University photographer Matt Cashore ’94 has traveled to Dublin taken thousands of photographs of the city and of Irish life that will soon be available in the Hesburgh Library for students’ use.
Two and a half years after Caitlin Myron showed up as a freshman in Professor Tara MacLeod’s introductory Irish language class to give the challenging tongue a “tryout,” she found herself standing inside the grand Dublin home of Michael D. Higgins with a set of books in her hand — a gift for Ireland’s new president — and a short message to deliver to him. In Irish.
First off, it’s not Gaelic. The name of the language is Irish.
Kelsey Falter and the hungry, obsessive, speeded-up, success-driven, all-out road to tech stardom. She’s enjoying the ride.
Seen and heard on the Notre Dame campus
Orlando, Florida, was a magical kingdom for Dennis Wolfe ’92. Not because of the nearby Disney World opening its gates just a year after his birth but because this was where music came into his life.
“This is literally the cultural baggage that the Irish family’s brought over with them,” explains Keough-Naughton director Christopher Fox.
When international pop star Shakira of “Hips Don’t Lie” fame needed a background track for a song on her album Oral Fixation 2, she turned to a classical choral ensemble called Seraphic Fire.
Deaths in the Notre Dame family.
Letters to the editor
I was a grownup — a forebear with descendants of my own — before I knew I wasn’t very Irish (if Irish at all).
Bagpipes? Yes. Traditional Irish ballad? Yes. Football anthem? Yes. Prayerful meditation? Yes. Rap? Yes.
Those musical styles are part of the Spirit of Notre Dame collection,
Creative work by Notre Dame people
While his peers were soaking up the California sunshine in the summer of 2009, Connor Toohill was glued to his computer. It wasn’t video games keeping the San Diego native indoors; Toohill was laying the foundations for his own student-run web publication, NextGenJournal.com.
A few years ago I gave notice on the L.A. apartment where I’d lived since 1992, disposed of or gave away most of my belongings, packed up my ’96 Celica convertible and took off for an open-ended sabbatical.
As campus revives from the lull of summer and pulses to the beat of student energy, I realize I am no longer en tempo with Notre Dame.
Last year my husband stood in our outdated kitchen, the one I was supposed to renovate six years ago when we bought the house, and tried once again to make toast. As he once again stormed down the stairs to the fuse box, muttering grown-up words, the children and I once again scurried around the house turning off all the lights. I realized in one of those “aha moments” that I couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to face my fears. We needed a new kitchen.
Deaths of Notre Dame alumni
We have no gorgeous mountain views at Notre Dame, but when the Notre Dame Magazine staff meets at the Grace Hall café for coffee on a Thursday morn, we do get an occasional glimpse of unusual student activity.