Mullen is first elected to Seanad Éireann (the Irish Senate) in 2007 for the National University of Ireland constituency, and has been continuously re-elected in 2011, 2016, 2020, and 2025, often topping the poll among NUI graduates. In 2018, he founds the Human Dignity Alliance, an anti-abortion political party. He is also affiliated with the European Christian Political Party (ECPP).
Mullen has built his career around social conservative causes:
Anti-abortion advocacy: He opposes the repeal of the Eighth Amendment and seeks stronger protections for conscientious objection among medical staff.
Opposition to same-sex marriage: He is prominent during the 2015 referendum opposing constitutional changes related to marriage.
Human rights and palliative care: He introduces bills and motions promoting hospice care and the protection of vulnerable adults.
Freedom of conscience and family values: He advocates policies emphasizing parental rights in education, ethical protections, and support for families.
International advocacy: He criticizes human rights abuses in China, the treatment of religious minorities, and European Union (EU) bureaucratic overreach, while seeking Ireland’s engagement on human dignity standards internationally.
A lifelong practicing Roman Catholic, Mullen emphasizes the principle of human dignity in both politics and daily life, integrating faith and reason in his ethical framework. He maintains a connection to Irish culture and the Irish language, and has engaged in public discussions on moral and social issues, grounding his positions in Catholic teaching without seeking to impose religious law.
In summary, Mullen is a long-standing independent Irish senator influential in debates on social policy, ethics, and human rights. His career is marked by consistent advocacy for pro-life positions, family integrity, and freedom of conscience, alongside active engagement in European and international policy discussions on human dignity and social justice.
McCarthy’s early career was meteoric: his first book, An outline of Irish history from the earliest times, appears in 1883 and is a fast-moving, strongly worded, nationalist sketch of Irish history. This is followed by a heavy-handed dramatic poem, Serapion (1883), about the early Christian era. In June of the following year he is returned as the Home Rule LeagueMP for Athlone on the death of the sitting member, and also publishes, to excellent reviews, England under Gladstone, which runs to a second edition within a year. In November 1884, his first play, The Candidate, is an overnight success in the Criterion Theatre in London. Its plot is thin but the humour and political badinage ensures it a long run.
At the 1885 United Kingdom general election McCarthy is elected nationalist MP for Newry, and he holds this seat until 1892. In the two years after his election he writes a number of novels, translates works from Persian, and writes Ireland Since the Union (1887), which is well researched, nationalist and impassioned in tone, showing a flair for biographical sketches. During this period he is known for his good attendance in the House of Commons though he does not speak much – throughout his life he is more an observer than a participator – and he is said by William O’Brien to conceal “under the gentlest of exteriors the fire of the ‘Spirit of the Nation’ ballad” (New Ireland Review, 523). In London he is well known for his controversial drama reviews in The Gentleman’s Magazine and the Sunday Sun, and in Dublin for his numerous verse and prose contributions to United Ireland. Although he makes a name for himself as a brilliant young man, he never fulfills his early promise.
In later years McCarthy continues to publish prolifically but produces only ephemeral works, and his parliamentary attendance slackens off. His political commitment is soured possibly by the party’s split in 1890. He originally sides with Charles Stewart Parnell, emphasizing in a speech on December 1, 1890, that he believes in the old-fashioned theory of personal loyalty to a leader. However, five days later he causes a minor drama by rising at the last minute to follow his father and the forty-three other anti-Parnellites, claiming that he feels he must abide by the decision of the majority. Two years later he leaves politics for good without standing in the 1892 United Kingdom general election. A sympathetic profile of him in the New Ireland Review in 1894 remarks that “no man of equal talents made so slight an impression on the political world.”
