Lifestyle – Judy Murphy meets artist Derrick Hawker for whom Connemara is his blank canvas
When English-born artist Derrick Hawker was summoned to a meeting in the local pub by a group of friends from the Connemara island of Gorumna back in 1970, he was a bit apprehensive.
He’d been a regular visitor to the Ceantar na nÓileán area of Connemara since first stumbling on it by accident while driving around Ireland in 1965. From that moment, he had been overwhelmed by the welcome extended to him by local people.
Over the course of five years, Derrick, who lectured in art at Belfast, had moved from sleeping in his tent with his Pyrenean mountain dog, to staying in sheds and barns, where people made up beds for him. But he wasn’t sure why he was being called to a parish meeting – however, all became clear when he got there.
“They told me I was going to build a house locally and said “tomorrow, we are going to show you where”.
Now, some four decades after Derrick built his house and nearly fifty years after first setting foot on Gorumna, he is sharing his unique perspective of Ceantar na nOileán in an exhibition at Galway City Museum. Súil Siar ar Oileáin – An Islands’ Retrospective will run until October.
But, he stresses, the exhibition, which spans a 40-year period, is not about him and he doesn’t want it to be. It’s a celebration of this place and its people, a place which he describes as his spiritual home and which has offered him, his wife Liz and their family a haven through the years.
“If it hadn’t been for the people’s welcome and kindness, I wouldn’t have got the spiritual element of this place,” he observes.
Derrick has been part of Gorumna since he first arrived in 1965, unlike many artists who draw inspiration from West of Ireland scenery while remaining detached from the community.
Back then, he took a two-week driving holiday around Ireland, starting on the East Coast. While he was “dying to see the West of Ireland”, he kept lingering in other places until, with two days left, he arrived in Galway. Intending to travel to Clifden, he took the coast road and took the wrong turn in Casla. Not realising his error he kept going. A local lady named Mary Mulkerrins, who features in the Museum exhibition, came out to meet him. At the time there were six cars, two lorries and one tractor on the island, so his arrival was noticed.
He camped there, leaving himself a day to get back to Belfast, and all these years later, the memory is as vivid as if it were yesterday.
For more, read this week’s Galway City Tribune.
Bowing out after 31 years’ service
James C Harrold has played a key role in Galway’s artistic life for more than three decades. The retiring City Arts officer reflects on his years working in the county and city, and shares memories of artists, events and places, while also looking to the future.
Since 1990 I have been working with the artists, arts organisations, communities and neighbourhoods of Galway; for ten years as City and County Arts Officer, and subsequently specifically in the city. I had returned to Galway from Wexford Arts Centre where I had been Artistic Director, but before that I had spent a lot of time in the West. Every childhood summer was enjoyed in Barna, I went to college here, to UCG, and had worked with Galway Arts Festival, the Arts Centre and Macnas.
My romantic and adoring view of Galway originated in early-years visits to Kennys’ with my bibliophile father, or to Charles Lamb’s studio in Carraroe, or to my mother’s family in musical Belclare at the foot of Knockma.
‘Galway is a paradise,’ I stated firmly in a newspaper profile to mark my appointment.
I was one of the first of the new Local Authority Arts Officers, co-funded by the Arts Council with a brief to develop local arts.
Based in possibly Ireland’s oldest prefab at the back of the County Buildings in Prospect Hill, a handy base to explore from, create and curate projects, networks and funding opportunities, I was tasked to advise and assist the city and county in policy, programming and grant aid. My dear friend and college colleague Michael Diskin had returned to Galway on the same day, February 19th.
For the next 22 years, with Mike from 1994 ensconced in the Town Hall Theatre we met two or three times a week. Back in the ‘80s we had been inspired by Ollie Jennings and Páraic Breathnach, who had laid the foundations for so much of Galway’s creative reputation. We were following in their mighty footsteps and developing our own pathways too.
Early forays into the county involved bringing Little John Nee to the towns and villages every weekend that summer. His children’s shows, mainly open-air in the little market squares of east and north Galway opened conversations that are continuing still.
