Kerry literary festival ‘deeply appreciates' €25,000 award funding
Minister for Tourism, Culture, Arts, Gaeltacht, Sport and Media, Patrick O'Donovan, visited Listowel during the festival meet with organisers and festivalgoers at St John's Theatre for a special event.
As part of his visit, Minister O'Donovan announced a funding award of €25,000 to Listowel Writers' Week in recognition of its enduring contribution to literature and community engagement.
He said the Listowel Writers' Week team work seamlessly to combine local literary life with overseas writers of renown. The minister added that such a system succeeds in bringing people together to enjoy the written word in all its forms.
'I am always heartened by the level of community participation and support involved in making this event happen on the ground, and I commend all those involved,' said Minister O'Donovan.
The Chairman of Listowel Writers' Week Ned O'Sullivan warmly welcomed the minister's remarks and financial support, adding that the organisers of Ireland's oldest festival are truly grateful for the ongoing support of Listowel Writers' Week.
'This magnificent funding award recognises the importance of our work. Minister O'Donovan's encouragement for the arts and engagement with communities like ours is deeply appreciated and helps sustain our efforts year after year,' he said.
The 2025 Listowel Literary Festival was a collaborative initiative with Kerry Writers' Museum, and St John's Theatre & Arts Centre. The festival concluded on Sunday with the organisers satisfied that this year's festival was a huge success with numbers up on many events.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Extra.ie
3 hours ago
- Extra.ie
Ireland to become one of the first countries to clamp down on AI deepfakes
Ireland is set to follow Denmark in becoming one of the first countries to clamp down on the creation and dissemination of AI-generated deepfakes, has learned. It comes after the Danish government announced this week plans to change copyright laws to grant people ownership of their voice, body, and facial features. Sources this weekend said Culture Minister Patrick O'Donovan has requested a meeting with his Danish counterpart, Jakob Engel-Schmidt, to discuss ways to strengthen protection against digital imitations of people's identities. Patrick O'Donovan. Pic: Leah Farrell/ The Government is increasingly concerned about the use of AI-generated deepfakes in criminal activity. Irish writers have also lobbied the Coalition amid criticism of tech giant Meta, which has harvested or 'scraped' the written works of high-profile authors including Sally Rooney, John Banville and President Michael D Higgins. A Government source confirmed Minister O'Donovan will meet with Mr Engel-Schmidt in the coming weeks. Minister for Culture Jakob Engel-Schmidt. Pic: Kristian Tuxen Ladegaard Berg/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images) They told 'The Minister has reached out to his Danish colleague, and he will be meeting him shortly to see what can be done. 'It sounds quite interesting what Denmark is doing. They [the Danish government] are figuring out ways to deal with this in a way that is effective.' The source said discussion of what new laws can be introduced here to combat deepfake scammers will be at the top of the agenda. Deepfakes. Pic: Shutterstock The new Danish legislation comes amid some growing concerns across Europe about rapidly developing AI technology that has made it easier than ever to create a convincing fake image, video or sound to mimic the voice or features of another person. Once approved, the changes to Danish copyright law will give individuals the right to demand that online platforms remove such content if it is shared without consent. The legislation will also cover 'realistic, digitally generated imitations' of an artist's performance without consent. Violation of the proposed rules could result in compensation for performers who are affected. The Danish government said the new rules would not affect parodies and satire. Asked if they supported the introduction of similar legislation and penalties here, a spokesman for Ireland's media and online safety regulator, Coimisiún na Meán, said: 'The questions are quite technical… I will have a response on Monday [tomorrow] definitely.' While Ireland's Data Protection Commission (DPC), which is responsible for policing tech giants whose European headquarters are based in Dublin, also did not respond to queries asking if similar laws should be introduced in Ireland. A spokesman would only say: 'Individuals can complain to the Data Protection Commissioner where they believe their personal data has been breached in some manner. 'The Data Protection Commission receives complaints from individuals in relation to the processing of their personal data.' The DPC can also order the removal of online images of people if they have been posted without their consent. It can fine tech companies up to 4% of their global turnover if they refuse to comply with its orders. However, the DPC has faced criticism at home and abroad for its perceived failure to enforce laws to protect individuals' data rights from big tech companies. In January, the European Court of Justice ordered the DPC to pay the legal costs of a doomed case that it took against the European Data Protection Board. This came after the EU data watchdog criticised a DPC ruling against people who made complaints against Meta and its popular message-sharing platform WhatsApp.
