• Ethereal Playground

‘Ethereal Playground’

The installations in this exhibition have been inspired by my sense of outrage at the unlawful abuses suffered by young women and their innocent children in Irish ‘care’ institutions throughout the twentieth century. It horrified me to learn that many mother and baby homes considered some children undesirable for adoption purposes, abandoning them instead in a ‘reject ward’ or subjecting them to clinical trials, fostering and an illegal adoption process.
My research’s key areas of investigation traversed the social and historical background that led to the establishment of mother and baby homes in the early 1900s. I addressed the patriarchal and hierarchical attitude towards ‘fallen women’ and their ‘illegitimate children,’ examining how their lives were unjustly affected.
Studying key texts by Catherine Corless, Diarmaid Ferriter and Caelainn Hogan, triggered many ideas for my final artworks, as did my interview with Catherine Corless.
I was particularly motivated by the ignoble disposal of infants in subterranean chambers at St. Mary’s Mother and Baby Home in Tuam, Co. Galway. Disposal of human life cannot be called burial. The original geophysical surveys in Tuam inspired me to design alternative burial methods and create a reimagined ground penetrating radar (GPR).
My installations are designed to provoke reflection and introspection around the dialogue of dichotomies, questioning the moral compass of those responsible for the many layers of abuse and neglect suffered by thousands of Irish women and children in state care. These are the sentiments upon which my research and creative outcomes are focused.
I have juxtaposed and subverted found objects relating to church, laundry, infancy, and lost childhood. In support of survivors and their families, I wish to add my voice through creative expression, to the public demand for a thorough investigation, exhumation, a dignified burial and an appropriate memorial.
The title Ethereal Playground reflects a place where every child is happy and free. This experience was not known to institutionalised children in Ireland, but it would be the first place I would like to bring them if only we could change history. The five installations are an amalgamation of what is and what should have been, as they carry references to the dichotomies of life and death, work and play, burial and absolute freedom.

Getting to the Bottom of Things
Mixed media, 2023, 238x94x258cm (variable)

This installation combines two freestanding sculptures, surreal and subverted in scale and concept. Perhaps it was a spade just like this that was used to bury some of the lost infants. They almost certainly never enjoyed novelty treats or sweets in their short lives. Most survivors only remember starvation and some recall eating like animals with their hands.
The oversized spade handle is covered in melting jelly-baby sweets, above a vintage spade covered in burnt moulding compound and black wax, suggestive of the raw earth in which they were placed. This sculpture is reflected in the pristine mirror of an elongated mirrored seesaw, suggesting our engagement in reflection and introspection over neglected and lost children’s lives. What would we have done at that time? More importantly, what can we do now?

Shattered Lives
Mixed media kinetic sculpture,2023, 206 x 150 x 209cm (variable)

Features a compressed swing frame operated by a transformer and fitted with a windscreen-wiper motor, cogs and wheels; driving the narrow kinetic mirrored seat, cracked underneath and reflected in a shattered long mirror on the ground.
The pristine edges of the mirror remind us of the quality of training Bons Secour sisters gave their nurses, who learnt to fold sharp edges on the corners of the hospital linens – the same linens that their enslaved mothers laundered in the Magdalen Laundries. However, underneath that perfect veneer, the cracks have shown in all Irish ‘care’ homes, despite the Bons Secours order’s motto: “Good help to those in need.”

Almost Tangible
Mixed media installation, 2023, 170 x 166 x 340cm (variable)

A reimagined version of the ground penetrating radar (GPR) that was used to carry out the preliminary geophysical survey at the former Tuam mother and baby home site in 2015. Crafted partly from discarded objects and rudimentary materials, the frame is a ‘cover-up’ of wrapped wastepaper, as a reminder of the coverup of institutional abuse for many decades.
This interactive installation incorporates authentic soil from the Tuam site and copper rods above magnets (magnetometry) within the clear funnels. The screen depicts a roving search barely above the ground, with a recording of children in a playground but with a subterranean or funnel-like interference. Exhumation and DNA testing are finally due to recommence: a first step towards restorative justice for those lost lives.
The ’noise’ on the oscilloscope plays the hymn Ave Maria from a hidden iPod. I set the ‘variation’ dial on the control panel at -800, signifying 796 lost babies in Tuam and at least 800 in Bessborough, Cork.

Lest We Forget
Mixed media. 2023, 50 x 70 x 111cm (variable)

This is a floating ground of reworked institutional tiles, over which a delicate doll’s pram supports a thick plaster slab bearing a mould of a newborn form, stained with teabags to resemble an old yellowing cot sheet or mattress. These institutional tiles are still to be found in churches and convents nationwide and remind us of the unnecessary suffering inflicted on innocent children under their care.
Young mothers should have walked those tiles on their wedding day … Infants should have been carried down the aisle for their baptism … Children should have walked happily forward on those tiles on communion day …
The toy pram triggers thoughts of games never played, freedom never enjoyed, and innocence lost. They are also a stoic reminder of the great lack of empathy for all who have been affected by life in Irish institutions; a shameful history which should never be forgotten.

Last Breath
Mixed media, 2023, 82 x 46 x 44cm (variable)

A simple juxtaposition of found objects, this unrefurbished antique commode c.1890-1919, bears the patina of the era in which the Irish mother and baby institutions were formed. The tiny white ‘Gypsophila’ flowers are commonly called ‘Baby’s Breath.’ Filling the chamber pot with milk bottles and delicate flowers reminds us of the horror of babies hurriedly hidden away in subterranean chambers and ‘cilini’ (unmarked, unconsecrated graves for unbaptised and illegitimate children. ‘Last Breath’ reminds us of the heartless treatment of ‘home’ children, who were not given the dignity of a funeral service, a coffin, burial records or any proof of having lived their short innocent lives.