316 resultados para artefact
Resumo:
This article considers the Aran jumper as a cultural artefact from an anthropological perspective. As an internationally recognized symbol of Irishness that comes with its own myth of origin, the Aran jumper carries emotionally charged ideas about kinship and nativeness. Whether read as an ID document, family tree, representation of the landscape or reference to Christian or pre-Christian spirituality, the Aran jumper’s stitch patterns seem to invite interpretation. Emerging at a particular period in the relationship between Ireland and America, this garment and the story that accompanies it have been shaped by migration and tourism, but may be understood very differently on either side of the Atlantic. The resilience of the myth of a fisherman lost at sea, whose corpse is identifiable only by designs his relatives have stitched into his clothing, is explained in light of its resonance with diasporic narratives and transnational longings.
Resumo:
Ballybeg, the fictitious setting for Brian Friel’s plays, is more famous than most real villages in Ulster. Despite not existing, the village has a kind of cultural and geographic life. This is part of what this map is about. It locates and charts Ulster’s fictional places — places invented by writers down through the years. These places have meaning too, they are part of how Ulster pictures itself and how others picture Ulster.
Resumo:
I charted unofficial border-crossings along Ireland's border, those not found on any other map.
During many surveys of Ireland's border I discovered that it is often perforated. Gates are set in hedgerows for the convenience of farmers, stepping stones and community-built bridges span rivers, walkers’ routes and muddy by-ways go wherever they please. These kinds of connections have always been there, although I think it is fair to say that their numbers have increased during the Peace Process. Roads blocked or cratered during the Troubles are being re-connected at a rate too fast for the Ordnance Survey to keep up with. On the local level cross-border movement is quietly happening, unchecked and often unmapped, until now.
This map attempts to throw the borderline in perpendicular, showing it as a place of connection rather than division.
Resumo:
For The Map of Watchful Architecture I only concerned myself with defensive architecture along the Border. As the map followed a border it came out as a wavy line of points. This was largely artificial, I only charted architecture within the Border corridor, but was not entirely artificial. That linear landscape has long been staked-out by the regularity of certain kinds of architecture. The 1st/2nd century Black Pig’s Dyke and Dorsey correspond with today’s Border. The concentration of souterrains in north Louth indicate that it may have been a volatile interface zone in later centuries. In 1618 Londonderry and its walls were built. Further north and two centuries later, Martello Towers were constructed to watch over Lough Foyle. During the Second World War pillboxes and observation posts were manned along the Border, close to what was now an international frontier. Then came the Operation Banner installations built during The Troubles. All this adds up to be one of the longest unbroken traditions of defensive architecture anywhere in Western Europe, a tradition some thought finally broken as the last of the Operation Banner towers were de-installed in 2007. But, take a bus south across the Border and you will often be pulled over by the Garda Síochána. They ID check the passengers in an attempt to stop illegal immigration via the UK. What about illegal immigrants who walk through the fields or along quiet lanes? They will have understood the Border is not really how it seems on most maps. It is not a solid line, it is a row of points.
Resumo:
A chair made using traditional boatbuilding techniques, which shape timber into incredibly strong and light shell forms. Made with wind felled larch, copper roves and rivets, steel bar
Resumo:
At the formation of the new Republic of Ireland, the construction of new infrastructures was seen as an essential element in the building of the new nation, just as the adoption of international style modernism in architecture was perceived as a way to escape the colonial past. Accordingly, infrastructure became the physical manifestation, the concrete identity of these objectives and architecture formed an integral part of this narrative. Moving between scales and from artefact to context, Infrastructure and the Architectures of Modernity in Ireland 1916-2016 provides critical insights and narratives on what is a complex and hitherto overlooked landscape, one which is often as much international as it is Irish. In doing so, it explores the interaction between the universalising and globalising tendencies of modernisation on one hand and the textures of local architectures on the other.
