Irish Architecture: Empty Rural Buildings

Spotted in rural Ireland on a road trip to the midlands.

 

Architecture Without Architects: Sand Martins

Beautiful work by these amazing little birds. They are a joy to watch. Check out the excavated dust at the bottom of the picture.

Abandoned Manor Farm, Finland.

In January 2013, before returning to Ireland after christmas holidays visiting Hanna’s parents, we spent a few days with Hanna’s brother who lives near Urjala in the South of Finland. He took us on a walk of the land surrounding his rural home. A local feature in the vicinity was an abandoned farmstead: A cluster of empty timber buildings on a raised plot of land overlooking a small winding river and a vast plain of flat land. Instead of the usual sounds of birds, animals, and activity, this farm was filled only with the sound of silence, interrupted by our footsteps in the snow, and an icy winter wind.

On approach: Access to the farmstead was across a small bridge which spanned the almost frozen river.

The farmstead wasn’t totally abandoned; beehives were arranged outside one of the buildings.

The effects of time are clearly visible on this agricultural building.

Typical example of traditional Finnish rural architecture.

The surrounding plain with Birch forest in the distance.

A silent overgrown courtyard lit up by vibrant red berries.

After roaming around between the buildings for a while, we took a walk through a small forest which covered a nearby knoll. Kalle – Hanna’s brother – explained to us how Lynx climb the trees and lie in wait for passing deer, and then pounce on the unsuspecting mammals. Using his tracking skills he then showed us some recent Lynx footprints. Shortly after this discovery, we turned towards home, and our pace quickened, despite the knee deep snow.

Thatched Cottages of Kilmore Quay, Ireland.

Kilmore Quay is a picturesque fishing village In the South East of Ireland. One of the things that makes the village so scenic is the number of traditional thatched cottages. Most of these cottages date back to the 18th & 19th century, and are of national historical importance.

Visiting Clare Island

Two months has passed since visiting Clare Island in the west of Ireland: It seems like years. I first visited the island thirty years ago. My memories are vague, but I remember spending the night there after my great uncle – an island resident, and lighthouse keeper – insisted we spend the night.

Looking back to the mainland as we head towards the Island; the scenery was spectacular.

Local Architecture; new and old. If walls could talk!

Home, sweet (temporary) home. One thing I really loved about Clare Island was the fact that there were no manicured lawns anywhere. The small areas of land that were not in use for sheep grazing or agriculture were used to grow vegetables and herbs by, and for, the residents.

The younger kids didn’t appreciate the 3km walk we made – on more than one occasion – daily.

Amazing scenery: Original potato drills from the famine era are still visible.

The impressive Croagh Patrick across Clew Bay in the distance. 

Traditional Currachs used for fishing in Clew Bay.

A few days before our arrival, a local man lost his life while using a currach similar to those in the photo. It was the first drowning on the island in 90 years, and the atmosphere was very solemn. The water was pretty choppy for August; I can only imagine how rough it gets during the stormy winter months.

We spent one full day on the beach – from low tide to high tide. It was possibly the best day we had all summer; 25C degrees, blue skies, no wind, and crystal clear waters. I swam more that day than I did during June and July.

Our point of departure/arrival on the mainland, with Clare Island’s distinct profile in the background.

I can’t wait to go back to Clare Island – ideally I would like to spend a full year there to experience the four seasons, and immerse myself in the islanders life. Until then, Clare Island, you remain in my thought and dreams.

Vernacular Unspectacular #2

Following on from my recent Vernacular Unpectacular posting, I was pointed – during a tutorial – in the direction of Raymond Moore, photographer; a man who in his own words tried to photograph “the magic that lies beneath the surface of things”.

The photographs below were taken prior to looking at Raymond Moore’s work, which is really interesting and challenging.

When I set out to document these rural vernacular buildings, I didn’t fully think about what exactly I was photographing. I guess there was some hidden desire to try and capture a sense of place, a sense of the history, some kind of resonant energy,  and its entirely probable that these images also reflect some inner state of being at the time of pushing the button.