Thereafter McCarthy has less involvement in Irish affairs and writes no more Irish history books, though his novels continue to have Irish themes. He lives in London in Putney Common, and continues to travel widely. In 1894, he marries in some haste a popular comic actress, Cecilia Loftus, and the event is widely reported in the English press. However, the marriage is dissolved in the United States five years later. In 1908, his second marriage is to Loullie, daughter of Henry Killick of Budapest. He continues to enjoy success as a dramatist and has five plays, four sketches, and three duologues performed in London in the 1890s. However, he concentrates increasingly on historical fiction, which he produces at breakneck speed. In the first decade of the twentieth century he writes over twelve novels based on periods in English, Italian, French, and Irish history. The Illustrious O’Hagan (1906), The O’Flynn (1910), and The King Over the Water (1911) pointedly contradict English stereotypes of the “stage Irishman.” The Fair Irish Maid (1911) is an allegory of the Irish Parliamentary Party‘s political marriage to the ordinary Irish people rather than to the Anglo-Irishascendancy.
McCarthy dies at home in Putney on March 20, 1936 aged 79, although his obituaries all put his age at 75.
(From: “McCarthy, Justin Huntly” by Bridget Hourican, Dictionary of Irish Biography, http://www.dib.ie, October 2009)
On September 17, 1860, units of the Irish Battalion of St. Patrick of the Papal army, commanded by CaptainMyles O’Reilly from County Louth, fights a Piedmontese force under General Brignone at Spoleto, Italy.
By 1860, the Papal States are under threat from King Victor Emmanuel II of Piedmont and Giuseppe Garibaldi’s “Redshirts” during the Wars of Italian Unification. Pope Pius IX has called for Catholic volunteers from Europe, and within weeks over 1,000 Irishmen have enlisted, forming the Irish Battalion. They are poorly equipped and inexperienced, but their morale is high.
The Irish are stationed at Spoleto, a walled city south of Florence with the fortress of Rocca on a hill. On September 16, Brignone’s forces arrive and demand surrender. O’Reilly refuses, and on the following day the Piedmontese launch an assault.
The Irish are tasked with defending the North Wall and the Gate House of the Castle Albornozian. The attackers endure prolonged artillery fire from the fortress walls. When the famed Bersaglieri advance, they are met with a withering musket and rifle fire from the Irish, halting the attack. The Irish hold their ground for fourteen hours under constant bombardment.
Despite their resistance, the bishop of Spoleto, alarmed by the destruction and loss of life, arranges a ceasefire. O’Reilly, nearly out of ammunition, sends a Papal representative to Brignone. Terms are agreed: the Irish can march out as prisoners, with officers retaining their swords.
Brignone praises O’Reilly as “both honourable and brave.” Each officer and enlisted man receives a Medaglia di Pro Petri Sede (“Medal for the Seat of Saint Peter”), and all are declared “meritorious of the Catholic Church, the Holy See and all human society.”
The battle is part of the short 1860 war in which the Papal army, including the Irish Battalion, fight at Ancona, Perugia, Spoleto, and Castelfidardo. Though ultimately defeated, the Irish earn high praise for their courage and discipline.
(Pictured: The Company of Saint Patrick in the Papal Army, 1860)
The Julian calendar, introduced by Julius Caesar in 45 BCE, has a leap year rule that adds a day every four years. This makes the average year 365.25 days long, about 11 minutes and 14 seconds longer than the true solar year. Over centuries, this small error accumulates, causing the calendar to drift out of sync with the seasons. By 1752, the Julian calendar is 11 days ahead of the equinoxes, affecting the date of Easter and other seasonal events.
The Calendar (New Style) Act 1750 mandates the switch. To correct the drift, the Act declares that Wednesday, September 2, 1752, is immediately followed by Thursday, September 14, 1752 — effectively skipping September 3–13. This also adjusts the leap year rules to match the Gregorian system, omitting leap years in century years not divisible by 400.
The change is controversial. Britain and Ireland have been on the Julian calendar since 1582, with the New Year starting on March 25 (Lady Day). Adopting the Gregorian system means shortening 1751 to 282 days (March 25 to December 31) and aligning with Continental Europe, which had already made the switch in the 16th century.
