Discover the MythCloud

Bluiríní Béaloidis is a podcast from the National Folklore Collection at University College Dublin. It explores the rich landscape of Irish and European folk traditions.

The podcast represents a significant modern adaptation of traditional folklore transmission, translating oral traditions into digital media while maintaining their essential function as repositories of cultural wisdom, whilst exploring how mythological thinking continues to evolve through new forms of dissemination while remaining connected to its traditional roots.

Host Jonny Dillon's invitation to journey through the "folklore furrow" employs an agricultural metaphor to frame the exploration of cultural inheritance—a fitting approach for traditions deeply connected to land, seasons, and community. This framing positions folklore not as antiquarian curiosity but as civic cultivation—stories and practices that, like crops, require proper tending to maintain their vitality and relevance across generations.

By examining both Irish and broader European folk traditions, the podcast contextualises local narratives within larger patterns of human meaning-making. This comparative approach reveals how specific cultural expressions often reflect universal human concerns, demonstrating folklore's dual function of reinforcing cultural particularity while addressing shared human experiences. The podcast's exploration of diverse subjects and themes illustrates how traditional narratives provided comprehensive frameworks for understanding every aspect of human experience.

Most significantly, the podcast articulates how understanding traditional wisdom can inform contemporary life and guide future development. This forward-looking perspective challenges simplistic notions of folklore as merely preserving the past, instead positioning traditional knowledge as a valuable resource for navigating present challenges. By making these traditions accessible through modern digital platforms, Blúiríní Béaloidis exemplifies how mythological thinking adapts to new contexts while maintaining its essential function of creating meaning and connection.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), one of Belgium's most significant cultural institutions, houses a remarkable pencil sketch titled Mercury and Argus by Jean Antoine Verschaeren, depicting a pivotal scene from classical mythology.

This artwork captures the dramatic moment from Ovid's Metamorphoses when Mercury (Hermes in Greek mythology), sent by Jupiter (Zeus), uses his cunning to lull the hundred-eyed giant Argus to sleep with an enchanted flute before slaying him. In the original myth, Argus had been assigned by Juno (Hera) to guard the nymph Io, whom Jupiter had transformed into a heifer to conceal his infidelity.

Verschaeren's rendering demonstrates how mythological narratives have continually inspired visual artists across centuries, providing a rich vocabulary of symbolic scenes that carry complex meanings about power, deception, and divine intervention. The sketch exemplifies the artist's mastery of light, shadow, and emotional expression within the constraints of the medium.

This piece belongs to the museum's extensive collection of works that interpret classical mythology, revealing how these ancient narratives remained culturally relevant long after the decline of the civilisations that created them. Through such artistic interpretations, mythological stories continue to evolve, acquiring new layers of meaning while preserving their essential narrative structure.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), one of Belgium's premier cultural institutions dating back to 1810, houses the bronze sculpture Orpheus, Inventory No. 3876, by the renowned modernist sculptor Ossip Zadkine (1890-1967).

This powerful work interprets the mythical Greek musician and poet Orpheus, whose legendary ability to charm all living things with his music made him one of the most enduring figures in Western mythological tradition. Orpheus's journey to the underworld in an attempt to rescue his beloved Eurydice represents one of mythology's most poignant explorations of love, loss, and the limits of human will against fate.

Zadkine, a Russian-born artist who spent most of his career in France, was known for combining cubist abstraction with more traditional figurative elements. His interpretation of Orpheus likely reflects this modernist approach, using dynamic, expressive forms to convey the emotional intensity of the mythological figure. The sculpture would have been created during a period when artists were reinterpreting classical themes through modern aesthetic sensibilities, finding new relevance in ancient narratives.

The choice of bronze as medium provides both permanence and expressive potential, allowing Zadkine to capture the lyrical and tragic nature of Orpheus's story through the plasticity of form. The sculpture exemplifies how mythological subjects continued to inspire artistic innovation throughout the 20th century, providing rich symbolic material for exploring universal human experiences.

This work stands as a testament to mythology's enduring presence in modern artistic expression, demonstrating how ancient narratives provide frameworks for exploring timeless themes of human existence.

Mythes Op. 30, composed by Karol Szymanowski in 1915, stands as one of his most significant works and a landmark of musical impressionism. Created during a pivotal period in European history amid World War I, this three-part suite for violin and piano represents a distinctive approach to musical storytelling that draws on mythological themes.

The composition blends evocative melodies with atmospheric textures, capturing the mystical and otherworldly essence of mythology through sound. Mythes reflects Szymanowski's engagement with the symbolic and poetic qualities of music, drawing inspiration from both European classical traditions and Eastern influences, which increasingly fascinated him during this period of artistic development.

