Remembering the renaissance man of the Irish revolution on his birthday
Ernie O’Malley can be defined by many adjectives—rebel, writer, art lover. But one word will suffice— a patriot. Remembering Ernie O’Malley on his 122nd birthday—A man of action, letters, notebooks, papers and great quotes, with a keen interest in the arts and the humanity of man. Irish revolutionary Ernie O’Malley was born on May 26, 1897, in Castlebar, County Mayo, but if you search for him on the 1911 Irish Census you won’t find him. You will find an Ernest Bernard Malley at 7 Iona Road in North Dublin. He is described as a “Scholar” who can “Read and Write Irish.” That may be the biggest clue to the man who, after the Easter Rebellion, would pick up the “O” in his last name and would be remembered to the world as Ernie O’Malley.
A MODERN EYE: HELEN HOOKER O’MALLEY
With a major retrospective of her work running in the Gallery of Photography and National Photographic Archive over the summer, American sculptor and portrait painter Helen Hooker O’Malley’s work behind the camera lens is put in perspective. Helen Hooker was born into a wealthy American family from Greenwich, Connecticut and New York City. As a young girl, she attended the Wabanaki School in Greenwich. This open-air, alternative school instilled in her a love of Native American spiritual principles. After attending secondary school in New York City, she refused to apply to university and instead set up her own studio and enrolled with the Art Students League of New York where she was taught by many distinguished American artists.
Gallery of Photography Ireland
A Modern Eye: Helen Hooker O’Malley’s Ireland
Gallery of Photography Ireland together with the National Photography Archive are presenting two complementary exhibitions devoted to the work of American artist, Helen Hooker O’Malley (1905-1993) Ireland was Helen’s most important source of inspiration for over half a century. Her decades-long love affair with the landscape, history and people of Ireland was ignited by her tumultuous relationship with revolutionary and author, Ernie O’Malley. Having met Ernie in the US in 1933, Helen braved family opposition to elope and marry him in London, 1935. The couple established homes in Dublin and Mayo and had three children together. Despite divorcing Ernie in 1952, Helen’s love of Ireland endured undiminished.
Ireland in the rare old times: Photographs capture an unspoiled country
Ireland in the rare old times: Photographs capture an unspoiled country Helen Hooker O’Malley photographed medieval and ancient sites and structures A Modern Eye, spread across two exhibitions and a book of the same title, makes up a brief introduction to the photography of Helen Hooker O’Malley. Brief and wide-ranging: the locations extend far beyond Ireland, for one thing, to Mongolia, Russia and Japan. The first question that arises in any discussion of Hooker O’Malley is: where do you start? She seems to have crammed several lives into one and to have pursued myriad interests.
Ernie O’Malley’s Mayo
In 1938, Ernie O’Malley returned to Mayo with his American wife Helen Hooker and developed a small farm at Burrishoole Lodge, on the northern shore of Clew Bay. They captured many images of the rugged landscape surrounding them.
The Rebel Path: by Cormac O’Malley
In the following letter from Kilmainham dated November 25, 1923, to Mrs. Molly (Erskine) Childers, he explains that the Rising had an immediate impact on him and how the initial negative public opinion in Dublin changed quickly. And about ten years later, while in America, O’Malley wrote a memoir, On Another Man’s Wound, about his Irish War of Independence experience, including his memories of Easter week, 1916. Letter from Kilmainham Then came like a thunderclap the 1916 Rising… I was down town that [Easter Monday] morning and passing Trinity [College] was asked by a man I knew if I would go in and I would get a rifle. I agreed and was going in the gate when a boy who lived near my place who had accompanied me and who felt strongly nationally (but has never ‘done’ anything) told me not to be a fool, but to tell them I would consider and come back later. On the way home he pointed out to me the disgraceful fact that I was about to take up a rifle to shoot down my own countrymen. Previous to this I had heard little of the Irish Volunteers, but at home we always laughed at them as toy soldiers. Before the [Easter] Week was finished I had changed. When I heard of the executions I was furious.