GrahamH

Thanks for that Hiivaladan. Interesting view from what seems to be 1956/57 – just look at that ‘rubble’ shoot coming out the window :(. Strangly agricultural gates to the left too.

The left-hand house is quite similar to the Georgian still standing across the road, now the Shelbourne car park, currently undergoing restoration. It’s of similar mid-century date, given how tiny the windows are, and of course the Venetian. I wonder if there were further houses to the left forming a terrace, prior to the construction of the National Musuem? Lovely little turreted curiousity to the right there too 🙂

As has been mentioned a few times on the site, the great sandstone Italinate chimney looming to the rear of the houses was formerly located on Earlsfort Terrace, built principally as the ventilation shaft and secondly as the campanile of the newly converted Royal University/UCD around 1885.

Interestingly, the clock and bells installed were the GPO’s 1818 originals.

In an extraordinary example of make-do-and-mend, the entire tower was dismantled around 1915 and re-erected behind the RUI’s city centre colleague’s premises: the Royal College of Science on Merrion Street. There it acted as a chimney stack for the complex’s new-fangled turf-fired heating system (though what they had used since the college’s completion in 1911 is open to question). Its rooftop was rather crudely converted from lofty pinnacle to industrial chimney pot, as can be seen in Hiivaladan’s picture.

The tower was finally dismantled in the early 1970s, probably as it posed a security risk to the Leinster House complex in the newly troubled North. The bells and clock faces remained dumped in the grounds of Earlsfort Terrace for about twenty years after the tower was moved – anyone any idea where they are now?

Interestingly, Kildare Place has another connection to Dublin Castle other than the fireplaces salvaged from Number 3 in the above picture – and indeed to the Italinate chimney. When Tracton House – a fine 1740’s house on the site of the red brick Bank of Ireland premises on the corner of Merrion Row beside the Shelbourne – was demolished in 1912, its magnificent Apollo Room or back drawing room was donated by the bank to the State. Curiously for so early in the 20th century, the National Museum built a seperate annex onto its complex in Kildare Place to house the room, and furnished it as an example of 18th century Irish craftsmanship. Here it remained until about 1939, when it was dismantled after the outbreak of war to provide extra space for storage of turf for the very central heating station pictured above! It was not without public outcry, with numerous mentions in contemporary newspapers.

The room, including its magnificent stucco ceiling and panelling was then put in storage, being shifted between the back of Iveagh House and the Royal Hospital (why was the RHK such a dumping ground over the years?!). Eventually, after the disasterous fire in the Castle in 1941, it was decided to incorporate it into the State Apartments, partially as compensation for the loss of the extraordinarily bizzare Presence Chamber that was completely destroyed. However, as the panelling, frieze and cornice had been hacked about so much over the years, there was no option but to reproduce in fascimile all but the ceiling of the room.

So hence the odd connection between the three places and structures 🙂

3/7/2007

Well, like clockwork, poor old Parks and Planters have been called out to save the day yet again in the case of the City Hall Plaza – only even their usual sensitive works aren’t safe from the blight of meagre resources. We now have bloated leafy wedding cakes fashioned from recycled 1980’s McDonald’s chairs dumped about the space in an attempt to enliven this sterile ‘civic amenity’.

The finesse and consideration for the historic setting is striking.

They’re utterly awful. Whereas I’d welcome any softening of the space, these just hammer home the point of how this area has been appalling designed from the outset. Can you just imagine a similar, supposedly tailor-made, architect-designed space in any other European city being scattered with frumpy floral planters? It’s akin to labouring over designs for a Meisian-inspired house and then putting up net curtains. And even the type of planter chosen here speaks volumes: I’ve seen better local authority models in regional towns! Not even half-decent timber or stone models used.

Meanwhile on the historic granite paving fronting the plaza, further incisions have been made in the stone to accommodate more of these ghasty yokes generously termed litter bins.

