Maryann Talia Palau on her return to Samoa in 2008

Maryann Talia Pau on her return to Samoa in 2008

We know that Pacific Island populations spread out well beyond the islands themselves. Countries like Australia are home to many from the islands who proudly continue to engage with their culture beyond the seas. But what does it mean to be a Pacific Islander living in a wide brown land like Australia?

Maryann Talia Pau has quickly shot to prominence as an artist able connect her Pacific roots with urban Australian aerials. Though born in Apia, Samoa, she moved to New Zealand while only one year old. She fondly remembers growing up in West Auckland close to family and in a church community, though religion seemed more about the making than the praying. Time was spent singing and making craft. At school, Maryann remembers constructing elaborate flower compositions for school competitions.

At the age of ten, her family moved to Melbourne where she initially felt out of place. This was further compounded by her experiences in high school where she felt different and separate to the other few Samoans attending the school. This was also Maryann’s first experience of being called fair-skinned by other Samoans, which she found very bizarre.

When she was thirteen, Maryann went home to Samoa with her mother and sister, her first trip home since she was born. It was also to mark Maryann’s entry into High School. While she was there, the island experienced a violent cyclone. She remembers staying in her mother’s village where, despite the mayhem outside, everyone was calm — just ‘going about their ‘business as usual. Such was their strength and organisation and knowledge to continue and thrive.’

At Melbourne University, she found a collective who were also exploring what it meant to be Indigenous. There was resonance with the Stolen Generation – ‘I could relate to the whole dislocation thing.’ She has since continued this association through her art. And on a personal level, she started a family with a Murri man from Queensland. The experiences of growing up away from family, of relocating several times with a young family and wanting to engage with the Pacific Island community has prompted the desire to show her art publicly.

Her inspiration for making art came partly from a weaving circle at the Selling Yarns 2 conference in Canberra, 2009 where she worked together with the Elcho artist Roslyn Malŋumba. Maryann remembers Roslyn saying, ‘”You are meant to weave.” It felt so natural and right to be weaving. And to be weaving with a mother from this land, that was special!’

Maryann Talia Palau 'Please, can I weave with you?'

Maryann Talia Pau 'Fa'amolemole, pe mafai ona tatou lalaga fa'atasi?' (Please, can I weave with you?) Pandanus, cream organza and black satin ribbon, shells, fishing line, black cotton fabric; weaving and beading, 2009

Her first break came with the Craft Cubed exhibition city/country at Craft Victoria, last August. Maryann made a breast plate using salvaged pieces from an ie toga (Samoan fine mat) and shells collected over several years. This breast plate is called Fa’amolemole, pe mafai ona tatou lalaga faatasi? (Please, can I weave with you?). Then she found a place in Precious Pendants at Object Gallery, where she created another breastplate called Mo lo’u Tama (For My Dad), an artwork celebrating her family’s 20 years in Australia. Both of these pieces recycle materials collected and gifted and are mixed with synthetic materials such a satin ribbon. Earlier this year, Maryann’s enthusiasm for Rosanna Raymond’s Tapa Jeans collected by the NGV led her to be invited to show companion works for the L’Oreal Melbourne Fashion Festival Cultural Program, which became the exhibition Fashioning the Mana. A total of four adornment works were installed in the Oceanic Gallery, the first contemporary work by a Pacific Island woman for the Gallery. Maryann’s work is currently showing in a group exhibition called ex.o.dus at Blacktown Art Centre, NSW where she has the precious ie toga which she has salvaged and kept for future works.

Maryann Talia Palau, “Mo lo’u Tama” (For my dad)

Maryann Talia Pau, “Mo lo’u Tama” (For my dad), dried pandanus, shells, black and coloured satin ribbon, coloured feathers, 2009

Maryann’s work repurposes traditional Samoan craft to make the kind of overt statements necessary in a noisy urban context. She transforms the collective fala (mat) into individual breastplates, embroidered with shells to proudly proclaim its culture. Making art has enabled Maryann to maintain a connection with Samoa, as she sources materials and objects. The sacredness of each piece is delivered through the materials which have either been gifted especially to Maryann or passed on with the belief that they will be turned into something new, beautiful and meaningful. Even though she left Samoa when she was only one, the strength of island life seems to be something that she carries with her, propelling her forward to share and participate.

