NOTE TO USERS
This reproduction is the best copy available.
® UMI
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. BEYOND THE DREAMINGS: IDENTITY AND REPRESENTATION IN
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL URBAN ART
By
Sandra Maya Joss
Submitted to the
Faculty ofthe College of Arts and Sciences
of American University
in Partial Fulfillment of
the Requirements for the Degree
of Doctor of Philosophy
In
Anthropology
Chair:
Brett Williams
/ ~ ~4=::1~-<:.-e Dean the College of Arts and Sciences
2004
American University
Washington, D.C. 20016
AMERICAN UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. UMI Number: 3127796
INFORMATION TO USERS
The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. Broken or indistinct print, colored or poor quality illustrations and photographs, print bleed-through, substandard margins, and improper alignment can adversely affect reproduction. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if unauthorized copyright material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion.
® UMI
UMI Microform 3127796 Copyright 2004 by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.
ProQuest Information and Learning Company 300 North Zeeb Road P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml48106-1346
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. To Aboriginal Artists ofNew South Wales, Australia
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. BEYOND THE DREAMINGS: IDENTITY AND REPRESENTATION IN
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL URBAN ART
BY
Sandra Maya Joss
ABSTRACT
In the context of the socio-political relations of the art world, how do Australian Aboriginal
urban artists form their identities, and how do circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal art?
Aboriginal urban artists are of mixed Aboriginal heritage, often estranged from some ideal of"authentic"
traditions and belief systems oftheir culture. But identity formation in this art world is fraught with
complexities and ambiguities.
I draw on three research techniques: First, past studies and statistical information for socio
economic data; second, participant observation of artists, informal and structured interviews with art
galleries, and a brief survey of buyers; and third, the life story to gain further insight into the female
Aboriginal urban artist's world.
The social and political interactions of producers, circulators, and consumers can both
constrain and create opportunities for artists and their identity formation. Most artists say stereotypical
images continue to reinforce binary representations of Aboriginality, such that the "authenticity" of their life
ways and their art forms is questioned. Most say racist attitudes towards Aboriginal people continue. But
artists do seem to have opportunities to freely form their identities. They're "copying" traditional symbols
and putting their own meanings on these symbols. Also, they don't seem to be shifting from their life stories
and cultural traditions to meet specific art market standards.
Most artists seem to form their identities by drawing on their social, cultural, political, and
economic histories and experiences in Australia. They're moving beyond the myopic views of others to
develop a comfort level with their own understandings of their Aboriginality. But a few artists essentialize
ii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. "traditional" life ways and art forms. They see this as a way for them to authenticate their Aboriginality.
But all artists are challenging the ways Aboriginal people are perceived and the misconceptions about the
type of subject matter usually expected of Aboriginal artists. Their art forms teach us, the outsiders, what
they have been through and who they are. Also, to a large degree, circulators and consumers seem to
appreciate Aboriginal art forms which show the ways artists draw from their unique histories and
experiences.
iii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I thank the men and women artists in Australia- from Tobwabba Art in Forster, in the mid
north coast ofNew South Wales, Eora Arts Centre and Long Bay Correctional Centre in Sydney, and
independent artists in Forster and Sydney- for their willingness to be part of this research. I want to
especially thank "Katina" and Pamela Brandy-Hall who shared their life stories with me, and Azalia Ahmat,
who graciously opened her home and took me under her wing. I am also grateful to the staff at Tobwabba
Art, and members of the Forster Local Aboriginal Land Council (FLALC), particularly Cal Davis and
Auntie Mae (Simon), who provided support during my field work. I'm indebted to John Weate, who
responded with such enthusiasm to my initial idea of research with Tobwabba Art, and who continued to
ensure access to varied opportunities to enrich the research. I would also like to thank Les Ahoy, Anthony
(Ace) Bourke, Gavan Flick, Caroline Friend, Jenny Heller, Peter McKenzie, Adrian Newstead, Sue Paull,
Rick Shapter, and Ken Watson who graciously agreed to be part of this research. And I thank the buyers of
Aboriginal art who responded to my survey.
I thank my Committee Chair, Brett Williams and Members Joan Gero (American University,
Washington, D.C.) and Claire Smith (Flinders University, Adelaide, Australia) who provided critical and
insightful commentary on the form and substance of this dissertation. I also thank Dianne Austin-Broos,
Gaynor MacDonald, and Terry Smith (University of Sydney) who gave insight into current research on
Australian indigenous people and their art. I'm grateful to David Hirschman and Elizabeth Sheehan who
provided counsel and encouragement in the early phases of this research at American University. 1 also
want to thank Judith Strupp Green (in San Diego) who provided invaluable assistance with the draft
dissertation. And I thank the World Bank in Washington, DC, my previous employer, and the Independent
Scholars of San Diego (SDIS) who helped fund the research.
I'm indebted to family and friends in Sydney, Washington, D.C., and California - especially
my husband J. Wemyss Joss, my late brother Colin Percival, and my father H. J. Percival- for their
unrelenting support and encouragement.
iv
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT ...... ii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... iv
LIST OF TABLES ...... viii
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ...... ix
Chapter
1. INTRODUCTION ...... l
Research Problem
Research Design and Objective
Methodology
Research Sites
Background and Preparation for Field Work
Relevance of Research
PART I. ABORiGINAL AUSTRALIA, ITS ART, AND IDENTITY
2. CONTEXTUALIZING ABORIGINAL AUSTRALIA ...... 23
Aboriginal "Traditional" Life
Impact of Colonisation in New South Wales
Aboriginal Art
Locating Aboriginal Urban Art
Scholarship on Aboriginal Identity and Art
3. FORMING IDENTITIES ...... 34
Identity
Historical and Social Context for Identity Formation in Aboriginal Australia
Racial and Ethnic Identity Formation
Theoretical Framework of Postcolonialism
v
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. PART II. THE SOCIO-POLITICAL RELATIONS OF THE ABORIGINAL URBAN ART WORLD
Chapter
4. THE SITE OF PRODUCTION ...... 52
Production of Contemporary Aboriginal Art in Australia
Binary Representations of Aboriginality and the Question of"Authenticity"
Tourist Art and the Indigenous Image
Art and Identity Relationship
5. THE SITE OF CTRCULATTON ...... 78
Co-optation of Aboriginal Culture
Patterns of Circulation
Circulators and Representations of Aboriginality
6. THE SITE OF CONSUMPTION ...... 85
Devouring of "The Exotic"
Patterns of Consumption
Consumers and Representations of Aboriginality
7. COMPLEXITIES FOR ARTISTS' IDENTITY FORMATION ...... 89
Stereotypical Images of Aboriginality
Racist Attitudes Towards Aboriginal People
Opportunities for Artists
Indigenous Ways of Thinking
Pressures of Commercialization
vi
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. PART III. "QUATTRO PAGINE"- LIFE STORY NARRATIVES
Chapter
8. PAMELABRANDY-HALL ...... 108
9. "KATINA" ...... 133
10. CONCLUSTON ...... 157
The Ways Artists Form Identities
Representations of Aboriginal Art
The Socio-Political Relations of the Art World
Theoretical Framework ofPostcolonialism and Its Relevance
Reflections on Research Design
Contributions to the Discipline
Future Research
APPENDICES ...... 167
Appendix 1: Research Sample
Appendix II: Research Schedule
Appendix III: Data Analysis Plan
Appendix IV: Tables
BffiLIOGRAPHY...... l94
Vll
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. TABLES
Table Page
1. Summary of Artists' Emphases on Valuing Forms ...... l89
2. Summary of Socio-Economic Data, MNCNSW and Sydney ...... l90
3. Summary of Circulators' Emphases on Valuing Forms ...... l91
4. Summary Survey of Buyers ...... l93
viii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ILLUSTRATIONS
Figure Page
1. Cooperative Artist's Art Form ...... 69
2. MNCNSW Independent Artist's Art Form...... 70
3. Sydney Independent Artist's Art Form ...... 71
4. Sydney Eora Arts Centre Artist's Art Form ...... 72
5. Pan-Aboriginality Art Form ...... 73
6. Cultural Hybridity Art Form...... 74
7. Authenticity Art Form ...... 75
8. Cultural Hybridity and Authenticity Art Form ...... 76
9. Cultural Hybridity and not Authenticity Art Form ...... 77
10. Art Form Showing Stereotypicallmages ...... 103
ix
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER 1
INTRODUCTION
Some elderly people came into the shop and said," Great art, but it's not traditional art." I said, What do you call traditional? "Oh, you don't paint on bark, don't do it this way or that way." Well, I said, why haven't you still got your horse and sulky? What do you cut your trees down with today? Chainsaws? You used to use axes. So you've changed. But we're not allowed to change? [Russell Saunders, Aboriginal artist, in the mid-north coast of New South Wales, Australia]
Research Problem
In the context of the socio-political relations of the art world, how do Australian Aboriginal
urban artists form their identities, and how do circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal art? By
''represent Aboriginal art'' I mean that the ways circulators and consumers market, teach, or buy certain art
forms show the ways they represent Aboriginal art.
Aboriginal people comprise a slight 1.7 percent of the Australian population, but they
probably make up to 50 percent of working visual artists. They also contribute more than 50 percent of the
total value of Australian visual art sales and they dominate the export market (Maughan 2000:4-5). Despite
their extraordinary contribution to the Australian art market, Aboriginal people remain the most
disadvantaged group in Australia by all socio-economic indicators. A history of colour prejudice,
segregation, and legalized discrimination has left many Aboriginal people still struggling to achieve
equality and respect. This is particularly so for Aboriginal urban artists who continue to have their art and
even their identities questioned (Perkins 1993:22-25).
Aboriginal urban artists are of mixed Aboriginal heritage, often estranged from some ideal of
"authentic" traditions and belief systems of their culture. They are using art to help them express or claim
particular identities by exploring their ancestry and the chasm that exists between white and black Australia
(Bogais 1997; Horton 1994). But identity formation in the Aboriginal urban art world is fraught with
complexities and ambiguities. These are influenced by Aboriginal people's social, cultural, political, and
economic histories in Australia, as well as the recent national policy of self-definition of identity. The
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 2
currently accepted official definition of an Aboriginal person is "someone of Aboriginal descent who
identifies as such and is recognized by their Aboriginal community to be so" (Horton 1994:3). Aboriginal
people who once passed as "white," or tried to conceal their Aboriginality because oflegalized
discrimination, or perhaps were unsure as to their cultural heritage, now openly declare themselves as
Aboriginal.
Against this panoply of complexities and ambiguities, Aboriginal urban artists' identities
seem to be transforming in confusing and contradictory ways, often resulting in identities that are multiple,
shifting, and blurred. Furthermore, artists seem to be caught up in an exploratory and restless movement
where they are challenging past configurations of their identities, as well as forging new ways for how they
see themselves. Certainly the indicators of Aboriginality still include a pan-Aboriginal identity, which
creates a united ideology for all Aboriginal groups in their struggle for power (Tonkinson 1990: 193), and a
more local or regional group identity, sharing history, culture, and social organization (McLean 1998:1 07).
But the contemporary ideas of "cultural hybridity" and "authenticity" also seem to be important for identity
formation in the Aboriginal urban art world.
Postcolonial theorists argue that artists, in a continuing process of resistance and
reconstruction, occupy a fluid, flexible space of"cultural hybridity." They also argue that when fixed
practices, or stereotypical images, become iconized as "authentically" indigenous, others are excluded as
"hybridized." This distinction largely ignores the possibility of development and change as conditions
change. In effect, they argue that "cultural hybridity" challenges the assumptions of the ''pure" and the
"authentic." In some sense, then, "authenticity" can be seen as oppositional to "cultural hybridity." But I
also see "cultural hybridity" as complicated by power relations, including race relations, in that some
theorists suggest postcolonial theory actually hides racism, exploitation, inequality, and control over
resources (McClintock 1992:84-98; San Juan 1999:1-19). I see this as problematic since people tend to
form identities as they respond to changing power relations. Moreover, people often claim "authenticity,"
or cultural essentialism, for very good political reasons (such as indigenous land rights claims). 1 want to
find out how Aboriginal urban artists see themselves and create their identities through their artwork. Is this
really something they experience or express as cultural hybridity? Is it really a fluid, flexible space, or a
very constrained space?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 3
Other complexities for identity formation can be seen in the socio-political relations of the
Aboriginal urban art world - the social and political interactions among producers, circulators, and
consumers, influenced by the nation's policy-making. To a large degree, these relations constrain artists'
identities. For example, circulators and consumers, and sometimes artist-producers themselves, who hold
stereotypical images, constrain artists' identities, for they judge "traditional" art forms as "authentic" and
representative of Aboriginal culture, and "urban" art forms as "inauthentic." In fact, many white
Australians, while placing most people of mixed ancestry as outside white society, also deny their claims to
being Aboriginal. For them, authentic Aboriginal people are black, live in remote areas, and have exotic
languages and cultural features. A possible influence could be that, historically, the Australian state has had
a vested interest in policing and monitoring Aboriginal identity as a singular, unchanging, and authentic
category. Also, white Australians, who hold the view that contemporary Aboriginal society is
dysfunctional, constrain artists' identities, for they maintain racist attitudes towards Aboriginal people.
Racism is an integral part of Australian culture, as can be demonstrated by an examination of the
apparently uncontroversial understandings of Aboriginality found in Australian newspapers. Racism is
largely expressed in negative stereotypes, but also through the division and allocation of resources and
other forms of preference (James 1997:53; Langton 1997:93-94; Perera and Pugliese 1998:42, 48;
Tonkinson 1990:208; Wetherell and Potter 1992:43).
But the social and political interactions among producers, circulators, and consumers can also
create opportunities for artists, allowing freedom in the ways they form their identities. For example, when
a circulator (distributor, such as an art gallery or art teaching program) or consumer appreciates Aboriginal
urban art, artists' social, cultural, political, and economic histories are recognized, so their identities are less
constrained. But these opportunities can also be masked by the co-optation that sometimes follows. Co
optation occurs when mainstream agencies act as the interpreters to the general public on all things to do
with Aboriginal culture and the arts. This means Aboriginal communities are not able to represent or
interpret their cultures in their own ways to others. This can be problematic because indigenous peoples'
ways of thinking and interacting can differ from those of non-indigenous people. Also, the pressures of
commercialization, such as meeting market demands, can lead artists to diverge from their life stories and
cultural traditions.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 4
I try to capture the self-exploration and the shifting back: and forth that's taking place in the
Aboriginal urban art world by using the title "Beyond the Dreamings ...." I use "beyond" in the sense of
disorientation, a disturbance of direction, but also to express the vibrancy, resilience, and bricolage of the
artists, their creative choices, and their art forms. I'm not suggesting with this title a new horizon, nor a
leaving behind of the past. The beliefs generated in the Dreaming (which is an Aboriginal belief system
that continually absorbs changes) continue to be an integral part of the Aboriginal urban art world. One of
my objectives in this research is to increase public awareness of the diversity of indigenous life ways. So I
use "urban" to show how these artists' lives and their art forms are shaped by the different influences of
social, cultural, political, and economic contexts, and how this leads to significant diversity in their lives
and art forms. Hopefully, this research will contribute toward dissipation of the widespread stereotypical
images and misconceptions that continue to prevail in Australia, particularly for Aboriginal urban artists.
Research Design and Objective
I want to understand the ways in which Aboriginal urban artists form their identities, and how
their identities are influenced by their art. Also, I want to understand the ways art galleries and buyers
represent Aboriginal art. These research objectives call for a comprehensive and rigorous undertaking - a
multi-sited approach that moves beyond the conventional community setting to study political and
economic processes, spanning different locations (Marcus and Fischer 1986; Steiner 1994). I explore the
Aboriginal urban art world in two diverse geographic locations in New South Wales (NSW), Australia: a
small mid-north coast township and a cosmopolitan urban centre. Local producers, including independent
artists, artists affiliated with an artists' cooperative, art students in an Aboriginal art centre, and inmates in
an art program in a correctiona1 centre live in these two places, where one can also find art galleries and
buyers of indigenous urban art forms.
I use production, circulation, and consumption as three sites, or loci, for social and political
interactions within the Aboriginal urban art world. An important debate in the struggle for Aborigina1
identity and the representation of Aboriginal art centres on binary representations of the "traditional" and
the "urban" Aboriginal (and their respective art forms), including the question of"authenticity." Exploring
the above three sites in depth allows me to understand not only how people interpret, debate, and challenge
authenticity, but also how artists form identities, and how circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal
art. Also, these three sites of social and political interactions in the Aboriginal urban art world provide a
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 5
lens for examining postcolonial theory and contemporary thinking on cultural hybridity and authenticity
(Bhabha 1994; Escobar 1995) and raciaVethnic identities (Linnekin and Poyer 1990; Williams 1989). The
theoretical framework I'm working with (Ashcroft et al. 1995, 1998) presents the ideas of cultural hybridity
and authenticity as largely oppositional, but my research shows more nuanced interpretations of these
ideas.
To understand how different identities are represented in the production of Aboriginal urban
art, I look at art forms on canvas that use acrylic paint, pottery, didjeridus (Aboriginal musical instruments),
and art designs developed for licensing companies oftourist art products (these include postcards, greeting
cards, gift boxes, jewellery, coasters, mugs, vases, key rings, fridge magnets, mouse mats, leather wallet
pouches, boomerangs, T -shirts, watches, sports clothing).
I use four valuing forms which I defme as valued or important ways in which artists'
identities manifest themselves: cultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional
group identity. They serve as broad indicators for the diverse ways in which artists form their identities. But
these valuing forms are not without their problems: they could be seen as Western constructs that don't
necessarily reflect indigenous ways, and they could generalize the differences and blur the contradictions in
identity formation. Also, these valuing forms are not mutually exclusive. People can key into lots of
different aspects of identity over time, and at the same time as well. My objective is not to make simple
judgements on whether artists emphasize one valuing form over another, but to consider the complexities
involved in how and why they might emphasize one over another, or a mix of valuing forms. In a sense,
I'm using these valuing forms as a device for inquiry into the inter-relationships between them. However
artists might emphasize these valuing forms, through their words and art forms, I don't expect them to be
neatly compartmentalised or oppositional, as might be interpreted from the measures I use below.
I look for ways artists emphasize the valuing form of cultural hybridity. For example, they
might talk of the importance of, or show in their art forms, the mixing of values and ideas, such as
influences from Western culture and "traditional'' Aboriginal culture. They might also want to empower
Aboriginal people through the use of mimicry, irony, self-reflexivity, paradox, or allegory in their art forms
in order to subvert (undermine) the dominant culture (Bhabha 1994; Griffiths 1995; Hutcheon 1995). Also,
in emphasizing the valuing form of authenticity, artists might talk of the importance of, or use in their art
forms, ''tradition" or "signifiers of authenticity" to authenticate their identity. They might draw upon
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 6
symbols or images that are well associated with the "traditional" aspects of Aboriginality, not reflecting
their local or regional symbols or images either because they don't seem to exist or they're not aware of
them. But the reason they draw on these "traditional" aspects is to authenticate their identity (Ashcroft et al.
1998:21-22; Williams 1989: 429).
I also look for ways that artists emphasize the valuing form ofpan-Aboriginality. For
example, they might choose to identify with "Aboriginality" rather than local or regional group affiliation.
They might be actively involved in political organizations, or articulate current concerns for Aboriginal
people within a growing multi-cultural Australia. Their art forms might suggest raciaVethnic implications,
drawing on themes from the Aboriginal past and on shared experiences of oppression, such as events in the
colonial history of Australia. They might also reflect issues of concern to Aboriginal people, such as the
environment, land rights, health, respect for traditional Aboriginal culture, alienation, discrimination in
white Australian society, and pride in their Aboriginal identity. In emphasizing the valuing form of a local
or regional group identity, artists might choose to identify with their specific local or regional identity such
as the "Koori" identity label, or even a further marker such as "Wiradjuri" denoting a tribe or language
name. Political interests might also play a part, but are more likely to be shaped by local factors. Also, their
art forms might depict artists' "Aboriginal" locations and cultural histories. For example, in a coastal
location, the imagery of the art form might show sea animals and bird life that are distinctive
representations of this location. The imagery might also show some unique identifier of the cultural history
such as an event or an important site.
A key question here is how artists evoke identities through different art forms. Do they use
different iconography, media, or themes to express who they are, their connections, and their communities?
How do the iconography, media, and themes differ for those artists working in diverse geographic locations
and for those artists working in different contexts (independently, in an artists' cooperative, an Aboriginal
art institute, and an art program at a correctional centre)? And does the artist's identity shift in these diverse
geographic locations and different contexts, as well as within the different social contexts in which art is
produced?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 7
Methodology
The sources for this research are Aboriginal urban artists, art management personnel, and
buyers. A key element has been the informed participation of Aboriginal people in the research through
direct consultation and the incorporation of Aboriginal knowledge. I draw on three research techniques.
First, I draw on past studies and statistical information from the Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islander Commission (ATSIC), the National Indigenous Arts Advocacy Association (NIAAA), the Art
Council of Australia, the Ministry for the Arts for New South Wales, and the Australian Bureau of
Statistics (ABS) for gathering basic social and economic data on Aboriginal urban artists (such as census
information, income sources and levels, social organization and institutions). I also collected historical and
ethno-historical data, for my two research site locations, from the archives of the Art Gallery of New South
Wales and the Mitchell Library in Sydney.
Second, I use participant observation, drawing on data collection methods such as
observation, natural conversations, and various kinds of interviews (structured, semi-structured,
unstructured, and informal). For artists, I draw on all of the above data collection methods. I also use
methodological triangulation (such as interviews, reinforced by observation, and checked through
documentary analyses) in order to maximize my chances for making valid statements (Kane 1995:96). For
art galleries and buyers, I draw on observation and natural conversations and, where appropriate, a
combination of informal and structured interviews, as well as a brief survey for buyers through
participating art galleries.
Third, I use the ethnographic technique of a life story - a methodological tool providing
access to a body of information that is more detailed and more discerning (Chanfrault-Duchet 1991)- to
gain insight into the female Aboriginal urban artist's world. Despite the fact that more male than female
artists participated in this research, women play an important role in the Aboriginal art world. Aboriginal
women have "traditionally" been involved in painting for ceremonies, although they have only recently
been accepted as "artists" by the dominant society. Women paint their own stories and have their own
iconography. Moreover, it is the matrilineal connections that run right through Aboriginal art. This is seen
in the art forms of artists who paint the Dreamings of their mothers' line to those who use fragments from
their mothers' albums and memories of Aboriginal childhoods to rebuild their connection with their
Aboriginal heritage. Because women might be under-represented in this research, and because oftheir
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 8
important role in the Aboriginal art world, I want to create a space for women's voices, to better understand
their worldview. Using a life story approach helps me to gain insight into the complexities, the ambiguities,
and even the contradictions of the relations between the female Aboriginal urban artist and Australian
society. I have selected two artists from different locations, and, largely because of their youthful ages, I'm
using the Italian colloquialism "quattro pagine," which means "a few pages," rather than "life story."
Research Sites
This section provides insight into the lives of indigenous people and some of the
organizations that are central to their lives in NSW, Australia. With an Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander
(indigenous) population of 101,500, NSW now has the highest number of indigenous people of any State or
Territory in Australia. Indigenous people live in all areas of the State, from the heart of Sydney to remote
outback communities to coastal and inland townships. In Sydney, the capital city ofNSW, the indigenous
population is estimated at 28,754 (0.9 percent ofthe overall Sydney population). The highest percentage of
indigenous people are in the inner-city areas of Redfern, Glebe, Waterloo, Woolloomooloo; in the La
Perouse-Botany areas to the south ofthe city; Mt. Pleasant in the West; and Ambarvale and others in the
outer southwest. Most of these areas have a high percentage of public housing, low-income households,
and one-parent households (Bray 1998).
Social and Economic Characteristics oflndigenous People in NSW
The statistical information, below, comes from one of the first (and the latest available at the
time of research) national surveys of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, conducted in 1994 by the
ABS. These are estimates of the social and economic characteristics of the indigenous1 population in NSW,
and are based on information obtained from indigenous households (McLennan 1996).
Families form an important unit within indigenous societies. In 54 percent offamilies, all
family members were indigenous, while 46 percent had both indigenous and non-indigenous members.
Couple families with children constituted 51 percent offamilies, one-parent families 29 percent, and couple
families without children 16 percent. In one-parent families, 83 percent of parents were not employed.
About 8 percent of persons aged 25 years and over reported, being taken away from their natural family by
1 For purposes of this survey, "Indigenous" means persons 13 years and over, who identified themselves to be of Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander origin. Persons 12 years and under were identified by a responsible adult in the household, usually a parent. (ABS NATSIS, NSW 4190.1 1994 p.63)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 9
a church mission, the government, or welfare. Information relating to participating in indigenous cultural
activities, the extent to which people identify with clan, tribal, or language groups, and recognition of and
access to homelands (an area of land to which indigenous people have ancestral and/or cultural links) is
used in this survey ofNSW to give an indication of the level of cultural identity and maintenance. During
1993, 67 percent of people attended at least one indigenous cultural activity. Some 45 percent attended a
funeral, 44 percent festivals and carnivals, 10 percent ceremonies, and 28 percent were involved with
indigenous organisations. An estimated 48 percent of persons aged 13 years and over said they identified
with a clan, tribal, or language group. Of the persons aged 13 years and over, 82 percent said that the role
of the elders was important, and this general level was consistent across all age groups and different
geographic areas. Of people aged 13 years and over, approximately 68 percent recognised an area as their
homelands with 33 percent currently living there. In Sydney, recognition of homelands was high (71
percent), however, a lower proportion of people were currently living on their homelands (21 percent).
For persons aged 13 years and over, some 60 percent of people perceived alcohol to be one of
the main health problems in their area. This general view was held across all age groups in Sydney, as well
as in other urban and rural areas. Drugs were the second most frequently reported health problem, being
perceived as a health problem by 39 percent of persons.
School participation rates declined significantly with age. For 14 year olds the participation
rate was 97 percent, while for 17 year olds the rate had fallen to 35 percent. Females had a higher
participation rate than males. Nearly half (4 7 percent) of all students were taught about Aboriginal or
Torres Strait Islander cultures at school. In addition, 9 percent were taught Aboriginal or Torres Strait
Islander languages.
The overall unemployment rate was 46 percent. The unemployment rate is greatest in the 20-
24 age group (53 percent) and also very high in the 25-44 age group (49 percent) and in the 15-19 age
group (46 percent). Government payments were the main source of income for 57 percent of persons, non
Community Development Employment Projects (non-CDEP) earned income for 26 percent, and CDEP
earned income for 4 percent. An estimated 11 percent of persons stated they had no income. The CDEP
scheme operates through grants from the A TSIC to indigenous community organisations to enable
individuals to undertake community managed activities in return for wages.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 10
Nearly a quarter of persons aged 13 years and over (23 percent) reported having been arrested
in the last five years. A greater proportion of persons who had been taken away from their natural families
as children reported being arrested (31 percent), compared to those who had not been separated from their
natural families (22 percent). An estimated 38 percent of unemployed persons and 34 percent of persons
working on CDEP had been arrested, more than double the arrests for persons who were working in non
CDEP employment or who were not in the labour force. Approximately 42 percent of persons aged 13
years and over perceived family violence to be a common problem in their local area.
The above socio-economic data largely demonstrate the hardships Aboriginal people in NSW
face in terms ofhealth, education, and employment. Also, their perceptions of family violence and
incidences of criminal activity are high. But the data also show a high level of cultural identity and
maintenance, largely through people's involvement in festivals, ceremonies, indigenous organisations, and
funerals. And there's a high percentage of indigenous people who see the role of elders as important. So
there's a revitalization of indigenous cultures, despite a history of colonial policies and practices that
sought to separate Aboriginal people from their cultures. Art is an important part of this revitalization. For
some Aboriginal people, art is a way out of poverty. But for most, art is a way of showing pride in their
indigenous heritage and gaining a sense of who they are. Also of interest in the data is the high percentage
of families with both indigenous and non-indigenous members. I don't know what to make of this. But it's
an interesting trend that is likely to have widespread implications for future indigenous policies and
programs.
A Small Mid-North Coast Township
In Forster, a small coastal township within the Great Lakes region on the mid-north coast of
NSW (approximately four hours north of Sydney by car), I focused my research on Tobwabba Art, an
Aboriginal artists' cooperative. Forster is renowned for its unspoiled beauty, accessible sites for water
sports, and its year-round pleasant climate. The Great Lakes region, including Forster, has become a haven
for retirees, for those wanting to escape the urban sprawl of Sydney, and for tourists. Development and
growth have inevitably made their mark here, as in other coastal resort locations, but it has been somewhat
contained. I was, in fact, pleasantly surprised to fmd that, after an absence of some twenty years or so, the
small township and surrounding areas of Forster have been able to retain much of their beauty and charm.
My favourite holiday sites as a young child were still discernible. But Forster is also important for
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 11
Aboriginal people. Today, the Aboriginal Mission (or Reserve), called "Cabarita," is located in the centre
of Forster, over the road from the artists' cooperative. Prior to the area's development and growth, the
Mission was located on the outskirts of the township. About 250 Aboriginal people are living on the
Mission, with most being descendants of the Worimi tribe, although some are from the Biripai tribe, further
north in Taree (Verbal communication with the General Manager of the Forster Local Aboriginal Land
Council [FLALC]).
Tobwabba Art began in 1992 with an Aboriginal art and culture course for the people of the
local Aboriginal community. It now serves as an art and design studio producing "urban coastal Aboriginal
art" and designs for over thirty design licensing companies. The name "Tobwabba" means a "place of clay"
and refers to a hill in Forster where the Mission is located. The majority of the male and female artists live
on the Mission, but there are some artists who live within the township of Forster or on the outskirts. When
Tobwabba Art began there was a ninety percent unemployment rate in the Aboriginal community.
Tobwabba Art was conceived of as an innovative employment creation program which would hopefully
encourage a new sense of Aboriginality among its participants. In this it has been successful, serving as a
model of a successful Aboriginal enterprise. A key to Tobwabba Art's success could be the mixing of black
ownership (it's 100 percent owned by the FLALC) and white management representation (from the Great
Lakes Community Resources [GLCR]). Cal Davis, the General Manager of the FLALC at Cabarita
Mission, says of the black ownership/white management: "It's a nice reconciliation concept as far as I'm
concerned." Nevertheless, balancing a community development emphasis (which is a fundamental precept
ofTobwabba Art) and a growing business enterprise continues to be a challenge for Tobwabba Art (Yeshe
Smith 1997).
Tobwabba Art Gallery and Shop, opened in 1998, is the only participating gallery in this
research to market "urban" art forms as fine art and tourist art. But these distinctions are not really clear.
John Weate, General Manager of the GLCR and manager ofTobwabba Art, says the gallery/shop markets
"probably more craft than art, and it's probably more design than art." And the art director, Tobwabba Art,
points out: "[The art] is very urban. [It has] evolved into a very colourful, bright, and vibrant style of art
that is not always accepted as pure Aboriginal art." The gallery/shop is frequented by locals and tourists
(domestic and international).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 12
Cosmopolitan Urban Centre
The metropolitan area of Sydney is a cosmopolitan urban centre that is ideally suited for
exploring how Aboriginal urban artists fonn their identities, and how circulators and consumers represent
Aboriginal art. Australia's colonial history began in Sydney, in 1788 with the first European settlement,
and the impact on indigenous people in this location has been both long-tenn and largely negative. In fact,
Sydney, and much ofNSW, is considered by many people (Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal) to be the site of
an extensive and highly destructive contact history. But metropolitan Sydney also serves as a repository for
indigenous artists with diverse heritages. Their lives are shaped by different influences of social, cultural,
political, and economic contexts, leading to a diversity and richness not only in their lives but also their art
forms.
In Sydney, I focused my research on: independent Aboriginal artists located in the inner city
area ofRedfern, the southwest outer suburb of Ambarvale, and the northwest outer suburbs of Windsor and
Penrith; Aboriginal art students at the Eora Arts Centre, Faculty of Aboriginal Studies, Sydney Institute of
Technology, NSW in Redfern; and Aboriginal inmates in the art program at Long Bay Correctional Centre,
a maximum security prison (for males) located at Malabar, Sydney (near La Perouse).
The Eora Arts Centre, which was established in 1984, is the leading training provider for
Aboriginal people interested in careers in performing and visual arts. All courses conducted at the Centre
are open to all Australians, with priority enrollment given to Aboriginal students. I am particularly
interested in the "Aboriginal Art and Cultural Practice" Diploma Course of one year (or four years, with
each year discrete). For this diploma course, subjects include printmaking, painting, marketing,
management, sculpting, and art theory. According to the Aboriginal newspaper "Koori Mail" (September 8,
1999) there are about 120 Aboriginal students (male and female) per semester including new and
continuing students. Student ages range from the 20s to the 50s and they are at all levels of literacy and
numeracy, with courses designed to provide equality of educational access and vocational training for
Aboriginal people. The Eora Arts Centre is seen as a starting point for students wishing to pursue a career
in the visual and performing arts areas, or further education at universities in Bachelor programs (Verbal
communication with Arts Faculty in the Eora Arts Centre).
Long Bay Correctional Centre is a series of buildings, some which date from the nineteenth
century. My sense is that these buildings might not be a prison at all were it not for the numerous large,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 13
heavy steel gates and doors, with locks and bolts, through which you have to go. In the Malabar Special
Programs Centre there is a courtyard with several cell sections facing it. Large murals (by non-Aboriginal
artists) of images of life outside these walls - a rainforest, a beach, and a cityscape - are painted on the walls
facing the courtyard. The art studio is a large room, with high ceilings and lots of natural light from highly
placed windows. It rivals art studios within the academic world Those inmates with an interest and talent
in art have something to look forward to fifteen hours of the week. But they still have "lock-up" in their
individual small cells from 3.00 p.m. to 6.00 a.m. each day. In the art studio there is a mix of inmates, not
only Aboriginal inmates. There's L. from Colombia (in for six years), M. from New York (in for six years),
W. from South Africa (in for ten years), and C. from Hong Kong (in for six years). Their art forms are as
varied as their cultural histories. According to the Arts Program Coordinator (who started the program in
1986 and continues to oversee its operations), inmates are chosen for the program by their aptitude and
enthusiasm. There are usually up to ten students at a time who stay anywhere from six months to a couple
of years.
Located near the entrance security gates to the prison is the Boom Gate Art Gallery, which
was opened to the public in 1992. Its objective is to exhibit and sell the art work of inmates in the arts
program, referred to as "prison" art or "urban" art. The gallery is frequented by family and friends of
inmates and Corrections Department staff. The inmates are involved in every aspect of the gallery - from
the graphics to the printing of the cards, the presentation, the pricing, and administration. Sue Paull, the art
teacher/coordinator who established the gallery says:
It came about because I was just so impressed by the standard of work that the guys were achieving that I really wanted for the community to be able to see what they were doing. I wanted to make a link between what was actually inside jails and in the marketplace. But jails are difficult places within which to produce work, and so my main purpose is to really try and focus on the individual and what being involved in art production can do for him. The commercial side is very much a secondary concern.
In Sydney, there are three art galleries participating in this research which market both
"traditional" and "urban" art forms as fme art and tourist art: Coo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery in Paddington,
Gavala Aboriginal Cultural Centre in Darling Harbour, and Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery in Rose Bay and
Fox Studios. Hogarth Galleries in Paddington markets both ''traditional" and ''urban" art forms as fine art
only. Coo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery is non-Aboriginal owned. The gallery opened in the early 1980s and is
probably the first gallery in Sydney to show Aboriginal urban art, although it also relies heavily on showing
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 14
contemporary traditional art. Adrian Newstead, the owner/director, says the gallery's interest lies "in
promoting artists' careers and selling works that actually return money directly to artists now." On the
street level the shop sells gift items and crafts of Aboriginal origin as well as a large selection of books. The
gallery on the upper level has a regular monthly exhibition program and represents many of Australia's
foremost Aboriginal artists. Coo-ee Aboriginal Art is also the largest Australian publisher of Aboriginal
limited edition prints and stocks more than 300 editions by over 90 traditional and urban artists. Coo-ee
holds seminars for students and teachers of art to introduce them to Aboriginal art history and relevant
contemporary issues. The gallery is frequented by locals and tourists (domestic and international), as well
as overseas business people.
Gavala Aboriginal Cultural Centre, established in 1995 by a family of Aboriginal artists, is
Sydney's only Aboriginal-owned retail centre and fme art gallery. The Centre carries a collection of art
works from most parts of Australia, showing different artists and styles: traditional artists such as Clifford
Possum Tjapaltjarri and Michael Nelson Tjakamarra and urban artists such as Jim Simon and Elaine
Russell. The Centre also carries Tobwabba Art licensed products, such as boomerangs, didjeridus, clothing,
and jewellery. Free Aboriginal art appreciation talks are given each day. Gavan and Alanna Flick, both of
the Karnilaroi nation and owners of the Centre, say the Centre is designed to promote the interests of
Aboriginal artists and communities all over Australia to their clientele -locals and tourists (domestic and
international).
Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery began operations in 1991 and is non-Aboriginal owned.
Caroline Friend, director of the gallery, says: "We tend to sell more craft than art and represent artists from
Sydney, Western NSW, and crafts people Australia-wide." The art form the gallery sells is diverse, both in
terms of style and price range, and includes jewellery, ceramics, silk, sculpture, and fine art. The gallery is
frequented by locals and tourists (domestic and international). Many of the independent artists in this
research were referred to me by this gallery and, according to these artists, it has consistently been there for
them.
Hogarth Galleries is non-Aboriginal owned. The gallery is known for bark paintings but it
also sells contemporary work, with a concentration on desert areas, and Aboriginal urban art by artists such
as Michael Riley, Destiny Deacon, Judy Watson, Ian Abdulla, and Robert Campbell. The gallery is
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 15
frequented by locals and overseas business people. Anthony Bourke, co-director, says: "We probably hang
the gallery around what is our ideal client which is a well-heeled American in town for a convention."
Background and Preparation for Research Field Work
As a development management specialist at the World Bank in Washington, D.C. in the USA,
small-scale rural and urban projects captured my attention for some fifteen years during the 1980s and
1990s. My field work (or missions) in South and Central America and the Caribbean region focused on
basic services and upgraded housing projects and integrated agricultural development projects that
devolved responsibility and accountability to local municipalities.
Chambers (1983) talks about the phenomenon of the brief rural visit, or "rural development
tourism," which, he says, seems widespread in international donor agencies such as the World Bank. He
argues that the outsider professionals must step down off their pedestals, and sit down, listen, and learn
from knowledgeable rural people (1983:75, 101). My masters program in development management
followed Chambers' thinking by emphasizing how to manage development projects better by listening and
learning from local people. This approach became foundational in my development work. I spent time
talking with local farmers and urban households about the projects, seeking their views on what was or was
not working, and how we might reshape components of projects to better meet their needs. Larger concerns
oflocal people were shared with the appropriate municipal government agency (or central government
agency). As a consequence, I did feel that I was facilitating squatters having, for the first time, a street
address, through the provision of low-income housing. I also felt that I was helping farmers to increase
their opportunities for reliable sources of income, through the development and marketing of diversified
agricultural crops. And it was clear to me that much-needed resources for family households could be
attained through rural women's involvement in micro-enterprise activities.
My World Bank development experience (largely dealing with a cross-cultural perspective; a
methodology of rapid assessments, where appropriate, as well as listening and learning from local people;
and a skill for speaking and writing clearly) continues to influence the way I go about field work. But my
toolkit is further enriched with anthropological perspectives, methods, and skills from my doctoral studies
in socio-cultural anthropology. My perspectives now tend to be holistic, contextual, people-oriented, while
recognizing the complexities in people's lives. I draw on methods that include ethnography, analysis,
interviewing, and qualitative and quantitative research. And my skills centre on fmding themes and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 16
patterns, teaching, building trust, and facilitating. Perhaps most significant is my ability now to see how
anthropological approaches can fit within a development objective, particularly with the use of
participatory field work methodology where information gathering is more sensitive to people. This leads
to improved quality of information for policy makers and practitioners. As well, local people can contribute
more directly to the evolution of policies and programs that will affect them.
By the late 1980s, the World Bank and the United Nations began to respond to indigenous
people's concerns. Efforts were made to ensure that indigenous people were not adversely affected by Bank
projects and that the social and economic benefits they received were in harmony with their cultural
preferences. Moreover, the "informed participation" of indigenous people in the preparation of
development plans and in the design and implementation of projects was encouraged.
I became interested in indigenous people, globally, and their concerns. And, while the
interests of indigenous people in South and Central America were capturing my attention, so were the
concerns of indigenous people in my home country, Australia. It was becoming clear to me that I really did
not know much about Australian Aboriginals. Certainly growing up as a child and young woman in
Australia I heard little and saw even less of indigenous people, apart from the familiar stereotypical images
presented by the media and others. Indigenous people were absent from conversations, unless there was a
"problem" with them. In fact, the association of the word "trouble" with Aboriginal people is well-
entrenched in Australian society, such that Aboriginals are either a trouble or no trouble. In a recent
conversation with me about Aboriginal people working on the family farm, my father illustrates this:
I was born in 1920 in the mid-western town of Parkes in New South Wales. I lived the first twelve years on a farm which was isolated, some seven miles from the township. While there were Aboriginals around the outskirts of the town, I didn't have much to do with those, except when we went to town. But there was some contact on the farm where they would be called in, particularly around shearing time, for shearing, laboring work there, and then with the harvest in wheat, and handling the cattle. They were quite good workers during that time. There never seemed to be any trouble with them.
Thomas (1999:93) says a culture of occasionally self-critical curiosity emerged that enabled white Australians to encounter "Aboriginality" through images and objects, while rarely engaging with
Aboriginals in person. Over much of the twentieth century this curiosity was expressed in artifacts, and
later in art. To a large degree, this is indeed true. In fact, there's a fairly widespread view that the
Aboriginal painting or artifact was desired but the Aboriginal neighbour was not. Even my father's respect
for Aboriginal ingenuity doesn't hide how he (and probably much of his generation) shows interest in
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 17
indigenous people and their art forms and artifacts in an ethnographic way, and less so in Aboriginal people
today and their situations:
My father, in 1918, had bought a very old set ofboomerangs and shields in Western New South Wales from a doctor there and these were of interest to me. I had a lot of respect for the Aboriginal hunting tools and implements, which were also used for their warfare. The returning boomerang was initially produced by them for the entertainment of the young boys, not for serious hunting or warfare. I found it fascinating and started to make some boomerangs and play around with them to get better results. I was intrigued to know that people who had lived thousands of years before me had gone through the same processes that I went through then. I felt that if I could throw them and catch them I could show people around the world, wherever I went, something ofthe skill and culture of Aboriginals. It sort of opened up possibilities to tell them what the Aboriginals were like.
In earlyl992 an Australian "indigenous" art exhibition was held at the World Bank in
Washington, D.C. This exhibition celebrated the coming of age of an art movement that started in 1971 at a
small central desert Aboriginal community called Papunya. It was here that I learned more of Aboriginal
Australia and its art world, particularly ''traditional" artists and their art forms. I purchased my first
Aboriginal painting in the "traditional" style - "Grandmother's Dreaming" by Gabriella Possum
Nungarrayi, the daughter of a well-known and respected artist, Clifford Possum Tjapaltjarri. Not
surprisingly, this purchase was the impetus for my journey several years later to do research and fieldwork
in Aboriginal Australia and its art world, albeit with a particular focus on Aboriginal "urban" artists and
their art forms.
Relevance of Research
In the Decade of the World's Indigenous People (United Nations 1995-2004) indigenous
concerns are centerstage in Australia today. Aboriginal identity continues to entail a struggle- for equality,
for respect, and for acceptance as the original Australians (Tonkinson 1990). And the prevailing image of
Aboriginality in terms of antiquity and continuity has severely diminished the capacities of Aboriginal
people in settled areas to secure important social, cultural, and economic gains (Attwood 1996). Also,
largely due to past anthropological and Australian social thinking, the art of urban-based Aboriginals has
been regarded as not authentically Aboriginal and therefore neglected (Bogais 1997; Horton 1994; Langton
1992-93; Perkins 1993; Simons 1993).
An important debate in the struggle for Aboriginal identity and the representation of art
centres on binary representations of Aboriginality which raise the question of what is "authentic"
Aboriginality (James 1997). Another debate centres on postcolonial theory (Bhabha 1994, 1995) and its
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 18
problematic nature - its perceived singular, monolithic thrust (McClintock 1992); the fact that it seems to
hide racism and exploitation and ignore issues of power, inequalities, and control over resources (San Juan
1999); and the perception of"hybridity" as a racist term (Ashcroft et al. 1998; Papastergiadis 1995; Perera
and Pugliese 1998). Also important are the ways stereotypical images of Aboriginality and racist attitudes
towards Aboriginal people tend to contrain artists' identities. And, despite the opportunities that circulators
and consumers can create for artists and their identity formation, there's always the risk of co-optation and
the potential for "inauthenticity" from the pressures of commercialization. Gaining insight into how these
concerns manifest themselves for Aboriginal urban artists, in terms of identity formation and how
Aboriginal art is represented, is important for elevating the Aboriginal urban art world from its past
obscurity in scholarly research. It's also important for the nation's ongoing reconciliation efforts.
I hope to build on the efforts of anthropologist Myers (1995) and art historian McLean (1998)
to develop a new relationship between anthropology and the study of art. The placement of this research in
indigenous Australia has particular relevance for anthropologists studying indigenous mixed-heritage
people ofNew Zealand, Canada, and America (Gray's study [1998] of mixed-heritage Native American
artists reveals similar issues). But it's also of interest to other indigenous people.
Articulating the relevance of the research to the discipline and to society does not
automatically endow the research with relevancy to the people on whom it focuses. A separate articulation
is required. I recognize the diversity and the importance of Aboriginal urban artists and their art forms. Part
of the importance of Aboriginal urban art is that it is more willing to voice criticism of past wrongs and
work to undermine the inequities of the present. Artists participating in this research play an important part
in the process of educating the wider community about their lives, their art forms, their Aboriginality, their
criticisms, and their agendas for the future.
I use production, circulation, and consumption as three sites, or loci, for social and political
interactions within the Aboriginal urban art world. I cover the whole complex - from the local producer to
art gallery representation - in two diverse geographic locations within New South Wales. This allows for a
more comprehensive and rigorous insight into the issues outlined above. Engaging the dominant culture, in
this case the Western art world (art gallery personnel and buyers of indigenous art), in concert with a
particular focus on Aboriginal urban artists and their institutional art world (such as an artists' cooperative,
an Aboriginal art centre, and an art program in a correctional centre) provides a more balanced presentation
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 19
of the issues in this art world. This broad approach captures the diverse and heterogeneous nature of
Aboriginal urban artists and their art forms. It's therefore likely to facilitate research relevancy to artists
themselves.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. PART I
ABORIGINAL AUSTRALIA, ITS ART, AND IDENTITY
20
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 21
So, one of the interesting things I found, when I first came into the community, there wasn't much identity in terms of who the group was, the community itself. The kids used to say, "we're Cabarita blacks" and stuff like that. There was a bit of an identity thing that wasn't real strong. But I think through Tobwabba Art that sort of changed the whole thing too .... There were artists in the community Before Tobwabba Art came along. Tobwabba was able to bring everyone together, and act as a springboard.[Cal Davis, General Manager, FLALC on Cabarita Mission)
Colonisation in New South Wales largely destroyed the Aboriginal ways oflife. It set in
motion policies for colour prejudice, segregation, and legalized discrimination which continue to mark the
experiences of Aboriginal people and their identity formation. Despite the recent shift to self-definition for
Aboriginal identity - after a history of assimilation and self-determination - many white Australians, while
regarding most people of mixed ancestry as outside white society, also deny their claims to being
Aboriginal. In fact, the long history of stereotypical representations of Aboriginality in Australia, often
created and used by non-Aboriginals for their own purposes, continues to reinforce negative images of
Aboriginality. So Aboriginal identity still entails struggle- for equality, for respect, and for acceptance as
the original Australians (Horton 1994:4; Langton 1997; Tonkinson 1990:208, 213-15).
Given this history of disruption and displacement, Aboriginal urban artists' understandings of
Aboriginal "traditional" life and the impact of colonisation in New South Wales influence the ways in
which they see themselves and assert their identities. Also influential for artists' identities are their
understandings of Aboriginal art as an integral part of the Dreaming, and as an integral part of Australian
society.
