Was William Orpen a man out of step with modernism? Kenneth McConkey tackles this view in commemoration of the centenary of the Great War.

In the early spring of 1916, the removal men arrived at William Orpen’s ‘Oriel’ studio in South Kensington and packed up Nude Pattern: The Holy Well to take it to the forthcoming New English Art Club exhibition. A painting of penitents divesting at a sacred spring, imagined on the edge of Foul Sound between Inisheer and Inishmaan, it appears unproblematic although on top of the shrine, in place of a crucifix, stands an Aran Islander in traditional costume.1 While it might seem vaguely odd to exhibit a picture so completely Irish at a ‘New English’ show in the midst of the Great War, any regular London visitor to club exhibitions would not be surprised.2 Orpen had been a contributor to its exhibitions since 1899 and although he had latterly been sucked into the Royal Academy, he reserved his more challenging, experimental and ‘Irish’ works for the club.3 However, Nude Pattern was to be the last of these grand peasant pageants.
What is it about the work of the Irish sculptor Eilís O’Connell that has led to her having created, in this most difficult and masculine medium, over thirty permanent site-specific installations in Britain and Europe, including the sensual, orchid-like Unfurl (Fig 1), a bronze commissioned by Kensington Borough Council and the residents of Kensington Gate, to celebrate the Millennium?
O’Connell subtly combines a number of different elements that give her work both a sense of physical vitality and poetic metaphor. It is monumental yet intimate, atavistic yet contemporary. From discarded agricultural tools to birds’ nests and whale bones she appropriates the quotidian and the natural to create dynamic forms in stone, steel, resin, plaster and bronze. Like her poetic compatriot, Seamus Heaney, O’Connell looks to the archaeology and topography of her Irish homeland for inspiration but the ideas she finds there are filtered through a considered relationship to architecture and geometry. The work is never soft: emotion is always tempered by intellect and painstaking technique to combine something of the muscularity of Richard Serra with the female sensibility of Barbara Hepworth. Science and mathematics meet the natural world within her organic and biomorphic forms. Inside and outside coalesce. In the layered and slippery space of contemporary culture she has created objects that generate a unifying narrative and suggest a philosophy of interdependence rather than of confrontation, an openness and desire for contact and inclusivity, rather than a brittle postmodern autonomy, which unapologetically recalls the timeless resonances of Brancusi.
Anne Hodge and Peter Harbison examine the visual evidence of Daniel O’Connell’s unusual conditions of imprisonment in the Richmond Bridewell, Dublin
Ursula Burke, Emma Donaldson and Deirdre McKenna explore the mutable topic of time at the F E McWilliam Gallery, Banbridge. Claire Dalton looks at their responses