De Valera's Irelands

by Dermot Keogh

  It is only fair to state that de Valera did not envisage that Irish families should forever be confined to frugal lives in little cottages. In 1932, he told the Dáil: ‘If there are hair-shirts at all, it will be hair-shirts all round. Ulti­mately I hope the day will come when the hair-shirt will give way to the silk shirt all round.’14

  It is obvious that de Valera would have included the fine arts among ‘the luxuries of a certain kind’ which had been part of life in the mansion of Anglo-Ireland. The fine arts had been the preserve of the landed gen­try for centuries. Orchestral concerts, dance galas and opera were the fash­ionable recreations of the wealthy ruling class. Fine paintings were seen only on the walls of rooms in the ‘big houses’. Therefore, it was believed that the fine arts were not part of native Irish tradition. De Valera knew that it was politically viable to support what were perceiv­ed to be native art forms, political dynamite to fund ‘non-national’ art. The government had to proceed cautiously. It would be some time before the Irish people would regard the fine arts as legitimate recipients of government funds.

  De Valera believed in an Irish culture comprising native sports, mu­sic, dancing, storytelling, folklore and literature. He would take time to assist cultural endeavour if it was in spirit with his religious and nation­alist beliefs. In the task of nation-building, de Valera saw it as essential to promote activities which were rooted in the traditions of the majority of the Irish people. This attitude led to praise from those, like MacLysaght, who emphasised the need for an Irish culture. For others, like Wall, such an introverted attitude was equated with philistinism.

  De Valera put political before artistic considerations as Dr George Furlong (Director of the National Gallery of Ireland, 1935–50) found out to his dismay:

  De Valera never came to visit the National Gallery. The only time he request­ed advice from me was in connection with his Christmas card which was sent to foreign Heads of State. In 1936 I proposed that a new design should be used instead of the stock designs like the Rock of Cashel. I sug­gested a ‘Greetings from Ireland’ card with the heraldic shields of the four provinces. Dev’s initial reaction was favourable. He thought it looked well but after some discussion he asked me what was the origin of the heraldic designs. I told him they were probably of Norman origin. He immediately cooled on the idea and a stock design was used again that year. I was sur­prised when the next year, he called me to see him. He asked me did I re­member the de­sign I had proposed with the heraldic shields. He thought it would be very appropriate for 1937. The new constitution had laid claim to the four green fields.15

  In a speech to open Radio Éireann’s Athlone station in 1933, de Valera offered a précis of the achievements of Irish culture.16The speech was no doubt prepared for de Valera but it offered a public declaration of what was considered by officialdom to be significant in Irish cultural history. De Valera praised, first and foremost, the Irish language which was ‘one of the oldest and, from the point of view of the philologist, one of the most interesting in Europe.’ Next, he referred to ‘the tradition of Irish learning’ which had been preserved by the monastic and bardic schools; the con­tributions of Irish ecclesiastics in Louvain, Rome, Salamanca, Paris and elsewhere, the schools of poetry and the hedge schools in the eighteenth century. Despite the Penal Laws, Irish poetry, language and song had flourished. They had provided the roots of modern Irish culture.

  De Valera paid a half-tribute to Anglo-Irish literature which ‘though far less characteristic of the nation than that produced in the Irish lan­guage includes much that is of lasting worth.’ He singled out Dean Swift, ‘perhaps the greatest satirist in the English language’, Edmund Burke ‘probably the greatest writer on politics’, William Carleton ‘a novelist of the first rank’, Oliver Goldsmith ‘a poet of rare merit’, Henry Grattan ‘one of the most eloquent orators of his time’ and Theobald Wolfe Tone who ‘left us one of the most delightful autobiographies in literature’. He noted: ‘Several recent or still living Irish novelists and poets have pro­duced work which is likely to stand the test of time.’ It is significant that de Valera did not venture to name any of these writers.

