48 Hours, 48hourmagazine, 48 hour magazine by 48 hours magazine

What did you do this weekend? 39 people, 1 Magazine, 48 Hours

04 the market 8.00pm

contents 15 different life

11 interviews

22 blue teapot theatre company

30 gugai interview

34 night fashion

night fashion

44 short story â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;the pursuit of loveâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; & ligh

50 guerilla gardening

58 dvd review

60 book review

52 life on a canvas

64 contributors

16 graffiti

ht painting

56 food

67 sign off

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Dave RUFFLES

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10 minutes with…

(past)

GARY McMAHON Community and Enterprise Administrative Officer

What is your earliest memory of the arts in Galway? What has been the greatest thing to happen in Galway artistically? “This is a tough one and it would have to be between The Arts Festival and Druid. If I was pushed to it I would have to go with Druid.” What is your happiest memory of the arts in Galway? “Probably my happiest memory is when I acted in the play ‘Treasure Island’ out in Leisureland. I got to play a pirate and there was all sorts going on with sword fighting and the likes. But if I

“One of the earliest memories I have is going to see a musical version of ‘The Playboy of the Western World’ with my father. I remember I was only 11 and my father ducked out for a pint for the second half across the road but I waited on!” Which artist/actor or poet left you with the best memory? “It would have to be Rod Goodall, a local working actor around Galway. He played both Edmund and Edgar in King Lear that was staged during the Arts

Festival. He played the two brothers on the stage at the same time and it was just exceptional.” How have important artistic developments shaped Galway? “The arts have definitely shaped people’s perception of they perceive Galway to be. It is known as the capital of the west and for its beautiful scenery. It is known as being the cultural capital but this is only a tiny percentage of what is happening in Galway. But yes the arts definitely add to our reputation.” What are your feelings on Cream Crackers? “To be honest I don’t really like them. They leave me with an awful dry taste in my throat!” Saturday 2.01pm

Photo: Reg GORDON

Lisa REGAN

was to answer the question in relation to the people of Galway I would say it would have been the Macnas parade of 1990/1991. The theme was the spirit of the sea that year and there was so much going on from Padraic Breathnach painted in blue to a fake marriage ceremony down in the Claddagh.”

10 minutes with…

(present)

AIDEEN BARRY Visual Artist

What do you think are the most exciting projects going on in Galway at the moment? “I think the 126 project space is one of the most exciting, based in the Queen Street area. It is an artist led initiative and space made up of over 100 artists who have put themselves out there and curated their own shows etc. They’re running shows; they’re doing festivals, a bit of everything really. It’s great because it’s getting artists to question what they see and what they need out of Galway in the future. There have been some really braver steps by artists in the city recently and they are making the city their own.” Given the current recession, many people seem to believe that funding to sectors such as arts should be the first to be cut. What are your views on this? “I think in some circles the arts are seen as a kind of ‘bourgeois excess’ but I 12

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think we need an acknowledgement that without the arts, we actually don’t really have an identity to sell ourselves internationally. The arts is the one area of the economy that was recently identified as growing in the recession, for every euro that is invested, two euro is returned to the economy so I think its important that this is recognized and supported.” On the ground, what type of an affect has the recession made on the arts scene in Galway? “I have noticed while giving evening classes myself that you get a lot of people who have been made unemployed and where they may not have had the opportunity in the past, they are now trying something experimental like animation or film or things like that. There is a kind of resurgence in the number of people claiming to be artists and a lovely kind of demystification process going on at the moment, which I think is great.”

Marie MADDEN

Galway is often scene as one of the country’s leading cultural centres; do you think the city deserves this reputation? “I’m twelve years in Galway and I came here under the auspice that it was a city of the arts. It has always been promoting this and that it supports all sectors of the arts but in reality, it doesn’t. It sometimes falls short of this big banner and I think it needs to better recognize the good will and good investment that artists have given free of charge to the city. The

art is here but a lot of the background support isn’t. There is a definite need for something like a municipal gallery in the city. Who, in your opinion, are the most inspiring artists in the city right now? “I think the 126 collective because of their gumption and sheer ‘get up and go’ to make things happen in visual arts. Also, artists such as Dorothy Cross, Alice Maher, Louise Manifold and my graduates from the GMIT design course who have gone on and developed their practice. One of which would be Ann Marie Healy who has gone to curate a project at Bar No8. I think they’re heroes.” As an arts teacher, have you seen a big difference in the way art is being taught?

