IRELAND AT THE 1915 WORLD’S FAIR

New Zealand Tablet, 20 August 1914, Page 51

IRELAND AT THE 1915 WORLD’S FAIR

In the San Francisco Monitor a few weeks ago definite announcement was made of the Irish exhibit at the Panama-Pacific Exposition, to be known as ‘ The Shamrock Isle Concession.’ The manager of this unique ‘ Irish village ’ — which will be a total departure from all the so-called Irish villages of other world’s fairs—is the Californian artist, Michael O’Sullivan. Mr. O’Sullivan recently Returned to San Francisco from Ireland, where he toured for a good part of last year gathering material for ‘ The Shamrock Isle.’ Full of enthusiasm over his project and happy over the great success which he met with during his travels in the Old Country, Mr. O’Sullivan, in an interview with the Monitor recently described ‘ The Shamrock Isle ’ as it will appear when built and finished in 1915. With a large model complete in the minutest detail, as a guide, the artist took his interviewer on an imaginary tour, so to speak, through the immense Irish concession.

Coming down the main avenue (said he) on the most prominent corner we suddenly face an array of enormous old castles, round towers, and ivy-covered ruins overtopping the surrounding buildings; driving up to the entrance we must pause a few minutes to enjoy a fine facsimile of

St. Lawrence’s Gate of Drogheda,

two great round towers connected by a massive arch on which are in letters of gold: ‘ Cead Mile Failte,’ while on smaller arches, serving as portals, in gold letters, are the words ‘ Shamrock Isle.’ Two silk flags fly from the towers —one the Stars and Stripes, the other Ireland’s green and gold. Passing through this gateway we face King John’s Castle of Limerick, a very striking example of Norman influence in the early struggles of Ireland. Its walls are ten feet thick, as solid as if built for Judgment Day. Nestled to the side of this massive castle is a row of characteristic cottages of varied sizes and colors, each one a picture in itself; looking within we are at once - impressed by their prettiness and order, and also by their striking contrast to the hideous libels in the so-called Irish villages of former exhibitions: dainty linen curtains set in the heavy . walled windows are drawn aside to display different wares for sale; sides of bacon are hanging .from the rafters ; the old skillet in the fireplace and the burning turf with its aromatic smoke helps more than anything else to give a real Irish atmosphere. In these cottages, from the stone floor to the attic not a feature is other than pure Celtic. Stepping out we will see a sturdy Irish boy with his -immortalised low-back car of song and story, and his little donkey trotting along while many eyes gaze upon him. And behind him, two rosy-cheeked colleens come ■riding merrily along in a donkey cart. Crossing the road we are in front of another row of cottages, covered with wall-flowers, marigolds, sweet peas, and many other flowers common in Ireland. Here we surely behold a picturea half doom here and a big knocker there, with charming variety to each little home; one of - stone- and slate, another of cement and pebbles, the colors of all set in delightful harmony, the thatch being done by expert thatchers brought over especially for this work. At the corner of this row will be a cottage of more than special interest, for this very same

Cottage is the Real Thing,

every precious bit from the stone floor to the jackdaw’s nest in the chimney top, every stone and bit of thatch, being shipped directly from a dismantled cottage in Ireland and rebuilt here. The interior fittings are complete in every detail, not an article missing: among them we see the sougan chairs, the settle bed, the old dresser, filled with Belleek china, and countless things for Irish eyes to feast upon. At the front door a Cork jingle or covered car awaits us for the drive on the incline road. Passing through the ruins of Donegal Castle we are soon before the entrance of Blarney, and find ourselves at an.

eminence of nearly 100 feet. Here a splendid panorama is spread before us from one castle to another. Crowds of people are patsing in and out. A troupe of Gaelic dancers is surrounded by a throng of people; above them Gaelic games are in progress, while jaunting cars and other picturesque vehicles busily go here and there; music and life and laughter lrish music and Irish —is everywhere ! Going through Blarney Castle we pass over Old Weir Bridge. A cascade of real water rushes under it, and in the distance is a pleasing view of Killarney's Lakes. Passing along, and crossing the Lion Bridge of Avoca we see the Wicklow Dargle in the distance. Our destination is the Giants’ Causeway.

Another Glorious Scenic Treat.

After a stop of about 15 minutes viewing the wonderful sea effects, the hexagons of stone, hearing the splashing of real watery sprays between these jagged rocks, the realistic murmur of the ocean in the distance, we go out by the main exit below, and come into the midst of a great market place, very similar to that of the city of Cork. Everywhere is noise and bustle; on the different stands girls direct from Ireland with their rosy cheeks and happy faces are ready to supply all-comers with treasures and keepsakes of Irish manufacture.

Across from this another line of lovely cottages draws our attention. A great castle stands back of threse. We see a tower over fifty feet high, on which the Irish flag is waving to the breeze. A facade flanked on the north side by this tower catches our eyes, and there a niche contains a nine-foot statue in bronze of the Main of Erin with the Wolf Dog.* Under this a large inscription in gold: O’Sullivan’s Animated Painting of Killarney,’ with the four provinces of Ireland represented on each corner, while in the centre is a great shield in green and gold of Erin’s- harp and shamrock. At the entrance a piece of exquisite Celtic design in braid work trims the doorway. - % Here one would expect, judging by the legend over the entrance, to see moving pictures; but, instead we find that we are in an art gallery with mammoth living paintings. A frame measuring about 20 feet by 14 feet encasing rich taleau curtains in green plush and gold shamrocks faces us as we enter. As these curtains part we see ‘ Innisfallen at Moonlight,’ a glorious summer night scene; — from behind the distant mountains slowly creeps a full moon, the sky sparkles with stars, the water picks the light from the moon, and as the curtains close we behold a picture of beauty that will live long in. one’s memory.

‘Again the curtains part and reveal ‘Ross Castle at Sunset,’ —a gorgeously illumined sky, an extreme contrast from the former scene. As the sun descends, the clouds show wonderful transitions in color, while on the castle the afterglow creeps slowly to the top. At the end of the scene, as the curtains move, we are struck by extraordinary effects in the shadows and rippling water. The scene de luxe is the storm scene in the Gap of Dunloe. A sunny sky quickly changes to cold gray clouds; the wind is heard in the distance; now it is on in fury, with flashes of lightning, and while the scene is very dark and cold, great thunder storms thrill the spectators. A feature of this remarkable picture is the electrical effect of moving sunlight across the Pass, and the falling of real rain as the curtains close. All of these pictures were painted from nature, and the effects are obtained by many electrical and mechanical devices of Mr. O’Sullivan’s own invention.