Now is the season for fine art auctions and one of the largest yet this year takes place tomorrow at Dublin's RHA Gallagher Gallery. What is apparent from even a cursory glance through the sales catalogue is just how many landscape pictures are on offer, writes Robert O'Byrne
All the genre's familiar names are here: Paul Henry; Maurice Canning Wilks; Maurice MacGonigal; Letitia Hamilton. And all of them portraying much the same image of Ireland - a panoramic view of unspoilt countryside, usually somewhere along the western seaboard, in which the only evidence of humanity is a handful of white-washed cottages nestling somewhere in the foreground.
This is the familiar image of Ireland, which has been cherished since landscape painting emerged in this country in the second half of the 18th century. Such paintings remain enormously popular; just ask the dealers and auctioneers who find a ready market for west of Ireland views. But although the Irish landscape remains unaltered on canvas, in reality it has changed utterly during the past decade and looks set to undergo even greater transformation over the next few years.
That is the scenario unless the arguments against rural development in its current ad-hoc form are heeded. At present, since the principal proponent of those arguments is An Taisce, rampant alteration of the Irish countryside seems inevitable. Down the length of the western counties, An Taisce is hated, accused earlier this year by members of Mayo County Council of being a "faceless body" attempting to "bury rural Ireland".
Last week in the Leitrim/Cavan area, local groups announced they would band together to fight against what a spokesman called An Taisce's "blanket objections" to planning applications in the regions. In the west, the organisation is perceived as being opposed to progress and to local people building houses on their own lands.
This perception is widespread and likely to spread further unless An Taisce immediately addresses its public image problems. As a body, it appears to deal only in negatives, forever opposing planning applications, constantly criticising new developments, always attempting to halt the demolition of old buildings.
ITS pronouncements invariably sound like a strict teacher rebuking recalcitrant pupils and therein lies its difficulty: the tone, and not the content of what is being said, has left a lasting impact and led to widespread loathing of the organisation.
Much of what An Taisce advocates in sustainable housing is admirable and most of the accusations levelled against it are ludicrous. But land ownership and property rights, especially in the west of Ireland, are intensely emotive issues. An Taisce needs to understand its audience better before making further comments on rural development, because otherwise the likelihood these will make a difference is remote.
That would be appalling, as An Taisce has never been more needed. The organisation claims that some 36 per cent of all new housing is in the countryside, the majority of this being "one-off" homes unrelated to any other building. Although the specifics of these statistics have been disputed, what is undeniable is that an enormous number of individual houses have been constructed throughout rural Ireland of late.
Archaeologist Séamus Caulfield recently argued that this ribbon development is "the predominant form of rural settlement in Ireland" with a "tradition stretching back into prehistory". But there is a danger in citing tradition - on that basis all new houses should be low, dank cottages with white-washed walls and thatched roofing.
Sometimes traditions must be abandoned. An Taisce believes this must happen with the long-standing right of property-owners to build what they want on their own lands. In this matter, the organisation's greatest strength lies in what is usually cited as a drawback: that it is an independent, disinterested body, the members of which can expect no immediate advantage from their efforts.
Especially in the current climate of intense hostility, what could possibly explain someone supporting or joining An Taisce, other than a desire to improve this country's environment, both natural and built? It is grotesquely parochial of the organisation's critics to argue, as they have done frequently, that only those who live in an area should have any say in its development.
THIS is not the US. Our island is sufficiently small to travel its length in less than a day. Wherever we live, what happens to our surroundings should concern us all; the sprawling suburbanisation of Dublin ought to matter as much to the people of Mayo as to the capital's residents.
It is this collective responsibility and communal interest which An Taisce has the potential to embody. The regrettably clientalist nature of Irish politics means our representatives at local and national level must forever consider the consequences of their actions for the next elections.
We therefore need to have organisations which can look beyond the immediate interests of the local few to the long-term wellbeing of the many. This may mean that sometimes planning applications are refused because they would not benefit the wider community. A disinterested body such as An Taisce is best placed to see that wider perspective and to look beyond short-term advantage.
The benefits of having such an organisation must be understood even when its objections to local development are deplored. Otherwise, it is possible that soon the only views of unspoilt Irish landscape will be found inside gilt frames at auction rooms.
John Waters is on leave