Andrea Newman’s new work, Baile na mBocht, showed at Studio 12, Backwater Artists Group on Wandesford Quay, Cork from 5 September to 3 October 2024.
Baile na mBocht represents an essential contribution to the discourse surrounding the housing crisis in Ireland. By intertwining her visual arts practice with community organising and the reclamation of the Irish language, Andrea addresses urgent social issues, including systemic violence, displacement, and the neglect of social housing. Her deeply place-based approach highlights the need to tell alternative stories about housing, land, and belonging, challenging dominant narratives shaped by those in positions of privilege.
When property ownership and access to resources often dictate the narratives that shape reality, it is critical to amplify stories of those marginalized by these systems. Baile na mBocht delves into Mayfield’s history, exposing the systemic violence and neglect experienced by its residents. In this exhibition the photograph of the Welcome to Mayfield headstone is a key image. As the perfect material representation of death, loss and grief in a place, this headstone was the catalyst for the show: an uncared for monument to Mayfield: the town of the poor (Baile na mBocht). This hard carved stone allowed ways in for Newman to make work that could question why more value is placed on certain parts of the city. Why are some places neglected and allowed to fall into disrepair while others are thoroughly maintained? Newman’s work threads together themes of individual and collective grief and loss, and systemic oppression, shedding light on the emotional and historical consequences of social housing neglect, eviction and displacement. Having grown up in social housing in Mayfield, she is uniquely positioned to bridge the gap between visual arts and activism to reveal its hidden stories, stories often excluded from mainstream conversations.
A crucial aspect of Newman’s work is her engagement with the Irish language. On entering Studio 12 I am drawn to two plaques mounted on a dark green wall beside an archival timeline. ‘Galar an Bháis ort’ is printed on steel introducing text which outlines the health consequences of black mould. The second plaque-like print reads ‘Go dTitfeadh an Tigh Ort’ introducing text which outlines a Sinn Féin survey of Cork City Council Housing tenants where 90% have or have had problems with maintenance issues on their homes.
Earlier this year I was working with Vagabond Reviews as Associate Producer for their most recent exhibition Emergency Knowledge: The Missing Archives (The LAB Gallery, Dublin, April-May 2024). The exhibition combined a rigorous examination of notions of emergency with archival practices of recovery and (re)construction. As well as introducing me to new language and understandings around emergency knowledge, I encountered an entirely new word: epistemicide. Encountering this new work by Andrea Newman, I began to think again about that word and how she has read the Irish language as an embodiment of state neglect and as a way of thinking about grief and loss. Epistemicide refers to the purposeful erasure of ways of knowing embedded within the cosmology of a particular people or place. What does it mean then for a language to be systematically reduced, almost to the point of silence? Growing up, when I asked my mother for quick translations from English into Irish she would oftensay: there’s no direct translation for that. It is only now that I am beginning to understand what she meant. There are ways of knowing and worlds contained within a language. In thinking about the loss of language and the erasure that happens in our cities, what do we need to remember? As public land and buildings are sold off, processes of erasing and rebuilding on the ghosts of our past unfold. We need to remember what has gone before. The focus on processes of remembering and archiving within Newman’s work has potential to be a critical tool in achieving housing justice.
She creates connections between language, land, and colonial history, exploring how the erasure of Irish language mirrors the loss of cultural and physical places. I was first introduced to Andrea’s work through her housing crisis dictionary in Irish which serves as both a critique and a reclamation, providing a new vocabulary to understand and challenge the structures perpetuating the housing crisis. In reimagining how we speak about housing and justice, Newman’s work opens pathways to unlearn inherited myths—such as the notion that Ireland is “full”—and confronts classism and racism embedded in these narratives.
Newman’s exploration of housing through an archival lens situates the current crisis within a broader historical and colonial context. Her publishing practice complements her visual installations and photography, creating a rich tapestry of critique and storytelling. By documenting Ireland’s derelict spaces and highlighting the neglect of social and public housing, Newman reveals the systemic violence perpetuated by state and local authorities. Her work also touches on the emotional toll of these issues, capturing the grief and loss tied to displacement and dereliction.
An element of Newman’s work is her use of humour to navigate the intersections of death, housing, and systemic violence. When speaking to Andrea she talks about black mould and black humour in the same sentence. Humour becomes a tool for survival and resistance, allowing audiences to engage with difficult subjects in a more accessible way. Newman’s ability to deconstruct inherited narratives and reconstruct them through poetics and visual language makes her work not only informative but also transformative.
Newman’s involvement with CATU (Community Action Tenants Union) and her work as an organiser underscore the symbiotic relationship between her organising and artistic practice. This intersection enhances her ability to weave together stories of systemic neglect, community resilience, and the fight for housing justice. Her audio work with CATU interviews further amplifies these voices, creating a multi-dimensional narrative of resistance and hope.
As urban development expands and landscapes transform, Newman’s focus on archiving the stories of specific places becomes increasingly vital. By documenting the changing boundaries and neglected spaces of cities like Cork, she preserves the history of communities often erased by gentrification and state neglect. I can’t help but think of John Bissett’s books ‘It’s Not Where You Live, It’s How You Live and Class and Gender Struggles in a Dublin Estate’ and ‘Regeneration: Public Good or Private Profit?’. The potential for Andrea to develop ethnographic work in the place where she grew up reminds me of John’s unique ability to untangle the complexities of systemic violence within the housing emergency. The day-to-day realities of social housing tenants strengthens her argument for holding city councils accountable and valuing social housing as an asset.
Andrea Newman’s work is a poignant reminder of the power of art to challenge systemic injustices and propose alternative futures. There is huge potential for arts practice that is threaded into the durational practice of community organising. This work underpins the crucial role of art as a space to archive and reflect on housing struggles and as a means to imagine and build alternative worlds where housing justice prevails. Mariame Kaba consistently reminds us that “Hope is a discipline”. We need to dismantle and build at the same time. By threading together visual language, archival research, humour, and activism, Andrea not only critiques the neglect of social housing but also inspires a reimagining of what housing justice could look like. Her work underscores the importance of telling untold stories, reclaiming lost languages, and advocating for systemic change in how we view and value our shared spaces.
Kate O’Shea