Killiney Relief

The plaque on the obelisk at the top of Killiney Hill tells much of the story. "Last year being hard with the poor, walks about these hills and this were erected by John Mapas, June 1742."  The park was always intended for the people and so it remains. It was purchased and made public by Prince Albert to commemorate Queen Victoria's Jubilee, having been private property for a while. So much land is in private hands and it is a shame that people cannot always tread the soil of their country or access the sea. But in this case we can all enjoy magnificent views of Dublin's coastline. I was lucky with this shot because the previous one has no people in it. But suddenly father and daughter walked into my shot, bringing a lovely splash of red. And a dog appeared in full flight (on the far left)  -  again I was lucky because I had no idea they were there! An obelisk is a kind of tower so in this case it would symbolise watchfulness. Killiney  Hill was used to communicate news of invading forces and the obelisk with its small room and windows does remind me a little of a lighthouse. It's interesting that the buildings and walls in the park were originally intended as relief work for the poor following the Famine and it's also interesting that such public works continue. But these days it's usually roadworks!

Saintly Truth On the Ceiling

This is a decorated ceiling in Castel d'Angelo in Rome and I did like the centrepiece. But again, I couldn't track it down. There was a similar image on the Internet but no further information. This was was the apartment of Pope Paul III but who was the figure in the painting? Again I had to search by describing the image and this has to be the Archangel St Michael. Only he has the boots, wings and unsheathed sword and interestingly he is one of the few saints common to Christians, Jews and Muslims. According to my source, the Lucky Mojo Curio Company, he is the Patron Saint of Policeman and if you boil up some bay leaves and write a careful prayer to St Michael, you will be successful in sports competitions. In one old painting St Michael is depicted with his foot on the throat of a wrongdoer, poised to eliminate him with his sword. Importantly for psychoanalysts the sword often denotes the Word and in Christian philosophy, the sword can mean speech and eloquence, possibly due to the double edge of both sword and tongue. Psychoanalyst Lacan said the only desire of the psychoanalyst may be that the client communicates with him in words. Freud talks of the "sword of speech" and following him, Lacan speaks that "Truth hollows its way into the real, thanks to the dimension of speech." So what is St Michael saying I wonder, up there on the ceiling?

The Man who (nearly) fell to Earth

I spotted his near Dublin's National Concert Hall, although I nearly missed it by not looking up! I have no idea why it's there and I will be pleased if someone lets me know. It's quite realistic. This is at the far end of a telephoto lens, so from a distance it's kind of convincing. I speculated about what it might mean - apart from "a night on the tiles". "He got drunk and didn't make it home," perhaps. That suits me, because drunkenness is indeed a symbol. It would have to be be, since inebriation is all about an altered state and hence mystical and other-worldly. Compulsory drinking bouts were common amongst Chinese societies and naturally Celtic ones too. Even the Aztecs have their 400 rabbit gods who are drunk at all times after imbibing the sacred pulque. The drinking rituals are about reawakening the life force, often in midwinter, although it sometimes seems like the opposite! Samain (November) would be the major Celtic celebration and mead the chosen drink in earlier times. The Ancients called wine that was high in alcohol, pure wine, and in Gaul as well as Ireland there was usually a bit of fisticuffs after imbibing large quantities. Participants would be deprived of their weapons beforehand, for obvious reasons. The rituals were compulsory so there was no getting out of it. And if you were Welsh and a deposed king, drowning in a vat of beer might be your fate. But I am no closer to the reason for the street art - or maybe it's really a person after all!

