On a breezy October afternoon in a former cow shed in Co Galway, a twisting column of serpents rises in writhing forms. A pair of figures half-fashioned from wire and steel will soon whirl as enormous girls in a Halloween parade. This is the workshop of Macnas, the theatre company whose work has travelled the world but whose spiritual home lies in the realms of wild fantasy.

The serpents are made from judiciously burned foam swimming noodles. “We shopped around,” says Johnny O’Reilly, the company’s director. Some noodles go snaky; others simply shrivel. They’re obviously a hot commodity in these parts, as they also support the neck of another giant: The Boy. He currently lies sheltered from swallow droppings – always a hazard when working in a rural barn – by a large tarpaulin.

When I meet The Boy he is headless, although he is fully dressed in a green velvet jacket and brown breeches, and almost as eerie as the serpents. His head sits on a separate bench, where his eyes are being painted a hypnotic blue.

Artistry is everywhere. Fantastic drawings are pinned to boards; there are paint pots, spray cans and bits of metal. Heads and body parts of mythical creatures line the ledges of industrial shelving. One alien figure will soon be off to appear in Science Week.

Anyone who has marvelled at a Macnas parade would be in heaven here, meeting old friends. That said, many of their creations are recycled, either appearing in fresh guises or having their mechanisms gutted and repurposed. The theatre industry is remarkably profligate with set materials; Macnas show how much can be reused.

Macnas themselves are one of Ireland’s international success stories, their work resonating across generations.