BECOMING
TALLAGHT 2025

PHOTOGRAPHY
ARCHIVE

A person with short hair, glasses, and a goatee in all white with their hand on their hip, holding a feather duster. They are standing outside a church beside a ladder.
A person at the top of a ladder underneath a stone arch on the outside of a church. In one hand they hold a feather duster and with the other they lean against the side of the arch as they climb.
Austin Hearne, dressed in all white, dusts the edges of a tall arch on the outside of a church.
A feather duster rests against the top of a ladder. A person wearing shorts, white socks with frills, and black leather shoes scuffed with white paint straddles the top of the ladder.
  • Oh dear Tallaght Priory, your brutal 1970s concrete arches loom over the new families of husbands, wives and the many children that make up this growing townland. Behind you, frock-clad men spew forth twisted ideas about women, the family, sexual morality, contraception, abortion and homosexuality. My peachy baby head was dowsed with holy water over your baptismal font in 1973. I didn’t ask to become a member of your rotten organisation, and I have no recourse to leave. So 52 years later, I’m back to prance and dust away cobwebs from your concrete arches like the big pansy that you abhor. This is, after all, my church.
A person with curly pink and blue hair reads from a thin strip of paper in front of a larg dark green tree
A person in all black with curly pink and blue hair blows air into a silver balloon
A person with silver, gold, and blue balloons pinned all over their clothing crouches on the pavement in front of the South Dublin County Hall building
A person with short brown hair and a bright orange sweater pins a balloon to a person in all black with balloons all over their cloak.
A person in all black with balloons pinned to their arms holds a piece of sandstone in each of their hands, almost touching
A person with pale skin and balloons pinned all over their clothing rolls up a strip of paper that reads 'i am following the path' five times
A close shot of two hands unraveling a strip of paper that reads 'trying to see with-' two balloons block either side of the view
A person with balloons pinned all over their clothing rubs two pieces of sandstone together as they walk alongside a fence. They have a blank expression on their face.
  • We give them data–they give us hot air.
    Terra is an android technological diviner who has been hired to map the route of heat produced from the AWS data center through the public utility system that is used to warm select municipal buildings in Tallaght. Her embodied actions create a double tracing through footsteps and collected breaths; bodily rhythms keeping pace with machinic tempos. The performance culminates in a Ritual of Tracing to be presented outside the South Dublin County offices.

    Hot Air asks what happens when we attune ourselves to the invisible flows of our computational infrastructures, drawing attention to our unacknowledged entanglements and complicities with these systems.

    This performance is part of an ongoing collaboration between Putnam and author Mike McCormack, initially presented as Under the Feet of Shadows, which merges science fiction with folklore, imagined and actual mythologies, and histories of technology in Ireland as a multimedia speculative inquiry.
Emma Brennan, dressed in all black with a black veil, leads a crowd down the sidewalk next to an empty road. Pots hang down the front of their body which they hit with woodeen spoons.
Emma Brennan, wearing a black veil, leans away from the camera with her eyes shut. Three old metal pots rest on their chest.
Emma Brennan leans back into a large stone bowl-shaped structure in a cemetery outside of a church. Pots and pans hang from their clothing.
Emma Brennan lays on the edge of a large stone bowl, their foot pointed up and towards it center, hand outstretched along the rim.
Sitting in a large stone bowl, Emma Brennan holds part of a sack over her head, tilting it slightly so the grains inside fall to the other end on the floor
Kneeling in the center of a large stone bowl Emma Brennan leans to one side with her eyes shut. Pots hang down the front of her body and a sack rests over her left knee.
Emma Brennan holds a long narrow sack over her head in one hand as she looks off toward the distance. She holds the open end in her other hand, tipping grains into a pot hooked onto her body under her shoulder.
In her black veil, Emma Brennan gently touches the edge of a stone bowl
  • Thresh/Hold is a site-responsive performance rooted in the grotesque as a methodology of excavation, disruption, and transformation. Set within the Losset at St. Maelruain’s Church, the work stages a charged encounter between Tallaght-born poets Katharine Tynan and Alice Furlong. Through live action, text, and ritual, it explores entangled legacies of empire, faith, land, and gendered voice.

    The performance draws a sharp contrast between Tynan’s Palestine: 1917 and Furlong’s The Warnings. The friction between the two becomes a way to confront ongoing histories of erasure. The Losset once a vessel of communal sustenance, becomes altar, protest, and threshold. This performance act is an embodied gesture of resistance and solidarity, calling attention to what is being omitted in our histories, our present narratives and our potential future records. 
Katherine Nolan stops as a stoplight, holding a melon against her body. Baby clothes stuffed with fabric are pinned to her shirt and hung around her neck.
Katherine Nolan leads an audience down a sidewalk. She crries a yelllow melon and an overwhelming number of baby clothes hang from her body.
Barefoot, Katherine Nolan jumps on a trampoline in a dark wooded area. Her mouth is open as if she is yelling. Baby clothes hang from her body and she holds a baby onsie with a melon inside of it in each hand.
Katherine Nolan takes one of the baby onsies tied around her neck and puts it over the head of a spectator, who kneels in front of her.
  • A mother walks through Tallaght village, laden down with little bodies, their arms clutching at her neck and legs dangling as she moves. Both visceral and absurd, this performance asks viewers to consider what it is like to bear the weight of care. Mothers' bare bodies in their bodies, sometimes those bodies are lost or never come into being, sometimes mothers are unable to nourish the bodies they are tasked with caring for. The physical and emotional burden can be at times unbearable, and yet invisible.  The
    Mother Load makes the weight of motherhood visible, in all its burden, messiness and absurdity. Travelling from the mundanity of the supermarket, this performance drags motherhood through the streets to the elevated heights of the arches at St. Mary’s Priory. 

