active and physically demanding.
Already he has managed to secure €3000 worth of equipment through RAPID. This is divided into 5 kits or RAPS (recreation, activity and play bags) which contain footballs, basketballs, tennis equipment, hockey sticks, bean bags and soft balls to name a few. With one RAP in each of the 5 RAPID areas in the city, the idea is to make physical activity more fun and more inclusive. Any community group can sign it out. Therefore it is hoped that participation will increase. For example, there is the competitive rugby and the fun tag rugby, competitive soccer and ‘five aside’. In one the emphasis is on winning; on the other, winning is important but the social and entertainment aspects also highly considered.
Galway will soon have a government-funded sports partnership. At the moment there are 16 in the country and it is hoped to have one in every county and major city by the year 2008. Initially it will exist for three years at which time it will be reviewed.
In the meantime, besides providing support to members of the community interested in training, a series of workshops with all sports groups were held in November to set out objectives of the future sports partnership over the next two to three years. We are awaiting the results of a sports and recreation needs analysis
Jason Craughwell is not a stranger to what this city needs in terms of encouragement for sport and physical activity. A native of Athlone, he has worked in Galway in the fitness industry and had family connections to the city centre. With a degree in Health, Fitness, Leisure and Physical Education at the IT, Tralee, he has 8-10 level one coaching qualifications allowing him to coach a broad spectrum of sports. He was involved in athletics and gymnastics and played rugby and a little soccer.
With the help of the community and the encouragement and support of our new Sports Development Officer, Galway is hopefully on the way to being fitter and with a more positive attitude towards sport and physical activity.
-ends-
By Sandra Bunting
Galway’s first sports development officer has settled into his new job after taking up the position in April. His arrival has been greatly applauded as for a long time local sports groups have been asking for someone to co-ordinate sporting groups and facilities and to encourage more physical activity in the city.
In the few months that Jason Craughwell has been in the job, he has accomplished a lot. Focusing in bringing attention to what we do have he said:
“Galway already has a lot of facilities. People just don’t know about them.”
Mr. Craughwell’s plan is two-fold:
• To support competitive and structured sport
• To focus on the fun aspect of sport, the pure enjoyment of it
Recognising that Galway is fortunate in having a lot of people putting time into structured clubs, he aims to develop the more informal side to physical activity. To this end he is hoping to encourage volunteers to set up other clubs for sports and physical fitness by training games leaders and coaches who can learn skills and bring them back to the community.
A lot can be done very simply. There are many open areas in estates.
“These are the places where kids can start getting physical activity through various games,” he said.
A website will soon provide information on what’s available in Galway in terms of clubs and other forms of physical activity. This will also include the arts as complementary to sports, especially areas such as modern dance which is active and physically demanding.
Already he has managed to secure €3000 worth of equipment through RAPID. This is divided into 5 kits or RAPS (recreation, activity and play bags) which contain footballs, basketballs, tennis equipment, hockey sticks, bean bags and soft balls to name a few. With one RAP in each of the 5 RAPID areas in the city, the idea is to make physical activity more fun and more inclusive. Any community group can sign it out. Therefore it is hoped that participation will increase. For example, there is the competitive rugby and the fun tag rugby, competitive soccer and ‘five aside’. In one the emphasis is on winning; on the other, winning is important but the social and entertainment aspects also highly considered.
Galway will soon have a government-funded sports partnership. At the moment there are 16 in the country and it is hoped to have one in every county and major city by the year 2008. Initially it will exist for three years at which time it will be reviewed.
In the meantime, besides providing support to members of the community interested in training, a series of workshops with all sports groups were held in November to set out objectives of the future sports partnership over the next two to three years. We are awaiting the results of a sports and recreation needs analysis
Jason Craughwell is not a stranger to what this city needs in terms of encouragement for sport and physical activity. A native of Athlone, he has worked in Galway in the fitness industry and had family connections to the city centre. With a degree in Health, Fitness, Leisure and Physical Education at the IT, Tralee, he has 8-10 level one coaching qualifications allowing him to coach a broad spectrum of sports. He was involved in athletics and gymnastics and played rugby and a little soccer.
With the help of the community and the encouragement and support of our new Sports Development Officer, Galway is hopefully on the way to being fitter and with a more positive attitude towards sport and physical activity.
-ends-
Cricket- Galway Style By Sandra Bunting
“More people should play cricket. They should give it a chance before they complain about it being boring.” Seventeen-year-old Lakshika Randesh Serasinhe was instrumental in establishing the game of cricket in “the Bish” Secondary School.
Before moving to Ireland when he was ten, Lakshika had played cricket in his community near Colombo. Cricket is the number one sport played in Sri Lanka. Like football here, he and his friends would go out with balls and a bat, experimenting on their own until they reached eight or nine. Then they would get rudimentary instructions such as how to hold a bat. After ten years old, students participate in school matches. As teenagers, teams from different schools play each other.