What is the most interesting project that you are working on at the moment? “I’m actually going to be taking on a residency on a ship and curating a show on a floating space. It’s a publicly owned ship and will be traveling around Ireland so the public can go

on and see but that’s all I can tell you about it at the moment!” Where would be your favourite exhibition space in Galway? “It gone I’m afraid! I really wanted to try a project in the giant tankers by the Docks and try to do a videoart installation with an opera in the actual tanker itself. They just look so space age yet people just walk by them everyday. So I wanted to bring

these into the public psyche and turn the idea of what they are on its head. But unfortunately now they’ve been destroyed!” And finally, tell us something random about yourself! “I want to go to space! I’ve actually gone to NASA and trained as an astronaut so I suppose I’ve gotten a bit farther than most people but I’m still a long way off, hopefully someday though!” Saturday 3.20pm

Photo: Mark CONLON

“Yeah I definitely have. There is more discourse and equality which is much more healthy.”

10 minutes with…

(future)

BEN GEOGHEGAN Visual Artist - Artspace studios

Hilary MARTYN

Is Galway good for fostering the arts? “Galway is arty. A large part of this can be attributed to NUIG - Padraic Breatneach, Ollie Jennings and Mike Diskin are all graduates of the University. They helped create Galway’s renowned reputation.” What do you feel is the present state of the arts in Galway? “The arts are struggling, but in face of that struggle it is still very vibrant. There is always more that can be done 14

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Do you feel that, in order for arts to grow in Galway, it should be controlled or organic? “Arts, by its nature, has to be organic. The arts simply cannot be dictated to. It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey.” However, can it be very difficult for artists to be heard in Galway, for instance, in relation to funding? “It is always easy to back a winner, whereas smaller groups can struggle. The arts office has a tough job to deal with the diverse disciplines. The more people working in the arts office, the more holistic view that can be taken of the arts in Galway.”

So how does the future look? “The future for the arts in Galway is good, as long as people are flexible and creative around inevitable funding issues and ideological clashes. The Average Arts Collective (whereby it calls on premises’ owners to give their space free of charge to arts groups) is a very good initiative. Space is always an issue. It is also integral to the tourism industry. There is a great structure for the visual arts in Galway. There’s a small, intimate arts school and an independent artist lead gallery. That structure means that the wdeep and rich body of artists can exist and work. But it’s really important for Galway to sustain it. People can nurture and support each other.”

Photo: Reg GORDON

to help the arts. It’s an ideological position. For example, Mary Hanafin’s supposed ‘demotion’ to arts. It’s seen as demotion, but I would consider it a promotion to one of the most important briefs.”

A different life

By day, she works on Eglington Street selling all the beauty products that L’Occitane has to offer but by night, she spins the decks around various haunts in Galway City. How did you get involved in DJing? “I was always interested from an early age. There was no real scene in Galway for the music I play so I just decided one day to just do it!” How do you find playing in Galway?

DJ Kit Kola L’Occitane employee and DJ “I love it because it doesn’t matter if the audience doesn’t know the music, when they hear it they just love it. It is so lively and out there. I play in Massimo, Roisin Dubh and once a month, I play a club night in The Cellar called ‘Bad to the Bone’.” So how did you go about getting these DJing gigs? “I played my first gig in the Blue Note. I just went in and asked if I could I play a set.

They obliged and then from there, it just grew. I played at Electric Picnic last year, which was great exposure. I just love the music and I love playing.” Is every night different? “I love playing everywhere in Galway as the people that go to the places I play in are so different. So the night and the vibes are so completely brilliantly different.” By Lisa Regan Saturday 7.23pm

Graffiti

GRAFFITI

Graffiti

Graffiti Baqsr “IT’S GOING WELL, THIS IS JUST A BASE LAYER, SOON IT’LL BE MORE BAM, IN YOUR FACE, NOONE COULD PASS BY WITHOUT NOTICING”

Colin McCABE

1.00pm Saturday afternoon on typically vibrant Shop Street. The city is buzzing with shoppers, charity volunteers sing songs and shake their buckets in time with a drum circle which has sprung up further down the street. Three artists meet up outside the old dilapidated building that once housed Taaffes’ shop. Baqsr and Dusto from the R.T.M Crew, (Rattles The Most - work it out) join forces with local artist Margret Nolan. They share a common vision - permission has been granted and they eye up the old shop front with anticipation, this main street eyesore is their blank canvas. 16

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DUSTO “THIS IS COOL, A CHANCE TO PAINT ON THE MAIN STREET”

48 hour Graffiti Indredients: Paint, sandwiches & coca-cola

MARGRET “THE THEME IS THE HISTORY OF THE BUILDING, WITH MRS TAAFFE IN THE DESIGN”

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Baqsr

Photos: Mark CONLON / Boyd CHALLENGER

“DELIGHTED WITH THE SPACE, EVERYWHERE IS GRAY GRAY GRAY, BUT WHAT WE DO IS COLOURFUL”

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blueteapot company for performers with learning disabilities and after five minutes watching their rehearsal, I am blown away by the passion, skill and hard work of all concerned.

