Notes On: The Sea
Sharing some notes and noises about Dublin Bay that I've collected over the years.
This week I have been writing quite a lot about the sea.
More specifically I have been writing about the salty stuff we have sloshing about the coast here in Dublin: the Irish Sea. A sea which I have grown up next to and know quite well; admittedly more as an observer than a swimmer.
It ended up turning into a more extended piece and I found myself repeating the same set of watery words and images over and over again, so I popped open my hard drive and spent a bit of time looking over the bits and pieces I have collected over the years to try and loosen the brain a bit. While this started as a way of prompting a different kind of approach I ended up getting completely immersed in the wide variety of images and sounds I had created with the sea as the central character. None of it was a shock discovery but I realised that I have spent quite a bit of time photographing the coastline or making notes at the various piers, coves or beaches that I would frequent on walks. I’d also recorded quite a bit of sound and video by the coast and turned some of this into music.
So I thought I might share a small selection along with some context about the coast here in Dublin. I hope you enjoy!
Photos: A small selection (2010, 2011)
Dublin Bay is full of life and is a designated UNESCO Biosphere (or at least parts of it are). I believe it is regarded as an important international conservation area for wildlife with many birds coming to this area as they migrate with the seasons.
After reading this and without knowing the area you would be forgiven for thinking this is a remote part of the coastline that is hard to reach and far away from the hustle and bustle of a modern city, but incredibly this conservation area is right there in amongst a busy port, a train line, main roads and all manner of seaside attractions. And it suffers all manner of impact from it too with polution being a major issue, however I think the coexistence of this biosphere in amongst the urban environment is in itself and fascinating thing. There is almost no barrier between the two and you wouldn’t really know unless you read the signs or look it up online.
For any commuter on the DART line in South Dublin you would roll past this conservation area with its large flocks of birds, its marshland and sandbanks every morning and evening. It is by all accounts a very dramatic section of the coast to live and work beside but for many of us it is the insignificant everyday that surrounds us. Even so, there is something special about the moment you pass south over the level crossing at Merrion Gates and all of a sudden the houses and trees give way to this incredibly varied and inviting coastline that comes right up to the side of the train. Even the attention of the most seasoned commuter is pulled away from their phone screens to take in the view for at least a moment. We are quite lucky to have it on our doorstep.
I would often go for a walk with my family on Christmas Day down the West Pier in Dun Laoghaire. And regularly there would be this flock of birds dancing over the water along the back side of the pier. I have seen it many times when going for a walk at that time of year and if you are lucky you can be granted a front row seat to a fantasitc natural spectacle as these birds create incredible, morphing shapes in the air.
I am not sure what the species of bird is. I have tried to figure it out but I wont hazard a guess. The landscape in the background is the coastline running north from Dun Laoghaire up to Dublin City, from which all of the images shared in the post were taken.
I am quite interested in gathering photos of textures and shapes that I can use in collages. Or simply just to get lost in the detail of them. These shots of mussels, limpets (i think??) etc. were taken amongst the rock pools at Seapoint, which is a popular swimming spot for people in the area. I’ve not yet made anything from these photos but may be tempted now I’ve seen them again.
The coastline is always changing. Along this particular stretch in South Dublin the water can be quite shallow and when the tide is out the beach can stretch for some distance out into the bay. Looking at it every day you notice how it can change gradually with the sand moving in and out with the tide - so there is always something new to look at.
The man made structures change too and in recent years the recreational spots along the coast like Blackrock and Dun Laoghaire baths have undergone significant change. While in Dun Laoghaire the baths and coastline are currently being reimagined, the Blackrock Baths have been demolished and flattened to the concrete husk of its former glory. They were used as a swimming and diving spot by locals and clubs from the early 19th century up until the 1980s. Unfortunately it had fallen into disrepair but remains a great lunch spot for people looking to have a quiet sandwich in the sun and take in the seaside views.
