He sits in a corner of my memory. That’s how Patrick Kavanagh, a great Irish poet, described Jerome Connor, the sculptor whose life we’re about to explore. This plaque right here, nestled into the wall near the top of Infirmary Road, commemorates a man whose story encompasses a lifetime of artistic achievement and the ultimate tragic loss.
Jerome Connor was born in 1874 in County Kerry, Ireland. He had a talent for sculpting, but never received any formal training. He started carving figures into rocks as a child, later working as a stone-cutter, machinist, and sign-painter. He moved to the United States and became a well-respected sculptor, receiving commissions for civic memorials in Washington, D.C., New York City, San Francisco, and even his native Ireland. He was known for his realistic and emotional sculptures, and often used the human figure to express values and ideals.
But it was not all smooth sailing for the artist. He encountered numerous difficulties in Ireland, including delays, underfunding, and a lack of encouragement. In the 1930s, he even faced accusations of paganism for a sculpture he created, leading to financial ruin and the closure of his studio.
You can read about Jerome Connor’s extraordinary life in the inscription on this plaque. “He sits in a corner of my memory” is a line from an obituary poem that Kavanagh wrote for his friend. It eloquently captures the essence of a man who, despite facing hardship and adversity, left a lasting legacy, one that still resonates in the world today.
Take a moment to admire the words on the plaque. If you’re here, in front of Jerome Connor Place, take the time to wander around and appreciate the hidden history of the city, one piece at a time.