Political debates, especially between the Whigs and Tories, reflect fears of losing sovereignty and of embracing “Popery.” While there are rumors of “calendar riots” demanding the return of the “lost” 11 days, these are likely exaggerated.
There are several impacts with making the change. There is historical confusion as dual dating (e.g., “Feb 10, 1750/51”) is common for decades. There are economic and social effects as birthdays, rent payments, and holidays are thrown off. The change also allows for international alignment as the change facilitates trade and communication with Europe.
The 1752 switch marks a turning point in British and Irish history, bringing the calendar into line with most of Europe and setting the stage for the Gregorian calendar’s eventual global dominance. Today, the Gregorian calendar is the world’s standard civil calendar, a legacy of this 18th-century reform.
The consecration is a major ecclesiastical event attended by PresidentÉamon de Valera, who lights the sanctuary candle, and by Cardinal William Conway, Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of All Ireland, who celebrates Mass. Bishop Michael Browne, Bishop of Galway and Kilmacduagh, is accompanied at the altar by four archbishops, underscoring the cathedral’s importance as the mother church of the Diocese of Galway and Kilmacduagh. Thousands of people gather for the blessing, which begins with a procession from the Convent of Mercy to the cathedral’s front entrance.
Galway Cathedral is built on the site of the old city prison, with construction starting in 1958 and completion in 1965. Designed by architect John J. Robinson, it is a striking example of Renaissance Revival architecture, with influences from Romanesque and Gothic styles. Constructed almost entirely of local limestone, it features an octagonal dome 44.2 metres (145 ft.) high, supported by eight pillars each adorned with a mosaic of one of the Beatitudes.
The consecration marks the opening of the cathedral as the last great stone cathedral to be built in Europe. The dedication to Our Lady Assumed into Heaven reflects both Marian devotion and the city’s maritime heritage, while the building itself stands as a testament to Galway’s cultural and religious identity.
In summary, August 15, 1965, is a historic day for Galway, when Cardinal Richard Cushing’s consecration of the new cathedral brings together national and international religious figures, Irish political leadership, and the faithful in a celebration of faith, heritage, and architecture.
Between 1959 and 1977, Trimble is professor of accompaniment and musicianship at the Royal College of Music.
Trimble’s compositional career spans two decades, producing works such as Buttermilk Point (1938), The Heather Glen (1949), Phantasy for Piano Trio (1940), and the suite Ulster Airs (1939–40). In 1957, she makes a notable mark by composing Blind Raftery, the first new opera by a woman to be broadcast on BBC Television.
Later in life, Trimble inherits her father’s newspaper, becoming its proprietor and editor, and takes up composition again in 1990 when commissioned for her 75th birthday. She dies in Enniskillen on August 6, 2000, at the age of 85, two weeks after the death of her husband. She is remembered for her contributions to Irish music, her skill as a pianist, and her role in preserving her family’s legacy in both the arts and journalism.
In 2002, the Joan Trimble Awards Scheme is established by her family in her memory, and administered by the Fermanagh Trust “in recognition of her lifelong commitment to County Fermanagh.” The purpose of the scheme is to encourage and support the involvement of young people in creativity, the performing arts and Irish culture, and to provide bursaries for training and education.
In 2012, Fermanagh County Museum stages an exhibition titled “Buttermilk Point: The Musical Life of Joan Trimble, 1915–2000.”
On June 18, 2015, “Music in Fermanagh” presents A Celebration Concert as part of the Joan Trimble Centenary Celebration at the Ardhowen Theatre in Enniskillen.
Born at Hillside Terrace in Howth, County Dublin, on May 5, 1898, Gilmore is the second son of Philip Gilmore, an accountant originally from County Antrim, and Fanny Angus. Despite his father primarily working for Unionist landlords, and being educated at home, George and his brothers Harry and Charlie all turn toward Irish republicanism. By 1916, Gilmore has become a member of Fianna Éireann, the Republican boy scouts, and later a member of the South County Dublin battalion of the Irish Volunteers.