The work's connection to mythology extends beyond its title to its sonic character, with each piece evoking a different mythological or fantastical scene. The composer's innovative exploration of texture and tone creates an evocative soundscape where violin and piano intertwine to convey emotion and narrative without relying on conventional musical storytelling.

This approach to composition demonstrates how mythology can transcend textual expression to manifest in purely musical terms. Szymanowski's work exemplifies how abstract art forms can capture the essence of mythological thinking—the evocation of wonder, the blurring of boundaries between the natural and supernatural, and the expression of profound emotional states.

Mythes serves as a profound example of how music, like mythology itself, can transcend language barriers, offering a powerful exploration of human experience through its expressive, abstract forms.

Talking History offers a distinctive exploration of pivotal political, social and cultural events that have shaped our world, examining the complex figures central to these historical moments. Hosted by Dr Patrick Geoghegan of Trinity College Dublin, this programme interrogates the multifaceted, often contested dimensions of our collective past, illuminating what these historical narratives reveal about contemporary society.

Dracula
‍Bram Stoker's Dracula represents a quintessential example of how literary works synthesise diverse mythological elements to create new cultural narratives with remarkable staying power. This Gothic masterpiece draws from multiple sources—historical, folkloric, and contemporary social anxieties—to create a composite figure whose symbolic resonance transcends its Victorian origins.

The layered influences behind Dracula reveal how modern mythmaking often operates through bricolage, combining elements from diverse traditions into coherent new narratives. Stoker's vampire amalgamates Eastern European folklore, the historical figure of Vlad the Impaler, and potential echoes of Irish cultural trauma from the Great Famine. This synthesis demonstrates how effective modern myths often function as cultural crossroads where multiple traditions converge and transform one another.

Particularly significant is the novel's context within British colonial dynamics. Stoker, an Irishman writing under British rule, created a narrative where the "civilised" West confronts a threatening Eastern Other—a structure that simultaneously reinforced and subtly subverted colonial perspectives. This ambiguity has contributed to the story's enduring relevance, allowing it to be continuously reinterpreted through changing cultural lenses.

The novel's afterlife through adaptations like F.W. Murnau's Nosferatu further demonstrates how powerful mythological narratives transcend their original medium, evolving through continuous reinterpretation. The copyright battle that paradoxically enhanced Dracula's cultural status exemplifies the unpredictable processes through which certain cultural narratives achieve mythological prominence while others fade into obscurity. Stoker's creation thus offers a case study in how modern literary works can attain mythological status, becoming flexible frameworks for exploring evolving cultural anxieties while maintaining recognisable core elements across diverse adaptations.

This woodcut of the "Drunken Silenus" from around 1630, designed by Peter Paul Rubens and engraved by Christoffel Jegher, exemplifies how Baroque artists continued to find powerful expressive possibilities in classical mythological subjects. Depicting Silenus—the Greek god of wine and companion to Dionysus/Bacchus—in a state of intoxication surrounded by satyrs and nymphs, the print demonstrates how mythological narratives provided frameworks for exploring aspects of human experience that might otherwise be difficult to address directly.

The collaborative nature of this work—with Rubens providing the design and Jegher executing the engraving—exemplifies how printmaking facilitated broader circulation of mythological imagery, allowing compositions originally accessible only to elite audiences to reach wider publics. This democratisation of mythological imagery played an important role in maintaining the cultural relevance of classical references even as European society underwent profound religious and social transformations.

Silenus himself represents a complex mythological figure whose drunkenness was associated not just with physical intoxication but with philosophical insight and prophetic wisdom. This ambiguity made him a particularly suitable subject for exploring tensions between physical indulgence and spiritual/intellectual transcendence that preoccupied Baroque culture. Rubens' characteristic style, with its emphasis on dynamic, sensual figures, was particularly well-suited to capturing this paradoxical aspect of Silenus' nature.

The print's connection to related works in Munich and the Louvre's Cabinet des Dessins demonstrates how mythological subjects circulated across media and national boundaries, creating complex networks of visual reference that maintained the cultural currency of classical themes throughout Europe. The preservation of this print in the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp reflects ongoing cultural interest in understanding how mythological frameworks evolved through artistic reinterpretation, maintaining relevance across changing historical contexts through their flexible symbolic language.

Luigi Serafini's Codex Seraphinianus (1981) represents one of the most ambitious examples of invented mythology in modern times. This illustrated encyclopedia of an imaginary world, written in an invented language and filled with surreal illustrations of bizarre flora, fauna, and technologies, demonstrates the persistent human drive to create comprehensive symbolic systems even in an age dominated by scientific rationalism.