Lakshika differentiates between playing and watching cricket. Although enthusiastic about playing he has lost interest for matches on television for the moment. He used to follow the major matches which last one day. Test matches, in which players wear white, go on for five days. “On TV it can be boring,” Lakshika said. “Playing it offers a completely different point of view.”
Cricket was sponsored by the “Bish” a few years ago after a group students, familiar with the game, approached the school with the idea. However, with the Irish weather, playing outdoors was impossible except for sometimes during the summer. “The Bish” gym was also ruled out because no guarantee could be given that windows wouldn’t be broken due to the force of balls. The school ended up renting space in another gym and the hard “leather” ball had to be substituted for tennis balls. Some students from St. Mary’s joined in. Leaving Cert and past “Bish” students helped. For those who say that cricket is too English, Lakshika responds: “It’s only a game. It doesn’t matter if it’s English.”
Not all who tried it were enthusiastic but Lakshika says there were at least three Irish-born students who took to it strongly. It can be informal. Normally 11 members on a team, they would take the number of people that showed up and divided it in half. Latshika enjoys batting among the other positions of fielding, wicket and bowler, both spinner and fast.
What makes cricket interesting? Lakshika says it’s the skill and the sense of danger. A proper cricket ball is like a rock and when it comes at your face at 60 mph, it can be unnerving and do serious damage such as breaking bones. In practise with tennis balls, normal clothes are worn but in competition when the hard ball is used, leg pads (that make it difficult to run) helmets and metal face masks are required.
Cricket here at secondary school level is temporarily suspended while funding is being sought and some of the students study for the Leaving.
*****
Lakshika may very well go on to a College team at either GMIT (team founded two years ago) or NUI, Galway. The NUI, Galway team was re-established in 2002 by Waquar Aziz and Shazad Javid. There had been a cricket club there since the 18th century when the college went under the name of Queens but it had been defunct for a long time.
The present club incorporates many nationalities: South East Asians, Asians, Australians, New Zealanders, South Africans and English. President Nintan Bindal from Goa, India, says it is the college club with the most diverse membership. Irish natives are not left out. Out of six new members, two are usually Irish. Up to 20% of the membership is Irish, mostly originating from the east coast. Women can play if good enough and are welcome in the club.
Training consists of a three-hour a week commitment during term and a large amount of time is dedicated to beginners. Because of the weather, there are indoor leagues in winter and spring with matches against teams from Athlone IT, Shannon Business School and others. NUI, G hosted an 8-team indoor varsity the end of January. Outdoor summer varsity matches are organised in June among 4-5 colleges. There is also the Dick O’Neill Cup for the west and south of the country and the Connaught League.
Mr. Bindal says cricket is interesting if you understand it and keep up with it. “It is not really a slow game. It’s just spread out over a longer period of time. It tends to keep you more alert.” Played mainly at weekends, there is a friendly atmosphere as it is a low contact sport with a low incidence of fighting. “It’s like a social gathering,” says Mr.Bindal.
Watch out for the inter-college league (March-April) and the outdoor varsity in June. Cricket is also flourishing in the country under Dr. Steven Ellis of NUI, Galway. The pitch is located at Lydican, past the airport. Spectators are welcome.
Before moving to Ireland when he was ten, Lakshika had played cricket in his community near Colombo. Cricket is the number one sport played in Sri Lanka. Like football here, he and his friends would go out with balls and a bat, experimenting on their own until they reached eight or nine. Then they would get rudimentary instructions such as how to hold a bat. After ten years old, students participate in school matches. As teenagers, teams from different schools play each other.
Lakshika differentiates between playing and watching cricket. Although enthusiastic about playing he has lost interest for matches on television for the moment. He used to follow the major matches which last one day. Test matches, in which players wear white, go on for five days. “On TV it can be boring,” Lakshika said. “Playing it offers a completely different point of view.”
Cricket was sponsored by the “Bish” a few years ago after a group students, familiar with the game, approached the school with the idea. However, with the Irish weather, playing outdoors was impossible except for sometimes during the summer. “The Bish” gym was also ruled out because no guarantee could be given that windows wouldn’t be broken due to the force of balls. The school ended up renting space in another gym and the hard “leather” ball had to be substituted for tennis balls. Some students from St. Mary’s joined in. Leaving Cert and past “Bish” students helped. For those who say that cricket is too English, Lakshika responds: “It’s only a game. It doesn’t matter if it’s English.”
Not all who tried it were enthusiastic but Lakshika says there were at least three Irish-born students who took to it strongly. It can be informal. Normally 11 members on a team, they would take the number of people that showed up and divided it in half. Latshika enjoys batting among the other positions of fielding, wicket and bowler, both spinner and fast.
What makes cricket interesting? Lakshika says it’s the skill and the sense of danger. A proper cricket ball is like a rock and when it comes at your face at 60 mph, it can be unnerving and do serious damage such as breaking bones. In practise with tennis balls, normal clothes are worn but in competition when the hard ball is used, leg pads (that make it difficult to run) helmets and metal face masks are required.