Gilmore fights in the Irish Republican Army in the Irish War of Independence and in the Irish Civil War on the Anti-Treaty IRA side. During the civil war he is captured and imprisoned, but manages to escape custody in August 1923, the aftermath of which causes riots as the remaining prisoners are placed in solitary confinement.
Following the end of the civil war, Gilmore serves as the secretary of future TaoiseachSeán Lemass, as well alongside Frank Aiken. During the early 1920s, he, Lemass and Aiken regularly meet with the IRA army council to represent the emerging political leadership of Irish republicanism that coalesces as Fianna Fáil in 1926. The trio regularly sits opposite IRA leaders Frank Ryan, Peadar O’Donnell, and Seán Russell.
In October 1925, Gilmore and Lemass organise the escape of nineteen IRA prisoners from Mountjoy Prison in Dublin. As part of the jailbreak, Gilmore impersonates a member of Garda Síochána. None of the nineteen escapees are subsequently recaptured, and their escape serves as a major propaganda coup. However, the following month, Gilmore is involved in a riot that takes place on Armistice Day and he is subsequently arrested and sentenced to eighteen months in prison. He resists the entire duration; first resisting the arrest and then, once imprisoned, refusing to wear a prison uniform and going on hunger strike. Early in 1928, members of the IRA attack Mountjoy Prison where he is being held and shoot the warden after a story emerges that Gilmore had previously been the victim of a vicious beating by the guards. He is released in 1929 but re-arrested and re-imprisoned almost immediately, resulting in a retaliatory beating by the guards that leaves him unconscious.
Sometime between 1929 and 1930, Gilmore is sent by the IRA to Russia to receive military training and to seek aid.
Gilmore is arrested yet again upon his return to Ireland in April 1931, charged with having resisted arrest ten months previously. In October he tries to escape with the help of his brother Charlie and almost succeeds, using a plot involving mock pistols wrapped in silver to intimidate the guards. In the aftermath of the failed escape, his treatment in Arbour Hill Prison from 1931-32 is abysmal. He once again refuses to wear prison clothing because of his political status and remains naked in a windowless cell from October 1931 until February 1932. In June 1931, of a cache of weapons are discovered near his home at Killakee in the Dublin Mountains, which results in him and his brother Charlie being placed before a military tribunal which sentences him to five years in prison and Charlie to three (in 1932 Fianna Fail comes to power and the brothers are released). Neither recognises the authority of the court, with George stating, “I do not want anybody to think I excuse myself for such a charge as having arms, I am admittedly hostile to British imperialism and international capitalism.”
Gilmore’s fortunes are dramatically altered when Fianna Fáil emerges victorious in the 1932 Irish general election. In the aftermath, Frank Aiken, former Chief of Staff of the IRA and new Minister for Defence goes to see Gilmore on March 9 and on the next day all republican prisoners are released as part of a general amnesty. Thirty thousand supporters greet the prisoners at College Green, Dublin.
Finally out of long-term imprisonment, Gilmore is eager to resume working toward a socialist Ireland. He has supported Peadar O’Donnell’s shortlived socialist republican group Saor Éire from prison, but in the aftermath of its demise, he concludes that the group has spent too much time imagining what it might do if in government, and not enough time considering what the immediate aims of the IRA should be. With his close personal ties to their leadership, Gilmore has a positive view of Fianna Fáil, and at this point in time believes their goals differ little from his own and those of the IRA. Nevertheless, He encourages the IRA to not become too closely associated with Fianna Fáil, fearing the IRA will become a subservient body. He himself has ascended to the IRA’s army council upon his release, and in March 1932 is among representatives of the Army Council that liaises with Éamon de Valera about a possible partnership between the IRA and Fianna Fáil.
