John Mawurndjul
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JOHN MAWURNDJUL ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Published 2015 by Annandale Galleries 500 copies Copyright John Mawrndjul, John Bulunbulun & Annandale Galleries ISBN 978-0-992 4640-2-8 Design by Anne & Bill Gregory Production by Ana Lopez Catalogue photography by Murray Fredericks Landscape photography by Jon Altman & Apolline Kohen Photos P22, 36 & 40 by Bill Gregory All barks & poles natural earth pigments, & pva fixative Printed by Sydney’s Print & Promotion Solutions Front cover: John Mawurndjul Ngalyod (Rainbow Serpent - detail) 2012 185 x 71 cm JMA94 Fronticepiece: John Mawurndjul Milmilngkan (detail) 2009 155.5 x 91 cm JMA65 Back cover: John Bulunbulun Body Design (detail) 2009 125 x 83 cm M849 JOHN MAWURNDJUL JOHN BULUNBULUN Rarrk Masters Exhibition dates 14 April - 23 May 2015 Exhibition curated by Apolline Kohen ANNANDALE GALLERIES 110 Trafalgar Street Annandale Sydney NSW 2038 Australia Telephone (61-2) 9552 1699 Fax (61-2) 9566 4424 [email protected] www.annandalegalleries.com.au Gallery Hours Tuesday - Saturday 11:00 - 5:00 pm Directors Anne & Bill Gregory INTRODUCTION I left Maningrida in 2008 after six years as the Arts Director of Maningrida Arts & Culture. In July 2014 I came back to Maningrida for a short holiday. On the way, I was both excited and nervous about reconnecting with old friends and the many artists I had worked with. When our car reached the Mumeka river crossing, I felt I had never really left. Everything looked, felt, even smelled so familiar… A group of Djelk rangers were having lunch at the crossing, and when they saw me they immediately told me that Balang (John Mawurndjul) was at side camp in Maningrida. Obviously, they thought I was coming to see Balang. It was true. I had missed him. So, we went straight to side camp. And, yes, Balang was sitting outside the ‘yellow house’ with his wife Kay and a couple of his grandchildren. A very familiar scene, except that something was missing: no painting paraphernalia was in sight. I knew Balang had not been painting for a while, which I had found sad but not surprising. Kay and Balang greeted me with a hug and we sat down for a chat and a cup of tea. Quickly, our conversation turned to art and memories of the numerous exhibitions and trips we had made together. We laughed and felt nostalgic. The next day, I went to the arts centre and noticed a number of paintings by Balang in the storerooms…. They sat, as if abandoned, among a massive stock of artworks. A handful of magnificent paintings by Bangardi (John Bulunbulun) also caught my attention. They were obviously not recent as Bangardi sadly passed away in 2010. I actually recognised a couple of paintings I had put aside for an exhibition back in 2008. I immediately felt the urge to put an exhibition together. In my days the relationship between Balang and Bangardi was one of great respect. There was also a bit of rivalry between the two artists as both had been celebrated by the art world and had received many awards. Who was ‘number one’ was a regular question they asked me. Thankfully, their artistic style was almost diametrically opposed. One had gone for innovation and breaking boundaries, the other had cherished mastering the traditional way of depicting his country and important stories. This meant I could easily answer that Bangardi was the master of old style and Balang the master of innovation. Both men seemed satisfied with my answer. Balang’s paintings were commanding much higher prices than any other artists in Maningrida. However, Bangardi was a true gentleman and never emphasised the issue with me. He knew it was not my fault. It was the crude market reality of the 2000s: buyers preferred the innovator. But, he also knew that in the long run, he would not be forgotten and that his work would continue to hang in museums across the world. He was quietly confident about his art. And so was Balang. To me, in 2014, it just made sense to try to put an exhibition together that would celebrate their talent. I suppose it was my way to pay a personal and professional tribute to two exceptional men I had the privilege to work with for some years. I spoke to Balang about my idea of a show. I knew Balang would understand why I wanted to include Bangardi’s work in the exhibition. Indeed, he welcomed the idea. I suggested Annandale Galleries as the venue. It was a natural choice: both artists had exhibited with Annandale in the past; both artists liked Bill and Anne; both artists regarded Annandale Galleries as a ‘number one’ gallery. And from my perspective, if anyone could reignite Balang’s career and pay tribute to Bangardi’s work adequately, it was Annandale Galleries. 