The Codex's resemblance to real historical mysteries like the Voynich manuscript positions it within a tradition of boundary-crossing texts that challenge conventional categorisations. By creating a work that mimics scientific documentation while depicting impossible creatures and phenomena, Serafini blurs the distinction between factual recording and imaginative creation—calling attention to how all systems of knowledge involve elements of both.

Particularly significant is Serafini's revelation that the text is intentionally asemic—resembling writing but carrying no specific meaning. This approach creates an experience similar to what children feel when confronted with texts they cannot yet comprehend, positioning readers in a state of productive confusion that stimulates imaginative engagement. The work thus becomes a meditation on the relationship between knowledge, imagination, and the limitations of human understanding.

The Codex's structure—covering natural phenomena, human activities, and abstract concepts—mirrors traditional encyclopedias while subverting their claim to comprehensive factual authority. By creating detailed illustrations of bleeding fruits, chair-plants, and humans with tools grafted onto their bodies, Serafini invites viewers to question the boundaries we draw between natural and artificial, possible and impossible. The work's enduring appeal demonstrates the continued human fascination with comprehensive mythological systems, even in an age where scientific explanation has largely displaced traditional mythology as the dominant explanatory framework.

Flemish theatre in Belgium has recently faced growing criticism for being "too white," with concerns spanning from its organisational structure to casting choices and repertoire selection. This critique reflects broader questions about cultural representation and the evolution of theatrical traditions in increasingly diverse societies.

In response, theatre critic Erwin Jans advocates for the exploration of non-Western theatrical works, particularly highlighting Arabic adaptations of the Greek tragedy Oedipus. By examining these adaptations, Jans situates them within broader cultural and political contexts, challenging the Eurocentric readings that have dominated Western theatre.

This approach represents a significant intervention in how mythological narratives are understood and performed. While the Oedipus myth originated in Greek culture, its themes of fate, identity, and self-knowledge resonate across cultural boundaries. Arabic adaptations often reinterpret these universal elements through specific cultural lenses, adding new dimensions to the story while maintaining its fundamental dramatic power.

By advocating for engagement with these adaptations, Jans encourages a more inclusive and multifaceted interpretation of classical works. This perspective recognises that mythological narratives are not static cultural artefacts but living traditions that gain vitality through cross-cultural dialogue and reinterpretation.

The discussion around diversifying Flemish theatre through engagement with non-Western adaptations of classical myths demonstrates how traditional narratives can serve as bridges between cultures, fostering a richer dialogue between diverse cultural expressions while questioning established canonical interpretations.

Laima, deriving her name from the Lithuanian word laimė meaning "happiness" or "luck," is a central figure in Baltic mythology, revered as the goddess of fate and fortune.

Predominantly worshipped in Latvia and Lithuania, she plays a crucial role in the life cycle of individuals, from birth to death, marriage, and even the fate of crops and animals. Laima's influence permeates daily life, particularly in matters of fortune, well-being, and success.

Closely associated with the sacred linden tree, Laima often appears alongside Dievs, the sky god, and Saule, the sun goddess, forming a divine trio governing human destiny. Her presence is particularly significant during childbirth, when she pronounces each infant's destiny. She also arranges marriages, oversees weddings, and protects pregnant women, ensuring life's continuity and societal harmony.

In Latvian mythology, Laima sometimes forms part of a trinity of fate deities with her sisters Kārta and Dēkla. While all three have similar functions, Laima governs luck and childbirth, Dēkla oversees children, and Kārta influences adult life.

Her role extends to the natural world, influencing field fertility and animal well-being, particularly horses. This multifaceted role offers insight into Baltic cultural values, emphasising the interconnectedness of fate, nature, and human existence.

William Elliot Griffis's collection Belgian Fairy Tales represents a significant contribution to the preservation and transmission of European folkloric traditions at a time when rapid industrialisation threatened traditional oral cultures. As part of Griffis's broader project documenting global folklore—including Dutch, Japanese, and Korean tales—this work demonstrates the universal human tendency to create explanatory narratives while highlighting the distinctive cultural elements that make Belgian traditions unique.

Specifically aimed at young readers, this collection exemplifies how traditional folkloric material was adapted and recontextualised for modern audiences in the early 20th century. The deliberate framing of these tales for children reflects a broader cultural shift in which folklore—once an integral part of communal life for people of all ages—became increasingly categorised as children's literature. This transformation fundamentally altered how such narratives functioned in society, changing them from multivalent cultural resources into primarily pedagogical or entertainment tools.

The rich illustrations featured throughout the volume serve not merely as decorative elements but as essential components of the storytelling experience, creating visual entry points into the narrative world. This integration of text and image creates a multisensory experience that, while different from traditional oral storytelling, offers its own form of immersive engagement with cultural mythology.

