Story telling by a warm, turf burning, open hearth sets the scene of the tradition of old Ireland. Traditions change however, and as wholesome and as cherished a national delight as open turf fires are, they will have to go sooner rather than later. It’s not just the heart of the home changing though, Foxford Woollen Mill blankets and hot water bottles are hardly a standard of living to treasure in a bedroom of a severe winter. With whoever forms the next government, Green Party or no Green Party, looking to build the increasingly fashionable ‘green economy,’ sustainable and ecological considered design will be the means to achieve that.
The Fianna Fail led Government, with significant influence from their junior partners, had begun a process of making grants available to homeowners with a view to retrofitting houses to reduce domestic energy consumption. Creating jobs through new technologies seems a common trend of all elections these days, it was among Barack Obama’s promises in 2008 and our own political parties have followed suit in the current campaign (the less said about Enda Kenny’s attempt to reproduce Obama’s iconic ‘Hope’ image the better however). Taking Fine Gael and Labour’s promises at face value, it’s safe to assume that the new government will move forward with a similar strategy of retrofitting homes to lower their energy consumption rates. It is a dependable means to stem the decimation of construction sector employment, and inevitably create jobs for there are almost none left in that industry. The only hope is that their rhetoric extends to other sectors and creates a meaningful increase in employment, though that’s another debate entirely.
Since the downturn struck in 2008, much has been speculated on Ireland’s means to re-establish itself as a stable economy with the ‘green revolution’ and Ireland’s abundance of renewable energy leading the way in talk, if less so in action. With no oil and minimal reserves of gas (that we gave away anyway) Ireland missed out on the Industrial Revolution and all the prosperity that came with it. However, with the ‘green revolution’ still somewhat in its infancy, Ireland’s abundance of natural resources of wind and tidal energy positions us well to take advantage (assuming no strange paradox emerges wherein we again doom ourselves to unsustainable practice in the pursuit of these sustainable energies).
Few opportunities to engage in sustainable building approaches were taken during the building boom, with most realised ecologically considered designs limited to a small number of specialist practices. There were moments however; Frank Cooney was the project architect for the Green Building in Temple Bar as far back as 1991 at a time when interest in theories to do with global warming and climate change were largely the reserve of kids watching Captain Planet and smelly students called Swampy living in forests where roads were due to cut through.
The Green Party’s influence in government means newly built homes will now have to meet very high standards of sustainability and energy efficiency, and new regulations due out in 2011 will set high targets for energy efficient new buildings. The unfortunate reality of the boom however, is that there are already too many new houses, thus the challenge for the incoming government will be to continue the process of retrofitting Irish homes by maintaining the grant scheme for improving energy efficiency in households.
Frank Cooney is a member of the (Royal Institute of Architects of Ireland) RIAI‘s Sustainability Task Force and has recently completed such retrofitting with the radical transformation of a derelict 19th century farmhouse outside of Kingscourt in County Cavan to the industry’s ‘Passivhaus’ standard. He describes the process by which one could go about retrofitting of an existing dwelling, starting with the cheapest, simple measures through to the more expensive and more severe undertakings.
“The passive techniques will be the cheapest, whereby the envelope of a building is optimised so as not to waste energy. The primary and easiest way to go about making your home more energy efficient for less money is, simply put, to wrap it up warm,” he said. Many Irish houses are poorly insulated, particularly those in city and town centres which, because of their age, will have none at all. The obvious approach here is to dry line the house by fixing insulation to the inside wall, “ the best solution however is to actually fit the insulation externally so that the wall serves as a thermal mass, storing heat for the slow release of heat inside.”
Orientation and cold bridging are critical considerations with new builds, though difficult to fix once a building is complete. Replacing windows is an option however, moving from double to triple glazing, and for those in homes of an historical quality, modern sash windows can be built to better energy efficient standards, so compromises do not have to be made.
The last, and among the easier to achieve, of the passive techniques he mentions is to improve air-tightness. It probably seems obvious; if there’s a draft it will be cold. Taking the principle to a more advanced level by sealing all joints with “specifically designed membranes and adhesive tape will dramatically reduce air-leakage and in so doing further reduce air leakage and the associated heat loss.”
The passive techniques will deal with conserving energy, the focus for a home then will concern how that energy is produced. Heat recovery ventilation can be used to promote air circulation in a now air-tight house, solar panels could be used to heat the water (yes, even in Ireland) and wood chip burners could be used to heat the whole house. The latter will likely be the focal point around which the change comes to Irish homes, no longer the traditional open hearth for chimneys, in the conventional sense, are the chief offenders when it comes to wasting energy in homes. Among the more expensive (but efficient) options in retrofitting, is to remove the fireplace and chimney altogether, and to replace it with a much more efficient balanced flue.
These alterations will improve your home and see it achieve an improved energy rating; however, the policy, despite worthy intention, somewhat misses the point. Newly built homes in Ireland are put through a computer program called DEAP, from which its BER (Building Energy Rating) is arrived at. Frank Cooney’s house in Cavan has an A2 rating, whereas a Victorian stone-built terraced house in Dublin with no insulation is likely to achieve a lowly F or G rating. The curious thing about the DEAP assessment is that it does not take into account the embodied energy of materials, how occupants get are transported to their house or water conservation.
Under the current policy, it doesn’t matter if timber used in construction comes from unsustainable rainforests in Indonesia or an occupant has to drive ten-miles to get to and from their home every day. A Victorian house in south-county Dublin will have less embodied energy due to its proximity to Dart or Luas lines than a rural farmhouse in Cavan which requires cars for transport for example, but this is not considered in DEAP calculations either. These are quite bizarre shortcomings in what is an otherwise worthwhile policy.
The complete lack of intent in regard to water harvesting is most conspicuously odd in its absence considering our abundance of it and the impending introduction of water rates. It is our single most plentiful resource; it seems absolute folly not to take advantage of it.
Whether Ireland could ever be the world leader it aspires to be remains to be seen, but the inevitable inescapable changes are coming. On the Aran Islands a series of electric cars are currently being piloted with a vision towards making the islands completely carbon free – that will mean laying aside the open fire tradition too because burning turf in a conventional hearth is simply not sustainable and domestic turf cutting is legally due to cease in 2012 anyway.
What industry professionals term ‘cold bridging’ is the critical element to avoid in contemporary building design. This is the potential location in the building envelope where insulation does not enclose it, and allows warmth to escape through the building fabric. Chimneys are the chief offender in this regard, and that is why a cherished custom will now have to at least change. The open fire doesn’t necessarily have to go, but chimneys in the familiar sense are falling out of favour. Now, Irish families will sit around a wood burning stove with a balanced flue in highly efficient, potentially carbon-free homes – it seems a much more polished, cleaner vision than the cosy tradition that will not be lost, but rather re-imagined for another generation.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Sign of the Time
On Westmoreland Street in Dublin over the course of a day hundreds of people will pass by, the vast bulk of which paying attention to their own lives and little else of the world around them. Some however will be looking around wondering how to either improve their environment or at least maintain it. In this case the built urban environment and how to go about preserving the character of their historic city because if they don’t do it no one will.