Read the full story in this week’s Connacht Tribune, on sale in shops now – or download the digital edition from www.connachttribune.ie
Eileen set to soar in Seagull
When Cork-born actress Eileen Walsh got a phone call from Druid’s Artistic Director Garry Hynes a few months ago, asking her to take part in the company’s next production – Thomas Kilroy’s version of Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull – Eileen didn’t hesitate.
“I knew it would be outdoors and Druid have a history of doing huge projects outdoors, successfully. So, I knew it would happen even if Covid went mad again,” she says. Eileen, who lives in London, had already seen a couple of projects fall by the wayside because of the pandemic, but this would be different, she knew.
She had another reason for accepting too – it would mean reuniting onstage with Marty Rea and Marie Mullen, performers for whom she has huge regard. Eileen previously worked with them on other Druid projects, including 2012’s acclaimed DruidMurphy, featuring three plays by Tuam writer, Tom Murphy. More recently, in 2019, she and Marty received rave reviews for their performances in Beginnings, a contemporary play about dating, at the Gate Theatre.
“Working with Marty is always a joy and working with Marie is also a draw,” Eileen says as she gets ready for the first ‘tech’ (technical rehearsal) in Coole Park outside Gort, where The Seagull is being staged, under strict adherence to Covid-19 guidelines.
“Yesterday, upstairs in the rehearsal space in Druid Theatre, we had a moment,” she adds with a laugh. “We were all in one room doing our lines together and the specialness of all – being double-vaxxed and working – wasn’t lost on us.”
Thomas Kilroy’s version of Chekhov’s tragicomedy premiered in London’s Royal Court Theatre in 1981. It’s set in a large country house in the West of Ireland at the time of the Irish literary Renaissance – which was when Chekhov had written the original. The Seagull is a play about family, love, theatricality and jealousy, set in a world where the Anglo-Irish ascendancy presided over the Irish peasantry. But, echoing the original, this was a world on the cusp of change.
Eileen plays Isobel Desmond, with Jack Gleeson (Game of Thrones) as her son Constantine, both of whom are back from London to spend summer at this house – their ancestral home.
Read the full interview in this week’s Connacht Tribune, on sale in shops now – or download the digital edition from www.connachttribune.ie
A day when Tuam Races put paid to the innocence of a young punter
Country Living with Francis Farragher
I couldn’t even remotely claim to have any knowledge of the gee-gees although here and there I’d have the odd little flutter on a horse, and of late, Pateen has been kind enough to me with a couple of good wins across the water. Pateen of course is called after Galway three-in-a-row start, Pat or ‘Pateen’ Donellan, with his original owner, the late Michael Corcoran of solid Dunmore stock.
My childhood memory of horses probably relates to that of many people of a certain generation where the horse – and indeed the donkey as well – were the mainstays of farming life and especially for ageing farmers who just had no interest whatsoever in the purchase of a second-hand or a rebuilt Massey Ferguson. (Ruanes of Athenry were the great specialists of the time in rebuilt Masseys).
We owned the most imperious of a black gelding, his only concession to colour contrast being a white face, and whose pulling power was lauded across the village. But he was never an animal to be taken for granted and especially during the later summer season when the quills or horse flies could provoke him into a sudden and sometimes violent enough tantrum. Only my father could handle him with a mixture of firmness and platitudes but our equine warrior still managed to overturn a load or two of oats or hay when negotiating dodgy gaps that bit too impatiently.
His ageing demise and subsequent sale coincided with my journey into teenage years and that loss of childhood innocence when the realisation strikes that life is transient, made all the more poignant by the fact that it coincided with the gradual decline of my father as he slipped into the 70s and the sunset years of life.
The Galway Races though were always special even if we didn’t venture into Ballybrit that much as a family, as invariably there was always hay to be saved, although a ‘concession’ would often be made in terms of calling into a neighbour’s house with a television to watch The Hurdle or The Plate.
For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.
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