Maryann is fiercely positive, hopeful and energised by the dynamic creative representations of the Pacific Islands. ‘The response so far to Pacific Island artists based in Australia has been very affirming. There is still much more we can do, but we are definitely visible and there are great things coming.’ The story is just beginning.

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Standing around the coals discussing craft product

Standing around the coals discussing craft product

Alejandra Bobidilla (right) showing new designs at a cross-roads

Alejandra Bobidilla (right) showing new designs at a cross-roads

Like most other colonies, the nation of Chile was established through a forced dispossession of Indigenous peoples from their land. One group proved particularly hard to displace. Prior to the arrival of the Spanish, the Mapuche had successful resisted an invasion from the Incas. After this, they held off the Spanish for nearly 300 years, as colonists appropriated land to their north and south. The middle territory of Mapuche ranged from Concepción in the north to Chiloé in the south.

Today, Mapuche make up 4% of the population in Chile. Their centre is Temuco, a city of a quarter of a million people, now a tourist hub. In the region of Temuco are many Mapuche communities, which are mostly poor and subsist on crafts and agricultural production. The crafts of weaving and jewellery are particularly strong among Mapuche. In Chile, they are known as well for their herbal medicines and elaborate cosmography, based on the cardinal points.

The World Vision office in Temuco is focused on enabling Mapuche communities to have greater independence and capacity. In July this year, I travelled with Alejandra Bobadilla to communities west of Temuco, towards Puetro Saavedra. These were people known as lafkenche, people of the sea.

Maria Mallafil, Mapuche leader and weaver

Maria Mallafil, Mapuche leader and weaver

Alejandra’s main mission was to encourage handmade textile production among the Mapuche women. We were accompanied by a Mapuche elder, Maria Mallafil, whose familiarity with the communities and understanding of their craft was essential. We mostly met in community halls. These were small rooms with walls covered by notices and posters of common concern. We were offered tortillas and cakes with tea, sometimes matte. For more remote artisans, we would visit their homes.

Both women gave feedback on their weaving and suggested new opportunities. In particular, Alejandra had samples from a Colombian designer for vests which were likely to be popular in the urban markets. She showed these designs and discussed how they might be produced. Along the way, she also dealt with issues ranging from health to agriculture. It seemed she was a very important conduit for information between the communities.

Helena Mallefil, Mapuche basket-maker

Helena Mallefil, Mapuche basket-maker

I was particularly struck by the visit to Helena Mallefil, a basket-maker. She had a particularly humble one-room house, with no glass in the windows, but with a very cosy tray of coals to keep us warm. She make a wonderful orange cake and tea. Looking around at her baskets, I realised that I had purchased one of them last year at ONA as a gift for my mother. As often, I thought of the distance between her seeming threadbare life and the comfortable clientele of ONA in Santiago.

Her baskets are strong, well-made and beautifully coloured with natural dyes. But I noticed one round basket in particular which was adorned with a head, wings and feet. It seemed like a penguin, but it was probably a hen (for putting eggs in). I could see great potential here, following what has happened with Aboriginal basket-makers in Australia’s Western desert, who now produce lively grass sculptures.

Cristina Sagreda designer and her son Daniel in the shop where they sell Mapuche handmade clothing

Cristina Sagreda designer and her son Daniel in the shop where they sell Mapuche handmade clothing

Back in Santiago, Alejandra took me to visit the shop in downtown Providencia (rich suburb of Santiago) where much of the Mapuche textiles are sold. It was a very nice shop, with a wide range of craft products, particularly jewellery. But I thought it was a shame that there wasn’t an outlet that might tell a Mapuche story more completely. I could see it would also make a difference if the designers were able to spend time directly with Mapuche in developing and producing new works.

World Vision do have a broad view of possibilities for Mapuche. They are currently working on a cultural exchange between Mapuche and Australian Indigenous. The facilities offered for Indigenous culture here, such as the Koorie Heritage Trust, may well be the subject of envy on the other side of the Pacific. But the resilience and pride of the Mapuche could be inspiring here too.