Westmoreland Street and its surrounding area just south of O’Connell Bridge in Dublin has come to the attention of the National Heritage Trust, an Taisce, earlier this week for the dearth of “cheap garish signage” and “lower-order shops” that it now comprises. Their concern is that Dublin’s civic and architectural historic core has become a swamped by tasteless and ill considered clutter as a result of the City Council’s failure to bring enforcement to breaches of planning laws.
As such, they have lodged a complaint with the city authorities in which they lay the blame for the decline and “reckless neglect” of the capital’s urban heritage firmly with the Council and expect them to bring enforcement to those in breach of planning permission. Unauthorised shop-fronts and signage, particularly of the temporary, plastic variety, are the foundation on which their complaints are made, with some business having been permitted to operate for without planning permission for several years. “Low-order shops” compete with each other for attention and complete a street frontage made up of otherwise dead frontage. They say this is a city-wide problem, which’s true, but it tends to be somewhat more acceptable in some parts than it is in others.
An Taisce have been in existence for over 60years as the National Trust for Ireland. In their role as impartial monitor, it is their quest to uphold (and not create as their President, Eanna ni Lamhna, was quick to point out) planning policy in the country. In that time they have consistently sought to realise their role in society, much to the antipathy of many with particular vested interests prior to 2008. Almost as often as An Taisce are found to be complaining over a planning issue, individuals are found to be complaining about An Taisce with the Healy Rae family in Kerry among their more pronounced detractors; “Why must An Taisce stick their noses?”
In medieval times, bloodstained bandages were wrapped around a pole and placed outside barber shops. Back then barbers were the contemporary surgeons and even dentists – the bloodstained pole outside indicated the function of that which went on inside. There’s no chance An Taisce would ever approve of such practice today on a hygiene basis alone, but in the timeless tradition of form following function there was a reasonably sound argument for it. Could it, perhaps, be argued that the ‘cheap garish’ nature of the signage goes some way to describing the function of what goes on in the fast-food outlets of Westmoreland Street? And at least their ‘low-order’ shops bring an activity to the street in contrast to their dead-fronted neighbours such as at Bewleys which closed in 2004 and wasn’t replaced by another tenant.
It comes down to taste of course. There was also reported in the Irish Times last week that a drive-thru McDonalds had been refused planning permission in Sandymount, Dublin 4. The McDonalds restaurant was originally objected to on health of local children in nearby primary schools who promote healthy eating policies, with the initial refusal ultimately on the basis that the proposal would run contrary to the proper planning and sustainable development of the area. Suspicious minds may also be quick to wonder whether garishness so often associated with the golden arches would just be too out of character with the leafy suburb. An Taisce seemed to steer clear of this of this particular planning matter, where in many other similar circumstance they would be quick to send a letter of protest.
In that same report they issued concern over Parlament Street as well. They (along with many others) have in the past raised concern over O’Connell Street. In this instance though, the focus was just south of the Liffey where they say the law is being broken. Supermac’s had been refused permission for certain signage and alterations made to the shopfront in October 2009 and Charlie’s 3 Chinese takeaway, had been refused permission for its shopfront and to operate as a fast-food restaurant in 2005, but strangely has remained open.
According to Supermac’s Managing director, Pat McDonagh, the signs referred to by An Taisce were temporary and Supermac’s was in the process of applying to the council for permanent projecting signs needed to attract customers. “An Taisce musn’t know there’s a recession – without these signs, which are less garish and more delicate than the flat signs, people could walk by and not even know we’re there,” he said.
There are many who question the necessity of an Taisce – largely those keen to build one-off homes in rural areas with spectacular opportunities to frame views with a bay window. Generally speaking, an Taisce are only ever heard of when they are objecting or complaining over some environmental matter. Chief among moans over An Taisce are found is that it really could be anybody (for a membership of €45) in any part of the country making the complaint and that that person may never have even been to where they are complaining about.
If An Taisce don’t monitor Ireland’s heritage however, who will? For the morally conscious and proud Irish, their existence has a sound rationale. The objections come as investors ask what merits their attention and what doesn’t.
Town Hall Square in Copenhagen is another capital with a rich heritage in its civic core – yet here, the historic architecture is adorned with neon advertising screens and bright (perhaps garish) lights. Piccadilly Square in London is similar albeit on a much larger scale to Supermacs and Charlie’s 3, yet their gaudy signs have become iconic. They are contained locations in the city centres. Edinburgh retains its historical town centre largely void of plastic temporary signage, but that seems as much a tourism strategy as a heritage one.
At home however, there is another relevant case study – on High Street in Kilkenny City, it’s primary thoroughfare, no plastic or temporary signage is permitted. The same policy is place for O’Connell Street in the capital, but in Kilkenny it seems to work, so much so that even the gaudy Euro 2 and Westmoreland Street offender Supermacs sit comfortably on the streetscape alongside more tasteful shop fronts.
For their part, Dublin City Council have said that the submission received from An Taisce “will be investigated and where appropriate enforcement will be taken,” and that they received just shy of 1,000 complaints last year, and investigated all of them. They didn’t specify how many of those complaints came from An Taisce.
Over the course of twenty-four hours on the historical core of south Dublin City, on Westmoreland Street there will pass by hundreds of people. There will be some, perhaps plain clothes an Taisce members looking up lamenting the indifference of fast food outlets to the importance of old buildings. There will be the rush hours when no one even notices the old buildings or savagery of their contemporary decoration. There will be the fast food outlet owners wondering how to better bring attention to their already ‘garish’ signage so that people will still know where to go for a ‘Snack box’ or a 3-in-1 in this recession, and then, at around about half-two in the morning, there will be glary eyed individuals stumbling from out from Fleet Street and Temple Bar and they’ll need the ‘garish’ signage so that they know where to go next.
Westmoreland Street and its surrounding area just south of O’Connell Bridge in Dublin has come to the attention of the National Heritage Trust, an Taisce, earlier this week for the dearth of “cheap garish signage” and “lower-order shops” that it now comprises. Their concern is that Dublin’s civic and architectural historic core has become a swamped by tasteless and ill considered clutter as a result of the City Council’s failure to bring enforcement to breaches of planning laws.
As such, they have lodged a complaint with the city authorities in which they lay the blame for the decline and “reckless neglect” of the capital’s urban heritage firmly with the Council and expect them to bring enforcement to those in breach of planning permission. Unauthorised shop-fronts and signage, particularly of the temporary, plastic variety, are the foundation on which their complaints are made, with some business having been permitted to operate for without planning permission for several years. “Low-order shops” compete with each other for attention and complete a street frontage made up of otherwise dead frontage. They say this is a city-wide problem, which’s true, but it tends to be somewhat more acceptable in some parts than it is in others.
An Taisce have been in existence for over 60years as the National Trust for Ireland. In their role as impartial monitor, it is their quest to uphold (and not create as their President, Eanna ni Lamhna, was quick to point out) planning policy in the country. In that time they have consistently sought to realise their role in society, much to the antipathy of many with particular vested interests prior to 2008. Almost as often as An Taisce are found to be complaining over a planning issue, individuals are found to be complaining about An Taisce with the Healy Rae family in Kerry among their more pronounced detractors; “Why must An Taisce stick their noses?”
