A bit of back-story casts a dim light on the officially-sanctioned blue-ing of a Melbourne street art icon.

Rutledge Lane is a horseshoe-shaped lane that runs behind Hosier Lane, located in between Flinders St and Flinders Lane. It wraps around the building housing the bar Misty and the now defunct street art gallery Until Never, whose director, Andrew Macdonald, aka Andy Mac, began CityLights Projects in 1996.

In many ways, Mac was a pioneer. He was the first Australian gallery director to see the potential in graffiti and street art on such a large scale, he battled the Melbourne City Council for years and he supported many artists early in their careers, many of which have gone on to have significant careers as fine artists with large commercial galleries. He sought and obtained permission from the owners of buildings in the Hosier, Rutledge and also Centre Place laneways for street art, graffiti and his own curated outdoor art light boxes. CityLights held, over the course of over fifteen years, exhibitions by some of Australia’s brightest and finest artists and graffiti writers. A significant number of whom have gone on to become some of Australia’s most significant and interesting street and contemporary artists: Ha Ha, Ash Keating, Dlux (James Dodd), Phibs, Rone, Vexta, Nails, Civil, Anthony Lister, Deb, Al Stark, Braddock, Stormie Mills, Marc de Jong, Nat & Ali, Ben Frost, Adrian Doyle, David Noonan and Monica Tichachek. It hosted exhibitions by international street artists such as Blek Le Rat and Shepherd Fairey (Obey).

Exhibitions were held with artists living in New York, London, Dublin and Vienna, amongst other places.Amongst the street art exhibitions were those by graffiti writers: the Pieces exhibition in 2004 featured some strong names in graffiti, including old school kings Duel and Puzle, and significant mid-school writers Bonez, Renks, Phibs and Jors. Old school Melbourne writer Paris also exhibited there.

Looking back over the exhibitions held at CityLights, they are actually quite astounding in their diversity and vision: exhibitions were held of all female graffiti writers and street artists: not the usual ‘all girl’ exhibition, but one focusing on the theme of confrontation. Over the years CityLights hosted contemporary art photographers, installation artists, conceptual artists, projects with young people in Aboriginal communities in Western Australia and with the Aboriginal art centre on the Mornington Peninsula, Baluk Arts.

And many of these artists, probably all of them at once time of another, produced work on the walls of Hosier and Rutledge Lanes, both officially, as part of an exhibition, and also unofficially. Thus the walls became a compendium of significant street artists. There were also graffiti writers’ tags and pieces. It was a living, breathing entity.  Andy Mac encouraged any visiting artists or writers to paint the walls. I remember visiting with the now late Aboriginal artist Ian Abdulla, in 2004. Mac urged him to paint on the walls, Abdulla could not be convinced: as an Aboriginal man, he said, he would be the one arrested, not us, despite our insistence that he had permission from the building’s owners.

Mac has left now; the place has no guardian. It may have become more scruffy and run down, which was partly part of its appeal, but nonetheless I was shocked when street artist Adrian Doyle this week painted the entire lane blue, with the backing of the City of Melbourne and RMIT University.

In an artists’ statement, Doyle explained that the blue had come from experiences with his family and childhood, and that:

‘Thus, I would like to incorporate my past and my present in a Street Art piece using the colour Empty-Nursery Blue, and only this colour. By using Empty-Nursery Blue to cover Hosier Lane, I am symbolically ‘coating’ my present with my past, it is reminder to me and anyone who is living, that you are a product of your former experiences, and you should be reminded of them as you work your way through your present and into your future. By doing this, I am claiming that a colour in its pure form can be street art or graffiti. This is a great conceptual link from fine art to street art, a link that is often lacking in the Melbourne Street Art scene. By bridging this gap, I hope to expose more people not only to Street Art, but also to the importance of art in general.’

I am not sure I understand Doyle’s thinking here. The very site he painted over, as a conceptual artwork, had in fact been host to numerous conceptual artworks over the years of CityLights: from massive melting ice-blocks to umbrella installations. This is not the birth of conceptual street art in Melbourne: it had already happened: it had just left these lanes in particular when Mac did.

The concept of ephemerality is undoubtedly central to both graffiti and street art. Graffiti writers spend huge amounts of time and energy on works that may not even last twenty-four hours. How many masterpieces have vanished within days, weeks or months, been cleaned off or painted over (the City of Melbourne itself has painted grey over numerous well-executed graffiti and street art works)? This is part of its nature. As with much Aboriginal art, it is the act itself that is important, rather than the result of the work decades down the track. And yet, for an art historian, this is tragedy. It recalls the Australian government’s destruction of the famed Honey Ant mural at Papunya, which was part of the birth of the desert art movement.

For me any work of substance: a tag with nice flow, a detailed wildstyle piece, a witty political slogan, a funny line, a multi-layered intricate stencil, all the variants and forms of good quality graffiti and street art are valid and interesting. I prefer them to a monotone concrete wall, I prefer them to remain, perhaps with others adding work around them, or to them, if done correctly. I love the moving gallery walls of trains and static outside gallery walls. This was the beauty of Rutledge: it was a street art and graffiti cacophony: layers of imagery: tags, slogans, stencils, stickers, graffiti pieces, portraits, built up over years. Every time I walked around Rutledge, I’d take photographs of something that would catch my eye. There were works up high that made you look up; graffiti makes you look at your landscape, your city scape differently. It makes you look up and around and in corners, where you wouldn’t usually look. It stimulates your eye and mind.  It makes you wonder who painted it, what impetus drove someone to go to the effort of creating?

I enjoyed visiting it to see what had changed. Some pieces stayed for ages, some disappeared under others. I liked that it wasn’t just street art: graffiti writers were present too. The late 1990s to late 2000s were significant in Melbourne art: for it was really the time the street art movement was born. Graffiti had flourished in the 1980s (in Melbourne); while there are still some decent practitioners left, the golden age is over.

Street art is a newer movement but it too peaked in the early to mid 2000s. This was a time of the Gulf War, George W.Bush, dissent, activism, which was carried out in a major way through street art. There is little of that left. Pretty images appear; decorative ones. They are stylised and beautiful, and promote peace, not justice. Thus the popularity of street art has grown; it now appears on designer clothes trickling down to mass-produced t-shirts made in the very sweatshops the earlier street artists protested against.

Artists were emerging then and now have gone onto successful careers and are living all over the globe. There have been some interesting street artists appearing in recent years in Melbourne, but it is nothing like the energy and vitality of that time.

I think what fails for me about Doyle’s piece, is that as an artwork, it’s just not a particularly interesting idea. Reductionist colour works were interesting in the 1950s, when Rothko explored them. Rothko’s works contain shades and moods and colour variants. I am a researcher of colour and colour theory, I give lectures on the subject, exploring the symbolism in colour as investigated by artists such as Kandinsky to Rothko to Indigenous Australian artists. But this work to me is just well, simply, rather boring: it is not a burner, no matter how much Adrian Doyle may say it is. A burner is a Dondi car: design and technique and colour and form and movement all done under the cover of darkness, under pressure. To me, and to many graffiti writers and street artists, this is a massive buff. A buff provides a clean slate, true. Lord Mayor Robert Doyle himself said that:

”We are very proud of our street art in Melbourne and the epicentre of that is Hosier and Rutledge Lane and over the weekend my eponym Adrian Doyle has given us a blank canvas in Rutledge Lane…”

Whilst I would deny the original part of that sentence as historically true, perhaps now that street art brings advertisers, films and tourists, the Council is finally ‘very proud’ of it. Why then destroy it, why not create a new ‘blank canvas’ in another lane, let the street art and graffiti, which Melbourne can do really, really well, spread out into other parts of the city, bring more colour and vibrancy and life to the city, more creativity, give the kids more to do? Why cover over something that was a part of Melbourne, Australia and the world’s cultural history?

