Aboriginal Art

Bardayal Nadjamerrek was a renaissance man of Western Arnhem Land, at a time when the region as a whole was experiencing huge cultural transformation. In thinking about the idea of renaissance, it is worth comparing Nadjamerrek’s achievements to an artist who might be thought of as his Italian counterpart: Giotto di Bondone. Like Nadjamerrek, Giotto’s work was steeped in tradition – in his case, the extraordinary aesthetic accomplishments of the Byzantine Empire. Yet, through their individuality, both artists helped spark an artistic revolution. Like Giotto, Bardayal Nadjamerrek can be seen as a pioneering artist who paved the way for the radical developments that would follow him. Kenneth Clarke once said of Giotto, “Once we have learnt Giotto’s language, we can recognise him as one of the greatest masters of painted drama that has ever lived.” The same could be said for Bardayal Nadjamerrek.

In this chapter, I propose that indigenous graffiti and street art are interconnected with the political mobilization of indigenous groups who actively oppose the structural and systemic histories of violence suffered by indigenous people under settler colonialism. Indigenous graffiti and street art work to destabilize colonial occupations of indigenous territory, by drawing attention to the ways that the existence of settler colonial infrastructure and architecture operates as material evidence of indigenous suffering. By attempting to reclaim the constructed spaces of colonialism through modes of socio-aesthetic intervention, I maintain that the work produced by indigenous graffiti writers and street artists unfold productive strategies of decolonization. My analysis raises questions about the radical potential of indigenous graffiti and street art to delegitimize oppressive social conditions inflicted upon indigenous people by colonial powers.

There are several bark paintings in the Gerd and Helga Plewig Collection attributed to Nayombolmi (ca. 1895–1967) and Djimongurr (ca. 1910–1969). Like other Aboriginal artists of their generation from Western Arnhem Land, many of whom are represented in this fascinating collection, they were also known to have created paintings in rock shelters in the landscape. What distinguishes Nayombolmi and Djimongurr
from their peers, however, is the mounting evidence that suggests these artists were more prolific in creating artworks on rock than they were on bark. Nayombolmi, in particular, is renowned as the world’s most prolific rock art artist. He created more than 650 paintings at over 50 locations. The same may be true for Djimongurr, but the extent of his rock paintings portfolio is only just beginning to be revealed. Their last known rock paintings were created in 1964.

Photographs of Australian Aboriginal people are powerful objects. Produced
from the 1840s, when the camera first arrived in the continent’s nascent
white settlements, such images are now invested with new meanings,
becoming a rich resource for Indigenous families, history-telling and culture.
The intersection of imperialism, science and popular curiosity generated a vast
body of imagery of Indigenous peoples now held within the archive. This
chapter assesses Australian Aboriginal photographic archives both as an
instrument of past power inequalities but also asking whether such archives
might nevertheless be ‘democratized’ in the present. I first trace the
production and circulation of such images beginning during the nineteenth
century, before turning to their more recent transformations in the hands of
Aboriginal people, examining the Indigenous significance of historical
photographs as revealed through research with relatives and descendants of
the images’ subjects. I conclude by exploring the ways that Aboriginal photo-
media artists have engaged with this rich and vast archive.

In this paper we explore Aboriginal oral traditions that relate to Australian meteorite craters. Using the literature, first-hand ethnographic records and fieldtrip data, we identify oral traditions and artworks associated with four impact sites: Gosses Bluff, Henbury, Liverpool and Wolfe Creek. Oral traditions describe impact origins for Gosses Bluff, Henbury and Wolfe Creek Craters, and non-impact origins for Liverpool Crater, with Henbury and Wolfe Creek stories having both impact and non-impact origins. Three impact sites that are believed to have been formed during human habitation of Australia. Dalgaranga, Veevers, and Boxhole do not have associated oral traditions that are reported in the literature.

The first exhibition of its kind, ‘Hand in Hand’ featured Aboriginal, Torres Strait Islander, Maori, Samoan, Niuean and Fijian Artists based in Aotearoa, USA and Australia.

The 2008 annual Boomalli Aboriginal Artists Co-operative’s Sydney Mardi Gras exhibition was an opportunity for Indigenous artists across the Pacific to participate in a celebration of international standing through a program that openly challenged dominant views on sexuality.

The exhibition was also held in collaboration with the Performance Space @ CarriageWorks in Australia.

The artwork featured was a focus on non-conventional media including: the moving image, installation and also inter-disciplinary media including performance art, music and adornment. The artists: Jeffery Samuels, Tracey Moffatt, Arone Raymond Meeks, r e a, Darrell Sibosado, Clinton Nain, Adrian Wills, Dianne Jones, Gary Lee, Moana Nepia, Niwhai Tupaea, Sionelagi Falemaka, Dan Taulapapa McMullin, Claudine Sartain, Salote Tawale & artist / curator: Jenny Fraser (AUS) & invited guest artist / curator Shigeyuki Kihara (NZ).

