THE YELLOW RIVER - Seán McSweeney & Gerard Smyth
The Yellow River is a tributary of the Blackwater (Kells), which joins the Boyne at Navan, County Meath that unites the personal histories of poet Gerard Smyth and artist Sean McSweeney. Gerard Smyth spent many summers in Meath staying with his grandmother and an aunt, whilst originally Sen McSweeney’s family lived in Clongill until the untimely death of his father. Over two years Gerard Smyth revisited Meath in further inquiry with Belinda Quirke, Director of Solstice, in the development of a new suite of poems, recollecting and revisiting significant sites of occurrence in the poet’s and county’s history. Sean McSweeney created new work from trips to his original home place and the county. McSweeney here responds lyrically to particular sites of Smyth’s poetry, whilst also depicting in watercolour, ink, tempera and drawing, the particular hues of The Royal County. The Yellow River is a tributary of the Blackwater (Kells), which joins the Boyne at Navan, County Meath that unites the personal histories of poet Gerard Smyth and artist Sean McSweeney. Gerard Smyth spent many summers in Meath staying with his grandmother and an aunt, whilst originally Sen McSweeney’s family lived in Clongill until the untimely death of his father. Over two years Gerard Smyth revisited Meath in further inquiry with Belinda Quirke, Director of Solstice, in the development of a new suite of poems, recollecting and revisiting significant sites of occurrence in the poet’s and county’s history. Sean McSweeney created new work from trips to his original home place and the county. McSweeney here responds lyrically to particular sites of Smyth’s poetry, whilst also depicting in watercolour, ink, tempera and drawing, the particular hues of The Royal County.
YANKSThe house of dereliction is rottingfrom within – gathering dust,falling to bits. In its small roomssparrows have made their nests and singthe only lullabies this house has heardsince the year after a difficult birth.Between the wars it was desertedfor a sailing ticket, a New York job.Now yanks who return to the spot,stop five minutes and aim their camerasto take a picture of the remnantof what once was the heart of things.At the tourist office they receive a mapof the heritage sites and good adviceon where to cross the river,where to find monuments offthe beaten track but seen on postcardsshowing the treasures of the Boyne.Since childhood they have listenedto lore from a family archive,the names of distant cousins.They cannot stay long,just enough time for the scenic drive.Another country is waiting for them.Passing through the NightTempera on paper14.5 x 20.5 cm201643
- Page 1: YELLOWSeán McSweeney & Gerard Smyt
- Page 5: YELLOWSeán McSweeney & Gerard Smyt
- Page 10 and 11: called “ his personal language as
- Page 12 and 13: My divining rod - and Seán’s rap
- Page 14: Yellow RiverWatercolour on paper14.
- Page 18 and 19: THE BLACKBIRDS OF WILKINSTOWNIt is
- Page 21 and 22: Ploughed FieldTempera on paper14.5c
- Page 24 and 25: GOLDEN WONDERSThey were watching th
- Page 27 and 28: AT THE GRAVE OF MICHAEL BATHEThis c
- Page 29 and 30: ON THE FARMDon’t look for those n
- Page 31 and 32: 31Summer FieldTempera on paper28 x
- Page 33: THE RAIN BARRELGrandmother was a ra
- Page 36: WHEN THE ELMS DIEDWhen the elms die
- Page 39 and 40: THE KILLJOY MONTH…..and I knewtha
- Page 41: (3)i.m. Paddy TraynorWith his turf-
- Page 45 and 46: POEM BEGINNING WITH A LINE FROM F R
- Page 47: GAELTACHTOne word and tomorrow beca
- Page 50: LITTLE VILLAGEIt was where first an
- Page 54 and 55: HISTORY MAKERSWilliam of Orange on
- Page 56 and 57: A WHISPER RAN THROUGH LARACORWe mis
- Page 58 and 59: ONLY ROCK ‘N’ ROLLGuitar riffs
- Page 61 and 62: COASTAt Mornington, out on the estu
- Page 65 and 66: THE YEAR I TURNED TO POETRYThe year
- Page 67 and 68: BIOGRAPHIESSeán McSweeneySeán McS
- Page 70: 70
YANKS
The house of dereliction is rotting
from within – gathering dust,
falling to bits. In its small rooms
sparrows have made their nests and sing
the only lullabies this house has heard
since the year after a difficult birth.
Between the wars it was deserted
for a sailing ticket, a New York job.
Now yanks who return to the spot,
stop five minutes and aim their cameras
to take a picture of the remnant
of what once was the heart of things.
At the tourist office they receive a map
of the heritage sites and good advice
on where to cross the river,
where to find monuments off
the beaten track but seen on postcards
showing the treasures of the Boyne.
Since childhood they have listened
to lore from a family archive,
the names of distant cousins.
They cannot stay long,
just enough time for the scenic drive.
Another country is waiting for them.
Passing through the Night
Tempera on paper
14.5 x 20.5 cm
2016
43