Limerick in black and white

A few years ago, I finally sorted through and archived many of my old negatives. Looking through them brought back a rush of memories. This series of black and white photographs comes from my time in Limerick City while studying printmaking and photography at Limerick School of Art & Design in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

I borrowed a college 35mm camera whenever I could. Photography became my excuse to wander. I spent countless hours walking through streets, laneways and housing estates, getting to know a city that was still new to me. I rarely had a destination. I let curiosity lead me, photographing whatever caught my attention.

One day I wandered into Old Irishtown, one of the oldest parts of Limerick, with roots stretching back to the Middle Ages. It was in the process of being demolished, street by street, to make way for redevelopment 'a new Limerick’. Very little of this old area has been saved, which is such a shame. Looking back now, I'm grateful that I photographed what remained. Very little of that old neighbourhood survives today

At the time I wasn't consciously documenting history. I just took pictures of places that interested me. Only later did I realise these photos had become records of buildings, streets, and ways of life that are now gone. They show me how valuable photography is for preserving memories of places that have disappeared. This idea still guides much of my work today, especially as I document the changing cityscapes in Dublin.

I loved living in Limerick. Its rough edges reminded me of my hometown, Dundalk, but it still felt different. The city had an energy and creativity that inspired me. Limerick seemed open, welcoming, and full of possibilities.

Most of the time I lived in Limerick, I stayed on Lower Mount Street and paid €17.50 a week for a shared flat. The place was simple. There was no central heating, just a small open fire that we used often. The wallpaper was faded, the carpets were worn, and the thin curtains over the old windows hardly kept out the cold. Still, I loved it.

I once talked to a friend about Limerick. She told me said she went there on holiday as a young child and she always seems to remember it in black and white. I understood exactly what she meant.

Many years later some of my Limerick photographs were published in Winter Papers 3 a yearly arts anthology by Kevin Barry and his wife Olivia Smith. Others photographs were published by Askeaton Contemporary Arts in a publication which is for sale, titled 'Scenes from the analogue city' alongside words by Kevin Barry. They also pop up in an RTÉ Doc on One radio drama, Digging for Fire.