In medieval times, bloodstained bandages were wrapped around a pole and placed outside barber shops. Back then barbers were the contemporary surgeons and even dentists – the bloodstained pole outside indicated the function of that which went on inside. There’s no chance An Taisce would ever approve of such practice today on a hygiene basis alone, but in the timeless tradition of form following function there was a reasonably sound argument for it. Could it, perhaps, be argued that the ‘cheap garish’ nature of the signage goes some way to describing the function of what goes on in the fast-food outlets of Westmoreland Street? And at least their ‘low-order’ shops bring an activity to the street in contrast to their dead-fronted neighbours such as at Bewleys which closed in 2004 and wasn’t replaced by another tenant.
It comes down to taste of course. There was also reported in the Irish Times last week that a drive-thru McDonalds had been refused planning permission in Sandymount, Dublin 4. The McDonalds restaurant was originally objected to on health of local children in nearby primary schools who promote healthy eating policies, with the initial refusal ultimately on the basis that the proposal would run contrary to the proper planning and sustainable development of the area. Suspicious minds may also be quick to wonder whether garishness so often associated with the golden arches would just be too out of character with the leafy suburb. An Taisce seemed to steer clear of this of this particular planning matter, where in many other similar circumstance they would be quick to send a letter of protest.
In that same report they issued concern over Parlament Street as well. They (along with many others) have in the past raised concern over O’Connell Street. In this instance though, the focus was just south of the Liffey where they say the law is being broken. Supermac’s had been refused permission for certain signage and alterations made to the shopfront in October 2009 and Charlie’s 3 Chinese takeaway, had been refused permission for its shopfront and to operate as a fast-food restaurant in 2005, but strangely has remained open.
According to Supermac’s Managing director, Pat McDonagh, the signs referred to by An Taisce were temporary and Supermac’s was in the process of applying to the council for permanent projecting signs needed to attract customers. “An Taisce musn’t know there’s a recession – without these signs, which are less garish and more delicate than the flat signs, people could walk by and not even know we’re there,” he said.
There are many who question the necessity of an Taisce – largely those keen to build one-off homes in rural areas with spectacular opportunities to frame views with a bay window. Generally speaking, an Taisce are only ever heard of when they are objecting or complaining over some environmental matter. Chief among moans over An Taisce are found is that it really could be anybody (for a membership of €45) in any part of the country making the complaint and that that person may never have even been to where they are complaining about.
If An Taisce don’t monitor Ireland’s heritage however, who will? For the morally conscious and proud Irish, their existence has a sound rationale. The objections come as investors ask what merits their attention and what doesn’t.
Town Hall Square in Copenhagen is another capital with a rich heritage in its civic core – yet here, the historic architecture is adorned with neon advertising screens and bright (perhaps garish) lights. Piccadilly Square in London is similar albeit on a much larger scale to Supermacs and Charlie’s 3, yet their gaudy signs have become iconic. They are contained locations in the city centres. Edinburgh retains its historical town centre largely void of plastic temporary signage, but that seems as much a tourism strategy as a heritage one.
At home however, there is another relevant case study – on High Street in Kilkenny City, it’s primary thoroughfare, no plastic or temporary signage is permitted. The same policy is place for O’Connell Street in the capital, but in Kilkenny it seems to work, so much so that even the gaudy Euro 2 and Westmoreland Street offender Supermacs sit comfortably on the streetscape alongside more tasteful shop fronts.
For their part, Dublin City Council have said that the submission received from An Taisce “will be investigated and where appropriate enforcement will be taken,” and that they received just shy of 1,000 complaints last year, and investigated all of them. They didn’t specify how many of those complaints came from An Taisce.
Over the course of twenty-four hours on the historical core of south Dublin City, on Westmoreland Street there will pass by hundreds of people. There will be some, perhaps plain clothes an Taisce members looking up lamenting the indifference of fast food outlets to the importance of old buildings. There will be the rush hours when no one even notices the old buildings or savagery of their contemporary decoration. There will be the fast food outlet owners wondering how to better bring attention to their already ‘garish’ signage so that people will still know where to go for a ‘Snack box’ or a 3-in-1 in this recession, and then, at around about half-two in the morning, there will be glary eyed individuals stumbling from out from Fleet Street and Temple Bar and they’ll need the ‘garish’ signage so that they know where to go next.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Creative Spaces
If you could catch Ireland or even just Dublin in a moment that tells you almost everything about the cultural, social, economical and physical state of the nation, you’d be doing well to fit it all into just one evening, or indeed a musician’s setlist. An abandoned retail unit built during the boom, the windows taped over with bin-liners, concrete blocks remain exposed, the ceiling unfinished still revealing the service ducts, improvise furniture from beer crates, plywood, and large industrial timber spools for tables dotted with the cheapest off-licence purchases, a few token Christmas decorations, €15 entry with all proceeds to the Simon Community, a more sparse crowd than perhaps otherwise expected because of the arctic weather grasping the country, a somewhat eclectic crowd none-the-less, a crowd of mostly unemployed twenty-somethings thus ‘Young Hearts Run Free,’ the appropriate title for the event, some dancing, some talking, all cheerful and a mesmeric guitarist from West Africa the final warm-up act before folk musician and former Planxty member Dónal Lunny begins.
The venue right on Smithfield Plaza in Dublin has been threatened with transfer to NAMA since February 2009, but in this abandoned retail unit and warehouse leftover from the Celtic Tiger, the Complex promotes innovations in art, theatre, comedy and music for all sections of the community. They describe the abandoned building-site nature of the venue as ‘site-specific’ with all furniture entirely movable – it fits with their ethos of ‘exploring current issues in society and in the local community,’ so in this industrial urban aesthetic there is a contemporary resonance. They run workshops and classes from which their creativity is sourced, incorporating gallery and rehearsal spaces, to produce entirely in-house shows, although they are not limited to that.
This is all part of a new trend that is emerging, not just in Smithfield, but throughout Dublin – that of re-using spaces that were either left behind and not developed during the building-boom, or using those that were developed but turned out to be surplus to requirements. Consider the urban gardens in Dolphin’s Barn, Clougher Road and Cherry Orchard, and in similar vein to the Complex, Block T in the Chinese Markets also in Smithfield. Put Block T together with the Complex, the Lighthouse Cinema, popular bars the Cobblestone and Dice and it seems the vision for Smithfield seems to finally be materialising as it heaves with anticipation on a cold Friday night.
In the past ten years, Smithfield has gone through a rigorous regeneration, with a programme of building work making it among the most densely designed projects in Dublin. There’s a brief glimpse in the Commitments in the 1980s which shows what it used to look like, the chimney doesn’t have the lift or viewing pod, and the new block is a dreary row of council housing, echoes of which remain on the northeast edge of the plaza. There was a vision brought together by a team of designers for a highly active civic space for markets and outdoor concerts, making Smithfield a cultural hive and an exciting new quarter for city. The vision didn’t materialise however, despite sporadic successes such as the traditional horse fair and the seasonal Christmas markets. The activity such a vast urban space required never came, the vacant shop fronts couldn’t even find tenants when things were good, now they stand as headstones for the Celtic Tiger.
But like Temple Bar in the eighties, it is the artisan ventures that seem to thrive in the bad times; economics’ crisis is imagination’s opportunity. Other workshops are dotted around the area setting up a vibrant network and with ease of access to the city centre attracting a culturally rich demographic to Smithfield, there’s a high number of foreign nationals, the traditional working class residents, young professionals and students bringing a attractive urban variety.
