Almost nothing, almost anywhere: the metal shed in Ireland

This paper argues that the modern barn in Ireland is a complex social and architectural phenomena that is without, or has yet to find, a satisfactory discourse. Emerging in the middle third of the twentieth century, the modern barn – replete with corrugated iron and I-sections – continues to represent a presence in the Irish landscape whose ubiquity is as emphatic as its flexibility. It is, however, its universal properties that begin to suggest connections with wider narratives. The modernising aspects of the barn that appear in the 1920s and 30s begin to conflate with a rhetoric of architectural modernism which was simultaneously appearing across Europe. But while the relationship between high modernism’s critique of what it divined as the inspirational qualities of utilitarian buildings – Walter Gropius on grain silos, Le Corbusier on aircraft hangers etc. – has been well-documented, in Ireland this relationship perhaps contains another layer of complexity.
The barn’s consolidation as a modern type coincided with the search for a nation’s cultural identity after centuries of colonial rule. This tended to be an introspective vision that prioritised rural space over urban space, agriculture over industry, and imagined the small farm as a central tenet in the construction of a new State. This paper suggests that the twentieth-century barn – as a product of the mechanisation of agriculture promoted by the new administrations – is an iconic structure, emblematic of attempts to reconcile the contradictory forces and imagery of modernity with the mores of a traditional society. Moreover, given a cultural purview that was often ambivalent or even hostile to the ideologies and forms of modernity, the barn in Ireland is, perhaps, not so much the inspiration but the realisation of an architectural modernism in that country at its most pervasive, enduring and unself-conscious.

Dublin’s ephemeral and imaginary architectures

In 1989, the Irish architectural practice O’Donnell and Tuomey were commissioned to build a temporary pavilion to represent Ireland at the 11 Cities/11 Nations exhibition at Leeuwarden in the Netherlands. Citing Peter Smithson, John Tuomey suggested the pavilion, which drew inspirations from the forms and materials of the modern Irish barn, embodied an intention ‘not just to build but to communicate’. Its subsequent reassembly for the inauguration of the Irish Museum of Modern Art in the courtyard of the seventeenth-century Royal Hospital Kilmainham in Dublin in 1991, drew comparisons between the urban sophistication of this colonial building, its svelte new refit, and the rural expression of O’Donnell + Tuomey’s barn. It was, one critic recently noted, as if ‘a wedding had been crashed by a country cousin who had forgotten to clean his boots’.
It has been argued that temporary or ephemeral pieces of architecture, unburdened by the traditional constraints of firmitas or utilitas, have the ability to offer a concise distillation of meaning and intention. Approaching the qualities of rhetoric, such architectures share similarities with the monument and yet differ in fundamental ways. Their rapid construction in lightweight materials can allow for an almost instantaneous negotiation of zeitgeist. And, unlike the monument, from the outset the space and form of these installations is designed to disappear.
This paper analyses the ephemeral architectures of Dublin in the modern period contextualising their qualities and intentions as they manifest themselves across colonial, post-colonial and contemporary epochs. It finds origins in the theatrical sets of the late eighteenth century and traces their movements into the semi-public sphere of the pleasure garden and finally into the theatre of the streets. It is here that temporary architecture in the city has been at its most potent, allowing the amplification or subversion of the meanings of much larger spaces. Historically, much of Dublin’s most conspicuous instances of ephemeral architecture have been realised as a means of articulating mass spectacle in political, religious or nationalistic events. And while much of this has sought to confirm dominant ideologies, it has also been possible to discern moments of opposition.
The contemporary period, however, has arguably witnessed a shift in ephemeral architectures from explicitly representing ‘positive ideologies’ towards something more oblique or nebulous. This turn towards abstraction in form and space has rendered an especially communicative form of architecture particularly elusive. By examining continuities within the apparent disjuncture between historical and contemporary examples, this paper begins to unpick the language of recent ephemeral architecture in Dublin and situate it within wider global trends where political and economic imperatives are often simultaneously obscured and expressed in public space by a vocabulary of universality. As Jurgen Habermas has suggested, the contemporary value given to the transitory and the ephemeral ‘discloses a longing for an undefiled, immaculate and stable present’.

A box in the field: modernity and the barn in twentieth-century Ireland

This paper argues that the modern barn in Ireland is a complex social and architectural phenomena that is without, or has yet to find, a satisfactory discourse. Emerging in the middle third of the twentieth century, the modern barn – replete with corrugated iron and I-sections – continues to represent a presence in the Irish landscape whose ubiquity is as emphatic as its flexibility. It is, however, its universal properties that begin to suggest connections with wider narratives. The modernising aspects of the barn that appear in the 1920s and 30s begin to conflate with a rhetoric of architectural modernism which was simultaneously appearing across Europe. But while the relationship between high modernism’s critique of what it divined as the inspirational qualities of utilitarian buildings – Walter Gropius on grain silos, Le Corbusier on aircraft hangers etc. – has been well-documented, in Ireland this relationship perhaps contains another layer of complexity.
The barn’s consolidation as a modern type coincided with the search for a nation’s cultural identity after centuries of colonial rule. This tended to be an introspective vision that prioritised rural space over urban space, agriculture over industry, and imagined the small farm as a central tenet in the construction of a new State. This paper suggests that the twentieth-century barn – as a product of the mechanisation of agriculture promoted by the new administrations – is an iconic structure, emblematic of attempts to reconcile the contradictory forces and imagery of modernity with the mores of a traditional society. Moreover, given a cultural purview that was often ambivalent or even hostile to the ideologies and forms of modernity, the barn in Ireland is, perhaps, not so much the inspiration but the realisation of an architectural modernism in that country at its most pervasive, enduring and unself-conscious.

