Shorelines Arts Festival - a Celebration of the Arts

 We must create to know who we can be.

~ Stephen James Smith

One of the symbols offered by the community at Mass on Sunday. The art of the farmer.

Portumna is a special place. A smallish town in County Galway* on the north shore of Lough Derg it is a perfect spot for a holiday as Portumna boasts a marina, a castle, a workhouse museum, a forest park, a camper park, and so much more.** It is also a town reveling in the arts all year round from the Photography Club to the Pen Pushers to the local drama group and the Omna Singers (and more). Portumna celebrates the arts. And for 11 years this market town has been extending an invitation to a feast in mid-September - the Shorelines Arts Festival.***

Venues were full, but still provided an intimate experience.

September - when parents, teachers, and students are all busily starting the new academic year - might seem a strange time to hold an arts festival, but here the schools and students are an integral part of the festival activities. Poets, writers, musicians, and other artists hold workshops in the classrooms - encouraging a new generation of artists and providing guidance and opportunity for self-expression beyond everyday schoolwork.****

Imagine the excitement of a child recognizing his or her handwriting on display to all. [This is one of three groups of poetry posted near the town square.]

Shorelines is drama, dance, music, photography, sculpture, painting, ceramics, film, audio, the written and spoken word. It is impossible to describe the experience of these few days (for visitors) and year(s) (for the planners) in one paragraph. The weekend's events are still swirling in my head. The festival was packed with so much to do and see and we only sampled a small number of the offerings. But let me share here a few moments of the feast - a glimpse of the fun.

Looking West,  a painting by Sallyann Beirne, one of many extraordinary visual artists represented in the gallery at the Workhouse. Sallyann is a Portumna native who has a studio not too far from her hometown.

One theme ran throughout - a sense of community. Members of the community planned this wonderful weekend. They sponsored individual events. They showed up to volunteer. They filled the audience at every event. They supported the artists and each other. They welcomed the stranger into their community for this celebration of the arts.

Opening Ceremony:

We started at the Irish Workhouse Centre, a somber group of buildings where echos of the past haunt the halls. But the ghosts, if any, were banished for the evening as children from the Sarah Killeen School of Dance entertained in the courtyard, the Omna Singers (a community chorus) sang a number of familiar tunes a cappella, and Niall Teague and the Fast Company also performed.

Many of us thought this "warm-up" of the Omna Singers (put through their paces by their retiring director, Marie Power) was the performance.

But they "wowed" us again from the stage.

Students from the Sarah Killeen School of Dance.

The specters may have taken shelter in the one large room housing "Dark Shadows," an exhibit of the bog oak***** sculptures of Kieran Tuohy on the subject of the great hunger.  I returned later in the weekend and had the room to myself.  It was almost too quiet, but perhaps the perfect way to spend time with each piece.

Dark Shadows Exhibition - works by Kieran Tuohy

I enlarged this shot so you could see the "ballast" was people.****** Each work in this exhibit was heart-wrenching. Do check this exhibit online (link below). Tuohy's work is haunting.

Friday:

Our day was taken up with visiting sites around town including the castle and gardens before we headed to the Town Hall for From Under the Bed, a play written by Seamus O’Rourke with O'Rourke and Arthur Riordan playing two bachelor brothers. The play captured the poignance and humor in their relationship.

The bedroom - where all the action happens - in From Under the Bed.

After the play we found poetry and music at O'Meara's Pub with Stephen James Smith and Padraig Jack. Taking turns, Smith and Jack offered songs and poetry for almost two hours. Smith shared moments of his workshop with the school children earlier in the day emphasizing his suggestion they write about "place." Jack sang both in English and Irish often accompanied by Smith on the bodhrán. It was a thought-provoking and intimate evening as each artist shared insights into his work as well as appreciation for the work of the other.

Jack and Smith at O'Meara's

Smith speaking of his work and a coming tour.

Saturday:

So much was happening on Saturday. There was the street circus in the square, a heritage walk around town, an audio installation (or three, including Rear Mirror, in collaboration with the Hearsay Audio Festival). The final event of the day was a marvelous concert in Christchurch - Eddi Reader (what a brilliant voice) and John Douglas performed with the Alan Kelly Gang.

The Heritage Walk with John Joe Conwell. Also pictured is a couple from Holland we greeted again and again with "Holland in the house."

The street circus delighted.

We found the car for Rear Mirror and got in with a couple of young women from Germany (we would run into them again and again throughout the festival).

Rear Mirror was an odd and interesting experience. At one point I could almost believe we were in a boat moving along with each stroke of the oars heard on the audio. A mixture of sounds seemed to impart a message of our need to connect with others in a deeper way - a problem caused by the distraction of electronic devices and our tendency to take life and people at face value. [The entire event occurred inside of a red Volkswagen "bug." You knew you were in the right place because of the bright flowers painted on the door.]

At the end of the day we queued to see Eddi Reader and John Douglas performing with the Alan Kelly Gang. We were late to the queue, but found perfect seats in the aisle.

Now, I did follow directions and put my phone away for the entire concert - just snapped this shot at the final applause. Christchurch was a lovely venue - every seat a good one - perfect acoustics.

 

Sunday:

A special mass was held at St. Brigid's Church with the group Lady Barbalade performing Pie Jesu, Panis Angelicus and ending with Down to the River to Pray. It was a packed house and an emotional hour as we began the service with community members bringing symbols of the art of the community to the altar. [It was one of those times when arriving early for church paid off. The warm-up of the music in the perfect acoustics of the sanctuary was an unexpected treat.]