Furthermore, I find the ‘nursery’ aspect patronising. I understand Doyle’s personal relationship to the colour, which is mildly interesting, but painting a ‘children’s room’ is patronising to artists and writers who are largely grown adults. The lane is not just for kids. Taking a paternalistic, ‘I will save street art’ stance is testimony perhaps to an over-developed ego and the inclusion of the Lord Mayor and a large University in its backing, the paternalistic big fathers of the public, further adds to this feeling. Futhermore, I’m not really convinced that it is creatively interesting to claim a colour as street art, as a ‘tag’. That can be left up to the artist, I suppose, but to display it in such an over-the-top way, whilst going over so many other artists’ works, seems a little extreme.

I am a long-time fan of Doyle’s Blender Studios and his passion for street art. I know it’s not easy, especially in a world that blends over into graffiti, to stick your neck out. Graffiti writers can be both the most radical and most conservative people there are. And human beings don’t like change. But why does the council not create a diverse, educated group of people who can help advise on such matters? Curators, street artists, art critics, graffiti writers,  artists? It worries me that the consultation seems to have been between the council, RMIT and a street artist, or perhaps a few of these. What about architectural historians? In the future, will they not be studying street art as a phenomenon of the twenty-first century?

It’s great that the City of Melbourne and its Lord Mayor and a large institution such as RMIT are not longer disinterested in street art, nor fighting it, nor removing it, or covering it up with grey paint. I’m just not convinced that covering it with any colour, whatever its artistically personal significance, is the right way forward.

I have just returned from South Fremantle where I gave a lecture, opened an exhibition and gave a floortalk as part of Artitja Fine Art‘s exhibition ‘Exploring Colour‘ (view pics from the opening night on Facebook).

I also did an interview with Perth’s community radio station, the excellent RTR FM, which they put on their website as a podcast.

Below is my catalogue essay for the show. This is an extension of a lecture written by Susan McCulloch and myself, as part of our McCulloch & McCulloch lecture series on Indigenous art. It forms part of ongoing research into the many facets of Indigenous Australian art. Thank you to Susan for her contributions.

                            Colour in Aboriginal Art

‘Try to limit Warlpiri colours and you’re in trouble…look we’ve got these colours all around us everywhere…these are the colours of our world, you know.’ 
Paddy Japaljarri Stewart, senior artist, Yuendumu[i]
‘As the new school has established itself and the painters have refined and entrenched their techniques, the colours and their combinings have only gained in force. It has become more and more apparent that the pulse and sweep of the paintings are what bring the viewers in, and bring them nearer contact with the inner reaches of the traditional world.’ 
Nicolas Rothwell[ii]
Colour, as one of the main principles of art, holds a significant place within contemporary art in particular. Rothko was concerned with colour as a transcendental element, while Picasso devoted an entire three-year series to the colours blue and blue-green. Kandinsky, like the Symbolists, believed in the synaesthesic effect of colour and wrote about its relation to music. In his book Concerning the Spiritual in Art he “discussed the associative properties of specific colours and the analogies between certain hues and the sounds of musical instruments.” [iii]

Colour has, over the last 10 years, also become a huge factor in contemporary Aboriginal art. Early Papunya painters stuck to the ‘natural’ palette of ochre: browns, white, reds, oranges, yellows, black, and many still do today, although there is also often a flash of deep violet or an occasional ice blue and white palette in these artists’ work.

Ochre was the world’s first paint, and is central to Australia’s longest continuous tradition; the use and trade of ochre. Ochre sites are common throughout Australia. However, certain types are more valued than others in mythology. Classification of colour is not only a reflection of nature but according to traditional practice can represent social structures. In the Tiwi Islands the four moieties are all given a colour – red, black, white, and yellow.
In the desert, certain colours are associated with particular Dreaming stories. For example, in the myth of a creation bird ancestor, the seeds eaten may be black, yellow and so forth. This is represented in body paint, and again when painting that particular story on canvas. Colour is also associated with sites and ceremonies in which certain colours represent sites. Initiation is often concerned with red, white clay used for mourning ceremonies, and charcoal used in outline. As in the Tiwi Islands, different colours also ‘belong’ to different subsections or classifications – for example black and white for Emu dreaming people: Jampjinpa/Nampijinpa and Jangala/Nangala, and Yellow Snake dreaming of the Jakamarra/Nakamarra, Jupurrula/Napurrula subsections.

On a visit to Maningrida, the late Koori artist Lin Onus sensed a great deal of excitement amongst the artists over the discovery of new colours. In the 1980s, a green, hitherto unseen, had appeared in some works.’ My understanding in conversations with George Garrawun, who seemed to pioneer the use of green, was that green was a ‘nothing’ colour,’ said Onus. ‘Therefore he was able to experiment with imagery and concepts that would ordinarily fall outside his prescribed moiety (clan) entitlements.’ Les Midikuria and his colleagues at Gotjan Jiny Jirra (Cadell Outstation) showed even greater innovation with colours, including pinks, browns, greens and occasional mauves. Onus also asked Jack Wunuwun about the use of a brilliant orange which had not seen before. ‘He told me the colour was “airstrip” and mined from a small deposit of ochre at the southern end of the Maningrida tarmac.’ All pigments, however colourful, continue to be derived from the land. [iv]

But does the wild exuberant colour seen in more recent Aboriginal painting have the same amount of traditional significance or meaning as ochre? In the seminal book and exhibition of the same name, Art on a String: Aboriginal Threaded Objects from the Central Desert and Arnhem Land, curators and writers Louise Hamby and Diana Young analyse the colours used in Aboriginal jewellery. ‘Colour has an ability to change things.’ they write. ‘Bright colour makes things powerful and dynamic… fat from animals and use of ochres changes the skin colour of people. When applied to canvas or seed beads this is linked to the central concept of transformation in Aboriginal people’s religion. That ancestors could change ‘skins’ during their time walking the earth is indicative of their power. A series of colours therefore may relate to the same person or thing, or ancestor in a different time, place or incarnation.’[v]

The power of transformation, ability to change form and body shape is integral to the mythology of Aboriginal creation cultures. Donald Thomson noted the importance of red and shiny skin to mean power in Arnhem Land with the term marr. Wood is oiled and occasionally varnished to give lustre and reflection back to the viewer – a quality noted as significant to Aboriginal people from the top end and throughout desert regions by anthropologists for generations.