Marie MADDEN

“Stand there, looking three years old, feeling sorry for yourself”. These are the first words I hear arriving at Blue Teapot Theatre Company’s premises on Munster Avenue. But rather than someone throwing a tantrum, the company is hard at work rehearsing for its June production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and director Poppy Pilley is helping one of the company’s talented cast. Established in 2006, Blue Teapot has blossomed into a professional theatre

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A fusion of love, magic and good old-fashioned comedy, A Midsummers Night’s Dream will begin its run in Galway this June. Here’s a sneak peek of what to expect… “I play Helena, who is in love with Demetrius but he loves Hermia instead so she spends most of the play chasing him! She’s a sad character from the start but it’s a great role.” – Charlene Kelly “We have great fun in rehearsals. Patrick (Becker), who plays Nick Bottom in the play, always has us laughing! Most of us have been acting for a few years so we don’t get nervous anymore, we’re used to it. Charlene gets terrible stage fright though!” – Frank Butcher

“

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It’s tough at the beginning because of the language in Shakespeare but once the cast got to know the story and understand the different roles, they have really taken it on board and made it their own.” – Poppy Pilley, Artistic Director “Everybody works so hard but it’s so rewarding for all of us. There are only Poppy and myself on staff so we’re kept busy but we try to keep it to a high profession level. We’re lucky because we have some great people working with us such as costume designer Charmian Goodall and Brendan Savage, who also created the Swan Ship during the Volvo Ocean Race.” – Kathy Murphy, Administrator “Through the power of a performance we can achieve what hours of lecturing and reading dry literature about social integration cannot. We use the power of laughter and mischief to open up a new world where every person has their part to play.”

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Photos: Reg GORDON

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If you weren’t in music where do you think you’d be?

That’s the thing I have nightmares about. I wake up sweating.

talking to the gugman... We are chatting in a nice Galway hotel and it occurs to me while we are talking that this is one of the rare times I have ever seen the man in front of me sitting down. And I see this man a lot. Whenever I see him he always seems to be going somewhere; going somewhere to do something important. My father used to say to me,”No matter how things are with you, always look as though you’re going somewhere to do something important.”, never an easy thing to do

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when you have a Himalayan hangover and are wishing for death, but sound advice nevertheless. My father would have loved Gugai. And I’m quite fond of him too, so this interview might give some readers a sugar fit. So what! Better that than an attack of the horrors of reading about bishops. I think it’s important for me to say why I’m fond of this man of music. It’s because he has a sense of justice and

Mark Kennedy

fair play. He stood up for me one time when he might easily not have done and he gave me a chance to show that

I was not the pain-in-the-ass a lot of people had told him I was. (Well, not as much a pain-in-the-ass anyway.) My experience is that when you are talking to someone who knows a lot about what you know only a little about it’s always better to let them do the talking. So I let the Gugman talk, but only after I had asked him the question most people want answered I think: “Where does the nickname come from and what the hell is it supposed to mean.” “I was born a twin. My sister, known affectionately to my family as’ the good twin’ (he laughs, laving to imagine what the opposite of ‘good twin’ is) had lots of hair when we were born and I was bald. So my Donegal mother called me Gugai, ‘gug’ being a West of Ireland term for an egg.” What this means to me is that, at last, we have found John Lennon’s ‘eggman’; it’s the Gugman himself; Galway’s treasure and Limerick’s loss. Gugai was born there, came to Galway to do college, loved music more than college, put on a charity gig booking the bands and getting it all together and then, as he says,” I had my epiphany (look it up in Joyce). It hit me that this was the work I wanted to do; no doubts, no fears, crystal clear. This was it for me! Gigs and bands, bands

and gigs. I am the first in my family ever to have taken up work in the music business. Naturally my parents were, shall, we say, puzzled (much nicer word than ‘horrified’) but when they came and saw what I did in Galway then they knew too that music is the right trade for me.” I asked him what he would think if his two children, Isabella, aged eleven, and Osgur, aged three, told him they wanted to quit school and go into the music business. He told me that he half- expected Isabella to do that because she trawls through all his compilations while they are in the car together, searching for where he gets the titles for his them, they are always titled with a line from a song – latest is,”Moving out to the West” a song by Surfer Blood, (ask him for a copy, you might be lucky.) He tells a little story about Isabella which might well be a sign that she will follow her Dad into the sparkling nights of gigs and bands; “When Isabella was in the crèche she wouldn’t let other kids into the sandpit unless the were on the guest list.” Of Osgur he said,”His only way to rebel against me and my way of life would be to become insurance actuarial.” Horrible thought! Gugai continues,” I have just come