The book shows how the nature of technology and infrastructure is inherently cosmopolitan. Beginning with the building of the heroic Shannon hydro-electric facility at Ardnacrusha by the German firm of Siemens-Schuckert in the first decade of independence, Ireland became a point of varying types of intersection between imported international expertise and local need. Meanwhile, at the other end of the century, by the year 2000, Ireland had become one of the most globalized countries in the world, site of the European headquarters of multinationals such as Google and Microsoft. Climatically and economically expedient to the storing and harvesting of data, Ireland has subsequently become a repository of digital information farmed in large, single-storey sheds absorbed into anonymous suburbs. In 2013, it became the preferred site for Intel to design and develop its new microprocessor chip: the Galileo. The story of the decades in between, of shifts made manifest in architecture and infrastructure from the policies of economic protectionism, to the opening up of the country to direct foreign investment and the embracing of the EU, is one of the influx of technologies and cultural references into a small country on the edges of Europe as Ireland became both a launch-pad and testing ground for a series of aspects of designed modernity.
Resumo:
Dental Panoramic Tomography (DPT) is a widely used and valuable examination in dentistry. One area prone to artefacts and therefore misinterpretation is the anterior region of the mandible. This case study discusses a periapical radiolucency related to lower anterior teeth that is discovered to be a radiographic artefact. Possible causes of the artefact include a pronounced depression in the mental region of the mandible or superimposition of intervertebral spaces. Additional limitations of the DPT image include superimposition of radio-opaque structures, reduced image detail compared to intra-oral views and uneven magnification. These problems often make the DPT inappropriate for imaging the anterior mandible.
CLINICAL RELEVANCE: Panoramic radiography is often unsuitable for radiographic examination of the anterior mandible.
Resumo:
The buried and semi-buried bunker, bulwark since the early eighteenth century against increasingly sophisticated forms of ordnance, emerged in increasing number in Europe throughout the twentieth century across a series of scales from the household Anderson shelter to the vast infrastructural works of the Maginot and Siegfried lines, or the Atlantic Wall. Its latest proliferation took place during the Cold War. From these perspectives, it is as emblematic of modernity as the department store, the great exhibition, the skyscraper or the machine-inspired domestic space advocated by Le Corbusier. It also represents the obverse, or perhaps a parodic iteration, of the preoccupations of early architectural modernism: a vast underground international style, cast in millions of tons of thick, reinforced concrete retaining walls, whose spatial relationship to the landscape above was strictly mediated through the periscope, the loop-hole, the range finder and the strategic necessity to both resist and facilitate the technologies and scopic regimes of weaponry. Embarking from Bunker Archaeology, this paper critically uncoils Paul Virillo’s observation, that once physically eclipsed in its topographical and technical settings, the bunker’s efficacy would mutate to other domains, retaining and remaking its meaning in another topology during the Cold War. ‘The essence of the new fortress’ he writes ‘is elsewhere, underfoot, invisible from here on in’. Shaped by this impulse, this paper seeks to render visible the bunker’s significance in a wider milieu and, in doing so, excavate some of the relationships between the physical artefact, its implications and its enduring metaphorical and perceptual ghosts.
Resumo:
‘A free Ireland would drain the bogs, would harness the rivers, would plant the wastes, would nationalise the railways and the waterways, would improve agriculture, would protect fisheries, would foster industries, would promote commerce, and beautify the cities …’ (Padraig Pearse, ‘From a Hermitage’, 1913)
Somewhat unusually in his often romantic writings Padraig Pearse – poet, pedagogue and revolutionary – chose to describe the future of an independent Ireland in terms of infrastructure and technological processes. Terence Brown’s locating of this excerpt at the beginning his seminal work Ireland: A Social and Cultural History 1922-2002 highlights the simultaneous and interlinking construction of both a new physical and cultural landscape for an independent modern nation. Lacking any significant industrial complex, the construction of new infrastructures in Ireland was seen throughout the 20th century as a key element in the building of the new State, just as the adoption of an international style modernism in architecture was perceived as a way to escape the colonial past. For Paul N. Edwards modernity and infrastructure are intimately connected.
‘infrastructures simultaneously shape and are shaped – in other words, co-construct – the condition of modernity. By linking macro, meso, and micro scales of time, space and social organisation, they form the stable foundation of modern social worlds’ (2003: 186).
Simultaneously omnipresent and invisible – infra means beneath – Edwards also points out that infrastructure tends only to become apparent when it is either new or broken. Interpreting the meso scale as being that of the building, this session calls for papers that critically and analytically investigate aspects of the architectures of infrastructure in 20th-century Ireland. Like the territory they explore these papers may range across scales to oscillate between a concern for the artefact and its physical landscape, and the larger, often hidden systems and networks that co-define this architecture.