The great colourist painter Emily Kame Kngwarreye pushed the use of colour to extraordinary new dimensions in her luminous paintings of her home country of Utopia in glimmering shades of yellows, pinks, reds, greens, blues and deep purples. Her extraordinary ‘last series’, painted with a broad priming brush just two weeks before she died, reduced the canvas to vibrant, energetic minimalistic fluorescent strokes. Her use of colour brought about not just comparisons to the subtle play of colour and light in the work of Monet, but also to that of Abstract Expressionist artists such as Rothko and de Kooning. In part the comparison is not as far-fetched as it may seem; for these artists were influenced by Navajo sand paintings, and Kngwarreye came out of a long tradition of ceremonial ground as well as body painting. The vibrant purple, pink and yellow wildflowers of Utopia were crushed to add bursts of colour to the ochre palette of such ground paintings. Kngwarreye also held knowledge of a closely guarded pink ochre site, like Queenie McKenzie of Warmun who applied her canvases with her signature pink; she covered her tracks when gathering this pink ochre, so that it remained for her use alone. So the vibrant pinks, yellows and violets of the Utopia palette are therefore as ‘traditional’ as the earth tone palette of the ochre painters of Arnhem Land and the Kimberley.

The custom of priming the canvas with black also assists in giving canvases added depth and power of colour. In the APY Lands blue represents the colour of waterholes reflecting the sky and also Christianity, purple and pinks together are much admired colours – associated with sunsets and also wildflowers. Red, notes Hanby, demonstrates ancestral power, but may also express dangerous or unstable states – or one where change is imminent. Also bright red is attractive and seems to come forward spatially.[vi] Red is a hugely predominant colour in the work of the APY artists. Also the countryside and its myriad changes are reflected in art: greens appear in works often following periods of rain when the desert bursts into bloom. Additionally, the freedom afforded artists with the new variety of colour offered by acrylic paint is a positive thing that should be celebrated. All Aboriginal artists work with the aim of getting the best quality work produced: Arnhem Land painters continue to paint in ochre on bark, for the majority, because it still works the best for their needs. Their imagery and the fineness of the rarrk, for example, the cross-hatching technique made famous by artists such as Maningrida’s John Mawurndjul and those before him, works best using a fine stick or paintbrush, in ochre on bark. Working in acrylic on canvas just does not have the same impact. The same could be said for the Kimberley schools of painters, many of whom continue to dig, grind and paint with ochre, as their ancestors have done for thousands of years, which comes in a surprising variety of colour and tones. The colour and texture of the ochre pleases them in both its tactility and tonal qualities.

‘Colour is what sets apart the paintings of the past decade from the APY realm, and that realm is in truth a landscape of colour: the brick-red of the rocks at dawn, the bright green of desert oaks in storm season, the grey of tree trunks burned to ash by fire. The late-dawning acrylic era brought those blazing hues to canvas. It is hard not to trace the strong appeal, and immediate success, of the art of the APY lands to this distinctive feature, this “colour rhythm”. Nicolas Rothwell[vii]            

For the desert painters, particularly those from Yuendumu, Utopia, Papunya, and the APY Lands, the bright colours afforded by acrylic paint have given their artistic practice a joyous burst of life. They are able to render their landscape in evocative, emotional depictions of dreaming stories, titles deeds to country, song cycles, mythology and law, in a palette ranging from bright and sunny to moody and dark, through paint on canvas. Acrylic paint dries quickly, almost instantly in the desert sun, and artists are able to paint comfortably, sitting outside in small groups of friends and family, singing, gossiping, philosophising, remembering their childhood and parents and grandparents, of days gone by, time spent hunting and foraging for the sweet bush tucker, travelling through remarkable lands filled with tales of animal men and women, giants, spirits and other mystical beings.

Kukula McDonald captures the flash of yellow on her beloved totemic black cockatoos, the vibrant burst of orange and pink of a sunset over the MacDonell Ranges, the veridian green of Eucalypts, the cobalt blue of a Papunya sky.

The subtle purples, pinks, yellows and oranges, highlighted by white dotted outlines, snake across the canvas in meandering lines depicting the epic Two Sisters Travelling Story in the work of Elaine Lane Warnatjura, from Papulankutja.

Contemporary Papunya Tjupi artists embrace colours including mauves, pinks and cool apple greens, as seen in the work of Candy Nakamarra, and deep purples and blues, as seen in Martha Macdonald Napaltjarri’s work, as well as the earthy palette of their forebears.

Utopia artists continue the work of their predecessors, the great colourists Emily Kame Kngwarreye and Minnie Pwerle, by expressing their love for and knowledge of country in vibrant bursts of colour and rich, deep palettes. Minnie Pwerle’s granddaughter, Charmaine Pwerle, continues to paint her grandmother’s body paint designs in a rich and varied palette.

The artists from the APY Lands, such as Tjala Arts, in Amata, South Australia, have now become famous for their wonderful work with a closely aligned palette of red, orange and yellow, a particular favourite of the formidably prodigious Ken clan.

And one of the most significant, senior APY artists, Kunmanara Palpatja, depicts his sacred inherited Wanampi mythology in the most beautiful range of pinks, violets and yellows, comprising all the light and shade inherent in the tale, the beauty and violence of the creation stories indicated in every brushstroke loaded with colour. The work of the artists of Tjala is becoming increasingly colourful.

Aboriginal art is as much about re-birth as it is about continuing tradition: the adaptability of Aboriginal culture, along with the strength of its traditions, is the reason Aboriginal people have survived, when they were repeatedly pronounced doomed for extinction. Art is the most powerful reflection of human society that we have. The variety of the use of colour in Aboriginal art is an assertion of both their traditions and adaptability. The natural awareness these artists display as colourists of the highest level is becoming increasingly recognised. It is our great fortune that we have the opportunity to view the works of these artists; these great artists of colour.

[i] Paddy Japaljarri Stewart to Geraldine Tyson, assistant art co-ordinator, Warlukurlangu Artists, interview with Susan McCulloch, April 1996, in Susan McCulloch & Emily McCulloch Childs, McCulloch’s Contemporary Aboriginal Art: The complete guide, McCulloch & McCulloch, 2008.

[ii] Nicolas Rothwell, Painting the song of the land, The Australian, 29 October 2009.

[iii] Vivian Endicott Barnett, Kandinsky: A selection from The Solomon R.Guggenheim Museum and The Hilla von Rebay Foundation, AGNSW and touring, 1982, p.10.

[iv] Susan McCulloch & Emily McCulloch Childs, McCulloch’s Contemporary Aboriginal Art: The complete guide, McCulloch & McCulloch, 2008.

[v]  Louise Hamby and Diana Young, Art on a String: Aboriginal Threaded Objects from the Central Desert and Arnhem Land, Object – Australian Centre for Craft and Design Melbourne Museum and touring, 2001.

[vi] ibid.

[vii] Nicolas Rothwell, Painting the song of the land, The Australian, 29 October 2009.