    Audience members can choose to bring and donate an object of their relationship to motherhood if they wish: a baby grow outworn or one never worn, something sullied, something precious – if it’s hard to let go, the Mother Load will bear the weight for you.
A person with a dark brown ponytail watches as milk drips from a long sock they hold out in front of them
A person pours pints of milk into the sneakers they're wearing. The shoes are white but worn and visibly dirty.
The legs of a person barely
Against a grey background, person facing away from the camera pops a large balloon in the shape of the number 1. Next to it, silver balloons of the numbers 3, 1, 0 remain intact.
  • In exploring the history of the name Tallaght, I discovered its Old Irish roots, meaning “a place of burial” or “a high grave.” Its etymology is stark: one part linked to death, contagion, and impurity; the other to stones, monuments, and remembrance. These weighty, archetypal associations connect deeply with my reflections on the war in Ukraine; now in its eleventh year, including seven years of hybrid conflict and over three years of full-scale invasion. This war is about loss and suffering, about bodies that no longer breathe and hearts that struggle to trust. It is about scars — visible and invisible — etched into the body of a nation, into memory, language, and the architecture of silence. 

    My performance seeks to bring together the visible and the invisible, to show how war imprints itself on cities and on the human body. It lingers in the cracks of buildings, in inner fractures, in memories that disturb sleep, and in silence that echoes across generations. This silence is not emptiness, but the roar of pain without words. Performance as memory. An archaeology of suffering. Ecocide. The ethics of presence.
Three people sit inside a small RV with dated decor. The ceiling is divided in half, with mementos from the republic of ireland on one side and their counterparts from the North on the other.
The Goose and the Common—Launch Event
Shiro Masayuma sits inside his RV
A close up on the roof of a camper van shows the different in branding between items in the Republic of Ireland versus the North. Monopoly board games, Tayto bags, and license plates feature on both sides of a dividing line.
  • As a Japanese artist based in Belfast, Northern Ireland, Masuyama has converted the interior of a caravan into two parts: one half related to Irish culture and the other half to British culture. Many of the items, symmetrically displayed on their respective sides, have counterparts in both cultures. Since relocating to Belfast in 2010, Masuyama has often grappled with the nuances of what separates Irish and British identity within the region’s complex society. This project has become a way of learning and exploring those cultural subtleties through conversations with people who step inside the caravan. The work is continually evolving, as the artist adds new objects, refines the display, and adapts it in response to dialogue. Approaching the project from an outsider’s perspective, neither religious nor politically aligned, Masuyama brings a sense of neutrality to the inquiry. While the caravan can be difficult to entice people into, given its association with private space, those who do enter are invariably intrigued. Visitors often begin reflecting on Irish and British culture, wider society, and their own personal histories.
Rachel MacManus kneels on all fours looking straight ahead. They are covered in gold paint, wearing a red tank top and a gold skirt draped over red leggings.
Rachel MacManus, wearing athletic gear and painted head-to-toe in gold, stretches their right arm up and over their body.
A painted gold Rachel MacManus leads two attendees in a stretch as they all reach for their toes.
Rachel Macmanus speaks into a mic as she holds her body in a reverse table top position. Bright gold fabric is draped over her body and falls to the ground at her hips.
A close up of Rachel MacManus' painted gold hand on the edge of an exercise step-up box
A side view of Rachel MacManus' face. Her ears and jaw are painted gold and the rest of her face is bare
  • Nowadays, exercise has become a marketed, commercialised commodity. Fitness and weight loss are equated to being good, and the lack of being perceived as bad. Trying to find a middle ground is not always easy for people, and in Ireland, we struggle with high obesity levels. According to Buddhist tradition, the Buddha taught a Middle Way between sensual indulgence and severe asceticism, leading to freedom from ignorance, craving, rebirth and suffering. In Keep Fit Tallaght, exercise is neither a punishment nor a panacea. The Buddha as exercise instructor teaches a middle way between ultra marathons and staying on the couch. Our fitness class will be a community experience, a joyous spectacle, a middle way where your instructor invites you to consider: who do we worship and what brings us joy? What is valuable to us?
A person with bright green and purple hair leans over, obscuring their face, holding a first-size sphere of marble in each of their hands, close to their chest.
Pale hands from someone in all black gently pass a white sphere of marble to a person in a blue jacket.
Tara puts their hands into a round impression in a wide flat stone. Next to them rests a marble sphere in a similar divet.
Tara holds the two marble spheres up to their chest, looking off into the distance
  • The performance explores the ways that sacred, disability and transgender embodiment(s) are all structured by reference to notions of wholeness, perfection and cure. The social order dreams of a cure for both disabled bodies and trans bodies. Their existence challenges the notions of completeness and transcends bodily possibilities.

    The performance will take place at the bulán stones in St.Mary’s Priory Garden. Bulán stones are said to be where saintly bodies have touched or rested on. The disembodiment of a sacred body on their journey to sainthood offers completeness, either through the reunion of parts into a whole or through the assertion of a part to become whole. The saintly body is produced by and shared among a community.

    The performance challenges the fixed senses of community, instead creating asynchronous communities through ripples, touches and interflows. It pivots on the transference of touch; we are in community with others we might never meet.