The turbulent, murky swirls of water do not make it easy for swimmers braving the River Liffey on this fine day. Fortunately, a clear blue sky peers behind the pinkish white clouds overhead, luring thousands of people onto O'Connell Bridge and the riverbank. Open-topped trams are brimming over with excited spectators. All are anxious for a view of the race. The atmosphere and race are simply thrilling.
The Liffey Swim, depicted here by Jack B. Yeats in his 1923 painting, won the silver medal at the Paris Olympics in 1924 when art was a short-lived category. It was the first Olympic medal awarded to Ireland as an independent country. The swim, which started in Dublin in 1920, has been immortalised for generations of international spectators by the painting, featuring at venues from the 1939 San Francisco World Fair to Monaco's Centre de Congres in 1990.
"The painting is far more famous than the actual event," says Dr Hilary Pyle, curator of the Yeats Museum at the National Gallery, which acquired the picture in 1930 under the newly established Haverty Bequest Trust. She's not wrong. But Yeats knew that the Liffey Swim had something extra. The fact that it still exists 80 years later is a testament to his instincts: around 200 men and 100 women are expected to take part next Saturday.
The event, like the picture, has stood the test of time: as both an artist and follower of Irish sport, Yeats was well suited to capture its visceral, emotional highs. Judging by his painting, he knew it was poetry in motion. As Samuel Beckett famously wrote of Yeats in 1945: "He is with the great of our time, because he brings light, as only the great dare to bring light, to the issueless predicament of existence." (Or the sludgy depths of the River Liffey.)
"There is a foretaste of the spirituality of his later work," Pyle says of the oil painting. "The figures in the water could be figures in the race for life." Indeed. The rich, bold brushstrokes of blazing red and dark greens and blues create a frantic sense of movement along the surface of the river. Yeats freely applied the oil directly to the canvas without first mixing the colours, capturing the swimmers' aggressive, frantic movements.
The Liffey Swim marks his transformation into a painter of international stature. By the 1930s, he was certainly among Ireland's most renowned painters. His new-found fluidity as an abstract colourist and painter brings the stamina of the swimmers to life. This vibrancy leaves an impression of a precious moment captured in time.
Pyle even suggests that Yeats may have painted himself into the crowd. (See for yourself if you can spot him.) To view The Liffey Swim from many perspectives - near and far - is to appreciate its raw energy. For the 75th anniversary of the race, the National Gallery commissioned a photographer to take a picture from the artist's perspective, encompassing both Bachelor's Walk and the long stretch of the river. But recreating Yeats's exaggerated perspective proved impossible.
There is one view that the best of us wouldn't be too quick to see: that from the water. Mick Fitzpatrick has seen it more than 40 times. Perhaps wisely, at 67, he is no longer competing in this race. But he's looking forward to September 2nd, hoping it will be the biggest race of recent years. The race has recently been without a sponsor, but he believes the involvement of Toyota, which will fly 140 flags along the bank, will help add to the pre-swim fanfare.
To lend an extra competitive edge, Toyota has introduced prizes for the first man and woman under various bridges along the way. There will even be decontamination tanks for the swimmers afterwards. But let's face it, we'll all be thinking: "It's no Blue Lagoon." So, was Fitzpatrick worried about catching cooties? "To tell you the God's honest truth, when I started swimming the Liffey Swim in 1952, you'd come out looking like Al Jolson. Today, participants swim on a cushion of clean water, coming down from Leixlip on a falling tide."
If you're worried about the temperature, he says, get out of the water - and the race: "You don't really notice that because your adrenaline is running as you're pounding along. You also don't take in the spectators because you're putting in everything you can to come first. If you do notice the onlookers, you're not swimming it properly. There are 30 open-season races this year. You have to complete at least five to qualify for the Liffey Swim."
"It'll be a tremendous spectacle on the day, given any sort of weather. It's one of the great free shows," Fitzpatrick adds. "I had the distinction of winning it in 1980. With the fitness I had then, I could have swum to Holyhead that night. One of the prizes is a framed print of the Jack B. Yeats. Every time I look at that painting, I think of the evening I won the Liffey Swim."
DURING the war and after, the Swim was one of the great occasions in the summer, says sociologist and historian Dr Cyril White. "The walls had tens of thousands watching it as in the picture. It started at Guinness's Wharf. In those days, there was a barge from where the racers started and it finished near the old Irish Press building on the quays. It now finishes at the front of the Custom House. The winner's cup was traditionally filled with champagne."
The race's conception was almost accidental. Three swimmers - Ben Fagan, Gus Cullen and Harry Brennan - were crossing O'Connell Bridge late one night on their way back from the AGM of the Irish Amateur Swimming Association at the old Clarence Hotel. Peering over the parapet, they agreed it'd be a great place to have a race, even though two of the group were concerned about the quality of the water.
Fagan, a city analyst at Dublin Corporation, apparently said: "A lot of people think sewage drains into it, but it doesn't. I think I can give you a certificate." He did and the Liffey Swim was born. More than 20 years later, his 17-year-old son, Jack Fagan, came third on his first attempt at the Swim. In 1951 he won, earning his place in local sporting history. One newspaper headline exclaimed, "Founder's Son Wins Thrilling Liffey Swim".
Fagan swam it perhaps 15 times over the years, he says, giving a rough calculation of his years as a lithe athlete of some distinction. "I played about 20 years in senior water polo," he recalls. "We'd look on those long-distance swimming races as training to build up stamina. On the 75th anniversary of the Liffey Swim the winners were invited to the Mansion House by the Lord Mayor and given medals."
Of course, the Liffey Swim doesn't attract anything like the crowds in the painting. It may even appear provincial by today's sporting standards. But it's worth supporting those foolhardy enough to brave its waters. Plus, it's not often one gets the chance to relive an oil painting. And who knows? You may fancy you see the ghostly figure of Jack B. Yeats watching what will be the first Liffey Swim of the new millennium - happily sketching, unnoticed among the crowd.
The first race of the Liffey Swim starts from Victoria Quay at 2.45 p.m. on Saturday, September 2nd. The Liffey Swim by Jack B. Yeats is part of the Yeats Museum at the National Gallery in Dublin