Griffis's work as a collector and adapter of global folklore positioned him within a broader international movement to document and preserve traditional narratives during a period of rapid social change. This comparative approach to mythology anticipated modern understanding of how similar narrative patterns emerge across cultures while manifesting in culturally specific forms. His collection thus stands as both a cultural artifact of early 20th century approaches to folklore and a valuable preservation of traditional Belgian narrative traditions.

The Syrenka, or Mermaid of Warsaw, stands as one of Poland's most enduring and recognisable mythological symbols, serving as the official emblem of Poland's capital city since at least the 14th century. Featured prominently on Warsaw's coat of arms and commemorated in statues, murals, and other public artworks throughout the city, this half-woman, half-fish figure embodies Warsaw's identity, resilience, and historical experience.

According to various legends that developed over centuries, the mermaid originally swam from the Baltic Sea into the Vistula River, where she chose to remain, enchanted by the beauty of the landscape and the river's course. Different versions of the tale describe how she was initially captured by a merchant but freed by local fishermen, after which she promised to guard the city and its people—explaining her traditional depiction with sword and shield, ready to defend Warsaw from threats.

The Syrenka's symbolic significance has evolved over time, particularly in the aftermath of World War II, when approximately 85% of Warsaw was systematically destroyed by Nazi forces. During the city's post-war reconstruction, the mermaid became a powerful symbol of Warsaw's indomitable spirit and capacity for renewal, its continuing presence representing historical continuity despite catastrophic destruction.

Today, the most famous physical representation of the Syrenka stands in Warsaw's Old Town Square, a bronze statue created by sculptor Konstanty Hegel in 1855. However, the symbol appears in countless variations throughout the city, from official municipal buildings to street art, consumer products, and corporate logos, demonstrating its flexible adaptability to different contexts while maintaining its essential character.

The enduring presence of the Warsaw Mermaid in the city's visual identity exemplifies how mythological figures can become integral to civic self-understanding, evolving over centuries while providing a sense of continuity and distinctiveness in the face of historical challenges.

The folk song "Tai Gražiai Paukšteliai Čilba" ("So Beautifully the Little Birds Chirp") represents a significant element of Lithuania's rich oral tradition, documented by the renowned Lithuanian scholar Jonas Basanavičius (1851-1927) during his extensive fieldwork in the late 19th century. Sung by villagers from Dziegcioriai village, this piece exemplifies the deep connection between Lithuanian folk culture and the natural world.

Basanavičius, often referred to as the "Patriarch of the Nation," was a physician, folklorist, and key figure in the Lithuanian National Revival movement. His systematic collection of folk songs, tales, and traditions played a crucial role in preserving Lithuanian cultural heritage during a period when Lithuanian national identity was threatened under Tsarist Russian rule.

This particular song likely belongs to a category of Lithuanian folk songs known as dainos, which often feature nature imagery as a means of expressing human emotions and experiences. The reference to birdsong would typically serve as a metaphorical device, possibly representing themes such as joy, freedom, or the arrival of spring and renewal.

Traditional Lithuanian folk songs frequently employ such natural imagery to create connections between human experience and the rhythms and patterns observed in the surrounding environment. Birds, in particular, often feature prominently in Baltic folklore and mythology, sometimes serving as messengers between worlds or symbols of the human soul.

The preservation of this song by the Lithuanian Folklore Archive at the Institute of Lithuanian Literature and Folklore ensures that this cultural expression remains accessible for study, performance, and appreciation, maintaining a living connection to traditional ways of understanding and representing the relationship between humans and the natural world.

This Lithuanian sakmė about two mothers and their contrasting encounters with hags exemplifies how traditional narratives articulated moral principles through supernatural frameworks. The tale's structure—showing parallel situations with dramatically different outcomes based on intention—creates powerful didactic framework that reinforces social values while acknowledging the mysterious forces believed to shape human experience.

The contrasting fates of the two children—one found carefully swaddled in silk, the other beheaded—establishes clear moral distinction between genuine accident and deliberate negligence. The hags' different lullabies about the "forgotten one" versus the "purposely forgotten one" demonstrate sophisticated moral reasoning that distinguishes between similar actions based on underlying intention. This nuance reflects how traditional moral frameworks often recognised the importance of internal motivation rather than merely external action.

The supernatural beings in this tale function simultaneously as moral arbiters and representations of cosmic justice. Their ability to discern the mothers' true intentions demonstrates belief in forces beyond human perception that nonetheless respond to human moral quality. This integration of supernatural agency with moral consequence creates powerful framework for reinforcing social values by suggesting that unseen forces monitor and respond to human behaviour.

