19 July
ARCHIVE
Clare Sheridan
(1885-1970)
Letter, 1948
h 22.8, w 17.8
cm
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Initially she writes very little in her letters about her
sculptures
but an exhibition in Dublin changes this quite dramatically. The
exhibition opening makes her write to her friend in a sleepless
night. She regrets very much not being younger and having more of
her life left to work and ends with trying to answer the crucial
question -what life is all about. Will I sell? Will I get orders?
I
feel that my future is at stake. ...I am now really very much at
home with my chisels. At first it seemed awfully hard & I was
afraid
of the stone. Now I feel I am its master and it is a great
thrill.
If only I were 30 years younger that is the real tragedy- The
discovery had come too late. There is so little future left for
me.
If what I am doing now I had been doing at 30 (if not at 20) I
could
be looking forward to a steady crescendo of achievement no waning
strength---... ...But although my soul will go on existing beyond
my
physical life span, how do I stand as regards sculpture? Can't
carry
that on-? There is no answer. Will I bring it back next time? I
suppose so, if I want to. But will I want to? Its no joke being a
sculptor. It conflicts with ones freedom of movement!! It is an
anchorage which irks the restless- But I shall be something next
time- may be an actress or a singer or a dancer- but one of these
compares with sculpture which, as Dick [her son] once told me, is
the highest of all the arts. It is now 4.30. pm. And I ramble on,
as
wide awake as in the day. ... ...Yes it is written in my Karma
that,
work as hard and as brilliantly and as inspired as I may.--I
shall
have a minimum of recognition and yet I know of no other
sculptor,
even male, who works as hard as I do- & I have done Lovely
things.
...I call it the Archangel Michael- I can't tell you how lovely
he
is. side effect of the exhibition is that she has a little extra
money and she is persuaded to spend it on going to Greece. An
episode in Algiers is a particularly happy one. She works closely
together with a friend's brother on an ivory tusk. She still owns
a
house in Algiers which she needs to sell. At the end of the
series
of letters she cannot wait to go back to Algiers and does not
understand why she ever wanted to move to Galway. By this time CS
is
in her seventies.