© Emily McCulloch Childs & Susan McCulloch 2012

Review for ArtsHub

Tjala Arts paintings with Yarrenyty Arltere Artists sculptures, front

The most important event on the art calendar of Indigenous art from Central Australia and the west, this year’s annual showcase exhibition in Alice Springs showed that while the market may be slowing somewhat, the artists most certainly are not.
In an exhibition of greater overall quality than last year’s, Desert Mob this year ticked most of the boxes that it is known for: it showed strong, vibrant works by major artists, new works by emerging artists of great talent, and works for all levels and types of art lovers, from the most knowledgeable, sophisticated collector, to the local Alice Springs public and overseas tourists who may be viewing Aboriginal art for the first time.
The art centres whose work particularly stood out included, once again, the powerhouse, sophisticated painting movement from the APY lands: the communities in northern South Australia of Ernabella, Amata, Fregon, Indulkana, Mimili, and their neighbours further west: the art centres Ninuku Arts, Kayili Artists, Tjungu Palya, and Warakurna Artists. From this region, only Papulankutja Artists, from Blackstone, and Tjarlirli Arts, failed to excite, compared with previous years.
Stephen Williamson, Araluen’s curator, obviously put a great deal of thought into the hang of this show. It is not an easy job: almost 300 works fill the three gallery spaces, and as anyone who has hung an exhibition of bold, powerful Indigenous art will know: the works can ‘fight’ one another, competing with colour and line of form, so that the hang is not cohesive.

Tjala Arts, left, Yarrenyty Arltere Artists, centre

Williamson’s hang was clever, perhaps too clever for the art centres whose work he broke up: hanging a painting around a corner if it didn’t work with the other works. But the effect: the wall of sublime paintings from Tjungu Palya, bookended by works of similar quality from the West Australian art centre Martumili, hung imaginatively in a pattern on one wall, then in a neat line on the next, as one example, was simply stunning. Like last year’s wall of Tjala Arts paintings with Yarrenyty Artlere soft sculptures placed in front: these little elements of the exhibition, almost like works of installation art in themselves, delight the viewer.
And yet there were some drawbacks: Desert Mob is largely a buyer’s exhibition; collectors, dealers and fans come from all over Australia (or the world – I was next in line to a couple from Seattle who have recently fallen hard for Aboriginal art) to queue to buy great art at affordable prices, and the hang didn’t allow for ease of locating works, but rather how well the works sat together. I don’t mind this as an art viewer, but collectors and the art centres may feel differently (reports show, however, that sales were strong). There was also some interruption to sculptural concepts: Johnny Young’s Emu and Chicks sculptural set had its artist’s intentions disturbed by separating the mother emu from her chicks, for example. A brilliantly witty carved and painted road train by Billy Kenda was placed down so low as to almost get lost in the show.

Ben Holland, Tarrulka, 2012, acrylic on canvas, 76 x 76 cm. Warakurna Artists

Yet the overall effect was, for the most part, wonderful. It is gratifying to see such thoughtful curatorial work happening in Indigenous art.
As for the art itself: there were, as always, quite a few works of brilliance. The most exemplary were paintings by NATSIAA winner Dickie Minyintiri, Niningka Lewis and Pantjiti Lionel from Ernabella, the collector’s favourite, the late Ben Holland and a truly sublime Tommy Mitchell from Warakurna, as well as a decent work by Carol Golding, an artist who I think is one of Australia’s greatest painters. This art centre also exhibited a collaborative triptych by Ian Newberry and Daphne Larry depicting the events of the Circus Waters massacre, an important historical work.
Tjungu Palya’s new generation of painters: Teresa Baker, Kani Baker, Anyupa Stevens, Sallyanne Roberts and Helen Curtis are as talented as their famous artist parents and grandparents. Stevens, Roberts and Curtis’s paintings here were all particularly extraordinary and exciting: moving, powerful, daring and strong works.

Iwana Ken, Kaltjiti Arts, left, Ninuku Arts, right

Iwana Ken’s works on paper, from Kaltjiti Arts and Crafts, were wonderful renderings of events: family groups travelling between ancestral sites, in the unusual medium of graphite, ink and gouache.
From Iwantja, Whiskey Tjakangku, Tiger Yaltangki, Tolly Yalatangki and Kunmanara Braney all showed good work.
The entries from Kayili Artists consisted purely of limited edition woodblock prints; striking, graphic depictions of Tingari, Wati Kutjara (Two Men dreaming) and other important mytho-law depictions by major artists Fred Ward, Ngipi Ward and the late Jackie Kultuninytja Giles.
From Mimili Maku Arts, the major painter Milatjari Pumani, with her transcendent fields, continues to delight, as does Betty Pumani.
Ninuku Arts have a star in the making with Sandy Brumby, who was holding his solo exhibition nearby at Raft Artspace. He has a unique style, an unusual, varying palette, a genius for comprehending the spacial concepts of painting, and a profound spiritual quality that creeps up on the viewer, entrancing and bewitching. Their Angampa Martin painting was also notable.
The entries from Tjala Arts were not as overwhelming as last year’s, but Wawiriya Burton, Ruby Williamson and Ray Ken’s paintings were all solid works, the Burton particularly joyous, and the Barney Wangin painting of Punu, signifying the importance of trees to Pitjantjatjara men, with its combination of imagery and text, was an experimental and fascinating work.
The shift is still continuing from the once top art centres to the new ones coming up, and again it is most apparent at Desert Mob. Papunya Tula Artists and Warlayirti Artists (Balgo), once royalty, were weaker overall than the APY lands centres. A single majestic Eubena Nampitjin, heartbreaking in its beauty, shone from up high on a wall, but its price was to match, and while this senior artist’s work was once fought over, she now has many others to compete with.

Warlayirti Artists (left)

Martumili Artists’ work by Nora Wompi and Jakayu Biljabu, Bugai Whyoulter and Nora Nungabar, for example, were easily as impressive. The Nora Wompi in particular stood out as a particularly serenely beautiful, significant work.

Martumili Artists

Papunya Tula Artists again entered smaller, cheaper priced works by top artists such as Ningura Napurrula, Warlimpirrnga Tjapaltjarri, Johnny Yungut Tjupurrula, Yukultji Napangati and George Tjungurrayi, but they were not particularly exciting.
The punu (wood carving) from Maruku Arts and Crafts, of Mutitjulu, was again exemplary and clever, as was the tjanpi (weavings) of the Tjanpi Desert Weavers. The local art centres, some based in Alice Springs town camps, Tangentyere Artists, Yarrenyty Arltere Artists, Ngurratjuta Iltja Ntjarra Art Centre, Mwerre Anthurre Artists (Bindi Inc.) and the prison artists Greenbush Art Group, all continue to grow and shine.
One of the most common criticisms of Aboriginal art one hears – and that I heard this year, from a fan of Aboriginal art who is only part way along the road of Indigenous art knowledge – is about the lack of innovation in Aboriginal art, and of what he saw as a lack of innovation in this exhibition. I have several answers to this. Firstly, a foundational element that everyone should know about Indigenous law: you get what you are given. One inherits one’s designs from parent or grandparent; they are in part like title deeds to land. Designs are related to the creation of that land, through the totemic ancestors who shaped it, and whose life force is embedded in that country and kept living through ceremony, in which the designs are used. There is the concept of inspiration in Aboriginal art, many artists do come up with their own way to depict a tjukurrpa design, but often this becomes their central trope in their art.

