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OBEY stickers hit Dublin

OBEY stickers spotted around Temple Bar today. Thanks to Luke F. for sending these snaps on.

(c) LF

(c) LF

(c) LF

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Dublin’s shortest street

For many many years, the shortest street in Dublin was Canon Street which was situated just off Bride Street near St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It was originally named Petty Canon Alley in the 1750s after the minor canons (members of the clergy who “assists in the daily services of a cathedral but is not a member of the chapter.”) of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

The street had just one address, the public house of Messrs. Rutledge and Sons, and was such described in 1949 as the ‘shortest street in the world’ (Irish Press) and in 1954 as the ‘shortest street in Europe’ (Irish Times).

Canon Street can be seen in this old photo. Rutledge and Sons is the corner building in the bottom left hand side of the picture.

Aerial view of St. Patrick's Cathedral and surrounding area. nd.

An image of the pub from the 1940s.

Rutlegde & Sons pub, 1 Canon Street. Irish Press, Apr 22, 1949.

Rutlegde & Sons pub, 1 Canon Street. Irish Press, Apr 22, 1949.

It also hosted, to rear of the street, the famous Dublin Bird market for hundreds of years.

Canon Street Bird Market. nd. (Picture uploaded by Nioclás Mac Aodhagáin)

The pub was demolished and so the street disappeared in the late 1960s to make way for the widening of Bride Street.

Today, it is generally accepted that Palace Street, just off Dame Street and a attached to Dame Lane is Dublin’s shortest street with only two addresses. No.1 is the French restaurant Chez Max and No.2 was the building that hosted the The Sick and Indigent Roomkeepers Society from 1855 to 1992.

Does anyone know of a shorter street?

Nos 1 and 2 Palace Street on the left of the picture.

The statues on each side of the Trinity College Dublin Campanile are well known to many, not only to students of the college but also to the many Dubliners who use use the college as a shortcut from Dame Street to Nassau Street.

On the left hand side, you find George Salmon. Salmon, as well as being a highly regarded mathematician and theologian, was a one time Provost of the institution, a deeply conservative figure who firmly opposed the admittance of women to Trinity. “If a female had once passed the gate …it would be practically impossible to watch what buildings or what chambers she might enter, or how long she might remain there” wrote the Board of Trinity College in 1895, capturing the spirit of the institution in Salmon’s time. It was somewhat ironic the first female student at Trinity College Dublin was to arrive soon after his death in January 1904. On the far side of the Campanile sits a fine memorial to historian W.E.H Lecky.

George Salmon today.

The George Salmon monument was first placed on the Trinity campus in 1911, though it didn’t sit in its current location at Parliament Square, but rather in the hall of the museum of the college. The sculpture was John Hughes, and The Irish Times noted at the time that the statue was carved of Galway marble. It was done in Hughes’ studio in Paris, based on photographs of Salmon. The statue has moved around Trinity on several occasions, beginning its life in the hall of the museum before being moved to the small lawn at the end of the library, near to the playing fields.

Yet to many, the statue was considered quite ugly. Writing in the letters pages of The Irish Times in January 1964, Owen Sheehy Skeffington defended the statue of Salmon, noting that “it is not a work of outstanding artistic distinction, but it has a rugged honesty that of the ‘warts and all’ type which accords well with the fearlessness and integrity of Salmon the man.”

Some never saw the appeal of the monument however, and twice in the early 1960s Salmon’s monument made the national broadsheet papers following attacks upon it. In February of 1961, the monument was daubed with red paint and creosote. An official of the university remarked to The Irish Times that it was “probably some undergraduate prank”, but the paper quoted one student who passed them as saying “it was about time- and you can quote me on that.” In March 1963, Salmon was again singled out for attack, when black and red ink was flung upon it.

This Irish Times image shows the damage to Salmon following the 1961 incident.

Salmon was only moved to his contemporary location in January 1964. It became the first monument placed in the front square of the college in nearly 30 years, seated on the far side of the Campanile from Lecky. The Irish Times noted that “some people who have looked at the statue are doubtful about the wisdom of placing it in the square” and went on to state that it “is considered by many to be rather ugly.”

