DreamLine

Feb 27, 2023

Well-known for his Atlantic rainforest project in West Cork, Eoghan Daltun also works in sculpture conservation Seamus Murphy's 'Dreamline' sculpture after being restored by Eoghan Daltun. (Daltun picture: Don MacMonagle) Mon, 27 Feb, 2023 - 20:30 Eoghan Daltun      In late 2022 I was contacted by Dan Breen of the Cork Public Museum with regard to a sculpture by Seamus Murphy that that has been on display in Fitzgerald Park since 1977, over 45 years. Being a great aficionado of Murphy’s work, I was already familiar with the piece, titled ‘Dreamline’, from photographs. Sculpted in 1934, it seemingly lay in the artist’s studio before being installed in the park over four decades later. A carving of sublime beauty, it depicts a woman’s head fully shrouded in robes but for the face, which is looking downwards with a dreamy expression, her eyes closed. Unfortunately however, the piece had been created from relatively soft Portland limestone, a material that is not suitable for an outdoor placement, at least not in Ireland, as our weather can have a rapidly detrimental effect on the stone surface. And indeed when I subsequently made an inspection, I found Dreamline to be entirely covered in lichens, mosses and algae in a mish-mash of colours, making it quite hard to properly and satisfactorily read or enjoy the highly expressive nature of the 74cm high piece. In addition, some surface areas of the sculpture were showing signs of losing integrity, and were at risk of detaching. The ‘Dreamline’ sculpture before restoration. Dan told me that the sculptor’s family, who are still largely based in Cork, had for quite some time been requesting that the piece be brought indoors, where it would be safe from the elements, and restored to its former glory. With that in mind, myself and Billy Leen, a highly experienced stonemason based in Kerry, came to the park in late December to lift the sculpture off its roughly hewn stone base, and bring it into the nearby museum. Specialised equipment was necessary for this operation, which was undertaken with great care throughout. Once safely inside in a museum storeroom, ‘Dreamline’ was wrapped in protective foam padding and left until the New Year, when I returned to carry out restoration works. After reattaching a couple of small fragments that lad come loose, I set about cleaning the piece. Using proprietary products specifically for conservation purposes, it took a few days to remove all of the organic growth covering the sculpture’s surface. In particular, the black mycelia (roots) of some of the lichens proved very stubborn, but with patient effort they came away in the end. Underneath that layer were a couple of other issues that needed resolving, namely numerous spatters of very hard cement, which had likely been flicked up during the installation process back in 1977. I also discovered that multiple repairs to the rear of ‘Dreamline’ had been previously carried out, with missing material filled with a white resin, which was also widely smeared across the surface in a very badly executed ‘restoration’. Having removed the cement spatters with a fine letter-cutting hammer and chisel, along with a surgical scalpel, it was decided that attempting to dig out all of the resin from the relatively friable stone surface to the rear of the piece risked causing further damage to the surrounding original Portland limestone, and these were, for the moment, left in situ. I did, however, apply a pigmented wash to these sections to help camouflage the old resin repairs. Unveiling of Seamus Murphy sculpture, 'Dreamline', by Cork Lord Mayor Gerald Goldberg at Fitzgerald Park, Cork, in 1977. Picture: Irish Examiner Archive As well as ‘Dreamline’, while in the museum I also had the opportunity to restore three other works by Murphy: all large relief panels depicting the seasons ‘Spring’, ‘Summer’ and ‘Autumn’, again carved from Portland limestone and previously on public display in Fitzgerald Park. Sadly the fourth panel, ‘Winter’, was apparently broken before being installed in the park, and the pieces subsequently lost. Though these three pieces required less work, with only a light cleaning necessary, black paint that had been dribbled across the surface in places did prove very tough to remove. A wonderful surprise for me while there in the museum was a visit from the artist’s son, Colm Murphy, who came in to see the work I was doing. The long and pleasant chat we had about his father and a host other things gave me much insight and perspective into the man, his life, and the Cork and Ireland of the past. As a sculpture conservator, I get the opportunity to work on a great variety of different types of artwork. For example, the previous restoration job to this one was the McGrath Table Tomb in St Carthage’s Cathedral, Lismore, Co Waterford. Dating back to 1543, the tomb is entirely covered in elaborate carving, and is an important part of our artistic and cultural national heritage. The very same is no less true of Seamus Murphy’s ‘Dreamline’. The artist is held by many, myself included, to have probably been the most important Irish sculptor of the 20th century. Anyone interested in knowing more of Murphy’s fine work would do very well to pick of a copy of the lovely tome Seamus Murphy (1907-1975) Sculptor (published 1986). All four sculptures by Seamus Murphy will go on open display in the Cork Public Museum, their restoration funded by the Parks Department/Cork City Council. I’d highly recommend a visit to this fascinating place. Born in Dublin and currently based near Eyeries in West Cork, Eoghan Daltun is a sculpture conservator. He also runs a farm and rewilding project, and recently published a book, An Irish Atlantic Rainforest, A Personal Journey into the Magic of Rewilding A file picture from 2007 of Seamus Murphy's son and daughters with the 'Dreamline' sculpture: Colm, Orla and Bebhinn. Picture: Richard Mills Stone Mad: Cork's stonecarver extraordinaire Seamus Murphy was born in Greenhill near Mallow in 1907. His family were far from well off, and he served seven years as an apprentice monumental stonecarver in Cork in the 1920s. He described this time in his fabulous book, Stone Mad, published in 1966. A classic of modern Irish literature, it is filled with colourful characters like ‘the Gargoyle’ and their antics, and depicts a world that was coming to an end as cast concrete began to out-compete architectural carving in stone. Some years after his apprenticeship ended, in 1932 Murphy went to Paris for a year to further his studies in what was the most febrile artistic environment of the time. Living on next to nothing, in the winter he and the artist with whom he shared an apartment were forced to stay in bed to keep warm, while eating only boiled potatoes. In Paris, Murphy was exposed to the most avant-garde artistic movements of the day, which radicalised his style significantly. Returning to the Ireland of the 1930s, the sculptor could scarcely have been working in a time or place less receptive to modern ideas around art, or much else for that matter. The Church ruled the new state, and anything that was perceived as at odds with the staid fundamentalism that reigned was scorned or suppressed. At one time, the Catholic Archbishop of Dublin and Primate of Ireland, John Charles McQuaid, had a missive sent to churches throughout the country instructing them not to buy any of Murphy’s work. Given that the vast majority of sculpture commissioned at the time was ecclesiastical in nature, this clearly must have created great difficulties in making a living for the sculptor and his family. Making headstones for the deceased was therefore a large part of his livelihood, and these are genuine works of art in their own right. As a result, Murphy, who passed away in 1975, spent most of his working life barely scraping by, without receiving the proper recognition that was due to him. Thankfully, in more recent times, Murphy has been rightly understood and appreciated as an artist of immense stature. Read More