So not only are they hideous in their own right and in the historic setting, they also damage the paving on which they’re sited, are located in the wrong place for users of the plaza seating to avail of, and are plonked right in the way of pedestrians on this often crowded pavement! And why three in a row – in case you don’t see the first two?!

What a mess: even after all the controversy over Robocop and the sterile square they still can’t get it right. And the place isn’t even finished yet either – the railings are still there shielding the sticks that were planted ages ago.

Just as an aisde, as some consolation, there’s been a lovely job done with the planters on the Boardwalk. They’ve all been stained a more elegant dark shade, and have attractive architectural ferns with floral displays planted in them.

A faintly exotic, Victorian whiff has been added to the Boardwalk. Nice job Parks Dept.

:p

What a shame – they sound most interesting publicrealm.

Curiously, around the corner the setts outside City Hall/Castle gate are also being relaid now, over a month after they were first dug up. Why the delay? And why the questionable manner of relaying?

As can be seen from before, the whole roadway leading up to the gate is laid with typically dodgy widely-spaced setts, instead of attractively (and more comfortably for both pedestrian and driver) knitted tightly together. While not a major breach – heck we’re lucky to have setts here at all – it nonetheless demonstrates the usual lack of attention to detail and appreciation of a traditional craft, as per granite paving pointing and bollardism. Many of the gaps are also just filled with rough dirt, poured tar and concrete. Indeed the sham of these setts is also shown by the fact of their termination in a ridiculous straight line at the top of the hill along the edge of the Castle entrance – they don’t even continue into Castle Street to give a bit of visual breathing space. It’s embarrassingly cheap, half-hearted and visually incoherent.

Cork Hill really has been fecked over in the past five years, and all details – from pavements, to roadway surface, to yellow lines, to lampposts, to bollards – now need attention. The fact that it’s all on the doorstep of City Hall says it all really. And seperately, the Castle gate piers have also sadly lost their lamps in the past few years; they nicely terminated the vista up the hill and created something of a dramatic entrance.

Henrietta Street was the scene of a period drama last week – probably the historically dubious ‘The Tudors’ which is being shot around Dublin at the moment. They commandeered the Chapel Royal this week with enormous lights melting all the Viceroys’ coats of arms as they blasted through the windows, and folk in medieval dress strutting about the Toyotas and Volvos in the Lower Yard.

Henrietta Street was quite the odd juxtaposition.

Wonderfully evocative street scenes.

Some Tudor pigeons.

But The Yoke making its presence felt as ever.

I agree: all of those square precast units repeated over and over are oddly attractive – they must appeal in a logical, Duplo building block kind of way. And for such an enormous building, including a considerable height, it’s remarkably unobtrusive. It would appear to achieve this by having little or no service layer between the floors – I suspect it might not have air conditioning given all of those hundreds of windows open (in contrast to some of Stephenson’s other work), and it’s quite a shallow building with windows on all elevations. Its monolithic scale is also greatly reduced because there’s no principal facade; indeed most of the building is pretty much hidden in one way or another!

Yes the sneaky intrusion of its upper floor over the parapet of Government Buildings is one of the little-often mentioned planning mistakes of the 1960s. Without question this ought to be rectified before/when the Department ever move out.

It’s much worse once you’re inside the gates.

In a way it’s interesting how times have changed, both in terms of Government Buildings itself and how underestimated it was at the time (partly to do with its condition), and in how planning applications are compiled and processed. Renderings of sightlines and visual impact assessments would be central to a modern-day development application of this kind.

Not that air con plant and water tanks aren’t still slipping through the net…

Doubt it 🙂

A nursing home in my local paper was recently referred to, in quotation marks which just added to the fun of it all. as “The Bitches”. After the tree, you’ll understand.

@sw101 wrote:

you’re famous, graham

Ah, highrisers got the better deal. All mine needs is a ‘like’ and a questioning tone; with a toss of the hair it’s straight from the Miriam O’Callaghan phrasebook.