The Wexford Arts Festival and Festival Opera

The train journey from Bray to Wexford is quite the spectacle. In about ninety minutes, you traverse an evolving, fluid landscape. Long stretches of coastline, farming land, mountains, and autumnal forests. Dotted houses and buildings populate the regional towns. The train snakes along the picturesque Woodenbridge Golf Club close to Arklow, before meandering with the flow of the river Slaney through Enniscorthy on its way to Wexford town. Featured on BBC’s Great Train Journeys, first with Michael Palin and again, with Michael Portillo, this is the image of the route you would get if you simple cast your eyes out the window. However, this is something I didn’t do. With a rush of blood, I used most of the journey to draft, edit and publish an article. Once I was finished with it, I looked up – the train had arrived in Wexford and it was time to go. There’s always next time I thought – holding the return ticket in the palm of my hand.

Something I had noticed though on this journey, was the chugging of the carriage. The wheels bumped along and clattered the rails almost like a drumstick to a cymbal. Ambient sounds of chatter filled the air as I typed – as did the vortex of wind that whistled gently through the letterbox window above me. To call it noise, distraction or anything else like such wouldn’t feel right. The late spiritual teacher and thinker, Anthony DeMello would have described this composition of sounds as the Symphony of Life. Music, in whatever form, overt or subtle that it takes, was one of the features of my second journey down to Wexford, as the Arts Festival and Festival Opera in the town entered its closing week.

My second trip gave me the chance to take in more of the artwork on display. Tucked within the walls of the Wexford Arts Centre’s D’Lush Café, I saw a striking exhibit of work by Laura Breatnagh. As you walk into the café you’re greeted by vibrant colours, thick brush strokes and a childlike sensibility that radiates from the canvas. The café was booked up for the rest of the day, but that didn’t stop me from taking a few snaps! Across the way in the Annexe, I revisited Olivia O’Dwyer’s Lockdown Diaries exhibit. This time it was to take a closer look at her collection, depicting both a vulnerability and playfulness in acrylic paint.

I spent an afternoon invigilating for Mary Ruth Walsh’s exhibition Skin Deep in the Wexford Arts Centre, which I wrote about here. As gallery invigilator, your job is to be of assistance to the visitors and to gain some useful feedback from them. A contemporary, mixed media display with the themes of skin and architecture laced into the work, I initially thought the exhibit may lack accessibility to the wider viewing public. However, what I witnessed, from conversations with visitors, was that much of her work appealed to people, young, old and in between. Some of the feedback I received even made me reconsider my own interpretation of her work. It was a gentle reminder that it can be good to challenge what you think you know to be true about something.

Not long after, I headed to the Opera House for a lecture by acclaimed Wexford author, Colm Tóibín, marking the 70th edition of Wexford Festival Opera. Having studied some of his work in college, and knowing him as a very eloquent and thoughtful speaker, I looked forward to the talk. In the grand, opulent setting of the Opera theatre, Tóibín took to the stage to deliver a talk on classical music in literature. Most fascinating, was his observation on Wagner’s compositions in the works of Joyce – particularly Ulysses. For Tóibín, music was more than a theme – it was in fact a structural driving force sewn into the fabric of the story. I was fortunate enough to briefly chat with him afterwards and have him sign a copy of his new release The Magician.

Another highlight, was the Cáca Milis Cabaret, live at the Wexford Arts Centre. An eclectic mix of talent, the event offered us song, dance, poetry-reading, film and entertainment all-round. Carraig Rua, a trad-band, gave us a great Celtic, foot-tapping ensemble performance. Melanie O’Reilly, an accomplished jazz performer, took to the stage, a night after her successful one-woman show at the Arts Centre. The Ferry, a short film by Niall McKay and produced by Marrisa Aroy, made for a surprisingly funny and bittersweet viewing on the subject of Mother and Baby homes in Ireland. My favourite of the night was the performance by my 13 year old cousin and singer-songwriter, Lily Elizabeth. With a guitar in her hands and a voice of gold, she belted out her self-penned songs Training Sessions and Evangeline, standing out as a talent for the future.

Aside from artwork and entertainment, the most enjoyable part of my trip was meeting people both familiar and new. I found myself returning to the Creative Hub and mingling with artists I’d become acquainted with the week before – namely Bernadette Doolan, Olivia O’Dwyer and Anya von Gosseln. I met a good friend of mine from college, Greta, and was introduced to Karen and Ronan Sharkey, friends of my Aunt and Uncle, who couldn’t have been nicer people to spent time with. Overall, I’m grateful to have spent the past couple of weeks with my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin Lily. Their bed in a shed was the perfect homestead.

I mentioned before that I’d go to the Spiegeltent, on the Wexford docks – and I did. After the Cabaret finished, six of us plodded down the road in the late-night darkness. An Irish-Indie group, The Academic were performing inside. The music thumped amid the hissing of the wind and rain. Tired after a long day, we decided to opt-out, and head back home. The music may have dimmed as we walked, but the symphony of sounds played on and on.