The greatest resource that any country can have is its people, and yet the biggest export Ireland ever produced were its sons and daughters.

It has been estimated that between 1949 and 1989 over 800,000 people were forced to leave Ireland. Something in the order of half of this outflow occurred during the 1950’s. The peak was reached in 1955 when 55,000 young people left Irish shores. In a census taken in 1956 the population of the country fell to 2.8 million the lowest ever recorded and led one author to question “Are we becoming the Vanishing Irish and would we survive as a race if something wasn’t done to stem the outflow”?

Those who stayed had to suffer continued hardships, isolation and social exclusion. The rural communities were decimated by the impact of emigration. Many of those who stayed during this decade did so in silence as they watched family members and friends’ leave. Now in a new millennium these people have passed on and their homes stand as a monument to a bygone age.



While visiting these unoccupied houses I felt like an intruder disturbing the spirits that still haunt every room. In some homes it looked as if the last activity was the waking of the dead, the closing of the door and the abandonment of the house. Deceased or faraway relatives simply left the house to the ravages of time. It was possible to date the last occupancy through observation of a calendar for example. Religion was the main force that kept rural societies together. The Catholic Church was dominant in people’s lives and they controlled all aspects of daily life. The influence of the church had a binding effect that brought society together and there power was also used to control Government policy. In 1944 the Archbishop of Dublin outlawed the use of internal sanitary tampons as he had received medical advice which said that they caused infertility and therefore may be used as a form of contraception which was against the ethos of the Church’s teachings.

While looking at the scenes about me I felt I was awakening ghosts from my childhood and there were times that the hair literally stood on the back of my neck, spurred by dusty damp newspaper articles or mouldy-framed images memories came flooding back.



Wallpaper took me back to a holiday home my parents owned forty years ago. An old valve radio reminded me of the thrill of selecting on the illuminated dial distant cities like – London, Luxembourg, Prague. I can still hear Radio Eireann playing

“If you feel like singing, do sing an Irish song”.

Trapped between traditional society and modernity, Cuba is a country caught in its own history. The common clichés of 1950 automobiles and crumbling architecture have all reinforced a stereotype of Cuba as a vestige of the cold war, where ghosts of the past still haunt the present. A lack of knowledge and understanding of the country’s historical narrative have added to an unbalanced view of Cuba as a tormented purgatory. This perspective ignores the legacies of colonial empire and hegemonic governance whose influence still pertain today.

The struggle for Cuban national identity is a complex and prolonged affair dating back to the 1492 when Cuba became under direct control of Spain. The countries strategic position in the Caribbean made it an ideal stopping off point in the transportation of wealth from the new world to Europe. Until the mid 20th century, the country at various times had been under the control of Spanish and British Empires as well as the United States. The countries history has resulted in the former slave colony becoming a multi-ethnic nation. Because of the diversity of those who came to the island, the different ethnic backgrounds have provided the country with a rich cultural influence of European, American and African traditions. Cuba’s national identity is a hybrid of all these influences and provided its people with its own sense of belonging.

The portraits from this series document people of Cuba in their home environment and capture scenes that are reflective of their character not normally seen. One becomes aware that these people still retain family values and a richness of life that would appear to be disappearing in the more affluent western societies. Families are tight knit groups as they share rooms or houses in close proximity. Rooms can be quite small and are in contrast on some occasions to the relatively more grandiose old colonial structures. Family units often consist of grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, teens and children. They support each other in such a way as to create a culture of emotional trust and security. This mutual cooperation and care became evident as they invited me into their homes and displayed a patience and ease as I went about my work. Despite the external condition of some the buildings, on the whole interiors are very well kept and spotlessly clean. Visiting various homes throughout the country you find that Cubans are very welcoming and you will be treated more like a long lost relative than a complete stranger. The generosity of the people is quite evident and they are willing to share what little they have with you with offers of coffee or something to eat. The strength of any country is in its people and despite over fifty years of sanctions as well the hardships experienced during the Special Period the Cuban people are resilient as well as having dignity and spirit.

The Cuban people are very proud and take great pride in their independence. A young lawyer when asked the question that everyone asks in the west, “what will happen when Fidel Castro dies”? Her reply was; “I hope we don’t turn into another Puerto Rico.”

The devastation of emigration has left its mark on Latvia. Following the collapse of the Soviet Union and the restoration of its independence in 1991, life has totally changed. Mass emigration of the young has totally changed the demographic of the country. The proportion of the population over 60 years is now at over 22 percent. For the elderly, it’s not the prospect of living alone that concerns them, but a fear of being forgotten. They become less visible and to the community it may appear that they have no contribution to offer. In modern society where everything is disposable the opinions of older people can sometimes be dismissed as old fashioned and irrelevant.

In some way many feel that they are strangers in their own land and don’t recognise or understand the new Latvia and its free market concepts.

What sometimes is forgotten is how valuable their stories and perspectives are in understanding a countries past. Leafing through their photo albums, the memories of their youth come flooding back as if it were yesterday. For some, they just closed their eyes and replayed past events as if they were rewinding a scene from a film, while others didn’t want to say anything as it seemed the weight of the past maybe too traumatic to recall. For several there is nostalgia for what they described as the Latvian golden age while many were critical of the government and its implementation of policies from Brussels.

The painful separation of family is a common thread that runs through Latvian history. Since independence the main discourse for Latvia has being about emigration, but during the Soviet occupation thousands were deported on cattle trains to Siberia as the Soviets attempted to crush any nationalist resistance.

One man said;

“The last time I saw my family was in 1941, when I got home they were all gone, I don’t know where they went and I didn’t even say goodbye. I was deported to Siberia and wasn’t allowed back until 1957. I’m now not going to say anymore as I don’t want to be seen as a traitor”.

Hearing stories like this it was as if the ghost of Josef Stalin still lingered and was reaching out from beyond the grave as a warning to those who spoke out of turn. In their mind there is still a fear of what things were like and they share an anxiety over present day growing geopolitical tensions that also remind them of the past.