|This is only a snapshot I took to remind me of Cunningham's work while I was writing, but is stunning and a piece I would love to own.|
It's strange how you can meet someone socially, spend time with them and their family and yet not suspect some of the most important parts of who they are . . .
It was like that with Niamh Cunningham at first. The wife of a fellow journalist, I first met her when we went on a group trip to the Great Wall and a ski resort not far from Beijing. I knew she was Irish, as is her husband (though she and their son have stronger brogues), learned she was an avid swimmer and liked her instantly. But we never had any in-depth conversations.
Then, a month or so back, one of my editors asked me if I could do a profile on her and her art - I hadn't even known she was an artist. I set up the interview, arrived at her home, and was blown away by her talent, her drive and her prolific and diverse body of work.
The resulting article is here . . .