Day Trip to Troy
The brightening of the 6am sky was barely perceptible as we headed down the dual carriageway; the swollen river Suir reflected the streetlights along the quay and above this Waterford's waterfront roofline was silhouetted against a low cloud yellow with light pollution.
As we drove along the periodic street lights made a slow strobe of strange silhouettes across the interior of the car, obscuring and revealing my notepad as I wrote. Amy slapped at her face gently to keep refreshed as she steered us towards Granagh, and then onto the N24 to Limerick.
Today is the film industry open day at Troy Studios, a newly established venture to revitalise the film industry in Limerick and the surrounding areas. We were lucky enough to get added to the list of attendees, and only found this out a few short hours before our shit-o'clock start Saturday morning to make the 8.15am registration.
As we headed along the N24 the sky behind us gradually turned pale straw with the rising sun and ahead the road appeared a mottled black/blue, the wetness from last night's thunderstorms reflecting the changing light. Fog pooled in lowland areas adjoining the road, hanging in serene drifts in the middle of fields and gathering above the treetops in the distance. The route was populated with HGV's and morning speeders, presumably used to the twists and turns of the road and not at all observant of the generous speed limits.
Passing through Tipperary Town, we swung into the Applegreen and were served teas and buns by two chirpy members of staff, a refreshing encounter on this tired morning. We sat to a table and viewed the sun rising behind a steeple beyond the rim of a cup. Registration had already started at this stage, so as soon as we were fed and watered we got back on the road.
Ten minutes outside Limerick City we hit dense fog. Oncoming traffic emerged suddenly from the opaque air a few metres ahead of us, behind them other commuters just vague shadows before resolving into an identifiable shape and colour. Minutes later it resolved into a crisp and bright winter's day as we approached our destination .
We reached the entrance to an Castleytroy industrial estate, and on direction of the pink jacketed stewards we parked up outside what turned out to be the long closed Limerick Dell factory.
City East Plaza
We followed a path of two abreast paving slabs (typical of any industrial estate in the country. You know the kind) around the side of the building to a loading area half unfinished with walled-up loading bays and fenced off rubble, detritus and rebars. At the far end of this area a huge loose crowd of attendees were standing in groups, talking or sitting at the tables in front of the 3 food vans parked outside.
We went up the ramp, through a roller door, and transitioned from squinting into the low morning sun to the warm and cavernous darkness of 'A Stage' of Troy studios. I could sense scale of the room we entered and as my eyes adjusted I saw the queue for registration, and past this row upon row of neatly laid out folding chairs facing a stage with screen and podium. The stage set with red couches and lit by Tungsten studio lights; an island of features in the vastness of the empty factory space, the room spartan and ready for battle. Electrical conduits snaked along the sprayed and cladded walls, painted black to suck up the light and giving the sound a slight roll off without the distortive echo you'd find in hangar-like industrial spaces. The concrete floor was smooth and grey, above a gantry was suspended amidst the parallel span of RSJ's. The gantry must have been 8ft wide but the sense of scale was totally lost with the height of it.
As my pink wristband was being fastened the MC announced the first session of the morning. We took two spare seats a row apart in the dense crowd.
“...and for anyone on twitter, today's hashtag is #FilmLimerick” continued the speaker, and with this I suddenly became aware how far I was from my pool and the breadth of the wider community. Sitting in the midst of this mostly young crowd (at 30 years of age, I consider myself mostly young) I wondered how many had travelled since dawn to be here, how many had stayed overnight to attend.
Those who did secure their places and made the trip were attentive and the mood was light. An audio problem with the promo being projected elicited banter from the MC and drew a wave of laughter from the crowd.
Following this was an interesting discussion with the main people behind the recent film 'The Young Offenders' – Peter Foott (Director) & Julie Ryan (Producer). They spoke about shooting on the fly, working with a small crew and sourcing their actors. They also spoke about how they mocked up a load of cocaine for the film (a mixture of flour and castor sugar), but had bought waay too much flour initially. Peter's mam, an avid baker, ended up with the excess and had managed to use up the last of the 'Cocaine Flour' in time for the premiere a year later.
