The last days of St Agnes Place, London’s longest ever running squat
- Text by Isaac Muk
- Photography by Janine Wiedel
Off the grid — Photographer Janine Wiedel spent four years documenting the people of the Kennington squat, who for decades made a forgotten row of terraced houses a home.
Janine Wiedel first went to St Agnes Place in the ’80s. Set on an unassuming South London backstreet just off Kennington Park and a stone’s throw from Oval tube station, the road was the site of London’s longest ever running squat. It was comprised of a row of 21 or 22 Victorian terrace houses (depending on who you believe) and housed thousands of people between 1969 and 2007.
“I was looking for parts for my Volkswagen van, and it was like a scrapyard there,” Wiedel remembers. “Ever since then I kept going through that road and walking through, thinking that I’ve got to stop and see what’s going on because it was kind of edgy, it was alternative, it was gritty – I kept thinking there’s something here.”
She eventually did decades later, when it became clear that its days were numbered. “In 2003, the council pretty much said that they were going to demolish it, and I read it in the newspaper that it was up for eviction. I thought: ‘I can’t wait any longer,’” the photographer continues. When she returned, things had changed – instead of parts and materials, there were rooms that had been turned into homes, with painted walls, reclaimed furniture and carefully maintained fittings.
Wiedel began stopping by the squat regularly with her camera, growing close and photographing several of the people who lived there. There were long term residents who neighboured fleeting passers-through, while it was also the site of the London Rastafarian Community Centre and the Rasta Temple. It was known to be Bob Marley’s favourite place to visit in London, whenever he was in the city.
It was a diverse place, but what Wiedel found was a spirit of collectivism that had become growingly difficult to find in the ever-modernising metropolis of the British capital. “Each time I went, there were different people. It was a Rastafarian community, then there were young people, older people – it was an amazing mix,” she says. “They were maybe different, but they were all supportive – they listened, were helpful and looked out for each other. People could always find someone who had similar experiences and knew the difficulties of living outside the grid.”
Her new book, St Agnes Place Squat, is the result of her years documenting the final days of London’s longest ever running squat, and most importantly, its people. Intimate portraits taken inside people’s bedrooms, in the communal yard or on the street are laid out alongside eye-opening interviews that bring to light their diverse but otherwise overlooked stories. There’s techno graphic designer Julz, street juggler Bruno who had been homeless in Portugal, and Benj from the Rastafarian community, who moved to England from Jamaica in the ’50s, when racism was rife.
But they all came together under the St Agnes Place, which provided them with a space where they could live with a roof over their head. They lived without paying rent, but they kept a space that for decades was largely ignored in good condition. “In general, they really made an effort to make it their home – people lived there for 30 years and it was their home,” Wiedel says. “They did all their own repairs and fixed the houses up, and they paid their utility bills. Lambeth Council had left them to rack and ruin, and when the squatters moved in they were done up properly.”
Yet that communal shelter was to come to an end abruptly. In 2005, after fighting off countless threats of eviction over the decades and fighting long legal battles, a huge number of riot police turned up to St Agnes Place, with helmets, body armour and shields. Despite attempts to resist eviction, doors were smashed down and residents were forcibly removed.
“250 riot police just sweeping everybody up and ploughing through people’s homes. It was absolutely devastating, because they lost their homes,” Wiedel explains. “They were scattered around and a lot of them got PTSD from it. It was really devastating, because they also lost their community – many were vulnerable and needed that support, because mainstream society wasn’t giving them the support they needed.”
150 people were made homeless overnight, while the London Rastafarian Community Centre battled for adverse possession in the courts. However, that fight came to an abrupt end after a fire broke out under mysterious circumstances. The demolition was eventually completed in 2007.
Ultimately, Wiedel’s photographs are an ode to a lost side of London. Since the early 2000s, property prices and value have skyrocketed in the British capital and elsewhere across the country, driven largely by foreign investment, according to research by King’s College London. Housing has become big business, as opposed to a human necessity, leaving more and more people being left unable to afford a roof over their heads.
“Housing now is thought of in terms of exchange value, rather than of use as homes,” Wiedel says. “Property has become an investment, not a place to live, and squatting is considered immoral by the media, rather than a redistribution of unused spaces and creative hubs.”
Meanwhile, laws have become increasingly restrictive and harsh, and since 2012 squatting residential properties is criminalised, and can be punished by imprisonment or fines. It means that there are between 160,000 and 300,000 empty homes in London while between 2024 and 2025 a record 13,000 people were rough sleeping. A further 180,000 are believed to be in temporary accommodation.
St Agnes Place Squat is ultimately an ode to a lost side of London, where people gathered and formed a radical, countercultural community. “I think now we’re in a time once again when young people are without a lot of money, and they can’t get on the market – housing and renting are impossibly high,” Wiedel continues. “Now squatting in residential properties is illegal, so I think St Agnes Place is really important to remember. People here were also artists and musicians, and more alternative people who were able to live somewhere and be creative – today, I can’t see how they can do it.”
St Agnes Place Squat by Janine Wiedel is published by RRB Photobooks.
Isaac Muk is Huck’s digital editor. Follow him on Bluesky.
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