On August 14, 1932, Gilmore and fellow Irish republican T. J. Ryan are beaten badly, shot and wounded by plain-clothes members the Garda Síochána (Criminal Investigation Department) in Kilrush, County Clare. This incident is blamed on the police by an official Tribunal of Inquiry report one month later.
In March 1934, Gilmore, alongside Frank Ryan and Peadar O’Donnell, refuse to continue on as members of the IRA executive as part of a deepening rift over the direction of the IRA. Left-wing members of the IRA such as Gilmore, Ryan and O’Donnell insist that the IRA needs to tie their activity to social agitation in addition to their military aims, but this is a minority viewpoint, with the majority believing the IRA should have a “strictly military” outlook. The rift ultimately spirals into Gilmore, Ryan and O’Donnell being court-martialed and expelled in April.
In the aftermath, Gilmore works with Roddy Connolly, Nora Connolly O’Brien and Peadar O’Donnell to found the Republican Congress, a left-wing socialist Irish republican group. The group breaks up in 1935 over internal differences. Gilmore, Ryan and O’Donnell believe that the Republican Congress should be a united front, an alliance of all republican groups in Ireland. Roddy Connolly and other members of the Communist Party of Ireland believe that the Congress should be a vanguard party. A conference is held by the Republican Congress in Rathmines, Dublin, in September 1934 to vote on the issue. Before the vote is taken, Gilmore gives a speech in which he accuses Fianna Fáil of using republicanism as a means to promote Irish capitalism. When the votes are taken on whether the Republican Congress should be a united front or a vanguard party, Gilmore’s united front faction wins. However, supporters of the vanguard party concept such as Roddy Connolly immediately resign from the Congress in protest and walk out on the group. It proves to be a blow that the Congress never recovers from and the group is defunct by 1936. Gilmore makes a last-ditch effort to save the Congress by traveling to the United States to seek funds from Irish American groups but is not successful.
Upon the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War in July 1936, Gilmore and O’Donnell become supporters of the International Brigades. Both men travel to Spain personally, during which they are involved in a plane crash and Gilmore’s leg is broken.
Following the outbreak of World War II in September 1939, Gilmore writes an appeal pleading with the IRA to dump arms until the war in Europe is over and denounces them for flirting with fascism by seeking aid from Germany.
During the 1960s, when the republican movement once again moves to the left, Gilmore and O’Donnell are once again in demand as speakers and as writers in republican publications. In 1966, for the 50th anniversary of the Easter Rising, Gilmore releases a pamphlet entitled “Labour and the republican movement” in which he espouses the principles of James Connolly. Additionally, he appeals to young republicans not to repeat the mistake older republicans had made in being too rigid in their views and too short on policy.
Gilmore dies on June 29, 1985, at the age of 87, in a nursing home in Howth, County Dublin.
Todd is born in Rathfarnham, on April 23, 1805. He is noted for his efforts to place religious disagreements on a rational historical footing, for his advocacy of a liberal form of Protestantism, and for his endeavours as an educator, librarian, and scholar in Irish history.
Todd is the son of Charles Hawkes Todd, a professor of surgery, and Eliza Bentley, and is the oldest of fifteen children. Noted physician Robert Bentley Todd is among his younger brothers. His father dies a year after he receives a BA from Trinity College Dublin (TCD) in 1825, diminishing his prospects for success. However, he is able to remain at the college by tutoring and editing a church periodical.
Todd obtains a premium in 1829, and two years later is elected Fellow, taking deacon’s orders in the same year. From that time until 1850, when he becomes a Senior Fellow, he is among the most popular tutors in TCD.
Todd takes priest’s orders in 1832. He begins publishing in earnest, including papers on John Wycliffe, church history, and the religious questions of his day. He is Donnellan Lecturer in 1838 and 1839, publishing works related to the Antichrist in which he opposes the views of the more extreme of his co-religionists who apply this term to the Roman Catholicism and the Pope. In 1840 he graduates Doctor of Divinity.