Dublin 1916: theatre of revolt

At Easter 1916, Dublin city centre was one of a series of sites throughout Ireland where a rebellion was staged against British rule. It was a strategic failure, swiftly crushed by superior British forces. The event, however, subsequently took a central role in the mythology of modern Ireland.

The first visual representations were of the conflict’s aftermath: photographic journeys through landscapes of ruin. From the distance of the camera, we see none of the pockmarks of shell bursts, nor the etchings of machine guns. Instead, traces of life in the city seem to have been swept aside by an unseen hand: the passing of millennia or a violent action of nature. Architecture alone has witnessed and recorded its presence. Amongst the fragments, the shell of the General Post Office (G.P.O.) in Sackville Street is one of the few buildings still wholly recognizable. The remnants of its classical form, portico and pediment, columns and entablature seem to transcend its prosaic modern functions and allude to something more ancient. The bewilderment of city’s inhabitants is also recorded. Dubliners have become inquisitive tourists in streets which hitherto were the locus of everyday life. They wander around aimlessly in a landscape as alien and picturesque as Pompeii. This shift in perception was captured by the Irish poet W.B. Yeats who hinted that Dublin, purged of modern commercialism had transcended its petty inadequacies to revive a slumbering heroic past.

‘I have met them at the close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses [.]’
All is changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.’

His comments were prescient. Initially unpopular, the republican leaders, executed by the British, slowly became recast as heroic martyrs. Similarly, the spaces where their heroism was forged became venerated. The G.P.O. and Sackville Street, however, already had a republican history. It was originally conceived in the eighteenth century as part of a series of magnificent urban spaces to provide an arena of spectacle and self-celebration for the colonial Anglo-Irish and their vision of a Protestant republic. O’Connell/Sackville Street became the temporal, geographical and mythical hinge upon which two different versions of Irish republicanism waxed and waned. Its recasting after independence as a space of Catholic Nationalism bore testimony to its consistency in providing a backdrop for the production of ritual and myth. In the 1920s and 30s, as the nascent country, beset with economic stagnation and political tensions, turned to spectacle as a salve for it social problems, O’Connell Street and the G.P.O. provided its most sacred sites. Within the introduction of new myths, however, individual as well as national identities were created and consolidated. The emerging identity of modern Ireland became inextricably linked with that of one ambitious politician. His uses of the G.P.O. in particular revealed a perceptive understanding of the political uses of classical architecture and urban space.

Walking the City:No more motorways for Belfast

Streets are key elements of urban space; they are in essence public spaces and connect diverse areas of the city weaving the urban fabric. Once motorways replace existing streets, they tear the fabric and transform the qualities of the urban landscape. As in many cities throughout the world, in Belfast during the 1960s the growth of private car ownership took over the development of the city. The Roads Authority developed plans (1964/1969) to build a ring road surrounding most of the city. This deeply affected the use and shape of the city until today. This plan focused on encouraging the move of population to the outskirts of the city. However, the connections between the city centre and its surrounding neighbourhoods were broken. Only the southern stretch of the motorway was not built. This allowed the connection between South Belfast and the city centre to remain seamless. The current possibility of building the southern stretch of motorway threatens this continuity. This paper will highlight the very high value of streets by analysing their physical qualities.

Creating Shared Public Space in the Contested City: The Role of Urban Design

This paper examines relevant characteristics of the ‘contested city’ and the concept of ‘public space’ in that problematic context. It offers an appraisal of the historical and contemporary role of urban design in shaping social space and interrogates the feasibility of using urban design to facilitate more integrated cityscapes. It presents detailed case studies of two ‘contested cities’, Nicosia and Belfast, based on content analysis of policy and planning documents, extensive site analyses in both places, interviews and seminar discussions with policy makers, planners, community and civic leaders. The paper comprises four dimensions—conceptual, descriptive, analytical and prescriptive—and in its final section identifies core values and relevant policies for the potential achievement of shared space in contested cities.

The impact of interventions to promote physical activity in urban green space: A systematic review and recommendations for future research

Evidence is mounting on the association between the built environment and physical activity (PA) with a call for intervention research. A broader approach which recognizes the role of supportive environments that can make healthy choices easier is required. A systematic review was undertaken to assess the effectiveness of interventions to encourage PA in urban green space. Five databases were searched independently by two reviewers using search terms relating to 'physical activity', 'urban green space' and 'intervention' in July 2014. Eligibility criteria included: (i) intervention to encourage PA in urban green space which involved either a physical change to the urban green space or a PA intervention to promote use of urban green space or a combination of both; and (ii) primary outcome of PA. Of the 2405 studies identified, 12 were included. There was some evidence (4/9 studies showed positive effect) to support built environment only interventions for encouraging use and increasing PA in urban green space. There was more promising evidence (3/3 studies showed positive effect) to support PAprograms or PA programs combined with a physical change to the built environment, for increasing urban green space use and PAof users. Recommendations for future research include the need for longer term follow-up post-intervention, adequate control groups, sufficiently powered studies, and consideration of the social environment, which was identified as a significantly under-utilized resource in this area. Interventions that involve the use of PA programs combined with a physical change to the built environment are likely to have a positive effect on PA. Robust evaluations of such interventions are urgently required. The findings provide a platform to inform the design, implementation and evaluation of future urban green space and PAintervention research.