back from Texas, from the South-bySouth West gig. It’s massive musical showcase over five days. Two thousand bands ‘official’ and maybe a thousand more playing anywhere they can to get noticed. I’m still trying to process the number and quality of what I saw and heard.The band that stood out for me was,” The Middle East”. I had heard them but never seen them and really wanted to. The exceeded all my hopes and expectations. I really want to bring them to Galway They are a bit like,” Fee Foxes” who are headlining this year’s EP. I’ll be bringing them to Galway in July”. He wants to talk about the music scene in Galway and sparkles with enthusiasm when he does. (I might just say here that Reg the Wretched, ace photographer and aspiring editor (talk about hidden agendas) has limited me to one thousand words so look out for sudden ends) “The music scene in Galway has progressed in leaps and bonds over the last, say, six or seven years. More musicians, more bands, more enthusiasm for them locally, more live music venues and gigs across the city. The bands are more confident in themselves now. And this is because of the revolution in recording technology. Now bands can write, produce, and record and then tour their own Saturday 3.32pm

albums. The are not so helpless and dependent on being picked up by record companies now to give them a start. Bands can be self-starting now. And that’s a great thing.It’s vital for the health of music and of bands that there be, at the start at least, less dependency on record labels. A lot of bands create their own record labels. Of course distribution for their albums is what they have to crack. But the have the NET now and that’s the brave new world of music. I love to see the Galway bands progress and I do everything I can to give them gigs for live audience experience. Bands like, The Kanyu Tree, Blaster Bra, The Ralphs The Coonics, Lost Chord, A Band Called Wanda, Emmet Scanlan, the Followers of Otis, Fumes and Corpses…”

So, last words from the Gugman. ‘I love Galway. I know you hear a lot of talk about how great it is, but the talk is true. And you’ve heard it before, it’s the people, their friendliness and openness and love of partying that 32

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Photos by: Reg Gordon

He will go on and name more bands if I let him and use up all of Reg the Wretched’s one thousand word’s limit. Which he has done actually since it’s now thousand and fifty two. But hell, who cares about Reg the Wretched, I come from Bohermore, I can take him any time.

makes the place somewhere bands especially want to come back to. I’ve brought bands here who have world reputations and they go way talking about Galway for the rest of their tours. They love it! When the money talk is over, what gets the great bands here is the place, the people, the sea, the air, the beautiful girls (second only to Limerick girls); what more could a band want. We make them feel at home here. Tours can be deadly for bands, get up, rehearse, do the gig, get on the bus, over and over and over. The thing about Galway is that when they see the life here it’s hard to get them back on the bus. Plenty more to come too.” One final question to the Gugman; “What’s your real name?” Answer;”Gugai”is my real name, the name my mother gave me. The other name is for tax purposes only and I only tell that to the taxman.”* M.K. *Shhhhhh, the tax name is Eoin McNamara: synchronicity (look it up in Jung) or what! PS The Gugman’s favourite writer is: to find out get in touch with Reg the Wretched. Free pint to first thousand answers, right or wrong. Reg will pay the tab. Saturday 3.32pm

Reg GORDON

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Fashion by GTI Design students Ciara Murray Styling & Fashion Design Contributor Tonnette Costello Styling & Fashion Design Contributor Ann-Marie Greaney Make Up & Fashion Design Contributor Helen Kenny Hair Amy Finnerty Hair Ellen Greaney Make Up Yvonne Keane CatwalkModels.ie Rose McNena CatwalkModels.ie Catherine Rabbitt Model

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n the eve of his thirteenth birthday, Duncan Callery wrote in his diary, “My whole, entire life will, from this moment on, be devoted to the Pursuit of Love.” He paused, and surveyed the bedroom in which he wrote, and winced, deciding that his Simpson’s wallpaper would have to go, for how could any self-respecting Cassanova seduce a wench with millions of fat Homers eating doughnuts and gleefully strangling Bart all over his walls? His poster that comes free when you join the Dinosaur Roar club would have to go too, as would his Kermit the Frog quilt-cover. And his tot-sized tennis racket, his collection of rocks, and his lego-box that was added to every Christmas. He sighed. Duncan went downstairs and into the small kitchen, where his mother sat, guiltily smoking a cigarette. She hastily stubbed it out, and raised a tired face to Duncan as he approached. “Mum, can I re-paper my room?” he

asked. His mother hesitated, thinking “where the hell will I find the money for that?” but, looking at her son’s pale, pinched, serious little face, she relented. “And I want a quilt-cover-something mature. Something suave,” said Duncan, turning to leave. She agreed, although she wasn’t exactly sure what “suave” meant. They agreed to go shopping next Saturday. “Yessss!!!” hissed Duncan under his breath, punching the air and clearing the stairs two at a time as he ran back up to his room. “THE WHEELS OF CHANGE HAVE BEEN SET IN MOTION!”, he wrote in large, heavily shaded capitals. “Yessss!!” The next morning, Duncan got up for school, full of the anticipation a person can feel only when they know that their life has changed utterly, and for the better. He had made a conscious decision to respond to the urges of puberty. To shape his destiny and prevent his joining the ranks of spotty,