With Salmon having insisted women would not enter his beloved university, he must have turned in his grave in October 2004. The Philosophical Society of Trinity College chose Salmon’s marble statue as an ideal location for a photoshoot for Kayleigh Pearson, the Phil’s first invited chair of the year. If her name doesn’t ring a bell immediately, I’ll spare you the Google: she was a model from mens mag FHM, Britain’s favourite ‘Girl Next Door’ no less. Trinity had come a long way.

Lookleft Nua.

The latest LookLeft has made it to the streets, and should be shelved at Easons branches nationwide by Saturday. The cover is the work of Luke Fallon, and though I’m a bit biased I think it’s a nice break with regards normal left-wing aesthetic and design. Below is the blurb for the magazine, but it’s worth mentioning from ourselves you’ll find a piece focusing on long-time Come Here To Me favourites ‘The Blades’ (see here for some of the posts jaycarax has given us on the band) and a piece on the upcoming ‘Decade of Centenaries’ and what it means to different people.

The new edition of LookLeft is out now. It is now expanded to 40 pages, proving that growth is possible even in an age of austerity. Highlights include:

* Ireland’s poll tax – building a mass non-payment campaign against the household charge

* Class Dismissed – Conor McCabe on the need for class to become a central part of political and social debate in Ireland

* Whose Decade is it Anyway? – Donal Fallon on the forthcoming centenary commemorations

* Street Wars – Fergus Whelan on family history and ideological battles on the streets of 1930s Dublin

* Making the Future Work – Alan Myler on workplace democracy and economic recovery

* Football and Revolution – David Lynch on Egyptian Ultras and political struggle

* Feminism’s New Dawn? – Leah Culhane on Irish feminist debates on the Slutwalk phenomenon

* Rebel with a Cause? – Interview with Patrick Nulty TD

* Not Even Our Rivers Run Free – Padraig Mannion on the water privatisation agenda north and south

Unlock NAMA, a fantastic campaign dedicated to the promoting the ‘access NAMA properties for social and community use and to hold NAMA to account’, are hosting a kick ass fundraiser on Saturday night in King 7, Capel St.

Warming up the night’s proceeding will be aurally pleasurable Prog band E5 Disconnect, indie pop punks Ghost Trap and crust ‘dolecore’ Twisted Mass.

Taking us into the wee hours will be Kaboogie! legend PCP, RAID’s gKB, Drum n Bass connoisseur Executive Steve (Tribe / Ancient Ways) and Monaghan’s No1. DJ of all time Welfare (Jungle Boogie/Subversus / Choonage) who has been tearing up house parties, raves and club nights with a cheeky smile since 2004.

Facebook event here. Sharing is caring.

Poster - Dermo

 

Tomorrow sees Bohs first home League game of the season, and to coin a phrase, all has changed, changed utterly. We’re lucky to have a team on the pitch, never mind a team who, despite their youth, fight like lions for possession and give it their all as seen over the last couple of weeks in the Setanta Cup and our first League game against Derry. I don’t think anyone can be disappointed with the effort put in so far.

But, to the point. Tomorrow evening, at six o’clock or so, I’ll make the journey up North Circular Road. Coming to Mountjoy Prison or there-abouts, I’ll see the beacons in the distance that are the floodlights of Dalymount Park. And then I’ll start to get the jitters. They signify the start of something, generally a night of beer, shouting my head off, beer, football, camaraderie, beer, shouting my head off again and a sense of ‘home.’ They signify everything I love about this League, a feeling those who follow a foreign team might get if they were to make their yearly trip to Old Trafford or Anfield every week instead. But they don’t, and won’t ever feel it the same way. Its a feeling of pride/ despair/ love/ heartbreak/ joy/ pain. (Insert where appropriate.)

Anyways, the reason for this post. Yesterday, the seventh of March was the fiftieth anniversary of the installation of floodlights at Dalymount Park. One of the most striking features of the Phibsboro and indeed the North Dublin skyline has been around for a full half century. How old they are is anyone’s guess when you think the pylons themselves came from Arsenal second hand, and they were guest opposition on the event of their unveiling. Below is a scan of the programme cover from that night, shame I can’t find the match report.