The Mapuche have a particularly rich musical, poetic and craft culture. Colonisation has seen them pushed to the margins of Chilean society. It seems a worthwhile challenge to find ways of bridging that divide.

Links:

• World Vision’s program of textile support – Comercio Solidario
• Fair Trade with Mapuche – Funcación Chol Chol
• Craft shop in Santiago – ONA
• More images of the trip – Picasa

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Dom Alexio and Ofelia's grandfather Magno

Luirai Dom Alexio Corte Real of Ainaro and WWII hero (Centre) with Local Chiefs and Antonio Magno (far right). Aileu, Portuguese Timor 1938

The back-strap loom common to Timor and surrounding islands was brought down by migrants from the Bronze-age Dongson culture in mainland South-east Asia around 500BC. Today, geometric Dongson patterning and designs from Indian cloth traded by Arabs and Europeans for slaves and spices in Timor in the second century are mixed with motifs from indigenous myth and lore such as boats and crocodiles representing the original ancestors’ journeys to the islands. Local ceremonies and rituals of birth, marriage and death employ exchange of such cloth to bind together and integrate the worlds of the living and the spirits, expressing a desire for union and balance between the two worlds. Cloth is the physical embodiment of femaleness and, as sacred Lulik objects and heirlooms, they possess special powers.



Partially completed weaving on backstrap loom from Timor-Leste. Loom design by Ofelia Neves Napoleao

Partially completed weaving on backstrap loom from Timor-Leste. Loom design by Ofelia Neves Napoleao

The motif here is a floral design from Portugal—the colonisers of Timor from the 16th Century until the Indonesian invasion of 1975. The designer Ofelia Neves Napoleao is the child of a Portuguese father and a Timorese mother who was the daughter of the Luirai or local king of Ainaro, Antonio Magno. In the feudal-style society of Ofelia’s childhood, Luirai families constituted the upper class ruling over a common farming people and below that, a caste of slaves. In the wet season she watched her royal grandmother, Antonieta Varradas Magno, prepare the cotton, and tie it off with palm leaves for dyeing and then in the dry season, dye and weave the finished cloth. Ofelia also learnt patterns from her fiancé’s royal family, the Napoleaos, of Oecussi, the old Portuguese enclave resting inside Dutch, now Indonesian West Timor. As the eldest grandchild of the last Luirai of Ainaro, Ofelia is accorded a certain respect and status in Timor.



Luirai Dom Alexio Corte Real of Ainaro and WWII hero (Centre) with Local Chiefs and Antonio Magno (far right). Aileu, Portuguese Timor 1938

Luirai Dom Alexio Corte Real of Ainaro and WWII hero (Centre) with Local Chiefs and Antonio Magno (far right). Aileu, Portuguese Timor 1938

These old royal elites were close to their Portuguese colonisers and, like Ofelia, spoke Portuguese. Led by Prince Henry the Navigator, Portuguese colonialism was rooted in the glorious beginnings of the ‘Age of Discovery’ when the Portuguese set out to explore the rest of the world reclaiming millions of lost native souls for the Catholic faith while growing rich on trade and conquests. Ferdinand Magellan arrived in the Spice Islands of which Timor was part early in the 16th century and Timorese myth characterized them as younger brothers, recalled to Timor by the elders of the mountains to rule in worldly affairs.



Ofelia Neves Napoleao at work

Ofelia Neves Napoleao buying cloth at Oecussi, 2008

On the day of the bloody Indonesian invasion in 1975 Ofelia was a young woman forced to run zigzag across their courtyard with her little brothers to dodge bullet sprays. Fleeing the Indonesian occupation she followed her Oecussi fiancé to Perth, spending 20 years there trying to help her family in Timor, raising two sons and becoming a skilled craftswoman. After the destruction of the final Indonesian withdrawal in 1999, she returned and found her place helping local women rebuild their lives by running weaving and craft programs. She now works with the Alola Foundation managing the Taibesse Sewing Centre, in a hot and cavernous shed, part of an old Portuguese Army barracks, overseeing 25 staff sewing handbags from the hand-woven cloth. She visits weavers in the countryside and buys cloth according to the principles of fair-trade. In 2008 she prepared this loom for a Melbourne Exhibition to demonstrate the intricacy and skill of the weaving process.

