Cultural Update

I went to the French evening at the national gallery a couple of months ago. There was a French man who was particularly passionate about Caillebotte. I mean, I don’t mind him myself but I couldn’t muster the enthusiasm this man demonstrated particularly for the very underwhelming picture we have in the National Gallery in Dublin. But still, interesting overall.

On the same evening we went to what was billed as a duet if memory serves. The ubiquitous Olwen Fouéré (interesting back story) was onstage with a man whose name I have forgotten. She is quite a stiking presence but the material was underwhelming and when it ended with both participants walking down the aisle shouting loudly (part of the performance not a disagreement), I was delighted it was over. So was everyone else I’d say as there was only a solitary standing ovation in a city where this has become entirely standard.

I saw Dara Ó Briain’s stand up about finding his father which was one of the best things I’ve seen all year. Recommended.

Mr. Waffle and I went on a walking tour beginning at the tenement museum in Henrietta Street. We were the only people on the tour and, to be fair to the guide, he quickly realised we were the honours class and covered lots of new material of which we were not previously aware. Before retiring and beginning his new role of leading tourists around the place, the guide had, for many years, worked closely with former Irish president Paddy Hillery who told him this story. When he (Dr. Hillery) was Minister for Education (before ascending to the heights of the Presidency, obviously) he went up into a very rural part of Clare (where he was the local member of Parliament – TD). He went into the classroom of this small one teacher school and the young woman who was teaching there jumped up in alarm and then relaxed saying, “Oh, it’s yourself, Dr. Paddy, I thought it was the school inspector”.

I riposted with my own Paddy Hillery story, possibly apocryphal serving to demonstrate the expectations that the electorate have of their politicians. One Christmas day a man came round to Dr. Hillery’s house (he was a medical doctor) and banged anxiously on the door. Dr. Hillery by then the local TD rose from his Christmas dinner to see what was the matter. The man said, “You must come quickly, my wife is in labour.” “But why haven’t you gone to your own GP?” asked Dr. Hillery reaching for his coat. “Oh, I didn’t like to disturb him on Christmas day,” said the constituent.

I have a friend with whom I do cultural things. She got tickets for “An evening of Nature and Birdsong”. I went along but I did not expect to enjoy it. However, I did. Firstly, I discovered that they have quite the auditorium in the Royal Irish Academy of Music on Westland Row; and secondly I found the two young men who were speaking about nature hugely engaging. Especially the man from Cork, obviously but the young man from Northern Ireland was pretty good too. They were really interesting and I never thought I would find recorded birdsong quite so interesting.

Herself, Mr. Waffle and I visited Emo Court over the summer. It’s only just reopened and is worth a look. Amusingly, the last resident, a Major Cholmeley Harrison, acquired an extensive art collection and the attributions are…optimistic. “Is that really by [insert name of famous artist here]?” I asked in astonishment again and again and the OPW guide said each time “No, that’s just the label the Major put on it.” Dubious attributions notwithstanding it’s well worth visiting.

We went to see The Naked Gun in the cinema with a selection of the children. Not culture, you say. Well, you might be right. A couple of years ago my new year’s resolution was to go to the cinema more often and it was great for a while but I have fallen off the wagon; this is a reminder that I need to get back in the saddle (do you like my mixed metaphor?). Oh the film? It was terrible.

Mr. Waffle and I went back to Henrietta street for a tea time talk about the local school which we really enjoyed. There were lots of older (and some younger) people there who had attended the school and they really added to the event. I also got hold of this map of Dublin which is really interesting and I share here as an act of public service. See the way the birth place of Edmund Burke is down there on Arran Quay? Well, his mother was a Nagle and she was a cousin of Nano Nagle who was the founder of the Presentation order and the school we were looking at was a Presentation school just up the road attached to which was a very early Presentation convent (I think maybe the second one after Cork where HQ was, though I’m not sure). I do wonder was Burke baptised as persistent rumour has it? I wouldn’t be at all surprised. Wikipedia tells me his sister was brought up and remained a Roman Catholic. Doubtless much ink has been spilt on this question.

We went to see a comedian called Holly Hughes in the Dublin Fringe Festival on how she became Karen. Like the curate’s egg, good in places.

We saw David Sedaris in the cavernous Bord Gáis energy theatre. We saw him a while ago in the National Concert Hall and that was hilarious but that was a small venue which allowed banter with the audience and where he wasn’t overwhelmed by the size of the stage. The huge venue was full (normally does West End block busters on their Irish tour) so the fans are out there and he is very funny but a reading, even a very funny reading, just didn’t work in this venue. Disappointing.

We saw a new play based on Oedipus Rex “The Boy” at the Abbey theatre. I’m honestly still not the better of it. That is a very harrowing play. What the ancient Greeks thought when they were seeing it for the first time, I can only imagine (possibly that Sophocles should be locked up). I thought it was a really great production. Incidentally, featured Olwen Fouéré in a supporting role. Highly recommended.

We went to a talk on Great Irish Wives which was an interview with the author of a book of the same name. Mildly interesting.

I went to the Picasso exhibition in the National Gallery. I don’t like Picasso much but, despite myself, I was impressed by his extraordinary vigour, right into his 90s. Apparently when he died he left 45,000 different pieces of art in his various studios and, obviously, that doesn’t include the stuff he sold to fund his lavish lifestyle. His personal life left a lot to be desired in my view. He left a slew of disappointed (all younger, often much younger) women in his wake. Our guide told us that he loved animals and once won a goat which he brought home and had living in the house along with his partner and two small children. This was too much for madame who got rid of the goat and there was a huge row. Apparently, his new partner when she was moved in gave him a present of a goat.

Old goat.

Any cultural news from your end?