Irish Times
3 days ago
- Irish Times
How plans for new Guggenheim museum have triggered major biodiversity row in Spain
It's easy to forget today the proposal to build a franchise for the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain , was deeply divisive when first proposed in the early 1990s. The idea that the autonomous Basque authorities would finance every aspect of the museum, while exercising no control over its internationally-orientated artistic policy, was anathema to many who saw Basque culture fighting for its own survival. Yet today, architect Frank Gehry's monumental titanium palace has become the icon of the regeneration of this once decayed industrial city, as many of its erstwhile critics have conceded, and it attracts hundreds of thousands of tourists annually. However, a project aspiring to repeat the 'Bilbao miracle', and extend the museum into the heart of the region's most important biodiversity hotspot, has sparked equally furious and perhaps better-informed opposition, and the outcome remains very open. The plan, under consideration for nearly 20 years, is to build a hub and conference centre in the historic town of Guernica, officially Gernika in Basque. Much more contentiously, this hub is to be linked with an entirely new museum on the site of a decommissioned (though still active) shipyard, at Murueta. This site lies at an especially sensitive point on the Urdaibai estuary, which carries Guernica's river Oka to the sea. READ MORE These two points would be connected by a walkway/cycleway/light rail route right along the vulnerable edge of the water body. The estuary is a major migration flyway, as well as a wintering ground and a breeding area for marine and marshland birds. On paper, Urdaibai enjoys a very high level of environmental protection. It is a Unesco biosphere reserve, a Ramsar-recognised wetland of international importance, including two special bird protection areas (SPAs) and three special areas of conservation (SACs) as part of the EU's Natura 2000 network. But as we know all too well in Ireland, such protections offer few real-world guarantees. Seventy-seven local, national and international environmental groups, from the Mediterranean Alliance for Wetlands, and 250 scientists, have recently supported a 'red alert' manifesto, appealing for the Guggenheim plan to be abandoned, directed to the Spanish ministry for ecological transition, Unesco and Ramsar. 'What they plan here is an ecocide,' says one of the opposition, Joseba del Villar, who works in the area as a biologist and photographer. 'Destroying nature in exchange for massive tourism and cement.' View of the Urdaibai estuary from the eastern margin. Photograph: Joseba del Villar It's certainly true that the new tourists will hardly be coming to see the birds: Urdaibai already boasts a discreet but very well equipped observation centre for nature lovers. The view from the Guggenheim side of the argument is, unsurprisingly, different, if often hard to pin down precisely. The museum claims the project is a significant attempt to engage contemporary culture with issues such as climate change, biodiversity loss and degradation, with many of the artworks, both along the walkway and in Murueta itself, to be dedicated to these themes. A senior Guggenheim source, close to the project from the outset but who prefers not to be named, argues there has never been a more appropriate time to bring these two themes together, with many artists already engaged in such synergies, and that Urdaibai is an ideal place to highlight their work. He also notes the hinterland is the second-most depressed area economically in the Basque Country, and says the project will bring badly needed jobs and services. Certainly, some local mayors and their supporters want to see the new Guggenheim project happen. He is dismissive of claims extra visitors (up to 140,000 during the summer months) would cause significant disturbance to the bird life, and claims the walkway connection was chosen precisely to minimise such impacts. Besides, he says, 'Urdaibai is not the Amazon. The beaches in summer are already packed with people.' He does not grant much credibility to the scientific credentials of the opposition, though he cannot name a single scientist who has supported the Guggenheim-Urdaibai project. 'Many of these opposition groups are very ideologically motivated,' he says,' adding they would not be so opposed to the initiative 'if it did not bear an American and Jewish name'. Aitor Gallarza, a biologist with long experience in the area, agrees only that there is already far too much disturbance for the area's important bird populations. 