Before the West African guitarist began on Saturday night, the music was briefly interrupted to allow Dónal Lunny give an interview. The previously half-attentive crowd now all drew to the side stage, shuffling for space as they tried to catch a glimpse, and importantly some world weary counsel from the words he speaks. The almost shy interviewer breaks the ice, so to speak, by mentioning the unfortunate reason for the small turnout, but then Lunny starts to respond to real questions, he speaks fondly of a recent trip to the World Badhrán Championships in the midlands, he jokes over the west of Ireland being a bad place for badhráns because it’s too damp, and he speaks on technology in a way one may perhaps not expect... a man renown for tradition embraces contemporary technology, he says “it opens the door, there’s still some... iffy stuff, but there can be great music, great possibilities outside of the regular 9-5, watching the clock life...”
On the walk down, a Garda suggested that the fact patrons are permitted to bring their own alcohol is “entirely illegal... but what can you do...” Hard to say really whether he was being entirely genuine or otherwise, he was dealing with some young urban troublemakers in Super-Valu on North Kings Street at the time, so the Complex was of little concern save some polite Saturday night banter. Events like this and similar ones at nearby Block T in the Chinese markets usually get wound up around midnight, and the Gardaí don’t tend to be too slow in ensuring punters move on.
So as that hour approaches, Dónal Lunny looks toward closing his set with a song sung as gaeilge and something a little faster to leave the crowd wanting more. You wonder whether a larger, warmer, or dare one day it rural, crowd would be more inclined to dancing like those few to the side of the stage, but very few actually do despite their attentiveness. The soft ballad sang in Irish has a resonance with the warm-up act’s west African song, they lyrics of both inevitably lost on this audience but then that’s not like it mattered, for these performances were about music, less so about poetry, they were about tradition, two very different ones, finding some shared leftover space in contemporary Ireland and holding an audience there.
When the music stops, that crowd loiter inside around the industrial timber spools finishing the last of their drinks, keeping close to the heaters, fearful of the delicate walk home on the black ice on the footpaths. They eventually fall out on to the freezing cold Smithfield Plaza, there’s no one hanging around the Lighthouse or anywhere close, it’s too cold with snow covering the square and freezing fog echoing up around the old chimney, over to the council accommodation and the Cobblestone up to the north-east edge. That’s where the trendy people who weren’t dancing will perhaps go, if not then maybe to nearby Dice Bar or Sin É, but regardless for bravely into the cold urban night they disperse until next time...
The venue right on Smithfield Plaza in Dublin has been threatened with transfer to NAMA since February 2009, but in this abandoned retail unit and warehouse leftover from the Celtic Tiger, the Complex promotes innovations in art, theatre, comedy and music for all sections of the community. They describe the abandoned building-site nature of the venue as ‘site-specific’ with all furniture entirely movable – it fits with their ethos of ‘exploring current issues in society and in the local community,’ so in this industrial urban aesthetic there is a contemporary resonance. They run workshops and classes from which their creativity is sourced, incorporating gallery and rehearsal spaces, to produce entirely in-house shows, although they are not limited to that.
This is all part of a new trend that is emerging, not just in Smithfield, but throughout Dublin – that of re-using spaces that were either left behind and not developed during the building-boom, or using those that were developed but turned out to be surplus to requirements. Consider the urban gardens in Dolphin’s Barn, Clougher Road and Cherry Orchard, and in similar vein to the Complex, Block T in the Chinese Markets also in Smithfield. Put Block T together with the Complex, the Lighthouse Cinema, popular bars the Cobblestone and Dice and it seems the vision for Smithfield seems to finally be materialising as it heaves with anticipation on a cold Friday night.
In the past ten years, Smithfield has gone through a rigorous regeneration, with a programme of building work making it among the most densely designed projects in Dublin. There’s a brief glimpse in the Commitments in the 1980s which shows what it used to look like, the chimney doesn’t have the lift or viewing pod, and the new block is a dreary row of council housing, echoes of which remain on the northeast edge of the plaza. There was a vision brought together by a team of designers for a highly active civic space for markets and outdoor concerts, making Smithfield a cultural hive and an exciting new quarter for city. The vision didn’t materialise however, despite sporadic successes such as the traditional horse fair and the seasonal Christmas markets. The activity such a vast urban space required never came, the vacant shop fronts couldn’t even find tenants when things were good, now they stand as headstones for the Celtic Tiger.
But like Temple Bar in the eighties, it is the artisan ventures that seem to thrive in the bad times; economics’ crisis is imagination’s opportunity. Other workshops are dotted around the area setting up a vibrant network and with ease of access to the city centre attracting a culturally rich demographic to Smithfield, there’s a high number of foreign nationals, the traditional working class residents, young professionals and students bringing a attractive urban variety.
Before the West African guitarist began on Saturday night, the music was briefly interrupted to allow Dónal Lunny give an interview. The previously half-attentive crowd now all drew to the side stage, shuffling for space as they tried to catch a glimpse, and importantly some world weary counsel from the words he speaks. The almost shy interviewer breaks the ice, so to speak, by mentioning the unfortunate reason for the small turnout, but then Lunny starts to respond to real questions, he speaks fondly of a recent trip to the World Badhrán Championships in the midlands, he jokes over the west of Ireland being a bad place for badhráns because it’s too damp, and he speaks on technology in a way one may perhaps not expect... a man renown for tradition embraces contemporary technology, he says “it opens the door, there’s still some... iffy stuff, but there can be great music, great possibilities outside of the regular 9-5, watching the clock life...”
On the walk down, a Garda suggested that the fact patrons are permitted to bring their own alcohol is “entirely illegal... but what can you do...” Hard to say really whether he was being entirely genuine or otherwise, he was dealing with some young urban troublemakers in Super-Valu on North Kings Street at the time, so the Complex was of little concern save some polite Saturday night banter. Events like this and similar ones at nearby Block T in the Chinese markets usually get wound up around midnight, and the Gardaí don’t tend to be too slow in ensuring punters move on.
So as that hour approaches, Dónal Lunny looks toward closing his set with a song sung as gaeilge and something a little faster to leave the crowd wanting more. You wonder whether a larger, warmer, or dare one day it rural, crowd would be more inclined to dancing like those few to the side of the stage, but very few actually do despite their attentiveness. The soft ballad sang in Irish has a resonance with the warm-up act’s west African song, they lyrics of both inevitably lost on this audience but then that’s not like it mattered, for these performances were about music, less so about poetry, they were about tradition, two very different ones, finding some shared leftover space in contemporary Ireland and holding an audience there.
When the music stops, that crowd loiter inside around the industrial timber spools finishing the last of their drinks, keeping close to the heaters, fearful of the delicate walk home on the black ice on the footpaths. They eventually fall out on to the freezing cold Smithfield Plaza, there’s no one hanging around the Lighthouse or anywhere close, it’s too cold with snow covering the square and freezing fog echoing up around the old chimney, over to the council accommodation and the Cobblestone up to the north-east edge. That’s where the trendy people who weren’t dancing will perhaps go, if not then maybe to nearby Dice Bar or Sin É, but regardless for bravely into the cold urban night they disperse until next time...