在一個民族音樂學及人類學學者的學習與研究過程中，聽 聞某個原住民族傳統智慧與知識正在逐漸凋零甚至已經凋零， 這已經是不足為奇的事了。隨著全球化與現代化，人類普遍嚮 往重視快速有效率的知識產物，原住民族傳統智慧看似不符合 需求也跟不上潮流。諷刺的是，開發中國家慢慢地傾向追求健 康有機飲食，開發綠色能源，支持企業永續經營，在原住民政 策上也開始大刀闊斧地進行改變，但大部份還是傾向利用原住 民世世代代對土地資源管理的方法與智慧，來“改善” 開發中 國家所面臨的環境污染問題，藉此牟利或開發更有效的藥品或 日用品等，此舉不但不能保護原住民傳統智慧也不能對其創作 予以尊重，反而剝削了其勞力與時間來換取(相對利益值)少 量的金錢。
原住民的傳統智慧與創作需要場域及時間來延續。本報告 將以加拿大和澳大利亞的經驗為例，來審視其歷史上原住民土 地運動與政府政策之對應所帶來的保護或反效果。最後，也將以蘭嶼達悟族的情況為證，陳述其目前在延續傳統智慧創作過程的瓶頸，希望以此提供政府決策者一些建設性的意見。

En Salta, en Buenos Aires o en Asunción, incluso en Aix-en-Provence, en Nueva York o en Londres, en una mesa, sobre una cómoda o en una repisa se luce una talla fabricada por los wichís del Gran Chaco. Son pequeñas esculturas figurativas en madera que representan animales (patos, corzuelas, pingüinos) o imágenes religiosas (Cristos, ángeles, cruces); son utensilios (fuentes, cucharas) y souvenirs muy diversos.
Entre los bienes manufacturados por los varones del grupo las tallas son probablemente el más importante por su valor económico, por el esmero y virtuosismo necesarios para confeccionarlas, y porque en la región se convirtieron en un símbolo del grupo étnico. Muchos varones wichís son tallistas, y todo indica que sus piezas dieron origen a las tallas modernas de otros indígenas del Chaco. Sin embargo, las tallas wichís no responden de forma directa a ninguna tradición ancestral ni forman parte de culto alguno, sino que constituyen el producto de un arte étnico inducido, orientado al mercado regional, nacional o internacional de artesanías. ¿De dónde salieron? Tanto los materiales, las técnicas y los temas de las tallas como su producción, su intercambio y su consumo son parte de un universo social y ecológico contemporáneo. Sin embargo, ¿no están también estos elementos profundamente enraizados en la historia del grupo? Precisamente, existen indicios que permiten remontar las tallas wichís a un tiempo anterior a la colonización: entre los wichís ‒y entre otros pueblos chaqueños con quienes están cultural, lingüística y geográficamente vinculados‒ existió una tradición antigua de utensilios de madera, en algunos casos con apéndices zoomorfos. ¿Hay, pues, en las tallas wichís algo de una sociocosmovisión netamente indígena? Si la respuesta fuese positiva, ¿cómo se añaden a esta serie los animales exóticos y los personajes del imaginario cristiano? Estas son las preguntas que intentaré contestar en las páginas que siguen, apelando a mi trabajo de campo, a algunas piezas de colecciones y a la bibliografía. Y con estas respuestas, intentaré mostrar que las tallas wichís son, en varios sentidos, imágenes de la alteridad.

For young urban hipsters, transforming the sneakers that they wear has evolved into a culture all of its own. Since footwear can tell a lot about a culture, the curators developed a show that would represent a modern day Aboriginal living their reality within a concrete jungle – a real life interpretation of today’s Aboriginal urban culture. Dealing with issues of identity, the contemporary Aboriginal artist cannot be afraid to utilize new materials and create a new vocabulary. Each artist transformed a pair of plain white sneakers into a cultural expression. At some point Aboriginal people have to tell their own stories and describe the world they know in their own way and not be afraid to break with tradition as long as they remain respectful of those traditions.