Cricket here at secondary school level is temporarily suspended while funding is being sought and some of the students study for the Leaving.
*****
Lakshika may very well go on to a College team at either GMIT (team founded two years ago) or NUI, Galway. The NUI, Galway team was re-established in 2002 by Waquar Aziz and Shazad Javid. There had been a cricket club there since the 18th century when the college went under the name of Queens but it had been defunct for a long time.
The present club incorporates many nationalities: South East Asians, Asians, Australians, New Zealanders, South Africans and English. President Nintan Bindal from Goa, India, says it is the college club with the most diverse membership. Irish natives are not left out. Out of six new members, two are usually Irish. Up to 20% of the membership is Irish, mostly originating from the east coast. Women can play if good enough and are welcome in the club.
Training consists of a three-hour a week commitment during term and a large amount of time is dedicated to beginners. Because of the weather, there are indoor leagues in winter and spring with matches against teams from Athlone IT, Shannon Business School and others. NUI, G hosted an 8-team indoor varsity the end of January. Outdoor summer varsity matches are organised in June among 4-5 colleges. There is also the Dick O’Neill Cup for the west and south of the country and the Connaught League.
Mr. Bindal says cricket is interesting if you understand it and keep up with it. “It is not really a slow game. It’s just spread out over a longer period of time. It tends to keep you more alert.” Played mainly at weekends, there is a friendly atmosphere as it is a low contact sport with a low incidence of fighting. “It’s like a social gathering,” says Mr.Bindal.
Watch out for the inter-college league (March-April) and the outdoor varsity in June. Cricket is also flourishing in the country under Dr. Steven Ellis of NUI, Galway. The pitch is located at Lydican, past the airport. Spectators are welcome.
Foul Play on the Canals and Rivers of Galway By Sandra Bunting
Spring should be a pleasant time along the canals and rivers of Galway. Though still wet and windy, there is a hint of mildness in the air. Greenery is making its appearance out of cracks in walls or underfoot and the effervescence of bird song can not be contained. Everywhere new life is making an appearance. There is a nasty side, however.
On a walk along the river the dog digs into the bank, finds a cluster of baby blue and turquoise eggs and proceeds to gulp them down. The following weeks see the birth of baby ducks, those adorable little balls of yellow and black fluff. For daily walkers to the canal their arrival is a source of great excitement as the proud mother guides her dozen or so offspring up and down the canal.
However, as the days progress a sense of horror sets in as one by one the ducklings disappear. Danger looms on all sides. One little duckling is caught in a whirlpool that is headed for the lock. We watch horrified, unable to do anything, as it is swept through a tiny hole, plunged to a horrible death in the water far below, then flushed out to sea. Many different animals seem to regard the babies as a treat. Cats and mink wait on the banks and strike when one strays too close. Underwater is not even safe as even fish are known to have swallowed an unsuspecting bird.
The worst I have seen are seagulls. They swoop down and then fly up again with two little webbed feet sticking out of their mouths. Even with their beaks full, they manage to boast to their friends about their catch. My children brought home a little duck which we believe was in that same predicament. The little duckling was found lying on its back on a playground near the canal, obviously dropped by a seagull. We nursed it back to health and it paddled around our bathtub. The dog and the cat were going wild but we managed to keep them at bay. Its name was Big Belly Buddha because his stomach was prominent when it was found lying there on its back.
On advice from the local ISPCA, we took it back to the canal, tried to find its mother and lowered it into the water. Its peeping (it wasn’t able to quack yet) attracted an adult female duck which it began to follow. The children and I were so touched that it was well and reunited with its mother. Our smiles soon disappeared. The adult duck opened her beak wide and repeatedly closed it on the neck of the baby. Our dog barked hysterically and finally the larger duck swam away.
And there was Big Belly Buddha, hurt but ok, going around and around in the water, wide-eyed, innocent and completely alone..I couldn’t look as it headed for the tiny whirlpool. I heard a last peep before it fell over the edge.
Yet many do survive. Once past the critical stage, they grow amazingly fast. Their birth and growth is a delight, one of the many joys of spring. But for me, I stay away from the drama on the canal, content to live under an illusion., a selective gentler season.
On a walk along the river the dog digs into the bank, finds a cluster of baby blue and turquoise eggs and proceeds to gulp them down. The following weeks see the birth of baby ducks, those adorable little balls of yellow and black fluff. For daily walkers to the canal their arrival is a source of great excitement as the proud mother guides her dozen or so offspring up and down the canal.
However, as the days progress a sense of horror sets in as one by one the ducklings disappear. Danger looms on all sides. One little duckling is caught in a whirlpool that is headed for the lock. We watch horrified, unable to do anything, as it is swept through a tiny hole, plunged to a horrible death in the water far below, then flushed out to sea. Many different animals seem to regard the babies as a treat. Cats and mink wait on the banks and strike when one strays too close. Underwater is not even safe as even fish are known to have swallowed an unsuspecting bird.
