Word: dublins
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...year: 1857; the place: Dublin's Synge Street. Mrs. Lucinda Shaw has gone off on a visit to County Galway, leaving her one-year-old son George Bernard (known as "Bob") in care of his father, George Carr Shaw, co-partner in the respectable grain firm of Clibborn & Shaw. Naturally, mother Shaw wants to know exactly what catastrophes are taking place in her absence, so dutiful father Shaw picks up his pen and briefs...
...there is one thing Colin Middleton can't abide, it's "this long-haired, corduroy cult of artists." The stocky Irish painter prefers to wear his own hair trimmed short and to roll about Belfast and Dublin in hand-woven tweed plus-fours, red suede shoes and a black beret. His would be a notable figure in any landscape; in Ireland, which has produced hardly any painting worth the name,* Middleton is a current sensation...
...style of his own after a good many years of following other people's. "At seven," he says, "I was definitely modernistic in outlook. My first painting was rather like a fumbling Matisse." He grew up to paint slick surrealist canvases. When he showed 30 of them in Dublin three years ago, he sold only two or three; when he hauled out more than 100 in his own Belfast, not a one was sold. Middleton supported his wife and three children by working as a damask designer...
...people inside his picture frames looked desperate on the whole, not ecstatic, but people on the outside looking in were generally pleased as Punch. Middleton's exhibition in a Dublin gallery last week sold fast, and moved critics to unaccustomed cheers. Ireland's No. 1 painter, crusty old Jack B. Yeats (brother of the late great Poet William Butler), spent a morning at the show, at last gave his judgment: "It takes 40 years to learn to handle paint like that." Middleton was just...
...innocent gaum O'Casey woke up with a bump to find that most people were clay after all. When his proletarian plays were staged by Dublin's Abbey Theater, many critics hissed maliciously and poets looked nervously the other way. Even pioneers, O'Casey discovered, fear public opinion; even democrats get a kick out of wearing striped pants and top hats; even noble esthetes enjoy walking with one foot in the gutter. Sean was shocked to find that stately, plump Oliver St. John Gogarty surreptitiously read whodunits ; that refined Lady Gregory reveled...