So, for half a century, the phrase “just follow the floodlights” has been used when directing visitors to Dalymount. For half a century, people have been feeling that same feeling I do when I’m walking up the NCR on a Friday night. I can’t wait for it tomorrow, that feeling never grows old. This isn’t the end, and we told you so. Come on Bohs.

Cheers to Giofóg from thebohs.com messageboard’s Da  for uploading the scan, and Dotsy for the picture above.

Last year I wrote a piece for ‘Sidelines’ in History Ireland magazine covering a temporary exhibition in Belfast’s City Hall to mark the 70th anniversary of Dublin firefighters coming to the assistance of Belfast during the bombing of that city in World War II. Much of that report is below, along with new images and information.

(Las Fallon collection) Two war time Dublin firefighters, Jack Conroy and Dan Dowd

The decision of Éamon de Valera’s government to send emergency assistance to Belfast following the bombing of that city in April and early May of 1941 is a landmark moment in cross-border diplomatic relations. The response of the Dublin government to the urgent message from the War Room at Stormont was a remarkable moment owing to the historically tense relations between the two states. While hundreds of firemen from both Glasgow and Liverpool were dispatched, they could not reach Belfast until much later in the day on April 16th following the bombings of April 15th. Dublin’s assistance was required urgently.

Immediately upon the Ministry of Public Security requesting the assistance of the Dublin Fire Brigade, men from the south would make the journey to the blitzed city of Belfast. From Dublin alone, 3 regular and 3 auxiliary engines would be sent. Dun Laoghaire, Drogheda and Dundalk each contributed an engine to the cross-border effort.

Writing in 1960, Dublin Fire Brigade District Officer Michael Rodgers recalled that while the war had been raging for two years, “it all seemed very remote to me. I looked on it as a deadly game being played in different fields and followed it with a fascinated curiosity.” No doubt such an attitude to the conflict was common. The Irish Sea, he noted, was his protecting moat. With the bombing of Belfast, all changed dramatically. “Life had been lost and property damaged. My moat had been crossed.” Tragedy, District Officer Rodgers noted, knows no border.

The Dublin Fire Brigade would make two cross-border journeys, the first on April 16th and again on May 5th. Following the first cross-border trip, the matter was debated at Dublin Corporation with Jim Larkin asking “by whose authority had the fire brigade left the jurisdiction of Éire and proceed to the Six-Counties.” Another councillor responded to Larkin by enquiring that “supposing Galway had been bombed, would any questions have arisen had the Fire Brigade gone down there?” Larkin insisted it would, and noted his enquires were in relation to payment of the men and also in relation to where liability would rest had one of the men been injured or died in the course of the cross-border assistance.

Fire Brigade historian Tom Geraghty noted in his study of the Dublin Fire Brigade that the response to the appeal for assistance within the job had been extremely positive. He noted that within a half hour of the message from the Ministry of Public Security being received, the Chief Officer of the Dublin brigade, Major Comerford, “was addressing the Dublin firemen gathered from all stations at a meeting in Tara Street station.”

The first engine on the road to Belfast came from Dorset Street station, which was under Station Officer Edward Blake and 3rd Officer Richard Gorman. The Dublin Fire Brigade had first been contacted at 5.10am by the Ministry of Public Security, and by 7.30am three pumps with crews had already left the city. District Officer Rodgers noted that “Balbriggan, Drogheda and Dundalk slept peacefully as we sped northwards” and the men were greeted by customs officers on the border who waved them onwards.

Las Fallon collection. A war time Dublin fire engine.

The men were warmly welcomed to the city, with the Irish Independent of April 18th noting that “the fire brigades which attended from Éire have been greatly praised for their work, and as they passed through the city’s streets homeward bound after their errand of mercy they were heartily cheered by a grateful people.”

The first men from the Dublin Fire Brigade had arrived in the city just before 10am, and the first engines departed the city before nightfall. While in Belfast, they had been exposed to a situation alien to Dubliners. District Officer Rodgers recalled hearing an air raid siren during the course of the day, and recalled that “I will never forget that wailing sound. From the roof top where I was standing the city looked so scarred and vulnerable.”

