WordSmith: A guerilla in our midst
“Do you miss London?” That’s a question I’m often asked. On the whole, I don’t. Although I do have the occasional pang for its art galleries and museums. That said, Cavan’s pulsing art and culture scene has taken the edge off that pang. So, I guess, “No, I don’t miss London.”
The Town Hall art space has a varied and ever-changing series of exhibitions; and while I don’t always like or understand them, I do enjoy immersing myself in the artists’ thinking and creative process – it’s good to be taken out of my art-comfort-zone. Added to that, I really appreciate the people who work there; they’re always welcomingly affable and contribute greatly to the positive experience of the place.
Recently, I attended the opening of artist Tony O’Brien’s exhibition of carvings and images held in the Cavan Museum. His skilfully crafted works are full of story, and their display in the museum gave them an added dimension that elevated their narratives. The title of the exhibition was ‘TRANSFORMATION’ and, as I stared at Tony’s intriguing creatures, I imagined them waiting for us all to leave before they transformed to life, leaping from their glass cabinet and out from their frames to live the lives Tony has imagined for them. After all, we all know that museums spring to life under the cover of darkness... don’t we?
Then there are the ‘unofficial galleries’ those without curators, created by artists known as Guerrillas.
Guerrilla artists are more commonly known as graffiti artists; the most famous being Banksy. Banksy’s highly politicised, satirical works sprayed on urban walls have become world famous and much anticipated. Yet, the artists’ identity is unknown; a fact that gives his work an extra frisson of excitement, street cred; and has the elusive artist spraying all the way to the bank (sy).
Cavan has its own Banksy; and given I don’t know their identity nor gender, or indeed, if they’re one person, I’ll call them ‘Cavsy'. I first discovered Cavsy’s work in the midst of the pandemic. During a solitary ramble, I stumbled upon a derelict space, a place that reeked of old age and secrets. I battled overgrowth and savage briars until I eventually made my way to the open door of a derelict building. I paused and looked into the darkness that emanated from inside, out. It was a still and silent summer day that amplified a rustling sound from inside: “Probably rats and bats, more scared of me than I am of them,” I said to myself. Still, with some tremble and trepidation, I stepped inside.
I stood to allow my eyes become accustomed. Soon, I saw I was in a stone outhouse, a large portion of which was filled with a tangle of rusting bed and chair frames, which had become hiding place to scurrying critters. The place was a monochrome of grey. But when I turned to leave, I jumped and gasped aloud at what I saw - a riot of colour. The interior front wall was covered with a crowd of colourful characters all vying for my attention.
Marvelling at the artists’ skill with a spray can; I began to feel a kind of privilege, like I’d been gifted my own private viewing. What struck me most was the joy in it; this wasn’t graffiti for it didn’t deface a space, instead it brought life to a dead place. Over that summer I regularly went back and was always delighted to see new spray-works popping up. I thought of chalking a note of appreciation for Cavsy, but decided not to, concluding it might be an intrusion that could stifle their sub-cultural self-expression.
Recently, I decided to let a trusted friend in on my secret-guerrilla-gallery. And to my surprise, I discovered it’s not only my secret - Cavsy has quite the cult following.
Cavsy’s art got me thinking back to Tony’s. I had a similar emotional response to both artists’ work. They share a vitality and energy with a quirky sense of story and character.
But where one exhibition was housed in a beautifully protected space; the other camped amidst dying dereliction. Yet, I felt both would work equally well in each other’s venues. It made me realise that art really can live in the midst of anywhere.
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