Warming up

St. Brigid's eventually filled up for Mass. I was a little early.

Symbols of the art of the community.

Sunday evening brought music with the Irish Guitar Quartet - an unusual, amusing, and spirited performance. We were surprised to hear one member was unable to attend and the young replacement had only a week's preparation for the concert.

I ran into three members of the quartet - David Keating, Fiona Falvey, and Jerry Creedon - in the square. They agreed to a photo followed by a chat about the concert. I had a few questions for them and they wanted to know what I thought of their performance - did I hear what I had expected.  I had to admit I did not know what to expect, but thoroughly enjoyed myself. I loved the variety of the works performed. One piece especially fascinated me - the imitation of a storm - starting and ending with raindrops falling.

The final performance of the festival was Small Holes and Potholes with Little John Nee at the Town Hall.  Nee began by warning us that the performance was going to be "strange." Maybe he said, "weird."  It was strange and weird and wonderful. A storyteller extraordinaire, Nee had the audience in the palm of his hand. Performing on some 8+ instruments (guitar, sitar, banjo, ukulele, and other things I did not exactly recognize), Nee took us on vacation to Donegal and on a poignant walk with his grandfather. Yes, it was a funny, sad, strange and entertaining experience.

After the performance I met Mr. Nee - a giant presence on stage, but actually about my height when face-to-face. As we spoke he asked me if I was a poet. While admitting that I am no poet ("I'm a bad potter," I replied) I realized his question echoed Stephen James Smith's message (and that of the entire festival) - "We must create to know who we can be."

Other photos (needing a home):

Throughout the festival, Tommy Craggs carved this Bench of Reflection on the grounds of St. Brigid's Church.

Tommy Craggs

Part of The Irish Workhouse Centre - aglow.

One of the audiences

Part of the crowd at the opening.

Postscript - The Volunteers

The willing hands of the volunteers could be seen and felt everywhere. Noelle, the chairman of the festival committee, walked up to me in the gallery on opening night and extended her hand in welcome. "Are you one of the artists?" I asked. "No, I'm on the committee," she replied. But she and everyone else on the committee, all the sponsors, and the other volunteers are artists.  Shorelines is itself a magnificent work of art. Throughout the festival they were everywhere helping to bring this work to completion.

Here are a few of the hands of these artists:

On the historical tour

Change of shift at the Rear Mirror (there was much good-natured teasing about age and technology during this changing of the guard)

If you didn't purchase tickets ahead (a mistake in some cases as many events sold out) a volunteer was at the ready at "The Hub" ticket office to get you sorted out.

One volunteer comes from across Europe to volunteer as the "official photographer" for the festival (obviously not me).

Volunteers took tickets, worked the sound systems, and were always at hand to take care of any extraneous issue.

We ran into volunteers everywhere and they always wanted to know how we found ourselves in Portumna. We booked our room in April without knowing what the festival would bring. We came "on faith." We could not have imagined.

Checking the list. Even when there were long lines (and there were) and sold out venues we noted friends and neighbors sharing extra tickets (no scalping here). I doubt anyone was turned away.

Hands that welcomed introduced the final event of the festival.

NOTES:

*On the border with County Tipperary.

**Good restaurants, a favorite B&B, an equestrian center, a swing bridge (it's one of the 35 some-odd places you can cross the Shannon), lovely lovely people, lively pubs, and lovely shops (buttons! The dry goods store had buttons!).

***Shorelines: https://www.shorelinesartsfestival.com/committees-welcome.html and https://www.facebook.com/shorelinesartsfestival/

****Certainly beyond what we now see in pubic schools in our home state of Texas where the arts in schools seem to be under attack.

*****https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bog-wood

******https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hannah_(1849_shipwreck)


More information on the artists/performers mentioned herein and more:

Sarah Killeen School of Dance - https://www.facebook.com/sarahkilleenschoolofdance/

Omna Singers - https://www.facebook.com/Omna-Singers-194243080593289/

Niall Teague and the Fast Company - https://www.facebook.com/niallteagueandthefastcompany/

Kieran Tuohy - http://www.kierantuohy.com/gallery/famine/dark-shadows/

Stephen James Smith -  https://www.stephenjamessmith.com/
https://www.rte.ie/culture/2017/1204/924917-poem-of-the-week-dead-mans-shirt-by-stephen-james-smith/

Padraig Jack - https://www.padraigjack.com/

Lady Barbalade - https://www.facebook.com/pg/LadyBarbalade/videos/?ref=page_internal

Tommy Craggs - https://www.facebook.com/treesculpting/

Eddi Reader - http://eddireader.co.uk/

Alan Kelley Gang - http://alankellygang.ie/

Irish Guitar Quartet - http://www.irishguitarquartet.com/

Little John Nee -  https://www.littlejohnnee.com/

Sallyann Beirne - https://www.facebook.com/pages/category/Artist/Sallyann-Beirne-Artist-1458999891008076/

The Irish Workhouse Centre - http://irishworkhousecentre.ie/

[Other artists mentioned in the Shorelines program can also be found online]


FINAL NOTE:

Over and over we were asked how we came to Portumna. A better question would be - How could we not come to Portumna (and Shorelines)? And "bad pennies" that we are, somehow I think we will be back.