David Cuchulainn

David was born in Ireland 1971 to parents who had never quite satisfied their wanderlust. They were responsible and loving parents without a lot of money so they satisfied these desires by living frugally, and taking advantage of local destinations as well as their imaginations. When a more exotic local was desired they would experiment cooking the cuisine and surrounding their home in the Art and culture of the country they were visiting in spirit.

 

He was home schooled until the age of 12 when his parents finally decided to settle down and take up a more permanent residence. Luckily for David his mother and father were both well read and hadn't let his education slip their attention during this prolonged absence from the public system. Having been given a classical and more focused attention, David was quite advanced in all subjects compared to the grade his age had placed him in.

 

Besides the usual struggles found in the teenage years he more or less had an uneventful adolescence. Having inherited his parents travel bug and host to an incurable creative urge he decided to travel the world before studying in England at Central St Martins. He had long known he wanted to study Art and pursue that as his life but wished to see other people in different countries before dedicating himself to study.

 

His work currently focuses on two themes: The human tendency to see themselves in other things (typified by Pareidolia: The propensity to see faces in everyday objects) ; and the messy struggle between two amorphous or inexactly determined entities or forces (good and bad, left and right etc.).

Artist Statement

Nuair a bhí mé óg ghlac mé fein agus ​​mo athair chuig Aillte an Mhothair chun rionnt ama a chaitheamh a iniúchadh. Cháith mé an am seo ag ​​stánadh ar na cairn ollmhór carraigeacha agus patrúin a aimsiú iontu. Is dócha go bhfuil an rud is coiteannta ná luí siar agus súil suas go na scamaill agus samhlú cad iad na cruthanna nó a d’fhéadfadh a bheith. Is fearr liom a mbuaine de na haillte áfach.

Nuair a aithnítear mé cruth rinne mé iarracht coinnigh i gcuimhne ionas go mbeidh mé ábalta dul siar air nuair a d’fhill muid. Seo iad na cairde ba mhaith liom a athchuairt nuair is feidir agus bhí mé trína chéile muna raibh me in ann iad a athint, rud a tharlaíoch dá raibh an soilsiú difriúil, nó do athraigh an aimsir an chuma ar bhealach. Bhí fhios agaum go raibh siad ansin i bhfolac áfach, mar go raibh siad mar chuid na haille.

Ach is rud coitianta é aghaidhenna a aithint i earra. Tá sé sa duchas nuair a rugadh muid. Is é an eispéireas foghlama seo an chéad fíor ceim mar ceangailaíonn sé muid, ní amháin go dtí an mháithair ina bhfuil muid ag deanamh iarrachat a athain, ach go dtí leimt ar aghaidh ár speiceas. Is é aithint patrún bun ár clisteacht, is é creatlach ár teanga, agus is é bunchloch cumas plannáil agus réamhaithris. Mar is de gnáth is feidir samplaí níos simplí a fheiceáil in ainmhithe eile, ach níl cúmas na hainmihithe ar aon chéim le cúmas an duine. Tá an difríocht ollmhór.

Oiread agus is féidir liom, táim ag imirt leis an ceangail seo i cruthú mo chuid paintáil agus líníocht.

Nuiar a bhfuil mé ag cruthú mo obair ní thosnaím le íomha aghaidh. Ní chuireaim ach péint a chanbhás (nó céir / dúch a pháipéar) gan smaoineamh agus más rud é go thagann cuma aghaidh ar rúd is dócha go thagann an fo-chomhfhios i gceannas chun an obair a chríochnú. De bharr nach bhfuilim a smaionamh faoi an críochtháirge, go hiondúil níl an toradh deiridh cuma i ndáiríre cosúil le go leor seachas astarraingt.

 

Ag brath ar conas a n-airíonn mé d’fhéadfadh choinneáil an píosa débhríoch fós mar cuimhne ar randamacht na foirmíochtaí, amanna eile d’fhéadfadh é a scrios.

Is é ceangal chuig mo chairde ó Aillte an Mhothair na aghaigheanna seo, síneadh a buaine. Cruthaíotar ar dtús ag an timpeallacht thár na mílte bhlain agus creimthe ag am, ansin leath-cuimhint – athchruthaigh… agus creimthe aríos thár am. Is docha nach bhfuilim amháin ag breathnaigh thart na aghaidhenna carraigeacha, ach ag féach thart ar am agus coincheapa cosúil le mbuaine agus neamhbhuaine.

**

Translation:

When I was a child my father would take me to the Cliffs of Moher where we would spend some time exploring. For me most of it was spent staring at these enormous mounds of rocks and finding patterns in them. I suppose the common thing is to lie back and look up at the clouds and imagine what the shapes are or could be, but I preferred the permanence of these cliffs. When I found a shape I would commit it to memory and try to revisit it when we returned. These were friends I would revisit when I could and I would be upset if I couldn’t see them again, which would happen sometimes if the lighting was different, or the weather changed the appearance somehow. Knowing they were a part of the cliff though meant I could almost be sure they were still there, just hidden now.

I’m playing with this connection as much as I can in the creation of my paintings and drawings.

When I’m creating my works I don’t start with an image of a face in my head, I simply apply paint to canvas (or wax/ink to paper) without thinking. As I build up the lines if something begins to take the shape of a face the pattern seems to inform the subconscious and it finishes itself off. Because I’m not thinking about the finished product sometimes the end result doesn’t really look like much other than an abstraction. Depending on how I feel I might keep the ambiguous piece still as a reminder of the randomness of these formations, other times I’ll destroy it.

The resulting heads are a connection to those friends I made on the Cliffs of Moher, and an extension of their permanence. First created by the absent-minded environment over tens of thousands of years and eroded by time, then half-remember – created again…and once more these memories eroded by time. In a way I guess I’m not just exploring these rock faces, I’m exploring time and concepts like permanence and impermanence.

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