Uniting church in

President’s national ministers’ conference

29 June - 2 July 2017

Background paper

Title Deeds Ways in which Indigenous art defines land, law and ceremony

Hector Tjupuru Burton. Artist. Born near Pipalyatjara, South Australia, in 1937. Died Ernabella, February 27, aged 80.

From “The Australian” March 8th 2017

Skye O’Meara is the manager of the APY Art Centre Collective and former manager of . Kunmanara Tjupuru BURTON Hector Burton once told me that when the important men pass away, the wind becomes strong and the trees will twist and break in pain. He said that country grieves first. Last year, a raging storm marked the passing of APY leader Gordon Inkatji, with hail falling like a blan- ket of snow across the desert. In recent months the APY Lands were again faced with some of the most violent storms witnessed in more than 10 years. No one can re- member another time when there was so much rain. Sen- ior women whispered that his spirit might be leaving. Burton was right. Desert country mourned as he left. Burton spent his young life in the bush during the “walk around” days, walking with his parents between Warburton and Pukatja. As a boy, he came into Ernabella Mission during the famines where he learned to read and write in his first language, .

As a young man, he worked alongside his brothers and cousins fencing, shearing and labouring on the mission. Burton was particularly proud of building the Ernabella church, and his work for the church would become one of his two life passions (painting would come later).

To the many visitors who probed him with questions suggesting that his dedi- cated role within the church somehow diluted his commitment to culture, Bur- ton would smile and answer: “It’s the same thing.”

The church introduced him to his lifelong friend Paul Eckhart, who worked to- gether with Anangu to translate the Bible into Pitjatjantjara. Sharing a vora- cious appetite for knowledge, they became lifelong friends and shared a dog, Goldie, on the Lands for years. In his senior years Burton’s dogs preceded him at every community event, announcing his presence. There were sometimes as many as 20 clearing a path. He was a desert celebrity. Visiting politicians, mu- seum directors, art curators or football stars — all were moved by Burton’s gravitas.

He began painting in 2002, a brave decision given this new practice was still regarded with suspicion by many Anangu men at the time. Burton’s encour- agement drew in many other regional stars to the APY studios. His style was unique and his work potent from the start, the cultural punch palpable in every piece. This was Anangu Tjukurpa, Anangu law. During this period Burton be- came as interested in the business of art centres as he was in the craft.

Passionate about the potential power of the Aboriginal-owned model, Burton became known for motivating the directors and staff at his own art centre, Tjala Arts, as well as those across the region. In an industry fraught with glam- orous distractions and politics, Burton encouraged all involved to focus on home. He was convincing, and his vision contagious — Amata community and the APY Lands would become the whole world for many of us who worked with The Boss. Burton moved his studio into the Tjala Arts office where he would paint, and stay on to discuss business matters. He was an advocate for art centres and best-practice industry ethics, often sending carpetbaggers pack- ing to .

Burton worked alongside other Tjala Arts stars including Ray Ken, Mick Wiki- lyiri and Barney Wangin. Together, as they grew in confidence, they began to push and pull at the art centre model, testing what Arts was capable of. In 2011, Burton made another brave decision in curating his first exhibition: Ngayulu Witini Ngayuku Mamaku Tjukurpa , Ngayulu Witiniti Untjuku Tjukurpa. (I Hold my Fathers Story I Hold my Mother’s Story). Like many moments of beauty, it was born out of tragedy.

The death of 22-year-old Kunmanara Raymond, a popular football star in the community, left the young men in Amata reeling. Elders became nervous as the outpouring of grief quickly became the catalyst for conflict. Burton brought the young men from the camp together in the art centre. His vision was to create an exhibition to celebrate the life of Kunmanara Raymond. Collaborative works from each family of Amata community would pay tribute to the much-loved young man, and also serve to deal with the practical matter of the need for new football uniforms, as per cultural protocol.

Burton’s second show was also groundbreaking. Punu Nguru (From the Trees) was a response to what senior artists saw as cultural intrusion. At his en- couragement, artists took a break from painting their Tjukurpa, which was in- creasingly becoming the subject of prodding by anthropologists and well- intended art lovers. Everyone painted trees. I was one of several intrigued staff members who watched in awe as the studio became a rainforest. Burton laughed, promising to fill us in later. The exhibition marked a striking develop- ment in the realm of desert art.

Importantly, both shows were testament to his faith in the younger generations. Powerful catalogue statements described his position: “Our culture will grow stronger still”. Burton asserted that “the young fellas are the main ones, they are young tree branches with green leaves. We teach our young fellas through the family tree to understand and be at home with their dreamings and their lands.”

Burton was an innovator, evidenced by the now renowned Kulata Tjuta (Many Spears) project, which not only served to engage the next generation in the im- portant cultural tradition of woodcrafts and weaponry, but would also become an exciting new medium for storytelling. His focus and commitment to the younger generation only grew in his final years. And the sense of urgency with which he worked was unwavering. His book Nganampa Kampatjangka Unngu: Beneath the Canvas brought many of his industry friends together on a final project.

He constantly reminded us of our deadline: any time before his death. He did this with the endearing humour for which he was well known. And we laughed politely, increasingly desperate and anxious to meet his request. Burton received industry accolades, including the Red Ochre Award from the Australia Council, and will be remembered by his many paintings hung in insti- tutions and museums across Australia and abroad. His final works, ink on paper, remained the essence of what he had been painting for years yet were even more compelling in this pared back linear form.

While his spirit will live on in the projects he instigated, it will mostly live on in the young men and women on the APY Lands. At a time when little faith and respect exists for young people in desert communities, Burton’s dedication and love for this generation was a tangible force. One day they will smile remem- bering his humour and generosity. Today, though, Anangu young and old, and we non-indigenous visitors to their country, contend with the aftermath of the storms. The wind groaned, the tree branches broke and the rain flooded the Lands. Country was first to grieve.

Skye O’Meara is the manager of the APY Art Centre Collective and former manager of Tjala Arts.