The worst I have seen are seagulls. They swoop down and then fly up again with two little webbed feet sticking out of their mouths. Even with their beaks full, they manage to boast to their friends about their catch. My children brought home a little duck which we believe was in that same predicament. The little duckling was found lying on its back on a playground near the canal, obviously dropped by a seagull. We nursed it back to health and it paddled around our bathtub. The dog and the cat were going wild but we managed to keep them at bay. Its name was Big Belly Buddha because his stomach was prominent when it was found lying there on its back.
On advice from the local ISPCA, we took it back to the canal, tried to find its mother and lowered it into the water. Its peeping (it wasn’t able to quack yet) attracted an adult female duck which it began to follow. The children and I were so touched that it was well and reunited with its mother. Our smiles soon disappeared. The adult duck opened her beak wide and repeatedly closed it on the neck of the baby. Our dog barked hysterically and finally the larger duck swam away.
And there was Big Belly Buddha, hurt but ok, going around and around in the water, wide-eyed, innocent and completely alone..I couldn’t look as it headed for the tiny whirlpool. I heard a last peep before it fell over the edge.
Yet many do survive. Once past the critical stage, they grow amazingly fast. Their birth and growth is a delight, one of the many joys of spring. But for me, I stay away from the drama on the canal, content to live under an illusion., a selective gentler season.
Small Publishers: Why ever do they do it? By Sandra Bunting
In December, I was dismayed to hear that Mercutio Press of Montreal, which published some poems of mine in the past, was going to shut down due to lack of funding. It had been up and running since 2003 and had published many fine books. Fortunately a few private donors came through for the press at the last moment and Mercutio will go on. However, the incident caused me think about small presses in general. Through my own position on the editorial board of Galway’s Crannóg Literary magazine, I know the number of hours put into such an endeavour. I often question whether it is commitment or madness.
So, why do people give up their time and risk financial insecurity to add to the seemingly over-supply of books in print? For Ben Kalman of Mercutio Press, a love of literature led him to start publishing. He wanted to provide a platform for writers and has gone on to publish Canadian Governor-General Award winners alongside people who have never published a single poem or story before. However, his press receives no outside funding. As Mercutio specialises in chapbooks, and his books have no spine, he is not recognised as a publisher and therefore is not eligible for grants or funding from sponsors or government agencies in Canada. A labour of love can lead to moments of doubt or burn-out.
I contacted an Irish publisher who appears to have the same commitment. Dennis Greig of Lapwing Press in Belfast says ‘love is always draining’. However, if one can manage one’s time well and tries to hold a balance financially, it is worthwhile. “Poetry,” he says, “is and always will be a cultural imperative related to the deepest (sometimes shallowest) human concerns.”
Dennis Greig and his wife, Rene, organised and participated in many literary events before Lapwing was set up, taking a cue from T.S Eliot’s observation that “the small press was an indication of the literary health of a nation”. Concerning funding, Greig gets none and wants none.
Both Mercutio and Lapwing publish chapbooks, although Lapwing also publishes books with a spine. What exactly are chapbooks? According to Ben Kalman they are booklets of literature, essentially an 18th century innovation to get books out to the literate poor (chap/cheap). For more on the history, consult: www.willbradley.com/words.18th_centurychapbooks.htm. Chapbooks are just as important nowadays, according to Kalman. “They provide an outlet for grassroots and unpublished writers…..a chapbook publisher will often take a risk because they have little to lose.” This refers to the tendency to keep costs down and to opt for a low print run.
Mercutio considers its books on the high end of the chapbook scale. Ben Kalman says he wants people to be impressed with the look, feel and design of his chapbook in addition to the writing inside. His laser colour covers are of high-quality glossy card, the contents typeset by him and then formatted, folded and staple-bound at the printers. Lapwing also has a house style and, like Mercutio, spends a lot of time on editorial detail. “The only unique thing about any poetry publication is the poem or poems,” says Greig. Lapwing publications could be a simple saddle-stitched pamphlet up to 28 pages, a saddle-stitched chapbook up to 44 pages or a spined paperback of 48 pages or more.
Distribution for small presses is a nightmare, especially for poetry. “There is simply not enough interest in poetry,” says Greig. “Poetry is a non-commercial ‘thing’ so why stock something which may take up space for ever and a day?” He goes on to say that book shops often make poetry publishers pay for the privilege of stocking their books, often demanding large discounts or percentages of the cover price. Ben at Mercutio says as he prints in limited numbers, he has no way of tapping into the major book chains. “Even if I could,” he says, “I’m not sure I would sell much through them. Chapbooks are very much a niche item.” Rather than a mass market, there are those who like them. He himself has a collection of several hundred different ones.