  Turning to drama, de Valera said: ‘The Irish theatre movement has given us the finest school of acting of the present day and some plays of high quality.’ He continued, ‘Ireland’s music is of singular beauty … It is characterised by perfection of form and variety of melodic content … Equal in rhythmic variety are our dance tunes – spirited and energetic, in keeping with the temperament of our people.’

  The speech then progressed to even more sweeping generalities about Ireland’s mission in the world:

  The Irish genius has always stressed spiritual and intellectual rather than material values. That is the characteristic that fits the Irish people in a special manner for the task, now a vital one, of helping to save western civilisation. The great material progress of recent times, coming in a world where false philosophies already reigned, has distorted men’s sense of proportion; the material has usurped the sovereignty that is the right of the spiritual.

  De Valera concluded:

  You sometimes hear Ireland charged with a narrow and intolerant nation­alism, but Ireland today has no dearer hope than this: that, true to her own holiest traditions, she may humbly serve the truth and help by truth to save the world.

  Translated into practical politics, de Valera’s remarkable idealism meant that the arts were to be encouraged when they observed what he termed ‘holiest traditions’. It was quite proper that they should be censored when they failed to live up to this ideal. As for state involvement in the arts, de Valera believed that: ‘It is much better to proceed quietly and to try to get results by stimulating the endeavour of private individuals and organisa­tions’.17He was a ‘bubble-up theorist’, and was anxious to encourage the cultural life of the nation but reluctant to involve or add to the machi­nery of the state. He generally supported the arts initiatives of his col­leagues in government but he preferred when their suggestions made no call on public funds. In conclusion, it can be stated that de Valera con­sidered the arts to be desirable but he had little personal interest in them.

  P. J. Little’s Fianna Fáil background meant that in December 1956, when the first Arts Council’s five year term was complete, the Taoiseach, John A. Costello, did not intend to reappoint him and set about finding a successor. Costello first turned to his own arts advisor, Thomas Bodkin, who had written a highly critical report on the arts in Ireland, at Cos­tello’s request, in 1949. Bodkin declined the offer and informed Costello that: ‘the reason is simple … Paddy Little and his colleagues have quite obviously made the Arts Council a body which no one takes seriously.’ Little had made the Council ‘mainly a conduit for subsidising minor and purely local activities, many of which could scarcely be called artistic in the most liberal use of the word’. He concluded: ‘Were I a dictator I should have no hesitation in sacking the lot.’18Costello was disappointed but set about finding a replacement who was actively involved in the arts. His son, Declan, and his son-in-law, Alexis Fitz­gerald, put forward Seán Ó Faoláin’s name.19John A. Costello did not know Ó Faoláin,20but Bodkin agreed that the writer would make an excellent candidate for the posi­tion. The Catholic Archbishop of Dublin, John Charles McQuaid, thought otherwise. Ó Faoláin’s reputation was that of a rebel, an anti-establish­ment figure who had often disagreed publicly with the archbishop. Bod­kin pleaded Ó Faoláin’s case to McQuaid:

  I knew he had gone off the tracks from a religious point of view but I had been informed within the last year that he was safely back in the fold and I knew that he stayed with the Oratorians in Birmingham who thought well of him while he was working on his recent book about Newman … If he were appointed I believe that he would feel put upon his mettle to justify that trust and to make some worthwhile concern of the Arts Council which has failed so lamentably to be of use since its inception. If he is not appointed at this stage there is a danger that he m
ight be tempted to run amok and do damage by spreading the belief that his appointment has been practically made but frustrated at the last minute by some extra-govern­mental in­fluence.21

  The Taoiseach also wrote to the archbishop:

  I considered the present nominee because of the feeling that artists and writers have got no support in Ireland from an Irish government. I think the present opportunity is a good one and while I cannot expect your grace’s blessing, I feel sure I will have your prayers.