In 1837, Todd is installed Treasurer at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin and becomes Precentor in 1864. His style of preaching is described as simple and lucid, and his sermons interesting. He co-founds Saint Columba’s College in 1843, a school which promotes the Irish language for those who intend to take orders, as well as promoting the principles of the Church of Ireland.
In 1849, Todd is made Regius Professor of Hebrew at Trinity, and a Senior Fellow the following year. In 1852, he is appointed Librarian, and working alongside John O’Donovan and Eugene O’Curry, he classifies and arranges the collection of manuscripts. When his office receives money, he spends it on the acquisition of manuscripts and rare books, and he deserves much credit for the library’s high ranking as one of the chief libraries of Europe.
Todd’s secular achievements are no less remarkable. In 1840, he co-founds the Irish Archaeological Society and acts as its honorary secretary. He is elected a member of the Royal Irish Academy (RIA) and strives actively to acquire transcripts and accurate accounts of Irish manuscripts from foreign libraries. He is honorary secretary from 1847 to 1855, and president from 1856 to 1861. In 1860, he is given an ad eundem degree at the University of Oxford.
Todd is a notable person among notable people. His work is widely respected and cited. Among his friends and acquaintances are lawyer and poet Sir Samuel Ferguson, Conservative Member of Parliament (MP) and Roman Catholic convert Edwin Wyndham-Quin, fellow historian William Reeves, artist Sir George Petrie, and the Stokes family (physician father William, future lawyer and Celticist son Whitley, and future antiquarian daughter Margaret).
Todd dies at his home in Rathfarnham on June 28, 1869, and is buried in the churchyard of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
As part of the 2008 Cork Midsummer Festival, 1,100 volunteers gather on the grounds of Blarney Castle in the early hours of Tuesday, June 17, 2008, and strip naked to have their picture taken at the famous location.
The occasion is the first shoot in Ireland by the American photographic artist Spencer Tunick, who has already made quite a name for himself shooting large groups of naked people in public spaces in New York City, Montreal, London and Amsterdam.
Like many of Tunick’s projects, the event in Cork comes about by invitation. “It was Mary McCarthy, the art curator at Dublin Docklands, who contacted me first,” says Tunick, via Zoom from his office in New York, of the organiser who is director of the Crawford Art Gallery in Cork. “Mary thought to make it a two-city project, in Cork and Dublin, and brought Cork Midsummer Festival on board. People think I can choose where I want to work, but it’s not as if I can get up and say, ‘hmm, I want to photograph 1,000 people in a volcanic crater in Hawaii.’ In reality, I need a team on the other side, helping me. And it was Mary who established that team in Ireland.”
McCarthy’s crew works with Tunick on selecting locations for his shoots. Blarney Castle appeals to Tunick. “When you think of a castle, you think of swords, you think of dreams, you think of battle and war,” he says. “But you might also think of the rose. I tried to combine a lot of different ideas or fantasies about the castle and connect them to the body. But there were also a lot of grounds around the castle, so I could have different set-ups and positions to shoot in.”
When Cork Midsummer Festival puts out a call for volunteers, it is inundated with applications. Those chosen are of all ages, and from all walks of life. “I think sometimes people associate my live works with young people. But there’s often a lot of people over 50, and into their 80s, at this great unifying event that touches on the idea of group photo gatherings from the 1920s. When you see a big haul of people lined up, undressed of course, it combines group portraiture with abstraction and the naked body.”
At Blarney Castle, beginning around 5:30 a.m., he shoots the crowd in a variety of poses on the castle lawns, facing toward and away from the camera, then lying on their backs as they each held a single rose aloft (pictured above), red for the women and white for the men. He then photographs a small number on their knees in the river that runs through the grounds, and a smaller number again kissing the Blarney Stone. Some participants see the photo shoot as an opportunity to challenge the general disapproval of nakedness that prevails in the Ireland of their youth. Others see it as a way to make peace with their body image.