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aimless, moody teenagers who hunched, hands in pockets, kicking stones, driven out of their sweaty bedrooms and away from their computers by harried, squawking mothers. He would become a sophisticate. A…Ladies Man. He showered quickly but carefully, paying particular attention to his hands, and soaping them with extra care. He now believed that females were attracted to a man with deft, strong, and above all, intelligent hands. And as far as he was concerned, intelligent hands were what he had. He also dressed painstakingly. “You are what you wear, “ he said to himself, knotting his father’s silk tie, the one he wore to infrequently attended weddings, under his chin. He surveyed himself in the full length mirror in his sister’s bedroom. He drooped slightly, but quickly drew himself up to his full height (five foot two and a VERY important half). No room for feelings of inferiority! Drive the blade home! He emerged, whistling. Duncan’s mother dropped him off at school on her way to work, careful to park around the corner and out of sight, as all well-trained parents do. As she pulled up to the pavement she observed him from the corner of her eye and thought, not for the first time, how she really wasn’t sure who this stranger was, this interloper, who had taken the place of her happy, galloping, raggle-taggle boy.

He opened the door and got out, closing the car door with his hip. “Ciao”, he murmured, as he set off towards the school gates. “Ciao?” she wondered, pulling away, “Ciao?” Duncan entered the school, nodding pompously to his best friend of eight years, and strolled casually to his locker. He opened it and took out his books, hurriedly ripping down the Garfield poster that hung on the inside of the door. He stuffed it in to his pocket and went to his first class. During his French class, when the teacher was desperately trying to explain why the French drink cocoa in the mornings, Duncan contemplated changing his first name. “Raymond”, he thought. “Or Steve. How about Rob? Or Salvatore? Anything but Duncan!” He also thought about what colour his new wallpaper would be. “A beige,” he thought, “with just a hint of Champagne? A soft blue, reminiscent of a summer’s day in New Mexico?” Duncan was not a very good looking boy. He was not especially clever, or talented at anything. He did not like sports, and was definitely not good at them. He was short for his age, and carried a bit of puppy fat. His hair was brown, (a very bland brown) and thick. Too thick. It stood up in little tufts on top of his head. He did, however, have nice eyes. They were dark brown, with long, long lashes. But nobody seemed to

Jenny O’COnnell

notice, and, altogether, he did not have girls giggle over him. At least, not in quite the way he would have liked. He gazed round at all the girls in his class. He was in a good position to do this, sitting as he was at the very back in the middle row. He examined their hair, the backs of their necks, the width of their shoulders. When a girl occasionally turned around to whisper to a friend, or borrow a pencil, he examined their faces. At last, he came to the conclusion that none of the girls in his French class were worthy of his love. Every class that day was passed in the same way: examining the girls, mentally noting every defect he imagined they had, imagining his room when it was finished, and picturing himself and a beautiful woman running along a moonlit beach laughing, him picking her up easily and swinging her around, her splashing him with water and giggling, and them both finally falling to the sand… He got three detentions for not paying attention and one thousand lines for Sunday 10.14am

winking at Heather Joyce and making “obscene gestures”, as the teacher called his pointing first to himself and then to Heather, and inclining his head knowingly. After a week of examining, imagining, winking, and detentions, he finally alighted upon Sarah Spencer as the object worthy of his affections. He wrote her an anonymous letter, telling her he would really like to “get to know her better,” and that he found her “dusky, come-to-bed eyes fascinating.” “That’s

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just to get her wondering!” he wrote that night in his diary, hugging himself with excitement and mugging at himself in the mirror. On Saturday, Duncan and his mother went to choose some new wallpaper. Having visited sixteen shops, and some one hundred and three patterns later, he finally decided on a pale grey shade with pastel green bamboo shoots printed in strategic places around the sheets. “Suitably suave, “he thought, delighted, and “and also suitably evocative of nights

away from home.” He chose a red (for passion) duvet cover, and lugged home his purchases, full of glee. He was going to create a boudoir like no other’s! On Monday, Duncan watched Sarah for signs of her being transported by delight, anticipation and thrilling wonder. Except for dropping her English books, she seemed remarkably composed. He deposited another note in her locker, this time signing it D.C. He felt quite daring as he pushed it through the grille. Oh, the thrill of it all!

He spent that night supervising his bemused father as he hung his new wallpaper, bustling around his bedroom, smoothing his red quilt cover and arranging a few select books, borrowed from the bookshelf in the sitting room, on the shelf which had previously housed a vast and comprehensive collection of dinosaurs. He looked over and over again at Sarah’s phone number in the phone book, and contemplated calling her. “I am in anguish!” he wrote. “When

to reveal myself?” He went to bed, keyed up and unable to sleep. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, he sat bolt upright. He switched on the light, and wrote in his diary, “Tomorrow! I’ll do it tomorrow!” He turned off the light and fell, finally, into a dreamless, exhausted sleep. At school the next day, Duncan hovered beside Sarah’s locker, his heart pounding. It wasn’t because he didn’t know what to say- he had prepared his speech over

breakfast-but because he was afraid she might, he thought weakly, “...insist I express my love for her here? In school? In a..a…CARNAL way?” He blushed fiercely, and forced himself to stand there. At last, he saw her approach. He smiled bravely in anticipation, and stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Sarah!” he croaked. “It was me!” Sarah stared. “What?” she said. “Huh?” Duncan smiled at her, desperately. “It

