Visual art: The reality of fantasy island

The relationship between fantasy and reality is always on artist Ciaran Walsh's mind, whether he is musing about Coronation Street characters or creating brash microcosms, says Billy Leahy

Archipelago and other stories. By Ciaran Walsh. FOUR Gallery, 11 Burgh Quay, Dublin 2. www.fourdublin.com. Until 30 September

Musings on the relationship actor William Roache has with his fictional Coronation Street character, Ken Barlow, seems like an odd place for an exhibition to start. But in the entrance to Seven Burgh Quay, where the innovative Four Gallery is located, a series of white cards impeccably pinned to a noticeboard detail artist Ciaran Walsh's thoughts on just that subject.

The relationship and crossover between a sober reality and a fictional, imagined world is a concern never far from the centre of Walsh's work and plays an important role in his first solo show, Archipelago and Other Stories. So when we consider how television constantly blurs the boundaries between escapist myth and reality, with soap operas depicting a fictionalised version of reality and reality television creating its own hybrid, Roache's relevance becomes a little clearer; is he defined by his Coronation Street character, or his own personality? And how much do these overlap?

In the main gallery space, Walsh has created a miniature island landscape that hovers between the imagined and the real. Here is a model of a six-island archipelago, but one with reduced form and executed with tart cerise mountains and a brash blue coastal outline. The islands are situated beneath a clear plastic sheet, which covers them like a defensive tent or cocoon.

The protective plastic can be seen as providing the gaseous atmosphere or perhaps as a boundary keeping possible inhabitants safe. Of course this reading presumes the islands are utopian in nature; another way to view the sheet would be as a confining and restricting element similar to the Green Wall in Yevgeny Zamyatin's dystopia novel We.

The plastic is held in tent-like shape by a rope, whose tautness is ensured by two rocks pulling at one end, which is suggestive of gravity at work. Small lights add a welcoming glow to the miniature landscape, producing an enticing scene and escapist fantasy.

But it is just that – a fantasy. And throughout Walsh's work, this perfect world is unattainable. Even the idyllic archipelago is aware of its own superficiality with its brash blue and tartish pink. And if the very idea of an archipelago is immediately appealing, conjuring up images of tropical island idylls, it must be noted that in reality the majority of these island clusters are created by volcanic activity. Whether this is a planned element or not, it always seems a larger, harsh reality is ready to bring down Walsh's internal, personal fictions.

For the other piece in the main space, Walsh has meticulously cobbled together irregularly shaped fragments of wood to create a shield from behind which a red glow emanates from the top and bottom. The word "sheltered" is spelled out by the neon, something that is only revealed to the viewer when they hunker down to peer beneath the wooden shield.

The idea of hiding away is again present. To enter Walsh's tent it would be necessary to crawl, while to read the neon in 'Sheltered' we must reduce our height to that of a child by going down on our haunches. Perhaps Walsh's suggestion revolves around the idea that the innocence of childhood provides a protective veil and an ideal to escape to. Once more, however, it is an unattainable fantasy.