Identity is who we are, our own selthood. Identity formation is a restless process and so it's
never fixed once and for all, and it never coheres into an absolute form. It's multiple, shifting, often self-
contradictory and a hybrid, often discontinuous inventive process. Identity always presupposes a sense of
location and a relationship with others. And the representation of identity most often occurs at the moment
when there has been a displacement. It's not only a place of negotiation and of struggle but also a potent
force for political mobilization of disenfranchised people (Bhabha 1990:307; 1994:185; in Purdom
1995:26-27; Brydon 1995:138; Clifford 1988:10; di Leonardo 1994; Linnekin 1990; and Linnekin and
Poyer 1990; Papastergiadis 1995:17).
Postcolonial theorists argue that when fixed practices, or stereotypical images, become
iconized as "authentically" indigenous, others are excluded as "hybridized." This ignores the possibility of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 22
development and change as conditions change. Also, they argue that hybrid cultures have the potential to
disrupt or unsettle or minimally throw into question the forces of a dominant culture. So "cultural
hybridity" challenges the assumptions of the "pure" and the "authentic." But some theorists also suggest
postcolonial theory actually hides racism, exploitation, inequality, and control over resources. This is
problematic since people tend to form identities as they respond to changing power relations (Bhabha
1995:206; Escobar 1995:225; Lingard and Rizvi 1994:86; McClintock 1992:84-98; San Juan 1999:1-19). I
want to know whether postcolonial theory, and the ideas of cultural hybridity and authenticity, actually
engage with the work, talk to experiences, and explain situations. This would allow for an understanding of
the ways in which Aboriginal urban artists form their identities.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER2
CONTEXTUALISING ABORIGINAL AUSTRALIA
In this chapter I first explore Aboriginal "traditional" life and the impact of colonisation in
New South Wales. These two elements set the frame for understanding how artists form their identities, and
how circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal art. I then explore Aboriginal art: its references to the
Dreaming, its pivotal role in Australian society, the development of Aboriginal urban art, and the issues
Aboriginal urban artists face in constructing their identities. I conclude with an examination of scholarship
on Aboriginal identity and art.
Aboriginal "Traditional" Life
Aboriginal people were deeply religious, with religious feeling manifested through ritual
observance and through mythic expression. And an intrinsic part of it was a deep emotional attachment to
the land. This land was made familiar and intimate to them through mythic beings who were believed to be
manifested at specific sites, always present, and approachable through the medium of ritual (Berndt and
Berndt 1992:515-16). Mudrooroo (1994) points out that the Aboriginal way of life is spiritual in that there
is interconnectedness with all existence, extending from the physical realms to the spiritual, encapsulated in
the term "The Dreaming."
The Dreaming is a continuous process of creation from a time when the physical features of
the land were formed by creative beings that were neither human nor animal, but had the attributes of both.
It was through the actions of these primordial ancestors that flora and fauna, including humanity, evolved.
It was also from this time and from these ancestors that rites and ceremonies came into being. The
Dreaming focuses on the activities and epic deeds of the supernatural beings and creator ancestors such as
the Rainbow Serpents, the Wagilag Sisters, and the Wandjina, who, in both human and non-human form,
travelled across the unshaped world, creating everything in it and laying down the laws of social and
religious behaviour (Morphy 1999:50-1).
23
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 24
In the myths and stories of Australian Aboriginals, the most widespread of their beliefs was in
the existence of a huge serpent which lived in waterholes, swamps, and lakes. (In this research, artists also
draw on the Rainbow Serpent rather than the other supernatural beings, seeing it as an awesome creature of
power and importance.) In most myths it was associated with the rainbow. In some myths, Rainbow
Serpents appear as Ancestral Creators. Their bodies contained not only the first Aboriginals, but all the
natural features of the land, which in that remote time was flat and featureless. In others, the appearance of
a rainbow meant that the serpent was travelling from one waterhole to another. Sometimes it was linked
with the rainbow colours of quartz crystals, which the medicine-men of many tribes used as objects of
magic (Roberts and Roberts 1975:76).
The basis of group existence rested largely on the practices of reciprocity and responsibility
for others. The large kin-oriented structures that were usual in Aboriginal Australia had a specifically
utilitarian, socio-economic value. Cooperation with others was an essential part of Aboriginal semi
nomadic living. Kinship networks linked people together, in combinations that sometimes took the form of
conflict but more often emphasized collaboration and mutual help (Berndt and Berndt 1992:516).
Traditional Aboriginal life was cast within the past. But the lessons learned from the past
could be applied effectively, by Aboriginal people, to the present and to the future, if only because
solutions to specific problems ofliving within the Australian environment could not be varied radically -
not without risk. Outside the dynamics of social living, religious rituals were essentially concerned with
renewal, with sustaining or spiritually stimulating environmental fertility, and with sharpening intellectual
faculties. In that respect, ritual provided the main stimulus to inquiry and speculation, taking place within a
fairly closed system. It nurtured and enriched the Aboriginal arts- music, song-poetry, oral literature,
dancing, painting, and sculpture. Aboriginal people thought and felt and expressed themselves poetically in
ways that were mediated not only through religion but also through ordinary living (Berndt and Berndt
1992:517).
But it was not a utopian existence. Life could be harsh, social relations were fraught with
difficulties, and the ordinary course of living was punctuated by interpersonal dissension. There were,
however, positive attributes - values related to a perceived affinity with the land, harmony with nature,
cooperativeness, a love of beauty and aesthetic appreciation, a respect for the past which provided an
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 25
assurance for the future, and recognition that a person was responsible to others as those others were
responsible to him. These values were either ignored or not appreciated by the European newcomers
(Berndt and Berndt 1992:518).
Impact of Colonisation in New South Wales
The "traditional" world of the Aboriginal people, in all but a few instances, received a death
warrant when it came into contact with outsiders. In the south and southeastern areas of Australia European
settlement expanded rapidly, completely destroying Aboriginal ways of life and, in a number of cases, the
people themselves.
In New South Wales, the Aborigines Protection Board (established in 1883) administered the
Aboriginal Protection Act from 1909 to 1963. The Board's responsibility was to solve the "problem" of the
Aboriginal people. Large Aboriginal communities remained in many parts of the State, although the land
had been mostly alienated, the population had been decimated, and European ancestry became increasingly
common. These communities were seen as nuisances and in need of control. The Protection Board's
"solution" entailed interference with all aspects of the lives of those defmed as Aboriginal people which,
unti11918, referred only to those defined as "full bloods" and after that date to all with "an admixture of
Aboriginal blood." Missions (or reserves) were created and attempts were made to have all Aboriginal
people live on them under the control of a manager. Aboriginal people had little freedom under the Act,
until it was amended in 1963. Even then the Board retained special controls over children and Missions
until 1969. Aboriginal people in the State gradually ceased many cultural practices, which previously had
been central to their lives (Cowlishaw 1994:91).
A colonial history of policies and practices that sought to protect and then assimilate
Aboriginal people in NSW has left its mark in two important ways. First, Aboriginal people today face
hardships in terms of health, education, and employment. Aboriginal people perceive alcohol as one of the
main health problems in their area. School participation rates decline significantly after 14 years of age.
And the unemployment rate is high for those in the 15-44 age group. Perceptions of family violence and
incidences of criminal activity are also high. Second, the prevailing image of"Aboriginality" in terms of
antiquity and continuity contribute to the diminished capacities of Aboriginal people to secure important
social, cultural, and economic gains. This image of a static "traditional" Aboriginality continues to be
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 26
advertised and marketed as the "authentic" representation of Aboriginality within the Australian nation
state. Such an image questions the status of Aboriginal people who live in settled rather than "remote"
Australia, bear the marks of miscegenation, and practice no "traditional culture" - that is, those who have
been most obviously affected by the course of history since 1788 (Attwood: 1996).
Aboriginal Art
Aboriginal art is an integral part of the Dreaming - part of the constitution of the ancestral
beings, part of their presence and part of their immortality. It is also part of the land itself and all other
things that are thought to be creations of, and continue as manifestations of, Dreamtime ancestors.
Whenever Aboriginal art is produced and wherever it is exhibited, it involves the exercise of rights that can
ultimately be traced back to the Dreaming. Those rights are part of what makes it Aboriginal art, and locate
it in the world of particular people and places. Without this reference back to the Dreaming art would be
mere form ~ it would have lost its meaning (Morphy 1999: 145).
The thousands of rock engravings along the New South Wales coast (many of which are
impossible to date) are the most tangible evidence of Aboriginal people's artistic activities. These include
isolated images of animals or abstract shapes and whole galleries on flat rock outcrops covered with images
of animals, fish, and bird and animal tracks. Huge ancestor figures appear at the most important places.
Aboriginal artistic creations in New South Wales that have survived decay or deterioration include
ceremonial sites, historical places, rock engravings and paintings and carved trees (Elkin 1954:224; Flood
1995:277-79; Isaacs 1997:19, 23; Neale 1998:10).
Neale ( 1998:8) points out that the Dreaming is a belief system that continually absorbs
changes which are, in turn, revealed in new forms of cultural expression. Along similar lines, Morphy
(1999:221) says that within Aboriginal society the value and meaning of art changes with each generation:
it becomes associated with new people who experience it in different ways and make it part of the world in
which they live. The rise of an audience and market for "desert art" in the late 1970s was paralleled by a
renewed interest in bark paintings from Arnhem Land, in the Northern Territory, and a rise of interest in
''primitive" art elsewhere (for example, Inuit prints and soapstone and Andean textile art). This was
followed in the mid 1980s by the emergence of"urban" art shown in contemporary art spaces in the
southern regions of the continent. The extraordinary richness and variety of Aboriginal art today reflects
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 27
these rapid changes and also the exchanges between artists from different regions and diverse cultural
backgrounds (Neale 1998:10).
Aboriginal art has become an integral part of Australian society. McLean (1998: 119) argues
that by the late 1980s Aboriginal art had achieved an unprecedented popularity and exposure in commercial
and State public galleries. On every front Aboriginal art was emerging as the main focus of interest.
Maughan (2000:4-5) says that within Australia the voice of Aboriginal art constitutes a major practice -
large in volume and diverse both in content and media. She points out that " ... the total value to the
Australian economy of all Aboriginal arts and crafts (not including imitations) is said to be at least $100
million a year." In addition to this economic contribution, Neale (1998:10) claims that Aboriginal artists
have enriched the bloodstream of Australian art and changed the texture of the contemporary art scene
forever. But Graburn (1976:32) points out a larger political role for this art: Aboriginal art is also a major
tool in the struggle to provide some sort of unquestionable marker, to assert a new identity or reassert an
old one, to ameliorate the past and to secure the future for Aboriginal people.
Locating Aboriginal Urban Art
As the Aboriginal rights movements gained momentum in the 1970s and 1980s, urban and
rural artists became motivated by the issues of dispossession, broken families, racism, and an increased
sense of cultural identity. Among these artists are Avril Quaill and her screenprinted poster Trespassers
keep out (1982) and Alice Hinton-Bateup and her poster Dispossessed (1986). Quaill's image is based on
the unifYing symbol of Aboriginal Australia, the Aboriginal flag, designed in 1971 by the artist Harold
Thomas. In the circle ofthe yellow sun ofthe flag, an old Aboriginal man crouches defiantly against a
typical white Australian suburban picket fence bearing the ironic admonition of the title. Hinton-Bateup
combines words and imagery to express a sense ofloss ofheritage and a call for social justice, boldly
revealing the plight of Aboriginal people and proclaiming Aboriginal ties to the land. The text speaks ofthe
institutionalized movement of Aboriginal people for reasons of "poverty, harassment or white housing
policy."
In 1984 the Contemporary Art Space in Sydney hosted Koori Art '84 and this proved to be a
watershed exhibition for urban Aboriginal art and artists. The show articulated the concerns of Aboriginal
artists working outside the traditional Aboriginal framework, but also included non-urban Aboriginal artists
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 28
using European media and techniques. It also brought together several artists who had been working in
isolation yet had much in common. All lacked opportunities to have their work seen, and they shared
similar aspirations. From this Exhibition developed the Boomalli Aboriginal Artists Cooperative, formed in
1987 by Sydney-based artists to provide studio and exhibition spaces, as well as to promote the work of its
members.
Against a backdrop of static models of cultural diversity and authenticity, an increasingly
sophisticated art was emerging from the more populated parts of Australia, made by artists "whose people
continue to suffer the extremes of dispossession." The political climate fostered an articulate and forceful
response from these artists, who, using their greater access to a range of media and familiarity with the
language of the dominant discourse, adopted an overtly political stance. Artists drawing on the dynamism
of contemporary Aboriginal experience and often using satire or irony to maximum effect, perpetuate their
role as cultural activists in the 1990s (Perkins 1993:22-25).
To illustrate this brash confidence in dealing with the issues Aboriginal people face today, let
me share with you one of Richard Bell's art works. Richard is interested in the complexities of oppression,
and in responding to the plethora of discriminations within which Aboriginal people, and particularly
Aboriginal artists, have been trapped. His Crisis: what to do about this half-caste thing (1991) (Figure 6 at
the end of Chapter 4) incorporates dot-painting, cross-hatching, and stencilling within a politically-charged
composition. He confronts the issue of racial prejudice in a bold and sardonic manner, with three figures:
the black, the white, and the harlequin half-caste in the upper central section of the painting. The work
focuses on the historical treatment of Aboriginal people, in particular those of"mixed blood," known by
the derogatory term "half-caste." The painting juxtaposes symbols of Aboriginal and European
civilizations: images of Aboriginal boys in European clothing, an elder in chains, a defiant Aboriginal
warrior, and a page from a 1940s document on methods of controlling the "half-caste problem." In the
bottom right comer is a shopping list of colonial imports, in white, signifying intrusions and destruction
(flour, drugs, tea, alcohol, clothing, protection) and just three words in black: land, culture, dignity. The
"crisis" arises not from the existence of people of mixed descent, but from the anxieties and responses of a
racist settler population and government. His work addresses the multiple contradictions of the issue and, as
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 29
is Aboriginal art in general, is marked not only by its history but by its contemporary concerns (my
interview with the artist, Richard Bell, in Sydney; see also Caruana 1993:189-205; Thomas 1995:20-21).
Aboriginal urban artists are of mixed Aboriginal heritage, often estranged from some ideal of
"authentic" traditions and belief systems of their culture. While much of their work revolves around the
exploration of their ancestry and the chasm that exists between white and black Australia, they are careful
to avoid using images that may have ritual significance. The subject of their art comes from their life
experiences or imagination rather than from the Dreaming imagery (Bogais 1997:54-56; Horton
1994:1120).
Historically, the art of urban-based Aboriginal people has been regarded as not authentically
Aboriginal and therefore neglected (Horton 1994:1120). This is largely due to past anthropological and
Australian social thinking which has placed Aboriginal "traditional" art (and its artists) as "authentic," and
"urban" art (and its artists) as "inauthentic." Simons (1993: 182) argues that Aboriginal urban artists face a
difficulty in having their work accepted as being authentically Aboriginal because they are not tribal
people. She claims that urban Aboriginal people are still widely perceived as an underclass in Australian
society. Racial discrimination has frequently denied them equal opportunity. Moreover, she contends that
the arts establishment has rejected Aboriginal urban art on the grounds that it is not authentic, or ''really
Aboriginal." Langton (1992-93:9) also argues that Aboriginal urban art has largely been ignored as
"inauthentic" in the past, and she says that fmding the theoretical and aesthetic grounds for understanding it
is yet to come. Perkins (1993:24) says there is a view within Australian society that there is no ''real"
Aboriginal art in New South Wales. She further argues that "determinist perceptions of authenticity still
abound within Australian society." And Bogais (1997:56) claims there is a philosophical misconception
among non-indigenous people that the only real Aboriginal artists are those who paint with dots in the
Papunya region and do bark paintings.
McLean (1998) and Myers (1995) briefly touch on the past "invisibility" of Aboriginal urban
art. McLean (1998: 130) claims that by 1990 Aboriginal artists from the Western Desert had left an
indelible mark upon the Australian consciousness, but urban Aboriginal artists still remained largely
invisible. He says it was not untill990 that an institutional shift towards the inclusion of urban Aboriginal
artists became evident. And Myers (1995:73-76) claims that there seems to be an interest in the work of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 30
"traditional" artists, in contrast to "the lack of white interest in the work of urban Aboriginal artists." But
neither authors suggest the "invisibility" of urban artists and their art forms is linked to the perception that
historically the art of urban-based Aboriginals has been regarded as not authentically Aboriginal and
therefore neglected, as suggested by Horton (1994), Simons (1993), Langton (1992-93), Perkins (1993),
and Bogais (1997).
Scholarship on Aboriginal Identity and Art
There is a large body of literature on Aboriginal identity, as well as a significant number of
works on Aboriginal art. But not many anthropologists have written about Aboriginal identity in relation to
Aboriginal art. Hanson and Hanson (1990) observe, in Oceania, that individual and cultural identity may be
expressed in art in different ways: through a relatively unself-conscious expression of cultural themes and
preoccupations in the art of traditional societies, to the self-conscious deployment of art as a tool in the
political struggle of colonized people to retain their cultural integrity and to achieve a more just economic
and social position. Hanson and Hanson (1990: 1-3) argue that in societies who have experienced relatively
little contact with the West, art here is concerned with traditional subject matter. It is produced for
traditional purposes, and expresses identity unself-consciously, as an articulation and dramatization of
values and forms of organization significant in the traditional culture. But the Hansons also point out, since
Oceania has long been influenced by outside contacts, the study of art traditions of the unself
conscious/traditional sort in most areas of the Pacific is largely an historical enterprise. So it relies more
upon documentary evidence and museum research than on fieldwork.
The sort of relation between art and identity which the Hansons have termed self-conscious is
when artists and other members of society recognize art as something that expresses their own cultural
values. One of their reasons for producing and supporting the art is to promote those values. Megaw
(1990), in his study of the relationship between art and identity for Australian Aboriginal people, argues
that self-conscious identity in art seems to occur especially among those who feel that their cultural values
and identity as a distinct people are threatened. He claims that Australian Aboriginal people are concerned
to reconstruct their ethnic identity and pride, and here art plays an important role. He also raises two
important issues: First, there is a basic dilemma in joining the international art market, in that "traditional"
Aboriginal communities run the risk ofbeing controlled by it (see also Grabum 1976 for a similar concern).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 31
And second, one cannot adequately assess the arts of other people by the economic principles and
aesthetics of our own society (1990:282, 288).
While the above authors' works do not specifically address identity formation and cultural
representation issues in the Aboriginal ''urban" art world, they are, nevertheless, foundational works for my
research. Certainly the recognition of a self-conscious relation between art and identity for Aboriginal
artists is important for my research, as also are Megaw's concerns for Aboriginal "ownership" of
indigenous arts and culture.
Simons' (1993) comparison of Papua New Guinea urban artists and Australian Aboriginal
urban artists is also foundational to my research. She explores some of the ideas expressed by urban
Aboriginal artists in their art, including counterappropriation. This largely follows my exploration into the
Aboriginal urban art world and the relevancy of postcolonial theory and its ideas. Appropriation continues
to be a central concern of the present theoretical debate in Australia about Aboriginal art, in particular the
appropriation of Aboriginal images by white Australian artists. Simons argues that many Aboriginal urban
artists have successfully completed tertiary art school courses. Using the skills they have acquired, they are
making a calculated response to the dominant Australian visual culture, challenging it on its own grounds.
My research moves beyond Simons' focus on the ideas expressed by urban Aboriginal artists in their art. I
want to understand how these ideas expressed in art forms influence the ways Aboriginal urban artists form
their identities, and how circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal art.
Hanson and Hanson's research relies more on documentary evidence and museum research
than on fieldwork. Also, while it is not fully clear to me, it is likely that Megaw's research also draws on
documentary evidence, coupled with some limited fieldwork. Simons' research primarily looks at the art,
and to a lesser degree the artists (drawing from documentary evidence) and one Aboriginal urban artists'
cooperative in Sydney (drawing from documentary evidence).
Marcus and Myers (1995:11) suggest art continues to be the space in which difference,
identity, and cultural value are being produced and contested. If this is so, then the Aboriginal urban art
world provides a microcosmic lens for understanding the ways producers, distributors, and consumers
come together in often conflicting searches for what art means about difference and people. Here, the
works of anthropologist Myers (1995) and art historian McLean (1998) become important.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 32
Myers (1995:55-95) argues that production, circulation, and consumption of Aboriginal
acrylic paintings constitute an important dimension of self-production of Aboriginal people and of the
processes of"representing culture." In order to understand how Aboriginal Pintupi paintings have come to
represent "Aboriginal culture," Myers brings together Aboriginal painters, art critics, and ethnographers, in
addition to curators, collectors and dealers: in short, an "artworld" (Becker 1982). His study signals a new
relationship between anthropology and the study of art, moving beyond the boundaries of the categories
and practices of Western art worlds themselves, that have typically defined the anthropology of art (Marcus
and Myers 1995:4). His focus is on "traditional" artists and their art forms. I adopt his approach ofbringing
together the various players in the Aboriginal art market to focus on Aboriginal ''urban" artists and their art
forms. This is a focus I found to be generally lacking in scholarly works.
Myers (1995:59,81) raises an interesting question as to whether there can be a genuine
dialogue between the Aboriginal artists' conventions and those of the art world. His research shows the gap
between how the Aboriginal "traditional/remote area" artists account for their paintings and what
significance they are made to have in other venues. He suggests that Aboriginal people are central in the
numerous discourses taking place, but they are usually absent. And the discourses fail to explain the
meaning of the acrylic paintings at the Aboriginal level. At best, the Aboriginal people are considered to
have been co-opted; at worst, they are not considered at all. Myers' image is, in fact, real. My field research
shows Aboriginal "traditional/remote area" art exhibitions in Sydney, too frequently, discount the
Aboriginal artist, or provide a token Aboriginal artist or two, who remain on the periphery of the site and
the discourse. Under these circumstances, Myers is correct in questioning whether there can, in fact, be a
genuine dialogue between the Aboriginal artist and the "high art" world. But for Aboriginal urban artists,
where the "high art" world seems to figure less, Myers' image might not be as real. Nevertheless, his
question raises larger issues of"ownership," "authenticity," and "representation" that are pertinent to my
research within the Aboriginal urban art world. McLean (1998) draws on multi-disciplinary inquiries
(anthropology and art history) to provide insight into the historical construction of identities in Australian
art. He argues that white Australian art, and the writing of its history, have since settlement been in a
dialogue (although often submerged) with Aboriginal art and culture.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 33
My hope is this research builds on the work of Myers and McLean to forge a relationship
between anthropology and art. But I'm also concerned to educate the wider public on the ways Aboriginal
urban artists form their identities and how these identities are influenced by their art work. There's not a
real understanding within the wider public of the diversity in these artists' art forms, as well as the context
of their lives. A contributing factor is the paucity of scholarly works on these aspects. Also, there's a need
for greater awareness of how the "system" working in the Aboriginal art world (here I mean the socio
political interactions between consumers, circulators, and producers) actually creates identities. Art is not
an instrument but an arena, and it's this arena that interests me. But there's a partiality to my "system"
because it does not include art world policy makers, art critics and curators in public domains, and
academia dealing with the arts, anthropology, cultural studies, Aboriginal studies, or some combination of
these disciplines. These are all critical agents in this arena and could well serve as subjects for further
research.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER3
FORMING IDENTITIES
This chapter begins with my understandings of identity, followed by a background on the
historical and social context for identity formation in Aboriginal Australia. I then critique some of the
theoretical framework that has shaped my research. Preliminary research suggested that postcolonial
theory, and the ideas of cultural hybridity and authenticity, could be important for understanding the ways
in which artists form their identities, and the ways in which circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal
art. So I examine these notions. Also important are some of the ideas for racial and ethnic identity
formation, particularly Linnekin and Poyer's (1990) study of Oceanic (including Australia) cultural identity
and ethnicity and Williams' (1989) concept of ethnicity. So I explore the ways Aboriginal urban artists
determine their cultural affiliation and form their identities in the nation-state. This sets the stage for
examining some of the ideas of Ashcroft et al. (1998), Bhabha (1994, 1995), and Escobar (1995) in terms
of postcolonial theory, and the ideas of cultural hybridity and authenticity.
Identity
Identity is who we are, our own selfhood. Identity formation is a restless process. So identity
is never fixed once and for all, and it never coheres into an absolute form (Bhabha 1990:307). In fact,
Brydon (in Ashcroft et al. 1995: 138) talks of identity as multiple, shifting, and often self-contradictory.
Clifford, while acknowledging the mixed and relational nature of identity, conceives collective identity as a
hybrid, often discontinuous inventive process (1988:10). Povinelli (1993:19, 23) also talks of the "mixed"
nature of identity in her research with the Australian Aboriginal Belyuen community. Not only do
individuals draw on the mix ofBelyuen, Aboriginal, and Australian to identify themselves, but Belyuen
families identify themselves both as members of specific Daly River language groups and as the "Belyuen
mob." She suggests the identity a person chooses in a given exchange is based upon the audience, the
context of the query, and the motivation of the identification. Also, identity is influenced to a large degree
34
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 35
by politics. For example, Bhabha says identity always presupposes a sense of location and a relationship
with others. And the representation of identity most often occurs at the moment when there has been a
displacement. So identity is seen as a place of negotiation and of struggle ( 1994: 185; in Papastergiadis
1995:17; in Purdom 1995:26,27). And di Leonardo (1994), Linnekin (1990), and Linnekin and Poyer
(1990) see identity as a potent force for political mobilization of disenfranchised people.
Historical and Social Context for Identity Formation in Aboriginal Australia
In Australia the British created "Aboriginals" as an ethnic category based on European
notions of culture and heredity. In establishing the Australian nation, the British settlers and their
successors defined Australianness in essentially racial terms and excluded the indigenous people from that
category. From the earliest days of colonisation, white Australians assumed the prerogative of defining and
classifying Aboriginal people. In effect, Aboriginal people were at the bottom of a hierarchical scale and
Europeans, particularly those of British stock, were at the top. Although such notions have been rejected or
refined by scientists and scholars, they remain in popular theories to varying degrees and continue to be
invoked (Tonkinson 1990:191-92).
Ethnographic evidence suggests that in determining identity Aboriginal people traditionally
attributed greater importance to culture and genealogical ties than to heredity. Groups were differentiated
on the basis of the presence or absence of certain beliefs and behaviours, and of spiritual ties between
people and land. Personal identity and group affiliation are only partly accounted for by parentage. Other
important factors include place of conception, the actual rearers of the child, affiliations to land, rights in
ceremonies and religious paraphernalia, and language "ownership" as well as use. All these factors are
linked to the Dreaming, the spiritual essence and beings that preceded and continue to give life and
meaning to the landscape and everything in it, including humans (Stanner [1979] in Tonkinson 1990:191-
92).
Current Aboriginal ideas about race and identity, at least among those who air their views publicly, show both European and Aboriginal influences. The Aboriginal emphasis on kinship and
behaviour in determining identity is apparent in their analysis. But so too are European notions of
biologically determined behaviour and hence identity. Many Aboriginal people seem to be saying that
"Aboriginality" persists through generations, regardless of the degree of genetic inheritance, socialization,
and experience (Tonkinson 1990:208).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 36
In the late 1930s policies shifted significantly from those aimed at protection of Aboriginal
people to those emphasizing assimilation. The policy of assimilation was abandoned in the 1970s in favour
of self-determination. This policy gave Aboriginal people the right to take responsibility for setting the
course for further change, to specify the agenda for action, and to control policy implementation. In
practice, self-determination meant the creation of self-managing indigenous institutions and organisations -
both national and local - and the devolution of administrative power to local communities. The current
policy is self-definition. This is really the lifting of self-determination to a higher level, largely through the
emergence of new indigenous organisations. Self-defmition means that an Aboriginal person is "someone
of Aboriginal descent who identifies as such and is recognized by their Aboriginal community to be so"
(Horton 1994:3-4, 977-78). Despite this shift to self-definition, many white Australians, while regarding
most people of mixed ancestry as outside white society, also deny their claims to being Aboriginal. For
them, authentic Aboriginal people are black, live in remote areas, and have exotic languages and cultural
features. People lacking these characteristics cannot be "real Aboriginals" (Tonkinson 1990:208).
Policies devised to deal with people of mixed ancestry have had lasting impacts on Aboriginal
people and on race relations in Australia. Wood (1998:35-54) argues that in New South Wales the British
and colonial administrations were unable to develop an appropriate definition of what constituted
Aboriginality and its position with respect to European society. As a result, the position of Aboriginal
people in colonial society became uncertain and inconstant, reflecting ambivalent attitudes towards their
citizenship status and civil rights. (It was not until 1967, as a result of a national referendum, that
citizenship was extended to all Aboriginal people.) She points out that these ambiguities and
inconsistencies may have operated to the advantage of some individuals who "passed" as Anglo-Celtic and
welcomed the opportunity to identify as such. At the collective level, though, it was sadly indicative of the
power of racially discriminatory practices to influence supposedly universal government policies and
objective administrative practices (1998:51). As a consequence of this history, Aboriginal people remain by
far the most disadvantaged group in Australia by all socioeconomic indicators. And Aboriginal identity still
entails struggle- for equality, for respect, and for acceptance as the original Australians (Tonkinson
1990:213-14).
According to some, contemporary Australia desires to be represented as a successful
multicultural and ''postcolonial'' nation, from which all traces of racial and ethnic conflict have been
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 37
removed. But it is very much the scene of bitterly contested and competing racial and ethnic identities
(Cowlishaw and Morris 1997; Perera and Pugliese 1998). If, as Williams (1989:436) argues, ultimately
ethnic culture is structured and valued in terms of the attributes that provide the group with the strongest
claim to equal citizenship, then such contestation and competition is likely. The elements of this cultural
inventory that members of ethnic groups are most likely to prize are those that allow them to portray
themselves as the "foundation of the nation-state" or "second in significance for the progress of the nation."
On this point, Fourmile (1994:72) notes that Aboriginal people show great resistance to simply being seen
as just another ethnic group among the many which now comprise Australian society. As indigenous
people, they see themselves as the "First Peoples" or "First Nations" and demand that their specific status
and particular situations be recognized.
In an interesting aside, some authors suggest it is white Australians who are questioning who
they really are, rather than Aboriginal people, as well as questioning their relationships with indigenous
Australians (Attwood 1996; Lattas 1997:231, 242-43; Lingard and Rizvi 1994; McLean 1998:65). In
Australia, colonialism has operated in two ways: internally in relation to Aboriginal people and externally
in relation to Europe. White Australians have simultaneously been both colonised and colonisers. The past
few years have witnessed them struggling to shake off their imperial links with Britain, with moves towards
a Republic, while the Mabo High Court decision in 1992 has forced them to consider their own
colonisation of Aboriginal people. The Republican debate has highlighted the contradictions inherent in the
colonial history of Australia, while the Mabo judgement has compelled Australians to examine the reality
that the continent was never terra nullius. At the heart of both issues rests the question of Australian
identity (Lingard and Rizvi 1994).
Racial and Ethnic Identity Formation
Determining Cultural Affiliation
Linnekin and Poyer's (1990:2) study of Oceanic (including Australia) cultural identity and
ethnicity examines the proposition that people can be classified into mutually exclusive bounded groups
according to physical and behavioral differences. Moreover, these ascriptions are "presumptively
determined by ... origin and background" [Barth 1969:13]: people are as they are because they were born
to be so. Changes in external circumstances can affect but not completely alter identity. However, Linnekin
points out that if"people's categories are for acting" [Barth 1969:29] then cultural identity is not given,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 38
fixed, or immutable, but is dynamically ascribed in the present. If cultural identity is created in the present,
then- contrary to the Western notion of ethnicity- vertical factors such as putative ancestry, territorial
origin, and parentage are less important in determining cultural affiliation than are factors we might call
horizontal: interactions with social others, the political environment, prevailing categorical distinctions
(1990: 169-70).
Contrary to Linnekin's view, my research shows a good number of artists determine their
cultural affiliation by placing a strong emphasis on putative ancestry, territorial origin, and parentage.
Artists who choose to identify themselves as Aboriginal explore vertical factors to establish their
Aboriginal heritage (Tonkinson 1990: 198) and so the policy of self-definition of identity for Aboriginal
people is largely influential here (Chapter 7). But artists also continue to assert these factors in developing a
sense of who they are. This seems to be the case for those artists who have always known oftheir
Aboriginality and had connections to an Aboriginal community. And, to a lesser degree, it's the case for
those who have experienced broken and fragmented pasts, largely not knowing of their Aboriginality nor
having connections to an Aboriginal community. I don't discount that artists still emphasize their
interactions with social others, the political environment, and prevailing categorical distinctions (horizontal
factors) in determining cultural affiliation. But there's an emphasis on vertical factors that seems significant
in that, several years after meeting the three criteria for self-identification as an Aboriginal person, artists
continue to assert vertical factors as important for developing a sense of who they are.
To illustrate, Leeanne H. of Campbelltown, Sydney asserts her ancestry, origins, and
parentage for developing a sense of who she is. So she's emphasizing vertical factors. But she also
emphasizes her interactions with the political environment, one of the horizontal factors. She has always
known of her Aboriginality and had connections to an Aboriginal community, growing up on a Mission in
Cowra in the central west ofNSW. She tells me:
My family are the Ingrams, from the Wiradjuri tribe. I have an Aboriginal mother and a Scottish father so that makes me a half-caste and I hate that word. Both my grandparents were Aboriginal. My grandmother has a Scottish mother and my grandfather I've been told has Indian ("Curry Indian") somewhere back in his family. I've grown up knowing my Aboriginality because the Ingrams have led a very public political life. I have vivid memories as a child going to Aboriginal marches with my mother. My parents lived on a Mission- it's part of your life, where your roots are.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 39
Identity Formation in the Nation-State
Williams (1989) sees the concept ofethnicity, whether defined in terms of nested segments
that are descent-based cultural identifiers (as espoused by Ronald Cohen in Williams I 989:414-15) or
horizontal interest groups (as espoused by Abner Cohen in Williams 1989:402), as most useful when used
as a label for a dimension of the identity formation process in the nation-state. She argues that ethnicity
labels the politics of cultural struggle in the nexus of territorial and cultural nationalism. This characterizes
all putatively homogeneous nation-states. As a label it may sound better than tribe, race, or barbarian, but it
still identifies those who are at the borders of the empire (Williams 1989:439).
What is missing from Williams' argument is how "ethnic groups" can possibly move from
their disenfranchised and subordinated position to improve their status as "ethnic groups" within the nation
state. For Williams (1989:439), ethnicity appears to do no more than label those who are "at the borders of
the empire." On the other hand, Linnekin (1990: 150) sees ethnicity/cultural identity (whatever the label
used) as a potent force for political mobilization of disenfranchised people. And along similar lines, di
Leonardo (1994:169) says identity is the product of historical contestation, a response to oppression or part
of organizing to retain or regain power or privilege, essentially the emotive component of political action -
or inaction. For example, because of their subordination and disenfranchisement, Australian Aboriginal
people adopt the political tools of other groups struggling against dominant colonial powers. They begin to
see themselves as part of the "Fourth World" and start to turn Western notions of cultural boundaries to
their own political advantage. They often formulate an explicitly countermetropolitan identity (Linnekin
and Poyer 1990:12). Could the ideas ofBhabha (1995:206) and Escobar (1995:225), namely the potential
of hybrid cultures to resist and subvert dominant structures, provide hope for those "at the borders ofthe
empire?"
Theoretical Framework ofPostcolonialism
Initially, from readings and preliminary fieldwork, I thought postcolonial theory, and the ideas
of cultural hybridity and authenticity, could be important for this research. Critics, art historians, and
curators are becoming increasingly interested in indigenous artists whose art practices draw heavily on
contemporary international art. These artists may also be inspired by indigenous forms, references, and
values. Their work is informed by postcolonial theory, and particularly the critique of colonial images. Also
influential are contemporary writings on identity, which typically insist upon the mixed and displaced
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 40
character of people and their cultures (Thomas 1999: 16). In this section, I examine whether postcolonial
theory, and the ideas of cultural hybridity and authenticity, are relevant for the particular situations of
Aboriginal urban artists.
Postcolonial Theory
Postcolonialism deals with the effects of colonisation on cultures and societies. Fundamental
is the grounding of the term in European colonialist histories and institutional practices, and the responses
(resistant or otherwise) to these practices on the part of all colonized peoples. An equally fundamental
constraint is attention to precise location. Every colonial encounter or "contact zone" is different, and each
"postcolonial" occasion needs to be precisely located and analyzed for its specific interplay. The term
''postcolonial" is resonant with all the ambiguity and complexity of the many different cultural experiences
it implicates. It addresses all aspects of the colonial process from the beginning of colonial contact. It is a
continuing process of resistance and reconstruction. And it involves discussion about experiences that
include difference, representation, resistance, race, gender, and place (Ashcroft et al. 1995: 1-5; 1998:186,
189, 190).
An illustration ofpostcolonialism in action lies in Gordon Bennett's art work. Bennett was
born in the small Queensland country town ofMonto in 1955, and was largely unaware of his own
Aboriginality until about the age of eleven. His mother is an Aboriginal woman who had grown up in
Cherbourg, a settlement that had been established to house Aboriginal people under the infamous
Protectionist laws. His father was an Englishman who worked as an electrical linesman, while his mother
was in domestic service for white families. The family had middle class aspirations for Gordon at a time
when the dominant state ideology towards Aboriginal people was assimilation, something which his father
in particular accepted implicitly.
Much of Bennett's work explores how the ideological practices of assimilation were enforced
in his own life. But his early attitudes towards these practices were characterised by an ambivalence. On the
one hand, he was attracted to the humanist promise of assimilation. On the other hand, however, he
recognized the humanist project to dehumanize the colonial subject, requiring the colonized to mimic the
colonizer. This ambivalence is the subject of his Self Portrait: But I always wanted to be one ofthe good
guys (1990). Conceptually, this complex painting indicates the dual colonized/colonizing character of
Australian history, both past and present. He uses a photograph of himself as a child dressed as a cowboy to
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 41
show how the ideological structures of assimilation created conditions of psychic violence for Aboriginal
people. Even the innocence of childhood did not protect Aboriginal children from becoming caught in a
black/white dichotomy, which they had to negotiate in a way the colonisers did not.
In his work, Bennett largely implores Australians to look at themselves in ways which are
both instructive and unsettling, positioned as it is within the broader international project of
postcolonialism. His work is thus located in a cultural space that is both complex and contradictory. His
paintings critically engage with the dominant discourses of Aboriginality embedded in much anthropology,
particularly through the role of the primitive signifier, in both its racist and its romantic forms. They also
challenge essentialist notions of Aboriginality that persist in contemporary political discourse. His work is
thus positioned within an Australian postcolonial practice. Cultural and ideological containment of
Aboriginal people by a Western colonial rationality is a major theme in many of his paintings. In its
complexity, his art stands alongside the most interesting work in contemporary Australia, both in terms of
its aesthetics as well as its relation to identity politics. Indeed, the postcolonialism it expresses has global
significance (Lingard and Rizvi 1994:75-89).
Another illustration ofpostcolonialism in action lies in the work of Tasmanian artist Julie
Gough. Her works in mixed media are based on the ideas and obsession of collecting. They are often
organized as displays of items, designed to be attractive, to engage the attention of the viewer, to evoke
memories of childhood and past lives, but always with a sting in the tail. Her works are humorous but at the
point where "funny meets awful." The Trouble with Rolf(1996) illustrates this well. At first this seems to
be a decorative arrangement of lollipops, but it turns out to be the "sambo" figures from days of childhood
innocence which now seem so problematic. The arrangement of faces suspended on wire tied to fenceposts
turns out to be a musical score, the verse from a well-known Rolf Harris song, Tie me kangaroo down
sport. The art work can be sung. And the words place the image at that point in recent history when equal
wages were introduced for the first time to Aboriginal people working on cattle properties. "Good news,"
one might have thought. But the response of many pastoralists was to sack the Aboriginal workforce and
turn them off their own land: in Rolfs words, to "let me Abos go loose" (Morphy 1998:403-04).
Postcolonial theory has been, and continues to be, widely contested and debated. McClintock
(1992:84-98) says the term "postcolonialism" reorients the globe once more around a single, binary
opposition: colonial/postcolonial. Her concern is the orientation of the discipline around a singular
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 42
monolithic term, organized around a binary axis of time rather than power. She argues this singular
orientation runs the risk of obscuring continuities and discontinuities of colonial and imperial power. Along
similar lines, San Juan (1999: 1-19) is concerned that postcolonialism hides racism and exploitation, and
ignores questions of inequality of power and control over resources. His argument is linked to his view that
postcolonialism seems to deny history, specifically the histories of people with their distinctive trajectories
of survival and achievement. And McLean acknowledges Aboriginal urban artists might have benefitted
from the influx of postcolonial theory into art practice. But he says many Aboriginal artists, along with
critics from around the world, are skeptical. They see in postcolonial theory only the incorporation of
Aboriginality into a postmodern neo-colonialism (1998: 131 ).
How relevant is postcolonial theory for the particular situations of Aboriginal urban artists in
this research? Parry (1994:20) argues that even though Bhabha includes in his configuration of"the
demography of the new internationalism ... the major social displacements of peasant and Aboriginal
communities," his "vista emerges as narrower than what he promises." What is foregrounded by Bhabha is
"the poetics of relocation and reinscription" known by the cosmopolitan artist, writer, intellectual,
professional, financier, and entrepreneur in the metropolis rather than the "grim prose" of low-waged
workers in western capitals and other centres of capitalist growth within the Third World. Parry's concern
is real. Bhabha' s postcolonial theory seems misleading because his subjects of study are not those he
promises. He ignores an important segment of the global population: those colonized people (including
indigenous people) who are low-waged workers within the Third World. When I ask what it means to be an
Aboriginal urban artist, most artists say: "It feels good," "Means a lot," "I feel proud," and "I've got a job."
These responses don't seem to be those of cosmopolitan artists in the metropolis. They're more in line with
those of low-waged workers or displaced Aboriginal communities within a "Third World in the First"
(Young 1995). Also, the majority of artists' art forms tend to fall within the Western art world marketing
categorizations of mid-range or low-range, and not the high-range where the cosmopolitan artist might be.
(I admit these can be unhelpful terms that don't necessarily reflect indigenous ways of thinking.) So, in
some ways, Bhabha's theory ofpostcolonialism doesn't really speak to Aboriginal urban artists in this
research.
Also, a theory that seems to hide racism and exploitation, and ignore questions of inequality
of power and control over resources, as argued by McClintock (1992:84-98) and San Juan (1999: 1-19), is
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 43
problematic for this research. Bhabha's ignorance of these concerns could be because his vista is more with
the cosmopolitan intellectual in the metropolis rather than the low-waged worker in the Third World. But
these concerns are important for indigenous people in Australia. Not only does the history of colonialism in
Australia show racism and exploitation toward indigenous people, as well as inequalities of power and
control over resources, but these issues persist. For example, when I ask about peoples' attitudes to
Aboriginal people, artists respond that racist attitudes still continue and, in some cases, seem worse.
Influential are the widespread stereotypical images of Aboriginality held by some people. Also, the
prolonged episode in Australian history in which thousands of indigenous children were forcibly removed
from their families has left its mark. These actions are impacting on the ways Aboriginal artists see
themselves (Chapter 7).
Cultural Hybridity
Cultural hybridity commonly refers to the creation of transcultural forms within the contact
zone produced by colonisation (Ashcroft et al. 1998). In the context ofthe Aboriginal urban art world, I
suggest these transcultural forms involve the mixing of ideas, values, and institutions. This mixing is
derived from Western influences and ''traditional" Aboriginal cultural themes. But some scholarly writings
in Australia point up racist connotations for the term "hybridity." For example, Papastergiadis (1995:9)
says hybridity has primarily served as a metaphor for the negative consequences of racial encounters. He
suggests the enigmatic nature of the hybrid may still lurk within the contemporary uses of hybridity as a
model for cultural identity. Ashcroft et al. (1998:120) also note how hybridity became part of a colonialist
discourse of racism. This point is also raised by Perera and Pugliese. They see hybridity as one of the key
racist terms by which white Australia has attempted to manage and contain Aboriginal identities (1998:64).
During my field research a few people (Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, artists and academicians) seemed
uncomfortable with the term "hybridity." Some Aboriginal artists connected the term to "half-caste," and
its racist underpinnings. Sensitive clarification of my understanding of the term seemed to soften these
discomforts. Nevertheless, my sense is "hybridity" still carries, for a few, negative connotations, and these
are largely influenced by Australia's racially-based history.
For Escobar (1995:220), the notion ofhybridity entails a cultural (re)creation that may or may
not be (re)inscribed into hegemonic constellations. While his definition lacks specificity and clarity,
Escobar does make clear what cultural hybridity is not. Cultural hybridity does not imply the belief in pure
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 44
strands of tradition and modernity that are combined to create a hybrid with a new essence. Nor does it
amount to the combination of discrete elements from tradition and modernity, or a "sell-out" of the
traditional to the modem.
Perhaps more useful, largely because she elaborates on what hybridity is rather than what it is
not, is Trinh T. Minh-ha's view ([1991] in Escobar 1995:220-21) that hybrid cultures call forth a
hyphenated condition. The hyphenated condition, she writes, "does not limit itself to a duality between two
cultural heritages ... it requires a certain freedom to modifY, appropriate, and reappropriate without being
trapped in imitation." It is a ''transcultural between-world reality" that requires travelling simultaneously
backward- into cultural heritage, oneself, one's social group- and forward, cutting across social
boundaries into progressive elements of other cultural formations. Hybrid cultures are not about fixed
identities, even if they entail a shifting between something that might be construed as an existing cultural
practice and something else construed as a transnational element or force.
For some, cultural hybridity is not specifically a postcolonial phenomenon. It is something
anthropologists have been interested in for a long time (under terms such as assimilation and acculturation).
For example, Shohat says (1992: 108) in Latin America "hybridity" had already been invoked decades ago
by diverse Latin American modernisms that spoke of, among others, creolisation and mestizaje. But for
others, such as Parry (1994:13), Bhabha's concept ofhybridity cannot be so easily identified with what was
posited long ago by Caribbean and Latin American writers and intellectuals as creolisation, metissage, or
mestizaje. Whatever the outcome from this debate, I largely support Thomas (1996:9-16) and his interest in
the wider life of the ideas ofhybridity and creolization rather than the "more sophisticated expositions of
these terms by Homi Bhabha." Thomas positions hybridity with the related notions of cultural fusion and
the creolisation of identity, seeing the concept not only as a fertile concept in anthropology and cultural
studies but also as a motif with a much broader following in art milieus and in cultural commentary.
There is some consensus that hybrid cultures do have the potential to disrupt or unsettle or
minimally throw into question the forces of a dominant culture. For example, Escobar says within hybrid or
minority cultural situations lies the potential for resisting and subverting the axiomatics of capitalism and
modernity in their hegemonic form. He says that out of such minority situations might emerge other ways
of building economies, of dealing with basic needs, of coming together into social groups (1995:225). And
Bhabha (1995:206), who uses the term "hybridisation" in the sense of the continuing, interactive,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 45
developmental, and bricolage character of all postcolonial cultures (Lingard and Rizvi 1994:86), argues that
hybridity has the potential to reverse the structures of domination in the colonial situation.
Bhabha argues that the colonized has at his/her disposal various ways of subverting from
within, or undermining the character, morals or allegiance of, the dominant culture through the use of irony
(the adoption of a laudatory tone for the purpose of ridicule), allegory (a narrative or description in which
things have a figurative or symbolical meaning), self-reflexivity (a subject's action on himself), mimicry
(an imitation), and parody (a humorous exaggerated imitation of an author, literary work, or style)
(1995:206; see also Griffiths 1995:240; Hutcheon 1995:135). Bhabha (1994:112) further argues that this
challenge and resistance against a dominant colonial power deprives the imposed imperialist culture not
only of the authority that it has imposed politically but even of its own claims to authenticity. In effect, the
hybrid modalities challenge the assumption of the "pure" and the "authentic," concepts upon which the
resistance to imperialism often stands (Ashcroft et al. 1995:9 and 1998:120).
But is this notion ofhybridity and its potential to resist and subvert structures of domination
relevant for the particular situations of Aboriginal urban artists in this research? There are not many artists
using techniques to resist and subvert the structures of domination and thus empower Aboriginal people
(Chapter 4). There is a mixing of values and ideas by Aboriginal artists, which I see as a form ofhybridity.