'There are fewer birds here all the time, and people can enter from all points, denying the birds the space and tranquillity they need.' But what is required, he adds, is not a new cultural industry but the ecological restoration of sites such as Murueta, which have been degraded for decades. 'This new museum could be anywhere,' he says, 'they have given no explanation why they want to do it here. They have given us no detail of what the museum will really consist in.' He is sceptical about the attachment of labels such as 'ecological' to the walkway. 'We can't have more people all over the place and call it sustainable.' An osprey eating a fish in Urdaibai; this species remains a passage migrant in the estuary, but attempts to reintroduce it as a breeding species have failed so far, possibly due to already existing tourist numbers. Photograph: Joseba del Villar Lore Terri, the local Greenpeace representative, says 'culture should not threaten biodiversity, especially where there is a nucleus of protected sites'. 'This place is very rich in species. It is the second most important migratory pathway for the spoonbill, and a significant area for osprey and Egyptian vulture, all species that need places to rest in quiet. It was home to the critically endangered European mink.' The latter is now awaiting a reintroduction programme. 'We talk about the European nature restoration law, and then they want to do all this building and subsequent disturbance, which will have the opposite effect, no matter what they say,' she says. The claims made by the only major report on the museum's plans, made in a 2009 draft by New York architects Cooper Robertson and updated in 2022, are vague if ambitious. While recognising the need for more stakeholder input, the report states that the Murueta museum will be 'as radically new a paradigm for the area as the Guggenheim was for Bilbao'. The report, which is summarised on the museum's rather sketchy account of the project on its website , lays great stress on the idea that the visiting experience will be much less frenetic than is the norm at its giant urban forbear. It asserts that, through consideration of the environment and sustainability in the context of the biosphere reserve, the museum will respond to climate change and 'be a positive influence on its surroundings'. It goes so far as to say the museum will have 'an important role in advanced ecology' and in 'regenerating endangered and damaged ecosystems' as well as effecting social and economic transformation. But it is distinctly thin on the specifics, just as it is on how the museum will 'host artworks attuned to the local landscapes and ecosystems'. An artistic focus on ecological themes is certainly desirable, but hardly at the cost of damaging and disturbing crucially important ecological sites. Eider Gotxi, chair of the citizen's group Guggenheim-Urdaibai STOP, questions these aspirations. She freely acknowledges the site in the local capital city has done much to 'recuperate a degraded area'. But she emphasises, unlike Bilbao, with its rich infrastructure, Urdaibai cannot support a new influx of tourists: 'We just don't have the resources.' She is concerned about amendments to the laws protecting the coastline around Murueta, which are being reduced from 100m to 20m to facilitate the construction of the museum, she claims. She seems to feel her side may be gaining ground. In a recent meeting with the new director of the museum, Miren Arzalluz, she extracted the information that no decision has been taken by the Guggenheim's complex Basque governing trust as to whether to proceed with the plan or not. 'It is still all under reflection,' Gotxi claims Arzalluz conceded. Arzalluz told The Irish Times it was too early in her tenure to give an interview on the project. But she did send a tentative statement about it which claimed: 'The initiative will encourage appreciation and understanding of ecology and nature by increasing and improving the range of environmental, artistic, educational and cultural experiences available to the public.' Gotxi responded with what is perhaps the central point of the debate: 'For us, the reserve is already a living museum of incalculable value in its landscapes, biological, geological and cultural heritage.' In the UN Decade on Restoration, a Unesco biosphere reserve would surely be better employed by enhancing the biological resources of such a natural treasure rather than putting them in further danger through creating a new artificial one; however attractive it might be.