Later that morning, Tunick photographs about 50 naked volunteers covered in foam at White Street Carpark in Cork city centre. “As a kid, I was always fascinated by the bubble scene in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the film,” says Tunick. “So, I wanted, in a whimsical and surreal way, to amplify my memories of that. But I also wanted to work with the history of the area, so I infused Murphy’s beer into four bubble machines and created a snow globe effect with the nudes. That was beautiful.”
Looking back on the photographs, one is struck by how most of the bodies are white. If it is true that Cork has become far more ethnically diverse city since that day in 2008, one must also wonder if Tunick’s call for volunteers appealed to a certain demographic. “I always ask the organisers to do community outreach in different areas, so we can get more colour and ethnicities into the work,” he says. “But sometimes it doesn’t really resonate, and sometimes the population is not there, you know. And often, where that population exists, it might not be connected to the body in contemporary art. But I’ve always tried, and now I insist that the organisers make an extra effort.”
Tunick’s shoots at Blarney Castle and White Street attract lavish coverage in the media, a reflection perhaps on how they coincide with a change in the public perception of nudity. The project would almost certainly have caused an uproar even twenty years previously. Participants describe a sense of joy and liberation. “This was definitely pre-Instagram, right? And now when we’re on Instagram, we think the whole world is accepting of nudity in public, but back then, there was not that same outlet for my images. But there was that documentation by the press, and through that, I think people realised that something had happened that went against the grain in a positive way.”
Four days later, Tunick photographs 2,500 naked volunteers on the South Wall in Dublin. Again, the event attracts headlines, but already, it seems, the culture has moved on, and there is not quite that same element of surprise and delight as there had been in Cork.
Tunick has done many projects since. Some of his favourites include those in Kingston upon Hull in 2016 and on the Dead Sea in 2011 and again in 2021. “I like working with props. In Cork, I used roses and beer foam. But now I like working with body paint. In Hull, we covered around 4,000 people in four shades of blue. The blues were those of the water I saw in a number of paintings in the Maritime Museum in the city. I asked Pantone to replicate the colours, and those were the blues we used. Not many people know that.”
“My projects in the Dead Sea were partly about showing how the salt in the water could elevate the body. That created a very interesting, otherworldly effect in the photographs. But they also aimed to raise awareness of how the Dead Sea is disappearing because of irrigation to serve the need for drinking water by adjoining countries such as Israel and Jordan. It’s a very difficult situation.”
Many photographers find their work curtailed by pandemic restrictions of the early 2020s. Tunick too is forced to postpone photographing groups of people on location, but he does find a way to go on creating. “An art collective called Studio 333 in Mexico asked me if I wanted to do group works on video chats, and offered to manage it technically. So we started making group works with people from all walks of life, all around the world. We had someone in Saudi Arabia posing with someone in Israel. We had people in Australia, people in Europe, people all over the world. I think the only place we weren’t able to work with was Antarctica, but who knows? Maybe that’s in the future.” The resulting images are published online, on Tunick and Studio 333’s websites and social media accounts, under the collective title ”Stay Apart Together.”
As for the future, Tunick would love to work in Ireland again, he says. “It’s always been my dream to do a work in Northern Ireland, maybe with 100 or 200 people on the Giant’s Causeway? I can’t have too many, because then you wouldn’t see the rocks. Northern Ireland, the Giant’s Causeway… that project’s been on my mind for a long time, so hopefully some museum or curator will invite me to do it.”
