From Floozie in the Jacuzzi to Chime in the Slime – the Portal-oo joins elite list
Repairs to US link-up evokes memories of monuments on Dublin’s main street
It’s supposed to be our version of the Champs-Elysees. Steeped in history and the events that founded the nation, O’Connell Street is Ireland’s main street. And yet it has struggled to live up to its exalted reputation.
The trouble with its latest art installation follows a long line of calamities with monuments on the street. The auld Dublin wit is the only winner.
The Portal-oo
The shutdown of the portal – or “The Portal-oo” as it’s been called – is just the latest in a series of blunders to befall the street as the city’s authorities attempt to make it a more attractive place.
Changes had to be implemented at the Dublin-New York portal following a number of incidents from the Irish side.
Dublin City Council has indicated the two-way webcam will undergo a number of “technical changes” after New York media reported inappropriate behaviour from some onlookers in Dublin.
The Floozie in the Jacuzzi
Way back in 1988, Dublin was celebrating its millennium – or “De Aluminium”, as it was dubbed at the time. There was a special 50p coin and Dublin ’88 milk bottles, as well as antique lampposts erected around the city in honour of the city’s 1,000th birthday. A statue was also erected on O’Connell Street to commemorate the occasion.
Anna Livia Plurabelle was an anthropomorphic representation of the River Liffey. She was based on a character of the same name, who features in James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake.
The sculpture by the renowned artist Éamonn O’Doherty was commissioned by millionaire Michael Smurfit in 1988 to mark Dublin’s big anniversary.
And she soon became known as the “Floozie in the Jacuzzi”, or even less politely as the “Hewer in the Sewer”. The foundation frequently had to be cleaned
out and at weekends pranksters would throw in washing-up liquid to make it froth up. Anna Livia Plurabelle stayed on O’Connell Street until 2001, when she was taken away as the street was being rejuvenated.
After a decade in storage, she was moved down the river to Croppies’ Acre Memorial Park near Collins Barracks. You can see her when you’re coming into the city centre from Heuston Station on the “Daniel Day” (Luas).
The Chime in the Slime
Heading towards the actual millennium in 2000 – again, “De Aluminium” in Dublin slang – the country was looking for ways to commemorate the event.
The National Lottery decided to put a countdown clock in the Liffey at O’Connell Bridge. The digital seven-digit display was counting down the number of seconds to 2000. For added effect, it was submerged under the water when it was turned on in March 1996.
Similar to “The Portal-oo”, there were technical problems – mainly relating to the clock being covered in brown mud and green algae from the river.
The numbers became obscured, hence the nickname the “Chime in the Slime”. Then somebody realised the countdown wasn’t quite right either.
The clock cost somewhere in the region of a quarter-of-a-million quid (in old money) to build and another sixty grand to install, repair and eventually remove. It was permanently removed in December 1996.
The legacy of the Chime was an indent on the bridge for a sign relating to the clock. This spot now contains a plaque to Fr Pat Noise, who “died in mysterious circumstances when his carriage plunged into the River Liffey on August 10, 1919”.
Except he didn’t because he was a fictitious character and the plaque was a prank. It wasn’t noticed for two years. After Dublin City Council removed it, another version appeared and has stayed.
The Stiletto in the Ghetto
Nelson’s Pillar used to stand in the middle of O’Connell Street at the junction with Henry Street and North Earl Street. But the statue commemorating Admiral Horatio Nelson’s victory at the Battle of Trafalgar was blown up by republicans in 1966.
The army then came along to remove the rest of the enormous structure, with a controlled explosion that reputedly did far more damage to the street than the original bomb.
In a curious side plot, the head of Nelson’s statue was abducted from a council depot by students at the National College of Art and Design, who used it for fundraising to clear debts.
The Pillar, as it was colloquially known, stood 40 metres high and had a viewing platform at the top. Over the following decades there was a debate about what to replace the famous landmark with.
Along came the Spire of Dublin in 2003, officially titled the Monument of Light. The stainless steel pin is more than 120 metres high and the scratchy pattern at the bottom represents a sample of rock formation taken from the ground where the spire stands.
Needless to say, nicknames followed, several of which cannot be mentioned in polite company, but the “Stiletto in the Ghetto” was among those that stuck.