Irish Times
5 days ago
- Irish Times
How Ireland's landmark €325-a-week arts scheme changed my life – I've never taken it for granted
In August 2022, after two years of pandemic shutdowns, the arts sector in Ireland was on its knees. It hadn't been doing too well before Covid-19 , but in the face of a global virus, it all but evaporated. Government restrictions forced cinemas, theatres, performance venues, galleries and any arts-related spaces to shut down. Tens of thousands of people lost their jobs , myself included. In an already struggling sector, it was the death knell for the careers of many artists and arts workers. After tireless work by the National Campaign for the Arts and Theatre Forum, former minister for arts Catherine Martin announced the introduction of a Basic Income for the Arts (BIA) scheme. This was to be a three-year research project, funded by the EU, funnelled through the Irish government. It would cost between €150,000-€200,000. Out of 8,000 eligible applicants, 2,000 were selected in an anonymised and randomised process. I was one of those 2,000 people. The BIA was an intervention to try to save a sinking ship. The severe impact of the pandemic on artists and arts workers was preceded by years of financial cuts and dwindling budgets. The sector had suffered massive cuts during the 2008 recession, and funding never made its way back up to pre-recession levels. In short, being an artist in Ireland has meant living precariously, frequently working for below minimum wage, and often working for free. Let's take a deep breath together and move in time to the fateful moment that was 2020. It's impossible for me to see this number without feeling a shudder down my spine. And yet, before it became that unforgettable year in history, for me it was one of great hope and excitement. 2020 was going to be my year. I had worked very hard for more than 20 years to build the momentum I was finally reaping. After decades of failures, successes, more failures, rejections, heartaches, near misses and almost- theres, I was staring down the barrel of a good year. No, a great year. Following a critically acclaimed, sold-out run in 2019, a play I'd written, This Beautiful Village, was going back into the Abbey Theatre for production on the main stage for one month. After that, there would be a national tour. I got a publishing deal, I signed with a new agent at a big agency in London, and This Beautiful Village won Best New Play at the Irish Theatre Awards . This glorious moment had been a long time coming for me. And then, in a heartbeat, it all disappeared … poof … into thin air. READ MORE At the time, people were at pains to assure me that my show would come back once restrictions were lifted, that all would be righted. None of these people worked in the arts or entertainment. They did not understand that in this business, when you lose your slot, it's gone. As the pandemic raged on, the Abbey changed leadership, and I was not part of their new agenda. This is how it goes in showbiz. I spent a long, long time grieving this loss. And while I was not alone – many of my peers had also lost their work – it was an intensely lonely and solitary grief. I was the only person in my family who lost everything overnight. It was also an ambiguous loss. I couldn't point to something tangible and feel its absence, because it didn't happened. It was a 'supposed to be', sliding doors moment in my life. How can you miss something you never actually had? I sank into a deep depression. I felt broken. And to top it all off, I was sick. The week of the very first shutdown, I had surgery and was diagnosed with endometriosis. In addition to grief and loss, I was in constant, severe pain. My livelihood was gone, along with my identity, my sense of self. And I got completely and utterly lost in it all. I spent two years battling with my grief, and fighting for healthcare to treat my illness. I wasn't doing well with either. I'd heard rumours that a Basic Income for the Arts scheme was coming down the line but I wasn't going to hold my breath. When an official announcement arrived, and applications opened, I put my name forward, knowing full well that my chances were slim. A lot of arts sector workers were in a bad way, and I was by no means the worst. I was able to rent a home near my daughter's school, and was able to put food on the table. Not everybody had it that good. When I received word I'd been selected, a light went on inside me. The money would be a huge boost, of course, but also, I felt seen. I felt valued. As a writer, as an artist, that's not something you feel very often. Artists expend so much energy fighting for their worth to be adequately compensated that it's very easy to lose your sense of self-worth and belief. These are not flowery words, or luxury feelings, they are fundamental to the health and wellbeing of every human being. When someone shows you that they believe in you, as the BIA did for me, it shifts you on your axis. In a society that devalues artists, yet consumes art every single day, a sliver of belief can make a seismic shift in the person who creates that art. It turns out that €325 a week can not only help with groceries and doctors' bills, it also makes you feel like you're worth something. That the creativity you contribute to the world is, in