An Irishman's Diary

IT’S SAID that the great Vincent Van Gogh sold only one painting in his lifetime. And it must have been the dizzying prospect of equalling his record that persuaded me to respond to a letter from the Irish Landmark Trust recently, seeking volunteers for a fundraising art project.

The other seductive thing about the invitation was that the masterpiece I was invited to create had been started already, courtesy of one of Ireland’s best known artists. There it was in the envelope: a numbered print signed by Robert Ballagh, featuring a hand in the act of drawing the beginnings of a landscape.

All I had to do was finish the landscape and add my signature. Then the print would be sold for a good cause and – inter alia – the line “professional artist” could be added to my CV. How could I resist? By way of a motif, the ILT helpfully suggested A Land of Milk and Honey. So my first thought was to elaborate on the implied biblical theme with a version of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel painting, the one with God, surrounded by angels, reaching down from heaven and infusing the hand of Adam with life.

It soon became clear, however, that I lacked several of the technical requirements for such a piece: paint, paint-brushes, artistic ability, etc. That was when I opted for plan B instead, and drew a cow.

Even this was easier said than done. In retrospect, I should probably have taken one of those old landscapes by Nathaniel Hone the Younger and just traced a cow onto the landscape. Whereas my artistic vision led me to attempt a bovine close-up, with a giant Friesian head reaching out of the land of milk and honey, in search of better grass on this side of the fence.

I hoped critics might find here a hidden message about the philosophical problem of desire. But even though I put everything I had into the picture – opposable thumb skills, graphite, those crayons the children scatter everywhere – my vision somehow escaped complete realisation by the time completed prints had to be returned.

Still, I wasn’t too worried. In an interview with this newspaper last year, Robert Ballagh said that, to him, “making art is about problem-solving”. So if you’re reading this, Bobby (I hope it’s okay to call you Bobby, now that we’re collaborators), I see my returned print as a problem, and you’re more than welcome to solve it.

After all, artistic collaboration need not be a two-step affair. Ideally, it should be more like a golfing foursome, with team-mates taking a series of alternate strokes. I’ve just taken the second shot, as it were, and the ball is now just off the fairway, albeit in a bad lie and stuck behind a tree. It’s your turn again, Bobby. Let me know when it’s time for the two-foot tap-in.

AS IT HAPPENS,the Irish Landmark Trust is also in the business of problem-solving. In its case, the problem is small buildings that are architecturally important but under threat because, for various reasons, they're difficult to live in permanently. The solution is for the trust – a registered charity – to take over the buildings on long leases, restore them sympathetically, and then keep them alive by renting them as holiday homes.

What can be impractical for everyday life, often, can make for a fun-filled week or weekend. So it is with one of the ILT’s more recent restorations, Wicklow Head Lighthouse, which now boasts six octagonal guest-rooms, stacked one above the other, with stunning sea views on three sides.

The verticality of the architecture is underlined by the fact that the kitchen is at the top of the tower, 109 steps up. And while this might recommend against the building as a permanent residence – not even the most hard-necked estate agent would claim it was “deceptively horizontal” – it only adds to its tourist appeal.

In fact, several of the trust’s properties are lighthouses. Less dramatic, though not necessarily less interesting, are the gate lodges and miniature castles that dominate the rest of the portfolio.

Other recent adoptions, meanwhile, include an 18th-century thatched cottage in Limerick, a rare, authentic example of the genre. So authentic, in fact, that the roof was about to collapse when the ILT was called in. The immediate threat has since been averted and the cottage is now in intensive care, pending long-term restoration.

Unfortunately, such work is costly and, as is the case everywhere else, official funds have been shrinking. Hence such novel money-raising ideas as the Ballagh print sale, which takes place at the Royal Hibernian Academy, Dublin, between 6pm and 9pm tonight. The good news is that 150 people completed pictures before the deadline, including Rosanna Davison, Gay Byrne, Joe Duffy, John Magnier, Mick Wallace, and many others. Worryingly (for some of us), it seems that quite a few of those who returned prints were accomplished artists – this newspaper’s cartoonist Martyn Turner among them. In any case, the results are all on sale for a suggested €200 each.

You can buy in person (RSVP dorothyellen@irishlandmark.

com) or by telephone (087-2915812 and ask for Julie). But art dealers are warned that the diarist’s attempted masterpiece is unlikely to be available for purchase. One possibility is that Robert Ballagh will be performing restorative work on it. Failing that, the picture is likely to be snapped up at 6.01pm today, by a mystery phone bidder who needs to spend more time with it.