Sculpture By The We

BY LLOYD GORMAN

Statues are not easily toppled. A profound and rapid shift in society and an angry mob are two of the key ingredients needed to tear down these standing symbols. Neither are they easily erected. It takes a collective will, creative cooperation, community effort, luck, money and voluntary input. They never just happen or come about by mistake. I was not involved with the push to get the Famine Memorial An Gorta Mór installed at Market Park, Subiaco but I got some glimpses into the process and the staggering amount of work and worry involved. A million things can go wrong and any one of them can derail the project. More than anyone else, Fred Rea, chairman of the Western Australia Irish Famine Committee, summed it up best in his address for the unveiling. “Without the dedicated support, effort and vision of the Irish and West Australian communities it could not have happened,” he said. It is worth listing the names of those involved as a demonstration of how many people (who went over and beyond) and groups were involved in making An Gorta Mór a reality. There was the genius and generosity of the sculptors Joan Walsh-Smith and Charlie Smith (originally from Waterford but now local to WA), and donation of a site and a cash contribution by Subiaco council under mayor Heather Henderson.

WAIFC committee members Peter McKenna, Sheila Murphy, Sean McDonagh, Allan Smith, Jim Egan, Vince Gallagher. Peter McKenna was project manager and was helped by Frank Smyth, Mark Price, Denis Burke, Nathan Colgan, Olan Healy and Andy and Sally Ann McDonald, John Whelahan, Sean King, Mark Keogh, Gay Collins, Carl and Marie Holmes, Henry McLaughlin, Mike Frawley and Dan White.

In Famine footsteps The event at Subiaco marked the official start of the president's visit to Australia and New Zealand. About a week later the presidential tour was in Tasmania where, amongst other engagements, President Higgins unveiled another famine related bronze sculpture of four convict women called “Footsteps” on the Hobart waterfront. In his speech at the unveiling ceremony, the president said the 14,000 convicts shipped there were “victims of a harsh judicial system that valued property above people’s lives.” The following piece written by Brian Corr was originally published in the November/ December 2017 edition of Irish Scene. Once upon a time, the King decided he didn’t want to live on the same soil as criminals, so he established a penal colony in a far off land that would later be called Tasmania. Hobart Town was the main population centre. That was 1803. It was no fairy-tale back then. Today, Hobart is a thriving city, the state capital of Tasmania; population c.220,000. It is one of the most attractive tourist destinations in the world, boasting lush vegetation, diverse wildlife, a long coastline and marvellous weather. A great place to live. And Hobart has grown up! Gone are the days when people hid the ‘stain’ of a convict ancestor, many of whom had been transported for petty crimes, such as the theft of food, or coins; stolen to help a starving family; destitute people trying to survive. So, when Uachtaráin na hÉireann Michael D Higgins, came to Hobart on the 14th October 2017, to unveil the life-size bronze sculptures of three women and one child - sculptures that represent the stories of women and children convicts, who arrived in Hobart more than 150 years ago - it was reason to celebrate.

Groups and companies who also put in included: Irish Families in Perth, Irish Golf Club of WA, Irish Club of WA, GAAWA, Claddagh Association of WA, Ireland-WA Forum, Irish Theatre Players, Perth Glasgow Celtic Supporters’ Club, Flightworld, Paul McLoughlin, Northside Meats and Paddy Monaghan. Quite apart from the all of Above: Irish President Michael D Higgins and his wife Sabina (right) this, there were endlessly long hours spent in with Fred Rea at the unveiling of the planning meetings by An Gorta Mór statue in 2017. members of the Irish Below left: President Higgins at the “Footsteps” statue in Hobart. Photos: Courtesy Maxwell Dublin embassy, Irish consulate in Perth Marty Kavanagh and his team, officials from Subiaco council, WA police, protocol staff from the premiers office and other agencies. In the end the whole thing went smoothly. There were a few finishing touches that came after the memorial was unveiled but it mattered not. Anyone who was there on the day will know what a memorable and proud day October 9, 2017 was in Michael D spoke powerfully, his voice resonating across the waterfront, and to a large audience; a beautiful sunny afternoon. Nearly 13,000 women, and 2,000 children, arrived in Hobart from Ireland between 1803 and 1853, torn from their families, after a bleak 25,000km journey, in the dark holds of ships, not knowing the future; hopeful for a new life. Some had small children. There was almost no hope of ever seeing their families again. Michael D didn’t hold back on the history front, saying: “One hundred and seventy years ago, famine raged through the fields of Ireland. ‘Black ‘47’ [1847] was the nadir of the Great Hunger, An Gorta Mór, when the peasant population of Ireland was literally dying in the ditches. Today I recall that terrible time in our nation’s history because not all who suffered died. Over a million people died of hunger and disease, but over two million were forced to leave their native land. The majority did so out of necessity, fleeing poverty, seeking a new life and a new hope in a new land.” The sculptures were created by renowned Irish artist Rowan Gillespie, who has completed companion works Subiaco. Irish President Michael D Higgins and his wife Sabina unveiled An Gorta Mór, which he dedicated with a world class speech worthy of the "captivating" Famine memorial. “[The sculptors] have accomplished a most beautiful and moving depiction of the desolation that unfolded during and following those apocalyptic famine years in the 1840s,” Mr Higgins said. “A mother, bent low by the crushing loss of her children. A people, hollowed out by starvation and forced exile. Caoineadh - keening, from the Irish word for weeping, so clearly and sensitively presented is a metaphor perhaps for the collective trauma that the Famine undoubtedly was for the Irish people, and the long shadow that it cast on successive generations scattered throughout the globe. For me, the work also brings to mind the perhaps unresolved feelings of loss, grief, anger and even guilt, of the survivors in Ireland, of those who fled, and indeed of all of their descendants, including those of us gathered here today. “We have struggled to come to terms with this seismic event in our shared story.” The president was presented with a bronze miniature An Gorta Mór modelled by the sculptors, a gift which now sits in Áras an Uachtaráin. Much more recently, the possibility of a similar monument being installed at a community in Ireland has become distinctly possible and we may be able to report more in the next edition of

Irish Scene. in Dublin and Toronto. On the 150th anniversary of the Great Famine, his Dublin sculptures gave a face to the suffering of the many starving people who fled from Ireland. On the 160th anniversary, his Toronto sculptures depicted those who arrived there full of hope for a new life in a new country. On the 170th anniversary, in Hobart, President Michael D said: “Rowan [Gillespie] did not need to imagine the women who were forced to make the perilous voyage. For he could meet them. I was particularly moved to learn that the models for Rowan’s sculptures are the descendants of some of these banished women, some of whom are with us here today”, and “These women and young girls, and the choices they made, shaped the world in which they lived. They were the founding mothers of Modern Australia. And so, it is fitting that we should remember them; and that we should celebrate them”, and “The women themselves had to survive their own incarceration and beatings, long hours of labour and harsh conditions in which they were housed. And they had to endure assignments to masters as bonded labour.”