Sara Niner has been researching the life of East Timorese leader Xanana Gusmao for ten years and will publish his biography this year. She visited East Timor as a backpacker in August 1991 and the country and its struggle has become a big part of her life since then. Travelling around the island in 2000-1 searching out sites of significance in Gusmao’s life she found the land beautiful and solemn and beginning to soften after the immense raw devastation of 1999. She also saw how utterly exhausted the people were and the enormity of the task ahead for them and the agonising frustrating slowness of reconstruction. Yet after one trip far into the east of the country she wrote:

I was filled with euphoria and hope after a rich and emotional day of communication with people of vastly different experience that made it seem as if all things might be possible.

She has worked with the textiles and the weavers since that time to put on exhibitions, research and write about the craft and assist with a program of craft development and economic empowerment.

I feel that this half finished weaving embodies the new country of Timor-Leste where the task of rebuilding continues. Hope prevails but is often hard to sustain in the difficult post-war environment where violence and poverty mean hard lives for many women and men. Yet people continue to struggle everyday working to care for their families and communities and revive their culture.

For more information, download this document.

Sara Niner at work (second from left)

Sara Niner at work (second from left) with sewing co-op Metinaro IDP camp, 2008

Sara Niner has been researching the life of East Timorese leader Xanana Gusmao for ten years and will publish his biography this year. In 2003 she produced a travelling show Weaving Women’s Stories which promoted East Timorese tais, showing the strength and beauty of this traditional weaving . She now works with the Alola Foundation and is an instructional designer with the Ministry of Finance, Timor-Leste Government (RDTL). She is also completing a research project Strong Cloth in Timor-Leste: Women’s Craft and Development at Monash University.
The loom and products can be seen on display in the World of Small Things, Craft Victoria, 18 June – 27 July 2009.

• www.alolafoundation.org

No related posts.

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Damian began with his reading of the ‘Provincial Problem’ – how antipodean jewellers reconcile their desire for recognition in Europe with their artistic drive for independent identity. Damian tries to turn this around by deconstructing the relationship of original and copy, claiming that the original needs the copy to assert its originality. It would be interesting to have a European response to Damian’s argument, or is the absence of north-south dialogue about this part of the very issue?

I chose to use Damian’s visit to consider what Australian jewellery is not. You would think if Australia followed the New Zealand path of Bone, Stone and Shell that it would have made much more of its national stone – the opal. Damian and I spent the rest of the day testing this out with the multitude of opal stores around town. We eventually found an underground jewellery scene (featuring Marcus Davidson and Dan Scurry) that had an entire project taking an Opal-Scope to Lightning Ridge. There’s always an underground if you dig deep enough!

I should reassure you that I didn’t just talk about the absence in Australian jewellery, but also spoke of jewellery with a social conscience as something marking our scene as distinct in the mid-1980s, and the issue of how national identity aligns with Melbourne’s Euro-centrism. But that’s to come in the book.

From a hard to a soft place, I spent the rest of the week in the Selling Yarns conference. This began with a burst of enthusiasm from Alison Page, who promoted the idea of a National Indigenous Design School. Her provocation provided the basis for many conversations to follow, as papers looked at community development and codes of practice. The participants included a strong mix of makers and shakers from all parts of Indigenous Australia. The mood on day one was extremely buoyant and affirming. On day two, that had turned towards potential threats, particularly from shady operators bringing in overseas fakes.

In a way, the conference seemed to offer two paths. One was to commercialise Indigenous craft and design so that it can compete directly with mainstream businesses. The other was to open up communities to cultural tourism – with much consultation.

Selling Yarns 2 managed to meet a great demand for discussion and support of Indigenous craft and design ventures. There was already talk of Selling Yarns 3. Why not? In a way, it seems to fill a space for fibre and textile arts which has lacked the regular conferences of ceramicists, glass artists and jewellers. Though a future challenge is to find a way of broadening the focus to include other media and opportunities for Indigenous men.

