THIS WAS MY LAST TIME TO SEE THIS WATER FEATURE
THIS WAS MY LAST TIME TO SEE THIS WATER FEATURE [THE ORB FOUNTAIN AT THE PEOPLES PARK IN WATERFORD 2021]
A Fond Farewell to Waterford's Orb Fountain (Photographs from 2021)
The photographs featured here were taken in 2021 and are my last images of the 'Orb Fountain' at the People's Park in Waterford. I had cancelled my planned visits between 2022 and 2024 for various reasons, and it was only upon returning in September 2025 that I discovered the water feature had been replaced. My understanding is that the work, by artist Tina O'Connell, was removed sometime in 2023 or 2024.
I chose not to publish these photographs back in 2021 because it was a very hot day, and the images featured many young children playing in the water. Out of respect for their privacy, I decided to wait.
Now, with advances in technology, it is possible to digitally remove people from photographs. I have used these tools to edit the images so they can finally be shared. However, the process is not always seamless, particularly when dealing with complex surfaces like water and reflections. As you may notice, some of the photographs can look a bit unusual as a result.
The Artist's Intent: A Crystal Ball for the Park
Tina O'Connell's artistic vision for 'In-Visible', which quickly became known locally as the 'Orb Fountain', was a radical departure from the decorative classicism of the original. Her primary goal was to create an intervention that would "resonate with the specific cultural context of Waterford and the landscape of the People's Park". The most powerful cultural signifier she identified was the city's world-famous Waterford Glass industry. Drawing on this heritage, O'Connell's initial, highly ambitious concept was to create a massive, solid glass sphere—a "crystal ball" that would function as a powerful optical apparatus.
The artistic function of the piece was not to be a static object of admiration, but an active agent in altering perception. O'Connell designed the sphere to work like a camera obscura, a device that projects an image of its surroundings. The powerful optics of the sphere would capture real-time images of the park's environment—the trees, the sky, the people—and invert them on its surface. This would create a surreal and engaging experience for the viewer, who could watch fellow park-goers walk past upside down or see the sky reflected at their feet. The art, therefore, was not merely the physical form of the orb, but the dynamic, ever-changing, inverted image of the world it presented. As the artist stated, the final work was intended to be "both a sculpture and an image, which... captures life, not through the transmission of messages or representations captured on film, but through the physics of light bent and diverted through the material form itself".
From Deep-Sea Bell to Public Art: A Feat of Material Science
The translation of this profound artistic concept into a physical reality proved to be a formidable technical challenge. The initial plan to fabricate a two-metre solid glass sphere was found to be beyond the available resources and timeline. The process was extraordinarily complex, requiring input from a NASA engineer with experience in producing the enormous lens for the Hubble Space Telescope. Much like the slowly cooling kilns at Waterford Crystal, the glass sphere would have needed a specialist oven to manage the extreme temperatures required to cast and anneal such a large volume of glass without it cracking—a process that was prohibitively expensive and time-consuming.
Faced with this obstacle, O'Connell and her team pivoted to an innovative materials-based solution. The answer was found at Stanley Plastics in the UK, a company specialising in high-grade acrylics. There, the artist discovered a form that could serve as a viable alternative: a deep-sea submarine diving bell. This two-metre diameter sphere, made from optically advanced, high-grade acrylic, provided the necessary transparency and durability. Working with specialists, it was calculated that by filling the hollow acrylic shell with a constant stream of clear, filtered water, they could create a form that was "optically equivalent to a glass sphere". This ingenious solution allowed the artist to achieve her desired camera obscura effect through a combination of advanced plastics and fluid dynamics, rather than solid glass.
The final sculpture was a minimalist masterpiece. The vast, transparent acrylic sphere was positioned on a large, circular platform made from black Kilkenny marble. A continuous flow of clear water was pumped to the apex of the orb, cascading evenly over its entire surface and into the basin below. This created a striking contrast in form and texture between the hard, smooth acrylic, the dark, solid marble, and the fluid, shimmering water. The sound of the cascading water was an "added bonus," adding a calming auditory dimension to the profound visual experience.
A Note on the Editing: The Challenge of AI Inpainting
To remove the people from the photographs, I used a technology called Generative AI, specifically a process often referred to as 'inpainting' or 'content-aware fill'. Here is a brief explanation of how it works and why it can produce slightly odd results.
When you remove an object from a photo, the AI analyses the pixels surrounding the empty area. It then generates entirely new pixels to fill the gap, essentially making an educated guess as to what the background should look like.
However, this process faces two main challenges, especially with images like these:
Lower Resolution Infill: The AI-generated 'patch' is a fabrication. Sometimes, this new content can have a slightly softer focus or a less detailed texture than the original, high-resolution photograph. This can make the edited area look subtly different from its surroundings.
Repeating Reflections: This is where AI often struggles. A wet, curved surface creates incredibly complex and unique reflections that are constantly changing. The AI doesn't understand the physics of light; it only sees patterns. When faced with a complex reflection, it may try to replicate a pattern it sees nearby, leading to unnatural, repeating textures that can look like a flawed copy-and-paste job. Recreating a believable, non-repeating reflection is one of the most difficult tasks for this technology.