In the South, The Irish Times editorial of the following day noted that “Yesterday for once the people of Ireland were united under the shadow of a national blow. Has it taken bursting bombs to remind the people of this little country that they have a common tradition, a common genius and a common home?” The Sunday Independent recorded on April 20th that Belfast was still burying her dead, and that praise for the southern fire brigades was unstinted in all corners of Belfast.

Men from the Irish capital would return to Belfast on May 5th, with even more men making the journey across the border. That time, 6 pumps and an ambulance from the capital would be among the southern appliances to cross the border. This assistance was not forgotten by the Belfast Fire Brigade, and when bombs rained down on Dublin itself in late May, it was reported by the Irish Independent that Belfast Fire Brigade approached Dublin to offer assistance if required. The Dublin Fire Brigade responded and thanked the Northern Irish firefighters for their kind offer.

Interestingly, for many years following the events, southern and northern Irish firefighters would take each other on in a friendly challenge match. Below is the cover for the programme for the June 1945 encounter at Tolka Park.

Las Fallon collection. Match programme.

Two new Storymap tales.

Here’s two new stories recorded by the lads behind Storymap, uploaded since my 3 minutes and 25 seconds of fame recently talking about Vonolel the war horse. A labour of love, Storymap has been documenting great Dublin tales from all corners of Dublin and both sides of the river.

Firstly, Liz Gillis, author of the recent excellent study of the Civil War in Dublin entitled ‘The Fall of Dublin’ with Mercier Press. Liz talks about Conn Colbert and Watkin’s Brewery during the Easter insurrection in 1916.

This weeks story features actor Val O’Donnell, as tells a great tale about ‘Myles na gCopaleen’ and his campaign over Andy Clarkin’s clock in the 1950’s.

Recently, and completely by accident, I stumbled across newspaper reports of the ‘opening’ of Dublin’s first escalator. It all struck me as a little bit Father Ted, with the Lord Mayor of Dublin on hand for proceedings. He then had the honour of being the first person in Dublin, and indeed the nation, to use an escalator.

Fine Gael politician James Joseph O’Keefe was the Lord Mayor of Dublin from 1962-1963, and then again from 1974-1975. On Monday, March 25th 1963 he found himself in Roches Stores on Henry Street to “inaugurate” over the unveiling of the first escalator in Dublin, at an event which made the front page of The Irish Times the following day.

The escalator extended from the basement to the ground floor and from there to the first floor, and the opening coincided with the Roche’s Stores Fashion Show. The Irish Independent ran the image below, which shows the Lord Mayor cutting the ribbon to proclaim the escalators ‘open’. The design of the escalators was carried out by Clifford,Smith and Newman of Limerick.

The Irish Independent, March 26th 1963

Patrick Lagan wrote lightheartedly of the event in The Irish Press the week after the escalator was deemed open, writing that he had always enjoyed the “uplifting experience” of hopping on an escalator in a London tube station, and that he felt they were built not only to be useful but indeed enjoyed.

Lagan went on to note that:

On Monday last the Lord Mayor of Dublin , Alderman J.J O’ Keefe was,as was only right, the first man to make the ascent. But he won’t be the last. Let me thank the people who run that big store for making it possible for myself and others to enjoy this purest of human pleasures without the trouble of having to go as far as Euston Station.

Scanning classic advertisements is one of my favourite aspects of the blog without a doubt, and sometimes a gem like this falls my way. These advertisements are taken from ‘The Illustrated Book of the Military Tattoo and Exhibition, Dublin 1945’.

The huge event ran from August 28th to September 8th 1945 at the RDS Ballsbridge. It’s cover alone is striking and scanned below, but some of the advertisements inside are excellent. There’s more than this to come. Below are advertisements for Brown Thomas, the Eden Quay amusements, Aero and Rolo chocolates and the Irish Independent.

The cover was designed by Jack Mac Manus.

“In this design the artist expresses the spiritual link binding the Defence Forces of today- the Air Corps, Army, Marine Corps and Local Defence Forces, represented in the bold figures in the foreground- and the Irish armies of the past, symbolised by the ghostly figure of Eoin Ruadh O’Neill, dominating the entire background.”

Eden Quay Amusements.

What a wonderful ad, signed by ‘MB’. Anyone know more on the artist?