(From: “Cork in 50 Artworks, No 49: Spencer Tunick’s nude installation at Blarney Castle” by Marc O’Sullivan, Irish Examiner, http://www.irishexaminer.com, April 11, 2022 | Pictured: Blarney Castle with the crowd assembled by Spencer Tunick)
Whyte is born on April 30, 1928, in Penang, Malaysia. His father is manager of a rubber plantation on the mainland. His family leaves Malaysia and returns to Europe when he is three, eventually settling in Rostrevor, County Down, Northern Ireland. The Whytes are a well-known County Down family recorded in the area since at least 1713. The family is said to have come to Ireland from South Wales with Strongbow in 1170 and settled in Leinster. He is educated locally, at Ampleforth College and Oriel College Oxford, from which he takes a degree in Modern History in 1949. Continuing studies some two years later he is awarded a B.Litt degree for further research, which is to form the nebula of his first book which is published in 1958.
Whyte undertakes national service during the 1950s and works as a history teacher in his old school before being appointed lecturer in Modern History at Makerere University, Uganda. In 1962, he returns to Ireland having been appointed first “lecturer in empirical politics” at the then expanding University College Dublin (UCD). In 1966, he weds fellow academic Dr. Jean Murray and moves to Queen’s University Belfast (QUB) to undertake further studies.
In his book, Preventing the Future: Why Was Ireland So Poor for So Long?, Whyte’s successor as Professor of Politics at UCD, Tom Garvin, gives an account as to the clerical politics prevalent at the time at UCD which causes Whyte’s untimely departure:
A little later, in 1966, McQuaid provoked, possibly unintentionally, the resignation of John Whyte, a distinguished Catholic political scientist, from University College Dublin’s Department of Ethics and Politics. This resignation and move to Belfast on Whyte’s part in 1966 almost certainly was the unintended result of an extraordinary piece of clerical interference and bullying that rebounded upon McQuaid and on UCD. Whyte was in the midst of writing his standard history of the Catholic Church in independent Ireland, later published in 1969; at McQuaid’s apparent instigation, his professor and head of Department attempted to forbid him from continuing with this work. The irony was that the resultant scholarly book, finished in Belfast rather than Dublin, deeply underestimated clerical power in the Irish state and gave the Catholic Church a rather easy ride. Another irony was that Whyte, as a Roman Catholic historian and political scientist, was apparently rather favoured by McQuaid. However in 1966 bishops didn’t know they needed friends. Whyte was to come back to UCD and was professor of Ethics and Politics between 1984 and 1990. In a very real sense, McQuaid was the patriarchal and eccentric governor of Dublin Archdiocese, where one-third of the stat’s population lived; he attempted to run an urban society of a million people as though it were a large feudal community.
At Queen’s, Whyte spends seventeen years as lecturer and reader, and from 1982 Professor of Irish Politics during which he seeks to bring together political scientists from across the island and develop an All-Ireland political science fellowship. From 1973 to 1974 he works at as a research fellow at Harvard University’s Centre for International Affairs, and in 1975 he helps lead a team of researchers investigating the Northern Ireland conflict, then at its height. He also works as research fellow at the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Studies during the late 1970s and is elected Member of the Royal Irish Academy (RIA) in 1977, serving as Vice-President from 1989 to 1990.
In 1984, Whyte returns to University College Dublin, then faced with stringent fiscal cuts and wider problems in Irish third-level education. In his second period at UCD, he leads the Department, which he now heads, through a troubled period of financial cuts while supervising a reorganisation of the undergraduate curriculum. In his last years at UCD he completes his seminal work, the widely regarded Interpreting Northern Ireland. He finishes correcting the proofs and compiling the index of this work only a week before his death. While en route to an academic conference at Airley House, Virginia, he collapses at John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York, is taken to a local hospital, and dies there on May 16, 1990. He is survived by his wife, two sons, and one daughter.
Following his death, Whyte’s family, friends, and colleagues set up the John Whyte Trust Fund to continue Whyte’s work, honour his memory and encourage “informed dialogue and interaction at graduate level among people who are likely to be leaders and opinion-shapers.” To date the fund has awarded one fully paid scholarship and a number of part-paid scholarships as well as essay prizes annually. The fund also hosts an annual John Whyte Memorial Lecture. Speakers have included Paul Bew and Brendan O’Leary.