Yarrenyty Arltere Artists, front, Tjala Arts, left

Consider the 40-year exploration of the Tingari line and square design by the Pintupi op artist George Tjungurrayi, who is now, as an older man, painting his designs usually seen on massive canvases on a smaller scale. For me, Tjungurrayi’s work never gets tired. His best work always excites me, even though I may have seen many like it before. And there are many like him. I see no difference between Tjungurrayi and Western artists such as Bridget Riley or Robert Hunter, artists who have devoted a lifetime to exploring a thematic concept. There is nothing wrong with this; it is no different from a scientist who devotes their life to studying one species of plant or animal whose research can actually reveal much about the larger world.

Mwerre Anthurre Artists (Bindi Inc.)

Then there are artists who suddenly and dramatically change their style, either for the better or for the worse. I may be missing something, but I fail to see a lack of innovation in Aboriginal art: every year Desert Mob has several new and exciting art innovations for me to marvel at.

Maruku Arts & Crafts

Often, I find experimentation happens most in 3D form. This year the wonderful painted wooden kettle from Niningka Lewis, working here through Maruku Arts and Crafts; the painted birdhouses by Kukula McDonald and Jane Mervin from Mwerre Anthurre Artists; the magnificent wire and wool kangaroo from Edwin Ward of the prison artists of Greenbush Art Group; the move into wire weaving of emus by the important sculptor from Titjikala, Johnny Young; the new directions in Ernabella pottery, where their experimentation has taken them into brave new works in black or simple white ceramics of organic forms, and a new gentler palette leading to increasing levels of sophistication, were all examples of wonderful innovation. It is always exciting to see Desert Mob and what new and interesting works these diverse artists have come up with.

Desert Mob 2012
Araluen Art Centre, Alice Springs
Until October 21

The most senior male artist at Tjala Arts, Amata, South Australia, passed away recently. Tjala Arts asked us to contribute a short essay on this important artist to be read at his funeral and included in an accompanying booklet.

Our respects go to this great artist, his family, friends and art centre.

The painterley heritage of Kunmanara Palpatja: A Tribute

A respected carver of punu for many decades, since Kunmanara began painting in 2004 at the age of around 83 his distinctive canvases have been hailed as amongst the greats of contemporary Australian painting. Notable for luscious colour and looseness of design, characteristically Kunmanara’s works feature soft pinks, reds and yellows that contrast with deeper colours such as rich midnight blues and black. White was used often as highlighting colour, working with the base colour to create dotted stipples that play across the canvas, while hints of deep red, greens, magenta and blues provide depth and outline.

Kunmanara’s main painting theme was that of the ancient Wanampi story of the mythical water or rainbow snake that formed the country of his birthplace near the Piltati rockhole. Sometimes he also told a simpler story (especially in earlier paintings) – that of bush food. Perhaps in these Mai Tjuta (Plenty Food) works he was recalling a time of plenty, before the devastation to the Australian environment by farming, mining, and introduced species such as feral cats and camels that have impacted so greatly on the native wildlife and flora.

In their bold painterly quality and seemingly free design Kunmanara’s paintings may appear as figurative abstracts. And so, at one level and in the western context, they are. Yet inherent in each work, underlying the layers of glowing colour and curvilinear shapes, are the ancient stories, recorded in these works as they had been by Kunmanara’s ancestors for tens of thousands of years in designs incised on rock faces and sacred men’s objects. It is this extraordinary melding of ancient knowledge and contemporary medium, handled with such a joyous confidence, that gives Kunmanara’s paintings both a strong visual aesthetic and a powerful cultural integrity.

These glorious late artistic outpourings of a long, productive and creative life have become woven into the cultural fabric of this country. They will ensure that Kunmanara’s heritage will live on to inform and inspire future generations.

Susan McCulloch and Emily McCulloch Childs
May 2012

Posted 17th May 2012 by Emily McCulloch Childs

The annual display of the Desart art centres, Desert Mob continues to retain its importance on the annual indigenous art calendar. Whilst the NATSIAAs may have lost some of their lustre this year, with a notable lack in regular attendees and many artists not entering the award, Desert Mob continues along in its inimitable way. This year the showcase was under the directorship of new curator Stephen Williamson, with other new staff also providing a fresh feel and creating a thoughtful hang at the Araluen Arts Centre in Alice Springs. The most notable paintings in the exhibition were again by the vibrant painters of the APY Lands: Tjala Arts from Amata, Warakurna Artists, Ernabella Artists, Tjungu Palya and Ninuku Arts, as well as two jewels from the resurging Martu people of Newman, Western Australia, depictions of salt lake country by two artists who work side-by-side and who inspired one another to create these works, Jakayu Biljaku and Yikartu Bumba.
What has always intrigued me about Desert Mob is that it has an unusual selection process. The art centres choose the work they want to display and it gets hung, no questions asked. I quite like this egalitarian process, so different to the constant selection and refining process of the Telstras, but sometimes I really wonder what some of the art centre managers had in mind when selecting their works. I know that artists from Warlukurlangu, home to the genius of the late Paddy Japaljarri Sims and to Paddy Japaljarri Stewart and Shorty Jangala Robertson, Tjarlirli, Mimili Maku (after all, we saw their stunning display only for the first time here last year), Kaltjiti, Papulankutja and Papunya Tjupi can paint, because I’ve seen brilliant paintings by artists from all these art centres in exhibition. I know these art centres all have dedicated, personable, hard-working and highly professional managers. But their Desert Mob 2011 entries were disappointing. I am a strong supporter of these art centres in particular, and would like to see better work from them represented at this exhibition, considering that it is now probably the most important showcase on the annual Indigenous arts calendar. From Mimili Maku, which last year was, along with Ernabella Arts, probably the stand-out entry, only one masterpiece by the brilliant painter Milatjari Pumani stood out.

A noticeable change this year is that of the collecting audience, who is becoming increasingly savvy. Katjarra Butler and Esther Giles, important artists from Tjarlirli, had mediocre work entered, which hasn’t sold. Of the Kaltjiti works, only the always brilliant Tali Tali Pompey stood out. And it was the only work that sold. And nothing sold from Papulankutja. I don’t think that the market is a clear indicator of artistic credibility, I know only too well of works that I love and very few people understand, or would buy, often one may be ahead of their time in that respect. But in this year’s Desert Mob, I was impressed with the buying skills of the public. They honed in on the special works. So what was special?

In the painting medium, the works that struck me were by Bindi Inc. Mwerre Anthurre Artists’ Billy Benn Perrurle, Lance James and Kukula McDonald, Warakurna Artists’ Rachel Jennings, Carol Golding, Tjaparti Bates, Tommy Mitchell, Myra Cook and Tjunka Lewis were all stunning.

From Ernabella, Charlene Thomson’s whimsical portrait of a white cockatoo against a beautiful, ‘APY style’ background was complemented with intriguing works by the senior artist Tjunkaya Tapaya and by Tjariya Stanley.  However I found the other works from this more recently impressive art centre, including the canvas by this year’s NATSIAA winner Dickie Minyintiri, to be lacking. Ninuku’s Harry Tjutjuna, Molly Nampitjin Miller, Samuel Miller, Sandy Brumby, and Nyanu Watson, a charming work reminiscent of Melbourne printmaker Rona Green‘s animals with attitude, were all strong, and from Tjungu Palya, a beautiful large Nellie Stewart was highly impressive.

