Photographer
Tom Lawlor and Captain Owen Deignan of the Commissioners of
Irish Lights design a sundial for the millennium.
sketch of
proposed Millennium sundial; courtesy Tom Lawlor
We
met in the Pebble Beach Clontarf to discuss the feasibility
of our Millennium Project. We knew the capital lacked a visual
signature and our vision was to create a new piece of sculpture
to grace the country's parlour. Some piece that would be photographed
by every visitor and would eventually become a symbol for Dublin
and Ireland.
Our vision was a giant sundial, one of the largest in the world.
The prototype was assembled on a table in the bar. I brought
a large heavy bound book and quill, Owen produced a silver ink
pot and bicycle lamp. Balancing the open book on its spine we
fixed the quill in the ink pot and, using the lamp, Owen simulated
the sun's track across the sky casting the shadow of the quill
across the open pages marking the passage of time. I sat mesmerised
as Owen mimicked the characteristics of the sun in all its seasons.
As the sun rose and set again and again Jim Kelly eyed us cautiously
from behind the bar but did not interfere. When Owen announced
that the project was viable, a cheer went up in the bar. Liverpool
had equalised against United.
To consider possible locations for our dial we toured the city
and some of the sundials already available to the public in
Dublin.
The Botanical Gardens have two dials. Located beside the glass
house is a horizontal dial made in the mid eighteenth century
by Lynch of 26 Capel Street, Dublin. It is one of the few dials
in Ireland with a time-scale graduated in single minutes. In
the Rose Garden is a modern sturdy armillary with its assembly
of rings representing the principle circles of the heavens,
made vandal-proof by Owen using part of the tail shaft of a
motorboat to construct the brass stand.
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| Sundial
at the Royal Hospital Kilmainham/Irish Museum of Modern
Art; photo Tom Lawlor |
Sundial,
St. James's Street, Dublin, built 1790; photo Tom Lawlor |
Dublin's one and only street dial is situated on a traffic island
in James's Street. Built in 1790 by the Duke of Rutland, Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland. Consisting of 4 sundials, each one at
right angles to its adjoining dials at the top of a sandstone
obelisk, it incorporates a drinking fountain in its base which
has nothing to do with its proximity to the nearby brewery.
Yet it was a donation from Guinness that saved this unique monument.
In 1990 when Dublin was nominated the cultural capital of Europe
this sundial was very much the worse for wear. Its top was missing,
the surface of the stone was badly eroded and two of the four
gnomons were missing from the sundials. But worst of all, two
street lamps had been erected beside the sundial and a number
of trees had been allowed to grow so tall that they obscured
and shaded the obelisk on three sides, rendering the sundials
useless. It was a cultural disaster, and a public eyesore. Owen
had been pleading with Dublin Corporation for some years previous
to do something about its restoration before it was too late,
pointing out the uniqueness of the monument, which is of pure
Georgian origin, even offering his services free of charge,
in the restoration of the sundials. During the examination and
restoration Owen found the erosion so bad that only 10% of the
original hour lines and Roman numerals were visible forcing
him to work from scratch and rework the solar calculations for
the four faces. He also discovered that the faces were not aligned
to the cardinal points of the compass, North, South, East and
West but were 8.8 degrees off which complicated things still
further. As they had no original builders' plans, a very good
painting of the structure by George Petrie in the archives of
the National Art Gallery dating from the early 1800s, proved
a helpful guide in the refurbishment. Restored and unveiled
in the Spring of 1995, back in the public eye and open to the
sunshine it is a celebration of the skill of Dublin Corporation
craftsmen and Owen's determination in saving an architectural
gem for the generations to come.
A short walk from the four dials obelisk is the Royal Hospital
at Kilmainham which was built in 1680 by the Duke of Ormond
as a home for old soldiers. It is one of Ireland's finest buildings
and has a magnificent sundial overlooking its cloistered courtyard,
with gilded Roman numerals and hour lines set behind a blue
gnomon. Unlike a stopped clock which will give you correct time
twice a day because of a gross error this dial is now incapable
of telling time on any day of the year. Beautiful but useless,
like a lighthouse in a bog. The dial was restored twice in this
century, in 1954 and 1906. The error must have been introduced
into it on one of these occasions, as they would never have
made such a serious mistake back in 1680, when it was erected.
A Bord of Works joke that no one laughs at.
Three locations are eventually proposed. The Phoenix Park would
offer a wide expanse necessary to enjoy the piece and give uninterrupted
access to the sun. The seafront at Clontarf would also give
good sun access and provide a visual counterbalance to the growing
eyesore that the docks provide. One of the city parks could
also be considered; this would have limited sun access but have
the advantage of security.
Back at the Pebbler we progress the concept. Architect Jim Ahern
address the construction difficulties and materials are discussed.
Proportions and human-dial ratios are debated. The book element
would display the names of our famous authors and playwrights.
This list could be added to when suitable and the dial would
be a gathering place to celebrate them.
Finally the proposal is compiled and sent to the Millennium
committee for consideration. So far, no word back. Perhaps they
want one that works under water.