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Little to do
The 1980s on Dublin’s northside, dole queues leak onto shabby streets, friends enjoy banter in waiting in line, and in their endless supply of free time, their chat concerns their dreams, for one, dissatisfied with the music Ireland is producing, they could be ‘the blacks of Ireland,’ and bring soul to Dublin, Jimmy Rabitte has aspirations of the life fandango and from his parents house in the north inner-city he begins to assemble the greatest band in the world. The Commitments showed a happier side of Dublin during a recession which now pales in significance to the current one; it showed the potential for creativity and ambition at a time of hopelessness.
The Commitments are back, and the bad times are too. Dole queues are thronged again. There are contrasts between the different people signing-on; the pain of so many has been well documented, particularly those supporting families, but within the twenty-somethings there is a different atmosphere. They are just out of college, they are well used to doing nothing and surviving on very little money; for many of them the recession will have seen an improvement in their circumstances. They will be the one’s poised, and indeed assigned to the task of rebuilding the country. That is of course, if they decide to stay.
In the 1980s the twenty-somethings were probably less likely to have had a college education. Twenty years ago those twenty-somethings could hardly of anticipated the unprecedented wealth Ireland would enjoy, and even if they did they would be even less likely to believe that the Government who made it happen would then destroy it in two years. But twenty years of free third-level education finds a generation of our best and brightest wasting their expertise in a social welfare office built during the great building boom at the turn of the 21st century.
The social welfare office the Navan Road is bright and airy; here a group of twenty-something friends gather for their monthly sign on, the group connected by a brother and sister and their friends who all happen to live in Dublin 7, all, coincidentally, have surnames that fall between F and J. The second Wednesday of every month has become a sort of social outing for the group.
“We’re like the Commitments, unemployed but living the life fandango,” said Robin Jardine, graduate architect who found just one month’s work in an architect’s since graduating and has now turned his attention to producing cider as alternative to a profession in which there is up to 70% unemployment. He hopes to turn a hobby into a career by becoming a craft brewer; he collects free apples from an orchard on the grounds of UCD, and is currently producing the cider at a farmhouse just outside Graigenamana in County Kilkenny with another unemployed friend who lives there, he himself a musician on his third album.
Robin’s sister Jacinta, Heather Gray and Carl Giffney are all artists; they all graduated from NCAD in the last two years and see the limited potential in finding a job as the opportune time to further their artistic inclinations. It has often been the case that it is in recessions that creativity will flourish.
Rather than languish in dole queues though, there is another option, an option the Irish have traditionally excelled at. Three of those spoken to approached FÁS with a view to up-skilling were asked if they had considered emigrating. Many graduates want to stay, or at least leave on their own terms but decision to stay, it appears, is the harder choice to make.
For Ann-Marie Fallon another graduate architect, it seems the time has come and, having waited two years already, will not waiting any longer. She has an interview with a recruitment agency in London next week. "Apart from everything, I quite like Ireland and never thought I'd see the day I would be abandoning it. I held out so long in the hope things would turn for the better, but I'm regretting that I stayed around as much as I did."
Aside from artisan indulgences, there is further scope for staying put. Kieran Flood who holds a degree in biology from Trinity College Dublin, has been volunteering with the Irish Wildlife Trust for over a year and a half. He undertook a study of the newt population of Ireland as part of his work, and submitted his report this week. “Yeah, I’m enjoying work but I think that by this time next year I’d want to be getting a pay cheque,” he said.
Roisin Grimes who holds a degree in European Studies for the University of Limerick and spent two years working in Canada before unfortunately timing her return for late 2008 is currently volunteering with CityWise, a programme for educating children from socially disadvantaged backgrounds in Dublin. “What I really want to do is change career. I did this to see if I’d like it, I love it, I love working with the kids and I’m hoping to get into St Pat’s next year.”
Before settling for emigration, Ann-Marie Fallon, decided to “do something constructive”, and has up-skilled, including doing an EU certificated Passive House Planners course, but until she does two years work in professional practice, she cannot call herself an architect, “I need to be mentored. I can only call myself an architectural graduate not an architect. I cannot practice, I cannot sign off on construction, I cannot advertise.”
Some of her friends are participating in FÁS’s Work Placement Programme for unemployed graduates; they aren’t in the Navan Road Social Welfare office today because despite still receiving benefit payments, they do not need to sign on each month. The scheme affords graduates the opportunity to gain practical professional experience in their field. As part of the scheme, participants are not paid but can continue to receive welfare payments. Some employers are taking advantage of the scheme however so it’s not something that will be appeal to everybody.
The group of twenty-somethings emerge from the Navan Road social welfare office into a crisp fresh morning, Kieran is going up to the Irish Wildlife Trust’s office in Glasnevin, Robin’s going to go to Graigenama later in the day for the next stage of the cider making process which he hopes will be ready before Christmas, Roisin is going back to do prepare for her class in Ballyfermot tomorrow and the artists will go for midmorning coffee and a trip to Tesco in back in Phibsboro.
Emerging adulthood is the term given to post-pubescence nowadays, a time for dawdling in college and experiential pursuits like joining a band or being an artist or a cider brewer, before settling into a career somewhere closer to thirty. Free of the unfortunate burdens facing those with families and negative equity, the twenty-somethings take the time to experiment and find their way. It’s not their mess, but it is their opportunity.
The Commitments are back, and the bad times are too. Dole queues are thronged again. There are contrasts between the different people signing-on; the pain of so many has been well documented, particularly those supporting families, but within the twenty-somethings there is a different atmosphere. They are just out of college, they are well used to doing nothing and surviving on very little money; for many of them the recession will have seen an improvement in their circumstances. They will be the one’s poised, and indeed assigned to the task of rebuilding the country. That is of course, if they decide to stay.
In the 1980s the twenty-somethings were probably less likely to have had a college education. Twenty years ago those twenty-somethings could hardly of anticipated the unprecedented wealth Ireland would enjoy, and even if they did they would be even less likely to believe that the Government who made it happen would then destroy it in two years. But twenty years of free third-level education finds a generation of our best and brightest wasting their expertise in a social welfare office built during the great building boom at the turn of the 21st century.
The social welfare office the Navan Road is bright and airy; here a group of twenty-something friends gather for their monthly sign on, the group connected by a brother and sister and their friends who all happen to live in Dublin 7, all, coincidentally, have surnames that fall between F and J. The second Wednesday of every month has become a sort of social outing for the group.
“We’re like the Commitments, unemployed but living the life fandango,” said Robin Jardine, graduate architect who found just one month’s work in an architect’s since graduating and has now turned his attention to producing cider as alternative to a profession in which there is up to 70% unemployment. He hopes to turn a hobby into a career by becoming a craft brewer; he collects free apples from an orchard on the grounds of UCD, and is currently producing the cider at a farmhouse just outside Graigenamana in County Kilkenny with another unemployed friend who lives there, he himself a musician on his third album.
Robin’s sister Jacinta, Heather Gray and Carl Giffney are all artists; they all graduated from NCAD in the last two years and see the limited potential in finding a job as the opportune time to further their artistic inclinations. It has often been the case that it is in recessions that creativity will flourish.
Rather than languish in dole queues though, there is another option, an option the Irish have traditionally excelled at. Three of those spoken to approached FÁS with a view to up-skilling were asked if they had considered emigrating. Many graduates want to stay, or at least leave on their own terms but decision to stay, it appears, is the harder choice to make.
