Michael Moynihan: Should Cork get Rory’s guitar? We haven’t exactly honoured him up to now

Rory Gallagher playing his instantly-recognisable Fender Stratocaster at the Macroom Mountain Dew Festival in Co Cork on June 26, 1977. Picture: Irish Examiner Archive
Sorry for being late to the table on the whole Rory Gallagher guitar thing, but at least I’m here now. Let me plug in my amp and turn it all the way up to eleven.
Good news, surely: The main instrument used by one of the world’s great guitarists bought by Live Nation with a view to keeping it in Ireland — what’s not to like?
I note the statement from the National Museum of Ireland on the guitar being donated to it:
I’m not sure if an exhibition of that name based in Dublin is indicative of anything other than Unchanging Ireland, or Unchanging Attitudes To The Rest Of The Country at least, but there are more important questions.
Should the guitar be exhibited in Cork?
Let me explain.
Come to Paul Street in the heart of Cork city and Rory Gallagher Place, specifically. One of the first things you’ll notice is the bronze sculpture honouring the musician.

Mind you, I said it was one of the first things you’ll notice.
One of the other things you’ll notice immediately is the rubbish bin right in front of it.
This bin is usually overflowing with litter of all kinds, which is better than having to wade through said litter if it were scattered all over the plaza.
It doesn’t do much for the Rory Gallagher fans who’d like a picture of the sculpture, however. It’s located at exactly the point you’d stand if you were taking a photo of someone next to the sculpture, so either a) you stand in front of it and you’re too close or b) you stand beyond it and all those fast-food wrappers and takeaway coffee cups spilling out of the bin form an interesting foreground to your snap.
Obviously you can take a picture at an angle, with the sculpture side on, but equally obviously it was installed to face out across the plaza. It’s pretty disappointing, then, that you can’t really photograph it without including a full rubbish bin in the foreground.
That’s why I wonder if the song and dance — ahem — being made about the Gallagher guitar is a little performative. There’s a public sculpture honouring the man in one of the busiest streets in the city, a spacious public plaza, and yet someone thought the very best place for a rubbish bin in the entire open space available was right in front of that sculpture.
That doesn’t sound to me like it honours the memory of an internationally-renowned musician.
Well, I’m sure lessons have been learned and we’ll do better going forward.
Perhaps a rare animal is nesting in the eaves or the foundation and conservation issues are holding up the work?
Or maybe a private company — cough — is carrying out the work and needs more funds due to building inflation?
In any event the glacial speed at which this work is progressing goes a long way towards explaining the Event Centre. Perhaps it’s just something in the air.
There doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of official appreciation of the power of names like Rory Gallagher’s — to make locals feel proud of the place, to celebrate talent and accomplishment, to draw visitors.
At least the bandstand wasn’t dumped in a yard like the Fireman’s Rest and left to rot, only to be restored years later at a cost of hundreds of thousands of euro. Back to that soon, though.