  Dr McQuaid was determined however, and paid a visit to Government Buildings where he spent over an hour with the Taoiseach and Professor Bodkin, ‘trying’, he noted, ‘to prevent Ó Faoláin’s nomination by per­suading Bodkin to take the job.22Bodkin refused and the archbishop told Costello: ‘I can only hope the nominee will not let you down.’23Dr Mc­Quaid explained to Bodkin in a letter:

  You will allow me to say how sorry I am that we cannot have a genuine ex­pert, on whose direction and life experience we could very confidently rely. We shall stumble on, in the semi-gloom of minds that have never been dis­ciplined from youth and that have not matured in the tranquillity of assured knowledge. At best, you will advise, and I hope, strongly.24

  Costello appointed Ó Faoláin as Director of the Arts Council on 21 Dec­ember 1956, having chosen to ignore the archbishop’s foreboding which proved to be entirely unfounded. It was anticipated that, compar­ed to Little’s gentlemanly style of directorship, Ó Faoláin’s approach would be sharper and more unorthodox. His term of office was five years and re­muneration was £1,000 per annum. The post was part-time and he was to ‘devote to the office so much of his time as may be necessary adequ­ately to discharge his functions and duties as director’.25This suited Ó Faoláin, who wished to maintain his lecturing commit­ments in America as well as his career as a writer. He had been appoint­ed director of a dis­tinguished Council whose members were Sir Alfred Chester Beatty, Dr Thomas McGreevy, John Maher, Niall Montgomery, Very Rev. Donal O’Sullivan, SJ, The Earl of Rosse, Muriel Gahan, Sir Basil Goulding, Dr Richard Hayes and Dr G. A. Hayes McCoy.

  The day after Ó Faoláin’s appointment, the Irish Times offered the fol­lowing assessment of the first Arts Council’s achievement:

  It would be very difficult to say just what the Arts Council has done – what positive contribution it has made to the cultivation of artistic taste in Ireland – during the first five years of its life … If it has not built theatres, or en­riched civic museums and shown itself a beneficent patron – how could it, with the microscopic sum at its disposal? It has done much in a quiet way to inculcate an acquaintance with the liberal arts, especially in the provinces, where it is most needed.26

  There would be widespread regret, the editorial continued, at the retire­ment of Paddy Little who had ‘shown himself a pleasant and discreet director, and a welcome speaker at dozens of public functions concerned with the Council and its activities.’

  Seán Ó Faoláin, warming to his new appointment, wrote a letter to the Irish Times to say that it was not at all difficult to say what the Arts Council had done.27If people looked through the Council’s annual re­ports, they ‘would be astonished by the amount of practical encourag­e­ment given to the arts in the past five years’. In Ó Faoláin’s opinion, it was:

  an open question whether the Arts Council, far from not doing enough, may not have attempted too much with so small a budget. To bestow pat­ronage on everybody actively concerned in painting, music, drama (amateur and professional), sculpture, literature, design in industry, and the fine arts and applied arts generally, could absorb anything up to £1,000,000 per an­num; and we have only £20,000 …. Perhaps it might be wiser for us to con­centrate on things of the first rank, in order to establish standards of ex­cellence. I mention it only because it is a question of future policy.

  It was courageous that the new director should raise such an important question in a newspaper before it had been discussed by the Council. With a few exceptions, the membership of the second Council was the same as its predecessor. Ó Faoláin’s suggested policy ran counter to the established strategy of operating ‘on a nation-wide basis by spending small sums in scattered parts of the country.’28He explained his views in a letter to Bodkin:

  Clearly the Council has dissipated a good deal of its energy on activities which, however laudable when taken in isolation … become questionable when considered as part of an over-all policy. If the policy has been that of a very long-term cumulative effect, intended to be achieved by more-or-less minor isolated and sporadic bursts of activity all over the country, I do not believe in it at all … My misgiving is that I virtually inherit the Council which for five years developed this policy. I should have asked the Taoiseach for a wholly new Council. As it is I shall have to be very tactful or else very ruth­less. I shall try the first.