From Balgo (Warlayirti Artists), Nora Wompi and Sarah Daniels had decent entries, and how wonderful it was to see again the bright, bold, colourful and traditional women’s paintings from Lajamanu (Warnayaka Art Centre) by Lily Nungurrayi Hargraves and Rosie Napurrurla Tasman: joyful bursts of energy and the strong spirituality of women’s ceremony hanging on the back wall.
Betty Muffler’s installation of a tjanpi basket and painting from Iwantja was a delight, as was a large collaborative work by Alec Baker, Peter Mungkuri and Whiskey Tjukangu. As always, Tiger Palpatja, Sylvia Ken and Tjunkara Ken from Tjala stood out as masterworks, and the painting Ngayuku Mamaku Ngura by healer Wawiriya Burton was absolutely sublime. The collaboration between the young genius Alison Riley and Katanari Tjilya was a glorious, joyful, lyrical work. What impressed me most about the Tjala display was the thought that had gone into it, the art centre manager had obviously curated it as a mini-exhibition, the paintings were mostly of high quality and also worked together nicely. I am not entirely sure if they were all from this year, as is the criteria for Desert Mob, but they were beautiful to look at nonetheless.

Desert Mob has always been strong in three-dimensional work. Araluen were an early supporter of this field, in many ways as important as painting, comprising as it does traditional media such as artifacts, wood carving and weaving, and often it tends to give a very direct representation of indigenous culture. Ceramics, for example, have long been included and collected by Araluen and more recently so have the quirky 3D works from around the town camps of Alice Springs.

This year, the three-dimensional work was as good as, if not better than, many of the paintings. From the ceramics of Ernabella and Hermannsburg (naïve and charming depictions of country singer visitors to Hermannsburg, including John Williamson, Archie Roach and Buddy Williams), to the woven animals from Tennant Creek, incredible birds made by Rhonda Sharpe, Dulcie Sharpe and Blanche Ebatarinja from recycled woollen blankets and feathers from the ‘life changing’ grass-roots art enterprise Yarrenyty Arltere at Larapinta Valley Town Camp.

The wonderful use of an old car part painted to become a whimsical and intriguing artwork by Margaret Boko from Tangentyere Artists and the metal sculptures of the Greenbush Art Group were highly appealing.
The Tjanpi Weavers were, as always, unusual, fun and impressive, and continue to head in new directions with weavings such as the unique and culturally significant community wall pieces by Wipara Jinny and Iwayi Wikiliri.
The home of punu (the important practice of wood carving), Maruku Arts, displayed some classic boomerangs, but I was disappointed to see their walka boards (painted and poker worked wooden boards), such a lovely surprise to me in previous years, and such an important historical bridge between the long-time Pitjantjatjara practice of carving and into the new realm of painting on canvas, have now lost their appeal as a result of a new, unattractive palette.

Wonderfully personable raffia-woven camels and bush hen families, from Julalikari Arts in Tennant Creek, completed the delightful display of three-dimensional art.
The once most prestigious of the desert art centres, Papunya Tula Artists Pty Ltd, changed tack this year, perhaps a result of last year’s problem of returned purchase labels. The buying system at Desert Mob has always been problematic, and the current system, wherein buyers pull tags off paintings they wish to buy, which can then be stuck back on, although preferable to the previous ‘buy before you see’ queuing system, still presents issues. Perhaps Araluen should attempt to impose some sort of time limit on the labels, so that others may purchase works if the original tag holder puts the tag back. This year, Papunya Tula had small works by major and mid-level artists, which provided less of a feast for the eye as the usual more important larger works, but resulted in three-quarters of the works selling, although for far less than bigger works.

One work I was particularly pleased to see was a Gloria Petyarre work entered by the Ngurratjuta Iltja Ntjara (Many Hands) Art Centre, an Alice Springs art centre. Utopia is a large place, and the Artists of Ampilawatja, who are shown in Desert Mob, come from different country and have little to do with artists such as the famous Pwerle sisters or Petyarre sisters, who paint independently and manage their own careers, like non-Indigenous artists do.  Whilst it was by no means her best work, to see Petyarre’s Bush Medicine hanging in Desert Mob was a proud moment.
Overall, Desert Mob 2011 is well worth a visit to anyone interested in desert art, to see the beauty and perfection as much as the chaos and mistakes, which in itself encompasses what I love about Australia’s vibrant Indigenous art from this vast area we know as ‘the desert’.

One of my favourite events on the annual art calendar, the Telstra National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Award, abbreviated to the NATSIAAs or the Telstras for those in the industry, is an unusual and special event, occasionally punctuated by scandal, controversy, or, more disappointingly, sometimes fairly mundane winning works.
Once the domain of the indigenous artists themselves, the brainchild of former Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory Indigenous art curator Margie West, the Awards were the first event of their kind. They were of the people, for the people.

In later years, the NATSIAA co-incided with the Darwin Festival. Visual art by day flowed into nights of dancing to the wonderful Letterstick Band and Saltwater Band on Darwin’s great Esplanade. It was one of the few times in my life when I have been swept up by masses of joyous, dancing Indigenous bodies, each one singing along to every word of the songs. Years before any of my friends in the south had heard of ‘the blind Aboriginal singer’ (the now-famous Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu, of Saltwater Band), I watched him and his band mates sing and dance in Darwin and felt a kind of unique ecstasy. What we never realise at the time is how lucky we are; for these moments are fleeting. I thought this would last. The Darwin Festival opening Santos Concert is no longer held on the Esplanade; I was there the year there was a tragedy, perhaps inevitable with an event held close to a cliff face, and the singing and dancing suddenly turned into anger and disappointment as the concert abruptly ended, and when seconds ago I was swept up in joy, now I was being swept up into an almost riot, with policemen, steadfastly ignoring one man’s cries of ‘don’t worry about him, he’ll still be dead tomorrow. We’ll sing for him tomorrow, tonight, we are alive, and we need music!’, swooping on Festival goers and putting them into the back of paddy wagons, to disperse the crowd before things turned too ugly. (Sadly, nothing exists on YouTube of this time, the closest is a 2007 performance of Saltwater Band at the Telstra Art Award).

These days, the Santos Concert is held in the fort-like concrete Amphitheatre in the beautiful Botanic Gardens. And the Telstras have become increasingly slick. This year they have been reduced to a clean selection of just 63 works, displayed in one floor area of MAGNT, rather than the usual two. This decision, says new MAGNT Director Pierre Arpin, was to not give the impression that any of the art is more or less significant. Just to be selected into the Telstras is an important recognition of an artist’s career, and much griping has gone on about the selection process, favouring as it does the government-funded art centres and those private galleries deemed to be ‘acceptable’. This year, for example, there is little work from such ‘outsider’ art communities, such as Utopia.

This year, under the helm of new curator Dr. Christiane Keller, with a selection and judging panel that included NGV‘s Judith Ryan, artist and professor, and previous Telstra Award winner, Danie Mellor, and indigenous artist and curator at AGSA Nici Cumpston, the NATSIAAs are slicker than ever.

The first thing one notices is a strong return to painting and sculpture, the two foundations of Indigenous art, and a break in the trend of new media, photography and more cutting-edge work by artists living in or near cities, which has been a growing trend in the Telstras for the last few years. Perhaps sensing the lack of this work, MAGNT are holding film screenings of Indigenous new media works this weekend.