Compiled from Norbertas Vėlius's collection of Lithuanian etiological legends, this tale exemplifies how traditional narratives addressed complex ethical questions through accessible story formats. By portraying extreme consequences for calculated deception, the narrative reinforces community values of genuine care and responsibility while warning against manipulation of social systems. The tale's preservation transforms what was once living oral tradition into documented cultural heritage, changing its function while ensuring its survival beyond the communities that originally created it.

The iconography surrounding the 1981 hunger strikes in Northern Ireland demonstrates the powerful role of visual symbolism in political resistance movements. Emerging from the "Blanket Protest" that began in 1976 at the H-Blocks of the Maze Prison (Long Kesh), this visual language created enduring symbols that transcended their immediate context to shape broader narratives of political struggle.

The Blanket Protest itself began when prisoners refused to wear standard prison uniforms, seeing this as acceptance of criminal rather than political status. Instead, they wrapped themselves in blankets, creating a striking visual metaphor of dignified resistance against state categorisation. This image—men clothed only in blankets within stark cell environments—communicated their determination to maintain political identity despite physical deprivation and institutional pressure.

As the protest escalated into the hunger strikes of 1981, the visual representation of the strikers themselves became increasingly powerful. Photographs of the ten men who died, particularly Bobby Sands, underwent a transformation from documentary images to iconic symbols. Their gaunt faces, captured before imprisonment and then circulated alongside their political writings, created a narrative of sacrifice and principle that resonated well beyond Ireland, prompting international protests from New York to Tehran.

The use of simplified visual elements—blankets, prison cells, and portraits of the hunger strikers—alongside slogans like "Give Us Our Rights" created an instantly recognisable visual language that communicated complex political demands through accessible imagery. These symbols transcended literacy and language barriers, allowing the republican cause to build international solidarity.

Decades later, this iconography continues to shape republican identity, demonstrating how visual elements can become repositories of collective memory that transmit historical experiences to new generations, maintaining continuity in political movements through shared visual references.

Bluiríní Béaloidis is a podcast from the National Folklore Collection at University College Dublin. It explores the rich landscape of Irish and European folk traditions. Each episode journeys through diverse cultural narratives, revealing how understanding our traditional heritage can illuminate our present and guide our future. By uncovering the stories, beliefs, and practices embedded in folklore, the podcast invites listeners to discover the depth and complexity of our shared cultural inheritance.

Salmon
For centuries, Irish communities have relied on the bounty of seas, rivers, and lakes for both physical sustenance and economic survival.

This episode of Blúiríní Béaloidis sees Jonny Dillon and Claire Doohan explore one of Ireland's most celebrated aquatic creatures: the noble salmon. Revered in both practical and symbolic terms, the salmon—known as 'the silvery fellow', 'the king', and 'the plum of the sea'—has inspired a wealth of lore, customs, and beliefs.

Distinct from other aquatic creatures, the salmon's ability to traverse both freshwater rivers and saltwater seas places it in a unique position in Irish tradition. Dillon and Doohan examine tales of daring poachers, dangerous plants, superstitious fishermen, and naming taboos, uncovering fascinating 15th-century riddles that persisted into 20th-century oral tradition.

From the mythic Salmon of Life (Bradán na Beatha) to the renowned Salmon of Knowledge, the episode explores how these tales intersect with 10th-century Irish-Norse relations and broader Indo-European narrative traditions, revealing how mythological creatures often serve as vessels for cultural wisdom and knowledge transmission across generations.

Seven Ages: The Story of the Irish Stateis a landmark documentary series produced in 2000 by Araby Productions for RTÉ and BBC Northern Ireland. Directed by Seán Ó Mórdha, this influential seven-part series chronicles Ireland's evolution since its founding in 1921 through key political, social, and cultural moments in history.

The series offers a comprehensive exploration of how Ireland, as a new nation-state, evolved a collective identity over its first seven decades. The shared national narrative, initially framed by founding leaders, evolved through a dynamic interplay of internal and external socio-economic-cultural forces. It reveals the complex process through which societies construct and sustain their sense of collective self

Episode 3 explores how Ireland's neutrality during World War II represents a fascinating case study in how nations craft narratives of exceptionalism during global crisis. The mythology of resilient independence that emerged during this period reveals the complex relationship between national storytelling and political decision-making, showing how countries often mythologise pragmatic choices to align them with grand historical narratives.

Seán Ó Mórdha's documentary series presents Ireland's wartime experience as a critical moment in its identity formation, illustrating how the decision to remain neutral—controversial internationally but broadly supported domestically—was incorporated into a larger narrative of Irish sovereignty and self-determination. This process reflects the universal tendency of societies to create cohesive stories that make sense of complex political realities.

