This morning we woke up early to get breakfast, but the Irish must like to sleep in because the streets were empty at 8 am and most restaurants, etc. were closed. However, there was a corner market/liquor store open that sold danishes, yogurt, packaged sandwiches, and vending machine coffee down the street from our hotel, so we made the best of it with that. Afterwards we set out for The National Gallery, which was about a 45 minute walk from our hotel. After the National Gallery, we went to Eddie Rockets for lunch, and then we walked around for a while before heading back to the hotel. We rested up for a bit, and then we went to the Brazen Head for dinner and storytelling.
The National Gallery was fabulous, but then again, I could spend a hundred years in an art museum and never get bored. The National Gallery was built in 1864, so they are currently celebrating their 150th anniversary and making extensive renovations, which means part of the museum is closed to visitors. Still, they had a section of "highlights" from the museum as well as a special commemorative exhibit for the 150th anniversary and another exhibit on Irish writers that I will mention later. It was obviously my favorite part. I was surprised at the extent of their collection, which is mostly based on donations from private collections. Still, they had a Rembrandt, a Caravaggio, a Monet, and a Picasso just to name a few, though the majority of the collection celebrated Irish painters with whom I am unfamiliar. I feel like I need to take a crash course in art history before I make any further comments.
The first exhibit we entered, however, was not the "highlights" exhibit but rather an exhibit showcasing the top ten winners of a portrait contest held at the museum for Irish artists. The portraits could be anything--videos, sketches, paintings, photographs, whatever, as long as it was a portrait. Now, I must (ashamedly) admit that I'm not a huge fan of modern art, but I love this painting (pictured below) by Geraldine O'Niell. I think it's so interesting how she has combined a multitude of artistic eras and styles into one piece of art and that the center of it all is Schrödinger's cat, whose existence is a question that reaches people on a multitude of levels. More than that, it raises art to a new level by brining in philosophy, psychology, science, and math. Then again, maybe it just reminds us that all these disciplines are a part of art.
My favorite exhibit was called Lines of Vision and was a gallery devoted to artwork that has inspired works of literature by contemporary Irish writers. Sure, the National Gallery impacted W.B.Yeats and George Bernard Shaw (what is it with Irish men and having "B" middle names?), but the gallery has also influenced contemporary writers and changed the way these writers see the world. Art is so important for literature; you can see that in the poems by Robert Browning who portrays many artists in his poems (really monologues with a rhyme scheme). Still, I think it's cool that an art museum took the time to choose art that celebrated the literature of Ireland. They also compiled a book of all of the art inspired stories and essays. I would love to get a copy, but I wasn't sure if it was worth €30, so I'm going to see if I could find it somewhere cheaper.
After we finished touring the exhibits, we had tea in the café. After tea time, we went to Eddie Rockets for lunch, which was like Johnny Rockets in America (i.e. they served burgers, fries, and shakes and the decorations were the same). Their burgers were delicious, and they added a special sauce instead of mustard, mayo, or ketchup that was definitely mayonnaise based but sweet. I'm not a food critic, but I was impressed.
Tonight's dinner topped everything, though. The Brazen Head is not only the oldest pub in Ireland, but it's also the prettiest pub I've been in. It has a stone gate with greenery overhead and a pleasant cobblestone courtyard that doubles as an outside bar. The inside seems small, but it has three levels of spacious, 18th century style rooms, connected by a narrow wooden staircase. Our entertainment for the night involved a professional storytelling and some folk singers. The storyteller regaled us with tales of the famine, and explained to us how important the potato was to the Irish diet. If the poor had nothing else, they had potatoes. I've been trying to create an analogy for the potato famine to American culture, but I don't think I can. Just imagine the one thing you can't live without-the thing that would kill you if you lost it-taken away from you and slowly watching you, your family, and all your friends dying because of it. But then we moved on to happier tales of fairies and folk stories told by a fire.
Because it's getting late here (almost midnight), and I'm tired, I'll just give you the highlights. 1.) Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream is an Irish fairy who is apparently the worst, most mischievous fairy of them all. He kidnaps people from bars and carries them on his back for the night before dumping them in a ditch. To me, it sounds like someone got smashed and chose to blame a fictitious character for his or her irresponsible actions, but that's just my opinion. 2.) Leprechauns are fallen fairies because they are too ugly to actually be fairies, and they tend to mislead people by offering "fool's gold." For example, a leprechaun once tricked a man into burying his pot of gold under a tree marked with a red ribbon, but when the man went to get the gold the next day, all of the trees had ribbon around them. So leprechauns not only steal your breakfast, but they also aren't very nice. 3.) There are some nice fairies who do things like fix hunchbacks (someone needs to inform The Hunchback of Notre Dame that this is an option), but just as easily, they can be vindictive. Like most folk tales: good begets good and bad begets bad.
The beautiful thing about the folktales we heard tonight is the impact that they have on Irish culture. One of the things I love about this country is their dependence on the past and their willingness to integrate it with the present. To many people it would seem ludicrous that the government spent extra time and money to build a road around a tree or that a major corporation built their building around a piece of sacred fairy land, but to me, it shows a reverence for something beyond the consumer-obsessed culture we have today. More than that, it opens up the mind to imagination in a way that very few things do. These Irish storytellers, sitting by their fires, are not only sharing the past, but they are creating a space where imagination can blossom into something beautiful and lasting. They are encouraging other generations to participate in a collective, cultural imagination of which I am extremely jealous. And now it makes sense why George Bernard Shaw, W.B. Yeats, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett and so many other Irish writers had such prolific imaginations. I like to think they still believe in fairies.
And before I forget, here's a group picture of us on one of the bridges crossing Dublin's only river, The River Liffey.
What a beautiful bridge....I mean group of students!!!
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