So what can be done to support small presses? “We could perhaps look into lobbying government agencies that give out grants like the Canada Council of the Arts, The Arts Council of Ireland or the Arts Council of Northern Ireland,” suggests Ben Kalman. Dennis Greig, however, has found that bureaucracy takes up too much time. The days of patronage long gone, perhaps universities, news media companies or bookshops could be called on for sponsorship. Whatever suggestions there are to keep them afloat, small publishers seem to possess a determination against all the odds. “Get on with it,” advises Greig. “If you are going to publish, publish and be damned.” For him the most important thing is to make the work available- writers are more important than policy. On average Lapwing publishes30 to 40 new titles a year with no government funding and has built up an international reputation beyond England and Ireland. “Being independent,” explains Greig, “means we are not tied to government policies, arts council strategies, committees or other cultural constipating factors.” Ben at Mercutio agrees. “This kind of platform for writers allows people a valid shot at publishing in a literary world filled with snobbery and a buddy system. The publishing world is too often ‘who you know and where you were published?’”
As pundits are pondering the future of publishing in general, what is the future of small presses? Some evolve like Peppercanister, Gallery, Daedalus and even Bloodaxe (which started out as a pamphlet/chapbook publisher. Others close. Because small presses are normally run by one or two people responsible for everything, it can be a lonely job with an enormous workload that is hard to sustain. It is not an easy venture but one made worthwhile because they perceive it to be an important cultural contribution.
I would just like to say hats off to all small publishers whether their books have a spine or not, to Lapwing and Mercutio Press and especially to the ones in Galway because I have seen their dedication to the craft firsthand: to Ciarán Parkes of Marram Press, who published my collection in Ireland, Identified in Trees, to Ger Burke and Tony O’Dwyer of Words on the Street who have published a play and an anthology and have poetry coming out soon, and to Alan Hayes at Arlen house who has published everything from academic publications to west of Ireland women writers to coffee table art books.
As I don’t know myself why I enjoy being so involved in my work with Crannóg, I can not hope to understand all the reasons for small publishers to face such demands on their time and the strain on their own money. I only hope that they continue to introduce us to new voices and that may they flourish.
Contacts:
Ben Kalman www.mercutiopress.com
Dennis Greig Lapwing Publications, 1 Ballysillan Drive, Belfast BT148HQ
Alan Hayes arlenhouse@ireland.com
Tony O’Dwyer www.wordsonthestreet.com
Ger Burke www.wordsontheweb.net
Ciarán Parkes, Marran Press Marrampress@gmail.com
www.bookparkes.com
www.crannogmagazine.com
Next submission deadline March 1, 2007
So, why do people give up their time and risk financial insecurity to add to the seemingly over-supply of books in print? For Ben Kalman of Mercutio Press, a love of literature led him to start publishing. He wanted to provide a platform for writers and has gone on to publish Canadian Governor-General Award winners alongside people who have never published a single poem or story before. However, his press receives no outside funding. As Mercutio specialises in chapbooks, and his books have no spine, he is not recognised as a publisher and therefore is not eligible for grants or funding from sponsors or government agencies in Canada. A labour of love can lead to moments of doubt or burn-out.
I contacted an Irish publisher who appears to have the same commitment. Dennis Greig of Lapwing Press in Belfast says ‘love is always draining’. However, if one can manage one’s time well and tries to hold a balance financially, it is worthwhile. “Poetry,” he says, “is and always will be a cultural imperative related to the deepest (sometimes shallowest) human concerns.”
Dennis Greig and his wife, Rene, organised and participated in many literary events before Lapwing was set up, taking a cue from T.S Eliot’s observation that “the small press was an indication of the literary health of a nation”. Concerning funding, Greig gets none and wants none.
Both Mercutio and Lapwing publish chapbooks, although Lapwing also publishes books with a spine. What exactly are chapbooks? According to Ben Kalman they are booklets of literature, essentially an 18th century innovation to get books out to the literate poor (chap/cheap). For more on the history, consult: www.willbradley.com/words.18th_centurychapbooks.htm. Chapbooks are just as important nowadays, according to Kalman. “They provide an outlet for grassroots and unpublished writers…..a chapbook publisher will often take a risk because they have little to lose.” This refers to the tendency to keep costs down and to opt for a low print run.
Mercutio considers its books on the high end of the chapbook scale. Ben Kalman says he wants people to be impressed with the look, feel and design of his chapbook in addition to the writing inside. His laser colour covers are of high-quality glossy card, the contents typeset by him and then formatted, folded and staple-bound at the printers. Lapwing also has a house style and, like Mercutio, spends a lot of time on editorial detail. “The only unique thing about any poetry publication is the poem or poems,” says Greig. Lapwing publications could be a simple saddle-stitched pamphlet up to 28 pages, a saddle-stitched chapbook up to 44 pages or a spined paperback of 48 pages or more.