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was me who sent the letters ” he said, stepping forward. “Oh!” gasped Sarah, groaning inwardly. “You?” Duncan attempted to take her hand. “I meant everything I said “ he began. By now, a small crowd of other first years had gathered. Duncan was aware of a ringing in his ears, as sweat began to form at the roots of his hair. The crowd leaned forward as one, sensing the total and utter annihilation of one of their weaker members. This was going to be good. Thank God it wasn’t one of them…

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Luckily, Sarah was a kind girl. She dealt with the whole unpleasant situation as well as a thirteen year old who has been confronted by an ugly boy declaring undying love for her could. She turned to the crowd and said “fuck off.” Then she turned to Duncan. “I’m going out with someone. He’s older than you.” It wasn’t true, of course, but what else could she have done? She directed a look of pure fury at Duncan, and stalked off through the crowd. Duncan stared at his feet. The crowd, disappointed, laughed uncertainly, but by now the moment had passed. The bell rang and, sensing his

opportunity, Duncan fled in the direction of the toilets. “My love belongs to another”, wrote Duncan, sitting frog-like on the toilet seat. “Unrequited love! Such is the price of experience! Now, I suppose, I have to Pine.” He decided that a suitably mournful place to pine properly would be outside of her bedroom window, where he could gaze wistfully at the place his love resided and, possibly, if he got up the nerve, he could hum her a wee heartrending ditty. He crept off into the night. How was he to know that, since her bedroom looked out on to nothing but a spacious back garden, she never closed her curtains as she got ready for bed? How was he to know that the dog’s dinner bowl, toothed round the edges, would be lying in a place where he was sure to trip over it? How was he to know that she would be undressing the very moment he arrived? And how was he to know that, having heard him roar in pain as he tripped over Bouncer’s bowl, Sarah’s father would assume him to be a prowler-slash-peeping tom? And how was he to know that, because of innocently wanting to pine, (in peace), he would be hauled off to the police station at the tender age of thirteen and accused of being a learner- pervert? He was driven sternly home and parked immediately in his boudoir. When the two police men had left, and

his mother had come into his room to remind him just how lucky he was that his father wasn’t home (but that he would hear about it), and how COULD he, she saw the corner of a book peeping out from underneath Duncan’s bed, where he lay, sobbing. A book with a pink cover. She knelt down, and picked it up. She read the title, “Love Legacy” and looked at the picture on the cover: a woman, breasts spilling from her bodice, pulling away from a brooding , bare-chested man in jodhpurs and riding boots, standing in front of an open window, curtains billowing… She bent down and peered under the bed, and pulled out another. “Summer Lovin’” she read. And another. And another… the pile grew. “So this is where your sister’s books have been disappearing to!” she said. “No wonder you been acting weird lately. Reading women’s romances! Gone to your head!” “Weirdly”, Duncan said, sitting up and wiping his eyes. “Weirdly!” “What?” said his mother, stalking out of his room, laden down with novels. “What are you talking about?” “WIERDLY!” Duncan screamed, as she shut the door. “It’s not “acting WEIRD”, it’s “acting weird-LY!!”” My mother is a pleb, “ wrote Duncan when he felt better. “She can’t even speak properly. Typical.”

Photography by: Mark CONLON

Sunday 12.33pm

Saturday 9.32pm

Gardening New York in the 1970’s . Liz Christy and her environmental action group the “Green Guerrillas” take a vacant lot and without permission plant flowers, herbs and vegetables, transforming it into a community garden. Guerrilla gardening was born. From their underground gardening roots, tossing “seed bombs” and turning unused space into flowerbeds and vegetable patches, pioneers of the movement, the Green Guerrillas have grown into a non-profit group that has helped organize over 600 community gardens in New York alone.

In October 2004 guerrilla gardening was given new life on this side of the pond when 28 year old Englishman Richard Reynolds, unhappy with the surroundings of his new tower block home in the Elephant and Castle area of London began an Internet blog detailing his own undercover gardening activities. Richard has since written a book on the subject, aptly titled “On Guerrilla Gardening” explaining the ideology and encouraging others to get involved. These days guerrilla gardening is practiced all over the world, it is a

force for positive change and for whatever reason people get involved they are invariably making the world a prettier place, teaching people about sharing and using public space, questioning the way in which we view ownership of the land around us. Galway city, Saturday night, a small group of green fingered activists set out under cover of darkness. On an otherwise unused space lying dormant beside garden-less apartment blocks, soil is turned over, flowers are planted and in 30 well planned minutes a little piece of the world we all share is made better. Saturday 9.32pm

Photos: Boyd CHALLENGER / Reg GORDON

Colin McCAY

Life on canvas

With such a high tech project... there is a gap for a sense of tradition and craft... i hope to fill it with painting and the subject matter of the Galway market trader Doughnut Dan... one of Galwayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s many flamboyant and well known characters... with a wee nod to Manetâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s A Bar at the Folies-Bergere...