But most artists in this research don't seem to display an assertive "freedom" in expressing themselves
artistically, along the lines of Trinh T. Minh-ha's idea that hybridity "requires a certain freedom to modify,
appropriate, and reappropriate without being trapped in imitation " (in Escobar 1995:220-21 ). Even though
artists are shifting back and forth into cultural heritage, oneself, one's social group and cutting across social
boundaries into progressive elements of other cultural formations, the movements seem to be tentative and
groping rather than displaying an assertive artistic "freedom." For many artists, resisting and subverting the
structures of domination through their art forms in order to empower Aboriginal people doesn't seem to be
a central concern. Rather, their art forms seek to inform their Aboriginality and its diversity, the
complexities of who they are, their particular histories, and their connections to their traditions and the
land.
Despite the fact that artists don't yet seem to display an assertive "freedom" in expressing
themselves artistically, I do believe they are empowering Aboriginal people. Aboriginal people in urban
(and rural) areas are increasingly moving toward art as a means for asserting their Aboriginal identity as
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 46
well as, to some degree, gaining economic independence. In some sense, they are unsettling the dominant
structures. They're not only showing their resilience as a group of people - and thus contradicting historical
expectations - but they're also more visible, largely through the sheer magnitude of art works coming out
from urban and rural areas of Aboriginal Australia. Art is an arena that Aboriginal people who have been
unwillingly colonised have turned to as a means of asserting their rights and autonomy in the transformed
postcolonial context. And they're articulating their concerns about identity, land, history, and traditions, not
just through their voices but also their art forms (Morphy in Smith et at. 2000: 142). So perhaps, in a
broader sense, Bhabha's idea ofhybridity- and its potential to disrupt the forces of a dominant culture- has
some relevance to the particular situations of Aboriginal artists in this research.
Drawing on the ideas ofBhabha (1994, 1995) and Escobar (1995), Hale, in his work on the
politics of identity in Latin America (1997:567-90), says the term "subversion" refers to the art of working
at the interstices, finding the inevitable cracks and contradictions in the oppressor's identity, discourse, or
institutional practice, and using them to the subaltern's advantage. He also says that Escobar, in his critique
of development, offers an intriguing hypothesis that fits nicely with the "interstices" argument: Groups with
greater insertion in the market have better chances of"affirming their ways of life" (presumably by
exploiting opportunities from within} than those "clinging" to conventional identities and strategies
predicated on resistance from outside the political economic system (Escobar 1995:219-29; Hale
1997:581).
I largely agree with Escobar (1995), but I also argue that with an insertion in the market
comes the risk of being controlled and manipulated by dominant groups in that market. (Hence the reason
why some independent artists in this research choose to be selective about the marketing of their art work,
either opting to work only with Aboriginal-owned galleries and/or tourist shops, or not selling their art, or
giving it away to family and friends.) If Aboriginal artists want to maintain control over their culture and
their arts then they must be aware of this potential risk and fmd ways to respond. For example, Tobwabba
Art has inserted itself well within the mainstream market with the creation of a tourist shop and art gallery
in a central part of the township of Forster. And artists share their work with the general public. They also
work on public murals in the township and give talks on Aboriginality and art in local schools. Apart from
other benefits, these efforts provide a good opportunity for artists and the indigenous community to affrrm
their ways oflife. Nevertheless, design licensing companies often maintain a static view of indigenous
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 47
people, with conventional identities and narrow stereotypical images. So there's a dilemma for the
cooperative when it's asked to produce more ''traditional" designs rather than the "urban coastal" designs
which are indicative of its particular location and culture (Chapter 7). How do artists respond to the
pressures of commercialization, with art market standards that don't necessarily reflect the diversity of
Aboriginal art forms and ways of life? Do they diverge from their life stories and cultural traditions to meet
these market demands? If so, aren't such actions likely to lead to perceptions by the outside world of their
"inauthenticity?"
Authenticity
The idea of an authentic culture is one that has been present in many recent debates about
postcolonial cultural production. In particular, the demand for a rejection of the influence of the colonial
period in programs of decolonization has invoked the idea that certain forms and practices are
"inauthentic." Some decolonizing states argue for a recuperation of authentic pre-colonial traditions and
customs. The problem with such claims to cultural authenticity is that they often become entangled in an
essentialist cultural position. Fixed practices become iconized as authentically indigenous and others are
excluded as hybridized. This has as its corollary the danger of ignoring the possibility that cultures may
develop and change as their conditions change (Griffiths 1995:237-41). As many others have pointed out,
authenticity does not reside in a past that is unchanging, lacking any internal dynamic (Smith et al. 2000:9).
Proliferating and perpetuating stereotypes of indigenous people as pristine and unchanging may
disempower indigenous people on the grounds that the practices of a contemporary present may not be the
same as those of an idealised (and unrealistic) past. The creation of influential images of what constitutes
"authentic" indigenality can constrain indigenous people in real and material ways, limiting their social,
economic, and political capacities.
Ashcroft et al. (1998:21-22) point out the use of "signifiers of authenticity" may be a vital part
of the attempt by many subordinated societies to argue for their continued and valid existence as they
become inevitably hybridized and influenced by various social and cultural changes. In a similar vein,
Williams (1989:429) argues that "severely impure people" (here I fmd Williams' choice of words
offensive; perhaps "hybridized" is an improvement, even though I have some problems with this word as
well) aim to separate themselves, either physically or ideologically, from those against whom they are
unfavourably judged and/or in relation to whom they are materially disadvantaged. They proclaim
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 48
themselves a new people. However, to become a people or nation they must have an image or myth
(provided by legend or history, religion, poetry, folklore, or what we more vaguely call ''tradition") or as
Ashcroft et al. (1998:21·22) say, "signifiers of authenticity." If, as Williams argues, this mythmaking (or
''tradition") is usually flexible and capable of being gradually transformed, then to some extent the risks of
essentialism might be diminished.
Invoking a ''traditional culture" to validate "authenticity" can win claims for indigenous
rights. But it can also lead to perceptions of"inauthenticity." Conklin (1997:728·29), in her research with
indigenous Brazilians, suggests exotic appearances serve as markers of indigenous authenticity. The
paradox of contemporary indigenous eco-identity politics is that many of its most powerful arguments for
indigenous rights rely on invoking such notions about ''traditional culture." Transnational symbolic politics
accommodate native peoples' defmitions of themselves and their goals only to the extent that these self
definitions resonate with Western ideological and symbolic constructs. But Conklin adds the irony of this
pro-Indian politics is that, by insisting that native Amazonian activists must embody "authenticity" it may
force them to act "inauthentically" (see also Attwood 1996). Jackson (1995:5) argues if the indigenous
Tukanoans in Colombia are to have any power at all they must have a traditional culture. Winning the
battle for self-determination increasingly involves acting and speaking with an authority that arises from an
"Indian way," that is traditional Tukanoan culture. And Povinelli (1991 :236-38), in her research with the
Belyuen Aboriginal community in the Northern Territory (NT) of Australia, says that Belyuen Aboriginals
maintain that the display of stereotypical Aboriginal practices such as hunting-gathering and ritual (now
largely the women's concern) is a crucial element to their winning the land claim. At the same time, she
observes how women living at the Belyuen Aboriginal community use a blend of indigenous and colonial
ideologies to organize, manipulate, and reconstitute European market structures to their benefit.
Is the notion of authenticity - and its iconizing of fixed practices as authentically indigenous -
relevant to the particular situations of Aboriginal urban artists? My sense is this idea has a limited
relevance. I show in Chapter 4 how a few artists emphasize the valuing form of authenticity and not
cultural hybridity. They're emphasizing ''traditional" symbols (and in a few cases, images) in their art
forms as a way to authenticate themselves and their work as "Aboriginal." In some sense they're invoking
"traditional culture" to validate their "authenticity" (Conklin 1997:728-29) and/or using "traditional
symbols" to serve as "signifiers of authenticity" (Ashcroft et al. 1998:21-22). But I point out in Chapters 4
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 49
and 6 these few artists also emphasize a local or regional group identity and/or pan-Aboriginality. And
they're shifting back and forth between these valuing forms. So their ways of seeing themselves are more
fluid and less fixed. Also, some circulators say it's appropriate for artists to "essentialize" aspects of
"traditional" art forms and ways oflife since they're facing social and cultural "gaps" in terms of
indigenality. They say that artists' invoking of"traditional" elements in their art forms shows a social and
cultural void in their lives rather than a way to validate their "authenticity" for political gain (Chapter 5).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. PART II
THE SOCIO-POLITICAL RELATIONS OF THE
ABORIGINAL URBAN ART WORLD
50
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 51
Everyone wants to recognize the Top End of Australia as the real Aboriginals and the real art. We've lost our culture through no fault of our own and now we have to regain that and express it in a way that we feel comfortable with. [Pamela Brandy-Hall, Aboriginal artist in Sydney]
I use production, circulation, and consumption of Aboriginal urban art forms as three sites, or
loci, for social and political interactions in order to contextualize the socio-political relations of the
Aboriginal urban art world. Each site is not simply a "location" but more an "arena," a scene of action, and,
in a theatrical sense, a stage. They're not neat, well-defined spaces, but rather interdependent and
overlapping scenes of action. They're vibrant and dynamic, and influenced by the complexities emanating
from the social and political interactions taking place at the sites.
My preliminary research suggested that the theoretical ideas of cultural hybridity and
authenticity could be important for understanding the ways in which artists form their identities, and the
ways in which circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal art. Also, important indicators of Aboriginal
self-identification can be seen in the term "Aboriginality"- from a pan-Aboriginal identity to a more local
or regional group identity. So data analysis includes within the thematic framework an examination of the
ways different groups at the sites - artists, circulators, and consumers - emphasize various combinations of
the valuing forms of cultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional group
identity.
I show the ways the different groups emphasize a mix of the above valuing forms: for artists,
in forming their identities and creating art (Chapter 4); for circulators, in the promoting, marketing, and
teaching of urban artists (Chapter 5); and for consumers, in the search for the "authentic" representation of
Aboriginality, and sometimes the search for "the exotic" (Chapter 6). The analysis is conducted in such a
way as to investigate the inter-relationships between these valuing forms and the nuances of individual
identities, as well as the identification of overall themes and patterns. In Chapter 7, I explore the
complexities that artists face in forming their identities. These complexities largely create a burdensome
environment and constrain artists' identities. But artists also have opportunities to freely form their
identities. However, these can be tempered by co-optation and the pressures of commercialization.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER4
THE SITE OF PRODUCTION
The site of production is where artist~producers have the opportunity for communicating the
things that matter to themselves, to other indigenous and non-indigenous people in Australia, and to the
world at large. This site is a vibrant and dynamic scene of action. And it's constantly changing in response
to what's going on at the sites of circulation and consumption, where recursive relationships are also taking
place. In this chapter, I will explore the site of production. First, the complexities in producing
contemporary Aboriginal art in Australia~ second, the debate concerning binary representations of
Aboriginality and the question of"authenticity;" third, the complexities artists face in doing tourist art and
maintaining a positive indigenous image. And fourth, I'll look into the relationship between art and
identity. I'll examine what artists, and their art forms, say about identity through their emphases on a mix of
the valuing forms of cultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional group
identity.
Production of Contemporary Aboriginal Art in Australia
According to Sutton ([ 1988] in Smith 1996), the production of contemporary Aboriginal art in
Australia takes two forms. The first is the creation by tribal Aboriginal people of paintings, sculptures, and
decorative and craft works which, while based on sacred imagery, are made for secular circulation among
others. They present, in general terms, elements of ancient dreaming stories, rendered in modes based on
traditional designs and figures, which coincide, often, with abstract notation. The second is the work of
nontribal Aboriginal people, people ofKoori, Murri, Nungar, and Nyungah background (also referred to as
Aboriginal "urban" artists), who use modes from any available artistic tradition. They have developed often
hybrid visual languages to communicate usually intensely political messages about matters of concern to
Aboriginal Australians, especially land rights.
I find Sutton's view too limiting: he does not take into account the dynamic nature, and the
52
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 53
political messages, ofboth art forms. Langton (1992-93:8-9) also takes issue with Sutton's view that
The underlying difference is one of detached comment (recent urban art) versus symbolic narrative (traditional art). In the urban case, there are usually two primary texts: the art object and its message. The latter is often an articulate political message. In traditional Aboriginal art there is basically only one public text: the story, or spirit, or animal represented and its representation.
For Langton, there is more to the works of many urban Aboriginal artists than "an articulate political
message."
In line with Langton's view, my research also agrees that artists' art forms are more than just
political. Artists are diverse in the meanings and messages they convey in their art forms, as shown in the
examples quoted below. Some artists, mostly those at the Eora Arts Centre in Sydney and those who are
independent, do articulate political messages. Certainly Aboriginal people's extensive and highly
destructive contact history is likely to be influential here. But artists are just as likely to shift to non-
political messages depending on their mood at the time (as shown in Kelvin's and Cecil's quotes below).
To a large degree, artists' organizational affiliations and geographic locations influence the diversity of
messages, but there's also diversity within those contexts. For example, in the cooperative in the mid-north
coast ofNSW, Mandy is inspired by her local area, its beauty, and its stories, but Kelvin suggests meanings
and messages can also vary:
I've been somewhere that is really special to me, a feeling of happiness for that place, and I'll paint it. I paint because I've been inspired by something. [Mandy]
The meanings vary depending on whether it's a tribal painting, a design, or a landscape. [Kelvin]
Independent artists and art students at the Eora Arts Centre in Sydney tend to be more
political in their messages. They show a mix of pride in their Aboriginality and anger at the historical, and
ongoing, treatment of Aboriginals. But it is also important to present a positive indigenous image and
educate the wider public, as Sydney artists Pam, Cecil, Debra, and Graeme show:
Don't forget your Aboriginality, respect your Elders, respect your youth because they're the future, the Elders the past. Be proud of who you are and show it to the world. [Pam, independent artist]
I paint and sometimes I get angry about what they've done to us. And other times, I do something beautiful. [Cecil, Eora Arts student]
Messages I want to send out are that Aboriginals are not bad people and that we generally want to get on with our life as well. [Debra, independent artist] I want people to understand my art in a pleasing way. I want white man to look at it and say "Hey, this is a
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 54
way I can look at the land. This brings me closer to an Aboriginal perspective." [Graeme, Eora Arts student]
Providing a somewhat different slant, inmates in the art program at the correctional centre
seek peace and relaxation for themselves through their art work, rather than sending messages to the
outside world. The art coordinator says:
My classes become a necessity for the inmates, a vital need to keep them going, a change from walls eighteen hours a day. Respite from their life inside, they find developing their art skills a relaxing break, to work at their own pace on their vision of the outside world.
The several inmates in the art program with whom I talk also share this view. Jason, an
Aboriginal inmate in the Art Program at Long Bay Correctional Centre, illustrates:
I get like peace, inner peace, satisfaction. That's where I solve a lot of my problems, a lot of stress-related problems like family or other problems in my life. I do my art and I sort of relax and think about positive things.
Certainly there are complexities in defining the two art forms -''traditional" and "urban." I
don't think these art forms can be so neatly compartmentalized under the respective rubrics of"ancient
dreaming stories" and "political messages," as Sutton suggests. In fact, most Aboriginal urban artists in
both locations see ''traditional" art forms as represented by "more earthy colours,"" symbols and dotwork,"
and "someone's 'Dreaming,'" and "urban" art forms as "a way of reviving something that has been lost"
but also "an extension of the traditional" and "more colours." The association of"urban" art with brighter
colours seems to be fairly universal for consumers as well, with statements such as: "I view urban art as a
transform into current settings, material, and brighter colours;" "urban art uses a wide range of materials,
colour, subjects;" "urban art has striking colours, beautifully crafted."
But care is required in the association of"urban" art with brighter colours for determining
"authenticity." I also observe vibrant colours in some of the distinctive contemporary art works coming out
from the Central Desert region. Eastern Arrernte artists with Keringke Arts at Santa Teresa, Northern
Territory and Anangu Pigangatjara artists with Kaltjiti Arts and Crafts Centre at Fregon, South Australia
are doing art that moves away from "traditional" Dreamtime art that is indicative of art forms from the
desert and remote areas. They're bringing together innovative, colourful design pathways, influenced by
the artists' country and culture. The art forms don't necessarily tell a story but seem to focus on elements of
the land- water, sky, the growth of plants and wildflowers after drought- in effect, a colourful landscape.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 55
Do we now categorize these art forms as "urban" because of the vibrant colours, and because there's also a
movement away from emphasizing "traditional" symbols?
Also, while many artists see the adaptability of"urban" art forms, some artists also see
adaptability in both art forms, suggesting less of a separation between them. Alanna and Leeanne,
independent artists in Sydney, illustrate:
I see all Aboriginal art as "traditional" art. Even though people are living in the city, it's not their fault that traditions have been taken away. Elaine Russell paints about her life on the Mission and even though she paints in a more contemporary style I still see that as traditional art. I see adaptability across the board - traditional and urban - but still keeping the traditional ways. [Alanna]
Traditional art is something that has been handed down .... Urban art, to me, is a way of reviving something that has been lost. I think they're both adaptable. Urban is now overlapping into traditional, and traditional art work is now bringing in the vibrancy of the urban art. I think the two coincide. [Leeanne]
One of the constants in these artists' viewpoints is "tradition." Despite the variety of
Aboriginal art today, often reflecting influences from different regions and cultural diversity, a sense of
"tradition" seems to be a common theme or template for artists in this research.
Binary Representations of Aboriginality and the Question of"Authenticity"
One of the larger debates concerning Aboriginal Australia focuses on binary representations
of Aboriginality. According to James (1997:60-62), binary representations form the basis for current
confusion concerning the question of"authenticity" among non-Aboriginals. The stereotypes of
"traditional" and "contemporary" Aboriginality, though different and opposed, both operate against the
interests of Aboriginal people. Aboriginality is not entirely a matter of Aboriginal self-determination. It is
contained and mediated by socio-political relationships and structures, most particularly with and of the
State as an active presence in Australian life (Perera and Pugliese 1998; Povinelli 1993). This relationship
is alive in the dualist representations of Aboriginality and plays some part in the repetition of certain icons
(such as spears, landscapes, and land rights flags) as signifiers of Aboriginality (James 1997:63). The
inflexibility of stereotypes based on binary or categorical oppositions mediates their efficacy as devices for
any kind of transformation. In effect, when "Aboriginality" is placed into opposed categories then
Aboriginal initiatives or issues become clouded in a debate about authenticity, thus obscuring the diversity
of Aboriginal ways ofbeing (Fourmile 1994:69-85; Gertsakis 1994:35-53; James 1997:72-73; Langton
1997:77-96; Morris 1994:71-72; Tonkinson 1990:208).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 56
The issue of binary representations of Aboriginality also applies to the production of
Aboriginal art forms. Binary representations of the "traditional" and the "urban" in Aboriginal art can be
seen as problematic because the question of authenticity largely negates the transformative and diverse
nature ofboth Aboriginal art forms. Neale (1998:8) suggests the labels of"traditional" and ''urban" are
clearly unsatisfactory for they take no account of the "open borders" between desert, regional, and urban
artists. Along similar lines, Kleinert (1992~93:44-45) says the convenient dichotomy of remote and urban
Aboriginal art means that each are treated as separate and mutually exclusive sites, thereby denying the
constant interaction which is taking place between communities. Even the nomenclature of''remote" and
"urban" tends to generalize the differences and blur the contradictions within the cultural production of
contemporary Aboriginal people. Indeed, it may well be that the idea of"remote" and "urban" Aboriginal
art privileges certain sites while others remain relegated to obscurity (such as Aboriginal artists in rural
areas).
Morphy (1999:7) says divisions that have been proposed between "tribal" and "urban,"
"classical" and ''modem," "traditional'' and "non-traditional'' pose more problems than they help solve. In
his view, "urban" is too general a term. He says the major problem with any dual division is that it
simplifies the variety and internal dynamism of Aboriginal art and threatens to impose rigid external
categories, which constrain the development of the art and define its authenticity. Thomas (1999: 16-17)
says that in certain art milieux, contemporary, overtly hybrid indigenous art is embraced, and traditionalist
work disparaged. In others, traditionalist work is held to possess distinctiveness and authenticity that
contemporary art has lost. Thomas rejects this kind of opposition. The crucial point, he says, is that
indigenous cultures are simultaneously ''traditional" (in the sense that distinctive views of the world remain
alive) and "contemporary" (in the sense that they belong in the present.)
In an effort to perhaps legitimize use of the terms, Neale (1998:8) suggests ''traditional" and
"urban" are attempts to capture the source or inspiration of two different styles of work being done by
Aboriginal artists today. "Traditional" does not mean something old and unchanging- a static art form that
is simply copied into the present for nostalgic or other reasons. Nor does ''urban" art mean that artists who
work in ''non-traditional" styles have no cultural traditions or that they live necessarily in cities or towns.
They are both contemporary art practices. As well, Kleinert (1992~93:4445) suggests both art forms rest in
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 57
a positive position. Art forms from remote communities are inscribed with immense power and status
because here spiritual life is largely intact. Moreover, she says, these art forms carry the cachet of their
association with an outback that is central to the cultural identity of non-Aboriginal Australia. Urban
Aboriginal artists, on the other hand, occupy the privileged site of the city: greater freedom and anonymity
is available to Aboriginal urban artists. She further argues that the contact history, with a greater degree of
cultural dispossession for urban Aboriginals than their counterparts in remote communities, is now the
catalyst for "a radically politicized art practice that is gaining critical recognition."
My argument here is that Kleinert seems to miss the implications for the Aboriginal urban art
world of a remote art's centrality to the cultural identity of non-Aboriginal Australia. In effect, the
historical (and largely ongoing) valuing of remote art forms as "authentic" (and representative of
Aboriginal culture) has resulted in the perception of urban art forms as "inauthentic" and hence their
neglect (Attwood 1996; Bogais 1997; Horton 1994; James 1997; Langton 1992-93; Perera and Pugliese
1998; Perkins 1993; Simons 1993). In addition, the city does not appear to be a "privileged site" for many
Aboriginal urban artists. A "greater freedom and anonymity" can be perceived as problematic in the sense
that one's cultural and individual identity, or search for cultural and individual identity, becomes lost to the
anonymous life in the culturally mixed city. And, contrary to Kleinert's view {1992-93:44-45), urban artists
are not all involved in "a radically politicized art practice" (Langton 1992-93 :8-9; see research findings in
Chapter 4.) Also, not all urban art is "gaining critical recognition" {personal communication from Board
member ofBoomalli Aboriginal Artists Cooperative).
Tourist Art and the Indigenous Image
Graburn (1976:5-9) defmes "fine arts" as adhering to culturally embedded aesthetic and
formal standards, even though they are made with eventual sale in mind. This definition can be problematic
because it seems to imply "purity" through a static, unchanging aesthetic and standards. In Graburn's view,
these art forms range from the truly functional to objects with less meaning and lowered standards, such as
those for tourist arts. Perhaps a better fit for the classification of"fme arts" within the Aboriginal urban art
world (and possibly the Aboriginal art world in general) is Graburn's definition for "reintegrated arts."
These art forms are new syntheses, suggesting fertile new forms developed by taking some ideas, materials,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 58
or techniques from the dominant society and applying them in new ways to the needs of minority people.
This defmition allows for the transformative and diverse nature of Aboriginal art forms.
According to Grabum (1976:6), "tourist arts" epitomize the rationali7.ation of production and
the standardization or simplification of design. When the profit motive or the economic desperation of
poverty override aesthetic standards, satisfying the consumer becomes more important than pleasing the
artist.
But the terms "fine art" and ''tourist art" can be problematic. Critics sometimes see them as
oppositional. But I argue, within the context of the Australian Aboriginal art world, rather than being
oppositional they're blurred. What these terms frame is sometimes not clear at all. I see "grey" areas within
and overlaps between each of these terms, as the owner/director ofCoo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery in
Sydney illustrates:
The distinction between Aboriginal fine art and tourist art is an elitist mind set for a start. But tourist art is basically caught up in gift type items whereas fme art can encompass all sorts of things and they are often bought by tourists. But there's no clear distinction.
Jules-Rosette (1984:55) defines for tourist art two distinct forms of imagery: The first form is
of idyllic traditional scenes {landscapes, waterscapes, flora and fauna, monuments, and domestic village
settings), which Jules-Rosette argues are universal in tourist art, and not unique to the African context,
largely because these images sell and they do not overtly generate controversy. The second form is of
representations of modernity and change, which reflect ambivalence and anxiety about the present and the
future, in effect, implanting the modem with a sacrifice of the past. Most artists in this research say there
are distinct forms of imagery for each art form, with tourist art forms of Aboriginality in Australia largely
following Jules-Rosette's "idyllic traditional scenes" and not, as she also suggests, "representations of
modernity and change."
There are common patterns for artists, whether in the mid-north coast ofNSW or Sydney, to
see fine art as paintings with meanings or stories, where an artist puts "heart, mind, and soul into the work."
In contrast, they see tourist art as design licensing work, a more commercial form of painting, "a contrived
work, without any real heart and soul." When I ask artists {both in the cooperative and independent artists
in the mid-north coast ofNSW and Sydney) which art form they prefer to use, 50 percent say fine art. As
stated above, artists feel they can put their "heart, mind, and soul" into fme art forms which they say is not
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 59
the case for tourist art. Only 11 percent say they actually prefer tourist art (although 14 percent say either
art form and 25 percent seem ambivalent, saying "don't know"), and this is largely because of the quicker
money they can get while waiting for their fme art to sell. In fact, as the director of Rainbow Serpent Art
Gallery in Sydney points out, the "bread-and-butter" income from tourist art seems to be a strong incentive
for most artists:
Tourist art is reproduced more and is more affordable than fine art. It's equally as valid to artists because a lot of artists can't be fine artists. They rely on the tourist market for their economic existence.
Thus, a deep tension informs my research. Art critics and galleries often see tourist art as
corrupted. Yet it's important not only for artists' economic existence but also for presenting to the outside
world an indigenous image that must be maintained. This indigenous image is that of an artistic, creative,
and innovative group of people, whose art forms carry the message: "We exist; we are different; we can do
something we are proud of; we have something that is uniquely ours." Artistic people are inherently
respected by members of the dominant society. The arts carry an aura of worth that is not attached to most
other means of earning a livelihood. The same income from the arts may have a higher psychological value
for indigenous people than if it were earned in manual labor or other commercial trade. Any opportunity
that allows even a modicum of prestige, respect, and cultural revitalization is not to be dismissed lightly.
Tourist art influences the image of indigenous people in the eyes of the rest of the world at least as much as
what they actually do in some remote and forgotten homeland or reservation (Grabum 1976:5, 23, 26, 31 ).
And it is the tourist art market that has, in fact, provided a model for the commercialization of art (Wollen
1990:43-60).
But art galleries in this research, the majority of which carry both fine art and tourist art, do
not see indigenous tourist art as corrupted. In fact, there seems to be a genuine respect for this art form, and
the role it plays in creating economic opportunities for artists, as the co-director of Hogarth Galleries in
Sydney illustrates:
If we didn't have Aboriginal tourist art what else would Australia have? I mean the quality is incredibly good and it provides an industry for Aboriginal communities when there are very few others. It's got incredible variety, the standards are good, it's quite well priced. It still has some integrity to it because they [buyers] demand a story, no matter how small the carving. And they get one. We're not disparaging of it at all.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 60
My sense is that artists' agency plays an important part in this corporate acceptance of
indigenous tourist art. Not only do artists actively engage with issues that concern them but they also want
to present a positive indigenous image in Australia, as shown below. This is likely to be sustainable through
artists' continued engagement and the integrity of the Aboriginal art industry itself. Leeanne, an
independent artist and Peta-Joy, an Eora Arts student, in Sydney, illustrate:
I think doing art is one of the most powerful tools for educating non-indigenous people to what we're about, as far as value systems and our culture. And J think education is something we can all use to break down barriers. And being an artist in the city is a powerful tool for breaking down these barriers. [Leeanne]
Being an Aboriginal urban artist means expressing everything in a positive way. I could be sitting at the top ofEverleigh Street, drunk, a needle in my arm. But I'd rather do something positive for my people. Showing people that black people aren't bad, that we can do positive things, proving white society wrong. [Peta-Joy].
Leeanne suggests that perhaps the city could be seen as "a privileged site" but not in terms of
greater freedom and anonymity, as Kleinert (1992-93:44-45) suggests, but more in terms of educating the
wider public about the positive side of Aboriginality. This notion is also carried on by Peta-Joy. But Peta-
Joy also conveys an interesting point: the idea of choice. Aboriginal people do have choices as she so well
articulates: "I could be sitting at the top ofEverleigh Street, drunk, a needle in my arm. But I'd rather do
something positive for my people."
Art and Identity Relationship
Iconography, Media, Themes, and Valuing Forms
Artists use different iconography, media, and themes to express who they are, their
connections, and their communities. They also emphasize a mix of valuing forms (cultural hybridity,
authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional group identity) which are broad indicators of the
ways they form their identities. To a degree, their choices are influenced by their different geographic
locations (a small mid-north coast township and a cosmopolitan urban centre) and contexts (whether
they're cooperative-based, independent, at the Eora Arts Centre, or an inmate at the correctional centre), so
there's some diversity. But there are common patterns as well.
In the mid-north coast ofNSW and Sydney, most artists use the iconography of traditional
symbols, such as circles, dots, lines, x-rays, mimi-style figures, but they articulate a variety of reasons for
their use. For some, these symbols authenticate the Aboriginality of their art forms, and themselves. Others
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 61
create their own meanings for these symbols and don't necessarily see them as authenticating their
Aboriginality. Also, artists use the media of acrylic paints, canvas, and boards, although some in the
cooperative also use silk. In Sydney, some independent artists paint on pottery as well as canvas. And
artists in the small township of Forster draw on different themes to those in urban Sydney, and the different
contexts show diversity as well. But artists' use of animals as a totemic or food source is fairly universal.
Cooperative artists in the mid-north coast ofNSW don't show common patterns in the ways
they emphasize valuing forms. Half emphasize cultural hybridity and authenticity, along with pan
Aboriginality and/or a local or regional group identity. The other half are spread widely, emphasizing a
diverse mix of valuing forms (appendix IV Table 1). In contrast, there's a common pattern in their art
forms to emphasize animals, birds, and sea life of the local area (Figure 1). Also, socio-economic data for
this group of artists (appendix IV Table 2) show homogenizing attributes: the majority are in their 40s, live
on the Mission, and their sources of income largely come from the CDEP program, in combination with
sale of their art and royalties. When I ask cooperative artists whether they see themselves as individual
artists or artists that are part of a group, most respond they see themselves as individuals, even if they are
part of a group. This could explain their emphases on a diverse mix of valuing forms.
In contrast, independent artists in the mid-north coast ofNSW do show more common
patterns in the ways they emphasize valuing forms -more than half emphasize cultural hybridity and
authenticity, along with pan-Aboriginality and/or a local or regional group identity. The rest emphasize
these except for authenticity (appendix IV Table 1). Their art forms draw on the same themes as the
cooperative, as well as a connection to land, bushtucker, and food sources (Figure 2). Also, socio-economic
data for this group (appendix IV Table 2) show homogenizing attributes: all artists live outside a Mission,
are in the 30s-40s age range, and the majority have jobs, with art sales supplementing their income.
There are also common patterns for the groups in Sydney. Most independent artists emphasize
cultural hybridity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional group identity (appendix IV Table 1). But the
themes of their art forms are diverse- animals, bushtucker, wildflowers, stories of the land and earth,
colour, children and babies, and health issues (Figure 3). Also, socio-economic data for this group
(appendix IV Table 2) show diversity in their social and cultural histories, influenced by their past
geographical locations - the Western Desert area, the northern state of Queensland, western NSW, the north
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 62
coast ofNSW, and urban Sydney. Also influential, for some, are their frequent movements through
different locations, and for others, their early childhoods on a Mission. Today, they all live in the wider
urban area of Sydney, and their sources of income are mostly from art sales and royalties with a few who
work outside the art industry. Adam H., an independent artist in Sydney, with an Aboriginal heritage he
says is "quite fragmented," talks on the themes he paints:
Often the themes are children and babies. And the reason being I've been involved with children in the Education Department. I've seen the beauty of Aboriginal children, in all children in general, but specifically in Aboriginal children who have been getting caught between the "eight-ball." And it's my intention to exaggerate the beauty of these children and to get the public more accustomed in accepting Aboriginal children for who they are and considering their complexity. Most often I carry representation in skin colour more evidently showing that this is an Aboriginal child. On the odd occasion in my painting, the skin colour might become a little lighter, but generally I don't know why I do that. I do believe strongly that I most certainly have the tools to convey my most inner feelings and thoughts. And I strongly believe that my relatives, especially my indigenous relatives, walk with me, so there must be some influence from there.
At the Eora Arts Centre in Sydney, most art students emphasize cultural hybridity and a local
or regional group identity (appendix IV Table 1). Also, the socio-economic data for art students (appendix
IV Table 2) show homogenizing attributes: they now live in the inner-city area of Sydney, having all
experienced life, at some time, in a country town ofNSW; they all rely on income from the Abstudy
program; and they're all single. And, despite the wide age range (20s- 50s), they share a common theme of
trying to make something of themselves in spite of their social and cultural histories of somewhat painful
and disrupted lives (although, to varying degrees, this seems to be a common theme for all artists in this
research). Those students who share their stories with me talk of significant losses and sadnesses, and, in
some cases, anger and resentment toward the white Australian government. In contrast, their art forms are
diverse, depicting landscapes (bush and city), black/white relationships, portraits, animals and birds from
dreams, children, the "old-ways" of Aboriginal society and culture in terms of medicine, hunting, warfare,
love, feeling, and rhythm of dancing (Figure 4). Cecil, an art student at Eora Arts Centre in Sydney (and
one of the "Stolen Children" - Chapter 7) talks on the themes for his art work:
I draw on the black/white relationships in my art, as well as landscapes. For example, I had a big old ship like Captain Cook's in the ocean and on the river bank I had these Aboriginals throwing spears at it. And I said "What Price Victory?" Before I came to Eora I did sceneries and portrait work. But I don't do that now. It's more political ones.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 63
In Sydney the inmate in the art program at the correctional centre emphasizes the four valuing
forms (appendix IV Table 1). His art forms emphasize animals, spiritual icons, the city, and relatives who
have passed away.
Artists, Their Art Forms, and Identity
Most artists seem to form their identities by drawing on their social, cultural, political, and
economic histories and experiences. So they're emphasizing a mix of the four valuing forms. But there are
a few artists whose identities seem to be constrained, in varying degrees, by a burdensome environment.
They emphasize the valuing form of authenticity and not cultural hybridity. In effect, they're essentializing
''traditional" life ways and art forms, seeing this as a way for them to authenticate their Aboriginality. But
artists aren't static in their emphases: there's a sense of fluidity as they shift back and forth between the
valuing forms, depending on certain circumstances and situations in which they fmd themselves. Even
when artists emphasize authenticity they're also emphasizing pan-Aboriginality and/or a local or regional
group identity, so their ways of seeing themselves tend to be more fluid, and certainly not fixed.
Important indicators of Aboriginal self-identification can be seen in the term "Aboriginality"
from a pan-Aboriginal identity to a more local or regional group identity. So it's not surprising that all
artists in this research emphasize these valuing forms (with a mix of other valuing forms). Half emphasize
pan-Aboriginality and a local or regional group identity; the other half emphasize one or the other valuing
form.
Pan-Aboriginal identity is essential in building solidarity among a minority population and
endowing it with political force in the Australian nation-state. But it can also downplay the emphasis placed
by many Aboriginals on the uniqueness of their own small community, language group, or extended kin
group (Tonkinson 1990:215). Rather than choosing one identity over another, it's possible that artists hold
inclusive and exclusive views about themselves, so that emphasizing the two valuing forms might help to
sustain each of them. On the other hand, by emphasizing one valuing form, this could mean artists follow
Mudrooroo's argument (1996) and move in a more linear fashion from a basic and local awareness of one's
indigenality (emphasizing a local or regional group identity) towards a broader Australian indigenous
identity (emphasizing pan-Aboriginality). Mudrooroo's story ofKJ shows how the emphasis on only one of
these valuing forms is an artist's natural progression in self-identification:
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 64
KJ spent his boyhood in the Sydney suburb of Balmain and was therefore a Sydney Koori. He was also part of another "mob" - the group who live in the New South Wales country town ofMinimbah, which he always regarded as his country. KJ says that his full-blood paternal.grandmother lived in Minimbah. KJ declares about his grandmother: "She lived on a small settlement with an unbroken Koori tradition near a 40,000-year-old midden." What that tradition means is further explained: "I travelled with her to the settlements and missions around Forster, visiting relatives, and she instilled in me a sense of being Aboriginal, a feeling for the land, an awareness of the old ways and customs, an idea of a community." Travelling over the land corresponds to the old rites of passage when the boy was taken over the land to get to know it. It was only after he learnt about being an indigenous person, a Koori, from his paternal grandmother that KJ was then ready to move beyond his area and embrace an Australia-wide indigenality, though still continuing to be based on three elements: descent, love of country, and attachment to community (1996: 12-17).
I don't discount Mudrooroo's argument of a linear progression. But I think it's more likely
that artists in this research tend to shift back and forth in a fluid way between the two valuing forms.
Some artists choose to identify with pan-Aboriginality rather than a local or regional group
affiliation. They're involved in political organizations. And they articulate current concerns for Aboriginal
people, such as education, within a growing multi-cultural Australia. Their art forms draw on themes from
the Aboriginal past and on shared experiences of oppression. They also reflect issues such as the
environment, health, land rights, respect for traditional Aboriginal culture, and pride in their Aboriginal
identity (Figure 5). Brett, a cooperative artist, illustrates:
I identify myself as an Aboriginal. Have Aboriginal parents, Aboriginal grand parents, Dutch and Chinese great grandparents. I used to go to a lot of Aboriginal Land Rights Marches. Stolen Generation affected parts of my family - older Aunt was nearly 20 years before she came back to the family. I like to know what's going on.
Others choose to identify with their specific local or regional identity such as the "Koori"
identity label, or even a further marker such as "Wiradjuri" denoting a tribe or language name. Their art
forms depict artists' "Aboriginal" locations and cultural histories. They draw on sea and birdlife that are
representations of this location. Political interests play a part but are more shaped by local factors. Mandy,
a cooperative artist, and Peta-Joy, an arts student at Eora Arts Centre in Sydney, illustrate:
I identify myself as a Koori. Mother's father is Scot. Mother's mum was taken away and put in a Girls' Home. Dad's side are Aboriginals from Rollands Plains. I don't get involved in political concerns for Aboriginal people. But I could easily do that later on. The more you become aware of, the more you want to do to try and change things. There's still a long way to go for Koori people to be accepted as equals, you know. [Mandy]
I identify as Aboriginal, Koori, Native Australian. I'm not half-caste. I'm not part this or part that. I'm Aboriginal. You either are or you aren't. I've got traditional Scottish descendancy but I identify as an Aboriginal. My family originate from
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 65
Trangie, past Dubbo area, which makes our tribe Wiradjuri. My great great grandmother was a medicine woman, really respected in town. They were the only Aboriginal family in town. I recently found out that my skin name means a Top-Notch Pigeon, which is like our tribal totem. The area my family is from is lovely and quiet .... I was brought up by my grandmother on my mother's side. I was brought up Koori. It was something to be proud of. [Peta-Joy]
And others, such as SB (an independent artist in the mid-north coast ofNSW) and Pam (an
independent artist in Sydney), identify with both valuing forms:
I generally label myself as being Koori, but I think there shouldn't be that much emphasis on differences. There shouldn't be so much labeling of people. I was adopted by a white family. I didn't know of my Aboriginality until I was 30, when I searched for my Aboriginal mother. I'm registered to vote. Vote at every election, looking at what they can do for Aboriginal people. The political system in Australia is still putting Aboriginal people down.[SB]
I identify as a Koori, but mostly as an Aboriginal Australian. My grandfather was an activist in the 1930s and 1940s. I've always had a very strong Aboriginal influence, not only by my grandfather but by my grandmother, right throughout my life. I'm a descendent of the Bundjalung nation of the far north coast ofNSW. I'm very much involved in political concerns for Aboriginal people because it's in the blood. My grandfather was an activist and he paved the way for such people as Charlie Perkins. I'm concerned about the conditions of the Aboriginal people- health, education, women's issues, housing. [Pam]
A majority of artists emphasize the valuing form of cultural hybridity (with a mix of other
valuing forms) in forming their identities. This is expected because these artists are of mixed Aboriginal
heritage, often estranged from some ideal of"authentic" traditions and belief systems oftheir culture. So
they're mixing values and ideas from Western and "traditional" Aboriginal cultures, for their life ways and
art forms. There are also a few artists who say they draw on the two cultural influences in order to empower
Aboriginal people, sometimes through the use of mimicry, irony, self-reflexivity, paradox, or allegory in
their art forms (Figure 6). This follows Bhabha's idea that "cultural hybridity has the potential to reverse
the structures of domination in the colonial situation" (1995:206). Richard, an independent artist in Sydney,
illustrates:
Because I come from a product of two cultures, I use postmodern symbols and I use dots, cross-hatching just to dress it up .... [The themes] are the impressions of Aboriginal people, and at times I reverse the roles as much as I can. I attempt to empower Aboriginal people in my work.
A small number of artists emphasize authenticity but not cultural hybridity. They say
''traditional" motif.c; or "signifiers of authenticity" in their art forms authenticate their work as "Aboriginal,"
or make them feel more "Aboriginal." They draw upon symbols or images that are well associated with the
''traditional" aspects of Aboriginality (such as dots, circles, cross-hatching, and mimi figures). They're not
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 66
reflecting their local or regional symbols or images either because they don't seem to exist or they're not
aware of them (Figure 7). Shane, an independent artist in Sydney, illustrates:
I do urban traditional art. Makes you think about the Dreamtime. I use the circles, the dots. I do traditional symbols. The circles represent our sacred places, all our ceremonies. But dots have got a lot to do with Aboriginal art. It's the main feature of Aboriginal art. Using these symbols makes me feel better because it is traditional and it is Aboriginal art. I do traditional paintings.
The majority of artists who emphasize cultural hybridity are spread between those who
emphasize cultural hybridity and authenticity (40 percent) (Figure 8) and those who emphasize cultural
hybridity and not authenticity (55 percent) (Figure 9). In both cases, they're mixing values and ideas from
Western and ''traditional" Aboriginal cultures. In the former group, they're also drawing on ''traditional"
motifs to authenticate themselves and their work as "Aboriginal." RP and Mandy, both cooperative artists
in the mid-north coast ofNSW, and Graeme, an arts student at Eora Arts Centre in Sydney, illustrate:
My art is coastal urban contemporary Aboriginal art. I draw on dots and circles from traditional art out West. Aboriginals everywhere have adopted these traditional motifs. I also use a diverse range of paints, canvases, boards. People today are looking for something Aboriginal but it also has to have an element of W estemization. Drawing on the traditional symbols gives you that Aboriginal look. Here we draw on the sea and animals from here, but we're really drawing a lot from traditional art as well. [RP]
My art is very contemporary style art. I draw on people sitting around campsites, animal tracks, some traditional symbols, but mainly more contemporary. I guess the symbols do authenticate my work as Aboriginal- 90 percent of the population will identify Aboriginal art work as traditional symbols, whether it's dot work or other symbols. I use lots of bright colours but I mainly use the blues and turquoises because that's where I live. What influences me is the ocean, lakes, colours of the sea [Mandy]
I work with dot art mixed with formal renaissance surreal. I don't see my work as urban- I don't draw on houses, man-made products. I show the land and what's in the land. I draw on mimi-style figures. I can't help drawing these figures. It creates the Aboriginality in my work. I've experimented with spheres 'cause I see the planets and the stars as dot art. Everything above us is dot art, it's knowledge. My themes are the old ways, medicine, hunting, warfare, love, feeling, the rhythm of dancing - all important issues in Aboriginal society and culture. What makes my art authentic are the mimi figures, the dot art, and the fact that it's painted by me, Aboriginal man, Koori man, from the Biripai land. [Graeme]
In the latter group, some artists still draw on "traditional" motifs in their art forms, but they
say use of these symbols does not necessarily authenticate their Aboriginality. In fact, they often put their
own meanings into these symbols. Others draw on ''traditional" motifs ''just for dressing it [the art form]
up." They say because they're Aboriginal their art forms are Aboriginal. And others don't draw on
"traditional" motifs, seeing them as unnecessary for showing who they are. Kelvin, a cooperative artist in
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 67
the mid-north coast ofNSW, and Richard and Pam, both independent artists in Sydney, and Cecil, an arts
student at Eora Arts Centre in Sydney, illustrate:
I paint real urban Aboriginal art. I paint all the natural areas around Forster, Tuncurry, and Coomba. I paint the middens, the animals, the fish, and the tucker [food] around the area. I draw on the feeding grounds and sacred sites which my grandmother told me, plus a lot of old spiritual stories that have been passed down. I'm painting my tribal area. I'm painting about something I know about, how I grew up and my people grew up, hunting and gathering and living off the land. I use acrylics, not ochres from the desert, and canvas. I paint everything connected to the land animals, ocean, rocks, sea, shells, sources of tucker. [Kelvin]
My art is mainly mixed media works. It's political. I try to analyze Australian society, how they deal with us Aboriginal people. I'll take circles, symbols from Aboriginal art, and get letters from the alphabets, Arabic numbers, Roman numerals, dollar symbols, anchors, crosses, anything, 'cause I'm a product of two cultures. I use dots, cross-hatching just to dress it up. I use these symbols because I'm proud of being Aboriginal, it doesn't authenticate my work as Aboriginal. I could do this art without using any Aboriginal imagery at all. I don't give a shit whether I use not one Aboriginal symbol. That to me is authentic Aboriginal art. The subject matter is Aboriginal. Some of my art are very painful, passionate pieces. Others I have tended to be quite brutal with humour and satire. [Richard]
I'm a contemporary artist. My art is vibrant colours, and reflects the flora and fauna of Australia, particularly the area I come from. I use a dot formation that doesn't really reflect anything but enhances the image I'm painting. But it has really no significance It feels right as an Aboriginal artist for me to use it. [Pam] ·
Because of my upbringing, my art is mostly protest art against white society. I don't draw on traditional symbols. I look at it this way. I'm Aboriginal. The art I do is Aboriginal, whether I use traditional symbols or not. I draw on the black/white relationships in my art, as well as landscapes- it's a beautiful country. [Cecil]
The theoretical framework I'm working with (Ashcroft et al. 1995, 1998) presents the ideas of
cultural hybridity and authenticity as largely oppositional. And the data seem to support this. The majority
of artists in this research (most independent artists and art students at the Eora Arts Centre in Sydney and
half of the artists in the cooperative in the mid-north coast ofNSW) emphasize cultural hybridity and not
authenticity. But we see a less oppositional relationship in the mid-north coast ofNSW where most artists
(half of the cooperative artists and a majority of independent artists) emphasize cultural hybridity and
authenticity. Also, in Sydney, the inmate (from the South Coast ofNew South Wales, ofWiradjuri
heritage) in the art program at Long Bay Correctional Centre and a small number of art students emphasize
both valuing forms.