Distribution for small presses is a nightmare, especially for poetry. “There is simply not enough interest in poetry,” says Greig. “Poetry is a non-commercial ‘thing’ so why stock something which may take up space for ever and a day?” He goes on to say that book shops often make poetry publishers pay for the privilege of stocking their books, often demanding large discounts or percentages of the cover price. Ben at Mercutio says as he prints in limited numbers, he has no way of tapping into the major book chains. “Even if I could,” he says, “I’m not sure I would sell much through them. Chapbooks are very much a niche item.” Rather than a mass market, there are those who like them. He himself has a collection of several hundred different ones.
So what can be done to support small presses? “We could perhaps look into lobbying government agencies that give out grants like the Canada Council of the Arts, The Arts Council of Ireland or the Arts Council of Northern Ireland,” suggests Ben Kalman. Dennis Greig, however, has found that bureaucracy takes up too much time. The days of patronage long gone, perhaps universities, news media companies or bookshops could be called on for sponsorship. Whatever suggestions there are to keep them afloat, small publishers seem to possess a determination against all the odds. “Get on with it,” advises Greig. “If you are going to publish, publish and be damned.” For him the most important thing is to make the work available- writers are more important than policy. On average Lapwing publishes30 to 40 new titles a year with no government funding and has built up an international reputation beyond England and Ireland. “Being independent,” explains Greig, “means we are not tied to government policies, arts council strategies, committees or other cultural constipating factors.” Ben at Mercutio agrees. “This kind of platform for writers allows people a valid shot at publishing in a literary world filled with snobbery and a buddy system. The publishing world is too often ‘who you know and where you were published?’”
As pundits are pondering the future of publishing in general, what is the future of small presses? Some evolve like Peppercanister, Gallery, Daedalus and even Bloodaxe (which started out as a pamphlet/chapbook publisher. Others close. Because small presses are normally run by one or two people responsible for everything, it can be a lonely job with an enormous workload that is hard to sustain. It is not an easy venture but one made worthwhile because they perceive it to be an important cultural contribution.
I would just like to say hats off to all small publishers whether their books have a spine or not, to Lapwing and Mercutio Press and especially to the ones in Galway because I have seen their dedication to the craft firsthand: to Ciarán Parkes of Marram Press, who published my collection in Ireland, Identified in Trees, to Ger Burke and Tony O’Dwyer of Words on the Street who have published a play and an anthology and have poetry coming out soon, and to Alan Hayes at Arlen house who has published everything from academic publications to west of Ireland women writers to coffee table art books.
As I don’t know myself why I enjoy being so involved in my work with Crannóg, I can not hope to understand all the reasons for small publishers to face such demands on their time and the strain on their own money. I only hope that they continue to introduce us to new voices and that may they flourish.
Contacts:
Ben Kalman www.mercutiopress.com
Dennis Greig Lapwing Publications, 1 Ballysillan Drive, Belfast BT148HQ
Alan Hayes arlenhouse@ireland.com
Tony O’Dwyer www.wordsonthestreet.com
Ger Burke www.wordsontheweb.net
Ciarán Parkes, Marran Press Marrampress@gmail.com
www.bookparkes.com
www.crannogmagazine.com
Next submission deadline March 1, 2007
New Life for the Red Squirrel: WikiIreland by Sandra Bunting
The internet has given people new ways to be creative and to add their contribution to an already enormous body of information. Through blogs, people can keep a diary, give their opinion or supply information on a regular basis. Photo-sharing sites make family or holiday snaps instantly accessible around the world. Sites like Orkut, a community social network, make it possible to meet people around the world with similar interests.
Another community site going from strength to strength is Wikipedia which is basically an encyclopaedia in which topics can be written about, commented on or edited. Calling for a factual and neutral point of view, there is bureaucratic control to maintain a certain standard. The Hawaiian term wiki means fast or fast runner. There are now wikitionaries, wiki-quotes, wikibook service (to facilitate the writing of collaborative books) wikinews, wikispecies (animals) and wikimedia.
WikiIreland
Now a wiki has been set up specifically to deal with Ireland. Its creator, John Breslin of the National University of Ireland, Galway, said the main idea was to have a place to store anything about Ireland whether it is culture, history, genealogy or story-telling. There was a need for this. “It is difficult to put in something local in Wikipedia because it may not be appropriate, its importance may not be recognised and it may not last long,” said Mr. Breslin.
Mr. Breslin, who developed the idea for the Digital Enterprise Research Institute, has no background in culture or history but likes organising, collecting and storing. His own personal project under the wiki banner was to enter the vast store of songs and long poems held by his grandfather Jack Casey from County Clare. Now in his 94th year, Mr. Casey has a talent for recitations and has filled three ledgers with things that he liked. As some of these were learned orally, it may be the only written record existing.
Once it is up and running, a wiki becomes a community effort. People add and update it. The same is true for WikiIreland. A wiki is not hard to set up, according the Mr. Breslin. There are several ways. Through wikispaces you can download software on to your own website or you can sign up your own free wiki through wikia (wikicities).