MARKUS MMV... 52

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Photos by: Reg Gordon & Mark Conlon

Friday midnight Slow roast shoulder of pork (should feed about 40!)

Enda McEvoy

Chris Stewart

Rather than a ranty polemic about the state of the pork industry in Ireland or a moan about the fact that there is little incentive for veg growers to grow, Chris and I decided to cross our fingers and hope that these issues will soon become redundant and instead focus on something positive. Through the work of fantastic producers such as Brendan Allen in Castlemine Farm in Roscommon, who 56

Sunday 3.20pm

What you need: • Shoulder of free range pork

supplied us with beautiful free range pork, and Stephen Gould, who supplied us with some of the finest herbs and salad I’ve seen in my career, the food industry in Ireland is changing for the better. So here are some suggestions as to how you would feed the magazine crew at the 48Hour offices with our country’s greatest produce.

• Five tablespoons each of fennel seeds, coriander seeds and white peppercorns • A big handful of sea salt First, skin the pork and score the fat. Then toast the spices seperately and grind coarsley. This is important due to the differing oil content of seeds. Massage the spices and salt into the pork.

How to cook: Place on a rack with a tray underneath to collect all the lovely juices that will be released from the meat. Roast for 12 hours at 100C. Saturday midday (ish) Pull (or shred) the pork and place the juices in the fridge to set the fat. Incorporate some of the fat and the jelly into the pork to suit your taste before mixing some parsley, capers and cornichons into the meat. Apple & fennel remoulade How to prepare: Grate two bulbs of fennel and two

apples into a bowl and bind with homemade mayonnaise. Add chopped dill and season to finish. How to serve: Take your floury baps and place a big spoon of pork and some remoulade on the bap. Top with land cress or watercress and serve with your favourite soup, we find parsnip and chilli goes down well. Now dig in! Cooking and recipies by Enda McEvoy and Chris Stewart

Photography: Boyd Challenger

Sunday 3.20pm

MADMEN Welcome to the world of Madmen, where the men are fuelled by drink and sex and the women are objects to be exploited.

Claire CURTIS

The show is set in Manhattan in the early 1960’s and centres around the life of Don Draper, a smooth talking, creative director and partner at Sterling Cooper Advertising. Don is husband to Betty Draper, a pretty, college graduate who looks after their three children while he works late nights at the office. Unknown to Betty, Don is perusing a number of woman and engaging in extramarital affairs. This however is not the biggest secret Don is harbouring. Don Draper was born as Dick Whitman. During an era where America is caught up in maintaining a respectable front, Don tries to hide his secret and goes through extremes to do so. Don’s relationship with his secretary,

Saturday 10.05pm

Peggy Olson is fascinating. Peggy seems to understand Don more so than his own wife. This may have something to do with her overhearing many of Dons private conversations but after time he seems to grow to respect Peggy as an equal, and promotes her to copywriter. Peggy’s quirky character makes it easy for us to forgive her affair with Pete Campbell. Pete works for the agency in Account Management and is highly ambitious. Unhappy at home and uncomfortable at work, Pete tries to climb the ranks at the agency, stepping on many toes in a bid to do so. Joan Halloway, Office Manager at the advertising agency. Joan knows everything that goes on in the offices and introducers Peggy as a new-comer to the ins and outs of working as a lady in a an industry dominated by men. Underestimated and underappreciated, the women of this era knew their place;

Men are just pawns to these ladies as they use them to get what they want. The plots in the show are exciting and the sub plots unexpected, and you are consistently satisfied with the resolutions. The characters continually

find themselves in tangled storylines but you can be guaranteed they will find a way around and out of it. The originality of the show is one to be appreciated. It is sleek, sexy, smart, stylish and humorous.

sixties define these characters help us to understand who they are and what they are struggling against. The first season of the show is addictive and it is no wonder the show is award winning. The acting, the cinematography and the writing carry the series to exceptional heights.

The show is beautifully written and the characters all loveable even in their own faults. The pretence of the Sunday 6.11pm

Photos: Boyd CHALLENGER

but it is the women in Sterling and Cooper who know what they are doing and in far more control of their lives than the men.