fact, meaningful. [ 'Life changing' income scheme for artists means more spend time on work and fewer suffer from depression Opens in new window ] That first BIA payment I received came at a very dark time in my life. It was a ray of light, a beacon of hope that maybe, maybe , I'd be able to keep writing. Qualified to do exactly zero else, the only path for me was forward. There was guilt, of course. Selection had been randomised but, as I've said, there had been 8,000 applications. Only 2,000 were selected. I carried a sense of shame, that there were others more deserving than me. And nobody, nobody , who was selected talked about it. It was an unspoken agreement. Don't ask, don't tell. That's how dire things have gotten for artists in Ireland. Every month, a payment would go straight into my bank account. In the three years I've been part of this scheme, I've never once taken that money for granted. In tough times, when doctors' bills skyrocketed, those payments took the edge off a sharp knife. They gave me breathing space to try to navigate writing while sick and in pain during a pandemic. Even as the dreaded restrictions began to lift, and we put distance between ourselves and the darkest days of the pandemic, that €325 continued to help with medical bills. It bought me time and space to process total career loss, chronic illness and allowed me to wedge the door open to keep writing, in whatever way I could. Every six months, there was a survey. It asked questions about my life demographics, things you would expect to answer: age, living situation, employment status, a lot of standard queries about where I was at. What I did not expect were the questions about my mental health and wellbeing. In a gentle, respectful way, it made me reflect on how I was really doing. There were the questions about care and household responsibilities. My answers to those blew my mind. It was galling to realise how much time I was spending on running a household and it was news to me to discover that with the hours I was putting in, I was, in fact, a stay-at-home mother. The purpose of the survey was to gather information, but what it did was wake me up to the domestic inequity in my household, and take a good hard look at how I was spending my time. 'How much time did you spend on leisure activities this month?' On at least three of the surveys, my answer was zero. Had it not been for this research element of the project, I'm not sure I would have ever realised this. Writing another zero next to a question about how much money I'd made from my specific art form (playwriting) forced me to have some very difficult conversations with myself. Most artists in Ireland cannot make a living from making art alone. They have to subsidise their income with jobs in other sectors, or if they're lucky, in an arts-related role. In 2024, an estimated 6.6 million tourists visited our island. They didn't all come for the Guinness. And they certainly didn't come for the weather. Our scenery is gorgeous, yes, even in the rain, but what really draws people to Ireland is our culture. Our music, our writers, our art, our theatre, our festivals, these are what make Ireland such a popular place to visit. And when they do, they spend money. Lots of it. So why are the folks that make that culture living on the breadline? The economics of culture are simple: if you build it, they will come. In their droves. They'll spend money in pubs, hotels, galleries, theatres, shops, landmarks and museums. They'll buy books and woolly hats and green hoodies and shillelaghs and Claddagh rings and records and brown bread. They'll splash the cash to immerse themselves in the full experience of the immense culture of Ireland. But culture doesn't build itself. It requires time, talent and dedication. And the people who make that culture can't do it if they can't make the rent, or they can't afford to take their sick kid to the doctor, or they can't afford a space or studio. The poetry that politicians love to quote to humanise themselves doesn't magic up out of nowhere. The TV shows you can't stop binge-watching don't make themselves. The books you read were not written by an AI bot. Someone, an artist, had to sit down at a desk, likely for years, and grind that sucker out. For a pittance. The music you love to listen to started in an artist's head and made its way out on to an instrument. That instrument costs money. The recording equipment and studio space cost more. Like it or not, art needs money, because the people who make it are human beings who need the same things as you: shelter, food and water, yes. But they also need to be valued enough to invest in. [ The Irish Times view on basic income for artists: keep it going Opens in new window ] The Basic Income for the Arts scheme was due to end in August but it has been extended until February 2026. Minister for Culture, Communications and Sport, Patrick O'Donovan TD, plans to bring proposals for a 'successor scheme' to Cabinet as part of Budget 2026. Economically, the return on a BIA scheme will pay huge dividends in the form of more art, which will grow the tourism industry which will grow the hospitality, service, and retail industries. As an investment, it's a no brainer. And those are pretty thin on the ground these days. Lisa Tierney-Keogh is a playwright and writer