For Ann-Marie Fallon another graduate architect, it seems the time has come and, having waited two years already, will not waiting any longer. She has an interview with a recruitment agency in London next week. "Apart from everything, I quite like Ireland and never thought I'd see the day I would be abandoning it. I held out so long in the hope things would turn for the better, but I'm regretting that I stayed around as much as I did."
Aside from artisan indulgences, there is further scope for staying put. Kieran Flood who holds a degree in biology from Trinity College Dublin, has been volunteering with the Irish Wildlife Trust for over a year and a half. He undertook a study of the newt population of Ireland as part of his work, and submitted his report this week. “Yeah, I’m enjoying work but I think that by this time next year I’d want to be getting a pay cheque,” he said.
Roisin Grimes who holds a degree in European Studies for the University of Limerick and spent two years working in Canada before unfortunately timing her return for late 2008 is currently volunteering with CityWise, a programme for educating children from socially disadvantaged backgrounds in Dublin. “What I really want to do is change career. I did this to see if I’d like it, I love it, I love working with the kids and I’m hoping to get into St Pat’s next year.”
Before settling for emigration, Ann-Marie Fallon, decided to “do something constructive”, and has up-skilled, including doing an EU certificated Passive House Planners course, but until she does two years work in professional practice, she cannot call herself an architect, “I need to be mentored. I can only call myself an architectural graduate not an architect. I cannot practice, I cannot sign off on construction, I cannot advertise.”
Some of her friends are participating in FÁS’s Work Placement Programme for unemployed graduates; they aren’t in the Navan Road Social Welfare office today because despite still receiving benefit payments, they do not need to sign on each month. The scheme affords graduates the opportunity to gain practical professional experience in their field. As part of the scheme, participants are not paid but can continue to receive welfare payments. Some employers are taking advantage of the scheme however so it’s not something that will be appeal to everybody.
The group of twenty-somethings emerge from the Navan Road social welfare office into a crisp fresh morning, Kieran is going up to the Irish Wildlife Trust’s office in Glasnevin, Robin’s going to go to Graigenama later in the day for the next stage of the cider making process which he hopes will be ready before Christmas, Roisin is going back to do prepare for her class in Ballyfermot tomorrow and the artists will go for midmorning coffee and a trip to Tesco in back in Phibsboro.
Emerging adulthood is the term given to post-pubescence nowadays, a time for dawdling in college and experiential pursuits like joining a band or being an artist or a cider brewer, before settling into a career somewhere closer to thirty. Free of the unfortunate burdens facing those with families and negative equity, the twenty-somethings take the time to experiment and find their way. It’s not their mess, but it is their opportunity.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Leftover Space
The scourge of wasteland is becoming familiar place across the country as the recession continues to unravel. Plenty has already been spoken on the overbearing land greed and waste that was so abundant; the blight of ghost estates, the irresponsible one-of housing, the large building sites abandoned over night, the west coast ravaged by holiday homes, and the ill considered after-thought approach public spaces. That theme echoed at the weekend as abandoned, empty land at Cherrywood cannot be used for a Luas park-and-ride facility because the lands have been taken over by NAMA. However, with blame being apportioned and the wheels of justice seemingly beginning to turn as Jim Kennedy and four former Fianna Fáil councillors were last week charged with corruption, now is the time to question what is to be done with what has been left over.
In the vacuum left by the Celtic Tiger steam train, creativity is afforded the opportunity to germinate. Last weekend, members of the Duffy and Gerbola circuses called on local authorities to turn disused sites in town centres into traditional village greens, creating performance spaces and funfair and festival areas. Tara Gerbola, who runs Circus Gerbola with her husband, Michael, alludes to the land greed that authorities got caught up in. “Once every town had a village green to host events, but councils began closing them in the property boom and selling them off for development,” she said.
In France and England, village greens are seen as intrinsic to community and are specifically designated for performance events. On Cork Street last week, a disused plot brought the excitement of the circus to the inner-city; this the first time in decades the circus was permitted back into Dublin city centre with Booterstown and Kilmainham the closest it had previously been allowed.
Such initiatives require minimal capital to get them started, consider the increasingly popular urban farming initiatives, they simply need space. But in the instance that capital is available, indeed when it is thrust forward by a property developer with some inclinations of an apparent civic duty and plenty of land to do something with it, the potential becomes much more exciting. ‘The Parlour,’ Harry Crosbie’s civic space in front of the newly developed O2 was last week finally given permission to be built. The project was born out of the recession when original plans, like so much else, were abandoned indefinitely, but then Crosbie isn’t one to resign himself to defeat.
Furthermore, on Tuesday, it was reported that Dublin City Council and the Dublin Port Company were considering a proposal by Crosbie to relocate the city’s cruise ship terminal to a site closer to the heart of the city at the East-Link Bridge, he proposed to soften the area in front of it with paving and trees to allow visitors the opportunity to engage the city better – inevitably through his nearby civic space to where the Luas will take them into the city centre.
Primary objectors to the Parlour were Crosbie’s partners in the O2, Live Nation, who argued that the 100 painted shipping containers used to build it will “mask” up to a third of the O2 creating a “severe” impact on the protected structure. As a temporary development, An Bord Pleanála granted permission on that premise and that it would add to the vitality of the area.
Vitality that most would concur is very much required in that part of the city. The question thus is asked, will it work. As is tradition, Dublin’s epicentre is again drifting east, but its social centre still clings to the O’Connell – Grafton Street spine and tentatively reaches toward the new city in brief flirtations for work or concerts. Crosbie ambitiously expects his new civic space to be used to host small concerts, for showing sport on large screens, political rallies and farmers’ markets. Rather suggestive of the circus families’ village green ideals despite being quite peripheral to the established city centre. He says “It will be a low-cost means of injecting some energy into land that is lying idle.” He expects it to me a “mini-Covent Garden,” however Covent Garden lies between Oxford Street and the Strand in the West-End, in the heart of London, not at its edge.
It remains to be seen if it will work, but Crosbie’s been proven right before. In the run-up to the recent Open House exhibition, Pauline Byrne of Treasury Holdings called for education in the area of civic pride to be increased; “The private realm dominates in this country, civic spaces and things in the public realm are seen as leftover. Civic pride needs to be part of our education,” she said. This, of course, ties in with what the circus families are saying; good public spaces have tended to be scarce in Dublin.
We have seen massive endeavour fall to unfortunate failure at the invariably barren Smithfield Plaza, of which similar to the Parlour had been proposed, and tokenism such as the little known outdoor theatre on the grounds of the civic offices at Wood Quay. There have been successes though, despite some anti-social behaviour, particularly on Eden Quay, the boardwalk is hugely popular, and few may remember Temple Bar Square 20years ago when it was merely an underused car park, not least the booksellers, buskers and al-fresco diners who now frequent it.
Dublin still lacks a Trafalgar Square or Place de la Concorde type place to gather however; the Grand Slam heroes had Dawson Street and the 2002 World Cup heroes, not afforded the open-top bus, were shifted to the Phoenix Park on health and safety grounds. The break in the trees at the GPO on O’Connell Street is an attempt, although meagre one, but then that’s all that really could be made at that location without knocking Ann Summers.