4 Balang and I did the initial selection of works together, just like in the old days. Balang was again the professional artist at work: focused, passionate, critical and committed. I then approached the Arts Director, Lucy Bond, at the arts centre and called Bill. They both welcomed the idea and worked out the details. My work was done. Well, not quite….I would like to see Balang painting again. Maybe this exhibition will encourage him to resume painting. I just know that the artistic fire in him is not dead. It is just dormant. In 2001, Mawurndjul said to me in an interview for a catalogue essay ‘my head is full up with ideas’. I believe it is still the case. Apolline Kohen 25 March 2015 Apolline Kohen with her daughter and John Mawurndjul and grandson 2014 5 To rarrk or not to rarrk, that is the question Jon Altman, Emeritus professor in Anthropology, The Australian National University. To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? I never thought I would be quoting William Shakespeare Act 3, Scene 1 as a provocation for considering the artistic fortunes of my old friend John Mawurndjul who I generally call by his subsection name Balang. Rarrk describes the tight cross-hatching design that is ubiquitous to the painting style of the people of much of Arnhem Land, and I have taken the liberty here of turning rarrk the noun into a verb. More correctly I should refer to -rarrkbimbun ‘to paint rarrk’, invariably with naturally-occurring ochres and pigments often sourced from important sacred or djang places in the sentient Kuninjku landscape; material from sacred places used to paint designs that enact in public form the power that bestows sacredness on these places. Over a long career Balang has refined a delicate and shimmering rarrk, his hallmark, reflecting the dexterity and creative genius that have made him the foremost bark painter of the last two decades. Since I first met Balang he has always been an artist. In 1979 and 1980 I lived with him at Mumeka outstation on his Kurulk clan lands when he was a young aspiring artist, hunter, ceremony and family man and I was a young doctoral student. We hunted together, walked everywhere on his country and went to ceremony together; and I watched him paint, on bark and on bodies. Balang taught me a great deal about the Kuninjku world view and life ways, insights that have had a career-long impact. From the 1980s Balang decided to focus much energy on painting. By the 1990s he had become Australia’s best known bark painter. In 2003 he won the Clemenger prize, in 2004 he was lead artist at the major retrospective Crossing Country at the Art Gallery of NSW. In 2005 and 2006 he had a major retrospective Rarrk John Mawurndjul at the Museum Tinguely, Basel and Sprengel Museum Hannover; he had important books like Between Indigenous Australia and Europe: John Mawurndjul published about him and his practice. In 2006 he was heavily involved on site at the Musée du Quai Branly commission and in 2009 he won the Melbourne Art Foundation award for Artist of the Year, the first Indigenous artist to do so. I remember vividly giving a biographical celebratory speech in his honour in his presence on that occasion. In 2010 he was awarded an AM ‘For service to the preservation of Indigenous culture as the foremost exponent of the Rarrk visual art style’. These were the good times; Balang was at his peak, living entirely and comfortably on his arts earnings. In 2010 I wrote a short essay for a solo show at the now defunct Gallery Gabrielle Pizzi in Melbourne. I was amazed and thrilled by Balang’s indefatigable commitment to his arts practice as he approached 60, his extraordinary energy and almost obsessive drive to innovate. I wrote a short essay ‘Still he keeps rarrking, rarrking’. 6 Milmilngkan 2009 156 x 73 cm JMA89 385-09 7 Like many others, including Balang, I was blindsided by his success and could not foresee that his artistic career would go into free fall. Some of this was due to unforeseen factors; the Global Financial Crisis impacted cruelly on the visual arts sector, Indigenous art centre sales nationally declined by over 50 per cent between 2008 and 2011 and Balang was not immune from such global forces. Other factors compounded this national decline locally. After extraordinarily collaborations with a string of excellent arts advisers, Diane Moon, Andrew Hughes, Fiona Salmon and, most importantly, Apolline Kohen and some top notch commercial galleries, relations with a revolving door of new advisers soured and Balang became disengaged.