I argue here that more nuanced interpretations of the ideas of cultural hybridity and
authenticity should take into account the ambiguities and contradictions in the ways artists form their
identities. They're emphasizing a mix of valuing forms that include pan-Aboriginality and/or a local or
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 68
regional group identity, not just cultural hybridity and/or authenticity. And they're shifting back and forth
between these valuing forms. So their emphases are not neatly compartmentalised, static, or fixed, but more
fluid. These movements soften the edges ofthe perceived oppositionality, allowing for less definitive and
more fluid ways of interpreting these ideas.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 69
Figure 1. Cooperative Artist's Art Form. An artist from the mid-north coast ofNSW (MNCNSW) shows sea life of the local area. According to T.J., the artist of"Dolphin Mullet Feeding," this painting shows the feeding ground of the dolphin. The skeleton of the mullet represents a time when mullets were more plentiful. (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 70
Figure 2. MNCNSW Independent Artist's Art Form. Michele's "Hunting and Gathering" shows connections to land, animals, bush tucker and food sources. She says: "A lot of my ideas are based on the traditional rock art. A lot ofthe colours I use are from the flowers, or bush tucker, that grow in the country. I do a fair bit of the hand stencilling because that's where the first rock art that I ever saw had the hand stencilling on it." (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 71
Figure 3. Sydney Independent Artist's Art Form showing a concern for health issues. Debra says: "The figure represents a spiritual woman. Would have been my mother because she's a very active and spiritual woman, and she came with this disease all of a sudden. Her kidneys failed, and it just took everything away from this active woman to a woman who couldn't do anything. It has been six years now since the disease started. I hope, with this art work, to promote attention to Aboriginal people with diseases. My father is a diabetic as well. I mean 'promotion' in that Aboriginals should take more care oftheir bodies. Our culture was to look after our body. We ate all the right foods, back then, like the seeds and that. Today's foods are killing them. And the alcohol and the drugs.... I wrote to Dr. Chapman, who's Director ofthe Renal Section in Westmead [hospital]. My mum told me about him. She met him there at the hospital. And I asked him if they wanted to use the painting to promote the Aboriginal in the Renal Unit and he wrote back, yes, they would like to have it to promote Aboriginals with kidney diseases." (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 72
Figure 4. Sydney Eora Arts Centre Artist's Art Form. Peta-Joy's painting depicts children and the contemporary and traditional toys. This work was done by her with her siblings, and signifies a traditional way of working. It's the process of painting with her siblings (Riki is 2 years old, Krystal is 7 years old, and Laurence is 12 years old) that intrigues her, somehow going back to traditional ways of working with family members on rock paintings. (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 73
Figure 5. Pan-Aboriginality Art Form. Cecil's art form (Sydney Eora Arts Centre Artist) shows "pan Aboriginality" since it articulates current concerns for Aboriginal people, such as the environment and respect for traditional Aboriginal culture. In this art form, Cecil shows the atomic bomb testing in Central Australia, on traditional lands, and the loss of land (and indigenous livelihoods) through this testing. He fears the Government did not warn the indigenous population of this testing, and that possibly lives were lost that have never been accounted for. (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 74
Figure 6. Cultural Hybridity Art Form- Empowering Aboriginal People. Richard's (Sydney Independent Artist) "Crisis: what to do about this half-caste thing?" emphasizes "cultural hybridity." He's mixing values and ideas from Western and ''traditional" Aboriginal cultures. But he's also drawing on these cultural influences in order to empower Aboriginal people. He layers images and ideas - layering images from different histories, deconstructing it in order to piece it together from an alternate perspective, often creating a hybrid space that becomes culturally empowering. (See write-up in Chapter 2) (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 75
Figure 7. Authenticity Art Form. s (Sydney Independent Artist) art work emphasizes "authenticity" since he says "traditional" motifs or "signifiers of authenticity" authenticate his work as "Aboriginal," or make him feel more "Aboriginal." He's drawing on symbols or images that are well associated with the "traditional" aspects of Aboriginality (such as dots and circles). He's not reflecting his local or regional symbols or images either because they don't seem to exist or he's not aware of them. Shane says "I just want to tell you about this painting I've done in the jail system when I was inside. This is Aboriginal urban art, with traditional symbols in it. It comes from within, spiritual sort of thing. For instance, we've got the blues going around, that represents the rivers that break up the different jails. You've got Bathurst Jail, you've got Goulburn Jail, you've got Maitland Jail, and you've got Lithgow Jail. They represent the rivers you cross to get from one jail to another. This big one here in the middle, this big one is Long Bay Jail. That's where we all go, that's the meeting place where we all come together. And these symbols, these red symbols, these circles, they represent our elders that look after the younger Aboriginal people that come into the system. Show them the ropes of the system. These horse-shoe symbols, they represent each person, how we all gather and come together. In Aboriginal traditional paintings, the circle and the horse-shoe represent a meeting place, so this represents one big meeting place where we all come together. And these spiritual-looking people, they're our people that have died in the system. They represent 'black deaths in custody.' And these crosses and stars they represent the light to freedom. Like one day you will see the light. You're going into a tunnel when you start here, and when you get close to the end of your time, you see this light. That's all I have to say about the painting. It's called 'inside spirits'- it's like 'inmate's inside jail spirits."' (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 76
Figure 8. Cultural Hybridity and Authenticity Art Fonn. Mandy's (Cooperative Artist) art fonn emphasizes "cultural hybridity and authenticity" since she's drawing on the two cultural influences (Western and Aboriginal) but she's also drawing on ''traditional" motifs to authenticate herself and her work as "Aboriginal." Mandy's art fonn "River of Platypus" displays a male and female platypus guarding the nest of young in the river bank. It shows sea life of the local area as well. (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 77
Figure 9. Cultural Hybridity and not Authenticity Artform. Pam's (Sydney Independent Artist) art work emphasizes "cultural hybridity and not authenticity." She says that even though she's drawing on "traditional" motifs in her art work, use of these symbols don't necessarily authenticate her Aboriginality. For this art work she says the "dot fonnation doesn't really reflect anything but enhances the image I'm painting. But it has really no significance. It feels right as an Aboriginal artist for me to use it." (Reprinted courtesy of the artist)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTERS
THE SITE OF CIRCULATION
The site of circulation is where all the players in the Aboriginal urban art world can interact -
the artist-producer, the circulator (including the artists' cooperative, gallery, retail outlet, and design
licensing company), and the consumer. These interactions make this a dynamic and constantly changing
site. In this chapter, I explore the co-optation of Aboriginal culture and the consequences for Aboriginal
people. Also, T look for ways circulators represent Aboriginal art by examining the mix of valuing forms
they draw on to promote, market, and teach Aboriginal urban artists.
Co-optation of Aboriginal Culture
Fourmile (1994:74) says that mainstream agencies, both public and private, co-opt and
institutionalise Aboriginal culture. They then act as the interpreters and mediators to the general public on
all things to do with Aboriginal culture and the arts. Thus, Aboriginal communities are unable to represent
or interpret their cultures on their own terms and in their own ways to others. This severely limits their
ability to participate in a multicultural Australia. She points out that Aboriginal people still remain a people
spoken for by others, the consequences of which, in terms of their arts, have been succinctly outlined by
Loretta Todd [1992], a Native American Indian (Metis):
But what of our own theories of art, our own philosophies of life, our own purposes of representation? By reducing our cultural expressions to simply the question of modernism or postmodemism, art or anthropology, or whether we are contemporary or traditional, we are placed on the edge of the dominant culture, while the dominant culture determines whether we are allowed to enter its realm of art. When we assert our own meanings and philosophies of representation we render the divisions irrelevant, and maintain our Aboriginal right to name ourselves. However, when we articulate the dichotomy ofthe traditional versus the contemporary, we are referencing the centre, acknowledging the authority of the ethnographer, the anthropologist, the art historian, the cultural critic, the art collector. We have to play "catch up" to the academic and other institutions of art, and we set up an opposition within our own communities that keeps [us] in our position of"other." We are caught in the grasp of neocolonialism, in the gaze of the connoisseur or consumer, forever trapped in a process that divides and conquers (Fourmile 1994:80).
Perkins and Fink (1997:60-63) say that over the last century Aboriginal imagery has been
78
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 79
appropriated consistently as a "marker of Australian identity," while Aboriginal people remain shadowy
figures in the national consciousness. But Langton (1992-93:9) thinks it is na'ive and racist to view the
acceptance and popularity of Aboriginal art as simply hegemonic appropriation. This view accords no
intention to the Aboriginal artists who make explicit the project of communicating their own view of the
world with others. To theorize that their works have been appropriated in some deterministic way is to fail
to see and locate their power. In her view, they have, in fact, changed the way non-Aboriginal people think
about things. Perhaps Langton is correct in articulating the possibilities of empowerment in this situation.
Nevertheless, in every cultural appropriation there are those who act and those who are acted upon (and all
kinds of mutually-constituting practices in-between). For those whose memories and cultural identities are
manipulated by aesthetic, academic, economic, or political appropriations the consequences can be
disquieting or painful (Nelson 1996:127). Importantly, cultural appropriation signifies not only the taking
up of something and making it one's own but also the ability to do so. Culture is neatly packaged for the
consumer's convenience. Because ofthe political implications of appropriation and the way such concepts
link up to institutions such as museums, art galleries, and universities, the term has, in some instances, been
the subject ofbitter debate (Root 1996:72).
Certainly colonial powers in the past have exercised a dominant role in the Aboriginal art
market. And it is likely, as Ashcroft et al. suggest (1995:463-64), that neo-colonial powers continue to
exercise such a role. We need to be aware of the processes of patronage and control by which the colonial
and neo-colonial powers continue to exercise a dominant role in selecting, licensing, promoting, and
exhibiting art forms of the postcolonial world, and the degree to which the inscriptive practices, choice of
form, subject matter, and genre is also subject to such control. Who consumes and produces the art forms
for the "postcolonial" world? Who acquires them and has them available as objects is linked to the agency
of the "postcolonial" artist. Clifford's advice remains relevant: we need to criticize and transform the
relations of power whereby one portion of humanity can select, value, and collect the pure products of
others (1988:213).
Despite my sense that neo-colonial powers do continue to exercise a significant role in the
Aboriginal art market, this research also points up Aboriginal urban artists increasingly gaining control of
their cultures and their art, largely through their own efforts. A number of urban artists seek control over
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 80
their "tourist" art forms by questioning demands placed on them by design licensing companies (Chapter
7). And, largely through artists' agency, art galleries in this research seem to have a genuine respect for the
tourist art form, and the role it plays in creating economic opportunities for artists (Chapter 4).
Also, there is a movement in Sydney, largely initiated by Aboriginal leaders, for NSW
Aboriginal artists to be represented in corporate offices, rather than the widespread representation of remote
area Aboriginal artists. The Archivist for Parliament House in Sydney says they now have a wall at
Parliament House in the main entrance lobby "dedicated to be a permanent area for the exhibition and
display of art works by Aboriginal people. The criterion is Aboriginal art from NSW." And, in an effort to
move beyond the "marginalized" indigenous image in Australia, the CEO of the NSW Aboriginal Lands
Council says it's time that indigenous people not be seen always as "victims" to the international
community. She says: "There are Aboriginal people actively moving beyond that image, and largely
accomplishing these steps by themselves." Our need to move beyond the image of indigenous people in
Australia as all marginalized and always marginalized seems even more pertinent when Ashcroft et al.
argue (1998: 136) the term "marginalized" always involves the risk that it endorses the structure that
established the marginality of certain groups in the first place.
Patterns of Circulation
To some degree, circulators' emphases on certain valuing forms, in the promoting, marketing,
and teaching of Aboriginal urban artists, seem consistent with those artists they represent. But there are
some inconsistencies. In the mid-north coast ofNSW, the cooperative/gallery emphasizes the valuing forms
of cultural hybridity and a local or regional group identity. In Sydney, the two retail tourist shops that
market art forms by artists from the cooperative, Gavala Aboriginal Cultural Centre and the Rainbow
Serpent Art Gallery, both emphasize the valuing forms of cultural hybridity and a local or regional group
identity, but the latter also emphasizes the valuing form of authenticity (appendix IV, Table 3). And the
design licensing venture working with the cooperative emphasizes the valuing form of authenticity
(Chapter 7). These emphases are not fully consistent with artists in the cooperative who tend to emphasize
a more diversified mix of valuing forms (Chapter 4).
In Sydney, Coo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery and Hogarth Galleries also emphasize the valuing
forms of cultural hybridity and a local or regional group identity, the latter emphasizing pan-Aboriginality
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 81
as well (appendix TV, Table 3). These valuing forms are, to a large degree, consistent with those of
independent artists in Sydney who tend to emphasize cultural hybridity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or
regional group identity. Only one artist emphasizes authenticity rather than cultural hybridity in
combination with pan-Aboriginality and a local or regional group identity. And the art teacher at Eora Arts
Centre emphasizes cultural hybridity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional group identity (appendix
IV, Table 3). These valuing forms are, to some degree, consistent with those of art students who tend to
emphasize cultural hybridity and a local or regional group identity. Again, only two artists emphasize
cultural hybridity and authenticity in combination with a local or regional group identity (Chapter 4).
Research shows the art program at the correctional centre is not based on ''traditional
Aboriginal" art teaching largely because the inmates are nationally and culturally mixed. But Aboriginal
inmates in the art program are encouraged to explore, through their art, their cultures and "traditions" as a
first step in the rehabilitation process. This often results in some early art forms embracing a somewhat
"traditional" image. The teacher of the art program at Long Bay Correctional Centre, who also manages the
Boom Gate Art Gallery at the correctional centre, emphasizes the four valuing forms (appendix IV, Table
3). This is consistent with the inmate artist (Chapter 4).
Circulators and Representations of Aboriginality
The ways in which circulators emphasize certain valuing forms for promoting, marketing, and
teaching Aboriginal urban artists shape and reflect representations of Aboriginal urban art. By emphasizing
a mix of valuing forms, circulators are art by appreciating art forms which show the ways artists draw from
their social, cultural, political, and economic histories and experiences.
All circulators in this research emphasize the valuing form of a local or regional group
identity, such as "Koori." The art forms they promote depict distinctive regional elements, such as sea
animals, birdlife, or an event or important site representative of a particular location and its cultural history.
Three circulators (Eora Arts Centre, Hogarth Galleries, and the Art Program at Long Bay Correctional
Centre) also emphasize pan-Aboriginality. Their art forms reflect issues of concern to Aboriginal people,
such as the environment, health, land rights, respect for traditional Aboriginal culture, alienation,
discrimination in white Australian society, and pride in their Aboriginal identity. John Weate, the manager
at Tobwabba Art illustrates the complexities involved:
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 82
The themes are of this area- very nature-oriented, abundant wildlife. Most of the people are out in the bush. You can see kangaroos, goannas, birds, pelicans They [artists] think about the animals around them, the colours, the plants, about Aboriginality and that experience that's talking about travelling, family, destruction and the horrible contact with white people. So put all that together and see what happens.
Sue Paull, the teacher for the art program at Long Bay Correctional Centre, describes two
inmates' art works, the frrst showing a local or regional affiliation and the second a pan-Aboriginal
connection:
This is an aerial tryptich of Cabbage Tree Island. These sort of warm grey circles are his depiction of the settlement, where the community resides, and the larger one in the middle is the church.
One inmate, WKB, did a painting about Redfern and 'shooting-up' in the back lane And there was a police car in the next block. And it was clearly identifiable as Redfern because it had the two big T&T Towers. The whole manner in which it was painted was quite rough and there was this immediacy which was the seriousness of the subject For me it was incredible because it dealt with one of the social problems that contributes to most of the people being incarcerated, that is, drug problems. Those sort of issues relating to their existence both inside and outside the prison system interest me. I thought there would be more of it, but in reality it's only a sprinkling of inmates who have confronted a visual depiction of their life. For the majority, it just goes back to issues of representation Their prime concern is they want their Aboriginal identity to come through in their work. I can understand that because of all the social issues, the problems that they have had. They have earned respect through their work and that's what they tend to concentrate on.
All circulators also emphasize the valuing form of cultural hybridity. They're receptive to the
mixing of values and ideas from Western and ''traditional" Aboriginal cultures, for the artists and the art
forms they represent. The art coordinator at Tobwabba Art, the cooperative/gallery in the mid-north coast
ofNSW, illustrates:
Very urban ... it has evolved into a very colourful, bright, and vibrant style of art that is not always accepted as pure Aboriginal art. Artists are drawing on the dots (and) the circle shapes .... They're [artists] drawing on the imagery of the present and putting it into a contemporary Aboriginal form.
There's also a receptivity by some circulators to art forms that empower Aboriginal people
through the use of mimicry, irony, self-reflexivity, paradox, and allegory to subvert the dominant culture
(Ashcroft et al. 1995, 1998; Bhabha 1994). John Weate, the manager ofTobwabba Art, illustrates:
One painting (and there's a few on this theme) is a beach with little black turtles, coming out of the sand, and there's the seagull, looking down at the black turtles in the sand. There's this menacing sort of thing between the seagull and the turtle, the white and the black ....
In fact, Hogarth Galleries in Sydney points out their interest in the works of Ian Abdulla and
Robert Campbell (among others). Both these artists have created unique approaches that often challenge
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 83
the viewer, to make them uncertain as to whether to relish the images or be disturbed by the political
history to which they allude. In so doing they empower Aboriginal people, as Morphy's (1999) insight
illustrates:
The paintings of Ian W. Abdulla record scenes from his early life, growing up at Cobdogla on the Murray River. The paintings are humorous and descriptive, evoking a bygone era, sometimes recording harsh realities but always with a sense of laconic optimism The intrusion of Europeans is referred to in some of the inscriptions that routinely caption The paintings: "Catching Fish in the Back waters with a Gillnet for eating before the white man changed our way ofliving off the land and along the River Murray" (Morphy 1999:399).
The paintings of Robert Campbell, who grew up in northern New South Wales, document significant events in the history of Australia from an Aboriginal viewpoint.2 They represent, in a series of panels, events in his people's past or commentaries on contemporary issues. A characteristic feature of his paintings is the contrast between the bright optimism conveyed by the aesthetics of the paintings and the darkness of the themes they explore. The brilliant effect of multiple coloured dots characterizes both his work and the art of a number of other "urban" artists. Robert Campbell saw all his paintings fundamentally as narrative landscapes. On his return from Amhem Land in 1990 he wrote: "One of the greatest realizations was that all the paintings of the area were not of dreamings but images of landscape - in fact not very different from my own work" (Morphy 1999:397).
Two circulators, Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery and the art program at Long Bay Correctional
Centre, emphasize cultural hybridity and authenticity. I argue here, by emphasizing both valuing forms
circulators recognize this dynamic, changing art form that includes the social, cultural, political, and
economic histories and experiences of Aboriginal people. But these circulators also see it as appropriate for
artists to "essentialize" aspects of"traditional" art forms and ways of life since they're facing social and
cultural "gaps" in terms ofindigenality. Anthropologists Povinelli (1991), Jackson (1995), and Conklin
(1997) largely see the invoking of a "traditional culture" to validate "authenticity" in terms of political
gains for indigenous people. But, according to some circulators in this research, the invoking of
"traditional" elements in Aboriginal urban artists' art forms shows a social and cultural void in their lives
rather than a ploy for political gain. It could also be no more than an expression of Aboriginal identity.
2During my field work with Tobwabba Art in Forster, I met with Bob Campbell's widow , Eileen. She is a vibrant, dynamic lady and continues the work of her late husband in empowering Aboriginal people and educating the wider public on Aboriginal history in Australia. She travels around the country, showing slides of Bob Campbell's art work, stressing "the importance of talking about the past in order to move forward," and the importance of"sitting around the table and talking with family members." The titles of Bob Campbell's art works largely reveal the history of Australia from an Aboriginal's perpective, particularly the racist attitudes and practices that prevailed: "Learning About Culture," "Dog Tags," "Stolen Generation," "Movies," "Swimming Pool," "Ration Days," "Tent Embassy," "Drugs and Alcoho~" "Freedom March," and "Deaths in Custody."
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 84
To illustrate, the director of Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery and the art teacher at Long Bay
Correctional Centre say artists use dots, circles, cross~hatching, and other effects that are indicators of
"traditional" art forms because local symbols or images don't exist, or artists don't have access to, or know
about, such information. In light of the ruptured life existence of these artists and inmates, they see the
g"essentializing" of these "traditional" symbols as acceptable, although they're also sensitive to the
problems associated with "essentializing:"
We represent artists, individuals from Sydney, urban artists from Western New South Wales, craftspeople from Australia wide. It's incredibly diverse ~ stylistically and price range. They're drawing from the traditional, the iconography that was used in sand, carved on rock walls, transcribed onto canvas and using paints. We look for something that is obviously indigenous because our market is international The dots and circles have become theuniversal symbol of Aboriginality. It's important for urban artists to draw on these symbols, particularly since they've lost so much of their traditions through missionization and the attempted dedmation of the population. So I suppose it's something they can take as their own, as long as they're not directly plagiarising. [Director of Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery, Sydney]
This is one of those problematic Aboriginal inmate paintings where there is the use of "traditional" symbols and yet J. hasn't had a "traditional" upbringing. He comes from Wollongong. His mother's white. J. has a very strong design sense and this was clearly an attempt to want to be seen as an Aboriginal and not be identified with the white side of his family. And so it was very easy for him to come up with something that aesthetically is very beautiful. And he, through received information, put his own meanings to these symbols. Now, if you were a purist you would criticize that greatly. But it's that aspect of transformation that you have to acknowledge. It's really interesting. Society is not static. And you have so many ruptures and forces on these guys that you have to anticipate that they will be crossing the boundary .... The art has empowered indigenous inmates I've seen such a change in their confidence and their self~respect, and the way that Officers communicate with them. [Art Teacher at Long Bay Correctional Centre, Sydney]
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER6
THE SITE OF CONSUMPTION
The site of consumption is where our consumption patterns come into play - especially our
search for the "authentic" representation of Aboriginality, and, at times, ''the exotic." This site is vibrant.
And it constantly changes based on interactions at the sites of production and circulation. In this chapter, I
explore our consumption practices and their implications. Also, I examine consumers' emphases on a mix
of the four valuing forms, to look for ways they represent Aboriginal art.
Devouring of "The Exotic"
We are all interested in and curious about cultural differences. But Root says this can be
problematic when this interest in cultural differences is able to produce intense excitement and pleasure at
the cost of negating the people or culture that is the source of interest (1996:30). The key issue here is how
a culture comes to be aestheticized by people who have no stake in that community and in particular by
those who exercise authority over the culture or people being rendered exotic. Little {1996:920) quotes
Root as saying:
We swallow up others' lives and the signs of their lives- their things, ideas, and images for profitable self-fulfillment, spitting out all other contexts of understanding like bones. As such, other life worlds are treated with little respect as they are separated into palatable exotic parts for our consumption.
So Root (1996) largely sees our consumption practices as cannibalistic. Also, she points out
we still cling to the fantasies of power that colonised life worlds provided, even as the distinction between
the Western centre and the colonised periphery have been altered. The point is that notions of Western
cultural superiority continue to exist but are now articulated in a more insidious manner, for instance, in
how questions of aesthetic value are organized around consumption. In order to work, the objects that are
commodified and marketed as "cultural difference" are dependent on concepts of cultural and aesthetic
authenticity. Difference has to be seen as real (Root 1996:69-70).
85
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 86
We could argue here that Root raises a valid concern on the consequences for "others" of our
cannibalistic" consumption practices. But Little (1996:921) says that Root seems to ignore the subtle
nuances and ambiguities of life in the ambivalent and shifting zones of power and meaning between us and
them that bear upon identity production. He argues that Root says little about:
The way cultural others reinvent their pasts, simultaneously using and subverting their own exoticisms and turning the techniques of the gaze and the power-knowledge of colonizing systems of spectacalization to their own advantages.
According to postcolonial theorists, such as Ashcroft et al. ( 1998: 19), Bhabha (I 994 ), and Hutcheon
(1995:135), there are ways in which the dominated or colonized culture can use the tools of the dominant
discourse to resist its political or cultural control. Postcolonial theory largely focuses on an exploration of
these ways (Chapter 3). My research shows a few artists do seek to empower Aboriginal people by drawing
on the influences from Western and ''traditional" Aboriginal cultures and, in some cases, the use of
implicative expressions (for example, use of irony in art forms to disrupt or undermine notions of orthodox
history) (Chapter 4 and Figure 6).
Patterns of Consumption
Prior to field work, I expected that different forms of consumption would effect different
representations. I thought the Aboriginal consumer (whether the point of purchase was the
cooperative/gallery in Forster or a Sydney-based art gallery) would be more sensitive to and aware of
cultural and artistic differences within the Aboriginal art world, and therefore value cultural hybridity or a
local or regional group identity. On the other hand, the non-Aboriginal consumer might be somewhat
ambivalent to these cultural and artistic differences, and in his/her search for the consumption of
"excitement" would tend to value authenticity, in terms of an "authentic indigenous" product. Contrary to
my expectations, there is no clear differentiation between Aboriginal, non-Aboriginal, and overseas
consumers. Except for a few non-Aboriginal and overseas consumers, all groups seem to show a sensitivity
to and awareness of cultural and artistic differences within the Aboriginal art world.
Consumers and Representations of Aboriginality
The ways in which consumers emphasize certain valuing forms for indigenous artists, in their
search for "the exotic" or "authentic" representation of Aboriginality, shape and reflect representations of
Aboriginal urban art. A majority of consumers (both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, including overseas
visitors) value cultural hybridity and a local or regional group identity (for consumers at the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 87
cooperative/gallery in Forster) and cultural hybridity and pan-Aboriginality (for consumers in Sydney art
galleries) for indigenous artists (appendix IV Table 4). So they appreciate art forms which show the ways
artists draw from their social, cultural, political, and economic histories and experiences. Many consumer
responses are along the lines ofLes, an Aboriginal consumer in Sydney:
Most ofthe art I've got is a combination of contemporary images with traditional background such as dot painting and things like that.
Some consumers look for "social critique or engagement with events or issues" or "works
which challenge" so they're emphasizing a mix ofpan-Aboriginality and cultural hybridity. They are
reasonably knowledgeable about political discourse relevant to Aboriginal people in Australia. And they're
not afraid to purchase art forms that might draw on themes from the Aboriginal past and on shared
experiences of oppression. In some sense, then, we can see a significant shift from the perception in Myers'
(1995:76) study of Australian "traditional" indigenous artists, their art forms, and the wider "buying"
public:
What people like is a safe way to incorporate an element of Aboriginality. They won't be as interested in what the urban [Aboriginal] artists do. There is too much pain. People don't like "accusatory art." They want something they can feel more positive about, they can feel good about. They see buying the paintings as helping to preserve these existing cultures .... This ''traditional" Aboriginal art allows Australians to feel good about themselves. [Andrew Pekarik, personal communication with Myers, 1990]
Other consumers emphasize a local or regional aspect, as Azalia, an Aboriginal consumer
illustrates:
What attracted me was the symbol of my totem (the crocodile) in the natural state, without the traditional dots over the totem, as done by our clan group .... Just about everyone who's seen it for the first time loves it because it's what Aboriginal life is all about. It's very environmental, you know. To me, the crocodile species is a very aggressive species. It reminds me of when I'm doing business, and I get to the "hard sell," I stand out like a crocodile. It inspires me to not give up.
However, a few consumers (non-Aboriginal and overseas visitors, from both Forster and
Sydney) value authenticity alone. They're looking for "Aboriginal art," "original tribal work," or
''traditional art forms that reference traditional practices." So they appreciate Aboriginal urban art by
appreciating art forms which show the ways artists essentialize the traditional art forms and ways oflife to
authenticate their Aboriginality. This representation supports the image of Aboriginality as static and fixed,
not allowing for the artists' growth and development as conditions change. Also, this image doesn't take
into account the ambiguities, contradictions, and conflicts that are central to artists' identity formation in
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 88
this art world. The small numbers of artists who do emphasize authenticity also emphasize a local or
regional group identity and/or pan-Aboriginality. So these artists' ways of seeing themselves are more fluid
and less fixed than the image shared by these consumers. Interestingly, where the consumer emphasizes
authenticity there is an apparent correlation between this valuing form and the consumer's limited (or none)
familiarity with the artist, his/her community, and culture.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER 7
COMPLEXITIES FOR ARTISTS' IDENTITY FORMATION
Aboriginal urban artists face complexities that influence the ways they form their identities.
Stereotypical images of Aboriginality and racist attitudes towards Aboriginal people can confine the ways
they form their identities. But producers, circulators, and consumers, through their social and political
interactions, can also allow artists to freely form their identities. Nevertheless, sometimes co-optation
follows. And sometimes art market standards don't necessarily reflect the diversity of Aboriginal art forms
and ways of life. This can lead artists to diverge from their life stories and cultural traditions, which could
influence the outside world to perceive their work as "inauthentic."
The depth of these complexities may vary based on whether the artist is in a cooperative,
independent, an art student in an Aboriginal arts centre, or an inmate in an art program at a correctional
centre. Also important is the artist's location- in the mid-north coast ofNSW or in urban Sydney - and the
artist's social, cultural, political, and economic histories. A circulator's response to these complexities is
influenced by its functional identity- cooperative/gallery, art gallery, or art teaching practice in an
Aboriginal art centre and a correctional centre. It's also influenced by a circulator's geographic location - in
the small township of Forster or metropolitan Sydney. And a consumer's response is influenced by the
point of purchase- the cooperative/gallery in Forster or a Sydney-based art gallery.
Also of significance is the recent national policy of self-definition of identity. The currently
accepted official definition of an Aboriginal person is "someone of Aboriginal descent who identifies as
such and is recognized by their Aboriginal community to be so" (Horton 1994:3). Given the complexities
and ambiguities for identity formation in the Aboriginal urban art world, artists' identities are transforming
in confusing and contradictory ways. For example, Debra is an independent artist in Sydney, coming from a
situation where Aboriginal people once passed as "white," or tried to conceal their Aboriginality because of
legalized discrimination. And SB, an independent artist in Forster, was unsure as to his cultural heritage.
89
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 90
They now openly declare themselves as Aboriginal:
My great great grandfather was a convict and he married an Aboriginal lady. So there's a bit of white culture. My parents are both Aboriginal, but on my father's side there's some white, but on my mother' side it's Aboriginal. We were taught we weren't black. It was confusing to me because my skin was so dark. And there was this question one time, what am I? Am I Aboriginal 'cause I'm getting discriminated at school because I'm black. My father said I was not black, I was white. My parents grew up with a lot of discrimination against them, and that's the way they were taught. But my father's as dark as anything .... [Debra]
I was born in Sydney and at about six weeks I was taken from my mum because back then they still had the official government program where they were trying to assimilate Aboriginal people into mainstream society. I was adopted by a family- that's where I get my name from - that lived at Dorrigo, which is up the mountains north of here. I grew up on a sheep station there untill was about eight and then my adopted father got a job down near Newcastle on a dairy farm where Dad worked for fifteen years or so. So that's where I mainly grew up, in the Newcastle area. My adopted parents never kept it a secret that I was adopted but they were never told, and l was never told officially, that I was Aboriginal. But I had a bit of an idea 'cause I had heard about all the Aboriginal kids being taken. And I never grew up with any Aboriginal people, went to school with a few, and then when I was about thirty I decided to look for my natural mum. About seven years ago I moved up here to Forster just to be with my family and learn. Half the town I'm related to. I've never had that connection before. [SB]
These are just two examples of many artists in this research whose identities have
transformed, and continue to transform, in somewhat confusing and contradictory ways. In many cases, in
the past they declared themselves as "white" largely because they did not know of their Aboriginal heritage
or because of racial discrimination. It might be argued that they're now declaring themselves as Aboriginal
because of government-funded fmancial and economic programs. But my sense is artists in this research
declare their Aboriginality because they're now able to draw from their experiences and their cultural
heritages to communicate a sense ofwho they are. They are now part of an "imagined community"
(Anderson 1983).
Stereotypical Images of Aboriginality
Circulators and consumers, and sometimes artist-producers themselves, may hold
stereotypical images of Aboriginality. This means they see ''traditional" art forms as "authentic" and
representative of Aboriginal culture, and "urban" art forms as "inauthentic." Holding these stereotypical
images can constrain artists' identities. For many non-indigenous Australians, most people of mixed
ancestry don't belong in a white society and aren't accepted as being Aboriginal, largely because they're
not black, they don't live in remote areas, and they don't use exotic languages. A possible influence could
be that, historically, the Australian state has had a vested interest in policing and monitoring Aboriginal
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 91
identity as a singular, unchanging, and authentic category (Perera and Pugliese 1998:42, 48; Tonkinson
1990:208). John Weate, the manager at Tobwabba Art in Forster, illustrates:
There was this guy here a couple of weeks ago, from the Corrective Services Industry, the overall manager. He was talking about real blacks, and Y4 castes and % castes and Ronnie [a Tobwabba Art artist/administrator] and I were looking at each other. And I thought to myself how used to that crap Ronnie must be. There's nothing real about being really black and really traditional. You're either white or you're black, somewhere in the middle you're this sort of lost nothing, you know. You don't have credibility as a white person and you don't have credibility as a black person. He was a nice guy, he's a school principal, but he still has these antiquated ideas about what's real black and what's not real black.
In this research there's a common pattern for artists to see the terms "traditional" and "urban"
as hurting Aboriginal people and their culture because of the stereotypical images they suggest. Richard, an
independent artist in Sydney, illustrates popular images that people hold:
Traditional conjures up an image in everybody's mind of the black fella holding, onto the spear, and one foot resting on his knee. And urban means a drunk laying in the gutter, in some town or city.
Artists in Sydney are very passionate in their views. They criticize the wider public, the
Australian government, and Aboriginals from remote areas (''traditional") for their narrow vision of
"Aboriginality," which places a larger importance on ''traditional" art forms and ways of life. They argue
these groups see only one side of the Aboriginal art world, and seem blind to the contributions of"urban"
artists. For example:
I regard what I'm doing as urban traditional art work. People always want to separate the two of us and give recognition to traditional art but not to urban art. I think now we have to give an identity to our art work, separate from traditional art. Everyone wants to recognize the Top End of Australia as the real Aboriginals and the real art. We've lost our culture through no fault of our own and now we have to regain that and express it in a way that we feel comfortable with. And that should be recognized, should be respected, and should be authenticated. [Pam's perspective ofthe wider public]
I really feel that NSW has been overstepped. Even Australia Tourism's position of indigenous culture is the dancer in the lap-lap with the didjeridu music, and the place to go see Aboriginal art and Aboriginal people is the Central Desert or Northern Territory. Tourism NSW overlooks the Aboriginal sites here and the Aboriginal community and artists here. [Alanna's perspective of the Australian government]
I think there needs to be a greater awareness of urban art. As an example, when I introduced myself as an urban Aboriginal artist to a group of Aboriginal traditional women from Ernabella in Central Australia, at The Rocks for a showing, they laughed at me and I felt very insulted. I felt because my skin was lighter than theirs how dare I class myself as being Aboriginal, let alone an artist. And I find that very disheartening, that my fellow indigenous people don't class us as such because we're half caste. [Leeanne's perspective of remote area Aboriginals]
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 92
But there are contradictions and ambiguities here as well. The term "half-caste" carries
derogatory implications for most artists with whom I spent time. And yet, on occasions, they use the term
themselves, almost as if they're still struggling to shake off the embedded social and political constructs of
colonialism (see Leeanne's quote above and also in Part 1 Chapter 3.) But one well-known and respected
artist, BW, tells me that she prefers to use the term "half-Aboriginal" to describe herself, pointing out that
her white heritage is just as important as her indigenous heritage. In fact, a small number of artists do
articulate interest in both their heritages, while still identifying themselves as "Aboriginal." As well, a few
artists in the cooperative, and one independent artist in Sydney, see some validity in the view that the
"traditional" Aboriginal is the "real" Aboriginal. Moreover, a few artists in the mid-north coast ofNSW
(cooperative and independent artists) draw on the stereotypical image of the ''traditional" Aboriginal in
their art forms, in some cases seeing this as an "urban" rather than a "traditional" art form. For example:
Probably true that an urban Aboriginal is not a real Aboriginal, which is real dark skinned person in the Western Desert, and has no contact with whites. Doesn't make us less, though. [TJ, cooperative artist]
Like to do the one sort of thing. Aboriginal sitting on a rock looking out over the desert, hunting. Animals in it. It's not traditional. It's urban. I'm sitting thinking about the desert and Alice [Alice Springs] and bringing them closer to me. [Pep, cooperative artist]
Artists seem to share the notion that distinctive views of the world remain alive, seeing their
art forms as "extensions of traditional art" and "reviving something which has been lost." But they also
belong in the present since they say their art forms are adaptable and open to change, providing a more
contemporary frame. This largely follows the idea that indigenous cultures are simultaneously ''traditional"
and "contemporary," as espoused by Thomas (1999). Certainly, as James (1997:72-73) and others argue, by
placing "Aboriginality" into opposed categories, Aboriginal initiatives or issues become clouded in a
debate about authenticity, thus obscuring the diversity of Aboriginal ways of being. Also, Croft ( 1992-
93:21) points out that the emphasis on and reverence for traditional art as being "real" and "authentic" has
directly contributed to Aboriginal people (urban artists and artists in jail) appropriating the work of
Aboriginal artists from remote areas. Many emerging Aboriginal artists based in urban or rural areas are
misled into believing that to be accepted as "authentic" or "real" they must appropriate or draw their
inspiration. thus their very Aboriginality, from established ''traditional" artists with whom they have no
tribal/clan connections. And here Attwood (1996:xxxvi) suggests if artists "essentialize" or reify the past
there can be no basis for a stable and vital identity.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 93
For most artists, the widespread stereotypical images of Aborigina1ity continue to influence
the ignorance of Aboriginality's cultural diversity. The consequences of this can be seen not only when
artists draw on the stereotypical image of the "traditional" Aboriginal in their art forms (Figure 10), but
also when they say the "traditional" Aboriginal is, in fact, the "real" Aboriginal. It seems to me that Native
American Jimmie Durham's lines might well speak for some Aboriginal urban artists:
One of the most terrible aspects of our situation today is that none of us feel that we are real Indians .... For the most part we feel guilty, and try to measure up to the white man's defmition of ourselves. (Gough in Smith et al. 2000: 94)
Racist Attitudes Towards Aboriginal People
Non-indigenous Australians who hold the view that contemporary Aboriginal society is
dysfunctional continue to maintain racist attitudes towards Aboriginal people (Langton 1997:93-94).
Racism is an integral part of Australian culture, as can be demonstrated by an examination of the
apparently uncontroversial understandings of Aboriginality found in Australian newspapers (James
1997:53). Racism is largely expressed in negative stereotypes, but also through the division and allocation
of resources and other forms of preference (Wetherell and Potter 1992:43). In whatever form, racism can
constrain artists' identities.
When I ask artists: "What are some of the attitudes of people in your location towards
Aboriginal people?" their responses largely support the view that racist attitudes towards Aboriginal people
still continue, and in some cases seem worse:
Bloody hell. I live at Glebe and Redfern, where I hang my hat. We can't get taxis at night. You can't get the services you want. lfthey can serve someone other than an Aboriginal they will. The old truism is still true. If you scratch an Aussie, you scratch a racist -they do it unconsciously. The government has done such a wonderful job in colonizing their own people. And that absolutely dehumanizes Aboriginal people in this country. [Richard, independent artist in Sydney]
I think the relationships between the Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people in the community I live in is one of mistrust, lack of respect. I think the relationships have fallen down, particularly over the last 20 years. There's an element that exists in the area that's influenced by alcohol, drugs, lack of education, living in squalor, and it just seems those people don't want to rise above those things. And for me as an Aboriginal woman, that's very sad. That's the negative side. And on the positive side, I see very prominent Aboriginal people in the area, very good families that want to educate their children. They don't use drugs, they work, they're respected by their neighbours. So there's two factions in the community. [Pam, independent artist in Sydney]
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 94
There's good and bad. Some say to me: 'What do you want to admit you're an Abo for?' Really annoys me. Because I was brought up Koori. It was something to be proud of. I've copped racism- "you white nigger, you half-caste" but as far as I'm concerned, I'm black. My skin may be light but I'm as black as the next person. I'm Aboriginal and that's all there is to it. [Peta-Joy, Eora Art student in Sydney]
Australia's racially-based policies and practices have had tragic consequences. They largely
appear to have been premised on racialized notions of"breeding out," and later, "assimilating" indigenous
Australians and creating an all-white nation of predominantly Anglo-Celtic Australians. Until recently most
non-indigenous Australians were unaware of the prolonged episode in Australian history in which
thousands of indigenous children were forcibly removed from their families by pastoralists, government
and Church authorities. For the most part, children were systematically removed from their families for no
other reason than their Aboriginality. This practice, which continued for the greater part of a century, began
in the late nineteenth century. In some Australian states it did not stop until the late 1970s. The children
who were taken away have become known as the "Stolen Children," or the "Stolen Generations." Many
Australian Aboriginal people continue to be deeply affected by this practice, central to which was the
attempted severance of the inter-generational link provided by language and culture (Nicholls 2000: 36-
For many artists in this research the "Stolen Generations" experience is real. They have had
either grandparents, parents, or themselves taken from their family homes and institutionalised, severing
their social, cultural, and familial foundational connections. Cecil, an Eora Arts student in Sydney and one
of the "Stolen Children," tells his story:
I was born in Cowra about 200 miles west of Sydney. I was taken away as a baby by the Australian Government and put into a home down the South Coast near Nowra - Bomaderry Children's Home. I was there till I was ten. Then I was taken up to Kinsella Boys Home at Kempsey and I was there till I was eighteen. I came down to Sydney then and more or less call Redfern home. I remember my father, when I was the age of walking, coming to Bomaderry Children's Home to get us out. Still in his soldier's uniform, he'd just got back from the war. There was me, my sister a bit older, and a younger brother. But they wouldn't let us go. I felt rotten about him until I got to Redfern. And I started running into people who said they were related to me. And one bloke said "You ought to go to Cowra and see your old man." I didn't believe it. I'd always thought I was an orphan. You know it was a pretty big shock to me. I did go to Cowra. We didn't have too much in common, you know. I never
3 The Australian Government's report, "Bringing Them Home," recommended reparation to members and relatives of the "Stolen Generations" and national legislation on the treatment of indigenous children. To date, the central recommendations have been rejected by the Australian Government (Source: A TSIC's report to the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD) "Please Explain" February 1999).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 95
grew up with him around. He was Aboriginal. See, apparently my mother died with my younger brother when he was hom and that's when I was taken. I was about 18 months old. The whole time I was in the Home they said I had no parents ....
The division and allocation of resources is another form of racism. This can be seen in
Australia's governmental funding bias toward Aboriginal remote area artists rather than urban artists and
their cooperatives/galleries. At an Opening Exhibition at Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery at Fox Studios in
Sydney, the Northern Territory Government gave Desart Gallery (specializing in remote area art forms) a
check for Aus$100,000. Such financial support would be unheard of in the Aboriginal urban art world. In
general, says the manager at Tobwabba Art, many artists' cooperatives are unsustainable without some
outside grant funding. These cooperatives serve multiple purposes, but largely as an economic enterprise
for indigenous communities. They also keep indigenous cultures alive. So governmental funding agencies
do recognize their importance, but show a bias toward remote area artists and their art forms. They see
these as the authentic representation of Aboriginality in Australia (Chapter 4)
Also, art world management perceive Aboriginal art as marginal. This is a form of racism.
McLean (1998:129-130) says although Australia's major galleries and museums are now collecting
Aboriginal art they are yet to give it the same critical attention accorded non-Aboriginal art. This
institutional preference seems out of place when indigenous art is largely recognized as Australian art by
the wider public and is commanding big dollars (Maughan 2000). Perhaps there's a fear that Western artists
may be subjugated by indigenous artists, as the art teacher of the Eora Arts Centre in Sydney suggests:
The world is dictating to the art scene that indigenous art is the real or authentic representation of what it is that is Australia. I find that very interesting. But there's a strong desire on the part of commercial galleries and institutionalized public galleries to perceive Aboriginal art as marginal, to pigeonhole it, place it in a box which is called anthropological -"we've got to contain this brushfire before we no longer exist as Western artists."
Opportunities for Artists
The social and political interactions of producers, circulators, and consumers can also create
opportunities for artists, allowing freedom for the ways they form their identities. I argue when a circulator
or consumer appreciates Aboriginal urban art, they show an openness to some flexible understandings of
"traditional" and "urban" art forms, and they're developing a familiarity with artists' lives, their
communities, and their cultures. As a consequence, artists' social, cultural, political, and economic histories
are recognized, so their identities are less constrained.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 96
Flexible Understandings of"Traditional" and "Urban"
In Chapter 4 I argue that the labels of''traditional" and "urban" can't be as neatly
compartmentalised as some might suggest. There are overlaps and grey areas within and between these
two styles of indigenous art, with diversity within each style. So if circulators and consumers can
appreciate this diversity, largely through an openness to some flexible understandings of''traditional" and
"urban" art forms, then the edges of the authentic/non-authentic dichotomy for these art forms are likely to
be softened. This would pave the way for more fluid interpretations of these art forms. I'm suggesting here
that "flexible understandings" means moving beyond narrow stereotypical images of these art forms. For
example, ''traditional" art forms could encompass other than Dreamtime stories with traditional
iconography, and "urban" art forms could encompass other than a person's experience, and possibly
include traditional iconography. In effect, the differences between the two art forms could be somewhat
blurred.
Some art galleries say there isn't a great deal of difference between ''traditional" and "urban"
art forms: "traditional" artists draw on certain aspects of white culture while still asserting elements of their
traditional culture, as do "urban" artists. And in the traditional context there are sub-divisions, as in the
urban context. Coo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery and the Eora Arts Centre illustrate these viewpoints, which
show an openness to some flexible understandings of"traditional" and "urban:"
Traditional peoples continue to produce contemporary expressions of their traditional art, taking those aspects of white culture they want and discarding the rest. They may be using Western mediums, materials, but their iconography, imagery is still a product of a culture in which people earn knowledge by going through a number oflevels of initiation. [owner/director ofCoo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery]
It's a very complex thing because you get someone like Michael Jagamarra who lives in Alice and who is an Arremte who was raised in tradition and is an initiated man who practices fully the protocols of his Dreaming, lives in a town, exhibits in galleries in cities and artist-in-residences in cities. So you've got to ask yourself, even in the traditional context, there are sub-divisions. [art teacher at the Eora Arts Centre]
But the overseas art world seems to be less flexible in its understandings of''traditional," in
large part due to a "lack of understanding of traditional cultures." For example, the owner/director of Coo-
ee Aboriginal Art Gallery points out that people overseas like to see these indigenous art forms as "pure,"
in having been made for religious or semi-religious or social reasons and not for sale. For these people,
once these art forms come for sale they become tainted. He suggests this view is no more than "a European
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 97
construct and a form of Eurocentric tyranny that's being impacted on indigenous people all over the
world." (See also Thomas 1999:192-93 for a similar view.)
Also, consumers seem less flexible in their understandings of"traditional" and "urban."
Aboriginal consumers point up the importance of Dreaming stories and totems for "traditional" art and a
person's life experience for "urban" art. Non-Aboriginal consumers (including overseas visitors) see a
combination ofDreamtime stories, tribal and traditional symbols for Aboriginal "traditional" art. This is in
contrast to current settings, brighter colours, and a person's experience, without traditional iconography, for
Aboriginal "urban" art. However,. the perception that urban art forms are "without traditional iconography"
doesn't take into account those artists who use "traditional" iconography in their art forms as a way to fill a
social and cultural void in their lives. At the same time, a few non-Aboriginal consumers see the terms
"traditional" and "urban" as limiting, particularly the term "urban." As one consumer says:
Generally I feel most comfortable when the work is presented as contemporary art made by people of Aboriginal background. What sells the work is its originality and personal conviction, not the label. [John]
Familiarity with Artists, Their Communities, and Their Cultures
I argue that one way oflessening racist attitudes towards Aboriginal people is through
developing familiarity with artists' lives, their communities, and their cultures. But the depth of this
familiarity is largely determined by the location and functional identity of the circulator.
The small-town Aboriginal-owned cooperative/gallery in Forster functions as a site of
production, circulation, and consumption. So there's a greater opportunity for consumers to develop
familiarity with artists, their community and culture. Consumers can meet with artists and community
members, and watch them work. The majority of consumers in this research (both Aboriginal and non-
Aboriginal, including overseas visitors) want to meet with the artists and community members, so they're
able to develop a good level offamiliarity with them. On the other hand, art galleries located in Sydney,
functioning only as a circulation site, are less likely to have the same familiarity. For example, the Sydney-
based art galleries of Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery and Hogarth Galleries point out their dependency, at
times, on what art coordinators send them, in terms of Aboriginal art forms:
Sometimes we have to depend on what the art coordinator sends down to you and that can be a little difficult and complicated at times. [director of Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery]
We don't hand-pick every piece that comes in, so we're dependent on the art advisor. [co-director ofHogarth Galleries]
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 98
But this art world is ambiguous and contradictory at times. Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery
depends on art coordinators' selections. Yet they seem to understand urban artists' incorporating
"traditional" symbols and "essentializing" certain aspects of ''traditional" ways of life as a means to fill a
social and cultural void in their lives (Chapter 5). This insight is likely to come from developing a
familiarity with artists, their communities, and their cultures. Also, the co-owner of Gavala Aboriginal
Cultural Centre says: "We talk to the artist, we listen to their story, and we listen to the story about the
painting" which is unusual for a Sydney-based gallery but not necessarily for an Aboriginal-owned gallery.
In Sydney most consumers (all non-Aboriginal, including an overseas visitor) depend on the reputation of
the art gallery for determining the "authenticity" of the art work and providing insight into the artist. Since
the art gallery depends on the art coordinator then there's likely to be a gap in their familiarity with the
artist, his/her community, and culture, which ultimately impacts the consumer. But consumers do have an
interest in understanding more about the artist and his/her culture. For example, in the mid-north coast of
NSW and Sydney, a majority of artists and most art galleries say consumers do want to know about the
artist, for both fine art and tourist art, as the co-director of Hogarth Galleries illustrates:
Amazingly so. On every level. Even when they're [buyers] spending $25 they ask for it and we sort of have to answer them in some way. You wouldn't for $25 of another tourist art get it but they think they're buying a piece of spirituality, or buying into something and its legitimate to an extent.
