Speech at the launch of the exhibition – Lines of Vision: Irish Writers at the National Gallery
National Gallery of Ireland, Millennium Wing, 7th October 2014
Is cúis mhór áthais dom go bhfuair mé cuireadh an taispeántas nuálach seo a oscailt, dar teideal: Lines of Vision: Irish Writers at the National Gallery nó Línte Amhairc; Scríbhneoirí na hÉireann i nGailearaí Náisiúnta na hÉireann, anseo i Sciathán na Mílaoise sa Ghailearaí. Ba mhaith liom buíochas a ghabháil leis an nGailearaí Náisiúnta as an gcuireadh fial, agus libh go léir as an bhfáilte chroíúil sin.
[It is a great pleasure for me to have been invited to open this innovative exhibition Lines of Vision: Irish Writers at the National Gallery, here in the Millennium Wing of the National Gallery. May I thank the National Gallery for their kind invitation, and all of you for that generous welcome.]
When the National Gallery first opened its doors one hundred and fifty years ago, the Freeman’s Journal, stated that Ireland now had an institution, which would be
‘a great public school in which not only native artists could study the works of great masters, but a place where the public taste could be refined and educated, and the eye made familiar with the beauty of art’
In 1864 112 paintings were displayed and, due to your acquisitions policy and the generosity of donors the collection has grown to over 10,000 works. In that regard we must always honour George Bernard Shaw and those who came after him.
There can be no doubt that the National Gallery has indeed provided a valuable space of culture, enabling generations of Irish citizens to access and enjoy the work of some of the world’s most gifted and renowned artists. It is also a space which has introduced many of our citizens to the multifaceted nature of a great work of art, the layers of meaning that are contained within each individual painting belonging to the Gallery’s collection.
Like all works of art, great paintings never simply transfer or interpret a scene from reality to canvas, they become a source of sensory pleasure, allowing us to temporarily have an experience in another world; make an aesthetic journey of your own to a world which exists as much through the suggestive, as through the descriptive nature of any work.
It is that depth of evocation that has informed the exhibition opening here this evening; an exhibition of paintings which have been chosen by some of Ireland’s most distinguished writers as the inspiration for a collection of memorable literary works. Each individual painting chosen has awoken, in our writers, a desire to dig deep into their memory and imagination in order to create their own unique contribution to this celebratory collection.
Oscar Wilde has said that:
“the self conscious aim of life is to find expression and art offers it several beautiful forms through which it may realise that energy”
Today we not only celebrate this milestone anniversary in the story of our National Gallery, but also an exciting interaction between two art forms. Indeed, each written work produced for the Lines of Vision anthology marks a creative collaboration between two great artists, separated by time and place and form; artists who have never met but who now inhabit a shared and enduring space.
While reading through this exceptional anthology, there were many lines that left a deep impression on me. One that recalled itself to me strongly while preparing to speak to you this evening comes from Jennifer Johnston’s descriptive work Le Dejeuner:
‘I do meet paintings that I like a lot and we speak silently to each other’
The almost fleeting nature of that moment which inspires a piece of writing is a gift for which one cannot prepare but the moment is precious; it may be a fragment of overheard conversation, or a shaft from memory, or a momentary scene glimpsed through a window, transmuted to the page as it renews itself from the imagination of the writer and takes on a life of its own.
In this anthology we see how the work of master painters such as Monet, Caravaggio, El Greco, Paul Henry, Jack Butler Yeats, Walter Osborne and so many others, while reflecting the mood and vision of their creator, have also ‘spoken silently’ to our writers, serving as the inspiration for further works of creativity, conceived and developed in a different age and shaded by an altered set of preoccupations.
It reminds us of the deeply personal nature of all works of art, and of the impossibility of separating the sharp brush strokes or flawless prose from the deep and byzantine emotion which must lie at the heart of any memorable art.
It also reminds us of how, at its most fundamental level, art is driven by circumstance and by context and, even at its most experimental, cannot fail to provide, at the very least, a muted and diffused mirror of the prevailing society of the time, acting as a vehicle for addressing the anxieties and complexities of the everyday.
This anthology grants us a unique opportunity to experience how writers in a contemporary age can interpret artistic works created in the past, and weave them into stories and poems that resound with a relevance in today’s society.
It is an anthology I am reading with great pleasure and which will receive a very welcome home at Áras an Úachtaráin. This is a collection of work which constantly surprises, astonishes and causes the reader to see the unexpected in the familiar.
I have read much to remark on so far: the very different yet powerful ways in which Bonnard’s Le Dejeuner speaks to Jennifer Johnston and Kerrie Hardie; the shades and hues and intensities of sorrow woven deep into the lines of Declan Bolger’s compelling prose, inspired by Jack Butler Yeats’ ‘Grief’; the swift catapulting of words used to depict women’s fight for an equal world in Colm McCann’s beautifully spare ‘Propellers’, enkindled by Mary Swanzy’s painting of the same name. I am confident that as I continue to engage with the collisions of creative sensibility in this volume there will be many more pieces that will invite me to return and look at the paintings here today, and go back to the world I inhabit and see it afresh and from new and unexpected angles.
May I conclude by thanking and congratulating all the writers who have contributed to this anthology, creating a memorable and lasting testament to this significant anniversary.
Ba mhaith liom, freisin, comhghairdeas a dhéanamh le Bord Gobharnóirí agus Bardachta an Ghailearaí, leis an Stiúrthóir agus leis an bhfoireann agus leo sin go léir a rinne a gcion tairbhe dá bhfuil bainte amach ag Gailearaí Náisiúnta na hÉireann thar na blianta. Guím gach rath oraibh agus sibh ag leanúint le bhur n-obair thábhachtach.
[I would also like to congratulate the Board of Governors and Guardians of the Gallery and its Director and Staff and all those who have contributed to the many achievements of the National Gallery of Ireland over the years. I wish you every success as you continue with your important work.]
Go raibh míle maith agaibh go léir.