A fun look at futility

Exhibition runs to May 25 at Townhall Gallery

Some exhibitions can leave you cold. Maybe they ask too much of the viewer. You see people nervously waver at the gallery entrance fearing they’ll be trapped in some impenetrable installation.

‘Far Away & Close To Home’ by Enda Burke couldn’t be more different.

The comical couple captured in daft pursuits surrounded by kitsch decor are as enticing to the casual viewer as a slick commercial. If you weren’t already sold on the exhibition, there’s a real life exercise bike perched on a rug in the middle of the gallery in front of an 1980s’ telly stuck on RTÉ 1. The set up invites the viewer to create their own Enda Burke style image.

Seemingly taking his colour cues from candyfloss and Slush Puppies the garish combinations feel like the images are saturated in E numbers.

“I’ve always loved colour,” volunteers Enda. “Even before I did photography, I’d have worn colourful clothes.” He still does. Impeccably turned out, he sports a green tweed cardigan and roomy burgundy slacks and as such, he stands out from the launch guests - in a good way! And Enda is as easy to engage with as his works.

Embroiled in ludicrous set ups his parents - Denise and Michael - star in these arresting images. A shell-suited Denise pumps a dumbbell while puffing a fag, lager cans strewn across the floor before her; ‘Howdy’ sees her bored senseless, dressed in a cow gal’s outfit lager can in hand while perched on her exercise bike; meanwhile Michael is pictured pushing a pram laden with beer towards a statue of Our Lady. The photographs were composed during Lockdown Enda explains.

“I wanted to bring some vibrancy and humour as an anecdote to the gloominess of Covid - that was one conscious thing - to bring some happiness or fun, as an escapism from the gloominess.”

Enda’s favourite of his works is title Dad’s Socks, the only image shot in film - “It’s people doing stuff with their hands that was futile, like ironing bunch of socks,” he says.

Interestingly, while Enda has his parents take on characters, he’s keen to imbue the images with fragments of his family’s genuine biography. Maybe it’s this duality that’s hinted at in the title ‘Far Away & Close To Home’.

“There’s two popes,” he says of Dad’s Socks, pointing out a discretely placed image of John Paul II. “My parents got married the day Pope John Paul came to Galway - they had to get special passes to get into the church because there were so many guards about - so I wanted to include that in it. And that’s my bedroom - obviously the wall paper wasn’t there. And those are my local team’s football socks - the team I used to play for,” he says with a degree of pride.

When Enda commenced the series, he was yet to establish himself as an artist.

“I was actually teaching English online to Chinese kids as my job and I did street photography in my spare time. I just love street photography. Once Lockdown happened I couldn’t do street photography because the streets were shut, so I had to get creative. Rather than photograph the external world I wanted to bring the external world into my parents’ house, and my house, and create some art.”

Posted online the work caught the attention of The Guardian, and his compositions featured in both its pages and that of its Sunday edition - The Observer.

“It was interesting that it was an English newspaper as well [that first took an interest] because it’s got lots of Irish motifs. But yes the Guardian was the big explosion for me as an artist - it was great - I’d pay to be interviewed by the Guardian,” he quips.

While neither of his parents work in the arts, his mam and dad dabble in painting and writing respectively in their spare time. He’s grateful that they nurtured his artistic side - his father bought him his first camera.

“They didn’t push me, but they were happy when I went that way. Whereas a lot of parents would be: ‘You need to make money,’” he says with a laugh.

He counts himself lucky they were willing to indulge his requests.

“There’s not many parents who would participate in that,” he says of the stylised silliness. “There would be a good few different poses and with the help of my parents I’d pick which one worked the best, so they had an input in the final piece as well and they okayed it for me to post online.”

More than simply indulging Enda’s requests to dress up and pose, his parents clearly relish the roleplay.

“My parents are kind of like B-list celebrities around Galway now - my mam loves when people come up to her and say I saw your pictures. Now she treats every shot like it’s a fashion shoot - she’ll be putting on lipstick and I’ll be saying it’s not a fashion shoot.”

I probe if the work says anything about aging?

“I hadn’t thought about that - you’d have to ask my parents that! It’s kind of ageing in a punk way I guess.”

Enda admits to “trying to move on” from the theme but revisits it every few months if an idea takes his fancy. He agrees with the analogy of a band making the difficult second album.

“Exactly, my friend said this to me recently as well - ‘The ill-fated second album’.

“I’m looking at building a fake mini-supermarket with lots of themes and different archetypes in it - and my parents will make an appearance - that’s the next thing if I can get it up and running,” he says of the project earmarked for his native Galway city.

The week of his exhibition launch he’s just got word that his work has been accepted for the RHA’s prestigious summer exhibition. Delighted he compares getting through the selection stages with X-Factor; little wonder as only eight per cent of submissions get accepted.

“RHA is a huge institution and it’s a huge honour to be exhibiting with some really good artists,” he says adding that there may be a financial windfall too.

“It’s a good way to make dough.”

So is he able to make a living?

“If my dole officer isn’t listening... I actually just registered as self employed.”

The Celt observes that from the outside he would have been making great work whether the Guardian had featured his photos, but happenstance dictates that he can now rely solely on art to earn a living.

“Unfortunately that’s the way capitalism in our society works,” he says wearing the concern lightly.

Chinese children’s linguistic loss is the art world’s gain.