BEING JORDAN An in-depth look at her first (of many) autobiographies

Lisa REGAN

At just the introduction, one can only think ‘wow, here is a woman so filled with love for a man’. This man, she explains, is ‘the one’ and she will never let him go. Mmm… fast forward two years and well, it’s goodbye Peter. If one was reading this book without any prior knowledge of Jordan (aka Katie Price or vice versa, who the hell knows anymore!), you would think that this is another woman gushing about her man. Well until you get about two paragraphs in and Jordan explains to the reader about Pete’s body and his sexual abilities (which naturally only match her own outstanding ones!). So far, one chapter in, I can sense this is going to be an educational read, but I don’t think it will be in the traditional sense! Through Katie’s love of horses, she takes us on a journey of self discovery! 60

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In the following chapters, she explores her first relationship and details her first sexual encounter, her first pregnancy and her miscarriage. This chapter details her life at 16 and already things are shaping up to be pretty colourful. In breaking tan news, we find out that it is on a first trip to Tenerife that Katie’s obsession with tanning begins, as she now decides having a tan is key to being successful! On the sex front, Katie uncovers one of the biggest mysteries to plague women for centuries, proclaiming that “willies come in all different shapes and sizes!”. I am telling you, this book is teaching me things I never thought learn! Moving through the chapters, our Katie starts to find her feet in the glamour modelling world. One of her biggest achievements in this time was the decision to go from curly to straight, a decision that she feels has sculpted her career!

Before I read this book, I knew the regular information on Jordan but Jaysus, by chapter ten I really felt like I knew her. This is a woman who feels the need to make the reader aware at every opportunity in that she is a highly sexual woman. She is, at this stage in the book, moving through men like hot cakes but one thing is for sure, she is a hopeless romantic who loves a good oul bit of sex! Moving closer to the end of this book, I really have learnt a lot about Jordan and the pattern that her life follows. Essentially she is a serial dater that needs a man at all times to feed her high sexual desires, oh yeah! It is almost comical as one moves from chapter to chapter of her life as she constantly falls for the wrong man, then speaks about his attributes and compares them with her current beau’s anatomy...super reading! I am literally in shock. Here is a woman who loves the drama, loves it. For every

One of the highlights of this book for me was when Jordan spoke about a lead up to a big date or night out... always the same look: smokey eyes, tight black pants/skirt, push- up bra

and sure she always throws in a bit of leopard print for good measure! Serious operator! She is a woman that craves attention, be it through her outspoken manner, her clothing (or lack thereof!), or through her main medium of work - getting her kit off!

quite easily. Simply name all the men she has ever been with, explain about their sexual abilities then compare and contrast, throw in some of her fashion choices, explain about her cosmetic surgery procedures and well this is ‘Being Jordan’!

So essentially, ‘Being Jordan’ is a book of 316 pages but I feel it could have been summarised into a paragraph Sunday 11.13pm

Photos: Reg GORDON

instance in her life, there is a man. She has no clear type of man, she just needs a man at all times or else...well I actually don’t know, as she really never did not have one!

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Photos: Marie MADDEN / Reg GORDON

Contributors

Sunday 6.01pm

Contributors

Sunday 6.01pm

Contributors

Saturday 6.00pm

sign off from the editor… “So what did you do over this weekend? We made this! I am currently running on 4 hours sleep, I smell, my body and mind ache but I would do it all again. We came together at midnight Friday and started a process that has led to this magazine. Im sitting here with 2 ½ hours to go looking up at a wall of images and text that didn’t exist 48 hours ago and there’s a part of me that doesn’t believe it. The major emotion though is an almost uncontrollable feeling of pride. We started with nothing. Not a photo, not a line of text, we hadn’t even decided on a font or a logo. Everything, including the reviews, had to be done in 48 hours. All we started with was a commitment to each other that we were going to create something that represented our vision of Galway and, barring a power outage, we will have it launched in time. When I decided to do this 5 weeks ago, it just seemed like something that could be done. I made a couple of phone calls and the team met in a local hostelry. By the time we finished up it was obvious that it was something that should be done. It took a wee bit of manoeuvring but,

once we settled on a weekend, people cleared their schedules and there was no going back then.

to each one of you.

To be honest I feel a bit of a cheat calling this 48.

Facebook: 48 Hour Magazine Galway

It took so much more than that to put this together. It took endless meetings and phone calls. To Galway’s eternal credit not one person said no once I called them and suggested this as a concept. Everyone thought I was mad, but instantly waded in.

Twitter: @48hoursgalway

I am happy”.

YouTube: 48 Hour Magazine Galway www.48hourmagazine.com

To some of the many that offered help and were unused, you have my gratitude and I apologise that we couldn’t work together. We will again. To everyone who has taken part in any way shape or form, I salute you all. We came together as a team and spent the entire weekend locked down in a building dealing with highs and lows together and there wasn’t a raised voice, there wasn’t a disagreement, there was a constant commitment to excellence. When things went wrong we fixed it together. They are screaming at me to send this on so I can’t actually thank everyone individually but know that I am grateful Saturday Sunday 6.00pm 21.35

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