Indigenous Ways of Thinking
The opportunities for artists can, however, be masked by the co-optation that sometimes
follows. Public and private mainstream agencies may co-opt and institutionalise Aboriginal culture. They
don't allow Aboriginal communities to represent or interpret their cultures on their own terms and in their
own ways to others (Fourmile 1994:74). This can be problematic because past research (Smith et al:2000)
shows the ways ofthinking and interacting for indigenous people, which tend to be oral, narrative,
practical, and fluid, can differ from non-indigenous ways of thinking. Sometimes a more linear and
compartmentalized representation by non-indigenous people can be seen as a distortion or
misrepresentation of Aboriginal culture.
Indigenous notions of time emphasize an ancestral past, which holds up the immediate past,
which in turn imbues the present; there's no closure ofthe past. A number of artists reference "traditional"
motifs in their art forms, such as circles, lines, dots, x-rays, and mimi-style figures. These references are
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 99
connections to an "ancestral past" because artists say their art forms are "extensions of traditional art" and
are "reviving something which has been lost." And those stories and sacred sites from the past history of
grandparents that have been handed down to artists is the "immediate past." These elements inspire artists'
depictions of the present, as Alanna, Pam, and Cecil illustrate:
I draw on traditional motifs for my work because I still have strong connections to my own area, around NW-NSW area. And, although I feel I'm more connected to the land, the sea where I am still I know that's my father's land and I now have stories from his land that have been given to me and that's where I draw my paintings from ... .I see other artists, Elaine Russell and even Jim [Simons], where they're painting from their lifetime, rather than before. And that's the difference in the way I paint in that I incorporate stories that are older, or older than what I am. [Alanna, independent artist in Sydney]
The biggest influence on my life would be my grandmother who I held in very high esteem. I spent most of my young childhood in her presence, she reared me up. Through her teachings of Aboriginal culture, it inspired me to produce the art, reflecting the Dreamtime stories that were told me by my grandmother. [Being an Aboriginal urban artist] means for me to keep the culture alive. It means for me to express my Aboriginality. To express the history of my people. To honour the Elders that have now passed on. The opportunity to record an oral history of my Aboriginality in the form of painting. [Pam, independent artist in Sydney]
In Redfern, this is the centre for Aboriginals. This is where we first protested against the government because of the way we were treated. Also a big part of the community is the Redfern All Blacks [Rugby League]. Every Aboriginal from the country wants to play for the All Blacks. So it's history and the Rugby League that are important. [Cecil, Eora Arts student in Sydney]
But the copying of''traditional" symbols is seen by the larger art world as politically
incorrect, largely because artists don't show "originality," as Coo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery and Hogarth
Galleries illustrate:
If they're a good urban artist they're not borrowing from the 'traditional' imagery ... [but] expanding on 'traditional' themes, or they're doing a contemporary interpretation of a traditional story that might be given to them .... They can't borrow other imagery from 'traditional' people if they want to find any legitimacy in the market. [owner/director of Coo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery]
We wouldn't care if they [the artists] were urban or where they were from, as long as there was some element of originality in it, rather than just copying . . . . A lot of it is derivative, and they're not called to account for this. If a white person did it, they would be, but Aboriginals are copying work from other areas. The stories aren't really theirs, and families do help on paintings.4 So, look, it's a huge area. [co-director of Hogarth Galleries] On the other hand, the Australian public accept these "traditional'' stereotypical art forms.
Also, some circulators (Rainbow Serpent Art Gallery and the Art Program at Long Bay Correctional
Centre) say, as long as "they are not directly plagiarising," it's appropriate in view of urban artists' ruptured
4 The Director ofthe Council's Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island Arts Board says: "The contribution of family and clan members to works of art is historically and culturally acceptable in Aboriginal communities. However, buyers must be informed ifthis has occurred. "(Koori Mail, May 19, 1999, 17)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 100
lives and their loss of "so much of their traditions through missionization and the attempted decimation of
the population." These circulators say artists attach their own meanings to the ''traditional" symbols they
draw on. My sense is Aboriginal urban artists share certain sensibilities with "traditional" artists so it's
natural that they gravitate to similar forms of expression. But their unique histories and ways of seeing the
world also show their works have a style of their own. I also agree with Thomas' view that the public
generally has never been troubled by the extent to which paintings of wide commercial appeal are
"derivative" (1999: 170). So artists' "copying" of certain ''traditional" symbols could, in fact, be seen as an
indigenous way of thinking that largely contradicts a Western art world emphasis on "originality." At the
same time, for artists to develop their own identity, they need to retrace their history and find their tribal
connections, as the owner/director of Coo-ee Aboriginal Art Gallery illustrates:
As far as "urban" Aboriginal art is concerned, in its purest form, people will argue from a political standpoint that an artist that has lost his culture, comes from a culture that was separated from their land, the onus is on them to rediscover the place where they came from, fmd the culture they belong to, try to pick up the shards, and then use that as a springboard to develop their own individual style. It has to be consistent with tribal patterns and designs of the tribal group to which artist belongs.
I believe circulators' increased understandings of indigenous artists, their communities, and
their cultures could allow for some movement to indigenous ways of thinking. For example, the art
teaching practices ofthe Eora Arts Centre and the Art Program in Long Bay Correctional Centre, where
both art teachers are non-Aboriginal women, work within the larger frame of a Western art world way of
thinking but they're also incorporating indigenous approaches that are oral, narrative, practical, and fluid:
Our art practices we teach are largely based on how the community social structure works -it's trial and error ... it's quite different to how a lot of mainstream art schools conduct themselves ... [we need to] lose any notions of authoritarian education ... we have to be more connected socially with students ....We have to deal with students from all over Australia, different language groups, cultural groups which requires a more generic approach which is inclusive of different cultural practices .... I think postcolonial theory is remarkably important for students, probably the critical issue. It's not for all levels of students, but for some, such as G., practice who are at the level of where understanding notions of cultural icons and notions about art as a commodity in a marketplace are absolutely critical. So that people understand how to freely position themselves rather than to be positioned as "others" or "marginalized." To be a successful artist at some stage requires tackling the mainstream. [Art Teacher at Eora Arts Centre]
It's run like a studio, where the emphasis is on practical areas- painting, printmaking, sculptures, design, drawing, framing work for presentation at the gallery. It's run like you would expect a group of artists working within a community. I have ten inmates at any one time, which I find is a good number in terms of the dynamics of how the class is run. I generally like to have a mix of different cultural groups. At one point I had about five Kooris
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 101
and probably four of those had a history of self-harm. Generally the program is a minimum of six months but some people have stayed for 1-112 to 3 years. I've got mixed classification - maximum to minimum security, which is very unusual .... Usually inmates start off with an almost stereotypical image. From then I try to encourage them to experiment. At no point do I ever attempt to teach them indigenous art. What I do is provide a space for people to do their art practice and encourage experimentation. I also let them know what artists are doing outside, providing the link with the outside world and bringing that in. I also keep them informed about copyright issues. [Art Teacher for Art Program at Long Bay Correctional Centre]
Also, some consumers who are frustrated with the ways art galleries operate and interpret art
forms might more readily accept indigenous understandings. Jenelle is one of these consumers. She is
interested in contemporary indigenous culture. Art is important to her life, and is one of the few things she
likes to own. She loves to be surrounded by works which challenge, or are just beautiful. And she thinks
it's important for her three children, as part of their shaping "as reasonable citizens for the future," to gaze
upon something "other." But she feels there is, in practice, a hangover of class when it comes to buying art.
She says:
I get frustrated at the immersion theories that galleries use .... I still don't feel comfortable in many gallery spaces, and I hear some of the assumptions that seem to be that one would need to be an "artist" of sorts to go to these spaces .... I think the channel of distribution in Australia of commercial gallery practice is impenetrable, and that something happens in a gatekeeping way from this being truly accessible to "punters."
Pressures of Commercialization
The pressures of commercialization, with art market standards that don't necessarily reflect
the diversity of Aboriginal art forms and ways of life, can lead artists to diverge from their life stories and
cultural traditions. This could lead to the perception by the outside world that their work is "inauthentic."
Thomas points out the labels used to market art are frequently misleading, neither encompassing nor
exhausting the interest of works that they inadequately frame (1999:198).
"Ownership" of Aboriginal culture and the arts, and maintenance of their "authenticity," is
important for Aboriginal artists. But Graburn (1976:30-32) says that in pleasing the tourist and the
tastemakers the Aboriginal artist might lose control of his/her product. In effect, the art becomes ours, and
the artist becomes subject to our manipulations and our aesthetic whims. It is our concepts of "authentic
ethnic identity" that will be manufactured and distributed. On several occasions during my field work,
artists working in the cooperative in Forster ask me if there is more interest by the buying public in
"traditional" Aboriginal art than ''urban" art. They say some design licensing companies for the cooperative
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 102
are asking for more ''traditional" designs for their products because tourists are more interested in these
designs. These artists express concern over this because they're being asked to move from their Aboriginal
"contemporary urban coastal" design, which is an art form that represents their particular culture and
geographic location, to a more ''traditional" design. From the above example it might be interpreted that in
pleasing the tourist and the taste-makers, the Aboriginal urban artist risks losing control of his/her product.
Also, the Aboriginal-owned artists' cooperative risks losing its "authenticity." But Bhabha (1994), Thomas
(1996), Escobar (1995), and Ashcroft et al. (1995, 1998) argue that precisely because of artists' hybrid or
minority situation there is the opportunity for empowerment, for ''reappropriating" the dominant culture
and its control (Chapter 3).
It's true for some artists, when the profit motive or the economic desperation of poverty
override aesthetic standards, satisfying the consumer becomes more important than pleasing the artist, or
perhaps retaining cultural integrity. But this research shows a number of artists seek control over their work
by actively engaging in questioning demands placed on them by design licensing companies. Also, in
Sydney, independent artists seek control over the marketing oftheir art forms, often citing a well-known
case:
I like to control and I think an artist that has lost control on how their work is mass produced it's a shame because ... well, for instance, Jimmy Pike. He was being marketed by Desert Designs and Jimmy Pike, fair enough, started out by doing the right thing. He was a traditional artist, living traditionally. Desert Designs promoted him and his art, and it became one of the most renowned pieces of Aboriginal art you could fmd anywhere, in a fashionable sense, not just pictures you put on a wall. But Jimmy Pike got himself into a lot of trouble because he was so pressured to produce more and more designs for his marketing strategy and to make more money for the love of the dollar that he gave up traditional designs. He was told by his own tribe: "If you produce those designs, you'll be exiled from your own tribe and your own roots." And that, to me, would be corrupt, absolute. To have that happen to you, you'd be like a walking zombie. You'd have no reason for living really. It's almost like colonisation, this lack of identity. Without it I just believe you're nothing. And I think the corporate companies don't know what they're doing. I think an artist must be in control of what they're doing and how the work's being produced. They must be able to say "no." They must be able to preserve what is sacred, and what is marketable. There's limitations and you've got to know your limitations. [Leeanne]
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 103
Figure 10. Art Form showing Stereotypical Images. A MNCNSW Independent Artist, Michele, shows the stereotypical image of the "traditional" Aboriginal: an Aboriginal hunter holding a spear with one foot resting on his knee. (Reprinted courtesy of the artist.)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. PART III
"QUATTRO PAGINE" -LIFE STORY NARRATIVES
104
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 105
Don't forget your Aboriginality. Respect your elders. Respect your youth because they're the future, the elders are the past. Be proud of who you are and show it to the world.[Pamela Brandy-Hall, Aboriginal artist in Sydney]
I would love to spend time in a remote community. That is my wish .... there's nothing here on women's business and women's culture. And I'd like to learn more of that. I honestly think that's a piece that is missing from my life .... Perhaps one day I'll meet someone who will guide me in that way.[Katina, Aboriginal artist, in the mid-north coast ofNSW]
I use "quattro pagine" - an Italian colloquialism which means "a few pages" - in a figurative
rather than a literal sense. The life story narratives of the two women artists in this research are, in fact,
several pages in length. But they are only "a few pages" in terms of their youthful ages: "Katina" (a
fictitious name chosen by the artist) is in her early thirties and Pamela Brandy-Hall is approaching fifty.
Chapter 8 is the "quattro pagine" for Pamela Brandy-Hall, an Aboriginal artist of some
renown. She has, over time, developed a solid reputation for quality art work and is respected by those
galleries, businesses, and private collectors who purchase her works. She lives in Redfern, an inner-city
suburb of Sydney, New South Wales, and is the mother of two grown children. In her words, the most
significant influence, for her life and her art, is her grandmother. Her teachings of Aboriginal culture
inspire Pamela to produce art reflecting the flora, fauna, and bush tucker (food from the bush) of her
descendants of the Bundjalung nation of the far north coast of New South Wales.
Chapter 9 is the "quattro pagine" for Katina, an Aboriginal artist who (at the time of my
research) was painting and doing administrative work at Tobwabba Art, an artists' cooperative at Forster in
the mid-north coast ofNSW. She lives on the outskirts of Forster, at Pacific Palms, and is the mother of a
somewhat precocious but delightful young girl. In her words, she is still searching for family connections,
has a deep desire to know more of ''traditional" Aboriginal culture, and, while passionate about her art,
knows well that she continues to grow both in her art and her understandings of Aboriginality.
These two women share with me their early life growing up in Australia and their reflections
on some significant aspects in their lives. They articulate their respective influences for becoming an
artistand some of the challenges they face living and working as an Aboriginal artist in Australia today.
Each woman's story is her own, reflecting her particular social, cultural, political, and economic histories:
one woman has a childhood experience of living on a Mission and living a "traditional" lifestyle, and this
experience very much imbues her present; the other woman is fitting the pieces together of a puzzle about
who she is and her connections to her fragmented past.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 106
But these stories are connected, in some sense bounded by their common time and space.
Both women largely draw on fragments from their mothers' and grandmothers' albums and memories of
Aboriginal childhoods to rebuild their connection with their Aboriginal heritage. As well, they both provide
insight into the complexities, the ambiguities, and the contradictions ofthe relations between Aboriginal
women artists in an urban context and Australian society. Moreover, they both live in complex and often
contradictory situations but they're developing complicated strategies and social relations for the ways in
which they cope with the larger environment, and move beyond the ''marginalized" image often held of
Aboriginal urban people.
The life story narratives also provide in-depth examples of some of the trends and issues
identified in the group analyses, as well as some contradictions. For example, in the group analyses, Pamela
emphasizes the valuing forms of cultural hybridity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional group
identity. In the narratives, we see how Pamela's childhood experience ofliving on a Mission and living a
"traditional" lifestyle very much imbues her present, as does her family's background in Aboriginal
politics, her family connections to the Foundation for Aboriginal Affairs, and her understandings of her
local and regional group identity, largely through stories handed down. She uses her art to record these
stories. She says her strong connections to her histories mean she doesn't need to validate her
Aboriginality. So we see how, in forming her identity, she is comfortable drawing on her social, cultural,
political, and economic histories.
In contrast, in the group analyses, Katina emphasizes the valuing forms of cultural hybridity,
authenticity, and a local or regional group identity. In the narratives, we see how Katina is fitting the pieces
together of a pw..zle about who she is and her connections to her fragmented past. Her family's background
is not in Aboriginal politics. She's still exploring her family history and her local and regional group
identity. And she's searching for connections to a "traditional" past (whether it be local or regional or
remote). Because of this ongoing search, she isn't able to show a comfort level with her social, cultural,
political, and economic histories. Some histories are not yet found, others could be lost forever. So, to fill
this void in her life, she needs to validate her Aboriginality and so she draws on ''traditional" symbols in
her art forms.
Also, in the group analyses, Pamela points up the racist attitudes toward Aboriginal people
that seem to have gotten worse over the last 20 years. But in the narratives she points out how she hasn't
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 107
had first-hand experience of racism: she never experienced racism growing up on the Mission, and it has
never really bothered her. She says she always lets people know of her Aboriginality. And she has always
associated with Aboriginal people. In her view, if life hadn't treated her as well- with a very good
upbringing and knowing from the start of her Aboriginality and living that life from an early stage- she
might have had a chip on her shoulder and thus could have created an environment around her for people to
have racist attitudes toward her. Katina's first-hand experience of racism is when she is ten and she recalls
the surprise of her white classmates when they hear she is Aboriginal. They say: "You're not like the other
Aboriginals." This was the start of her awareness that there was a difference. She also alludes to the
patronizing words from the white community in Forster. She suggests the racism is becoming more subtle.
And she talks of her mother and her boyfriend and their experiences with racism, including the impact of
the Stolen Generation period on her family.
And, in the group analyses, we see how indigenous ways of thinking emphasize an ancestral
past, which holds up the immediate past, which in tum imbues the present. For example, Pamela's art is
largely influenced by her grandmother: her teaching of Aboriginal culture and the Dreamtime stories she
told. Pamela's life story narratives give an insight into some of these stories: "Mingjinen," "Singing the
Dolphins In," and "The Last Corroborree." From these narratives we also gain insight into the dilemma
when artists copy ''traditional" symbols that are not necessarily representative of their location. "Copying"
traditional symbols seems to be an indigenous way of thinking that largely contradicts a Western art world
emphasis on "originality." For example, Pamela questions why artists from urban areas cannot use the
symbols of dots and circles in their art forms, even if they are not from the artist's location. She uses the
dotting to emphasize or highlight the background. It's not part of the main theme. And she says she feels
right as an Aboriginal artist to use the dots as she chooses. And Katina talks about using ''traditional"
symbols in her art work. And how she is trying to move away from dots and use more fluid lines because
dots are not representative of her location. And yet she identifies with the dots, seeing them as part of her
culture.
To facilitate the reader, I have repositioned some paragraphs of the narratives. But the
women's words are their own.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTERS
PAMELA BRANDY -HALL
"Baryulgil"
I guess what comes to mind, growing up, more so than anything else, is my time growing up
on a small Mission where my mother grew up. And at the age of seven I lived there with my grandparents
and I remained there until my teenage years. And how wonderful it was to live in such a close-knit
community and it was wonderful, you know. The kids I grew up with. And even today I still retain the
friendship of those kids, who are adults now. We've kept in touch throughout the years. The Mission was
two kilometres from Grafton and that's the north coast ofNSW. There wasn't much there. There was a
general store, a school that just covered primary school. Once you'd done primary school you had to go to
Coffs Harbour and surrounding bigger towns to attend high school.
I was actually born in Sydney, born here at the Cranswick Women's Hospital, which a lot of
Aboriginal kids were in those days. And I lived in Redfern right up to the age of about six and a half to
seven. And during that time my grandparents continually came to the city, as grandparents do, to keep an
eye on the grandchildren and see how they were going. At the time my parents became involved with
alcohol so that was a bit of a worry for my grandparents, and that prompted them to make several trips
throughout the year to the city. And they were very concerned that it wasn't the best environment for us so
they decided then that they would take us back to the country.
I was one of eleven children. And I was the second eldest. And at that time there was my
older brother, myself and a younger sister and a brother. So there were four of us. We were then taken by
our grandparents to Baryulgil which is fifty-two kilometres from Grafton. And we went to school there and
were brought up by our grandparents. And we would remain there for a year, and then once my parents
stopped drinking they would come looking for us and bring us back to the city. So this continued for a
number of years, happening every year. And so we would come back and only stay a very short time with
108
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 109
the parents because the same thing would occur again, with the drinking. But the grandparents were so very
involved, knowing what was happening to the family, and they would come down and take us back again.
So I guess, to me, I admired my grandmother so much in the way she looked after the
grandchildren. That's the primary role of an Aboriginal grandmother. She's like a second mother. And if
my mother couldn't possibly care for me then it was the responsibility of my grandmother to take that care
on. So that happened. And we would stay very short periods with our parents. For about two to three
months, and the same thing would occur, then the grandparents would return to the city and get the
grandchildren and take us back. But we would stay up to two and three years with them. For me, it was
very stable and very secure being in that environment, and I felt more secure in that surrounding than I did
when I came back to the city.
"Al Chevalier"
We were the elder children, and my mother continued to have babies, you know. And they
numbered eleven by the time she finished having children. So there were only four of us in the beginning.
But as the other babies came they were included in as well. So that continued until right through to the age
of eleven or perhaps twelve. And then my parents decided they would stop drinking. They realized that
they had to take responsibility for us children. And they arrived this day at Baryulgil and gathered the
children up. And, of course, this was very upsetting for my grandmother. And I can still remember like it
was yesterday, when she pleaded with my mother not to take us because for once we were stable, we were
attending school, or whatever. But she was stubborn and said: "No. We've got to take these children." The
day we left my grandmother ran after us because we had no vehicle. We had to walk the fifty-two
kilometres and all we had was an old straw pram. I was eleven and my older brother, he would have been
about fifteen. And there was a younger sister and brother and another baby by this time. There were like
five of us. So my grandmother couldn't convince my mother to leave us there and she packed us up and we
started walking. And as we walked away from the Mission, my grandmother ran after us and she handed
my mother four johnny cakes which we call "damper." Because we had nothing. Absolutely nothing. And
she said you have to take this, for the children. So she took it and we walked.
Well, we walked all day. The roads were unfinished in those days, so we walked across
paddocks and we would join back up with the road. We walked all of the day. We ate the johnny cakes on
the side of the road. And just on nightfall my father decided we would cut through a property because there
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 110
was an old abandoned house, and we could sleep there for the night. So we walked about half a kilometre
from the road to this old dilapidated building. We stayed there for the night. I don't remember how we
survived it. We didn't have blankets. We had the clothes on our backs. There were hay bales in the old
building and we stayed there for the night. I'm sure we all huddled together and slept together. And the
very next morning we got up and, of course, the babies by this time were hungry and there was no food left.
And then we had to walk from there back to the road. I can remember walking back through the grass
because it was wet. You know, it was stinging my legs. And that's what remains in my memory.
And we got back to the road and from there we continued to walk and we drank water from
the side of the road, until midday. And then we sat on the road and we were just so exhausted. And we just
didn't have any answers. My father was just so frustrated he didn't know what to do. The babies were
crying. And then a car came along. And he stopped. And he asked my father: "Where was you going?" And
he said: "I don't know where I'm going but I know I've got to go somewhere and find work. My family
doesn't have anything to eat and that." Well, he was the kindest gentleman I've ever come across in my
life. You know I can still remember it. He said: "I need some fencing done. I cannot pay you a wage but
I've got an old place, there's nothing in it, it's about ready to fall down. But we can bring you fresh milk
and bread each day and vegetables until you find somewhere to go. The work will probably only last for
about six weeks." So he piled us on the back of his truck and took us a couple of kilometres up the road till
we came to this place and it was as he said. There was no windows in the place. Again there were hay bales
there which we slept on. And the six weeks turned into about five months because my father used to go
fencing with my older brother each day. But during this time we didn't go to school at all. We just used to
play around the creek beds and that, and we used to take lunch down to my father who was fencing with
my older brother. And look after the smaller children. And the man that employed my father for all those
months, his name was AI Chevalier. And I'm sure if he's not alive today his family still lives there. They
were just incredible people. And the wife would come in with fresh milk and bread and vegetables and
that's how we basically lived. It could have been closer to six months, 'cause I know it was a while we
stayed there because he used to often ask about the children and their schooling.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 111
"Yulong"
But when the work ran out, we had to move then. When that day came, Al Chevalier came
and helped us with our belongings. He took us into Grafton, which is the nearest town. And he said to my
father: "I've picked up a local paper and there's this man by the name of Lyall Tims. And he has a timber
yard. And he's advertising for families to come and work for him in the timber mill. But he's only trying to
entice people with large families because they want to keep the local schools open or whatever." So that
sounded interesting, and we got to Grafton and we said goodbye to Al Chevalier. And we were sitting in
the park then. So my mother and father decided they needed money. They rang, actually, and said they
were interested in coming out there to work with their five children. And Lyall Tims said: "If you can get
as far as Coorambin, we'll come and pick you up." We sat in the park all day. And my parents went to the
local churches to see if they could get some money to get the train fare to Coorambin. But they couldn't get
the money to do that. And then my older brother, Harry, went missing. And he was gone some time. And
twenty minutes later we see him running, and he's holding his T-shirt and he said: "Quick, get the chicks
and let's go." And my mother could just see the fear on his face. We just grabbed the children and ran to
the other side of the park. 'Cause he opened up his T-shirt and he had all these coins in it. My mother, of
course, said: "Where did you get all that money?" And he said: "There's a wishing well over there that says
give to the needy. And we needed it and so I just took it for our fare."
So we grabbed the kids and got to the train station and there was only enough money to pay
for my father and mother. And so we had this great plan that they would do that. And we all got on the
train, and headed towards Coorambin which was an hour's ride away from Grafton. The plan was that as
the train slowed down and came into the station, the children would have to jump from the train, 'cause
we'd get caught at the end for not having a ticket. And when I think on that now, it just terrifies me to think
that we did something like that. But in those days the trains had sliding doors which opened from the
outside. And my brother, as the train slowed down coming into Coorambin, he jumped and fell into a
paddock and rolled. And then it was my turn and I did the same thing. The baby didn't have to pay. But my
next sister, Robin, she jumped but as she did, within seconds, an oncoming train came. If it was two
seconds later she would have jumped into it. That was the most scary thing. But anyway, we ran up through
the grass and lay in the grass and waited for the train to stop and for our parents to come down. Which they
did. And then we went to Coorambin.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 112
And when T think of all those non-Aboriginal people along the way, it just makes you think
there are so many good people around, you know. And we were waiting outside the general store there and
this woman came out and asked: "Are you waiting for someone?" And my father said he was to meet Lyall
Tims but he didn't have any money to call him. And she knew Lyall Tims, 'cause the family were quite
wealthy and owned a number of timber mills in the Dorrigo mountains. And so she rang, and came out and
stayed with us until Lyall came down and picked us up. So we went and we lived in this little place called
Yulong. Well, my parents continued to live there for quite a number of years after that. And stayed off the
alcohol. And it was probably the first time in our lives that we had that stability, you know. And we went to
school and that. And it was just a wonderful place to live, you know. We were the only Aboriginal family
there. And the non-Aboriginal families, we were treated like their own. And we grew up with those kids,
and now we still keep in contact, as parents and grandparents ourselves.
Return to Sydney
I actually left there at the age of fourteen, when I was at the legal age to leave school. My
brother went and joined the Army. There was no work there, you know. We had to go to Coffs Harbour for
the nearest high school which was something that we did once a week. But he wanted to join the Army and
they were talking about Vietnam at that stage [in the 1960s] and my parents fmally relented and signed the
papers and, of course, he went away to training. And because we were so close, I fretted for him and T
didn't want to go to school. And I guess I just got sick of all the new babies coming, you know. By that
time three or four more, and when I got through school I had to be on hand to do all the work load. By that
time I was missing some school because I was staying behind to look after the babies and I'd turned
fourteen then. So I wanted to leave and come to the city as well. So my mother brought me to the city. She
gave me to an old friend of hers who she had grown up with in Redfern, who by that time had married a
wealthy Maltese man and was living in Vaucluse, who she kept in touch with. And she bought me down in
the mid to late 1960s and gave me to this friend who I lived with for the next two years. And I looked after
their children and cleaned their house. They had a four story home and I used to clean that from head to toe
each day, get the children off to school, be there for them when they returned from school. I had to feed
them. And when the parents came home from running the business, I would go with their two older boys in
the evening down to Central and help them in the cafe, where I worked until ten o'clock at night. So my
hours were like from five-thirty in the morning till ten o'clock. Very hard. So I did that for two years. By
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 113
that time we were missing each other and my parents thought it was time to move back to the city. Which
they did. But by that time I was sixteen and independent and working and that. They moved down 'cause
they were given a Housing Commission house immediately. They settled at St. Mary's which is West of
Sydney. The Western Suburbs.
Foundation for Aboriginal Affairs
By this time the Foundation for Aboriginal Affairs was just starting out with Charles Perkins.
He was a young university student and he was starting to gather the local Aboriginal people together to
conduct a meeting place which they called the Foundation for Aboriginal Affairs. They used to hold dances
here on a Friday night, a Saturday night and a concert on Sunday night. And during the week it used to
operate as a charitable operation raising money for various, you know, functions and that. And it was at
one of those dances that I met my future husband. And I was sixteen years of age. I met him there at a
dance one night and about seven months after that we were married. And he was a boy from Warriewood.
And he was associated with Charles Perkins and supported him and he was very much involved in the
movement at that time. And we married in Walgett and we came back to Sydney to live. And a year later
we had our first child, our daughter Lee-ann. And my husband continued to work for the Foundation for
Aboriginal Affairs and support Charles Perkins who, by this time, was having his own family. He was
married and having his own family and putting himself through university. And he had a great following
that helped to raise money to do all of that. So we continued to live in Sydney for a number of years, for
four years, and during that time I stayed at home and reared my daughter up, and my husband continued to
work for the Foundation for Aboriginal Affairs. And, of course, I had my family here too. You know, my
mother continued to have more babies. So by the time it totalled eleven of us. But they seemed to have
settled quite nicely and stayed off the alcohol which was good for the other children. Because when I think
back now, if we hadn't had great grandparents we could have quite easily been institutionalized and we
may have lost each other, you know, by being separated. But someone was really watching out for us and
gave my grandmother great strength to be able to take on that responsibility just to keep us together.
Then an opportunity came, when my daughter was about four years of age, for us to go to
Walgett. They established the first branch of the Foundation for Aboriginal Affairs in Walgett and my
husband was offered the job to go up there and manage it. So we went up there and I had my second child
up there, my son Philip Matthew. And we stayed up there for a further three years and after those three
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 114
years we decided to come back to the city because it offered more opportunities for our children in terms of
education and that. So we came back to the city and we lived here for a number of years. We lived at
Ashfield and my children attended school there. I wanted to get into the workforce. I felt fairly useless and
I needed to do something. So I joined the Aboriginal Hostels at that time and I worked part-time in the
beginning so that I could be there for the children after school and in the evening. I worked with the
Hostels, domestic work, for a number of years. It was working out in the suburbs with their branches and
that. But then I was given an opportunity to apply for an office job with their head office, which I did and
was successful. And through doing that for a further two years I was given an opportunity to go to
Canberra. I thought that was a good opportunity because I felt the education system was so much more
superior, you know, than Sydney and I wanted that for my children. So we moved down there and the work
opportunities were great too. So we moved down there. It was about 1982, I think it may have been. I
continued to work with Hostels in their head office and from there I got an opportunity to go to A TSIC,
which was then called the Department for Aboriginal Affairs. So I moved across there and worked there for
another five years and then came ATSIC- the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission. So I was
there through all those changes. And I continued to work for the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander
Commission in the office for indigenous women, with some incredible Aboriginal women who influenced
me in many ways and had a great impact on me as an Aboriginal woman.
Rainbow Serpent Gallery
And it was during that time that I began to paint. I did it as a hobby basically on weekends
and I did it to give people gifts for weddings and engagements and that sort of thing. And I found that I
really liked to do that. It became a hobby and l didn't put too much into it at that stage, because I worked
full-time and that. But then as time progressed I found that I really enjoyed doing it. I wanted to spend
more time being able to paint but my full-time job didn't allow for that And it was during this time that I
was painting that I was contacted by a man over the phone who rang me at work at ATSIC one day and he
introduced himself as Jerry Parness. And he said: "I've seen your work and I'm very interested to see more
of it. Do you come to Sydney very often?" So we arranged for me to come to Sydney for him to have a
look at the work. And from that day on, it just took off from there. He thought that the work was good and
he'd like to buy as much ofthat as what he could, you know. So we developed a friendship from thereon in
and I continued with him for the next few years and I'd bring the art work up to Sydney and that. But by
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 115
that time I was disillusioned with my job and Tjust felt that Tno longer had job satisfaction. There were
glass ceilings within ATSIC for Aboriginal women, you know, at the class 6 level. Just no opportunities at
all. So given all of that, and by this time my children were through college you know. My daughter went on
to university, and my son decided he didn't want to go to uni, he wanted to go out into the wide world and
do some travelling and that. And I thought, well. At that stage we were talking that we might like to come
back to Sydney to live now that we'd achieved everything we wanted to in terms of the children's
education.
So I think it was about 1982 or '83 that we packed up and came back to Sydney. And I
decided I wanted to paint full-time then and I started to do that. And I was able to make money from that
because I'd already established my link with the Rainbow Serpent through Jerry Parness. So that gave me,
you know, employment in terms of making money to assist the rest of the family. And I just continued to
paint for them until right up until now actually.
I was married for thirty-one years and during that thirty-one years two children were born. My
daughter is now thirty years of age and my son is twenty-seven years of age. Now my daughter is married
and has a life of her own, and my son's pursuing his interests. Because I was married at a very, very, very
early age, the age of sixteen, I was just turning seventeen, I've never been able to find out the real me. Who
Twas. And, you know, I feel I'm now able to find out who Pam Brandy-Hall is, you know. And when we
knew the marriage was coming to an end, it was an amicable decision. There was no animosity. My
husband and I decided we would part, which was very good for the children. It's been easy for me to make
that transition from a married woman and mother in a particular environment. For once in my life, I'm on
my own and independent to do my art work and make a living from that.
Reflections on "Baryulgil"
Even though we stayed quite a number of years, and my grandmother reared me up at
Baryulgil, and even when we did leave, we returned many times, even when we lived at Yulong. They would continue to come and take us for weekends and holidays. So even though we were with our parents
to make a new life, we still kept a lot of contact with our grandparents. We went back at six weeks at a time
during holidays. But it was during this time, we were, what I would call it, basically living a traditional
lifestyle at Baryulgil. Because we were fifty-two kilometres away from the nearest town. Growing up at
Baryulgil was with other kids, Aboriginal, and we all went to school together and played together. And
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 116
because it was so isolated where we lived we basically ate traditionally. The men would go out and kill
kangaroo and turtle. The only food that we ate was traditional food. They grew their own vegetables. So
that's a lifestyle that we lived. And we accepted that. 'Cause we didn't really know any better. That's how
we were brought up. And we didn't think there was anything other than that lifestyle. I have good
memories of my childhood, growing up on the Mission. We slept on dirt floors~ asbestos that was watered
down and made into concrete. I didn't taste such things as butter, bananas until I was 11 years of age. It
was a traditional lifestyle. It's made me very humble. I never take anything for granted and I appreciate
everything for what it is. It makes me want to share things with other people. And I've tried to pass this on
to my children. We went to school. And I think the only time we drank milk was at school because it was
provided for us. It was a mixed school. The non~ Aboriginal children that attended the school were from
surrounding properties, you know, that used to travel in every day. But basically the majority of the kids
were Aboriginal kids from the Mission.
For me, growing up at Baryulgil was a wonderful experience. It enabled me to participate in
events with women, in terms of their secret women's business. And we used to always accompany the older
women and grandmothers and mothers on many outings where women were only permitted to go. And it
was during these outings that we were taught about women's business and how the area related only to
women and whether it related to food gathering, or fish that could be caught. Those things were taught us at
a very, very early age. And these took place, on a weekly basis, on a Saturday. Every morning the men
would gather the women up and the women would gather up their washing and the ingredients for making
bread or whatever, and we would be taken down to the river, at a place called Yugalbar. Now Yugalbar was
about three kilometres from Baryulgil and we would be left there for the day then. We would spend all day
with the women and they would wash the clothes and hang them out on the trees along the river, drying.
And then we'd sit down and they'd tell us stories. And we could sit there and eat damper and syrup. And
they'd tell us the stories, you know.
"Mingjinen"
And one particular story that comes to mind, and I paint it quite often in my artwork, is
Mingjinen. And Mingjinen is a mythical figure who adores women. And he's quite mischievous. When I
say mythical, I mean mythical in the sense that he's been around and talked about for hundreds of years and
the women believe that he really can come and do mischievous things around women. And if anything goes
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 117
wrong or something goes missing, the women say Mingjinen did that, you know. And they'd say never
wander off alone or that because Mingjinen will follow you. If you're swimming he can grab your legs
under the water. And if you're sleeping on the banks he can come and pull your hair and things like that. So
we truly believed in Mingjinen. And if our grandmothers wanted to scare us, or tell us not to go to a
particular place, they'd say don't go there because Mingjinen was there. And we knew exactly what they
were talking about. So I never knew what Mingjinen looked like. I only heard about him as a child growing
up. I often visualize him in my mind, and paint him how I perceive Mingjinen to be. So I do that in some of
my art work. But that was one of many, many stories that was told to us.
And it was always taught us how to respect motherhood, you know, never abuse it. And if we
were sent to gather wild passionfruit, you know, we were only allowed to take what we needed. And if we
took more than we needed the grandparents would reprimand us because we were being greedy. And we
didn't need that amount. So all those things to me were very valuable. I carry them right throughout my
life. And the wildflowers, we were taught about them and what they meant. How to respect them. How to
gather food. They taught us how to fmd turtles' eggs, you know, and we were able to track and do that.
They would show us in the beginning and then they would let us do that on our own. We were taken early
in the morning to the river. And we had to walk along the sand, you know. And they'd show us how to just
use a stick and feel in the sand, ever so lightly, after we'd see the tracks coming from the water. And we'd
follow those tracks and touch around that particular area with a stick. The stick would go through the sand
and penetrate the egg and the stick would be pulled out and we knew it had hit an egg or something. So we
knew then that we would clear the sand away but we were never allowed to take all the eggs. We could
only take what we needed. For me, that is a lesson I practice today, you know. Right throughout my life,
never take more than what you need.
Many times when my grandmother had to go to Sydney, because by this time she had asthma
and she suffered from that very badly, and she had to make trips to specialists in the city and that. And
when those trips would arrive and they needed money for the petrol to travel to Sydney, she would say to
me: "I want you up early in the morning. We're going to get the money that we need to make the trip to
Sydney." And I would be up early in the morning and, of course, she would get the billy and we'd take a
damper and we would go out. And it was only her and I. And we would go to right over the back of the
Mission, over several hills, until we come to little dry bed creeks, with little patches of water. And she
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 118
would sit there and she would pan for gold. And we would sit there all day. And we would have lunch there
which was, you know, our damper and our treacle. And she'd boil the billy. But she would sit there and she
would pan all day. And she'd have little medicine bottles and she'd fill a couple of those medicine bottles
with gold. And then by nightfall we would leave and go back to the Mission. And they would take it to
Grafton to convert into cash. But it was just enough cash to get into Sydney to see the specialist and the
return trip. She never took more than she needed. So that was, to me like a bank. You could always go
back, everytime we needed something that couldn't be provided for us. We didn't need money for food or
anything 'cause that was provided free to us, you know. They would buy bulk flour and that sort of thing.
"Singing the Dolphins In"
And everything was always shared on the Mission as well.You never kept anything for
yourself. Everything was always shared. If someone came back and you had a bag of flour because you'd
come back from Grafton, that bag of flour would be shared with the other families. And I grew up with kids
that later went on to be household names, such as Tony Mundine, the boxer. And people like that. I grew
up in their families. And his mother was my mother, and my grandmother was his grandmother, you know.
They were all mothers to all of the children. And, of course, you know, we used to have gatherings where
we used to sing, have sing-a-longs on the Mission and those songs were sung in traditional tongue. So my
grandmother could speak very fluent Bundjalung, and my great-grandmother was alive at that time, too.
Nano, that's what we call great-grandmothers. She didn't speak English, she only spoke full-tongue, you
know tribal Bundjalung. And, of course, my grandmother used to speak to her in the tongue. And there
were several, not many, who could speak the full-tongue, the lingo. And we used to sit down and it used to
fascinate us. We knew certain words, 'cause we knew what things were referred to, like "go away" "don't
come here" and things like that. We knew that, it was everyday practice. And they would sit down and sing
in their traditional way- their songs and their stories and that. And we'd sit down there too and sing along
with them. And then my grandmother would have to tell us what the song meant, you know. And they
would sing about things like fishing, and how they would go to the ocean, the women, in the old days and
they would sing the dolphins in. You know the dolphins would round the fish up and bring them into shore.
And my grandmother used to tell me about my great great grandmother, Mariah. They used to call her
Queen Mariah and she used to go to the ocean and she would sing and she had the power to sing the
dolphins to gather the fish. And men would grab the fish on the shore, you know, and they could actually
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 119
grab them by hand because the dolphins would bring them right in. So there were those sorts of stories. I
mean I just ... and they're the sorts of stories I paint today. To do with dolphins, wildflowers, fruits, and
bushes and that sort of thing, because they were the things I was brought up on, those stories. So I tend to
paint those stories more so. And, of course, the mythical figures from the stories we were told.
"The Last Corroborree"
You know, during those times we'd spend with the women down at the river and they'd tell
stories about various mythical figures and that. And they'd tell stories about the various sites around the
river where you could only wash in that area or whatever. And my grandmother used to tell me about her
mother and I've mentioned already that she was a full-blood Bundjalung woman. And my grandmother told
me a story about when she was a young woman the Bundjalung tribe, a very big tribe from that area,
conducted their very last corroborree that they ever had. And I love that story because my grandmother
says to me that she recalled that they gathered at one particular place, which I'm very familiar with, and
said that when she was a young girl she stood back and watched the women and men perform the
corroborree. And that corroborree took place when they knew they were going to be moved from that
particular place which was their family place, because of white settlement. They were being moved from
that area to another location about five to ten kilometres away. And I want to do a painting one day, and I
want to call it "The Last Corroborree" and I'll interpret it in my way. But she says she remembers that the
women wailed and danced and she remembers the flickering and smoldering of the fire into the darkness of
the night. And how beautiful the men looked with their decorations, their ochre and markings and that. And
I love that story. She says she was only very young and she remembers it, won't every forget it. She told
me that story. So I feel one day I want to paint it too, but I'm waiting for a special occasion. I'm very ...
sometimes I'm very tom as to paint very religious and sacred and significant events unless I can share that
with a lot of people and interpret that in a way that it's not sacrilege to my people. That's why I tend to
paint, probably, more flora and fauna now because it doesn't impact or impose or reflect ceremonial and
traditional and religious events, which I feel, to some extent, I keep to myself, you know. But that's a
wonderful story and I love that. And I will paint it one day. And I don't know why I'll paint that one day
but it will be for a special reason.
My great grandmother she died in the late 1950s but she was quite elderly. I can still
remember that because she used to take me and my other cousin and whip us around the legs, telling us to
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 120
get up. She still ate traditional food even when she was living in a Home at the end. I can stiJI recall her
putting the dilly bag on and carrying a stick and collecting turtle eggs. She never slept on a bed. Another
thing that comes to mind now is this tin that she said was buried under the house. And it was to be shared
with her and her sisters. The other sisters dug the tin up and opened it and there were doubloons. Very
valuable. My great grandmother never got any of them. And the other sisters sold them and became very
wealthy and bought property. I remember my grandmother telling me this story. They were greedy sisters
and they would be punished one day. And they died before my great grandmother did. Their off-springs
have inherited it now, but none went to my grandmother. But she wanted us to be good human beings and
to this day I think it was the most wonderful thing she could pass on to us, other than material wealth, you
know.
You asked about my name. Brandy is my maiden name. My father's name was Brandy.
There's a story to it. Back in the 1800s people were given names because of the work they did. I believe my
great great grandfather was given the name Brandy but I'm not sure where it came from. But he was also
held in the highest esteem and was a leader of Aboriginal people. He was given a breastplate. Fifteen years
ago it was put in a museum. So that's where the Brandy comes from and I'm very proud of that.
[The custom ofissuing brass breastplates to Aboriginals who hadfor some reason risen to
prominence in the white community ofNSW was begun by Governor Lachlan Macquarie in 1816. The
plates were issued at a dinner which was held each year at Parramatta. The giving ofplates was thought to
be an appropriate way ofrewarding loyalty or assistance which had been given to the white people,
whether it had been to the Police, Government officials, or to settlers. The plates were given to both men
and women. Hach bore the receivers name, plus a title of"King, " "Queen, " "Prince, " or "Chief" The
recipients were generally very proud oftheir new ornaments and wore them at the end ofa string or chain
which they placed around their neck The officials who maintained this practice did it in the hope of
bettering relationships and certain such benefits were definitely obvious. However, the system overall was
not a good one largely because within the Aboriginal tribal system there had been no scope for any such
uplifted position; in most cases the services for which the plates had been awarded had not benefitted the
other tribal members, and many ofthe new "heroes" were not appreciated at all by their own kind; and the
practice presented the Aboriginals as "oddities" and not persons oftrue substance. The practice ofissuing
breastplates was discontinued in 1830 by Governor Darling (Ellis and Ellis- no year available}.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 121
Racism
I never experienced racism on the Mission growing up. Didn't even know of the word, that it
existed. And even when my parents took us to the timber mill at Yulong we didn't experience it there, as
well. And we were the minority, we were the only Aboriginal family there. We were treated no different
from the non-Aboriginal people. We didn't know there was any difference. We lived in white kid's homes
and their mothers and fathers treated us as if we were their own. So I never experienced that at all when I
was growing up. And even when I came to the city, I didn't experience it even then. I never experienced it
when I was a young mother. I think the first time when I was confronted with that type of, with racism, was
when my daughter was attending junior college in Canberra and somebody made a remark to her and we
were, my husband and I, so shocked. We didn't know what this thing was. All we knew was that our
daughter was upset because she had been called "black." And, of course, my husband was right into the
movement and he wasn't going to have any part of that. And so we went to the school and confronted their
teachers and the parents of the child and we were able to resolve it to the point that the child apologized and
my daughter accepted that apology. And to this day, it has never really bothered me. It has never been
directed at me personally. I know of it. And I know I'm associated with it. But for me personally, I've
never experienced it
I've always let people know of my Aboriginality. And I've always associated with Aboriginal
people. I've got involved in the Aboriginal community where I live. So people have known of my
Aboriginality right up front. And my husband's much darker than me and, in fact, he was very anti-white
for many many years, you know. And very involved with the struggle. And he, in fact, was one of many
who were involved with the Aboriginal Embassy in Canberra and who fought long and hard for the
struggle. I don't think it's the lighter skin. I think it's how you treat people, too. And how you deal with
issues. Just for me personally, I think iflife hadn't treated me the way that it did, and I had a chip on my
shoulder, I think I could have created an environment around me for people to have racist attitudes toward me. But because, basically, I've had a very, very good upbringing and knew right from the start of my
Aboriginality, and lived that lifestyle from an early age and carried that throughout my life, I've got that
confidence and very sure of who I am. But maybe that was reflected on people. But I don't know. I just ...
but I've never ... I knew who I was, known right from the start.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 122
I don't know a lot about my white heritage. T'm not sure how many generations you'd have to
go back but I'm sure that there is. But my grandparents were both Aboriginal, both my parents were
Aboriginal, my great grandparents were both Aboriginal. Now after that I cannot tell you. I really cannot
tell you. I don't have that information now, but we do have that information in the family because we've
conducted family trees. But to me it's never been really relevant because like my immediate family- going
back to my great grandparents- because there's still not mixed blood there, it's all Aboriginal. It's never
been really relevant to me, but I'm sure that there is, the further we go back. And the same on my father's
side as well. His parents were Aboriginal - my grandparents - and my great grandparents were Aboriginal.
Now when we get to great great grandparents, they were Chinese on that side - on my father's side. My
great great grandfather was Chinese. But my great great grandmother was Aboriginal. So Chinese is there
on my father's side. That's as much as I can tell you.
I'm not an easy person to become angry. But one thing that will make me quite angry is when
people question my Aboriginality by saying things like: "You're only half Aboriginal." or "You're only
quarter caste." I hate that word. I really hate that word. And the way that I answer them is by saying that
I'm Aboriginal, there is no half, you know. But they say things like "You're not really a true Aboriginal,
only traditional people are." And that gets me most angry because I feel that's no fault of our own. I try to
explain to people and they say: "The Top End people are the traditional people." And I ask ifthey're aware
that in NSW Aboriginal people got the ftrst impact of the invasion, you know. Our tribal groups were
disposed of their families. That white settlement was here. And you look today, and it's happening today,
through the mining companies, because of that. In those days, 200 years ago, nobody wanted to deal with
the NT. As far as they were concerned it was useless land, you couldn't do a damn thing with it. So that's
why traditional people, as you call them, have been able to keep their culture intact. Because they were
never invaded, I guess. Because of the impact of the frrst invasion- white settlement in NSW- we felt that
invasion, and we suffered that invasion, and we were dispersed and put off our homelands of our
forefathers and our mothers, you know. That was not our doing. And we tried to keep our traditional
culture, our lifestyle, our religion intact, as much as we could. I feel now because of that impact it's more
important for us to want to keep it intact and pursue it, whether it's through art or whatever, and tell those
stories. Because I know the stories. If they've been handed down, they were never written, it was always
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 123
oral information, and now I want to put that information into art work, and tell it through my art work. All
those stories, yeh.