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Where Were You?, the magnificent 304 full colour photo book on Dublin’s youth culture and street fashion published late last year, will be back in the shops on Thursday, April 12.

The first run sold out within weeks, so you’re advised to pre-order with Garry on the website here.

In the latest issue of History Ireland, Cllr. Cieran Perry wrote a fantastic review of the book which touched on issues of class and racism in Dublin’s 1970s punk and skinhead scenes.

Last October, I had the opportunity to interview the book’s editor Garry O’Neill which resulted in articles in Rabble (Issue 2) and Look Left (Vol. 2, No.8).

I wanted to mark the fact International Women’s Day falls this week with a feature looking at a publication which was banned by the state and a situation which led a group of 20 young women to board a train at Connolly Station one morning in 1977 to acquire copies. There’s a lot more to be written on this I’m sure, but this is a modest effort to tell the story of Spare Rib for the week that is in it.

Spare Rib was a second-wave British feminist publication set up in 1972, to provide a feminist alternative to commercial women’s magazines. It was very much a publication of the left, for example often writing critically of Britain’s role in Ireland, along with giving coverage to labour disputes. The excellent study Women and Journalism notes that W.H Smith refused to stock the first issue of the magazine, which contained such shocking content as a feature on skin care and an interview with George Best! It also included articles on sex, gender equality and women’s role in history.

Quite unsurprisingly, the publication was banned in Ireland. In February of 1977 following a complaint to the Censorship of Publications Board, it was decided that the magazine was unfit for the eyes of the Irish public. A statement from the Board noted that having examined recent issues of the British magazine, the magazine was found to have been “usually or infrequently indecent or obscene, and that for that reason the sale or distribution in the state of the said issues or future issues of the said periodical publication should be prohibited.”

Immediately following the banning of Spare Rib, there began a strong feminist campaign to overturn the ban. Ironically, while the magazine had enjoyed miniscule readership in Ireland prior to the banning, the debate over the decision of the Censorship of Publications Board saw Spare Rib make its way into the letters pages of the national print media.

The secretary of Irishwomen United, an outspoken feminist organisation, would write to the editors of the national daily papers on February 11 1977 stating that “we see the censorship of Spare Rib as a direct attack of feminism and the women’s movement.” Nell McCafferty would describe the organisation in a 1979 feature for the Irish Times as being “composed, significantly, of trade unionists, professional women and the unemployed, who had scarcely heard of motherhood.”

Like large sections of the British left at the time, the people behind Spare Rib weren’t entirely sure how to deal with matters relating to the island next door. Rose Ades, one of the women on the collective behind the publication, remarked that they did not wish to be seen to be imposing any sort of “British cultural imperialism” and that “we don’t want to be thought of as foisting something essentially alien on Irish people if they don’t want it.”

Yet Irish feminists did want it. Enough to fight for it. Three days after the letter from Irishwomen United appeared in the national daily papers, on Valentines Day, 20 members of the feminist organisation boarded the 8am shoppers special train for Belfast with the intention of returning with 150 copies of the publication. As Nell McCafferty wrote in the pages of the Irish Times:

The publishers of the magazine had donated the copies free and sent them over to Belfast as a contribution to the women’s’ struggle in the south. The women intended to return to Dublin on the 5.30pm train, depending of course on what happened to the banned magazine during Customs Inspection in Dundalk.

The women managed to bring the publication into the south with no opposition from Customs in Dundalk, and arrived at Connolly station as planned that night, where the assembled media awaited the inevitable showdown with the Guardians of the Peace. In the end three Gardaí approached the women, attempted to apprehend one, failed, and not a single copy of the publication was seized by the state.

Two weeks later, on February 28th, the organisation would challenge the law banning the publication by openly selling it on the streets of Dublin. A packed protest meeting at the Mansion House saw speakers denounce the ban, and three women told Gardaí formally that they intended to sell the publication there and then to all interested. They were Marie McMahon and Joanne O’Brien of Irishwomen United and Sue Burns of the Irish Family Planning Service. No attempt was made to stop them. Interestingly, Marie McMahon had been involved in the Hume Street occupation and the Irish Civil Rights Association.

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