Mistéir na Ríleanna Glugair – The Outtake Mystery

Is iomaí cor sa saol, go mór mhór i saol an taighde. Chuir scéalta nua suimiúla spreagúla moill ar an mblagphosta seo agus, nuair a thosnaíos á scríobh, tháinig cor eile sa scéilín atá á roinnt agam libh anois.

Gheall mé mí Eanáir seo caite go mbeadh tuairisc eile agam daoibh ar Man of Aran. Thart ar 1972, mealladh an Meiriceánach George C. Stoney (1916-2012) go hÁrainn don gcéad uair. Theastaigh uaidh scéal neamhghnách a shinsir ansiúd (a mhínigh Tim Robinson sa leabhar Stones of Aran: Labyrinth, lgh.141-2) a fhiosrú. Ach, mar scannánóir cáiliúil faisnéise, mheall Man of Aran é freisin. I 1979, d’eisigh sé a scannán féin faoi dhéanamh scannán Uí Fhlaithearta, How the Myth Was Made. Sa scannán sin, feictear Stoney in éindí le Harry Watt – Sasanach a d’oibrigh mar chúntóir léiriúcháin ar Man of Aran – ag breathnú tríd an ábhar a bhí fágtha i dteachín an Man of Aran i gCill Mhuirbhigh ag Robert Flaherty i ndeireadh 1933. Féach anseo grianghraf de chriú fiosrach Stoney ag féachaint ar an sean-trealamh scannánaíochta – i bhfómhar 1976, is dóigh liom.

Ó chlé: Harry Watt, James Brown, agus Paul Barnes, c.1976. George C. Stoney a ghlac. Le caoinchead Documentary Educational Resources www.der.org

Sa teach an lá sin, d’aimsigh Stoney agus Watt ríleanna glugair de chuid Man of Aran. Roinn Stoney féin liom an scéal sular bhásaigh sé: seoladh iomlán an ábhair scannáin a frítheadh an uair úd go Stiúideó Ardmore i mBré, Co. Chill Mhantáin, ach, nuair a thug Stoney cuairt ar an ionad sin mí ina dhiaidh sin, dúradh leis gur caitheadh amach é trí thimpist – rud a chur díomá an domhain air, dar ndóigh.

Bronnann an scéilín seo comhthéacs úr ar ghrianghraf eile atá anois i gcartlann Getty Images, grianghraf a léiríonn go ndearna Flaherty iarracht bhreise an íomhá d’Árainn a bhí cruthaithe aige a smachtú: nuair a thug sé a chuairt dheireanach ar an oileán i Meán Fómhair 1949, dhóigh sé roinnt de na ríleanna glugair. Cérbh iad na radharcanna a ndearna sé iarracht a ghlanadh ó chuimhne na ndaoine? Agus cérbh iad na radharcanna nár mhiste leis go ndéanfaí a mheas mar chuid dá oidhreacht ealaíne?

Ach féach cor eile sa scéal. I gcaint dar teideal “Must a Filmmaker Always Leave His Mark?” a thug Stoney uaidh i mBealtaine 1978 san Astráil, dúirt sé:

Some 6,000 feet of outtakes were discovered in Dublin a few years ago by Alf MacLochlainn of Ireland’s National Library. These show Flaherty’s Aran characters going through all the necessary foolishness of making old-style films.

Is mó seans gur inis MacLochlainn féin do Stoney cad a bhí sna míreanna glugair seo. Ach ní fios go fóill céard a d’éirigh don ábhar sin ná cén fáth gur mhair sé tamall i mBaile Átha Cliath. Tá bailiúcháin ábharthacha sa Leabharlann Náisiúnta nach bhfuil cláraithe go hiomlán go fóill. Mar sin, ní féidir a bheith cinnte más ann atá siad anois nó nach ea. Leanfaidh an bhleachtaireacht!

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The twists and turns of the researching life have delayed this post but have also yielded some new, intriguing tales that I hope to share with you in due course. For now, here is a story I promised you last January, another chapter in the saga of Man of Aran.

Around 1972, the American film-maker George C. Stoney (1916-2012) visited Aran for the first time. He wanted to investigate the intriguing history of his ancestors there (outlined by Tim Robinson in Stones of Aran: Labyrinth, pp.141-2) but he was also lured by the film Man of Aran. In 1979, he released his own documentary on the making of Flaherty’s film, entitled How the Myth Was Made. In that film, we see Stoney and Harry Watt – an Englishman who worked as production assistant on Man of Aran – discovering materials that Flaherty had left behind in the Man of Aran cottage in Cill Mhuirbhigh in late 1933. This photograph shows Stoney’s inquisitive crew examining the old film equipment – in the autumn of 1976, I believe.

In the cottage that day, Stoney and Watt found outtake reels from Man of Aran. What happened next Stoney himself relayed to me before he died: the entirety of the film material they found was shipped to Ardmore Studios in Bray, Co. Wicklow, but, when he visited the studios a month later, he was told it had been accidentally disposed of – to his great dismay, naturally.

Stoney’s story gives new meaning to another photograph, which survives in the archives of Getty Images, a photograph showing Flaherty attempting once again to marshal his image of Aran: on his final visit to Aran in September 1949, he burned some of the outtake reels. So, what scenes did he try to wipe from local memory? And what scenes did he deem fit for inclusion in his artistic legacy?

There is yet another twist in the tale. In a lecture entitled “Must a Filmmaker Always Leave His Mark?” delivered in May 1978 in Canberra, Australia, Stoney said:

Some 6,000 feet of outtakes were discovered in Dublin a few years ago by Alf MacLochlainn of Ireland’s National Library. These show Flaherty’s Aran characters going through all the necessary foolishness of making old-style films.

It is more likely that MacLochlainn himself told Stoney what was in those outtake reels. However, it is, as yet, unknown what happened to that material or why it survived for a time in Dublin. There are some as yet unlisted materials in the National Library of Ireland that may hold the answers but, for the moment, the mystery remains – and the detective work continues!