The red squirrel was chosen as a logo for WikiIreland representing Irish culture and history. The red squirrel is something indigenous to Ireland that is under threat from the grey squirrel which was introduced here recently from North America. A couple of hundred items from Wikapedia were used to start off the wiki. Since Wikapedia encourages free documentation license, you can use anything you find there. Then people were encouraged to start their own articles within the Irish one. A community site needs a driving source to get it going. It grows by word of mouth and through Google. Although the main drive at the moment is Galway-based, more and more people are adding to and creating articles.
I have registered as the West Residents’ Association, hoping to sometime create an article about this unique area of Galway. I have connections in Canada who have expressed interest in the category ‘the Irish in Canada’. There are sub-categories of ‘the Irish in Quebec’, the Irish in Newfoundland’ and so on but there is no listing for ‘the Irish in New Brunswick’. I will encourage my friends to start one. Have you a story, a bit of information, an interesting titbit that relates to Ireland? Write, add to or edit an article at http://www.wiki.ie/.
And what is the future of WikiIreland. Apart from it growing and gaining a life of its own, John Breslin says he envisages the addition of more multimedia elements such as audio and visual content. It is mostly text-based at the moment but more images and sound will play a part in the near future, especially to record such things as folklore and stories from family members. We are writing our own history!
One of My Favourite Paintings Salvador Dali's Santiago El Grande By Sandra Bunting
One of My Favourite Paintings Santiago El Grande by Salvador Dali
We have all wanted to soar high up into the clouds like a bird, a dragon or an airplane, or at least be a passenger, to feel the sense of freedom and closeness to the divine. The Spanish painter, Salvador Dali, takes it a step further and places a fortunate figure on a white horse rearing up above the clouds. Looking at the painting, Santiago El Grande, we are left on the ground, small and humble. The sheer size of the painting, 407.67 centimetres high, ensures that we are always looking up at it as if up to heaven itself.
It could be considered more a spiritual painting than a religious one although there are conventional Catholic images. There is a Christ like figure ascending into what we assume is heaven. The figure on the horse is either trying to catch hold of him or is pointing to him. In a bottom corner a Madonna figure looks us straight in the face.
The use of colour adds to the sense of sacredness. The horse dominates the middle of the painting and like a chameleon; his lower body is white to blend in with the clouds and then turns the celestial blue of a heavenly sky. The sky is bound by what seems to be a golden frame forming a globe through which only the Christ figure appears to be able to enter. It is that predominant blue that attracts draws us in and lifts us into another sphere.
At the bottom, what might represent the ordinary human plane; everything is flat, small and inconsequential. The Madonna is draped in earth tones and looks out with a blank expression compared to what we can imagine is the rapt expression of Santiago (St. James). He is the saint whose bones lie in the Galician pilgrimage cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Spain.
Dali was not without his idiosyncrasies even in this painting. The Madonna bears the face of Gala, his Russian-born lover and later wife. There are many Dali paintings that intrigue or tease. His earlier work is touching, the melting clocks challenging and his sculptures, for my taste, kitsch. He could be a bit of a chancer and exhibitionist at times.
This is the painting I always go back to. Perhaps it has been embedded in my mind since childhood. The painting Santiago El Grande has a strange home in a small provincial art gallery on the east coast of Canada, in Fredericton, New Brunwsick. Its size is exaggerated in the small room, its value often overlooked by local patrons. However, somehow the blues and whites match perfectly outside with the snow and the crisp blue of a Canadian winter.
A sister painting of around the same size is in a gallery in Glasgow. It is more down to earth with its dark somber tones. I’d rather be up there in the skies.
Galway’s Writer in Residence, Michael O’Loughlin,
You are writer in residence for the year. How do you hope the post will contribute to your writing and to you personally?
Being writer in residence for me has a number of positive aspects. It gives me time to concentrate on my own work, rather than spending time teaching or translating for example. From the writer’s point of view that’s the main thing. But being in Galway has already started to have effects I didn’t expect. Although I have lived in a lot of places I never lived outside Dublin in Ireland. That has definitely changed my perspective. I’m beginning to understand, for example, the hostility people outside Dublin often feel for the Dublin-based media. I’m based in the Ballybane resource centre, and now when I hear the DART accent on the radio I realise how bizarre and distant Dublin can seem. The fact is, people in Dublin don’t care about the issues in places like Galway. They tend to assume that everywhere is like Dublin. On the other hand, there often seems to be an umbilical connection between D4 and parts of Galway!
You have lived abroad. Do you think it helps you develop a new perspective on being Irish and on life in general?
I suppose I’ve lived most of my adult life abroad, mainly in Amsterdam. It certainly gives you a different perspective on being Irish. At a certain stage you realise that you have stopped being Irish and become something else, so when you go back to Ireland will always be the ‘returned yank’, at a slight angle to the rest of society, because you have developed too much perspective. You become too objective. It can be both a good and bad thing.