Reflecting back on the initial dialogue, it seems that in Australia the non-Indigenous response to Indigenous identity is largely bureaucratic, rather than creative. Perhaps we can think again about the staid image of bureaucracy and see it instead as an adventure in national identity.

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The scenario proved very lively. An Australian Indigenous Design Company was attempting to develop a ‘world craft’ product with traditional Aymara weavers based in the Andes. This was to be sold through a local gift shop to an Australian family. It all began well when a poncho design was developed that featured a hood which appeared very fashionable. But when this failed to sell in the shop, the artisans realised that they had forgotten to ensure payment. Trust broke down between artisans and designers and a stand-off ensued. In the end, it was the consumers who managed to regain trust by developing a ‘sister school’ relationship with the Andean village. This then paved the way for a cultural exchange between the designers and artisans. On the basis of this restored confidence, they were able to develop a more fitted product that was eventually successful.

The workshop revealed many dimensions to the business of cross-cultural product development. In particular, it showed that consumer participation can often be very productive in strengthening these cultural ties.

This exploration has many more possibilities to explore, but these exercises seem wonderful opportunities to share expertise and forge new methodologies. We are certainly entering a phase of ‘world craft’ when new possibilities are critical for its future.

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Damian began with his reading of the ‘Provincial Problem’ – how antipodean jewellers reconcile their desire for recognition in Europe with their artistic drive for independent identity. Damian tries to turn this around by deconstructing the relationship of original and copy, claiming that the original needs the copy to assert its originality. It would be interesting to have a European response to Damian’s argument, or is the absence of north-south dialogue about this part of the very issue?

I chose to use Damian’s visit to consider what Australian jewellery is not. You would think if Australia followed the New Zealand path of Bone, Stone and Shell that it would have made much more of its national stone – the opal. Damian and I spent the rest of the day testing this out with the multitude of opal stores around town. We eventually found an underground jewellery scene (featuring Marcus Davidson and Dan Scurry) that had an entire project taking an Opal-Scope to Lightning Ridge. There’s always an underground if you dig deep enough!

I should reassure you that I didn’t just talk about the absence in Australian jewellery, but also spoke of jewellery with a social conscience as something marking our scene as distinct in the mid-1980s, and the issue of how national identity aligns with Melbourne’s Euro-centrism. But that’s to come in the book.

From a hard to a soft place, I spent the rest of the week in the Selling Yarns conference. This began with a burst of enthusiasm from Alison Page, who promoted the idea of a National Indigenous Design School. Her provocation provided the basis for many conversations to follow, as papers looked at community development and codes of practice. The participants included a strong mix of makers and shakers from all parts of Indigenous Australia. The mood on day one was extremely buoyant and affirming. On day two, that had turned towards potential threats, particularly from shady operators bringing in overseas fakes.

In a way, the conference seemed to offer two paths. One was to commercialise Indigenous craft and design so that it can compete directly with mainstream businesses. The other was to open up communities to cultural tourism – with much consultation.

Selling Yarns 2 managed to meet a great demand for discussion and support of Indigenous craft and design ventures. There was already talk of Selling Yarns 3. Why not? In a way, it seems to fill a space for fibre and textile arts which has lacked the regular conferences of ceramicists, glass artists and jewellers. Though a future challenge is to find a way of broadening the focus to include other media and opportunities for Indigenous men.

Reflecting back on the initial dialogue, it seems that in Australia the non-Indigenous response to Indigenous identity is largely bureaucratic, rather than creative. Perhaps we can think again about the staid image of bureaucracy and see it instead as an adventure in national identity.

Related posts:

1. Matcham Skipper 1921-2011–a make-do bohemian jeweller [...]...
2. Is contemporary jewellery alive or dead?–the prognosis [...]...

Reviewed by Christine Nicholls for World Sculpture News, Hong Kong

Judith Pungkarta Inkamala, Hermannsburg Potters, 2008, Rock Wallaby, hand built terracotta, underglaze decoration, 405 x 265 mm

Judith Pungkarta Inkamala, Hermannsburg Potters, 2008, Rock Wallaby, hand built terracotta, underglaze decoration, 405 x 265 mm

From the Earth is a survey exhibition of contemporary Indigenous Australian ceramics from the Tiwi Islands (situated off the north coast of Australia) and also from Hermannsburg, Ernabella Arts, and Alice Springs Pottery in Central Australia. It features works by established and emerging artists, some of whom have now specialized in ceramics for a considerable length of time.