Becoming an artist
I think I probably got into art more on the end of my work in the public service. I needed to
come up with something that was going to sustain my lifestyle. I needed to learn to do something, or get
into some sort of job. But at that time I was actually painting but I was using it as a hobby for me. And I
never really took it totally seriously and I was doing lots of paintings for friends and giving the artwork
away. And friends were saying: "This art is good. You should be selling it." And I didn't think it was good
enough. So I used to do it part-time and then I decided we'd see if it would sell. And we put it into some
galleries and it sold. And I thought maybe I could make some additional money from it That's how it
really started and it just took off from there.
I paint relating to stories that I've been told, as a child. I sit down at my desk and think what
am I going to paint. The first thing that goes through my mind is probably things that I was told as a child. I
might have been told about a corroboree in a particular place, that my grandmother told me about, and I
think, yeh, and I really get into that, in my mind. And then I draw from that and put it onto board and put it
into an art form. I paint both ceramics and canvas. I probably like the ceramics best because they are so
beautiful, and because you can very much tell the story you want to, and do it in detail and put it on
ceramic. I like to do it also on canvas because that leads to exhibits and gives people greater access to your
stories or your art. It's difficult. I think I have a very smart preference for the ceramics but I like to paint on
canvas as well because that's where that pitch might reach, in terms of exhibitions and that.
Working on my art doesn't make me more Aboriginal or more in touch with myself. But I
think what it probably does is it gives me an opportunity to record oral history that has been handed down
to me. It's difficult to explain. While I'm painting I become very nostalgic and you sort of go back into
when you were a child and it really does take you back to a place, a time, and an event. Very much so. I
experience that no matter what I paint. It will take me back to a specific time or occasion and that will be
the theme for that particular art work that I'm doing at the time, because I have no idea what I'm going to
paint when I sit down. I have none at all. And it's almost like "astro" travel, like a nostalgic trip, back into
time when I was very happy and very secure. But it's an opportunity for me to put into art form the oral
history about people. I don't need to validate my Aboriginality. Never feel I have to do that. I have very
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 124
strong ties to my history, in terms of who I am. And that's certainly shown in my grandfather who was very
prominent in making great changes in the Aboriginal movement. He was seen as a leader by the Aboriginal
people. So I felt very secure. I never felt that I had to validate or prove who I was. I've always felt that very
strongly. But I've also felt a very strong need to keep some sort of record, so to speak, in terms of our
history that has been handed down. And Tguess Tuse my artistic way to put it into my art work, for
commercial purposes, as well as other ways of painting. Anything I paint is a story.
In some cases I write these stories on my art work for people to understand. In other cases I
don't. It's a sacred thing. Maybe I don't want to share that with other people. And the other reason I make
those choices is because I feel that my ancestors might not want me to share them with other people, if it's
something that they wanted to keep specifically for us and to hand that down. And if I feel strongly enough
about that, well, I don't give the information on that, or I change it and it may reflect it but not truly. Yes,
but mostly I will give the story to them. Defmitely.
I don't have one particular artist that I respect. Well, maybe that's not true. I admire Namatjira
for his artform, although it wasn't a traditional way of painting. It was a very European way that he painted.
I guess what I liked about his artwork more than anything was that it reflected his homeland. You could
really relate to that. You know, the gum trees, the dry river beds and mountains. It was very Australian. My
interpretation of his art work is that he painted things that were very dear to him, very emotiona~ his
attachment to the land and that. And he reflected that in his art work. I was amazed that as an Aboriginal
person he didn't paint in what was expected as the Aboriginal "traditional" style of painting, but rather in
the European style of painting. But I still really admire his work. Artists today, I mean I have associations
with a lot of the artists- people like Bronwyn Bancroft, Sally Morgan- Tknow all of those artists and they
have their own style of art work and I admire what they do. I'm certainly not influenced by it. I tend not to
go to a lot of exhibitions and look at a lot of other art. I don't know why I don't do that. I just feel ifl have
an opportunity to go along and see some of the art work- I've certainly read Sally's book "My Place"- we
all have a story to tell and we just have to tell it in our own way. And we're very different, our art work.
And we have our own unique style of expressing ourselves. And I think my art work reflects my thoughts
and my dreams and my aspirations, and it also reflects my history and how I want the world to see it. And,
of course, Bronwyn has to do that with her art work as well, which I respect. And Sally Morgan, and other
up and coming artists as well.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 125
"Baribunma"
In the few months before I return for the second phase ofmy research in Aboriginal Australia, Pam opens "Baribunma," an Aboriginal Art Gallery/Tourist Shop in Redfern. This is an important event in her life, the culmination ofher dream. She shares with me the goals for her new enterprise as well as her feelings, as an Aboriginal woman and an artist, in embarking on this somewhat ground-breaking business endeavour.
"Baribunma" is a Bundjalung word and I had to get permission to use that word. So I had to
go to the elders and they've given me permission to use that word. And I feel very honoured that they
respect my work. I don't know that they understand it, this contemporary style of art and that, but being a
descendant of the Bundjalung nation, and they've certainly known my history. And Baribunma means "to
dream it" in Bundjalung and I thought that was very appropriate to use on our label in relation to the art
work that I do. We have just opened the shop - it's only about eight weeks old, I guess you could say that.
Eight weeks ago I wasn't even thinking about opening a retail outlet. I thought that we may do that, but that
would be some time down the track. But an opportunity came up for us to get very inexpensive premises to
open. And we had some money at the time and I thought maybe this was a good investment and let's have a
go at it. So we opened the Baribunma shop, it's eight weeks old, doing well. Certainly we can see the
growth already. We've expanded a little, in very subtle ways- we can see it growing, so that motivates us
to move ahead and push it as much as we can. We wanted to basically keep it family, because I've always
had a very strong tie to my family. We feel for us it has to be kept in the family. If we have the good
fortune to make it successful I want to hand it down to the family. I'm also encouraging my children to
participate in the art work as well. And my son is currently managing the shop. And he's very artistic and
we're starting to carry some of his art work as well. My daughter hasn't shown any artistic inclinations at
the moment, but she's the brains when it comes to keeping the records up to date and keeping track of what
we're doing. So everyone has a certain contribution to make and it has worked out quite nicely, in fact. So
we're able to call on each person's talent to keep the business going. So she'll be the backbone behind
keeping up the records on the computer, setting up the system here, and being in charge of the business side ventures.
We also want to eventually have exhibits in the gallery. We want to do it this year, but we're
not sure when. We want to get the shop running smoothly first and that will alleviate me from being
involved so I can spend more time working on an exhibit. I think long-term, perhaps not long-term, but
ideally I'd like to see coming out of the retail shop a wholesale component where we can have a
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 126
retail/wholesale outlet. 'Cause I feel I really want to promote custodian art and encourage it. [Custodian art
means art from NSW.] I would like us to possibly become one of the main wholesale suppliers to many
Sydney outlets, and interstate as well, of traditional and custodian and authentic art. I think that NSW at the
moment is very, very much saturated by Northern Territory art, which disappoints me a little bit. I know
that the demand's there. If the demand's there you've got to supply it. But I think in the process NSW
custodian art gets overlooked. And there's so much good art out there now. And people are wanting to
know all about NSW art and it's coming into it's own now at the moment and I think there is a market out
there for it.
We're in a wholesale/retail area and because of that we get quite a number of the general
public who will come into the area. And we attract that market. Actually, I think they're quite surprised
when they come here, wanting to buy clothing from some of the clothing outlets here. But I think they are
pleasantly surprised to come upon our shop. Because it is unusually located in amongst all these wholesale
outlets. So we pick up some of the market there. And we get a lot of tourist buses that come into the area,
so we're able to tap into that as well. We also want to establish our own links with tourist outlets and
groups as well, to bring them into Redfern as well, to visit the shop. People who are going through to the
airport will stop off here. But we're just starting to get known. It's starting to spread. So we're able to tap
into quite a diverse market.
It has amazed me, since we opened the shop, the incredible support we have got from the
Aboriginal community. I thought we might have had some criticism -who were we, why were we doing
this now, because in the history of Redfern it has never been done before, to open an arts and crafts shop. I
think non-Aboriginal people have attempted to do it, but it has failed for some reason. It was interesting
that, okay, we're coming in here, we've not done a lot of research on it, we're really coming in here blind
when you think about it. But we've got 12 months on our contract so we're going to give it a go. And the
day that we opened we had all the elders in the area that came to the shop and provided morning tea for
them. Not an official opening. Our first day of training and they wanted to come and give the stamp of
approval on it, which they did. And it was really overwhelming for me. But it was not only that. It was also
your average mum and dad and your child, and your Aboriginal person that lives in the area, that came into
the shop and said to us: "Good on you. You're doing a good job." It's almost as if it is their shop. They're
so proud ofBaribunma, you wouldn't believe. And whether it's people who are down and out, who don't
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 127
have the same good fortune that we have, they're still coming in and saying "Good on you." Eora Centre
has been wonderful. The artists have come up, so I feel like I have their support down there. And, of
course, I support them as well. And I have a very active interest in Bora and its exhibitions as well. So
that's been really wonderful because we thought we would get a lot of criticism. Yet there have been a lot
of people who have stayed away from it, and not come in as I thought that they might Of course, it's still
only the early days right now. They come in gradually as they hear about it. All the major community
organizations have all come in and given support- Children's Services, the Land Council- they've come in
and purchased items. They stop in to say hello. It just makes you feel so proud.
I really want to push custodian art since we're right in amongst the local artists. And at some
stage we want to promote their art as well. While we're pushing Baribunma now, there will come a time
that I'd want to expose other art from the area. That's something, that we see ourselves as sort of a role
model in the area, and we hope that we're able to provide employment and career opportunities for the
local people in the area at some stage. I think that's our mission statement. Certainly an outreach thing, and
empowering other artists. And if I can do it - an average, ordinary person - then others can. We all hope
that Baribunma grows and develops so that we can put something back into the community in terms of
employment and provide career paths for Aboriginal people. And we see ourselves doing it perhaps in
conjunction with Mamaru, the employment centre, which is directly across from us.
I certainly hope to be financially independent and to provide a living from Baribunma. But to
be able to use it to promote my own art work. I'm not putting this in very good words. But for me to have
this shop, it just gives me a lot more control in exhibiting my art and my work. It gives me a greater avenue
to push the work within my own space. So that's one thing. To make an income from it, but also to push
and promote my work, my art. Right now we have to work with my own art work, but if we can expand,
with the local art in the area 'cause these people don't have a venue or avenue of being able to exhibit that
work. There's not a lot of options for them at the moment. You've got places like Boomalli. In fact, I just spoke with someone this morning and he was going to meet with Boomalli to see if he could put some of
his work on display and his comments were that it was not so easy to do that. His complaint was that there
just wasn't anything readily available for Aboriginal people to do that. Down the track we hope to expand
so that we can take on local artists' work and exhibit it. And certainly that's one of our objectives. And
again, it's promoting NSW art, which is also our objective. By doing that, we're not only promoting it but
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 128
we're keeping the cultural aspect of our people's art and religions and cultural ties. And we want to do that,
'cause we've lost it there for a long time and I think now we're really just starting to fmd it again. There
was a very long time that NSW art wasn't represented and now that there's a broader market out there, and
a greater appreciation of that, then there's more varied and interesting works coming out.
I can only see really positive things coming out of Baribunma because I think we're long
overdue where an individual's got up and said: "We now want to look out for NSW artists. We want to
promote this work. It's great, it's here, it's alive, it's well. It represents our culture. And we want to give it
to the wider community and make them aware that we haven't lost that culture." And I think, because of
that, our people will be very supportive. I think it wants someone to stand up there and say: "We're going
to look out for custodian art. We want to promote it. Carry it in our shop." And I think, given that, they will
get behind us and support us because it's never been done before. And I'm not saying there haven't been
Aboriginal businesses ever established in NSW but I guess often it's been second best art, to reach the
market at the time. But we're certainly not going down that track. We sell good stuff here, we want it to be
unique, we want it to be ''urban" and keep it NSW custodian work. The National Indigenous Arts
Advocacy Association (NIAAA) are very supportive of this. I think they're very proud of the fact that
we're keeping this uniquely NSW. And we would have no problem in having their full support. We'll
certainly be given the Authenticity Label without any problems at all. So they're aware of what we're
trying to do here in Redfern, and they're very supportive. We've certainly got NIAAA on board, and the
locals.
Actually, I'm a little bit surprised because I thought I would get a little bit of flak from some
of the men artists. And by that I don't mean that they would be critical of me, but I feel that they would
have to go through this process of protocol, you know, how Aboriginal women are placed in society, and
you have that chain of command you'd have to adhere to. But it's been quite interesting because I haven't
really experienced that yet. I've had a number of Aboriginal artists come into the shop and these artists
want to display their artwork in the shop. Even though, at this stage, we have to say no, we really don't
have the space nor the staff to do the artwork on consignment and do the bookwork. And they've really
taken it quite well, and they appreciate the fact that we are quite efficient and that we're really pushing our
own art at the moment. But we're of the view, if we become successful, we really want to be able to expand
where we can exhibit and sell local art. That's part of our vision of where we're going. That's been really
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 129
surprising for me. In fact, we've had a lot more men artists approach me than women artists since we've
been set up. And they've been very complimentary about my artwork. Very supportive. There has been no
negativity to come out of it, which is really great.
I think it's got a lot to do with the fact that people know my background and my family
history. And my grandfather was very political, very outspoken, and very much a campaigner for NSW
blacks. And when people know your family history and know that you're a descendant of that Aboriginal
person who has achieved so much for Aboriginal people, they look up to you to breaking new ground, and
making things happen. And they can be very supportive. And it's almost like they give you big-time respect
because of your family history. They know my background history of my family's involvement in
Aboriginal Affairs, the fact that I am a local, born and bred here in Redfern. They're very proud of the fact
that we set up our business here. That's one of the major points that they raised. Our people are in business
but they take it to other places and they forget about Redfern. So we've got a lot of support because we're
here. I don't know that's going to be case in the long term. For me personally it is, but financially. But we
really want to be instrumental for bringing people to Redfern, for positive reasons, not negative reasons.
And we certainly want to be a role model for other Aboriginal people who are thinking of going into
business, whether it be arts and crafts, or a supermarket, or a fruit shop. We really want to lay the ground
for other people to do things.
I've thought about this a lot and it's just recently, just six months ago I was thinking what am
I going to do for the next twenty years, and hopefully if you've got good health and that sort of thing. And
there were no answers there. And then fourteen weeks ago we weren't prepared for this shop/gallery and it
just happened, and so that has changed my whole outlook on life. It's just given me a new enthusiasm to
really give back to the community. I feel really passionate about that. And I've often thought how can I do
this, how can I best give back to the community. Because I've been blessed with good health. And my
children are reasonably happy and settled, and supportive of each other. And there's so much poverty here
in Redfern and disadvantages for Aboriginals, my people, you know in lots of ways. Education,
unemployment. If there aren't any opportunities out here for our people, people won't give my people the
opportunity. So ifl can turn the shop into a successful venture, and we can expand, I feel the way I can give
back to the community is through employment. And being an employer of Aboriginal people, empowering
them and training them and giving them some sort of skills to be able to operate one of their own
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 130
businesses. Even though we're looking at retail now, we want to expand into wholesale, and we see
ourselves as being a major supplier of authentic Aboriginal custodian art. And we want to be a supplier to
other outlets in NSW. We want to be the watchdog on custodian art, to ensure people are being given
unique, authentic work. And that's looking after artists and ensuring they get financial return and
recognition for their work, and for us to be able to be an avenue for this. And, of course, we'll be creating
employment for Aboriginal people. So ultimately the dream and its benefits will be on a major scale.
In the last fifteen years, urban art has really come to the forefront. Prior to that there was none
around, it was done behind closed doors. Like there were artists out there but it was very similar to what we
might call "sweatshops" where the work was being done but the value wasn't being paid on the art work,
and was being distributed throughout NSW and Queensland (Qld), probably more so in Qld. But now
people are aware there is a demand for the work, and there's a market out there for urban art, there's been
all these artists coming out in the open, being able to express their culture through their art. And people are
appreciating that there is a marketplace for it. I certainly don't think this is the end of urban art. I think this
is just the beginning, that's my gut feeling. But I think there is a revolution within urban life, and that has a
lot to do with the changes taking place in the paintings from traditional areas. There seems to be a trend
toward the urban art, and they're moving away from the traditional art forms and they're more or less
moving toward a more contemporary and urban style of work. So maybe this is the future trend of
Aboriginal art. But also too, the art was never an avenue for people to promote their culture, but now that
there is a market for it, an awareness of it, and a demand for it, it gives people a base, an avenue, to be able
to keep their culture alive and well through their art work. And I don't think that's going to die.
Probably for the first time in my life, I feel that I have been reborn again. I feel that I am able
to do my art work and have it represent me as an Aboriginal woman and artist. I've established my name
out in the marketplace where people are starting to recognize the name. And it's getting recognition
overseas. So I think that I need to be known as a household name in order for me to do more for my people.
With the recognition I get and the acceptance, I will be more able to take on more artists and help them to
gain recognition. I really want to bring the good art work to the front, and show that we haven't lost our
culture but we're able to bring it to the forefront now. Through Baribunma that's what we want to do.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 131
Issues in the Aboriginal urban art world
An important issue in the Aboriginal urban art world centres on what urban Aboriginal
artists should draw on in their art forms - what traditional symbols, what traditional designs, what regional
aspects, whether they can use dots and cross-hatching. Various cultural institutions, including Boomalli
(an indigenous urban art cooperative in Sydney), question whether artists ofNSW should be using dots.
They suggest that some ofthe art work ofurban artists is not representative ofthe artist's regional
connection.
As far as I know there is no evidence that dots and circles were not used in NSW, and
certainly there is no law that says NSW artists cannot use dots or lines or whatever. NSW art is basing a lot
of its art on lines, but that's also used in traditional art as well. So where do you define and say: "We can
use lines, but you can't use dots." And you've got to look at our culture too, you know. In the traditional
way, we hunted, we used animal signs to hunt, why can't we depict that in our artwork? That was part of
our heritage. We had borer rings and they were part of ceremonial meeting places and that consisted of a
circle, so why can't we dot a circle, saying that's our ceremonial meeting place. And I truly believe, not
only did trading go on between different tribal groups in traditional days, l think their art work was
exchanged as well. And where I come from, Baryu1gil, there are very sacred sites, up near the Dorrigo
mountains. How am I expected to paint something and want to express my cultural background by not
painting a borer ring and dotting or circling that? If I think that was the way it was, then that's how I'm
going to paint it. Nobody is going to tell me what to paint. And the other thing is that people say these
things behind closed doors. They never really come out and say openly that something should not be. It's
really a matter of how you develop. Some artists might be influenced by traditional work but I don't think
that they continue to do that throughout their lifetime. In the early days they may use that as a guide for
how they want to express themselves. But I think they basically go and find a niche that they're
comfortable with and what best represents them in the area that they come from. I use dot forms in some of
my art work, but I don't use it as an expression of a ceremonial or tribal thing. It highlights the thing I'm
focusing on. The dotting emphasizes or highlights the background, and is not part of the main theme. But I
feel I have the right as an Aboriginal artist to use the dots as I choose to, to use the lines as I choose to. If
it's relevant to what I want to express on canvas or art board I will do that. And I think that applies to most
artists.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 132
I would ask who has appointed Boomalli as the watchdog of the arts. What makes them the
more superior person who is overseeing this art. If they're making these comments then they need to get
out and talk to people and they need to justify the reasons why they want to criticize people's art work and
where it is coming from. I've yet to have anyone from Boomalli walk through my doors here at the
shop/gallery yet, to even congratulate us for being established here, let alone criticize the art work. That
would be very interesting if that were to eventuate and I think they would be in for a bit of a shock. I see
Boomalli showing favouritism in terms of the art that has been exhibited over the years. I'm sure that it is
changing its direction now, and that it does represent NSW art, but I think it has leaned more toward
Central Desert art in the past. So here we are trying to establish our goals as an avenue for NSW art and I
don't think we're going to take a back-seat to any criticism that comes from Boomalli. They've been
around for a number of years and they were here in Redfern for a while and maybe because of that they
might think that gives them the voice to be the spokesperson for Aboriginal art in NSW. I don't think that's
the sentiment of the community at large. And if they have a problem with the art work they really should be
meeting with the artists and talking about it. I think they should be seen as more supportive ofNSW art.
Anyway, we're here. Baribunma's not going anywhere else. And while we keep the art work alive, we keep
the culture alive as well. I think that, with our culture lost for so long, we're able to express our culture and
heritage through our art. And be able to get this art work out there, and gain the respect, and bridge the gap
between people, I think. And give people a greater appreciation for our culture and our art, and that can
only open doors for reconciliation. For too long we've been seen as a people who don't have a culture. And
people often say to me "You don't have a culture." And I find that very annoying. Because now it's alive
and well through our art work.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER9
"KATINA"
Memories of my childhood
I was born in Forster at the old Cape Hawke Hospital in the mid 1960's. Mum was a week in
labour with me and she said if I was a boy she was going to leave me at the hospital as she already had four
boys. I was pretty distant with my brothers. Out of my four brothers the closest that I was probably to was
the youngest of the four boys and the one after that. There was six years difference between me and the
youngest brother and then there was another twelve years difference between me and the next brother, and
probably fourteen years between the last two. So I didn't really get to know them too well, the last two. But
the youngest of the two lived at home while I was around and, yeh, had a bit of time with them. But then
they'd take off and go surfing and I'd say: "Take me, take me." And they'd say: "No sis, we can't you
know. Who's going to look after you?" So it was pretty ... there was a big gap. I've only got a few
memories of spending time with them. I went everywhere with mum and dad. At times I got bored, but
other times it was nice to be around them. As I got older I was always staying at my friends' houses in town
or somewhere else. So not always lonely. Three of the brothers married, one didn't. One still lives at home
with mum which is good because she's not on her own. The other three have been married and divorced, all
three of them. And they've got kids. But I feel I've caught up with them now, in my relationship with them,
and I'm almost on the same level. I can have a conversation with them now.
We didn't live on the Mission and we always lived out of town, so I didn't mix that much
with other Koori kids other than my cousins. Actually, I felt right in the middle when I realized there was a
difference. It wasn't until people starting saying to me comments such as: "I didn't realize you were
Aboriginal" that I became aware there was a difference. I started to feel a bit caught in the middle because I
didn't live on the Mission, I lived out of town, and all my friends were white. I think they all thought I was
stuck up and it wasn't that, it was that I was shy and stuff like that. And then to have white kids say:
133
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 134
"You're not like the other Aboriginals" was a bit confusing at times. I have a memory of living up Kullaroo
Drive which is the industrial area. We had an old house out there. And from there we moved out to about
probably five minutes out of town to a place called Follyfeet Farm which is on the way out to Pacific
Palms. And from there we went further to the caravan park at Santa Barbara, and mum and dad managed
that, and gradually, right after that closed down we went to Pacific Palms.
Had some good memories of growing up. I spent a lot of time with my aunty and my cousin.
My aunty used to take me fishing up the lake and get me oysters. She'd cook them in the fire sometimes
too. My cousin was a lot older and she had so many pretty clothes. I'd dress up in them all the time and put
on her makeup. I used to have fun there. Mum and dad taught me how to catch beach worms. Mum and dad
caught beach worms from as long as I can remember. 'Cause also it was a way they made extra money.
They used to bring them in and sell them to the boatsheds in town here and I was always with them when
they went to do it. So from the age of five I had been catching beach worms. I caught my first one then, and
it's just with what they call a burleigh, which is a really smelly fish, or a fresh fish. The smellier the better
'cause the worms come up and you just wave that in the water down at the beach and the top part of the
water goes back and the worms poke their head out of the sand and you use pippy to feed them and use
your fmgers. And some men use pliers to catch them but we've never, we've always just used our fmgers to
catch them. But mum and dad were making a living out of it. Work was really, you know there was nothing
around 'cause dad always cut timber all his life and stuff and mum always cleaned. So mum cleaned
houses, flats, caravans, you name it. So that was their work. So when things were difficult we'd go and
catch beach worms. You'd have seven worms in a packet and we'd sell them for two dollars or one dollar a
packet. Now they sell them for two dollars a worm! They also collected green weed that grew in the
estuary. They would grow in pools of water and dad would just go with a bucket and scoop it out with his
hands and wring it out and get a bucket full and bring that in. They'd sell that also because the fishermen
used it to catch black fish. I spent a lot of time in the bush as dad used to cut timber, corkwood (I think they
used to export that overseas) and cabbage palm spears. This was all ways of making money.
Racism
Mum and dad used to manage a caravan park and it was the best place to live, it was about
fifteen to twenty minutes out of town, about halfway between Pacific Palms and Forster. I think they did
that for a few years. I loved living there. It was fantastic. On one side of the park was the beach and the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 135
other side was the lake. It was excellent. At Christmas time it was just amazing like to go to bed that night
and the park would be empty and to wake up the next morning it would just be full, like all the kids. Mum
and dad wouldn't see me all day because I'd be off with the kids and their families. We never came across
racism there. Actually only once I experienced racism. That was probably when I was about fifteen. And I
was down the street in Forster, with my girlfriend. And there used to be an old pinball parlour in the main
street of Forster that was run by a really old white guy. And I think she was Asian, his wife. And we
walked in there one day and was just looking around and she just kicked us out because we had no money.
But she told me, you know: "Get out because you don't have any money and you're black." That was the
first time. But other than that I've never come across serious racism. I've overheard it but I haven't heard it
directed at me. That incident didn't bother me much. 'cause we were a bit rude to her anyway.
When mum and dad first came here, mum (who is really fair) went to get her hair cut and the
lady wouldn't cut it because she was Aboriginal. They moved here to Forster, over thirty years ago 'cause I
was born here - maybe over forty years ago. She may have been darker then but my memories of mum like
when I was young, and that might be because of dad 'cause he was so dark. Yeh, she went to get her hair
cut and the lady said: "I'm sorry Mrs. D I can't cut your hair." But she was an apprentice and the actual
woman that owned the shop didn't come and tell her that. She sent her apprentice to tell mum that and the
apprentice had said: "I'm opening my own shop soon in Forster. So come there any time and I'll cut your
hair." I haven't asked mum how she felt about that. Mum's from Taree originally, around the Wingham
area, and then they moved down to Newcastle. So mum spent most of her life growing up in Newcastle.
And Dad was from more near Port Macquarie and ended up down near Newcastle as well. Dad, I can't
remember him ever talking about it [racism]. And mum said there wasn't racism where they were living at
the time. There were black and white living in this sort of one community and they were all doing it hard.
Like those are things I haven't asked her, but I will ask her now.
I've always been aware of who I am [my Aboriginality] but not what it meant. Now I think it
means a connection to the land, a connection to where you're from. 1 think that's what it is. I started my
schooling and finished my schooling in Forster at Grade 10, the School Certificate. I remember in 5th class,
when I was ten, the principal wanted to see all the Koori kids after class and off I went with them to see
him. When I came back some of the white kids said: "We didn't know you were Aboriginal. You're not
like the other Aboriginals." My first thought was what was wrong with being Koori and that it must have
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 136
been something bad to be Koori. This was the start of my awareness that there was a difference. I didn't
talk about it with anyone, I just became aware of a difference. I didn't come across racism at school, it was
just comments like that which were racist but they were ignorant to the meaning of their comments.
Aboriginal history wasn't a big part of our curriculum, not like today. I think when Tobwabba started the
wider community was really proud of it, not only the Koori community but Forster itself are really proud It
tends to just come out but I think people don't know what they're saying, that they're sounding patronizing
by saying: "Well, you guys are doing well. It's so good to see you do good, you know." I don't like it at all.
And other people have said: "Well, that's going to keep them off the street," not realizing that that's a
horrid thing to say. I think there is still some racism around, a subtle form I guess. It's hard to say just how
far it has come, Forster, in racism, because there are a lot of white families here that if they traced their
family history they will find some Aboriginality there. There's a lot of families here in Forster that won't
acknowledge it. But then their kids have grown up and probably one out of the kids will acknowledge it
because they wanted to know, and they may have found out accidentally or whatever. I've come across one
girl like that, who wanted to know, against her family's wishes.
You can do anything ... or can you?
I never knew what I wanted to do when I left school, I had no idea what career I wanted to
pursue. Our careers teacher in high school used to ask me what I was going to do and it kind of worried me
because everyone else knew what they were doing. So I chose air hostessing which was a joke because I'm
scared to death of flying. There are so many career opportunities for Kooris today. Ifl knew then that I
would end up working in a black organization I could have pursued any career. Ifl had more cultural
awareness I could have chosen anything from art coordinator, administrator, community development or
even manager. If I was more aware of my Aboriginal culture and saw that there was going to be a need for
Koori people to be in these positions I would have had direction instead of picking air hostessing. On
reflection, it was probably a white person's job but I didn't think there was any reason I couldn't do it. I
never felt there were some jobs that Aboriginals just couldn't do. And that's something you become aware
of when you get older. You become aware that maybe that's why I didn't get that job. When you're
younger you can do anything.
I did enjoy high school, though. It was a chance to see my friends as it was lonely at times
living out of town. I loved sport and I ran in every athletics carnival since primary through to high school
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 137
and played every team sport except hockey. I hated hockey. I had strong friendships at school and there
was one big group of us who hung together from day one at school through to high school and I'm still in
touch with a couple ofthose girls from school. My school life was happy, hard at times because of my
shyness to speak up and speak in front of people, but I had some fun times. I enjoyed bashing the boys in
primary school. After high school I started a secretarial course with the technical college for twelve months
and this was okay as it was like being at school again with your friends but no school restrictions (you
could smoke).
I moved out of home when I was seventeen. I moved out in about fifteen minutes, not because
I had a fight with my parents but because I was so excited about living in town (in Forster) with my
girlfriend. I found out later that it broke mum's heart, but she didn't tell me till later on in my life. Dad
wouldn't even visit me in my new flat because it was so dingy. We had, what was it, orange cupboards and
purple curtains. Just horrible. We lived in an old flat that was upstairs and he would come with mum to see
me but wouldn't come up. He wasn't angry with me, he just wanted to see me live somewhere nicer. He'd
say "Why does she want to live here?" We had some fun times there, getting drunk and meeting heaps of
guys and going to parties. Mum and dad were never that strict with me because I remember when I just
turned sixteen that they let me fly to the Gold Coast for a week's holiday with my girlfriend on our own. I
asked mum later on why she had let me do that as I don't think I'd let my daughter do that at that age and
she said that they knew what type of person I was and trusted me. I guess they were right because I knew
my limitations and what situations I could cope with but my girlfriend was pretty wild and she was a white
person. All my friends at this time were white. But there was also Theresa, Tracey, and Anita, from the
Aboriginal community, they were in the same year as me in school. I played sport with them guys and I
knew them when I finished school and that. I'd sort of run into them. But mainly my best friends were
white.
That same year I moved out I got a job as a secretary with a building company in Taree, but it
was only a three month work scheme through Social Security and I hated it because I wasn't learning
anything. I've only ever had two permanent jobs so far. I also worked for a surf company through the
summer and twice at the shire council in engineering and the rates department. But these jobs were still
only schemes. There still isn't a Koori person working permanently in their indoor staff. Mainstream
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 138
employment only employs about five Kooris. If it wasn't for the Land Council and Tobwabba the
unemployment rate would be fairly high.
Some white people don't like the fact that there are positions that are designated to Kooris, as
they see it as being racist, but ifthese positions weren't available we wouldn't get jobs. It happened at the
National Parks, for Steve [Katina 's boyfriend]. Like the feedback he got from those guys out there, that had
also gone for a temporary position the same as him, but the other guy was white, their feelings were that it
was a form of racism. It shouldn't have happened. The white people had the same opportunity as there were
two positions. Like one was for a white person but there was also a designated position that a Koori person
be employed at the National Parks as well. That position fmished up after three months. They did extend it
but Steve and the white guy had to reapply for the same position and Steve lost out, although he had more
qualifications than the other guy. It is racist I guess. Having special positions and that. But it's positive, if
you can say that. It's needed. They don't understand that if it wasn't for these positions we wouldn't have
opportunities as they have. There wouldn't be employment in this area.
There's not many Kooris working in the mainstream here. I think my brother is one, and I
think there's probably three or four other Kooris that are in the mainstream, like the building trade or doing
other manual work. That's in this area. And the women. I can't even think of one in mainstream
employment. Just ask the question why? I mean I was born here, I had a good education, I went to college,
I had skills, I was straight into work and I only ever managed to get schemed through Social Security - they
go for three months and the government pays your wages. I only ever managed to get those until I worked
for the dentist and he was the only guy that ever gave me a job. And he would say I did really good work.
He didn't have a problem. But I'd been for other positions and lost out. I think equality in mainstream
employment has a long way to go yet.
You'd be very lucky also if anyone came out of the Community Development Employment
Program (CDEP) into mainstream employment. The only way it would happen is to do what the
Regeneration Team are doing over there at the Aboriginal Land Council. They're getting contract work all
over the region. Unless little groups like that- like a building group, to build houses - go out and get
contracts in the mainstream. I don't know how the mainstream people would see that 'cause they're
working for less money so it's going to cut into their work as well. I wouldn't want to work back in
mainstream employment again. I didn't mind working at the council but after working in a black
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 139
organisation you can see the difference. There's a more relaxed atmosphere, your job has more meaning,
we're not all working to make one person rich, we're working together as a community. My other
pennanent position was with a dentist as a dental assistant which I picked up really quick. He wanted me to
become a dental nurse but my boyfriend at the time had a problem with me working there. So I stuck it out
for eighteen months and I also realized that I didn't want to look down people's throats for the rest of my
life.
"Winning the Lotto"
My dad had won lotto when I was in my last year of high school and he shared his winnings
with us kids. He went into the pools, which was another fonn oflottery, and then lotto came out and he
started that. I think he had eight to ten games on a ticket and he only took four games and it was the fourth
box that he crossed of£ I remember that as clear as a bell. We were living in like a one bedroom long
house, like all jammed in together. And dad was still working, like really hard work. My dad and my
brother, who lives at home with my mother now, they were like landscaping together. Dad was in his
sixties and he was lifting big heavy rocks and doing manual work pretty full on. Working. And the truck
they bought to do the landscaping work with was bought with hire purchase so it was just like endless bills.
Couldn't get too much work. But we were happy. You know. But then dad- he knew he was going to win.
Because my cousins had come down for that weekend from up at Wauchope and when they left, the last
thing he said to them was: "Doesn't matter. Everything's going to be fine after Monday 'cause I'm going to
win lotto." And they say to this day: "God, I wish I had a tape, to tape Uncle Bruce saying that." And he
wasn't excited when he won. He just said: "Mum, I got six numbers." And we were just going ballistic. He
didn't show any emotion at all. I buy some now and then but not much 'cause I don't think lightning
strikes twice in the same place. I buy it sometimes if I feel down and sorry for myself and I think: "God,
I've got to go buy a lottery ticket." Society makes money important. Money is what makes the world go
round. At times it gets me cranky because I just want a simple life. I don't want the pressures ofhaving to
go out and buy this and buy that. Got to have a home. Got to have a car. Got to get things for my children.
Like I said, society makes it important. Once you're exposed to it.
Contentment, Restlessness, and Loss
My money was tied up until I turned eighteen but tax was eating it up so my parents bought a
block ofland for me with my money. I wish I still owned that block as it would be worth a fortune today.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 140
But I ended up selling that to mum and dad 'cause my girlfriend and I were falling behind in rent. They
bought a brand new unit in town in Tuncurry for me in exchange for the land. I lived there for the next five
years. It was nice living there and at one time nearly all my friends from school were living in the same
block of units. My girlfriend moved out to live with her boyfriend and my boyfriend Ivan moved in. Ivan
was originally from New Zealand. He was living in Tuncurry too and we met and we got together and he
moved in. I think I was just so young- seventeen. And I was feeling a bit lonely because my girlfriend had
just moved out with her boyfriend. Ivan and I stayed together for nearly fourteen years. I don't know how
we lasted that long. We fought from day one but we had some memorable times. The first five years were
excellent because Ivan took me to places I hadn't been before. We travelled around heaps and we went
camping heaps. I did a lot with Ivan. He showed me a lot of places. I think we just grew apart in the end.
He had different views to me. I had just turned eighteen and I'm not into my culture at this stage and I think
it was because I wasn't exposed to it. 'Cause all our friends were white. But I knew he was Maori, he was
pretty connected then to his culture. He was into Twae Kon Do, almost a Black Belt, when I met him. But
then after we got together he didn't do that anymore and I think that changed him actually 'cause he was
really calm and sure of himself, happy with life. Twae Kon Do offered him something positive, but when
he stopped that he changed. But no, I wasn't exposed much to my culture. I was proud to be Koori but still
didn't have a deep understanding of my culture and at this point I wanted to sponsor a child through World
Vision and wanted to go and work and help in these third world countries. I sponsored a little boy from
Libya for two years and we wrote to each other and sent photos. I loved doing it. Then after two years he
no longer needed my help as his dad was working. It was strange that I had this need to help people who
were suffering and yet I wasn't aware of the poverty and injustice in my own culture at that time. And then
I think someone had mentioned to me: "What are you doing that for? How come you don't help what's
going on in this country?" So I didn't sponsor anymore.
I sold my unit and we moved back in with mum and dad which was strange because dad died
a year later, 1987, which had a huge impact on me, and still today. It was after dad had died that I was
becoming more aware of my culture and the cruel things that had and were still happening. It was weird
that I moved back and was able to spend that time with dad. I was starting to feel stronger about wanting to
do something, I wanted to know more, I was wanting to feel a bit more connected to who I am, I wanted to
paint. Things were starting to influence me but I can't remember exactly what. But after seeing some of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 141
these documentaries and that • about the problems with Aboriginals and the mining issues • I said I wanted
to do something about it. Not knowing much, I was embarrassed that I didn't know. How do you stop this?
It's still going on. That's when I started to feel mad about it, and cranky about it. Cried about a few things.
And I think that's when I started to ask questions of mum and dad. Like she then told me some stuff that
made me cry. I wish dad was alive now because there's so much I want to know. I question mum nearly
every day and I'm pushing her to write her life story, not to sell but so I've something to pass onto my
daughter when she wants to know more.
Tracing my family history
I'm also tracing my family history now and mum has shared a lot of information about her life
growing up and dad's life. She has told me about the hardships they had bringing five kids up, their love for
each other and how strong it was, things that have made me cry and stories that have made me laugh so
hard. I enjoy these times with mum. They're really special and I think that I've never gone through things
like she went through. And also how thankful I am to those Kooris who fought the system and had us
recognized as Australian citizens in 1967 and fought for our rights. It is frustrating tracing family history
because I can only go back to my great grandparents which is the mid 1800s and before that my people
would have been tribal and I'll never truly know where they were from. I didn't meet either grandparents
from either side of the family. They had all died long before I was born. I'm interested in mum's mother at
the moment and there isn't much information on her. She doesn't even have a birth certificate. I know her
mother died when she was two or three years old and that she was taken away and put in the Cootamundra
Girls Home and then put out to service when she turned sixteen. But we are unable to fmd any records at
the moment from that Girls home which is now a Bible College. But mum said that my grandmother said
don't bother to try and fmd out anything about me because you won't. Mum and them weren't allowed to
ask questions in those days. I think she just lived in fear of the authorities. She never told you much at all.
But I know that the first three daughters she had were taken off her because we think she was on her own
and Australia had this policy where they systematically removed Aboriginal children from their families.
The reason they didn't take my mum away I think is because she had a white father. It still amazes me
about the conditions my parents and grandparents must have lived under.
We'd really like to know more about my great grandmother. And even though her death is
registered to the day she died, we just know that she died when she was twenty·seven years old, and where
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 142
she was buried. Nothing else on her. Don't know about sisters, brothers. And the name 'Crinton' which is
my grandmother's maiden name- can't fmd any Crintons. It's strange because Jack Crinton, who is my
great grandfather, was one of the last initiated in Taree. He was a full-blood and we know where he was
born. We've been to the Historical Society. They mainly work around this Wingham area and further West.
Nobody's heard of this Crinton and yet he worked on these properties and died there at age seventy or
something. Nobody's heard of this Crinton. It's really frustrating. I know I'll never know all about them, or
even before them, because they would have been tribal people then - 1800s to late 1800s. They moved
them around so much we would never know originally where they came from. I accept that.
I remember mum would be talking about someone and I'd say who and then she would go
through this list of names that would connect them to our family and I'd wonder how on earth she
remembered all this. Or there would be aunty such and such and mum would say that they never knew if
she really was their aunt because all Kooris call their elders aunt and uncle out of respect. There is this one
aunty they called Aunty Annie. Mum doesn't know if she was really an aunty or not and so that's one
mystery we really want to solve. I wish I had time to really investigate the family history. It's such tedious
work. We haven't gone to the archives yet. There's heaps of places we haven't gone to. Mum can't get
around too much on her own, and I want to be with her when we do it. So yeh. I'd love to find time to do
that.
When my dad died the first thing my mum did was do a computer course and she threw
herself into that. And then she started golf, and then she started bowls and had this amazing sporting ability.
We always thought the sporting ability had come from dad, but no. We used to have a big snooker table at
home and she'd flog me in pool. This little old lady! She's got great sporting ability. But then her and her
sister were going to Alice Springs, her frrst visit. She kept saying I should get out there. And Steve and I
have been talking about doing it. And she was on a camel, and the saddle wasn't done up properly and
mum slid to the ground, got her foot caught in the stirrup, wrenched her knee. And my aunty was in
remission from cancer for a while, and she was injured with a cracked vertebrae. And they were only three
days into the trip and they spent the last seven days drugged up with painkillers. But they laugh now. I
would love to spend time in a remote community. That is my wish. I've mentioned to you that there's
nothing here on women's business and women's culture. And I'd like to learn more of that. I honestly think
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 143
that's a piece that is missing from my life. It makes me sad ifl think about it. I need time to do it. Steve
says I need to be patient. Perhaps one day I'll meet someone who will guide me in that way.
"Why didn't they tell us?"
Mum was brought up in a white society. I've talked to her about it and she said they lived
down in Newcastle and they all lived in this one big area- black and white. There was no "black lived over
there and white lived over there." So she grew up where it was integrated. Dad was from up near Port
Macquarie at Rollands Plains and he was born on this land up there and that's where the whole Davis clan
lived. Dad started working when he was nine, like in the bush and stuff. Dad had a really - from stories
mum has told me, not from stories that dad's told me- he didn't sort of share much ofhis childhood and
memories. But what mum's told me is really sad Really stuff that's just made me cry and lay awake at
night and just feel for him. Stuff from when he was little and growing up. And what had happened to his
sisters and stuff. And I also found out through my cousin, my dad's sister was her mother, my aunty, I
asked her the same thing: "Why didn't they tell us these things that had happened to them?" And she said
that mum had told her that they had been through so much pain and so much cruelty, they didn't want to
share that with us, and have us grow up with bitterness. Which I just thought was amazing. Like these
people had gone through it. We hadn't gone through it. They had gone through this. And that wasn't their
way of thinking. They weren't out there to, you know, they just wanted everyone to just get on. That made
me think that I've got no reason to be bitter. They just didn't want their children growing up with bitterness
and hatred and cruelty. They wanted to put an end to it I think. I think as long as the wider community
acknowledges that there were some bad things done, some rotten things that were done, and they
acknowledge that, then I think everyone can start being healed. Like go through this process ofjoining
hands. And I just think, and that's important that all of Australia acknowledge that there is a black history,
it was one of the worst atrocities done, and they acknowledge it. When people do that, and when Koori
people can see the wider community acknowledging it, then the healing process will naturally develop.
Sometimes I do see progress and sometimes I don't. I mean when the Pauline Hansons [she
represented a political party in the electoral race for Prime Minister, several years ago, and her platform
largely denounced a multicultural Australia, in some ways going back to a "white Australia" policy ofthe
past) of this world come out I think, oh God, you know, Australia's just taken a big step backwards. But
you know, out of everything rotten, something good comes out of it. And then I think it depends where you
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 144
live too. You sort of feel the difference. I mean because I work in a black organization and I'm around it
and stuff. And you go out west a little bit further where there isn't a black organization and the population
ofKoori people is almost zero, like you don't see a black person walking down the street, you sort of tend
to feel that things haven't progressed much. So I think it sort of depends where you live.
The joys and pains of motherhood
I sort ofknew I wanted to have a baby around twenty-seven and twenty-eight 'cause I had
started to slow down, like as in going out and getting drunk and having a good time. That part of me was
slowing right down. Also I think I had run into a couple of girlfriends from school and they had kids or
were pregnant and the question always came up "When are you going to start?" Yes. So. I was twenty-eight
when I fell pregnant. Ivan and I had been together for some years. I'm just thinking back, I was so happy to
be pregnant, and everyone makes out it's a happy occasion. And everyone was happy except my mum.
She'd always said: "Don't rush out and have kids, you know, there's plenty of time for that. It wouldn't
even matter if you didn't have any kids." I think she just knew what a chore it was to bring up a family, and
she didn't know how many kids I wanted or that 'cause bringing up five kids like they did was pretty hard
at times. So she had always said don't rush out and have kids. So I didn't tell her until I knew for sure and
she'd taken me to the doctors. She thought I had a virus and she said: "I knew something was wrong." And
I told her Twas pregnant, but I think she was a bit scared 'cause I was her only daughter.
I had post-natal depression and it was awful. So, post-natal depression they say it lasts for
about two years and at the end of two years I was back to my old self 'cause that's sort of how I was
feeling, with the old "Katina" gone. But I was really concerned if it had affected Kirby's life in any way,
like being depressed for so long. Was I a good mother to her? So she's a really strong child, really out
there, opinionated, very outspoken. Opposite to me. I was always shy growing up, shy to do things, quiet
you know, never speak my mind about things. My brother's would probably say the opposite, that I was
spoilt rotten. And then I thought having an only child she's going to be spoilt and then I thought ifl had
five kids I'd spoil them all rotten.
Ivan and I separated two to three years ago and he's with a white woman and she has two
little boys, a couple of years older than Kirby. But the arrangement I have now with Ivan is that he sees her
for a week at a time, and I have a full week. And it's been really difficult because I miss her and I'm
concerned about the white influences on Kirby and whether it will stop her growth in coming aware of her
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 145
Aboriginality. But hopefully it won't. I think it will balance because Steve and I and my family are so close
to Kirby that she'll be aware of that fairly strongly when she's with us. And like Ivan will introduce her to
her Maori culture as well 'cause they've got a really beautiful culture too as well. So it's really important to
me that she takes on her Aboriginality.
I'd love her to get her education, go right through school, go to uni. [university], do whatever
it is to get a really good education and hopefully that she'll bring it back and work in a community, in an
Aboriginal community, be able to use those skills. But, you know, if not that's okay. I'll still be proud of
her. And that's hard. Because I speak to mum about things like this and she always has this thing that you
kids always had choices. They always gave us choices. Nothing was ever forced on us. Religion wasn't
forced on us. Education wasn't forced on us. I had the opportunity to go further in my education, you know,
they asked me and I chose not to. That was fine. So I've been able to make choices. Whereas I don't know
ifl can do, like I'll let Kirby make choices but I'll be constantly pushing awareness ofher culture to her,
and the injustices. I feel I missed out on it. And not through the fault of mum and dad or anyone. I wasn't
exposed to my culture, exposed to like you know the bad things that were happening out there to my
people. So not being exposed to it, I didn't ask any questions about it and then it hits you hard when you do
become aware of it, and you say why wasn't I aware of this when I was younger. By not being exposed to
it, not only through family, like I'm always exposed to it in my family, but in schools and that. You know,
Aboriginal history wasn't a big part of our school. Not like it is today where there are Aboriginal programs,
there's you know, they've got choices. But it was the same old story- Captain Cook landed here rah rah
rah. So I sort of: I don't want that to happen to Kirby. Not that I turn around to my mum and say: "God,
mum, why didn't you tell me about that?" I want Kirby to know from an early age so that when she's in her
twenties she might be able to make a decision: "I know what's happened, and I know what's needed out
there." She might go in that direction. But maybe not. I don't know what she'll be.