So it has to be said, there’s some merit in what Crosbie’s proposing. Here is a committed capitalist, owning swathes of the emerging part Dublin city, some used, some underused, some regularly used, but by some strange qwerk, his developer greed is veiled in laudings of an altruistic inclination. He has shaped much of the Docklands, but has been wise enough to locate public buildings at critical points. He opened the O2 and the Grand Canal Theatre during a recession and regularly packs both; and he beat Dublin City Council to the erection of the Wheel of Dublin beside the O2 on the site where he had originally planned a U2 museum. It seems Crosbie and the circus families at least concur that entertainment is viable way through the recession.
He was also involved in hiring a Pritzker Prize winning architect to design the National Conference Centre, a seemingly valid approach to a building of such importance, however it is over-scaled and built as an infill building with one questionably interesting facade; its execution will incur debate amongst Dubliners for generations. The hope is that the Parlour will be more than something for Dubliners to talk about, but rather somewhere for Dubliners to gather as city dwellers are sporadically supposed to; it’s only temporary and peripheral but its success could at least encourage other wasteland owners to think a little more imaginatively.
In the vacuum left by the Celtic Tiger steam train, creativity is afforded the opportunity to germinate. Last weekend, members of the Duffy and Gerbola circuses called on local authorities to turn disused sites in town centres into traditional village greens, creating performance spaces and funfair and festival areas. Tara Gerbola, who runs Circus Gerbola with her husband, Michael, alludes to the land greed that authorities got caught up in. “Once every town had a village green to host events, but councils began closing them in the property boom and selling them off for development,” she said.
In France and England, village greens are seen as intrinsic to community and are specifically designated for performance events. On Cork Street last week, a disused plot brought the excitement of the circus to the inner-city; this the first time in decades the circus was permitted back into Dublin city centre with Booterstown and Kilmainham the closest it had previously been allowed.
Such initiatives require minimal capital to get them started, consider the increasingly popular urban farming initiatives, they simply need space. But in the instance that capital is available, indeed when it is thrust forward by a property developer with some inclinations of an apparent civic duty and plenty of land to do something with it, the potential becomes much more exciting. ‘The Parlour,’ Harry Crosbie’s civic space in front of the newly developed O2 was last week finally given permission to be built. The project was born out of the recession when original plans, like so much else, were abandoned indefinitely, but then Crosbie isn’t one to resign himself to defeat.
Furthermore, on Tuesday, it was reported that Dublin City Council and the Dublin Port Company were considering a proposal by Crosbie to relocate the city’s cruise ship terminal to a site closer to the heart of the city at the East-Link Bridge, he proposed to soften the area in front of it with paving and trees to allow visitors the opportunity to engage the city better – inevitably through his nearby civic space to where the Luas will take them into the city centre.
Primary objectors to the Parlour were Crosbie’s partners in the O2, Live Nation, who argued that the 100 painted shipping containers used to build it will “mask” up to a third of the O2 creating a “severe” impact on the protected structure. As a temporary development, An Bord Pleanála granted permission on that premise and that it would add to the vitality of the area.
Vitality that most would concur is very much required in that part of the city. The question thus is asked, will it work. As is tradition, Dublin’s epicentre is again drifting east, but its social centre still clings to the O’Connell – Grafton Street spine and tentatively reaches toward the new city in brief flirtations for work or concerts. Crosbie ambitiously expects his new civic space to be used to host small concerts, for showing sport on large screens, political rallies and farmers’ markets. Rather suggestive of the circus families’ village green ideals despite being quite peripheral to the established city centre. He says “It will be a low-cost means of injecting some energy into land that is lying idle.” He expects it to me a “mini-Covent Garden,” however Covent Garden lies between Oxford Street and the Strand in the West-End, in the heart of London, not at its edge.
It remains to be seen if it will work, but Crosbie’s been proven right before. In the run-up to the recent Open House exhibition, Pauline Byrne of Treasury Holdings called for education in the area of civic pride to be increased; “The private realm dominates in this country, civic spaces and things in the public realm are seen as leftover. Civic pride needs to be part of our education,” she said. This, of course, ties in with what the circus families are saying; good public spaces have tended to be scarce in Dublin.
We have seen massive endeavour fall to unfortunate failure at the invariably barren Smithfield Plaza, of which similar to the Parlour had been proposed, and tokenism such as the little known outdoor theatre on the grounds of the civic offices at Wood Quay. There have been successes though, despite some anti-social behaviour, particularly on Eden Quay, the boardwalk is hugely popular, and few may remember Temple Bar Square 20years ago when it was merely an underused car park, not least the booksellers, buskers and al-fresco diners who now frequent it.
Dublin still lacks a Trafalgar Square or Place de la Concorde type place to gather however; the Grand Slam heroes had Dawson Street and the 2002 World Cup heroes, not afforded the open-top bus, were shifted to the Phoenix Park on health and safety grounds. The break in the trees at the GPO on O’Connell Street is an attempt, although meagre one, but then that’s all that really could be made at that location without knocking Ann Summers.
So it has to be said, there’s some merit in what Crosbie’s proposing. Here is a committed capitalist, owning swathes of the emerging part Dublin city, some used, some underused, some regularly used, but by some strange qwerk, his developer greed is veiled in laudings of an altruistic inclination. He has shaped much of the Docklands, but has been wise enough to locate public buildings at critical points. He opened the O2 and the Grand Canal Theatre during a recession and regularly packs both; and he beat Dublin City Council to the erection of the Wheel of Dublin beside the O2 on the site where he had originally planned a U2 museum. It seems Crosbie and the circus families at least concur that entertainment is viable way through the recession.
He was also involved in hiring a Pritzker Prize winning architect to design the National Conference Centre, a seemingly valid approach to a building of such importance, however it is over-scaled and built as an infill building with one questionably interesting facade; its execution will incur debate amongst Dubliners for generations. The hope is that the Parlour will be more than something for Dubliners to talk about, but rather somewhere for Dubliners to gather as city dwellers are sporadically supposed to; it’s only temporary and peripheral but its success could at least encourage other wasteland owners to think a little more imaginatively.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Transport 21 – Wonderful Shortcomings
On the surface of it, much of what Transport 21 aspires to is great, but it is fundamentally flawed in so many ways. Do the two existing Luas lines need to link up if, as the Green Party proposes, Metro North is extended south from St Stephen’s Green to connect to the Luas green line at Beechwood station from which point the Luas and Metro trams would share the same tracks, thus connecting the green line to the red line on O’Connell Street, the airport and Swords so negating the need for the BX line in the first place? The RPA yesterday announced they were finalising plans for the BXD line which will ultimately connect to Broombridge, and perhaps one day Finglas, but for now the RPA are planning to spend money on two lines that run the same route, while at the same time digging up at least a third of St Stephen’s Green park, largely so that Metro North can simply turn around. Metro North will happen, the money will eventually come from somewhere, it will take a long time to happen and it will be a good service when it arrives, it’s just a pity the important decisions that can easily be made now are being ignored. The BX line will go ahead, of course, so in conceding defeat my parting shot queries one last detail, that of the proposed route. It will add to an already congested O’Connell Street going north, whereas if both north and south tracks were accommodated on Marlborough Street it would bring some much needed re-activation to that street – although also, owing the acoustic impact of two tram lines, surely hasten the Abbey Theatre’s exodus from its current location (to the GPO we wonder?).