There are only two new media works in the exhibition itself, and the contemporary younger artists are thin on the ground this year. Notable was a work by Kamilaroi artist Archie Moore, whose entry is one of the tiniest, most powerful artworks I have ever encountered, a beautifully made tiny Bible opened to a Church growing from its centre, titled On a mission from God, measuring a mere 3.5 x 3.5 x 4 cm. It somehow manages to be both chilling and beautiful, a reminder of some of the blatantly brutal events of colonisation. A painting by the talented Nyoongar artist Christopher Pease, entitled Bling, is a brief reminder of the Telstras of the previous years. A pixellated image of a ‘strong individual who wears a breast plate’, it maintains the emphasis on the important questions about identity and colonisation. The only film is not from Melbourne or Sydney, but is by David Lans, a Kukatja artist from Balgo, created as part of the Motika project by Warlayirti Artists.

But it is the paintings that really dominate this year’s awards. I revelled in the sublime canvases of colour from the now powerhouse APY Lands communities of Ernabella, Amata and Nyapari in particular (with no sign of the major new APY art centre Mimili Maku or of Kaltjiti, Papulankutja or Warburton art centres), as well as the consistently sophisticated work from Balgo. The stand-out paintings were by Tjala Arts’ Alison Riley, Tiger Palpatja and Hector Burton, and the overall Telstra Award winner from Ernabella Arts, the brilliant and unique painter, 96 year old Dickie Minyintiri. These were joined by Warakurna Artist’s Carol Golding and Tjaparti Bates, Tjunga Palya’s Ginger Wikilyiri, Maringka Baker, the Ernabella elder, more recently working through Ninuku Arts, Harry Tjutjana, and Warlayirti Artists Nora Wompi and Eubena Nampitjin, whose works were all impossible to fault.

I was pleased to see that this year also features an extraordinary large number of stunning bark paintings, that originally famous and foundational medium of Australian art.

Buku-Larnggay Mulka Centre’s Gunybi Ganambarr, Nyapanyapa Yunupingu and Yumutjin Wunungmurra, Maningrida’s Ivan Namirrki, James Iyuna, Paul Nabulumo Namarinjimak, and Susan Marawarr,

Elcho Island’s Peter Datjing, the Bark Painting Award winner, Jilamara’s Raelene Kerinauia, and Injalak’s Glen Namundja: all of these were absolutely stunning examples of the best artists working at the highest proficiency in bark painting today. The use of the texture of the bark, worked to supurb effect by Kerinauia, the capacity to produce brilliant shimmer, particularly notable in the work of Ganumbarr and the fineness of the rarrk: few barks in this award can be faulted.

The curator has obviously thought carefully about the hang of the show: she has combined these barks with stunning sculpture and three-dimensional works: Gapuwiyak Culture and Arts’ Lucy Malirrimurruwuy Wanapuyngu’s delicate  Pandanus fibre, feather and string yams, Maningrida’s Lena Yarinkura’s delightful woven woman with dilly bag and Crusoe Kurddal’s distinctive white Mimih Spirit, 3D Wandjuk Marika Award winner, Elcho Island’s Gali Yalkarriwuy Gurruwiwi’s Baumbirr (Morning Star Pole), Tasmanian artist Vicki West’s intriguing Lura creature woven from kelp, New Media Award winner Ricardo Idagi’s masterful depiction of a story related to Eddie Mabo, Tail End Man, and Utopia artist Dinni Kunoth Kemarre’s clever and playful chess set.

Alongside these were impressive paintings by senior artists such as Tiwi’s Jean Baptiste Apuatimi and Timothy Cook and General Painting Award winner, Papunya Tula Artists’ Bobby West Tjupurrula. Plus quirky paintings by Iwantja’s Sadie Singer, Borroloola’s Thelma Dixon, and Tangentyere Artists’ Margaret Boko.

The sublime works on paper by Cairns-based, Torres Strait Islander artist Brian Robinson and Yirrkala’s Wukun Wanambi were more impressive than the work on paper (although he is a master printmaker) that won in that category, now 3 time MAGNT award winner Torres Strait Islander artist Dennis Nona.

Usually, with this award, the works I am disappointed in are those by artists of whom I have seen better work elsewhere. In this award, I can say that I only found disappointing the work by a handful, such as Johnny Yungut Tjupurrula, who can be a transcendent painter at times, as can Regina Wilson, but not in her lolly-pink work here. Molly Napurrula Tasman, as much as I am thrilled with the re-emergence of her troubled Lajamanu Art Centre, failed to excite. The lack of Kimberley works was also of concern: a single, rather mediocre canvas by the usually highly sophisticated and impressive Warmun Art Centre’s Patrick Mung Mung , and a work from Waringarri by Mercy Paymurra Fredericks their only representation.

As I left the Award, satisfied that these painters and sculptors were getting their due recognition, I passed a lovely work by the Pintupi op art master, George Tjungurrayi. For many years, George and his colleague Ronnie Tjampitjinpa have had their works hung in this award; neither has ever won it (although Ronnie’s younger brother Kenny Williams Tjampitjinpa won it in 2000, and their art centre, Papunya Tula Artists, has had others such as Makinti Napanangka win). The closest he has got is in 2010 when he received a Highly Commended at the Telstra. The Pintupi dominance in painting has now had to make room for the extraordinary painters of The Lands to their south. With the award being won by an artist from the APY Lands for the second year in the row, these artists’ chance to win this award may be over. The Telstras are reflecting the now leading position of the APY Lands painters, who ironically, for many decades did not produce works on canvas. Yet, as art lovers, their addition to a field already full to bursting with masterful painters is most welcome.

This year’s Desert Mob is fast becoming the new Telstras (the Telstra National Aboriginal And Torres Strait Islander Art Award, affectionately dubbed the ‘Telstras’ or NATSIAAs), with a slick, increasingly ‘curated’ look and more and more satellite exhibitions popping up in the growing number of sophisticated galleries around Alice Springs.

Celebrating its twentieth year, Desert Mob has been going for nearly as long as the NATSIAAs and the two events have long been essential for anyone with an interest in Aboriginal art. Added to the August/September annual frenzy of indigenous art activity is the new Cairns Indigenous Art Fair, which this year continued along in fine form, although perhaps with less of an impact than it had the initial year.

This was due mainly to the removal of the director-curated exhibition, this year held at the Cairns Regional Art Gallery. Last year, this was included in the Tanks Art Centre, the wonderful (if humid) setting for the Fair, to great effect. Former IMA director John Snelling curated a concise, fresh and strong exhibition that included Vernon Ah Kee’s toilet doors installation, a powerful statement on Australian racism, from the Sydney Biennale and fellow proppaNOW collective artist, the multi-talented Tony Albert’s entire studio. The effect of the combination of work from these Brisbane-based artists with traditional basket weaving and unique ceramic sculptures from Albert’s elder relatives from Cardwell, combined with the brightly coloured paintings and sculptures from Aurukun and the striking black and white prints of the now famous Torres Strait Islander artists was fantastically striking and invigorating. It showcased the wonderfully broad range and high standard of much of Queensland art.