What do you hope to accomplish as writer in residence in Galway?
Well, in a sense the writer in residence’s job is simply to be here! There are plenty of writers resident in Galway already, so I would hope that the writer in residence contributes something that is different. In my own case, I think my background abroad has made me acutely aware of other literatures and cultures, and sensitive to the experience of being an outsider in society. I hope that gives me a different perspective. I see myself as a resource for people to exploit: so exploit me! Related to this is the special programme I have developed with James Harrold, the City Arts Officer. I am very interested in immigration and emigration and cultural clashes. I want to gather the stories from the immigrant community and explore their experience. We see these people in our midst, we work with them, live with them, yet have very little idea of how they see us, and how they experience emigration. It’s a complex project, but we’re working hard on it and hope to publish all these stories somewhere down the line. In addition I’m doing thing like giving talks in the libraries on European writers, and I have been giving classes to aspiring writers. I’m available 24/7!
What do you think of the writing scene in Galway? Are there too many poets here?
The writing scene in Galway is incredibly vibrant and diverse. I think there are more poetry readings here than in Dublin. People like Kevin Higgins, Fred Johnson and John Walsh are all doing great work in organizing poetry events, and there’s the publishing scene, including Crannog! I’ve just had a great time in Curt, which is easily the best literary festival in Ireland.
Besides poetry, you have written short stories, criticism and done translations. Is it important to be diverse?
I have written in a lot of different media, screenplays, poetry, criticism, and translation. Each has its own particular discipline obviously, but I tend deep down to regard it all as aspects of one particular personal quest.
And the future? What are you working on? Do you plan to stay in Ireland?
At the moment I’m concentrating on finishing a poetry collection, which is just about done. In addition I have completed a new screenplay, my first to be set in Ireland, and am now about to start trying to get it made. So that’s the next 5 years accounted for!
Being writer in residence for me has a number of positive aspects. It gives me time to concentrate on my own work, rather than spending time teaching or translating for example. From the writer’s point of view that’s the main thing. But being in Galway has already started to have effects I didn’t expect. Although I have lived in a lot of places I never lived outside Dublin in Ireland. That has definitely changed my perspective. I’m beginning to understand, for example, the hostility people outside Dublin often feel for the Dublin-based media. I’m based in the Ballybane resource centre, and now when I hear the DART accent on the radio I realise how bizarre and distant Dublin can seem. The fact is, people in Dublin don’t care about the issues in places like Galway. They tend to assume that everywhere is like Dublin. On the other hand, there often seems to be an umbilical connection between D4 and parts of Galway!
You have lived abroad. Do you think it helps you develop a new perspective on being Irish and on life in general?
I suppose I’ve lived most of my adult life abroad, mainly in Amsterdam. It certainly gives you a different perspective on being Irish. At a certain stage you realise that you have stopped being Irish and become something else, so when you go back to Ireland will always be the ‘returned yank’, at a slight angle to the rest of society, because you have developed too much perspective. You become too objective. It can be both a good and bad thing.
What do you hope to accomplish as writer in residence in Galway?
Well, in a sense the writer in residence’s job is simply to be here! There are plenty of writers resident in Galway already, so I would hope that the writer in residence contributes something that is different. In my own case, I think my background abroad has made me acutely aware of other literatures and cultures, and sensitive to the experience of being an outsider in society. I hope that gives me a different perspective. I see myself as a resource for people to exploit: so exploit me! Related to this is the special programme I have developed with James Harrold, the City Arts Officer. I am very interested in immigration and emigration and cultural clashes. I want to gather the stories from the immigrant community and explore their experience. We see these people in our midst, we work with them, live with them, yet have very little idea of how they see us, and how they experience emigration. It’s a complex project, but we’re working hard on it and hope to publish all these stories somewhere down the line. In addition I’m doing thing like giving talks in the libraries on European writers, and I have been giving classes to aspiring writers. I’m available 24/7!
What do you think of the writing scene in Galway? Are there too many poets here?
The writing scene in Galway is incredibly vibrant and diverse. I think there are more poetry readings here than in Dublin. People like Kevin Higgins, Fred Johnson and John Walsh are all doing great work in organizing poetry events, and there’s the publishing scene, including Crannog! I’ve just had a great time in Curt, which is easily the best literary festival in Ireland.
Besides poetry, you have written short stories, criticism and done translations. Is it important to be diverse?
I have written in a lot of different media, screenplays, poetry, criticism, and translation. Each has its own particular discipline obviously, but I tend deep down to regard it all as aspects of one particular personal quest.
And the future? What are you working on? Do you plan to stay in Ireland?
At the moment I’m concentrating on finishing a poetry collection, which is just about done. In addition I have completed a new screenplay, my first to be set in Ireland, and am now about to start trying to get it made. So that’s the next 5 years accounted for!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)