REMARKS BY PRESIDENT MCALEESE AT A RECEPTION TO MARK THE OFFICIAL OPENING OF THE HYDE ROOM
REMARKS BY PRESIDENT MCALEESE AT A RECEPTION TO MARK THE OFFICIAL OPENING OF THE HYDE ROOM ÁRAS AN UACHTARÁIN
Cuireann sé áthas ar mo chroí fáilte fíorchaoin a chur romhaibh go léir chuig Áras an Uachtaráin. Is ócáid speisialta í seo domsa agus tá gliondar orm í a cheiliúradh libh anseo inniu.
Ladies and Gentlemen
It is a great pleasure for myself and Martin to welcome you to Áras an Uachtaráin for the formal opening of this room, the Hyde Room, today. This is a place where receptions will be held, but behind that official description, will, I hope, lie a rich human dimension. I hope that it will be a place where people of different backgrounds, outlook and belief, will feel at ease in themselves and with each other, a place of music and song, where old friends swap memories, and new acquaintances exchange their stories. A place where traditions meet, and initial wariness dissolves in a joyful exploration and celebration of diversity.
Áras an Uachtaráin, whose story is told in the book that I am launching here today, is itself a product of that diversity. Its art and architecture reflect the many strands and traditions that have taken root and been woven together on thisisland, sometimes shared, sometimes diverging, but each inextricably part of the whole and each deserving to be valued and respected as such. For even, perhaps especially, that which has differed from us, has been part of the powerful forces which shaped our history and in shaping it, has shaped each one of us. We are truly delighted that each of you has joined us here today, adding another thread of diversity to the history and living reality of this House. This very room in which we are gathered is part of that story. The Earl of Eglington and Winton was Viceroy in 1858 and, having an interest in tennis and a familiarity with Irish weather patterns, he adapted the building so that he could pursue his sporting interests indoors. It became known as the Racquet Hall building.
Today, it is appropriate that we name it in honour of Douglas Hyde, himself a powerful advocate of cultural diversity, the anniversary of whose death fifty one years ago we commemorate today. It is no coincidence that Hyde was chosen as the first President of what was then a fractured and bitterly divided country, a place that was badly in need of healers and bridge builders. In his life and work, we get a glimpse of what can be achieved when traditions are allowed to embrace in mutual respect. A Protestant, a nationalist, a man from an English speaking family who became a central figure in the movement to preserve the Irish language and culture - Hyde challenged so many of the lazy ‘you belong in this box’ assumptions that have for generations twisted and contorted how we view each other and each other’s traditions. Nor did Hyde seek to impose new and equally confining categorisations on others. Among his great friends was Rois Ní Ogain - aristocratic, unionist, Irish speaker, collector of Irish folklore, great-aunt of the present Lady Brookeborough. Such remarkable alliances, such encouraging witnesses to the consensus-based world that we are now trying to craft out of the debris of hatred and conflict.
We know only too well how the cultural, political, religious and linguistic barriers that Hyde transcended so easily, became stronger, higher, more impregnable in the generations that followed. Now, those barricades are starting to be chiselled away. That gives us an opportunity to look afresh, to look with a new honesty, at the historical and cultural forces that have shaped each of us, in different ways, but with equal impact.
Among the most fundamental and enduring of those forces has been the Battle of the Boyne. Regardless of how we remember that day, regardless of whether our tradition springs from the winning or losing side of that Battle, we have all lived with its echoes, we live with them still. And so it is right, as we gather here today, that we should acknowledge the profound significance of the 12th of July for everyone on this island. It is a day of symbols and imagery, loaded with as many meanings as there are onlookers. Many poets and dramatists have sought to explore those meanings, from a Jacobite as well as a Williamite perspective, each bringing their own impressions, insight and imagination. It is surprising how little known such work is, how few people from either tradition, for example, are familiar with Patrick Kavanagh’s poem ‘The Twelfth of July’ which Stephen Rea will read for us later on. Kavanagh describes:
‘The twelfth of July, the voice of Ulster speaking
Tart as week-old buttermilk from a churn
Surprising the tired palates of the South’.
Kavanagh captures something of the bemusement with which many in the South view the unyielding rhetoric of Ulster in marching mode, but also the contrasting reality of actual life that lurks beneath the surface of that rhetoric. Behind the barricades which each tradition erects, are shades of complexity the other side rarely gets to see.
Another aspect of the 12th is revealed in John Hewitt’s poem, ‘The Eleventh Night’ which recalls a child’s excitement in the build-up to ‘this marching season crested in July, gay bunting, arches, spanned streets.....for weeks we haul and heap our horde of sticks to build our bonfires’. The gable murals, the songs, the bonfires, are remembered as unifying symbols of celebration, defining a sense of place, of belonging not just to a community but to a particular patch within that community, a circle within a circle.
There is a painting by Sir John Lavery called ‘The Twelfth of July, Portadown’, completed more than 70 years ago, on which Robert Greacen has based his poem ‘Procession’. It ends with these words:
‘The past invades the present
The present lives in the past
The future will never come’.
We have all travelled too far, to accept that the future, this future we all hope for, will never come. It is almost there. We have grown so much in understanding of how it is possible to be enriched by the past, without being trapped by it. Today, in this room, we are surrounded by these extraordinary paintings by Hughie O’Donoghue, from his series ‘Episodes from the Passion’. They are paintings about pain and fear, but they are also about redemption, the ever present possibility of a new beginning. This first year, this first 12th of July, of a new Millennium, is a good place to embrace that future.
I would like to thank all of our musicians here today: Pádraigín Ní Uallacháín and Len Graham who will sing a selection of songs which illustrate the diversity of our musical heritage; the wonderful Different Drums group who are performing outside on the lawn; our Harpist, Denise Kelly who played in the Front Hall. A warm thank you also to our MC for today, Larry Bass, and to Stephen Rea to whom I am now handing you over. Most of all, thanks to all of you for coming here today. I hope you will enjoy the day.
Tá súil agam go mbainfaidh sibh taitneamh agus sult as an ceiliúradh seo inniu. Go maire sibh.