The lack of this exhibition inside the Tanks was felt. Also too, was the slip in quality from formerly top-level artists. In recent years to the concern of followers of initiators such as the Lockhart River Art Centre, standards have dropped remarkably. The pressure placed on successful artists can be shown in the lack of quality in their work, in a mirroring of the situation in Western Desert art, where, as one art centre manager bemoaned to me recently, winning the Telstras (the industry’s nickname for the prestigious Telstra National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander National Art Award) often signals the end of an artist’s career.

What may result from a win can be pure tragedy: humbugging from extended relatives, too much quick, easy money, unscrupulous dealers preying on the artist, unscrupulous dealers accepting relatives painting work, the artist feeling obligated to keep up with demand for work and accepting relatives working on paintings, or the artist simply not wishing to work any longer because of all of these factors. The situation is comparable to anyone who finds fame too quickly, and cannot deal with it, yet is exacerbated due to the complex societal obligations inherent within Indigenous culture, and the pressure of poverty.

Artists such as Mornington Island’s Sally Gabori are still producing many works of varying quality. Former Lockhart stars Rosella Namok and Samantha Hobson continued to produce good works once leaving the art centre they had established and worked with those who initially fostered their career. The artists remaining at Lockhart, judging by their stands at the two CIAFs, are producing paintings of lesser quality.

And yet, what continues my interest in this art is its incredible phoenix-like ability. What keeps visitors to the Telstras and Desert Mob is to see the new art centres and artists emerge, as well as the elder stars continue to shine. Unlike much of Western art, staleness rarely exists across the broad sweep of indigenous art. Whilst it may occur within an art centre or community, there is also an ingenious ability for rebirth. Artists such as George Tjungurrayi and Ronnie Tjampitjinpa, for example, regularly lose their way, only to come back with powerhouse optical painting that would require many Western artists an army of studio assistants, not to mention tools including computers, to deliver.

What did deliver at CIAF this year, amongst a fairly dull range of symposiums and talks, was the premiere of the proppaNOW documentary. A slickly produced film with a DIG-esque introduction to the artists collective of seven (once eight, no mention was made of former member Andrea Fischer) of some of Brisbane’s most interesting artists as superhero cartoon characters was informative and lively, funny and at times, particularly when focusing on indigenous Noosa area artist Bianca Beetson, moving.

proppaNOW artists such as Richard Bell would do well to continue along this path of having well-made films and documentaries made on them and their careers, rather than merely shooting from the lip. Events such as CIAF would do well to continue to include these films in their programmes.

This year’s Desert Mob was another example of the ability for regeneration amongst Indigenous artists. Those few fortunate enough to either be closely involved with this art or to travel the remote outposts of this country have lauded the art from the NPY lands, the art centres that now number fourteen (with the exception of the non-Desart run Irrunytju Art Centre) from across the Ngaanyatjatjara, Pitjantjatjara and Yankunytjatjara people’s lands of South Australia, Northern Territory and Western Australia, for some time.

Yet recently there have been claims that the glory days of this art movement are over, and the work being produced now is not what it was. For a painting movement that only began in a concerted way post-2001, this must surely have been one of the quickest trajectories and subsequent crashes in artistic history.

The Desert Mob exhibition this year largely defies these statements, although evidence can be seen of art centres that are not producing the stunning visual work they once were.

The most outstanding works from the NPY lands in the exhibition included works from the Ernabella, Amata, Warakurna, Kaltjiti, Mutitjulu and Nyapari communities.

Stand-out pieces included a large Dickie Minyintiri painting from Ernabella Arts, a sublime exercise entitled Wati wilu-ku inma Tjukurpa. Consisting of a background of deep reds, ochre yellows and cobalt blues over which the artist has painted a batik-like decoration of white and pale yellow lines and shapes, concentric and wheel-shaped circles, leaf shapes and Matissian Arabesque forms. To use a palette consisting mainly of white is a challenge for any artist, and Minyintiri manages this with confidence and capability.

Several exciting new painters have emerged from Ernabella, showing that this community, once famous for its craft, contains some serious painting talent also. Pepai Carroll, the community’s former long-serving policeman, has only been painting for the past year. The husband of well-known fabric artist and potter Alison (Milyika) Carroll, he hails originally from Haasts Bluff, and paints his father’s Pintupi country, which lies further west. His painting entitled ‘Walungurru’ (Kintore) is of this Western desert area a fair distance from his Ernabella home. It showed a deep engagement with family history and stories told to the artist long ago, as a boy growing up in Haasts Bluff.

Other strong work from Ernabella included paintings by Gordon Inkatji and the always whimsical and bold Nura Rupert.

As the flocks of collectors and art dealers who come to Desert Mob know: every Desert Mob is important. For it is really only here that you see the latest developments in desert art. The new art centre that has flourished within the space of the past twelve months, the new artist that has just picked up a paintbrush, you cannot learn this all in Sydney, Melbourne or Perth. You must wait until the exhibitions come up later on this year, or the next, or the next.

If you want to know, go to Desert Mob. More so than Western art, Aboriginal art has the unique position of the ability to create vastly speeded meteoric career rises, due to the traditional practices of ceremonial painting. Decades of artistic, historical, mythological, botanical, geographical and cultural knowledge and practice are often hidden behind a canvas that may have been the first one that artist has produced.

This year, that new exciting art centre was undoubtably Mimili Maku. Artists in the northern South Australian Pitjantjatjara community of Mimili have been attempting to establish an arts centre since 1985. They have travelled to other communities and studied the techniques of batik and other craft, and later one, painting. They have also observed the techniques used to establish an art centre. Now, with a burst of energy, they have begun a painting project, through workshops with artist Wayne Eager, that is drawing comparisons from seasoned art dealers to the legendary outpouring of genius that was Emily Kame Kngwarreye. Like Kngwarreye’s early works, the paintings are sublime, sophisticated, authentically raw, and inexpensive. The mother and daughter Ngupulya Pumani and Milatjari Pumani are already the superstars of the centre, but there is other serious talent here too. The other Pumani, Betty, is equally talented. The delicate, feminine work of Tuppy Goodwin. The masculine colour line work of Willy Martin. The evocative use of rich reds and magenta by Mike Williams.

Like the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Award, Desert Mob is now a major art event with satellite private gallery exhibitions popping up around it. The stand-out show this year was in the newly located Raft Artspace, moved south from Darwin into a large warehouse in the outskirts of central Alice. The Mimili Maku works, sublime with their fine, shimmering dots, layers of abstracted imagery, warm reds, pinks and whites, and powerful cultural foundations were the bargain paintings of the year. Any art collector who was not present at this exhibition failed to pick up the best deal going in art in a long time. These works will come to be considered amongst the top echelon of Aboriginal fine art, to be seen only in our state and national galleries. Indeed, Judith Ryan, the NGV’s indigenous art curator, was in attendance to open the exhibition, which she did with a palpable amount of passion and joy.

Tiger Palpatja, who was represented by Tjala Arts at Amata but now works with Tjungu Palya, has been a consistently powerful painter for the past few years. His exploration of the Piltati myth, a major story of his region, continued in his Desert Mob painting: large and powerful, using his trademark hot and soft pinks to great effect. His work exists in the memory as a powerful memento from this exhibition: it symbolises all that is great and enduring about this art.