There is always the assumption that we don’t utilise the sea for swimming or watersport as much as we should, or perhaps as much as we would if it were warmer in Dublin. I think some of that attitude in our local representatives is what allowed our Victorian baths to fall into such disrepair over the years. Perhaps our social habits changed a bit and certainly the Irish Sea can get quite chilly, but there is now an incredible amount of activity in and around the sea every day. Even in the dead of winter you will find swimmers, surfers and paddle boarders along the coast, while in the warmer months activity swells even further as our multiple boat clubs are in full swing. It is a vibrant community and the power of the cold sea can be infectious and invigorating for those who take the plunge.
Poem: By the Pier (2021)
The slap and ping cries wind That stings an aching cold Upon the flaps and hatches; Where garrotted gusts spill forth And thrust through mast and rope In endless screaming torment. Throbbing bloats of deepest blue Lift all afloat to crest and curve In anchored arches; While frothed white lifts off In specs of salted dust, To drift a mirrored sea. Her howling hands, Revealed in scratches. 20-12-2017
I originally published this poem in 2021. I found myself going back to this sketch of the sights and sounds of a windy day down by the pier in Dun Laoghaire. And also exploring a collection of shots I had taken while walking amongst the boats moored in the marina.
On a windy day in winter, when all the boats are in near the bottom of the West Pier, you will hear the ropes slapping off the masts and the tarpaulin covers flapping as they fill and flatten in the wind. I had this in my head after returning home from a walk and it found its way into my notebook.
Music: Crisp and Slow (2016)
Heads up!! Be prepared for a louder more intense experience here - this is techno music, but there is a lot to enjoy here so give it a go even if it’s not your usual cup of tea!
I remember trying to capture this feeling of an infinite energy build up. I had not been as prolific as I would have liked around this time and I was also keen just to let loose and make something; just get it out there into the world. I had fallen into a funk over the previous 6 years (and still ongoing now depending on how I look at it) where I just didn’t have the time, discipline or space to put music together. At some point I had grown incredibly conscious of what I was doing and I found it hard to “finish” anything - so this was definitely a reaction to that. I wanted to recapture the fast and loose approach that I had enjoyed for many years and had somehow lost. So this song was born out of that frustration and I think it captures a bit of that in the energy it releases.
Quite often with techno there is this continuous looping signal that acts as the key meditation or focus in the music, but it comes with this gradual fluctuation that alters various characteristics of the signal just enough to keep you feeling renewed and wanting to dig deeper. Here I wanted a wild sense of energy to build up - and I was definitely thinking of being out on the beach on a windy day with rain and sand and wind just blowing right through you and leaving you feeling utterly destroyed but completely alive; exhilerated.
I had a lot of fun creating a complex looping snare track that would skip a beat every 16 bars. I did this so that it’d be constantly flipped on its head and keep the ears guessing as to which direction you were facing. It was all to create this sense of being in a torrent, a stream of attritional sensation that would ebb and flow which you just couldn’t escape… and you kinda didn’t want to.
Listening to this I get memories of standing on the footbridge at Booterstown DART station overlooking the sea on windy mornings as I head into work. Waiting until the very last minute before heading down to catch the train. Waiting so that I could feel the cold wind coming in off the strand and knock me back and feel my satchel lift up off my side with its weight taken on the wind.
I used an image similar to the above as the cover art for the song. This was a scene I would see nearly every morning. Depending on the tide, I would find that the sea, the sand and the wildlife would be completely different every day. Sometimes, if there was no rush into the city I’d just let the train roll by and get the next one - and I am probably all the better for it now.
Thanks for the read, David! I’ve never laid eyes on the Irish Sea but now I feel well acquainted. It seems familiar, much like the coastal areas of Nova Scotia that surround me.
You are indeed a man of many talents. Your techno grooves are put together well. I used to (and still do occasionally) spin techno on vinyl. You’re making my bones feel that signature quiver. Those beats and counterpoints were unique and enjoyable. Reminds me why I love that type of music.
Loved the poem and photos, too. This post had everything!! Keep it coming.
"Throbbing bloats of deepest blue
Lift all afloat to crest and curve
In anchored arches;"
Thanks for vivid images and insistant soundtrack.