Each episode examines pivotal moments in Ireland's development, revealing how national mythologies are not merely decorative but fundamentally constitutive of political reality. The series features perspectives from influential Irish figures including former Presidents and Taoisigh, offering unique insights into how national narratives are shaped by those who simultaneously create and are created by them.

By analysing the delicate balance between historical contingency and narrative construction, the series provides a sophisticated framework for understanding how societies integrate challenging periods into their collective identity. First broadcast in 2000, Seven Ages remains an invaluable resource for examining how national mythologies evolve to incorporate even the most difficult historical circumstances into a coherent story of national purpose and character.

This Baltic leather waistband adorned with brass decorations represents a sophisticated fusion of practical function and mythological expression. Archaeological findings of such items throughout the Baltic region reveal how everyday objects served as carriers of cultural identity and cosmic understanding in traditional societies.

The intricate brass fittings, featuring geometric patterns and solar symbols, transform a utilitarian item into a statement of both social status and spiritual alignment. The sun motif, recurring throughout Baltic decorative arts, connects the wearer to cycles of life, fertility, and temporal order—fundamental concepts in agricultural societies whose prosperity depended on cosmic regularity.

Beyond indicating social standing, such elaborately decorated belts likely served protective functions, with specific motifs believed to safeguard the wearer from various harms. This integration of practical, social, and apotropaic functions illustrates how pre-modern societies operated with more unified conceptual frameworks than modern compartmentalised thinking allows, seeing no contradiction between practical purpose and symbolic meaning.

The combination of leather and brass demonstrates not only technical skill but conceptual sophistication, bringing together animal-derived and earth-derived materials to create an object that mediates between different realms. This material hybridity mirrors the belt's function as a boundary marker on the human body, encircling the waist at the juncture of upper and lower body. Such items provide tangible evidence of how mythological thinking permeated everyday life in traditional Baltic societies, embedding cosmic understanding in the most practical aspects of material culture.

This small Baltic purse, adorned with patterns symbolising the cyclic movement of time, exemplifies how everyday objects in traditional societies served as carriers of cosmological understanding. The geometric motifs—spirals and circles—transform a practical item into a tangible expression of abstract concepts, demonstrating how material culture embodies philosophical worldviews.

The prevalence of cyclical imagery in Baltic textile arts reflects a fundamental understanding of time as circular rather than linear—a conception common to many traditional societies whose lives were governed by seasonal rhythms and astronomical cycles. By incorporating such motifs into everyday objects, Baltic peoples literally carried their cosmological framework with them, reinforcing cultural understanding through daily interaction with symbolic material culture.

Spirals and circles, recurring throughout Indo-European symbolic systems, visually represent the continuous flow of time and the eternal principles of renewal. These geometric abstractions function as simplified but profound expressions of complex philosophical concepts, making abstract principles tangible and accessible through material engagement.

The purse's practical function of containing and preserving valuables takes on additional significance when considering its decorative symbolism. Just as the purse secures physical resources, the cyclical imagery references the cosmic patterns that ensure the preservation and renewal of natural resources. This multi-layered functionality demonstrates how traditional Baltic culture integrated practical needs and spiritual understanding rather than treating them as separate domains. Such objects provide valuable insights into worldviews where material and metaphysical concerns were understood as inherently interconnected rather than distinct.

Skellig Michael, a jagged island rising dramatically from the Atlantic Ocean approximately 12 km off Ireland's southwest coast, stands as a remarkable testament to human resilience and spiritual devotion. This UNESCO World Heritage Site, designated in 1996, is renowned for its early medieval monastery, precariously perched 200 metres above sea level on the island's steep slopes.

Established by monks sometime between the 6th and 8th centuries CE, the monastery's austere beehive-shaped stone huts and hand-carved steps reflect the extreme asceticism of early Irish Christianity. For these monastic pioneers, Skellig Michael represented more than a remote retreat; it embodied a liminal space where terrestrial and divine realms intersected. The island's isolation mirrored their spiritual quest for proximity to God, exemplifying a broader trend in early medieval European monasticism that sought wilderness and marginal landscapes for contemplative practice.

Beyond its religious origins, Skellig Michael's cultural significance has evolved considerably over time. For centuries, it remained primarily a symbol of Irish endurance and spiritual heritage, attracting pilgrims and scholars interested in early Christian monasticism. More recently, the island captured global attention as a filming location for the Star Wars franchise, appearing in The Force Awakens (2015) and The Last Jedi (2017) as the refuge of Luke Skywalker. This contemporary reimagining has introduced this cultural treasure to new audiences worldwide, blending ancient mythology with modern storytelling.