Skeleton Time

This fascinating gravestone was on the wall in a church in Rome. I couldn't remember where I took the photo - the perils of not taking an establishing shot!  But I have tracked it down. It is the San Lorenzo in Damaso Church in the Piazza della Cancelleria. I know because it's just after the shots I took in the Leonardo Exhibition in a palace that surrounds the church. Then a bit of detective work revealed that it is a work by none other than Gian Lorenzo Bernini. This is not so much a representation of of death, but the skeleton of a dead person. It is perhaps the representation of the state of being dead. Memento mori, remember that you will die, is something we should all bear in mind. Our time is limited and we should use it well. The Scots have a saying, "we're a long time dead." Our time alive is short, in comparison to the other state. This type of funerary monument was for the rich, who could afford a sculptor and a grave within the church itself. Richer folks commissioned a whole chapel! But it did provide work for sculptors who were otherwise unemployed. The skeleton is not very scary is it? And it's certainly not the devil. In Petronius' Satyricon, a silver skeleton moves around a banquet, serving to remind us of the brevity of life. Its message appears to be "enjoy life while you can." So we should appreciate the fleeting moment and try to live in the "now".

All the Gods need a Blue Sky

This is the Pantheon dome in Rome.  "He does like his domes," readers might observe, and that would be true. With this one I didn't like the white sky at the centre. I wanted to see the heavens and I guess that for me the heavens are blue. But I have a collection of skies that I shot in Herbert Park in Dublin and I replaced the white with a sky I liked. The blue colour spill on the dome is original though - and it could just be "noise". The camera couldn't cope with the speed I asked for and produced some interference. So I played with the image a bit and I did get rid of it, but I put it back because the picture looked better. The Pantheon is one of these places that you really have to see. Yet it's hardly original in its present form, having been modified and built upon since Agrippa dedicated it to all the Gods. That was some time before Hadrian rebuilt it in AD126. The dome is the same since then and it is speculated that the dome is the reason for the name "Pantheon",  since it resembles the heavens and as such, "All the Gods". Such a dome requires a blue sky. It would be disrespectful to have anything different. And that does remind me of a cliché that for a while replaced "brain storming". "Lets blue sky it," management people said for a while. It meant "thinking without preconceptions" and admitted no pessimism. But in real life, just as in my original Pantheon photograph, we don't always have the luxury of a blue sky. Not even in Herbert Park.

The Ambivalance of the Aquatic Arthropod

As the blog progressed I began to find that you could run out of symbols. True symbols are ineffable, incapable of being described. What could be more ineffable that a crab? Indeed we have not spoken of the humble crustacean before. It's the zodiac sign of Cancer and so I'm surprised that the aquatic arthropod has not made an appearance! In some cultures they are regarded as crafty because of the sideways scuttle. But I particularly like a myth from the Andaman islands. The first man who ever drowned, capsized the boat in which his mate had set out to look for him. She joined him and they both changed into a crab. It's kind of creation myth that adequately explains the jointed limbs and segmented body of this strange sea creature. More often than not the crab is a symbol of incarnation, an avatar of transcendental forces. And although they usually originate in the underworld, crabs often come from the sky. Yet despite the coincidence of the Zodiac sign with the summer solstice, crabs are lunar symbols and are usually depicted on the Moon Tarot card. They move backwards and forwards and so like the best of symbols, are ambivalent and can be either good or evil. I saw this fellow, sadly demised, on the beach at Fregene near Rome - and couldn't resist taking a photograph. The beach too is ineffable with its many shifting grains of sand and the crab has found its last resting place there.

Portrait of man looking at a Portrait

This happens to me every year. My partner will spot a photo opportunity and I moan and groan about the light. But I then I go for it and it turns out well. It's shot in the ancient Jewish Ghetto of Rome in one of these narrow streets with artisan shops - and the only light is from the window. With this kind of picture I always wonder about the subject. He was much too absorbed in his search to notice me or my camera. How nice that is. The search for the object is at least as important as its acquisition. And the joy of finding something one was looking for after a long search is exquisite. It really is beyond price and even value. Any collector will be pleased tell you of the journey to find that elusive book, album or print - often at length. It's part of the object's provenance. I like to find a book that has some kind of history inscribed on the inside pages. Perhaps it was a gift and the giver pondered for a long time over how delighted the recipient would be to receive it. That relationship sabotages a gift relationship that demands we give a like object in return. Yet I like to think this man has found something he was looking for - for himself. Perhaps it meant something very special to him. I hope it did - and that he purchased it and took it home joyfully.