“Traditional ecological knowledge” (TEK) is an important aspect of Canadian conservation management, but the very notion of TEK is controversial.  It can be seen as conflicting with empirically-validated conservation science; its incorporation into environmental assessment can be seen as colonialist; some argue that TEK perpetuates the myth of the ecological Indian; others argue that identifying “authenticity” with “tradition” denies indigenous peoples access to modernity.  The philosophical issues here are myriad.  Does TEK necessarily essentialize indigenous peoples by requiring their identities to be static and rooted in the past?  Does viewing indigenous peoples as a counterpart to Western civilization paradoxically denigrate and venerate them as “the Other” and assume a dichotomous framework ignorant of how they actually live?  Critics continue to analyze indigeneity in terms of purity and degradation, as if the logic of virginity was not itself an historical and contingent construction of colonialism.
I argue that this fashionable skepticism is as mistaken as the “myths” it seeks to desecrate.  Debate rages as to how TEK should or should not be critiqued, but how TEK might critique mainstream Canadian culture is conveniently neglected.  Indigenous perspectives are thus in a bind:  scholars criticize them or defend them from criticism, and yet neutralize their ability to criticize the status quo.  The uncritical result is tacitly affirmative “hybridity,” social acquiescence to modernity as a fait accompli.  Skeptics thus presuppose that there can be no norms to which cultures are beholden, meanwhile contradicting their own relativism when interpreting tradition through the lens of Enlightenment progressivism.
By contrast, a model for understanding how appropriating indigenous knowledge can be appropriate is needed.  Though it is usually summarily dismissed, I suggest the radical environmental philosophy known as “primitivism” to this end:  the use of contemporary, historic and pre-historic hunting-gathering as grounds for criticism of contemporary Canadian life.  The paradoxes of TEK are manufactured by the agrarian logics which primitivism calls into question.  Understanding TEK as social critique may illumine not only the failings of so-called civilization, but also many of the struggles faced by aboriginals in Canada.

This is a study of the influences of Western institutions and individuals on the formation of Indigenous Australian ethnographic collections. More specifically, it is concerned with the collection strategies employed by these Western institutions and individuals during the 1948 American-Australian Scientific Expedition (AASEAL). The expedition involved three major base camps: Groote Eylandt, Yirrkala and Oenpelli and took place three years after the end of the Second World War. It represents the political, social and economic life, priorities and aims of the time. Following the expedition, the collection of ethnographic artefacts was distributed to ten different institutions around Australia and the United States of America.

While many researchers have viewed Indigenous Australian ethnographic collections as uncontaminated evidence of the cultures from which the material was acquired, more recently questions have been asked about the context of the materials, the outside influences on its composition and, in short, whether they are more representative of Indigenous cultures or Western cultures. An analysis of the AASEAL ethnographic collections showed trends in the biases of the Western researchers and institutions and the impact of overarching theories of human nature on colonial collecting is clearly visible in this study. Social Darwinism, colonial guilt and the Great Chain of Being all impacted upon the formation and the present composition of these collections despite all these theories having come under serious scrutiny in the preceding years.

Bark paintings, analysed as an example of the categories of artefact collected during AASEAL, have disclosed their significant impact on museums and art galleries following World War Two. Of particular consequence is the realisation that for many art galleries in Australia, these artworks were the first examples of Indigenous Australian art acquired. This emphasises the impact of these paintings and their influence on future acquisitions particularly by art galleries. Artistic artefacts were ceasing to be viewed by Western society as ethnographic artefacts that belonged in museums. These paintings assisted and perhaps instituted a move towards the Indigenous Australian art being considered for its aesthetic qualities and equal to Western art in Western minds.

Indigenous arts, simultaneously attuned to local voices and global cultural flows, have often been the vanguard in communicating what is at stake in the interactions, contradictions, disjunctions, opportunities, exclusions, injustices and aspirations that globalization entails. Focusing specifically on embodied arts and activism, this interdisciplinary volume offers vital new perspectives on the power and precariousness of indigeneity as a politicized cultural force in our unevenly connected world. Twenty-three distinct voices speak to the growing visibility of indigenous peoples' performance on a global scale over recent decades, drawing specific examples from the Americas, Australia, the Pacific, Scandinavia and South Africa. An ethical touchstone in some arenas and a thorny complication in others, indigeneity is now belatedly recognised as mattering in global debates about natural resources, heritage, governance, belonging and social justice, to name just some of the contentious issues that continue to stall the unfinished business of decolonization. To explore this critical terrain, the essays and images gathered here range in subject from independent film, musical production, endurance art and the performative turn in exhibition and repatriation practices to the appropriation of hip-hop, karaoke and reality TV. Collectively, they urge a fresh look at mechanisms of postcolonial entanglement in the early 21st century as well as the particular rights and insights afforded by indigeneity in that process.

Australia Now and ventures like it with key trading partner countries make up one prominent strand of cultural activity contributing to the internationalisation of Aboriginal performing arts. Multi-country touring of selected works constitutes another strand, though in practice the two are often linked, not least through government or corporate sponsorship systems. What interests me here are political interventions that Aboriginal people are staging in the diverse international arenas opening up for their work, even as it is harnessed - some would say co-opted - to celebrate the creativity of Australia at large. I want to think about these dynamics in relation to indigenous forms of cultural diplomacy, which, I will argue, involve embodied acts and aesthetic exchanges that sustain minority communities within, against and beyond the fragmentation forces of globalisation. My indicative case examples, among many possibilities, are two works developed in regional Australia and bought to London in 2013: Namatjira and Marrugeku's Gudirr Gudirr.