Advisors said 40m trams would be required on the Tallaght Line; the advice was ignored and the RPA have been pushing to expand to that ever since. Wrapping around Dublin Bay, the Dart only has half a catchment area, yet is invariably jammed at rush hour, the capacity of both Luas lines was never going to come close, yet were persisted with anyway. Linking Metro North to the green line would require an extension of platforms on the line, but that is a minimal intervention that would go some way to future-proofing the project. However, simple but important decision making remains aloof from the important people involved in the RPA. A feasibility study of a Luas line from Rathfarnam to Broadstone was undertaken in 2008 and the idea brought no further owing to some negative traffic disruption and problems to do with height clearance, the incline at Christchurch and the previously deemed unsuitable O’Donovan Rossa Bridge. A previous study finding the O’Donovan Rossa Bridge unsuitable surely begs the question why weren’t the two either side of it considered this time or as in the case of the BX line, a new one proposed. The line would’ve connected to the existing Green line at Nutgrove, the proposed Lucan line as well as the high capacity Dart line at Christchurch and potentially Glasnevin/Phibsborough or Broombridge and could’ve gone someway to reducing the need for the number 16 bus, some of which could then be deployed on Quality Bus Corridors elsewhere in the city; alas though it seems to have been abandoned despite being deemed feasible from Nutgrove and Rathfarmam to at least Christchurch. The proposal appears on the Green Party’s policy papers; it might be cynical to suggest the study was done to appease them in Government, but then that might also be the truth.
Why is the Lucan line proposed to terminate on College Green when it is likely plans to extend it to Grand Canal Dock, Ringsend and Poolbeg will be proposed when it is completed? Why was the Port Tunnel built too small for all trucks? How does it take two hours on the Western Rail Corridor to get from Galway to Limerick? Why do Sligo and Mayo people pay the same toll for the M4 when they only get half of what Galway people get? Why is the existing connection between Connolly and Hueston Station under the Phoenix Park not utilised? Why is Metro West not proposed to connect to the Dart at Howth and Dun Laoghaire? And what of integrated transport for Dublin City, the easiest item on that Transport 21 list of ‘things to do’, a pipe-dream surely? Consider the ungainly Loopline Bridge, it met much opposition and stirred controversy for its imposition on the Custom House facade in 1981, and the debate continues well over a hundred years later. Perhaps well-intentioned but ill-considered moves toward transport infrastructure is just our way. But look, it’s not just the public transport powers-that-be that do wonderful things but leave certain baffling shortcomings outstanding? Why did we build two of Europe’s finest sports stadiums and somehow not get the north-end right on either of them? There is sound rationale behind a lot of the decisions, but decisions toward better solutions could easily be made while these projects remain drawings. As to why they are not? It baffles the mind.
Advisors said 40m trams would be required on the Tallaght Line; the advice was ignored and the RPA have been pushing to expand to that ever since. Wrapping around Dublin Bay, the Dart only has half a catchment area, yet is invariably jammed at rush hour, the capacity of both Luas lines was never going to come close, yet were persisted with anyway. Linking Metro North to the green line would require an extension of platforms on the line, but that is a minimal intervention that would go some way to future-proofing the project. However, simple but important decision making remains aloof from the important people involved in the RPA. A feasibility study of a Luas line from Rathfarnam to Broadstone was undertaken in 2008 and the idea brought no further owing to some negative traffic disruption and problems to do with height clearance, the incline at Christchurch and the previously deemed unsuitable O’Donovan Rossa Bridge. A previous study finding the O’Donovan Rossa Bridge unsuitable surely begs the question why weren’t the two either side of it considered this time or as in the case of the BX line, a new one proposed. The line would’ve connected to the existing Green line at Nutgrove, the proposed Lucan line as well as the high capacity Dart line at Christchurch and potentially Glasnevin/Phibsborough or Broombridge and could’ve gone someway to reducing the need for the number 16 bus, some of which could then be deployed on Quality Bus Corridors elsewhere in the city; alas though it seems to have been abandoned despite being deemed feasible from Nutgrove and Rathfarmam to at least Christchurch. The proposal appears on the Green Party’s policy papers; it might be cynical to suggest the study was done to appease them in Government, but then that might also be the truth.
Why is the Lucan line proposed to terminate on College Green when it is likely plans to extend it to Grand Canal Dock, Ringsend and Poolbeg will be proposed when it is completed? Why was the Port Tunnel built too small for all trucks? How does it take two hours on the Western Rail Corridor to get from Galway to Limerick? Why do Sligo and Mayo people pay the same toll for the M4 when they only get half of what Galway people get? Why is the existing connection between Connolly and Hueston Station under the Phoenix Park not utilised? Why is Metro West not proposed to connect to the Dart at Howth and Dun Laoghaire? And what of integrated transport for Dublin City, the easiest item on that Transport 21 list of ‘things to do’, a pipe-dream surely? Consider the ungainly Loopline Bridge, it met much opposition and stirred controversy for its imposition on the Custom House facade in 1981, and the debate continues well over a hundred years later. Perhaps well-intentioned but ill-considered moves toward transport infrastructure is just our way. But look, it’s not just the public transport powers-that-be that do wonderful things but leave certain baffling shortcomings outstanding? Why did we build two of Europe’s finest sports stadiums and somehow not get the north-end right on either of them? There is sound rationale behind a lot of the decisions, but decisions toward better solutions could easily be made while these projects remain drawings. As to why they are not? It baffles the mind.
Friday, June 4, 2010
The Hunger
It seems begging on the streets of Dublin has reached chronic levels. Some are saying Dublin is going, or indeed has gone to Hell, but complaining that things aren’t the way they used to be anymore tends to be a staple of Irish people. A prominent Dublin charity spending €50,000 a month on food and the Capuchin Day Centre preparing 600meals a day, however, does confirm something of Dublin’s trouble. Walking idly around the city last week, it did seem quite prominent; at the ATM on Saint Stephen’s Green a sunburnt twenty-something lady in a sleeping bag, in the park with stories of needing a bus fare, on Baggot Street hassling smokers outside the pubs, one just beyond the canal at Milanos swimming in his own vomit, Saturday night on Harcourt Street and a flow of luckless men and women hoping to catch people coming out of the night-clubs, on any bridge over the Liffey, Wolfe Tone Park, under the Loop-line on Talbot Street, the list could be as long as Ulysses and the words to describe them might actually enable one to rebuild the city.
Why is the question, with recession the immediate answer. But the ‘why’ still lingers. Might it be said, harshly or otherwise, that being generous is akin to feeding a stray dog. Would they do it if they had no other choice? Would they do it because it had been too long since their last fix of heroin? Would they do it if it didn’t yield some return? Ours is not a country, of course, that turns its back on the hungry but if the problem is as serious as it clearly is, this country ought to be doing more – and that does not mean throwing coins into a styrofoam coffee cup.
Why is the question, with recession the immediate answer. But the ‘why’ still lingers. Might it be said, harshly or otherwise, that being generous is akin to feeding a stray dog. Would they do it if they had no other choice? Would they do it because it had been too long since their last fix of heroin? Would they do it if it didn’t yield some return? Ours is not a country, of course, that turns its back on the hungry but if the problem is as serious as it clearly is, this country ought to be doing more – and that does not mean throwing coins into a styrofoam coffee cup.
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