  Ó Faoláin then made the remarkable admission:

  I am (odd thing for me to say in my present situation) not at all sympathetic to the principle of state support for artists, except on the really grand scale, e.g., Czarist patronage of the ballet, or the establishment of the Comédie Fran­çaise, or the foundation of Galleries, or conservatoires of Music, or even Acad­emies of Letters, or Science – in short only where the ordinary energies of commerce and enterprise and public spirit cannot apply.29

  It was bizarre that the director of the Arts Council was at best lukewarm about the existence of a state agency to assist the arts. Ó Faoláin was cor­rect in anticipating resistance to his views by Council members. The Earl of Rosse suggested:

  To a large extent I think that we should continue to be guided by local de­mand for our support, to encourage local initiative and enterprise subject of course to the essential provision that we are satisfied as to the standards in each case. For one thing it seems to me right in principle to foster individual efforts throughout the country, rather than to give directions from above; and for another we are bound by the smallness of our grant to keep our own ex­penditure to a minimum.30

  Dependence on local demand was far too haphazard a policy for Ó Faoláin to accept. He wanted the Council to plan its future development and to cease being purely reactive. After considerable debate, a com­promise standing order was agreed at the Council meeting of 6 March 1957. It read: ‘Future policy, while not failing to encourage local enter­prise, would insist on high standards’.31

  Ó Faoláin was frequently amazed by the dearth of official support for the arts. In July 1957, for example, he was so irritated by the failure of the Department of Education to adequately finance the National Mu­seum and the National Gallery that he sought a meeting with the mini­ster, his fellow Corkman, Jack Lynch. The meeting took place on 8 Aug­ust 1957 and Ó Faoláin gave the Council’s view that sales counters should be established in the Museum and Gallery to sell publications, small-scale replicas and postcards, and that ‘any profits accruing there­from shall re­vert to the Gallery and Museum for further developments of a like nat­ure.’32He expressed ‘in the strongest possible way, dismay at the lament­able paucity of publications at present on sale in the National Museum’. He drew attention ‘even more forcibly still’ to the situation at the Nation­al Gallery where a director and a registrar administered the Gallery with no other help.

  The miserable response of the public to certain Arts Council initia­tives was also something Ó Faoláin had to accept. In 1958, the Council decided to sponsor a scheme for the design of a Christmas card, the win­ning design to be used by the Council at Christmas that year. The com­petition was advertised widely but only twenty-five applicants submit­ted designs and none was considered of sufficient merit for use by the Council.33A useful initiative that met with modest success was the 50/50 purchase of pictures scheme. The Council agreed in January 1958 that it would fund half the cost of any one painting purchased in any one year by a local authority, provided that the Council approved of the painting, and that it was exhibited in a public place.34The response was sl
ow but the scheme encouraged local authorities to set aside even min­imal fund­ing for the purchase of original works of art. Ó Faoláin’s combative nat­ure was given full vent in May 1959 when the Arts Council took the deci­sion to recommend none of the paintings in the annual Royal Hibernian Academy exhibition for inclusion in the 50/50 pur­chase scheme. The RHA was incensed by what seemed a slur on the quality of their members’ work and a lively debate began in the letters column of the Irish Times,35and in the Dáil chamber during question time on 9 June 1959. The artist Seán Keating took particular issue with Ó Faoláin’s defence of the Coun­cil’s decision.

  Just as during P. J. Little’s directorship, Ó Faoláin entered into a tus­sle with Dr Nicholas Nolan about the use of the English title ‘The Arts Council’ as against ‘An Chomhairle Ealaíon’. This sort of argument seems petty perhaps, but it was a sensitive issue at the time. In March 1958, the Council launched a Package Design Scheme to try to improve the quality of industrial packaging. In the competition advertisements, the Coun­cil’s English title was printed in larger letters than the statutory Irish title and Dr Nolan was quick to spot the transgression. Ó Faoláin was irritat­ed and argued the case with Dr Nolan but the civil servant insisted cor­rectly but pedantically that ‘there is no statutory provision for an English translation of that title.’36