The Pitt Rivers Museum at Oxford University is a magical place, full of fascination with the ethnographic and inspiring everyone from the Harry Potter filmmakers to the Chapman Brothers. Stepping through the door, you are immersed in a time gone by, a museum of a museum, seemingly unchanged since its opening in 1884. People often talk about the ancientness of Australian Aboriginal art, an aspect of "the oldest continuous living culture on the planet". Indeed, a perfunctory glance might confirm that 'old art' in an 'old museum' is a perfect fit.

Interview with Grayson Perry on issues of repatriation from the British Museum after Enduring Civilization at the British Museum and in anticipation of My Pretty Little Art Career at the MCA Sydney and The Encounters at the National Museum of Australia Canberra.

EcoCentrix: Indigenous Arts, Sustainable Acts
International Exhibition of Indigenous Art and Performance
Bargehouse, Oxo Tower Wharf, Southbank, London
25 October – 10 November 2013
Alive to the power of performance, contemporary indigenous artists merge the familiar with the unexpected, the traditional with the experimental, creating new forms and objects along the way. They provoke dialogues about resources, social justice and stereotypes, and show the triumphs and failures of our times.
EcoCentrix: Indigenous Arts, Sustainable Acts [brought] to London the work of more than 40 artists from the Americas, Australia, the Pacific and South Africa. Uniquely comprised of both live performance and the traces it leaves behind in images, digital media, sounds, texts and crafted objects, this interactive exhibition [offered] fresh ways of grasping what sustainable can mean.
Chief Curator: Prof. Helen Gilbert
Assistant Curator: Dani Phillipson
Film Curator: Charlotte Gleghorn
Designers: Lucy Algar, Dani Phillipson
Digital Designer: Jamie Griffiths
Curatorial Assistants: Sergio Huarcaya, Genner Llanes-Ortiz, Dylan Robinson

This essay explores questions of cross-cultural aesthetic appreciation when galleries display indigenous artefacts or artists appropriate religious symbols. In such cases, the work is not necessarily treated with disrespect, and yet can deeply concern or distress to people in the cultures that produce the representation. I suggest that what underlies this response is a different understanding of the metaphysics of art, and the relationship between the symbol and what it represents. Rather than being a 'mere' symbol and conventional sign, such symbols are thought of as participating in what they represent, and the work as externalising spiritual reality. From the perspective of this metaphysical framework, how we 'should' respond to these religious objects is with recognition of the nature of that reality, and that response should express our relationship to that reality, or the order of the world. Finally I argue that such a belief is recognisable to people who do not accept that the symbols have this metaphysical structure, a,s even in contemporary Western societies, people will treat with respect images of that which they hold dear.

Hannah Presley and I discuss Indigenous Australian art. It’s a balance of infectious enthusiasm and deep knowledge. Not far into the conversation I feel a part of something new, yet also along for the ride. Presley’s passion for her field is contagious; it’s a rapid-fire, dry-witted, bridging discussion that crosses expansive geographical and conceptual territory. We touch on the art market, histories of Indigenous dispossession and ceramic budgies.

An exhibition of the moving image, including stop-motion, 3D and other animation techniques, Big Eye showcases Aboriginal animations from Australia and Canada in a unique cross-tribal exchange of ideas and world views.

Aboriginal Australian screen artists use digital storytelling techniques to bring cultural knowledge and contemporary exploration of country to the fore, with an original and distinctive voice.

Big Eye builds on its 2008 debut screening in Darwin, featuring prominent Aboriginal Australian artists to now include works by Aboriginal Canadian Animators and Artists.

Featuring fom Canada: Dark Thunder Productions, Raven Tales, Skawennati Tricia Fragnito & AbTech, Rabbit and Bear Paws and The Healthy Aboriginal Network; and from Australia: Frank Mcleod & Aboriginal Nations, Aroha Groves, Christine Peacock & Rebekah Pitt & John Graham, the Gunbalanya Community & Gozer Media, and artist/curator Jenny Fraser.

PhD by creative project and exegesis: Balla, P. (2020) Disrupting Artistic Terra Nullius: The ways that First Nations women in art & community speak Blak to the colony & patriarchy The concept of 'artistic terra nullius' refers to the violent erasure of First Nations peoples in colony Australia and highlights their absence particularly Aboriginal Women in the white-dominated arts world. This doctoral research by creative project and exegesis sets out to document and respond to the work of Aboriginal women in art and community. I have used practice-led inquiry as the main methodology, informed by my own roles as artist, writer, curator, community researcher and as a Wemba-Wemba & Gunditjmara, matriarchal woman.