This evolution illustrates how historical sites can acquire new layers of meaning through cultural reinterpretation. Skellig Michael's stark beauty and dramatic isolation have allowed it to transition from a place of religious devotion to a symbol of Ireland's heritage, and now to a site of popular cultural significance while retaining its essential character and historical importance.

'The Irish Rover' as performed by The Dubliners and The Pogues represents more than a traditional folk song—it embodies the dynamic tension between tradition and innovation in Irish cultural expression. This collaborative recording, released in 1987, brought together two generations of Irish musicians to reinvigorate a classic narrative ballad with contemporary energy.

The song itself tells the fantastical tale of an impossible ship and its unlikely crew, capturing the spirit of adventure and hyperbole that characterises much of Irish storytelling tradition. While ostensibly about a maritime journey, the song functions as a vehicle for exploring themes of Irish identity, emigration, and the mythologisation of the past that resonates deeply with the Irish experience.

What makes this particular rendition distinctive is the contrast between the performers. The Dubliners, established in 1962, were revered as guardians of traditional Irish folk music, having played a crucial role in preserving and popularising the genre. The Pogues, formed in 1982, approached traditional material with a punk-infused sensibility that initially faced resistance from traditionalists. Their collaboration represents a dialogue between preservation and innovation.

The recording exemplifies how Irish identity is continuously negotiated through cultural expression, demonstrating that tradition is not static but rather a living, evolving phenomenon. By blending traditional folk elements with contemporary sensibilities, 'The Irish Rover' showcases the ongoing dialogue between honouring heritage and embracing innovation.

This performance stands as a celebration of Irish cultural continuity, reinforcing a sense of belonging within the Irish diaspora and connecting generations through shared narratives and musical experience.

William Elliot Griffis's Dutch Fairy Tales for Young Folks represents a significant contribution to the preservation and transmission of Dutch folkloric traditions at a crucial historical juncture when rapid modernisation threatened traditional oral cultures. By collecting and adapting these narratives for young English-speaking readers, Griffis participated in the broader 19th and early 20th century movement to document folkloric traditions while simultaneously transforming them through new media and contexts.

The collection's focus on moral values inherent in Dutch folklore reflects how traditional narratives functioned as vehicles for cultural transmission across generations. Unlike modern entertainment that often separates amusement from instruction, these tales integrated both functions, providing engaging narratives that simultaneously reinforced community values and practical wisdom. Griffis's adaptation preserves this dual functionality while making it accessible to audiences outside its original cultural context.

Griffis's expertise in Dutch culture positioned him to serve as cultural translator, making these narratives accessible to English-speaking audiences while preserving distinctive elements that reflect particular Dutch historical experiences and values. This cross-cultural adaptation represents an important aspect of how folkloric traditions evolved in the modern era, maintaining relevance through translation while inevitably transforming through contact with new cultural contexts.

The illustrated format of the collection recognises how visual elements enhance folkloric transmission, particularly for younger audiences. This integration of text and image creates a multisensory experience that, while different from traditional oral storytelling, offers its own form of immersive engagement with cultural mythology. By introducing young readers to European cultural narratives through accessible adaptations, collections like this helped maintain continuity with traditional wisdom while adapting it to modern literary forms, preserving folklore not as static artifact but as living, evolving tradition.

Throughout centuries of human civilisation, few figures have been as systematically misunderstood, feared, and brutally persecuted as the witch. Far from being merely fictional characters in folktales, witches represent a powerful intersection of gender politics, social control, and collective hysteria—a dark historical narrative that transcends cultural boundaries and continues to resonate in contemporary society.

From the infamous trials in Salem, Massachusetts to the extensive witch-hunts across early modern Europe, the persecution of those labelled as "witches"—predominantly women—stands as a chilling testament to humanity's capacity for institutionalised violence against perceived outsiders. Historical records indicate that between the 15th and 18th centuries, an estimated 40,000 to 60,000 people were executed for alleged witchcraft across Europe and North America, though some scholarly estimates place the number significantly higher.

These accused individuals were not supernatural beings but real people caught in the crosshairs of religious dogma, patriarchal power structures, and community anxieties. Their persecution reveals how societies have historically weaponised otherness, transforming personal uniqueness, non-conformity, or marginal social status into perceived threats requiring elimination. Women who were elderly, unmarried, widowed, or who possessed knowledge of herbal medicine were particularly vulnerable to accusations.

The legacy of witch persecution extends beyond historical injustice to influence contemporary patterns of scapegoating and marginalisation. By examining the social mechanisms that enabled witch-hunts, we gain valuable insights into how fear is manipulated to suppress dissent or difference, and how accusations can function as tools of social control in times of uncertainty.