After a short interval this was followed by 2 panel discussions featuring industry professionals from a range of fields. They spoke about their path and their roles in the industry, and then answered questions from the floor. These talks were riveting, they had picked genuinely interesting people to speak about genuinely interesting topics. This was evident by how large the queue for the portaloos was during the short interval, and how non-existent the queue was during the talks; not a soul outside or an empty seat within to be seen.
The Rubberbandits rounded off the last section before lunch, creating an interesting and unexpected (though not uncharacteristic) counterpoint to the technical and industry talk which sandwiched their slot. Blindboy opened by saying “This talk is going to be as broad and awkward as a 40 year old at a debs”. The rustling of plastic came with each word he spoke, Mr Chrome watching on from the couch stage right. He began off by talking about their ongoing performance of socially engaged art termed 'Gas Cuntism' (so called because we're gas cunts!) which sought to make art that could be discussed and didn’t alienate the viewer. They referenced the Dadaism that existed before art “crawled up it's own hole” and spoke about Hyper Realist art that can exist outside of conventional time.The crux of it all though? Creativity and our emotional and mental wellbeing as creatives.
Something really resonated when they talked about Carl Rogers' and his 'conditions of worth'. The need to separate your identity from your work in order to be happy. What You Do is not Who You Are, and if you produce bad work that doesn't make you a bad person. If you create and at the end of the day all you have is a bundle of mistakes that is not failure. You can learn from these mistakes, and the real failure is in fact to do nothing.
A light went on within me listening to this, as I realised that I had in fact failed so many many times, for months on end through procrastination and self-doubt. Rather than just producing the work, learning and moving on I would instead sit on it, because if it is never finished it can never be judged, and vicariously I can never be judged.
In their own words “Embrace fuckin' failure!”
https://www.facebook.com/TheRubberbandits/posts/10154526516982200
This section of the day was just so perfect after the inspirational industry talk that preceded. Emotive and frank and honest, heartfelt and nourishing the emotional level of the community. It's not all about the gear.
could not stop taking pics of this thing.
The morning's talks felt like a day that passed in an hour, the massive space cozy like a living room, the sound perfectly balanced and the crowd around me melted away as the speakers were projected large and life-sized on the screen behind them, giving the impression of proximity.
The programme directed us to 'B Stage' for the afternoon demonstrations. On the way there we passed Troy's main reception so we ducked in to have a firk. We found long empty corridors, massive bare rooms viewable through security glass, and a map high on the wall showing where we were, and how it connected to everything else. Facilities for make up, green rooms, tech rooms, stores, all the amenities laid out around the edge of the site with empty spaces in the middle.
We headed onto the 'B Stage', another massive room verbatim to the first but half the size and with an ubiquitous murmur of industry chatter. Displays were set up along the walls and people gravitated around their particular areas of interest; Costume construction, costume design, prosthetics, model making, camera & lighting from the ETB in Tralee, Post Production VFX & AR/VR filmmaking. Studio lights pointed every which way, a massive jib held a camera half way up to the ceiling, C300's and Reds sat clamped onto dollies and sliders as nearby mannequins were dressed in period finery.
Even at an event of this size, we still met a few familiar faces. A sign of how small the community is in Ireland, and potentially how simple it is to join the dots. I got the opportunity to speak with Paul Gererd O'Connor, a photographer who had transitioned into being a Gaffer. He told me about his experiences and what worked for him, leaving me with many things to think about as the crowd thinned and we made shapes to head home.
I took in more of the details on the way out. Externally it looked just like any derelict factory, but within a perfect space to create magic.
What was a hollow reminder of the blow to the region when Dell closed in 2009 now housed a nascent venture with international appeal that might yet fill the huge facility with life.
once more on the way out...
Easy to find the car in the now empty carpark. I took the wheel for the home leg
Long queue for one of the panel members