Becoming an artist
My painting was helping me to express who I was. I wasn't too sure what the traditional
symbols meant but I knew I wanted it to have a meaning. So my first painting was a turtle which was my
dad's totem. My second was about the family, sort of like a family tree. My third painting was called
'wetlands' and it was about protecting the environment. So I realise now that my paintings were how I felt
about things, or places that I visited and what I saw, and others were experimental. I had never painted
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 146
before and I didn't like art at school. My paintings were simple and colourful, because that's how I was
seeing life. At this time, I was about twenty three or twenty four.
Starting at Tobs [Tobwabba Artists' Cooperative] was a great learning process for me. I loved
the artwork they were doing and didn't think I was up to their standard. Russell [Russell Saunders, artist
and teacher ofAboriginal art at Tobwabba] was a great teacher but he left shortly after I started. It was
scary starting there too because everyone that painted there had a strong connection to the community and I
felt like an outsider because I had never been involved in the community. My shyness through life has
always given people the impression that I was stuck up and I know that this is what they thought of me. But
I wanted to get to know everyone and I wanted to paint. Working there helped me get through a lot of
personal problems I was having at that moment. I loved working in a black environment. Kooris have such
a deadly sense ofhumour. We're always poking fun at each other or someone's always got a funny yam to
tell. I learnt a lot more about myself and my culture and my painting started to develop more because I was
getting exposed to more of my culture. And as a person I'm more relaxed with who I am since I'm working
at Tobwabba.
It was when T started at Tobs that T met Steve and instantly thought how lovely he was. He
had such a nice nature and knew so much about our culture, the traditional culture. Two years later we
would end up together and still are together. He has taught me a lot and shown me some special places and
explained things to me. After seeing some sites and being in the bush my painting developed further, very
different from when I first started. And being with Steve, he has shown me more of the traditional side of
the culture, explaining the meanings and that. My artwork had changed and was still changing but then I
started full-time at Tobs and I have produced one painting in the last eighteen months. It is really frustrating
at the moment not finding the time to paint as new projects take up all of your time. It also takes up your
headspace as you don't have that creative mind anymore because you're busy worrying about the business
side of things and coping with pressures that come from trying to do your best with what little skills you
have.
Actually when I first started {at the cooperative] I didn't think I was up to their standard. I
loved their artwork and I thought God I've got a long way to go here. And Russell being there, and he's
such a great teacher, really helped, and I think my art really came along. And I painted, like I sat in a group
with Gaye and Terry, and they were really supportive, helping me, and Russell was. It was good to have
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 147
that support and have someone tell you: "That looks shitty" or "That looks great." So that helped me. I had
heard about the cooperative 'cause they had an exhibition, I think one of their tiles won an award, and Cal,
my brother who was working at the Local Aboriginal Land Council, said to me: "Why don't you go and
paint at Tobwabba?" And I was a bit iffy because I hadn't had any involvement with the community and I
thought I don't know much about it. And then, because I was going through post-natal depression as well
and stuff, I just thought this was the big step to get me back out there amongst people. And I felt it was a
step in the right direction. Yeh. Cal encouraged me to go and paint there, 'cause I had started to paint,
probably two years before I started at Tobwabba.
My art grew a hell of a lot from when I started on my own, and starting with a group and
seeing how they painted. But then I also went through a stage ofbecoming aware of the traditional symbols
and what they meant. And at one stage I didn't paint for a while because I felt that my paintings didn't have
any meaning or depth to them because I was tracing and using cut-outs and just placing animals on a
canvas and I wasn't enjoying doing that and I didn't think it was right. I went through a stage of not
wanting to paint and I guess I was just going up to another level with my artwork. And then I met Steve.
And Steve has a great knowledge of traditional culture and he just opened up, made things clear to me, took
me to some sites and explained stories and meanings of symbols. And I just thought "Wow." To actually
start to get an understanding of it. Like of traditional art. My art is contemporary, modem and urban. And I
also had a problem with using traditional symbols in my art work and I wasn't sure if that was the right
thing to do. You know. Should I take these traditional symbols, was I using these traditional symbols so
that people would recognize that it was Aboriginal art. But I got out of that one. I thought no, that's a part
of what my culture was. Yeh.
My art is just a connection, it's just a connection to your culture. It's not always to get a
message out there. I'm not a political artist. That may come later on. I still paint really simple, with simple
meanings, and it's just where I've been and what has inspired me to paint. Like I might be sitting down on
the beach one day and see a heap of dolphins and say: "God, look at that. Isn't it unreal." And I might go
home and want to paint dolphins. Or when Steve took me to the sites, that had such a big influence on me
that I came back and I couldn't wait to put it down on silk. I enjoy the blend of colours. And I enjoy
working with silks. But the opinion of using dots, that had a big influence on me too. Because dots aren't
originally from this area. I didn't want to use as many dots any more. I mean I was dotting all my
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 148
background, representing the landscape and stuff, and like fmding out that dots weren't originally from this
area and I think the stage I was at when I started full-time work in the office. That was the stage I was
coming to. Like I was trying to steer away from using, you know, less dots and more fluid lines, which you
see in my silks and stuff. Which is hard because I identified with using dots. Used them a fair bit.
It's important to connect to your area, where you're from. So I can understand the Western
artists (remote area Aboriginal artists) being a bit upset with you know coastal artists using dot work
because dot work is from their area. Even though it was used in this area a little bit, like on the inside of
animals and stuff like that. Like I would prefer, ifl knew, of what was in this area, if someone was here to
tell me like: "This is how it was done traditionally, Katina." That would mean a lot to me and I would use
it. Not because it authenticates your work, but because it connects you to your area.
Reflections on Tobwabba Artists' Cooperative
I don't think the cooperative will ever stand on its own two feet without some sort of help,
with funding or something like that, because it's broadly community-based and it's there for the whole
community. It's not making an individual rich or anything. Where it could have that possibility, if that's
what they want, to reduce it to four top artists and get rid ofthe rest. But that's not what it's about. It's been
created for the whole community. And I see it now as being really important for the kids that are growing
up, for the younger generation, it's important that it's there for them. Because of what I went through at
school, not knowing what I wanted to do, not knowing what career I wanted to take, and even feeling like
that after I left school, like wandering from job to job and then bang! All of a sudden I wanted to get
connected back to my culture and my art work, and Tobwabba was there to help me to do that, and help the
process along. So it is really important for the younger generation. And we've already got a couple of
younger artists. They might not want to stay but, like Pep, he's brilliant, and he's keen and he's not on the
street, he's not out there stealing cars, thieving and carrying on. It's a bit of direction, yeh, for younger kids.
Tobwabba's six years old. I think it's done a big cycle and it's come to the end of that cycle
and it's time to take on a new one. And a new direction. It would be great to have like a younger set of
students to be there for us to teach them art. And to get an outcome from them, whether it be a mural on a
bus shelter, which they are going to do, or whether we have six to ten young artists there for a certain
amount oftime producing art work and then to make a calendar out of it. To see an outcome from it, or for
them to have an outcome from it. I mean from kids that are having trouble at school, maybe it could be an
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 149
alternative to come to Tobwabba. And I know they've touched on that. They've talked about that in the
meetings a couple of times. The mural at the buNtop is going to be mainly the kids and then there will be
two Tobwabba artists planning and helping the students. I'm not sure if Steve is going to be involved in it
because they want some sort of theme connected to the area. The boardwalk leads up to a midden site and
they've roped this off and there is a sign explaining this is an Aboriginal site. And if you look at the midden
site, directly behind that is a serpentine wall and the Council wants us to do a painting on that wall.
From working in a white organization and then working at Tobwabba, there's a more relaxed
atmosphere. That's a black point of view. I don't know how Carol and John and Hugh see it [white
members ofmanagement team}. That's my view. And that's mainly the way I act at Tobwabba is the way I
act in my family. That's the real me. We have a really great sense of humour, Koori people, and poke fun at
each other and laugh at each other. You go to work there and someone's always got a funny yarn to tell
you. There's a lot more cruising feeling in that way. But there's a lot of pressure on us also because you're
not skilled in the position, you know, that you're in, so you're trying to do the best in what you can do, with
what little skills you have got. Well, John sets a certain set of rules and he's pretty inflexible at times,
whereas Kooris are pretty flexible people. They don't jump up and down over some little thing. I've heard
Carol say that John treats her different than how he treats us. Like we'll get away with a lot more stuff than
she would. So he's a lot more stricter on her. I guess he feels look here I'm a white guy runnin' a black
organization and I guess he can't help but have a few set of rules. He's not black is he? But he's a lot more
understanding of us, as in not being able to do certain things. I've gone to him and said: "John, I'm not
comfortable doing this at all." And he says: "Okay then, that's fair enough." But I think if Carol went to
him and said: "I'm not comfortable doing that" I think he'd probably say: "Wake up to yourself and go and
do it or your job's on the line." Whereas he hasn't got that hold over us, and there's a lot ofmentoring.
Which is good in one way 'cause you're thrown in the deep end. I look back when I was an artist and then
came into the office for that year, how much I grew in the six months and how much I picked up. But I was
really hungry to learn, and to gain knowledge, and to be able to do projects. So Carol and John have been a
huge help there. Carol has been a great support. She's known my limits and has had confidence in me to do
stuff.
There's a lot of personal things happening to me. I guess like Kirby's been away from me,
that's something I'm still trying to get used to. But it's making me feel a bit sad though. And also not being
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 150
able to paint. And I think we talked about it earlier with Tobwabba as a business filling up your head space
so much so that you can't be creative anymore. You're too busy worrying about the business side of things.
Confidence is the big thing for me. If I'm totally confident in something I'm fine. But I've always been
shy. I've always had a problem speaking up. I've always had a problem voicing my opinions, you know.
And that's been from day one at school. Like I could never handle being made the centre of attention, or
being asked to answer a question in front of thirty kids. I've never been able to handle that. I don't know
why. I don't know where that comes from. And I'm finding that really difficult in this job now because I'm
having to deal with the public, having to speak to people about things, and it's just really hard to do. And at
times I think God, I'm just not going to do it anymore, if this is what my job's going to be like and it's
going to stress me out. Because it does, it stresses me right out, having to get up and talk in front of people.
That's making it difficult at the moment. And plus, yeh, not being able to paint as much is another thing.
Possibly like I said before, this could be me for the next three years, just tackle this
traineeship. Leave my art, you know, not stress too much about not being able to paint. And by the time I
do come back to paint, after you know this is out of the way, I may be painting differently, painting on a
different level. But then I may not paint again either, is another. I might get totally involved in it. I might
gain my confidence. I might see myself growing finally and say this is the direction I want to go. But I'm
trying my hardest at the moment. I'm giving it a go. A couple of weeks ago I was adamant I was going to
leave. Just paint 'cause that was what was going to make me happy. But then something always changes
your mind. I guess I feel a bit weak. Like I think I always say to myself: "Give it a go, Katina. Try a bit
harder." And that's how I got out of that post-natal. I mean every day was: "Try a bit harder. You'll get
through it. It'll be a year down the track before you know it. And it'll slowly fade away." So I'm trying to
do the same thing at Tob. Just give it a little bit longer. See if you are growing in it. Like I can see that I
have grown but now I feel like I've just come to a standstill. I wish I was as confident as Ronnie and that to
get up and talk to people naturally. People say: "It will come, Katina." And I say: "When? It'll never
come." But I'll dodge it and weave it as long as I can.
Breaking away from the cooperative
In the few months before I return for the second phase ofmy research in Aboriginal Australia,
Katina leaves Tobwabba Art and starts working on her art at home, although she still does some ad-hoc
art work for Tobwabba, and they provide some marketing assistance for her art. This is an important event
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 151
in her life, largely influenced by her growing restlessness and unease working at Tobwabba Art, and a
desire for artistic freedom.
Last time I spoke with you it was a toss-up between staying at work or to try to break out on
my own to paint. And basically, that's what happened. I mean the decision was in the process of being
made, of not being as enthusiastic to work for Tobwabba anymore, not because I didn't believe in what
they were doing, but I think I had a stronger urge to do my own thing. And I feh that was taking time out,
whether it be six months or a year, to re-immerse myself in my culture again and go back out and see
different sites, back into the bush, time for myself, and especially time for Kirby 'cause that was what was
worrying me too. And basically that's what I've done. I left in January this year [2000}. And health reasons
too. I was getting pretty stressed out there and took time off to relax, go to the beach, not doing much at all.
And basically, I'm now back to painting, focusing just on painting now and not being influenced by
Tobwabba, but more coming from me tracing my family history, living where I am, basically issues to do
with me. I see that coming out. A bit more confident in my painting, in what I'm doing.
I'm still doing the canvas, and still painting with acrylics. But down the track I'd like to get
into pottery. I'd just love to spend a lot of time doing that and see ifl click into doing it and go on with
pottery. I still do a bit of silk painting but basically just been experimenting with new colours and stuff as
well. I am more relaxed and I am more free. I'm starting to grow again in who I am and I can see the
difference in my artwork. I mean I've only ever done one huge canvas and that was when I first started at
Tobwabba and the one you've seen, my recent one, is another big canvas. I always feel a bit intimidated
when the canvas is big- what am I going to put on it? How am I going to fill it up? But that wasn't a
problem. I sort of had an idea of what I was going to do. And that painting has the mullet running through
it. On the edges are the hairy grubs. I don't know if you've ever seen those, but they're like caterpillars but
they're really fluffy, hairy. And they'll often connect together in a big line and you'll often see them going
along the road as a huge line and that's a sign that the mullet are running out. That's a sign that the mullet
are on, there'll be heaps of mullet out there so you can go fishing. That's what I wanted to put down- a part
of nature- but also that nature means something else. It came out very quickly and I wasn't worried about
colours. Before I used to worry about colours, matching them, worrying if they went together or not.
I think my art over the next ten years will change totally, for sure. The more I explore my
family history, and the more I know about my culture, all that's going to start coming out. When I was first
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 152
interviewed and you did my family life, well I've been tracing my family on my father's side and my
mother's side and the more I know about their stories then that's what I want to put down on canvas. Also
the frrst painting I did after I left Tobs was one for mum. I mean she didn't know I was doing it. About
where dad went fishing in a special spot and where his ashes were put and where I go to connect. And you
go there and you'll always catch a bream. SoT actually painted that. And the view is of Cape Hawke and all
the mountains and the islands and right around to Coomba. So I've painted all that and I've done the centre
as the lake with the mullet jumping out and the shoreline with mum and dad's footprints and I called it
"Poppy's Place." Mum loved it and that's something I couldn't put on the market or something I could
bring into Tobwabba. It's got no meaning to anybody else. But I feel that's what's going to happen. The
more I find out about dad and his people and where they lived, and their history, I think that's going to
come out eventually. I'll probably go through a process where I won't paint any sea life or things like that.
Not political, but I think it's going to be more or less my journey. I know that's going to happen. I wouldn't
market that art through Tobwabba, but have my own exhibition. I still want to paint for Tobwabba, but also
one of my goals is within the year to have my own collection and I think that will be the theme - my family.
It's really hard for me to give away paintings that have a special meaning to me. But I look at people like
Sally Morgan and her paintings, which I absolutely love, and they all mean something to her, about her
family and her grandmother, and where she was from. I wonder how she felt about parting with those. I
guess that's part ofbeing an artist. Yeh, I guess that's what will happen. Both sides of my family history,
my mum's and my dad's, will be covered more. That was mainly one of the reasons I left Tobs was to
spend time to really get right into the family history, which we are doing. But it's a slow process.
I still want to know more traditional stuff. I think that helps you to understand your culture
and blending the two -like the traditional symbols with what you know and with how you've been brought
up. I think I spoke about it before that I wasn't too sure about using traditional symbols and mixing it with
contemporary art, but I don't have a problem with it now. It's part of who I am. And I'm steering away
from the dot work. I no longer do art work using a lot of dots. I know there have been issues about coastal
people using the dots. And that's fair enough. Dot work is with the Papunya people. But not knowing the
local history around here and what was traditionally used is difficult. Although we do know that the dot
work was used within the animals, a lot more fluid lines were used, which is something I am doing more of,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 153
the fluid lines. That's basically what my art work is at the moment, with just a little bit of dot work through
it.
I feel more confident in approaching the canvas and just not having Tobwabba fill up your
head space, in the office work and worrying about getting projects completed. I didn't have a creative mind
for so long and it did start to worry me that I was getting engulfed here by stuff that wasn't interesting me
at the moment. Maybe it will later down the track, I don't know. I was just so worried that I was getting
further and further away from what I wanted to do, what makes me happy. And not to go with what society
commands of you- to have a job 9 to 5, have a wage. It was time to take a step back and try to achieve that
freedom. When I paint now I feel really confident in what I am doing, because of the family history stuff
and stuff that I'm learning at the moment. It's easy to put it down on canvas because I know what it's
representing. I still worry about whether people will like it, but I think that's probably natural. I guess my
art is making a political statement. Like here is one more Koori person, painting their family history. Every
Koori has been affected by the Stolen Generation. I think it will be a natural process for me because I'm
learning of all my family history now. My paintings probably will move more into the political statement
some years down the road.
Where I live out of town there is a guy who works out there and he's on the committee for the
tourist information centre there. He has some Tobwabba stuff out there and sells. Well, initially he was
against having Tobwabba stuffbecause he thought we got enough money from the government so why
should he have to market the stuff. It's really hard because I don't know how to get them interested to know
more about Koori people. If we want to reconcile the white and black people, how do we go about it? I
think sometimes it's like hitting your head against a brick wall. I mean this government that's in and the
statement that was made that there wasn't a Stolen Generation. To have someone like that who influences
society, all the work that's been put into it, and even the artists who are putting the stories down on canvas,
I just don't understand it. It's horrid. And there are these myths, these images that people have of
Aboriginal people. You have to work hard to not bring those myths to truth. If you see a drunken Koori
person, statements are made that there's a typical Aboriginal- drunk. But if we saw a drunken white person
we wouldn't say that's typical. It makes me tired. Sometimes you don't worry about it, but other times it's
tiring. I think the positive side needs to be projected more. That there are beautiful Koori people, that the
Koori culture is beautiful. But when you have media and the government always trying to present this
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 154
negative image then it's hard. There are some positive things happening, and we're not the only group
getting money to support us. We've got our own medical centre [on the Mission] but that's open to both
black and white. If a white person wants to go up to the Mission and see Margaret, a white doctor, they can.
There are Aboriginal assistants. I've been up there and seen white people there and I've thought "good on
you." To actually have white people walk onto the Mission, onto an Aboriginal community, that's good.
Issues in the Aboriginal urban art world
There are several important issues in the context ofthe Aboriginal urban art world. Tn this
research, Tobwabba Artists' Cooperative- with its dual accountabilities as a business enterprise and a
community development tool-faces some tough issues in light ofrecent personnel changes at the Forster
Local Aboriginal Land Council {FLALC}. As well, there is a growing number ofindependent artists along
the coast who largely depend on small coastal tourist shops and art galleries for marketing their art work.
But the representation ofartists' works, primarily by a white population, is not without its problems.
Certainly the use ofthe labels "traditional" and "urban, " and the limited understanding by the wider
community as to the diversity ofAboriginal art forms, can contribute to misrepresentations ofAboriginal
culture.
Talking about issues at Tobwabba as a cooperative, and the future for the artists, I've been
away from Tobs for about six months so I haven't been in touch with the artists about their plans for the
future but I know there are a couple of new artists who have joined. But I think Tobwabba will have to rely
on getting funding from other sources to keep it running. That's one of the main issues. Also the change in
management at the Land Council is causing a lot of disruption because Lorna's [the new manager ofthe
FLALC} going to have her way of doing things and it might be a bit different to other's ways. Cal [the
previous manager ofthe FLALC] was very strong in his opinions and how he got things done. Lorna I think
might be, being new to it, influenced by other people. So I don't know how Tobs will cope with this. I think
that Tobwabba might move into graphic design, the course that Ronnie's [one ofthe artists in the
cooperative doing an art training course] doing, and I think that's really great. They might look at doing
more graphic stuff, doing posters, developing websites for black and white organizations. And maybe they
need a permanent gallery space in Sydney that promotes coastal urban art and the regional network. I don't
know how, perhaps through funding, but I think they need to have this exhibition space.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 155
The other issue was the future for independent artists on the Mid-North Coast ofNSW. I'm
still connected with Tobs, and it's very scary and I don't think I would break that link. Like being away
from Tobs you realise how much they do support you. I don't think you'd get that from any gallery. It
would be nice to just paint and have someone who went out to source galleries in Sydney for you,
promoted you- that's the last thing an artist wants to do. Another point is that independent artists maybe
could be networking amongst other artists, as a group having an exhibition. Or perhaps have an urban art
festival, an annual event in Forster, or a different venue each year and promote urban art and connect
everybody from the city and the country and bring them together.
It's hard to see how "urban" art can play a part in reconciliation. People have to be educated
in why there is "urban" art and to understand our history - the Aboriginal history since European
settlement. We are the result of that invasion and I think ''urban" art has extended from that. They need to
be educated on what has happened, and that we don't paint ''traditional." I remember comments from
people that used to come into the Tobwabba Gallery and they would say: "Oh, it's very different. It's not
very 'traditional.' You don't use the 'traditional' colours and why is that?" And then you'd go into the
explanation that the culture was lost here and we're regaining it and this is the result of that process. And
the diversity of it. It's a lot different from Sydney art. And you can'tjust bracket it under the one label
''urban." It might be a political statement, or it might be a personal statement about family history. The
more we fmd out we want to express it through our painting - release it. It might help us to heal, and it
might be helping other people to heal. It's all the issues that are attached to our history. I mean a lot of it is
not nice. But we have to express it and we want people to understand that it did happen and it's still painful.
I think ''urban" art can play this role [in reconciliation), but I think it's just going to take time and
education. People know what to expect with "traditional" art whereas they don't with "urban" art. They
don't understand the diversity and the reasons why people paint that way. Basically it's a process of your
own life and your history and where you're at.
Another question, when do you draw the line between "urban" art and "traditional" art and
who draws that line and if so, why do we have to accept that? I was thinking last night. Look at all these
categories we're going into, and all these labels. And thinking, what would I think of myself! I think that
I'm just Koori and I like to paint as an artist. I wouldn't go out, as we discussed before, and say I'm
"urban." I think it would be lovely to say I'm an indigenous artist. Probably, from ''urban" art another
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 156
category will come out again, like the difference in Sydney art and country art. But it would be difficult to
just paint from your own region where you grew up, or are living. Other areas influence me, not just this
area. Like going out to Wollombi. That's a meeting place for all the tribes. Just through Steve's knowledge,
you see the rock art is not just done by one clan, but by many tribes. And when I go out to the desert areas,
that will influence my art.
I'd be nervous about how I would be accepted out there [by remote area artists]. It would be
important for me to be accepted, because I want so much of their knowledge. And ifl went out to the
Western Desert, I'd probably paint something quite different back here. Something really special might
happen to me out there and I'd want to express it in my art. The colours might change. lfl feel something
spiritually I want to get it on the canvas. I think it is a positive thing for me, to be self-taught as an artist. I
draw on what is around me. I feel freer to put down what I feel. And ifl did classes now I don't know that
it would have much affect on me at this stage. I guess it's something an indigenous artist can get away
with.
I mean all these thoughts have come to my mind. But it's really up to the individual artist.
You want people to see you as you want to be seen. Whether the labels are "indigenous," "Australian," or
"artist," I think it will be a personal thing. Still, there is the question of who determines the labelling as
"urban" art and why should we accept it. Probably it's been determined by white art critics who have a
different set of standards. I think we need to join more together. I don't know. It's tricky. I see myself as an
artist, not "urban." It's interesting how similar my latest work is to the Keringk:e art. I don't know what
influences people.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER 10
CONCLUSION
And while we keep the art work alive, we keep the culture alive. I think that, with our culture lost for so long, we're able to express our culture and heritage through our art. And be able to get this art work out there, and gain the respect, and bridge the gap between people. And give people a greater appreciation for our culture and our art. And that can only open doors for reconciliation. For too long we've been seen as a people who don't have a culture. And people often say to me: "You don't have a culture." And I fmd that very annoying. Because now it's alive and well through our art work. [Pamela Brandy-Hall, Aboriginal artist in Sydney]
My objective in this research is to understand, in the context of the socio-political relations of
the art world, the ways Australian Aboriginal urban artists form their identities, and the ways circulators
and consumers represent Aboriginal art. Identity formation in this art world is fraught with complexities
and ambiguities. These are influenced by Aboriginal people's social, cultural, political, and economic
histories, as well as the recent national policy of self-definition of identity. Also, the social and political
interactions among producers, circulators, and consumers can both constrain and create opportunities for
artists and their identity formation. Initially, I thought the theoretical framework ofpostcolonialism, and the
ideas of cultural hybridity and authenticity, could be important for the ways artists form their identities. But
these ideas now seem less relevant for the particular situations of Aboriginal urban artists in this research.
In this concluding chapter, I summarize my findings: First, the ways artists form identities; second, the
ways circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal art; third, the social and political interactions among
producers, circulators, and consumers; and fourth, the relevance of the theoretical framework for artists and
their identity formation. Finally, I reflect on the research design, contributions to the discipline, and future
research.
The Ways Artists Form Identities
Most artists seem to form their identities by drawing on their social, cultural, political, and
economic histories and experiences in Australia. They're moving beyond the myopic views of others to
157
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 158
develop a comfort level with their own understandings of their Aboriginality. So they're emphasizing a mix
of the four valuing forms I use as broad indicators for the ways artists form their identities - cultural
hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, a local or regional group identity. And there's a sense of fluidity
as they shift back and forth between these valuing forms. But there are a few artists whose identities seem
to be constrained, in varying degrees, by a burdensome environment. These artists largely respond by
essentializing ''traditional" life ways and art forms. They see this as a way for them to authenticate their
Aboriginality. So they're emphasizing the valuing form of authenticity and not cultural hybridity. But
they're also emphasizing pan-Aboriginality and/or a local or regional group identity. So their ways of
seeing themselves are fluid, not fixed.
My sense is all artists in this research are finding their way back to their cultures by trying to
understand the racial and cultural complexities of their different heritages. They're also exploring
suppressed, hidden, or neglected histories. And they're challenging, through their art forms, not only the
ways Aboriginal people are perceived, but also misconceptions about the type of subject matter usually
expected of Aboriginal artists. Their art forms teach us, the outsiders, what they have been through and
who they are.
In the context of an art world that is often seen by the wider community as "inauthentic" in its
Aboriginality, many artists are developing complicated strategies and social relations for the ways in which
they cope with the larger environment. They're moving beyond the "marginalized" image to make their
mark. In Forster, at the cooperative, they're creating art (including public works), as well as teaching
Aboriginal culture and art in local public schools. Some are furthering their education with art studies.
Some independent artists in the mid-north coast ofNSW are learning the local Aboriginal language, as well
as teaching the wider public and schools about Aboriginal culture and the arts. And some independent
artists in Sydney are doing performances of indigenous song and dance, as well as creating art. One artist
has enrolled in criminal justice studies with a goal of using her art to help young boys in the prison system.
Others are owners of indigenous art galleries and tourist shops.
The words of Russell Saunders, an Aboriginal artist in the mid-north coast ofNSW, seem to
speak for many artists in this research:
In the old days, the shame was put on Aboriginal people so bad they could never walk down the street with their head erect, eyes direct, always
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 159
forehead down, always look at the ground, never look at people's faces. And I was like that. And it wasn't until I got into the art that I started to become proud about mysel£ I started standing more straight. And I was asked to go back into schools and teach so I needed to be strong to serve. And the more I was put up front, to stand up for my people, the stronger I became.
Artists use different iconography, media, and themes to express who they are, their
connections, and their communities. They also emphasize a mix of the four valuing forms. To a degree,
their choices are influenced by their different geographic locations (a small mid-north coast township and a
cosmopolitan urban centre) and contexts (whether they're cooperative-based, independent, at the Eora Arts
Centre, or an inmate at the correctional centre) so there's some diversity. But there are common patterns as
well.
In the mid-north coast ofNSW and Sydney, most artists use the iconography of traditional
symbols, such as circles, dots, lines, x-rays, mimi-style figures. But they articulate a variety of reasons for
their use. Also, artists use the media of acrylic paints, canvas, and boards. Some, in the cooperative, also
use silk and, in Sydney, some independent artists also paint on pottery. And artists in the small township of
Forster draw on different themes to those in urban Sydney, and the different contexts show diversity as
well. But artists' use of animals as a totemic or food source is fairly universal.
Cooperative artists in the mid-north coast ofNSW don't show common patterns in the ways
they emphasize valuing forms. Half emphasize cultural hybridity, authenticity, and pan-Aboriginality. The
rest are spread widely, emphasizing a diverse mix of valuing forms. In contrast, independent artists in the
mid-north coast ofNSW and the different groups in Sydney do show common patterns, in their respective
groups, in the ways they emphasize valuing forms. For independent artists, half emphasize the four valuing
forms. The other half emphasize these except for authenticity. In Sydney, most independent artists
emphasize cultural hybridity, pan-Aboriginality, and a local or regional group identity. At the Eora Arts
Centre, most art students emphasize cultural hybridity and a local or regional group identity. And the
inmate in the art program at the correctional centre emphasizes the four valuing forms.
Important indicators of Aboriginal self-identification can be seen in the term "Aboriginality"-
from a pan-Aboriginal identity to a more local or regional group identity. So it's not surprising that all
artists emphasize these valuing forms (with a mix of other valuing forms). Half emphasize pan-
Aboriginality and a local or regional group identity; the other half emphasize one or the other valuing form.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 160
A majority of artists also emphasize the valuing form of cultural hybridity (with a mix of other valuing
forms) in forming their identities. Only a small number emphasize authenticity but not cultural hybridity.
These artists say "traditional" motifs or "signifiers of authenticity" in their art forms authenticate their work
as "Aboriginal," or make them feel more "Aboriginal." They draw upon symbols or images that are well
associated with the ''traditional" aspects of Aboriginality (such as dots, circles, cross-hatching, and mimi
figures). They're not reflecting their local or regional symbols or images either because they don't seem to
exist or they're not aware of them.
The majority of artists who emphasize cultural hybridity are fairly equally spread between
those who emphasize cultural hybridity and authenticity and those who emphasize cultural hybridity and
not authenticity. In both cases, they're mixing values and ideas from Western and ''traditional" Aboriginal
cultures. But in the former group, they're also drawing on ''traditional" motifs to authenticate themselves
and their work as "Aboriginal." In the latter group, some still draw on ''traditional" motifs in their art
forms, but they say use of these symbols does not necessarily authenticate their Aboriginality. In fact, they
often put their own meanings into these symbols. Others draw on ''traditional" motifs "just for dressing it
[the art form] up." They say because they're Aboriginal their art forms are Aboriginal. And others don't
draw on ''traditional" motifs, seeing them as unnecessary for showing who they are. A few in the latter
group say they draw on the two cultural influences in order to empower Aboriginal people.
The theoretical framework I'm working with (Ashcroft et al. 1995, 1998) presents the ideas of
cultural hybridity and authenticity as largely oppositional. I argue that more nuanced interpretations of
these ideas should take into account the ambiguities and contradictions in the ways artists form their
identities. They're emphasizing a mix of valuing forms that include pan-Aboriginality and/or a local or
regional group identity, not just cultural hybridity and/or authenticity. And they're shifting back and forth
between these valuing forms. So their emphases are not neatly compartmentalised, static, or fixed, but more
fluid. These movements soften the edges of the perceived oppositionality, allowing for less definitive and
more fluid ways of interpreting these ideas.
Representations of Aboriginal Art
Circulators seem to be representing Aboriginal art by appreciating art forms which show the
ways artists draw from their social, cultural, political, and economic histories and experiences. They're all
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 161
emphasizing a local or regional group identity and cultural hybridity. Some are receptive to art forms that
empower Aboriginal people. And a few also emphasize pan-Aboriginality. Only two circulators emphasize
authenticity, but they're also emphasizing other valuing forms, including cultural hybridity. I argue, by
emphasizing cultural hybridity and authenticity, circulators recognize this dynamic, changing art form that
includes the social, cultural, political, and economic histories and experiences of Aboriginal people. But
they also see it as appropriate for artists to "essentialize" aspects of "traditional" art forms and ways of life,
since they're facing social and cultural "gaps" in terms of indigenality.
To some degree, circulators' emphases on certain valuing forms, in the promoting, marketing,
and teaching of Aboriginal urban artists, seem consistent with those artists they represent. This is the case,
in Sydney, for galleries, Eora Arts Centre, and Long Bay Correctional Centre. But there are some
inconsistencies. The cooperative/gallery, in the mid-north coast ofNSW, and the two retail tourist shops
and the design licensing venture, in Sydney, emphasize valuing forms that are not fully consistent with
those of artists in the cooperative.
A majority of consumers also seem to appreciate art forms which show the ways artists draw
from their social, cultural, political, and economic histories and experiences. These consumers are valuing
cultural hybridity and a local or regional group identity (at the cooperative/gallery in Forster) and cultural
hybridity and pan-Aboriginality (in Sydney art galleries). Also, some in the latter group look for "social
critique or engagement with events or issues" or ''works which challenge." They're reasonably
knowledgeable about political discourse relevant to Aboriginal people in Australia. And they're not afraid
to purchase art forms that draw on themes from the Aboriginal past and on shared experiences of
oppression.
However, a few consumers value authenticity alone. They're looking for "Aboriginal art,"
"original tribal work," or "traditional art forms that reference traditional practices." So they're representing
Aboriginal art by appreciating art forms which show the ways artists essentialize the traditional art forms
and ways of life to authenticate their Aboriginality. Their image of Aboriginality is static and fixed, not
allowing for the artists' growth and development as conditions change. Also, this image doesn't take into
account the ambiguities, contradictions, and conflicts that are central to artists' identity formation in this art
world. The small number of artists who do emphasize authenticity also emphasize a local or regional group
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 162
identity and/or pan-Aboriginality. So these artists' ways of seeing themselves are more fluid and less fixed
than the image shared by these consumers.
The Socio-Political Relations of the Art World
The social and political interactions among producers, circulators, and consumers can
sometimes constrain artists' identities. Most artists in this research say widespread stereotypical images
continue to reinforce binary representations of Aboriginality, such that the "authenticity" of their life ways
and art forms is questioned. The consequences of this can be seen not only when artists draw on the
stereotypical image of the ''traditional" Aboriginal in their art forms but also when they say the
"traditional" Aboriginal is, in fact, the "real" Aboriginal. Also, most artists say racist attitudes towards
Aboriginal people continue, and in some cases seem worse. Indeed, Australia's racially-based policies and
practices have had tragic consequences. Many artists have had either grandparents, parents, or themselves
taken from their family homes and institutionalised, severing their social, cultural, and familial
foundational connections.
The social and political interactions can also create opportunities, allowing freedom in the
ways artists form their identities. Circulators seem to show an openness to some flexible understandings of
"traditional" and "urban" art forms, thereby softening the authentic/non-authentic dichotomy created
through stereotypical images of Aboriginality. And they're developing, in varying degrees, a familiarity
with artists' lives, their communities, and their cultures. On the other hand, consumers seem less open to
flexible understandings of the two art forms. But they're open to understanding more of artists' lives, their
communities, and their cultures. As a consequence, to some degree, artists' social, cultura~ political, and
economic histories are recognized, so their identities are less constrained.
These opportunities for artists can, however, be masked by the co-optation that sometimes
follows. This is problematic because indigenous people's ways of thinking and interacting can differ from
those of non-indigenous people. In this research, artists' "copying" of certain traditional symbols could be
seen as an indigenous way of thinking that largely contradicts a Western art world emphasis on
"originality." A number of artists reference traditional motifs in their art forms. These references are
connections to an "ancestral past" because artists say their art forms are "extensions of traditional art" and
are "reviving something which has been lost." Nevertheless, the larger art world says "copying" and the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 163
derivative nature of the art forms is politically unacceptable: Artists don't show "originality." On the other
hand, the Australian public accept these traditional stereotypical art forms. My sense is Aboriginal urban
artists share certain sensibilities with traditional artists so it's natural that they gravitate to similar forms of
expression. But their unique histories and ways of seeing the world also show their works have a style of
their own.
I'm optimistic that circulators' increased understandings of indigenous artists, their
communities, and their cultures could allow for some movement to indigenous ways of thinking. The art
teaching practices of the Eora Arts Centre and the Art Program in Long Bay Correctional Centre work
within the larger frame of a Western art world but they're also incorporating indigenous approaches that
emphasize the oral, narrative, practical, and fluid. Also, some consumers who are frustrated with the ways
in which art galleries operate and interpret indigenous art forms might more readily accept indigenous
understandings.
Artists also seem to be facing up to the pressures of commercialization. They're showing
some control over the ways their art forms and life ways are represented by questioning demands placed on
them by design licensing companies. And they're immersing themselves in the wider community, affirming
their ways of life. They don't seem to be shifting from their life stories and cultural traditions to meet
specific art market standards. Such shifting could lead to the perception by the outside world that their
work is "inauthentic," and not representative of their particular cultural ''traditions."
Theoretical Framework ofPostcolonialism and Its Relevance
In some ways, Bhabha's theory ofpostcolonialism (1994, 1995) doesn't really speak to artists
in this research. He ignores an important segment of the global population: displaced Aboriginal
communities. Also, a theory that seems to hide racism and exploitation, and ignore questions of inequality
of power and control over resources is problematic for indigenous people in Australia. Not only does the
history of colonialism in Australia show racism and exploitation toward indigenous people, as well as
inequalities of power and control over resources, but these issues persist.
Artists are mixing values and ideas from Western and "traditional" Aboriginal cultures. This
is a form of cultural hybridity. But there are not many artists using techniques to resist and subvert the
structures of domination and thus empower Aboriginal people, as espoused by Bhabha ( 1994, 1995). Most
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 164
of their art forms seek to inform their Aboriginality and its diversity, the complexities of who they are, their
particular histories, and their connections to their traditions and the land. But Aboriginal people in urban
(and rural) areas are increasingly moving toward art as a means for asserting their Aboriginal identity. And,
to some degree, they're gaining economic independence. In some sense, they are unsettling the dominant
structures. They're showing their resilience as a group of people- and thus contradicting historical
expectations. And they're also more visible, largely through the sheer magnitude of art works coming out
from urban and rural areas of Aboriginal Australia.
The notion of authenticity - and its iconizing of fixed practices as authentically indigenous -
has a limited relevance to the particular situations of Aboriginal artists in this research. Only a few artists
emphasize the valuing form of authenticity and not cultural hybridity. They're emphasizing "traditional"
symbols in their art forms as a way to authenticate themselves and their work as "Aboriginal." But these
few artists also emphasize a local or regional group identity and/or pan-Aboriginality. And they're shifting
back and forth between these valuing forms. So their ways of seeing themselves are more fluid and less
fixed. Also, some circulators say it's appropriate for artists to "essentialize" aspects of"traditional" art
forms and ways oflife since they're facing social and cultural "gaps" in terms ofindigenality. They say that
artists' invoking of"traditional" elements in their art forms shows a social and cultural void in their lives
rather than a way to validate their "authenticity" for political gain.
Reflections on Research Design
My idea was to use the valuing forms of cultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality,
and a local or regional group identity as broad indicators for the diverse ways in which artists form their
identities. On reflection, they worked reasonably well. But the research also points up limitations. These
valuing forms don't necessarily reflect indigenous ways of thinking. For example, I use the valuing form
"authenticity" to show the ways artists use "traditional" symbols in their art forms as a way to authenticate
their Aboriginality. But the criteria I set doesn't take into account the ways artists put their own meanings
on their use of"traditional" symbols. These symbols don't always authenticate their Aboriginality.
I also think these valuing forms seem to work less well for the purpose of categorizing people. For
example, even if an artist values cultural hybridity as a valuing indicator what does this really mean in
terms oflinking this category to people? Despite artists' emphases on this valuing form, I'm not sure they
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 165
actually see themselves, as a people or an individual, as "culturally hybrid." Rather, they see themselves
with a mix of categories that include Australian Aboriginal, Aboriginal, "Koori," or even a further marker
such as "Wiradjuri." The first two categories encompass a broader indigenous identification within a
national frame. The latter two are connected to a local or regional group identity, or a tribe or language
name. These could be alternative ways of categorizing people that more closely align with indigenous ways
of thinking.
Contributions to the Discipline
"It's about time someone looks at the 'urban' artist and not always the 'traditional' artist,"
said Barbara Weir, an accomplished Aboriginal artist, after I explained my research objectives. Barbara's
response affirms this research fills a void by expanding the discourse on urban-based indigenous artists,
and by ensuring it has relevancy to the people on whom it focuses. It's timely because it fits within the
Decade of the World's Indigenous People (United Nations 1995-2004). And its relevance is not only
specific to Australia but has applications to other indigenous people and the ways they see themselves
through their artistic expressions. This research also shows the complexities and fissures in people's lives
through the use of a multi-sited ethnography rather than a conventional community setting. And it allows
artists' voices and their life stories to play a part in the process of educating the wider community about
their lives, their art forms, their Aboriginality, their criticisms, and their agendas for the future.
Future Research
My sense is there is a need for more research in the Australian Aboriginal art world, with a
focus on urban-based artists, their lives and art forms. One of the interesting things I noted during this
research was the number of independent artists who, for one reason or another, were becoming
disenchanted with mainstream galleries and their marketing of their art. Many wanted to set up their own
small art enterprises, or had already begun to do so. For example, Pamela B.-H. opened her gallery/shop in
Redfern during my field work. Russell S. has his own gallery/shop at Tinonee in the mid-north coast of
NSW. Alanna F. has her own gallery/shop in Sydney. And Debra B. has her own gallery/shop in Penrith.
These artists/business owners have faced some real challenges in the start-up of their galleries/shops. And
they continue to do so. But they're finding ways of coping with some of the conflicts and uncertainties that
come with this type of operation.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 166
What I have in mind is a blending of the two disciplines of socio-cultural anthropology and
development management. I want to examine small urban-based indigenous art enterprises in the
Australian Aboriginal art world, presenting 2-3 case studies on these enterprises. I see this as a
development anthropology project with an expected outcome of achievable recommendations. For this
project I want to use the development management technique of institutional assessment, adapted for small
businesses, as well as participatory field work methodology. Critical to the success of this research will be
the active participation of those I "study" in the overall research process. This means participation in those
early choices on what research I do, the design framework, implementation of the project,
recommendations, and assessment oflessons learned. Such involvement will ensure the research remains
relevant to the participants.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. APPENDIX I
Research Sample
Sampling for artists and an artists' cooperative
As a first step, my criteria for knowing if someone is representative of the urban artists' world
will be:
(a) the artist is of Aboriginal descent, identifies as such, and is recognized by his/her
Aboriginal community to be so;
(b) the artist lives in coastal New South Wales, where the initial impact of colonisation was
most strongly felt;
(c) the artist's work looks to Aboriginal sources for inspiration, but also draws from the life
experience or imagination of the artist;
(d) the artist draws on some components of Western art technique; and
(e) the artist avoids using images that may have ritual significance, such as Dreamtime
imagery (Horton 1994:1121).
My sampling for artists will be purposeful in that I will deliberately choose Aboriginal urban
artists that have some characteristics that interest me: for instance, those artists who have achieved status in
their community and/or the non-Aboriginal world through the successful marketing of their art; a mix of
older and younger generation artists, both male and female, and with differing tribal affiliations or
backgrounds; and those artists who provide diversity within the broad defmition of urban art. The sampling
base will not be large, approximately thirty five urban artists; nevertheless, the heterogeneous nature of the
group will enable me to generalize to the Aboriginal urban artist population. The artists will be drawn from
the artists' cooperative selected for this research; independent artists on the mid-north coast ofNew South
Wales; art students at an Aboriginal art institute in Sydney; independent artists in the metropolitan area of
Sydney; and inmates who are in the arts program at a Sydney-based correctional centre. For the
167
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 168
cooperative, I will use Tobwabba Art, an artists' cooperative at Forster, on the mid-north coast ofNew
South Wales. This cooperative has been selected because: (a) it encompasses a unique form of urban art;
(b) it markets a combination of fine art and tourist art; and (c) it includes community development in its
mandate.
Sampling for galleries and buyers
My sampling will be purposeful in that I will deliberately choose art galleries in Sydney and
Forster that specialize in Aboriginal art, either a mix of''traditional" and "urban" or purely "urban" art in
its varied forms. For galleries, the sampling base will not be large (approximately six); nevertheless, I
expect this sample size to be adequate to be able to generalize to the art gallery which markets Aboriginal
"urban" art. For buyers, I will be guided by recommendations from specific galleries and/or the cooperative
or artists themselves where they might have independently sold works. I will also provide to participating
galleries a one-page survey for buyers. Again, the sample size will be small but will be adequate to be able
to generalize to the buying public of Aboriginal "urban" art.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. APPENDIX II
Research Schedule
Preliminary Fieldwork Completed - 1998
Meetings in Australia with Boomalli Aboriginal Artists' Cooperative in Sydney; Tobwabba
Arts Cooperative in Forster, New South Wales; the Curator of Aboriginal Arts at the Art Gallery of New
South Wales; officials of ATSIC (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders Commission); faculty ofthe
Anthropology Department at the University of Sydney; and art gallery management at Coo-ee Aboriginal
Art, Jinta Desert Art, Quadrivium, Soul of Australia, and Gavala Aboriginal Cultural Centre in Sydney.
Discussions with faculty of the Economic Policy Department at the Australian National University (ANU)
and officials of AIATSIS (Australian Institute for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies) in
Canberra. Library research at the University of California at San Diego (UCSD) in California, USA and the
Mitchell Library in Sydney, Australia. In Aprill999, Boomalli Artists' Cooperative informed me their
Board could not accept my research at this time.
Fieldwork Completed June-December 1999 and February-July 2000
In Forster, New South Wales: participant-observation research with Tobwabba Arts
Cooperative for 4 months, interviewing 20 artists (12 male/8 female) and completing a life story with one
female artist. Also interviewed independent artists, cooperative management, gallery management, buyers,
and community members living on the Cabarita Aboriginal Mission.
In Sydney, New South Wales: observation and interviews with arts students at Eora Arts
Centre in Redfern; with inmates in the Arts Program at Long Bay Correctional Centre in Malabar; with
independent artists, totalling 16 artists (11 male/5 female); and completed a life story with one female
artist. Interviewed art gallery management (Coo-ee Aboriginal Art, Hogarth Galleries, Gavala Aboriginal
Cultural Centre, Rainbow Serpent Gallery, Boom Gate Gallery at Long Bay Correctional Centre), buyers,
and representatives of cultural institutions (Art Council of Australia [Indigenous Section], Australian
169
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 170
Tourism Commission [Indigenous Section], Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission [ATSIC],
the National Indigenous Arts Advocacy Association [NIAAA], and the Art Gallery ofNew South
Wales)Buyer's surveys, left with participating art galleries in December 1999, were collected June 2000.
Attended art gallery exhibitions of Aboriginal art. Reapplied twice to do research with Boomalli Artists'
Cooperative. The research was rejected in November 1999 and April 2000 based on limited resources
available. However, a new Board member agreed to be interviewed as a cultural critic within the
Aboriginal urban art world, and not as a representative Board member ofBoomalli. Collected background
and statistical data from the Ministry for the Arts (NSW) and the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS).
Meetings with the Anthropology Department and Fine Arts Department of the University of Sydney. A
research journal has been completed; and interviewees have completed informed consent forms.
The research schedule is in four stages:
Stage 1. Collection and reduction of the data (Yr. 1999-2000)
Stage 2. Breakdown of groupings and relationships (Yr. 2001-2002)
Stage 3. Drawing and verifying of conclusions (Yr. 2002-2002)
Stage 4. Write up and defense of the dissertation (Yr. 2001-2003)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. APPENDIX III
Data Analysis Plan
This section shows how I will use my data to answer my research question: In the context of
the socio-political relations of the art world, how do Australian Aboriginal urban artists form their
identities, and how do circulators and consumers represent Aboriginal art?
Three sites integral to the Aboriginal urban art world - production, circulation, and
consumption - serve as the thematic framework for data analysis. I anticipate there will be overlaps in the
data for the production, circulation, and consumption sites largely because of the interdependencies of these
sites. Preliminary research suggests the theoretical ideas of cultural hybridity and authenticity could be
important in the process of identification and representation in the Aboriginal urban art world. Important
indicators of Aboriginal self-identification can also be seen in the term "Aboriginality" - from a pan
Aboriginal identity to a more local or regional group identity. Therefore, data analysis will include within
the thematic framework an assessment as to whether artists: (a) value cultural hybridity; (b) value
authenticity; (c) value pan-Aboriginality; or (d) value a local or regional group identity. The analysis will
be conducted in such a way as to investigate the inter-relationships between these valuing forms and the
nuances of individual identities, as well as the identification of overall themes and patterns. As a separate
and discrete exercise, I will examine life story narratives ("quattro pagine") of two female Aboriginal urban
artists. I anticipate the analysis ofthese life story narratives will provide in-depth examples of some ofthe
trends and issues identified in the group analyses.