The resources linked below explore the complex mythology surrounding witches, tracing their transformation from folk healers and wise women to demonised figures, examining the brutal mechanisms of persecution, and considering how these historical patterns continue to inform modern attitudes toward women who challenge established norms.

This illustrated collection of folk tales from Flanders offers a fascinating window into how traditional European societies conceptualised the boundaries between human and animal realms. These narratives, drawn from the cultural heritage of Flanders and Brabant, explore a liminal space where transformation and moral instruction converge, revealing deep-seated anxieties and aspirations about human nature.

The tales themselves occupy a characteristic position in European folklore, blending practical moral instruction with fantastic elements that challenge fixed categories of existence. This combination reflects the multidimensional function of traditional narratives—simultaneously entertaining, instructing, and providing frameworks for understanding ambiguous aspects of human experience. The blurring of boundaries between human and animal forms frequently serves to explore moral and ethical questions about what truly constitutes humanity.

Jean de Bosschère's illustrations enhance this conceptual framework through their distinctive visual language. His "whimsical and grotesque" style perfectly complements narratives concerned with transformation and liminality, creating visual representations of the stories' thematic concerns. The integration of text and image creates a multisensory experience that mirrors traditional oral storytelling's engagement of multiple cognitive faculties.

The preservation of these tales in written and illustrated form represents a crucial transition in European folklore—from oral tradition to literary artifact. This transformation, occurring throughout Europe in the 19th and early 20th centuries, fundamentally altered how folk narratives functioned in society, shifting them from communal performances to private reading experiences. Nevertheless, the enduring appeal of these collected tales demonstrates how folkloric elements continue to resonate even when removed from their original social contexts, addressing psychological and social concerns that remain relevant despite changing cultural circumstances.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA) houses an ink drawing titled Pegasus, Inventory No. 3265/8, by Alfred Ost (1884-1945), a Belgian artist known for his distinctive graphic style and particular interest in animal subjects.

This drawing depicts the mythical winged horse from Greek mythology, a creature with a rich symbolic history spanning thousands of years of cultural development. In classical mythology, Pegasus emerged from the blood of the Gorgon Medusa after she was beheaded by the hero Perseus. The winged horse has most famously been associated with the hero Bellerophon, who captured and rode Pegasus in his quest to defeat the monstrous Chimera.

Beyond heroic narratives, Pegasus is traditionally linked to poetic inspiration. According to myth, he created the spring Hippocrene on Mount Helicon with a strike of his hoof, establishing a fountain that granted poetic inspiration to those who drank from it. This association led to Pegasus becoming a symbol of artistic inspiration and the transcendent power of imagination across Western cultural tradition.

Ost's rendering likely captures the dynamic essence of this mythical creature, emphasising its elegance and power through the expressive potential of the ink medium. The artist's known affinity for portraying animals with sympathy and insight would have informed his approach to this mythological subject.

The drawing represents the continued resonance of classical mythological figures in modern artistic practice, demonstrating how ancient symbolic creatures maintain their power to inspire creative interpretation across changing artistic movements and periods.

The Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA) houses a sketch titled A sketch depicting various zodiac figures, Inventory No. 3257/72, by Paul Joostens (1889-1960), a Belgian artist whose diverse career spanned multiple artistic movements and demonstrates the evolution of European modernism in the early 20th century.

Joostens's artistic development reflects a restless creativity and willingness to engage with different aesthetic approaches. Trained at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Antwerp, he began by working in a Cubist style before becoming associated with the provocative Dadaist movement during and after World War I. In this experimental phase, he created boldly innovative collages from found materials, aligning his practice with the irreverent and critical spirit of international Dada.

By the mid-1920s, Joostens underwent a significant stylistic shift, developing what he termed his "Gothic Joostens" period. This phase was heavily influenced by the Flemish Primitive painters like Hans Memling, whose meticulous attention to detail and spiritual intensity provided a counterpoint to modernist abstraction. During this period, Joostens created religious-themed works, particularly Madonna images, and joined De Pelgrim, a Catholic-inspired art collective that sought to reconnect modern art with religious traditions.

Despite these shifts in his primary focus, Joostens maintained a diverse artistic practice throughout his life. He continued to explore sensual themes in his drawings alongside his religious work, and in later years returned to experimental Dadaist assemblages. His fiery temperament and individualism eventually led to his isolation from mainstream artistic circles, a withdrawal reflected in the darker, anthracite-coloured drawings he produced during the 1950s.

This zodiac sketch represents one facet of Joostens's multifaceted artistic vision, demonstrating his engagement with symbolic and mythological themes that transcend specific stylistic periods.