A Fond Farewell to Waterford's Orb Fountain (Photographs from 2021)
The photographs featured here were taken in 2021 and are my last images of the 'Orb Fountain' at the People's Park in Waterford. I had cancelled my planned visits between 2022 and 2024 for various reasons, and it was only upon returning in September 2025 that I discovered the water feature had been replaced. My understanding is that the work, by artist Tina O'Connell, was removed sometime in 2023 or 2024.
I chose not to publish these photographs back in 2021 because it was a very hot day, and the images featured many young children playing in the water. Out of respect for their privacy, I decided to wait.
Now, with advances in technology, it is possible to digitally remove people from photographs. I have used these tools to edit the images so they can finally be shared. However, the process is not always seamless, particularly when dealing with complex surfaces like water and reflections. As you may notice, some of the photographs can look a bit unusual as a result.
The Artist's Intent: A Crystal Ball for the Park
Tina O'Connell's artistic vision for 'In-Visible', which quickly became known locally as the 'Orb Fountain', was a radical departure from the decorative classicism of the original. Her primary goal was to create an intervention that would "resonate with the specific cultural context of Waterford and the landscape of the People's Park". The most powerful cultural signifier she identified was the city's world-famous Waterford Glass industry. Drawing on this heritage, O'Connell's initial, highly ambitious concept was to create a massive, solid glass sphere—a "crystal ball" that would function as a powerful optical apparatus.
The artistic function of the piece was not to be a static object of admiration, but an active agent in altering perception. O'Connell designed the sphere to work like a camera obscura, a device that projects an image of its surroundings. The powerful optics of the sphere would capture real-time images of the park's environment—the trees, the sky, the people—and invert them on its surface. This would create a surreal and engaging experience for the viewer, who could watch fellow park-goers walk past upside down or see the sky reflected at their feet. The art, therefore, was not merely the physical form of the orb, but the dynamic, ever-changing, inverted image of the world it presented. As the artist stated, the final work was intended to be "both a sculpture and an image, which... captures life, not through the transmission of messages or representations captured on film, but through the physics of light bent and diverted through the material form itself".
From Deep-Sea Bell to Public Art: A Feat of Material Science
The translation of this profound artistic concept into a physical reality proved to be a formidable technical challenge. The initial plan to fabricate a two-metre solid glass sphere was found to be beyond the available resources and timeline. The process was extraordinarily complex, requiring input from a NASA engineer with experience in producing the enormous lens for the Hubble Space Telescope. Much like the slowly cooling kilns at Waterford Crystal, the glass sphere would have needed a specialist oven to manage the extreme temperatures required to cast and anneal such a large volume of glass without it cracking—a process that was prohibitively expensive and time-consuming.
Faced with this obstacle, O'Connell and her team pivoted to an innovative materials-based solution. The answer was found at Stanley Plastics in the UK, a company specialising in high-grade acrylics. There, the artist discovered a form that could serve as a viable alternative: a deep-sea submarine diving bell. This two-metre diameter sphere, made from optically advanced, high-grade acrylic, provided the necessary transparency and durability. Working with specialists, it was calculated that by filling the hollow acrylic shell with a constant stream of clear, filtered water, they could create a form that was "optically equivalent to a glass sphere". This ingenious solution allowed the artist to achieve her desired camera obscura effect through a combination of advanced plastics and fluid dynamics, rather than solid glass.
The final sculpture was a minimalist masterpiece. The vast, transparent acrylic sphere was positioned on a large, circular platform made from black Kilkenny marble. A continuous flow of clear water was pumped to the apex of the orb, cascading evenly over its entire surface and into the basin below. This created a striking contrast in form and texture between the hard, smooth acrylic, the dark, solid marble, and the fluid, shimmering water. The sound of the cascading water was an "added bonus," adding a calming auditory dimension to the profound visual experience.
A Note on the Editing: The Challenge of AI Inpainting
To remove the people from the photographs, I used a technology called Generative AI, specifically a process often referred to as 'inpainting' or 'content-aware fill'. Here is a brief explanation of how it works and why it can produce slightly odd results.
When you remove an object from a photo, the AI analyses the pixels surrounding the empty area. It then generates entirely new pixels to fill the gap, essentially making an educated guess as to what the background should look like.
However, this process faces two main challenges, especially with images like these:
Lower Resolution Infill: The AI-generated 'patch' is a fabrication. Sometimes, this new content can have a slightly softer focus or a less detailed texture than the original, high-resolution photograph. This can make the edited area look subtly different from its surroundings.
Repeating Reflections: This is where AI often struggles. A wet, curved surface creates incredibly complex and unique reflections that are constantly changing. The AI doesn't understand the physics of light; it only sees patterns. When faced with a complex reflection, it may try to replicate a pattern it sees nearby, leading to unnatural, repeating textures that can look like a flawed copy-and-paste job. Recreating a believable, non-repeating reflection is one of the most difficult tasks for this technology.