Some of the measures I suggest below for determining what different groups (artists, art
management personnel, and buyers) value might appear simplistic. I don't intend to make simple
judgements about whether people might value cultural hybridity, value authenticity, value pan
Aboriginality, or value a local or regional group identity. Rather, in the overall data analysis, I will be
considering the complexities involved in how and why people might value one form over another, or value
171
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 172
multiple forms. And, because I'm exploring very complex issues that are open to ongoing negotiation and
re-shaping, I don't expect to have a neat fit within the valuing forms. It's likely that artists might tend to
value multiple and overlapping forms, rather than valuing one form. As well, artists' words might tend to
be somewhat complex, contradictory, and conflicted, often resulting in multiple, shifting, and blurred
identities. This is largely due to Aboriginal people's particular social, cultural, political, and economic
histories in Australia, as well as the recent national policy of self-determination, with an emphasis on the
self-defmition of identity.
An important point here is that Aboriginal people often feel that direct questioning is rude -
too much questioning by white people is seen as simply a continuation of colonial behaviours. I will need
to be very gentle in the way I go about collecting data. This includes the somewhat academic style of
questions here which, in the field, I will soften and rephrase to suit the individual situation.
Socio-economic Background - Data Analysis for Artists
Questions for artists in terms ofsocio-economic data:
Are you from this area? Where were you born?
Are you single, married?
Do you have children? What are their ages?
What is your age range?
What are your sources of income?
Participants
Mid-North Coast, NSW
Coop. Artists Male (8)Female (7) Independent Artists Male (4)Female (1)
Sydney, NSW
Independent Artists Male (4)Female (4) Eora Art Institute Artists Male (6)Female (I) Long Bay CC Inmate/Artists Male (1)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 173
FORMAT FOR SOCIO-ECONOMIC DATA
Artists/ Where born, lived, Age Marital Status/ Sources of Income Questions now live Children
Production Sites - Data Analysis for Artists
How do artists represent different identities in the production of Aboriginal urban art? It is
likely that artists in the small township of Forster might draw on different iconography, media, and themes
to those artists in metropolitan Sydney. This is because people have different affiliations and objects they
can paint. As well, there are the differences between an urban and a small town lifestyle, and the different
market influences. In the differing contexts (working independently, in an artists' cooperative, in an
Aboriginal art school, or in an art program at a correctional centre), artists might show some diversity in the
use of iconography, media, and themes, which may or may not be significant. Within these two geographic
locations and diverse contexts, my analyses will not only investigate how and why artists might value
cultural hybridity, authenticity, a pan-Aboriginal affiliation, or a local or regional group identity, but I'll
also investigate the inter-relationships between these valuing forms and the nuances of individual identities.
Questions for artists in terms oftheir relationship with the artists ' cooperative (and for independent artists, arts students, and inmates in the art program at a correctional centre, in terms oftheir relationships with their organizations, and their marketing techniques):
How long have you been with the cooperative?
How would you describe yourself before you joined the cooperative and became an artist?
What were you doing?
Reflecting on your childhood/adult years, what events might have influenced your interest in
art?
Do you have an artist that serves as a motivating force for your artwork?
In what ways does your family/community support your interest in art?
In what ways does your work with the cooperative influence how you see yourself?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 174
Do you feel you have more respect as an artist, in comparison to other jobs you have had? In
what ways might this respect be shown and by whom?
How involved are you in the cooperative's day to day operations and decision-making?
How important is Aboriginal management of the cooperative? How might such management
differently affect your self-image?
Do you tend to identify yourself as an individual artist or as a member of a group connected to
an artists' cooperative?
How do you market your artwork and how long have you been doing this? (independent
artists)
What led you to do art training at Eora Arts Centre/Inmate Art Program and how long have
you been in the program? (arts students, inmates)
How would you describe yourselfbefore you joined Eora and became an artist/inmate at
correctional centre? What were you doing? (or what else do you do if art is part-time?) (arts
students, inmates)
In what ways does studying at Eora as an artist/Inmate Art Program influence how you see
yourself? (arts students, inmates)
Have you ever been connected to a cooperative? What are your views of cooperatives?
(independent artists)
What is your goal from doing this arts course at Eora/Inmate Art Program? (arts
students/inmates)
Questions for artists in terms ofcultural hybridity and authenticity:
How would you describe the art form you work with?
Do you draw on some ''traditional" motif for your work? How would you describe this
"traditional" motif?
In what ways does use of this "traditional" motif authenticate your work as "Aboriginal?"
Does use of this motif make you feel more "Aboriginal?" In what ways?
In what ways do you draw on Western ideas, motifs and techniques in your art?
What themes do you work with in your art?
What part(s) of your art has changed over time? Why? In what ways?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 175
What part( s) of an art form make it "authentic" Aboriginal art? Why?
What are the meanings/images/messages you get from your art?
What does "being an Aboriginal urban artist" mean to you?
Questions for artists in terms of pan-Aboriginality and local/regional group identity:
What do you know of your Aboriginal heritage?
What event led you to explore your Aboriginality?
How do you identify yourself? (e.g., Australian, Australian Aboriginal, Aboriginal, Koori,
Worimi, or some other label)
In what ways do you familiarize yourself with political concerns for Aboriginal people in
Australia? Are you associated with political organizations for Aboriginal people?
How do you see yourself/community/Aboriginal people in relation to the numerous ethnic
groups in Australia?
What are the attitudes of people to Aboriginals in your location?
What is the signifier for your community's Aboriginal culture? (e.g., a ''tradition," a myth, an
historical story, religion, poetry, folklore)? How has this signifier changed over time?
Questions for artists in terms ofbinary representations
In what ways might the terms ''traditional" and ''urban" influence stereotypical images of
Aboriginal people and their culture?
How would you describe Aboriginal ''traditional" art? ''urban" art?
Which art form do you see as more adaptable and able to change? Why?
Questions for artists in terms oftourist art, fine art, and the indigenous image:
If you work with both fine art and tourist art how do you identify these different types of art
forms?
Are there distinct forms of imagery for each art form?
Do you have a preference for working with !me art or with tourist art? Why?
Do buyers of Aboriginal urban fine art/urban tourist art want to know about the artist and
his/her culture?
How will I categorize artists?
I will categorize artists in terms of: a) their geographical location, whether they are living and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 176
working in i) the mid-north coast region ofNew South Wales, or ii) metropolitan Sydney; b) their
affiliation, whether they are i) members of an artists' cooperative, ii) independent artists, iii) art students in
an Aboriginal art institute, or iv) inmates in an art program at a correctional centre; and c) how they
identify themselves, whether they i) value cultural hybridity, ii) value authenticity, iii) value a pan-
Aboriginal categorization, or iv) value a local or regional group identity.
How will I know ifthere is a valuing ofcultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, or locaVregional group identity?
If there are artistic exchanges evident in the art forms, then it is likely that artists value
cultural hybridity. For instance, these artistic exchanges could be between the desert and the "Top End" of
Australia, as well as influences from non-Aboriginal artists (Neale 1994). The hybrid art forms might draw
on mimicry, irony, self-reflexivity, paradox, and allegory to subvert (undermine) the dominant culture
(Bhabha 1994; Hutcheon 1995; Griffiths 1995).
If the art forms draw on the use of dots, cross-hatching, and other effects that are indicators of
"traditional" art forms, then it is likely that artists value authenticity. This is measured by artists drawing
upon well associated symbols or images of"traditional" Aboriginality when local symbols or images don't
seem to exist. These traditional motifs might be used to affirm the artist's Aboriginality and his/her
authenticity (Ashcroft et al. 1998; Griffiths 1995).
If the iconology of the art forms suggests racial/ethnic implications, then it is likely that artists
value a pan-Aboriginal categorization. For instance, the art forms might draw on themes from the
Aboriginal past and on shared experiences of oppression such as events in the colonial history of Australia
(Captain Cook, the early massacres, the Gurindji stockmen's strike, the lost generations of children taken
from their parents, the fight for citizenship, the struggle for land rights, the tent embassy, and issues of
sovereignty) (Morphy 1999:381). The art forms might also reflect issues of concern to Aboriginal people,
such as the environment, health, land rights, respect for traditional Aboriginal culture, alienation,
discrimination in white Australian society, and pride in their Aboriginal identity.
Ifthe art forms depict artists' "Aboriginal" locations and cultural histories, then it is likely
that artists value a local or regional group identity. For instance, in a coastal location, the imagery of the art
form might show sea animals and birdlife that are distinctive representations of this location. The imagery
might also show some unique identifier of the cultural history such as an event or an important site. Many
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 177
artists express regret that so much of their heritage was lost and are determined to reconnect themselves to
their history (Morphy 1999:382).
I will know if artists value cultural hybridity if their responses emphasize a mixing of values
and ideas, such as influences from Western culture and "traditional" Aboriginal culture. For instance, artists
might respond that they combine bright colours (moving away from "traditional" ochre colours) with the
use of dots (a "traditional" element) in their art forms. They might also respond they want to empower
Aboriginal people through their art forms, so they draw on mimicry, irony, self-reflexivity, paradox, or
allegory in order to subvert the dominant culture.
I will know if artists value authenticity if their responses emphasize how "traditional" motifs
or "signifiers of authenticity" in their art forms authenticate their work as "Aboriginal," or perhaps make
them feel more "Aboriginal."
I will know if artists value a pan-Aboriginal categorization if they choose to identify with
"Aboriginality" rather than local or regional group affiliation, such as a "Koori." Artists might respond that
they are actively involved in political organizations, or they might articulate current concerns for
Aboriginal people within a growing multi-cultural Australia.
I will know if artists value a local or regional group identity if they choose to identify with
their specific local or regional identity such as the "Koori" identity label, or even a further marker such as
"Wiradjuri" denoting a tribe or language name. Artists' responses might provide insight into their particular
family and cultural history, and their political interests at the local level.
Participants:
Mid-North Coast, NSW
Coop. Artists Male (8)Female (7) Independent Artists Male (4)Female (1)
Sydney,NSW
Independent Artists Male (4)Female (4) Eora Art Institute Artists Male (6)Female (1) Long Bay CC Inmate/Artists Male (1)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 178
FORMAT FOR RELATIONSHIP WITH THE COOPERATIVE
Artists/ Previous work; Influences for Respect and TOB Individual Questions Years with becoming artist support as an operations artist? TOB's TOB artist andmgment influence?
FORMAT FOR CULTURAL HYBRIDITY AND AUTHENTICITY
Artists/ Describe Art Meanings of In what ways Do you use a What part of Questions Form work messages of your do you draw ''traditional" an art form with? Art? What does on Western motif'? makes it Themes beinganAbl ideas, motifs, Describe.Does "authentic" Used? What urban Artist mean technique? it make your art? has changed to you? work/you your art? moreAbl?
FORMAT FOR PAN-ABORIGINALITY AND LOCAL/REGIONAL GROUP IDENTITY
Artists/ What do you Do you keep up How do What is the What are Questions knowofyour with political you see Abl signifier for some of the heritage? concerns for peoples in your attitudes of How do you Ablpeople? relation to community's people in your identity Belong to ethnic Abl culture? location yourself'? political groups in (''tradition" or towards Abls? associations? Australia? myth, history, story)
FORMAT FOR BINARY REPRESENTATIONS/TOURIST ART AND INDIGENOUS IMAGE
Artists/ How would you In what ways How do you Do you have Do buyers Quest- describe Abl might terms identity "fine a preference want to ions ''traditional" art ''traditional" and art" and for working know about and "urban" art? "urban" influence ''tourist art?" with fine art the Which is more stereotypical Is there or tourist art? artist/culture adaptive? images of Abl different Why? for fine art? culture? imagery? for tourist art?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 179
Circulation Sites -Data Analysis for Coop/Galleries, and
Art Teaching in Art Institute and Correctional Centre
This site is where all the players in the Aboriginal urban art world can interact. The
circulation site is dynamic, not static, and constantly changing in response to what's going on at the
production level and the consumption level, where recursive relationships are also taking place. Here, I
want to understand the valuing systems (cultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, local/regional
group identity) that participating organizations might draw on in terms of promoting, marketing, or
teaching Aboriginal urban art. While not necessarily adhering to the dichotomous relationship I suggest
here, I also want to know how the circulator might understand the two Aboriginal art forms - "traditional"
and "urban"- and their respective "cultural differences." As well, I want to investigate the ways in which
the authentic/non-authentic dichotomy is formulated in the art world, and the degree to which art world
management (primarily non-Aboriginal people, but also Aboriginal people) is open to some flexible
understandings of ''traditional."
Questions for management (art coordination) ofthe artists' cooperative/gallery
and art galleries in terms ofcultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, locaVregional group
identity:
How would you descnbe the art form the cooperative works with/gallery markets?
What are the themes for artwork of this cooperative?
In what ways do you think the art of this cooperative/gallery has changed over the years?
What do you look for when choosing art (gallery)?
How would you describe the "traditional" elements and the Western elements that artists might
draw on for their artwork?
What part(s) of an art form makes it "authentic" Aboriginal art?
What are the signifiers of"Aboriginality" for urban art forms (gallery)? (signifier=an image; a
motif; a symbol such as dots, circles; an object such as a boomerang; a spear, flora/fauna,
Aboriginal figure)
Questions for management (art coordination) ofthe artists' cooperative/gallery and art galleries in terms ofbinary representations:
How would you define Aboriginal "traditional" art and "urban" art?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 180
In what ways might the terms ''traditional" and "urban" influence stereotypical images of
Aboriginal people and their culture?
How do you make decisions about what is Aboriginal "urban" art, representative of this location?
Questions for management (art coordination) ofthe artists' cooperative/gallery and art galleries in terms oftourist art, fine art, and the indigenous image:
How would you describe fine art and tourist art?
Are there distinct forms of imagery for each art form?
Do buyers of Aboriginal urban fine art/tourist art want to know about the artist and
his/her culture?
Questions for management (art coordination) ofthe artists' cooperative/gallery and art galleries in terms ofchanges taking place in the Aboriginal art world?
How is pricing of artwork determined? What is the criteria?
How might the Authenticity Label being developed by NTAAA benefit/harm your
cooperative/gallery?
How do you make decisions about payments to artists in advance of selling their
artwork (cooperative/gallery)?
What are your criteria for new artists joining the cooperative/gallery?
Is there a trend for Aboriginal "urban" artists being collected and exhibited as mainstream
contemporary Australian artists without the "Aboriginal-artist" label? What might have influenced
this move? How might this impact on the survivability of "urban" art as a recognized
representation of Aboriginal culture (gallery)?
Questions for management (art teaching) ofthe Aboriginal art institute and the art program at the correctional centre in terms ofbackground information:
What is your background and experience in art teaching?
What influenced you to teach at Eora Arts Centre (correctional centre)?
How long have you been teaching here?
How would you descnbe the teaching methods you draw on?
What have been the most satisfying and the most frustrating aspects of this work?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 181
Questions for management (art teaching) ofthe Aboriginal art institute and the art program at the correctional centre in terms ofcultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality,/ocal/regional group identity:
How would you describe the art fonn/practices you teach?
How has this changed over the years?
What part of an art form makes it "authentic" Aboriginal art?
How would you describe the traditional elements and the Western elements that artists might draw
on for their artwork?
What are the signifiers of Aboriginality for urban art forms?
Discussion of postcolonial theory and the ideas ofhybridity and authenticity- How relevant might
this theory be in terms of the student artists at Eora and the art they produce (and the inmate artists
and the art they produce)?
Questions for management (art teaching) ofthe Aboriginal art institute and the art program at the correctional centre in terms ofbinary representations:
In what ways might the terms ''traditional" and "urban" influence stereotypical images of
Aboriginal people and culture?
How would you describe Aboriginal "traditional" art and ''urban" art?
How do you make decisions about what is Aboriginal urban art?
How will I categorize the management/art teachingfaculty ofparticipating organizations?
I will categorize the management/art teaching faculty of participating organizations, in terms of
promoting and marketing Aboriginal urban art, according to: a) the functional identity of the organization,
whether it is an (i) artists' cooperative/gallery, (ii) Aboriginal art institute, (iii) art program in a correctional
centre, or (iv) art gallery. The cooperative/gallery and art galleries will be further categorized as to whether
they market "urban" fine art and tourist art; "traditional" and "urban" fine art and tourist art; and
"traditional" and "urban" fine art only; b) the organization's geographic location, whether it is in (i) the
small township ofForster, or ii) metropolitan Sydney; and c) the organization's valuing system, whether it
i) values cultural hybridity, ii) values authenticity, iii) values pan-Aboriginality, or iv) values a local or
regional group identity.
Different circulation patterns will likely effect different representations. For instance:
(a) The pattern of circulation from production by artists within the artists' cooperative to the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 182
cooperative's gallery/shop, located in the small township of Forster, is likely to effect a
representation of Aboriginal urban people from this particular location, their art forms, and their
culture, through an emphasis on valuing cultural hybridity or valuing a local or regional group
identity. These valuing systems are likely to be consistent with the valuing systems of Aboriginal
urban artists from this particular location;
(b) The pattern of circulation from production by artists within the artists' cooperative to Sydney
based retail tourist shops and/or design licensing ventures is likely to effect a representation of
Aboriginal urban people from this particular location, their art forms, and their culture, through an
emphasis on valuing authenticity. This valuing system is likely to be inconsistent with the valuing
system of Aboriginal urban artists from this particular location, who are likely to value cultural
hybridity or a local or regional group identity as a form of identity;
(c) The pattern of circulation from production by independent artists in metropolitan Sydney to
Sydney-based retail tourist shops and commercial art galleries is likely to effect a representation of
the diversity of artists, their art forms, and their particular cultures, through an emphasis on
valuing authenticity. In general, Sydney-based retail tourist shops and commercial art galleries
might tend to assimilate the differences and place more emphasis on Aboriginality and authentic
indigenous artworks. This valuing system is likely to be inconsistent with the valuing system of
independent artists from this particular location, who are likely to value cultural hybridity or a
pan-Aboriginal categorization or a local or regional group identity as a form of identity;
(d) The pattern of circulation from production by arts students at the Eora Arts Institute in
metropolitan Sydney for exhibition and sale to the Eora Arts Institute itself is likely to effect a
representation of the diverse mix of students (from their 20s to their 60s, with varying socio
economic backgrounds and cultural histories), their art forms, and their cultures, through an
emphasis on valuing cultural hybridity or a pan-Aboriginal categorization or a local or regional
group identity as a form of identity. This valuing system is likely to be consistent with the valuing
system of Aboriginal artists in this particular context; and
(e) The pattern of circulation from production by Aboriginal inmate artists at a Sydney-based
correctional centre to the Boom Gate Art Gallery at the correctional centre itself, is likely to effect
a representation of the Aboriginal inmate artists, their art forms, and their cultures, through an
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 183
emphasis on valuing cultural hybridity. Preliminary research shows that the art program at the
correctional centre is not based on ''traditional Aboriginal" art teaching because the inmates are
nationally and culturally mixed. However, Aboriginal inmates in the art program are encouraged
to explore, through their art, their particular culture and its "traditions" as a frrst step in the
rehabilitation process. This often results in some early art forms embracing a somewhat
''traditional" image. However, I would expect a stronger valuing of cultural hybridity on the part
of the art faculty largely because inmates in the art program are nationally and culturally mixed
and the art program is not specifically based on ''traditional Aboriginal" art teaching. This valuing
system is likely to be consistent with the valuing system for the Aboriginal inmate artists in this
particular context.
How will I know ifthe management/art teaching faculty ofthe cooperative, art school, art program in the correctional centre, and art galleries value cultural hybridity, authenticity, pan Aboriginality, or local/regional group identity?
I will know if the management/art teaching faculty ofthe artists' cooperative, Aboriginal art
institute, art program in a correctional centre, and art galleries value cultural hybridity if the organization is
receptive to the mixing of values and ideas, such as influences from Western culture and ''traditional"
Aboriginal culture, for the artists and the art forms within or represented by the organization. The
organization might also be receptive to art forms that empower Aboriginal people through the use of
mimicry, irony, self-reflexivity, paradox, and allegory to subvert the dominant culture.
I will know if they value authenticity if the use of ''tradition," or "signifiers of authenticity,"
in art forms is seen as important for authenticating Aboriginal urban identity. In art forms the use of dots,
cross-hatching, and other effects that are indicators of ''traditional" art forms might be encouraged,
particularly when local symbols or images don't seem to exist.
I will know if they value pan-Aboriginality if the promotion/marketing of artists and their
artwork is based on a categorization of"Aboriginality;" or they promote/market artwork in conjunction
with political discourse relevant to Aboriginal people in Australia. The imagery of the art forms might draw
on themes from the Aboriginal past and on shared experiences of oppression. The art forms might also
reflect issues of concern to Aboriginal people, such as the environment, health, land rights, respect for
traditional Aboriginal culture, alienation, discrimination in white Australian society, and pride in their
Aboriginal identity.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 184
I will know if they value a local or regional group identity if the promotion/marketing of the
artists and their artwork is based on a local or regional group identity such as "Koori." The art forms might
depict distinctive regional elements, such as sea animals, birdlife, or an event or important site
representative of a particular location and its cultural history. The art forms might also focus on political
issues, such as land rights, at the local/regional level.
Participants:
Mid-North Coast, NSW Cooperative/Gallery marketing ''urban" fine art and tourist art: Tobwabba Artists Cooperative/Gallery - Art Coordinator/Cooperative Management
Sydney,NSW Galleries marketing "traditional" and "urban" fme art and tourist art: Cooee, Gavala, Rainbow Serpent
Gallery marketing "traditional" and "urban" fine art: Hogarth
Teaching of"Aboriginal Art:" Bora Aboriginal Art Institute - Art Teacher Art Program in Long Bay CC - Art Teacher
FORMAT FOR CULTURAL HYBRIDITY, AUTHENTICITY, PAN-ABORIGINALITY, AND LOCAL/REGIONAL GROUP IDENTITY
Mgmtof Describe art What do What are the What are the What part of an coop/ form work you look "traditional" signifiers of art form makes it gallery/ with/market/ for when and Western "Ablty" for "authentic" Abl art institute/ teach? Themes choosing elements urban art forms art? correctional used? What art artists draw (gallery)? centre/ has changed in (gallery)? on? Questions the art?
FORMAT FOR BINARY REPRESENTATIONS/TOURIST ART AND INDIGENOUS IMAGE
Mgmtof How would In what ways How do you How Do buyers coop/gallery/ you describe might terms make decisions would you of fine art art institute/ Abl "traditional" and about what is describe and tourist correctional "traditional" "urban" Abl "urban" art? "fine art" art want to centre/ art and influence and know Questions "urban" art? stereotypical ''tourist about the images of Abl art?" Is artist and culture? there his/her different culture? imagery?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 185
FORMAT FOR COPING WITH A CHANGING ART WORLD
Mgmtof How is How might How do you What are your What about the coop/ pricing of the make decisions criteria for trend for Abl gallery artwork Authenticity about advance new artists "urban" artists Questions determined Label payments to joining coop/ exhibiting as ? (NIAAA) artists (coop/ gallery? mainstream artists benefit/harm gallery)? without "Abl your coop/ artist" label? gallery?
FORMAT FOR BACKGROUND DATA ON "ABORIGINAL ART' TEACHERS
Art teachers Background Influences to How long How would Satisfying and of art institute and teach (art have you been you describe frustrating and experience in institute and teaching the teaching aspects of this correctional art teaching? correctional here? methods you work? centre/ centre)? draw on? Questions
Consumption Sites -Data Analysis for Buyers
How does the buyer understand the two art forms for Aboriginal Australia - the "traditional"
and the "urban" and their respective "cultural differences" within the larger Aboriginal art world? And
what criteria are used by the buyer for determining whether the Aboriginal urban art form be/she purchases
is, in fact, "authentic" Aboriginal art? What is the knowledge-base and interest-level of the buyer of
Aboriginal urban art in terms of the Aboriginal urban artist and his/her community/culture?
Questions for Buyers in terms ofbackground information:
What is your age range?
What is your nationality?
Where do you live?
Questions for Buyers in terms ofcultural hybridity and authenticity:
How would you describe the artwork you have bought?
What do you look for when buying Aboriginal fine art (paintings and pottery)?
What makes this artwork you have bought "authentic" Aboriginal art?
Question for Buyers in terms ofbinary representations:
How would you describe Aboriginal "traditional" art and Aboriginal ''urban" art?
Question for Buyers in terms oftourist art and indigenous image:
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 186
Are you familiar with (i) the artist (ii) his/her community (iii) his/her culture (iv) all of the above?
How will I categorize buyers?
I will categorize buyers of Aboriginal urban art according to: a) the location where the
artwork is purchased, whether from i) an Aboriginal artists' cooperative/tourist shop in the small township
of Forster, or ii) a Sydney-based art gallery; b) the buyer's national identity, whether he/she is ani)
Australian non-Aboriginal, ii) overseas visitor, or iii) Australian Aboriginal; and c) the buyer's valuing
system, in terms of whether the buyer i) values cultural hybridity, ii) values authenticity, iii) values pan-
Aboriginality, or iv) values a local or regional group identity.
Different forms of consumption are likely to effect different representations. For instance:
(a) Artwork purchased from an artists' cooperative or its gallery/shop in the small township of
Forster by an Aboriginal buyer might effect a representation of Aboriginal urban artists, their art forms,
and their culture through an emphasis on valuing cultural hybridity or a local or regional group identity, in
contrast to a non-Aboriginal buyer's emphasis on valuing authenticity; and
(b) Artwork purchased from a Sydney-based art gallery by an Aboriginal buyer might effect a
representation of Aboriginal urban artists, their art forms, and their culture through an emphasis on valuing
cultural hybridity or a local or regional group identity, in contrast to a non-Aboriginal buyer's emphasis on
valuing authenticity.
The expectation in both forms of consumption outlined above is that the Aboriginal buyer
might be more sensitive to and aware of cultural and artistic differences within the Aboriginal art world and
therefore value cultural hybridity or a local or regional group identity. On the other hand, the non-
Aboriginal buyer might be somewhat ambivalent to these cultural and artistic differences, and in his/her
search for the consumption of "excitement" might therefore value authenticity, in terms of an "authentic
indigenous" product.
How will I know ifbuyers value cultural hybridity, authenticity, pan-Aboriginality, or a local/regional group identity?
I will know ifbuyers value cultural hybridity if they are receptive to the mixing of values and
ideas, such as influences from Western culture and "traditional" Aboriginal culture, for the art forms they
purchase. They might be receptive to art forms that empower Aboriginal people through the use of
mimicry, irony, self-reflexivity, paradox, and allegory to subvert the dominant culture.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 187
I will know if buyers value authenticity if the use of''tradition," or "signifiers of authenticity," in the art
forms is seen as important for authenticating Aboriginal urban identity. For instance, the buyers might
prefer art forms that draw on the use of dots, cross-hatching, and other effects that are indicators of
''traditional" art forms.
I will know if buyers value pan-Aboriginality if they are knowledgeable about political
discourse relevant to Aboriginal people in Australia. The art forms they purchase might draw on themes
from the Aboriginal past and on shared experiences of oppression. The art forms might also reflect issues
of concern to Aboriginal people, such as the environment, health, land rights, respect for traditional
Aboriginal culture, alienation, discrimination in white Australian society, and pride in their Aboriginal
identity.
I will know ifbuyers value a local or regional group identity if they are interested in "Koori"
art forms. The art forms they purchase might reflect distinctive characteristics of a local or regional
categorization, such as sea animals, birdlife, or an event or important site representative of a specific
location and cultural history.
Participants
Mid-North Coast, NSW Aboriginal (2) Non-Aboriginal (3) O'seas Visitor (4)
Sydney,NSW Non-Aboriginal (4) O'seas Visitor (1)
FORMATFORBUYERSSURVEY
Buyers/ National- How would What do What makes Describe Are you Quest- ity, Age, you describe you look for this artwork Abl familiar with ions Where artwork you when you have ''tradition- the artist, live? have buyingAbl bought al" art and commun- bought? fine art? "authentic" "urban" ity, and Abl art? art? culture?
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 188
"Quattro Pagine" - Life Story Narratives
Each "quattro pagine" for the two female Aboriginal urban artists will touch on: the artist's
early life growing up in Australia; the impetus behind the artist's move into the Aboriginal art world; the
artist's perceptions of living and working as an Aboriginal artist in Australia today; how certain art forms
might influence the artist's self-identification; and the artist's views on key issues confronting Aboriginal
urban artists. I anticipate that the analyses of these life story narratives will key into, and amplify, some of
the issues arising from other parts of my research.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. APPENDIX IV
TABLE I
SUMMARY OF ARTISTS' EMPHASES ON VALUING FORMS
Legend:
CH - Cultural Hybridity A - Authenticity PA- Pan-Aboriginality LR - Local/Regional
Mid-North Mid-North Sydney Sydney Sydney TOTAL Coast Coast Independent EoraArt Inmate Cooperative Independent Artists Students Artist at Artists Artists LBCC
PNLR/CH 2 2 7 - - 11
PNLRICWA 3 2 - - 1 6
LR/CH 1 - - 5 - 6
LR/CWA 1 1 - 2 - 4
PNCWA 4 - - - - 4
PNCH 3 - - - - 3
PNLR/A - - 1 - - 1
PNA 1 - -- - 1
TOTAL 15 5 8 7 1 36
189
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 190
TABLE2
SUMMARY OF SOCIO-ECONOMIC DATA FOR MNCNSW AND SYDNEY
Mid-North Coast Cooperative Mid-North Coast Independent Artists Questions Artists Where born, lived, now live Mission 9 Live outside mission 5 Outside Mission 6 Of the 5: Ofthe6: Discover Ablty late in life I Discover Ablty late in life 3 Grew up on mission 2 Of whom 2 in mission, 1 outside Age 20's 2 20's I 30's 4 30's 2 40's 7 40's 2 50/60's 2 Marital status/children Married/Defacto 7 Married 2 Single 8 Single 3 Average children per artist 3 Average children per artist 2.2
Sources of income Sale of art 15 Sale of art 5 Ofthe 15: Ofthe 5: CDEP 12 CDEP I Job with wage 3 Job with wage 4
Questions Sydney Independent Sydney Bora Art Sydney Inmate Artist Artists Students atLBCC
Where born, lived, now Diverse from Western Diverse. All live off South Coast, and live Desert to Queensland to Mission. Have lived in W ollongong all his life West NSW, Nth Coast NSW at Cowra, Young, NSW, urban Sydney. Gunnedah, La Perouse (all move back/forth) in NSW, Leeton, Taree, All live off mission. Matraville. All now live Grew up on mission 5 inner city Sydney
Age 30's 5 20's 3 20's I 40's 3 30's 1 40's 2 50's I Marital status/children Married 4 Married 0 No children- in prison Single 4 Divorced I for6years Average children per Single 6 artist 2.5 Average children per artist 0.4
Sources of income Art sales/royalties 8 Abstudy Program 7 Art sales at Boom Gate Ofthe 8: Of the 7: Gallery at LBCC Job with wage 3 Art sales 3 Odd jobs, labor, computer work 2
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 191
TABLE3
SUMMARY OF CIRCULATORS' EMPHASES ON VALUING FORMS
Marketing "Urban" Fine Art and Tourist Art
Coop/Gallery Cultural Authenticity Pan-Aboriginality Local/Regional Hybridity Group Identity
Tobwabba Art Show mixing of Show animal Coop/Gallery values and ideas themes from local (1 00% owned by area FLALC) Art Director (white)
Marketing "Traditional" and "Urban" Fine Art and Tourist Art
Coop/Gallery Cultural Authenticity Pan-Aboriginality Local/Regional Hybridity Group Identity Cooee Aboriginal Show mixing of Show themes Art Gallery values and ideas from local areas (white ownership and management) GavalaAbl Show mixing of Show diverse Cultural Art values and ideas artists from Centre (Abl throughout ownership and Australia management) Rainbow Serpent Show diverse Says dots,circles Show themes Art Gallery styles, indicating are universal from local areas (white ownership a mixing of symbols of and management) values and ideas Aboriginality, and are needed for Aboriginality and for the international mkts
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 192
TABLE 3 (continued)
SUMMARY OF CIRCULATORS' EMPHASES ON VALUING FORMS
Marketing "Traditional" and "Urban" Fine Art
Gallery Cultural Hybridity Authenticity Pan-Aboriginality Local/Regional Group Identity
Hogarth Galleries Show mixing of Says it doesn't Show artists who Show some artists, (white ownership values and ideas. have to look tend to very such as Robert and management) Aboriginal. Is political Campbell, who excited when draw on local ''traditional" political themes elements are not there.
"Aboriginal Art" Teaching
"Aboriginal" Cultural Hybridity Authenticity Pan-Aboriginality Local/Regional ArtTeachers Group Identity
Eora Aboriginal Says Koori people Students are Exploration of Art Institute. are intelligent-if encouraged to local histories is (white teacher) they see a good chronicle their encouraged idea they adopt it histories (Stolen Open to the Generation, mixing of values culture disrupted, and ideas. moved from traditional lands and put on mission) Art program in Open to the Says traditional Students are Exploration of Long Bay mixing of values symbols are encouraged to local histories is Correctional and ideas synonymous with explore their encouraged Centre (white prison art ,but histories in terms teacher) some individuals oflarger issues in have moved the Aboriginal beyond world emphasizing these symbols
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 193
TABLE4
SUMMARY SURVEY OF BUYERS
Location of Values Values Values Values Local/ Familiar with Authent- purchase and Cultural Authent Pan- Regional Artist, icity buyer profile Hybridity - icity Aborigin- Group Identity Culture, Basis of Art Ality Commun!!Y_? Work? TOBWABBA ART Aboriginal X X Yes Aboriginal 50's Artist Aboriginal X X Yes Aboriginal 40's Artist Non- X X Yes Colours, Aboriginal theme 50's Non- X X Yes Aboriginal Aboriginal Artist 40's Non- X First visit to Aboriginal Aboriginal Tobwabba Painter 30's Overseas X X Yes Aboriginal 60's person in community Overseas X No Aboriginal 60's Painter Overseas X To small Tribal, 50's Extent learned from older generation Overseas X X Community, Aboriginal 30's a little Community member p_ainted it SYDNEY Non- X X To a degree Knowledge Aboriginal of Artist, 40's Gallery info. Non- X No Reputable Aboriginal gallery Non- X X Yes Reputable Aboriginal dealer 60's Non- X X Yes Personal Aboriginal experience of 40's Artist Overseas 40's X No No answer
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. BIBLIOGRAPHY
Anderson, Benedict Imagined Communities. New York: Verso Press, 1983.
Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, Helen Tiffm, eds. The Post-Colonial Studies Reader. London, New York: Routledge, 1995. Homi K. Bhabha "Cultural Diversity/Cultural Differences" Pp.206-12 Diana Brydon "The White Inuit Speaks" Pp. 13642 Gareth Griffiths ''The Myth of Authenticity'' Pp.23748 Linda Hutcheon "Circling the Downspout ofEmpire" Pp.l30-35
Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, Helen Tiffin, Key Concepts in Post-Colonial Studies. London, New York: Routledge, 1998.
Attwood, Bain, ed. In the Age ofMabo. St. Leonards, Australia: Allen and Unwin, 1996.
Barth, Fredrik, ed. "Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organization of Culture Difference." Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1969. Quoted in Jocelyn Linnekin, and Lin Poyer, eds. Cultural Identity and Ethnicity In the Pacific. p. 2. Honolulu: University ofHawaii Press, 1990.
Becker, Howard Art Worlds. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982.
Berndt, Ronald and Catherine Berndt The World of the First Australians. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1992.
Bhabha, Homi K., ed. "Nation and Narration." London: Routledge, 1990. Quoted in Nikos Papastergiadis, Restless Hybrids. p. 17. Third Text No. 32 Autumn, 1995.
Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. London, New York: Routledge, 1994.
"The Location of Culture." London, New York: Routledge, 1994. Quoted in Judy Purdom, Mapping Difference. Pp. 26-27. Third Text No. 32 Autumn, 1995.
Bogais, Jonathan "It's Political" Australian Art Collector No. 1:54-56, 1997.
Bray, Gregory W. "Census ofPopulation and Housing: Sydney." In A Social Atlas 1996 #2030.1 Australian Bur!iiau of Statistics (ABS) Census 1996. Commonwealth of Australia, 1998.
194
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 195
Caruana, Wally Aboriginal Art. London, New York: Thames and Hudson, 1993.Chambers, Robert Rural Development: Putting the Last First. Essex, England: Longman Scientific & Technical, 1983.
Chanfrault-Duchet, Marie-Francoise "Narrative Structures, Social Models, and Symbolic Representation in the Life Story" In Women's Words. The Feminist Practice of Oral History. Sherna Berger Gluck and Daphne Patai, eds. Pp.77-92 New York: Routledge, 1991.
Clifford, James "Histories of the Tribal and Modem." In The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth-Century Ethnography, Literature, and Art. Pp. 189-214 Cambridge, Mass: Harvard,University Press, 1988.
Conklin, Beth A. "Body Paint, Feathers, and VCRs: Aesthetics and Authenticity in Amazonian Activism." American Ethnologist 24(4):711.737, 1997.
Cowlishaw, Gillian "The materials for identity construction." In Past and Present. The Construction of Aboriginality. Jeremy R Beckett, ed. Pp.87-108, Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1994.
Cowlishaw, Gillian and Barry Morris, eds. Race Matters. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1997.
Croft, Brenda L. "A very brief bit of an overview of the Aboriginal Arts/cultural industry by a sort of renegade, or The cultural correctness of certain issues" Art Monthly Australia (Supplement) Pp.20-23, 1992-93.
di Leonardo, Micaela "White Ethnicities, Identity Politics, and Baby Bear's Chair" Social Text41 (Winter): Pp. 165-191, 1994.
Elkin, A.P. The Australian Aborigines. New York: Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1954.
Escobar, Arturo Encountering Development: The Making and Unmaking of the Third World. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995.
Flood, Josephine Archaeology ofthe Dreaming. Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1995.
Fourmile, Henrietta "Aboriginal arts in relation to multiculturalism" In Culture. Difference and the Arts. Sneja Gunew and Fazal Rizvi, eds. Pp. 69-85 St. Leonards, NSW:Allen and Unwin, 1994.
Gertsakis, Elizabeth "An inconstant politics: thinking about the traditional and the contemporary" In Culture, Difference and the Arts. Sneja Gunew and Fazal Rizvi, eds. Pp. 35-53 St. Leonards, NSW: Allen and Unwin, 1994.
Grabum, N.H.H., ed. "Introduction. Arts of the Fourth World." In Ethnic and Tourist Arts: Cultural Expressions from the Fourth World. Pp. 1-32 Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 196
Gray, Nicola "Elisions: A Report on the 11th Biennial Conference of the Native American Art Studies Association, Berkeley, California." Third Text. Vol42 Pp.29-38, 1998.
Hale, Charles R. "Cultural Politics ofldentity in Latin America " Annual Review ofAnthropology Vol. 26 Pp. 567-590, 1997.
Hanson, Allan and Louise Hanson, eds. "Introduction: Art, Identity and Self-Consciousness in Oceania." In Art and Identity in Oceania. Pp. 1-4 Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1990.
Horton, David, ed. The Encyclopaedia of Aboriginal Australia. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1994.
Isaacs, Jennifer Australia's Living Heritage. Arts of the Dreaming. Sydney: Landsdowne Publishing, 1997.
Jackson, Jean E. "Culture, Genuine and Spurious: The Politics oflndianness in the Vaupes, Colombia." American Ethnologist Vol. 22 No. 1 Pp. 1-27, 1995.
James, Roberta "Rousseau's Knot: the entanglement of liberal democracy and racism" In Race Matters. Gillian Cowlishaw and Barry Morris, eds. Pp.53-75 Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1997.
Jules-Rosette, Bennetta The Messages of Tourist Art: An African Semiotic System in Comparative Perspective. New York:Plenum Press, 1984.
Kane, Eileen Seeing for Yourself. Research Handbook for Girls' Education in Africa. Washington, D.C.: The World Bank, 1995.
Kleinert, Sylvia "Another Aboriginal Art" Art Monthly Australia (Supplement) Pp.44-45, 1992-93.
Langton, Marcia "The Two Women looked back over their shoulders and lamented leaving their country: Detached comment (recent urban art) and symbolic narrative (traditional art) Art Monthly Australia (Supplement) Pp. 7-9, 1992-93
"Rum, seduction and death: 'Aboriginality' and alcohol." In Race Matters. Gillian Cowlishaw and Barry Morris, eds. Pp.77-96 Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1997.
Lattas, Andrew "Aborigines and contemporary Australian nationalism: primordiality and the cultural politics of otherness." In Race Matters. Indigenous Australians and 'Our' Society. Gillian Cowlishaw and Barry Morris, eds. Pp. 223-258 Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1997.
Lingard, Bob and Fazal Rizvi "(Re)membering, (Dis)membering: 'Aboriginality' and the art of Gordon Bennett" Third Text. No. 26 Spring Pp. 75-90, 1994.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 197
Linnekin, Jocelyn and Lin Poyer, eds. Cultural Identity and Ethnicity in the Pacific. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1990. Jocelyn Linnekin and Lin Poyer "Introduction" Pp. 1-16. Jocelyn Linnekin "The Politics of Culture in the Pacific" Pp. 149-174. Myrna Ewart Tonkinson "Is It in the Blood? Australian Aboriginal Identity" Pp.191-218
Little, Kenneth "Cannibal Culture: Art, Appropriation, and the Commodification of Difference." Deborah Root - Book Reviews American Anthropologist Vol. 98, No. 4 December p. 920, 1996.
Marcus, George E. and Michael M. J. Fischer Anthropology as Cultural Critigye. London, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1986.
Marcus, George E. and Fred R. Myers, eds. The Traffic in Culture: Refiguring Art and Anthropology. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995.
Maughan, Janet "From the 21st Century and through the telescope" Reconciliation? Indigenous art for the 21st century Art/ink- Australian Contemporary Art Quarterly Vol. 20 #1 Pp. 4-5, 2000.
McClintock, Anne "The Angel of Progress: Pitfalls of the term "Post-Colonialism" Social Text 31/32 Pp. 84-98, 1992.
McLean, Ian White Aborigines: Identity Politics in Australian Art. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998.
McLennan, W. 1994 National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Survey- New South Wales. Australian Bureau of Statistics Catalogue No. 4190.1 Canberra: Australian Government Publishing Service, 1996.
Megaw, J.V.S. "Art as Identity: Aspects of Contemporary Aboriginal Art." In Art and Identity in Oceania. Allan Hanson and Louise Hanson, eds. Pp. 282-293 Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1990.
Morphy, Howard Aboriginal Art. London: Phaidon Press Limited, 1999.
Morris, Barry "The politics of identity: from Aborigines to the first Australian" In Past and Present. The Construction of Aboriginality. Jeremy R. Beckett, ed. Pp. 63-86 Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 1994.
Mudrooroo Aboriginal Mythology. London: Thorsons/Harper Collins Publishers, 1994.
Us Mob. History, Culture, Struggle: An Introduction to Indigenous Australia. Sydney: Angus & Robertson/Harper Collins Publishers, 1996.
Myers, Fred R. "Representing Culture: The Production ofDiscourse(s) for Aboriginal Acrylic Paintings" In The Traffic in Culture: Refiguring Art and Anthropology. George E.. Marcus and Fred R. .Myers, eds. Pp.55-95 Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 198
Neale, Margo Yiribana. Sydney: The Art Gallery of New South Wales, 1998.
Nelson, Robert S. "Appropriation" In Critical Terms for Art History. RobertS. Nelson and Richard Shiff, eds. Pp. 116-128 Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1996.
Nicholls, Christine "Indigenous Australian art and the stolen generation" Reconciliation? Indigenous art for the 21st century. Art/ink- Australian Contemporary Art Quarterly Vol. 20 #1 Pp. 36-38,2000.
Papastergiadis, Nikos "Restless Hybrids" Third Text. Third World Perspectives on Contemporary Art and Culture No.32 Autumn Pp. 9-18, 1995.
Parry, Benita "Signs of Our Times: A Discussion ofHomi Bhabha's 'The Location of Culture'" Third Text. No. 28/29 Autumn/Winter Pp. 5-24, 1994.
Perera, Suvendrini and Joseph Pugliese "Wogface, Anglo-Drag, Contested Aboriginalities: Making and Unmaking Identities in Australia." Social Identities Vol. 4 No. 1 Pp.39-72, 1998.
Perkins, Hetti "Seeing and Seaming: Contemporary Aboriginal Art" Art Monthly Australia Pp. 22-25, 1993.
Perkins, Hetti and Hannah Fink "Writing for Land" Art and Australia Vol. 35 No. 1:60-63, 1997.
Povinelli, Elizabeth A. "Organizing Women: Rhetoric, Economy, and Politics in Process Among Australian Aborigines." In Gender at the Crossroads of Knowledge: Feminist Anthropology in the Postmodem Era. Micaela di Leonardo, ed. Pp. 235-254. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991.
Labor's Lot. The Power. History, and Culture of Aboriginal Action. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1993.
Roberts, Ainslie and Melva Jean Roberts Dreamtime Heritage Sydney: Rigby Publishers Limited, 1975.
Root, Deborah Cannibal Culture: Art. Appropriation. and the Commodification of Difference. Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1996.
San Juan Jr., E. Beyond Postcolonial Theory. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1999.
Shohat, Ella "Notes on the Post-Colonial" Social Text 31/32, 1992.
Simons, Susan "Strong ai bilong em: comparison of Papua New Guinea urban artists and Australian Aboriginal urban artists." In Artistic Heritage in a Changing Pacific. Philip C. Dark and Roger G. Rose, eds. Pp. 173-184 Bathurst, NSW: Crawford House, 1993.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 199
Smith, Claire and Graeme K. Ward, eds. Indigenous Cultures in an Interconnected World. Vancouver, Toronto: UBC Press, 2000 Julie Gough "History, Representation, Globalisation and Indigenous Cultures: A Tasmanian Perspective" Pp. 89-108 Howard Morphy "Elite Art for Cultural Elites: Adding Value to Indigenous Arts" Pp. 129-44
Smith, Yeshe A Profile ofTobwabba Art. Forster: Local Aboriginal Land Council, 1997.
Stanner, W. E. H. "White Man Got No Dreaming: Essays 1938-1973." Canberra: Australian National University Press, 1979. Quoted in Myrna Ewart Tonkinson, "Is It in the Blood? Australian Aboriginal Identity." In Cultural Identity and Ethnicity In the Pacific. Jocelyn Linnekin, and Lin Poyer, eds. Pp.191-218. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1990
Steiner, Christopher B. African Art in Transit Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994.
Sutton, Peter, ed. "Dreamings: The Art of Aboriginal Australia." Quoted in Terry Smith, "Modes of Production." In Critical Terms for Art History. RobertS. Nelson and Richard Shiff, eds. Pp.237-256. Chicago, London: University of Chicago Press, 1996
Thomas, Nicholas "Richard Bell's Post-Aryanism" Art Monthly Australia#? Pp.20-21, 1995.
"Cold Fusion" American Anthropologist Vol. 98 No. 1 Pp.9-16, 1996.
Possessions. Indigenous Art/Colonial Culture. London: Thames and Hudson Ltd., 1999. Trinh T. Minh-ha "When the Moon Waxes Red." New York: Routledge, 1991. Quoted in Arturo Escobar, Encountering Development: The Making and Unmaking of the Third World. Pp. 220-221. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995.
Wetherell, Margaret and Jonathan Potter Mapping the Language of Racism. New York: Columbia University Press, 1992.
Williams, Brackette F. "A Class Act: Anthropology and the Race to Nation Across Ethnic Terrain" Annual Review ofAnthropology 18:401-44, 1989.
Wollen, Peter "Tourism, Language and Art" New Formations 12 (Winter):43-60, 1990.
Wood, Marilyn "Nineteenth Century Bureaucratic Constructions oflndigenous Identities in New South Wales." In Citizenship and Indigenous Australians. Nicolas Peterson and Will Sanders, eds. Pp. 35-54. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998.
Young, Elspeth Third World in the First. Development and indigenous peoples. London and New York: Routledge, 1995.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.