To the best of my knowledge this is a genuinely groundbreaking exhibition: the first occasion on which Indigenous Australian pottery from Australia’s northern seabord as well as from diverse locations in the Central Desert region have been displayed in a group exhibition. From the Earth, showing in the principal gallery of Adelaide’s highly regarded JamFactory, gives audiences an opportunity to consider and perhaps appraise distinctive regional and personal differences in style, technique and practice. At the same time the exhibition shines the spotlight on certain commonalities evident in these diverse approaches to pottery making.

John Patrick Kelantumama, Tiwi Design, 2001, Purrukapali, earthenware, underglaze decoration, metal, 705 x 270 x 105 mm.

John Patrick Kelantumama, Tiwi Design, 2001, Purrukapali, earthenware, underglaze decoration, metal, 705 x 270 x 105 mm.

The accomplished John Patrick Kelantumama, a senior Tiwi man who is affiliated with Tiwi Design based at Nguiu on Bathurst Island, has worked as a professional potter for more than three decades now. Beginning his long and successful career as an apprentice with Tiwi pottery in 1976, today Kelantumama is recognized nationally as a master potter. Kelantumama’s Purrukupali, fashioned from earthenware and metal with underglaze decoration, depicting the legendary Purrukapali with his infant son Jinani, is an immediate, vivid and touching work. This compelling work relates to the major Tiwi narrative of how death came to be visited upon Tiwi Islanders.

That story goes that after some years of marriage to the old man Purrukapali, Bima, his much younger wife, entered into a ‘hot’ sexual liaison with Japara, her husband’s younger brother. One fateful day the adulterous couple, who habitually left baby Jinani under the shade of an ironwood tree while they went about their sexual romp, forgot about the baby. Returning late on the same afternoon Bima found that her baby son had died underneath the tree – the sun had swung around exposing the child to its strong rays, killing him. This unleashed an entire sequence of violent and desperately sad events that are still, to this day, played out in the ceremonial lives, particularly in the funerary rites, of the Tiwi.

Mark Virgil Puautjimi, Tiwi Design, 2006, Japara - the moon man, earthenware, underglaze decoration, 430 x 170 x 75 mm

Mark Virgil Puautjimi, Tiwi Design, 2006, Japara - the moon man, earthenware, underglaze decoration, 430 x 170 x 75 mm

There are more splendid ceramic works relating to the same extended Tiwi narrative on display in From the Earth. Included among these are Mark Virgil Puautjimi’s Japara (Moon Man), depicting Purrukapali’s younger brother Japara who was transformed into the moon as a result of his transgressions. Lunar craters are understood to be the scars left on Japara’s face – resulting from the fight unto death that took place between the two brothers in the wake of the cuckolded Purrukapali’s devastating discovery of his wife’s adulterous liaison and the consequent death of his infant son Jinani. Cyril James Kerinauia’s marvellous Moonman and his Bima and Jinani also relate to this narrative. The major players in this ancient Tiwi drama of crime and punishment have been rendered with wonderfully wild, spiky ceramic hair. This bestows upon them a somewhat neo-Gothic air – notwithstanding the fact that these ceramic sculptures are rendered in such bright colours. Given the base treachery, violence and originary ills underlying this Tiwi narrative, the protagonists’ ‘feral’ head-dresses seem quite fitting.

There are also a number of fetching Tiwi works depicting everyday life and entirely secular themes, for example, Mark Virgil Puautjimi’s Buffalo, an earthenware work with underglaze decoration. Feral hoofed animals, including camels, donkeys, horses and pigs, none of which are native to Australia, are literally on the loose in many remote Australian outback regions. Rampaging buffalos are both feared and desired (as a magnificent food source) on the Tiwi Islands. Traditional Tiwi geometric designs have been applied to these ceramic sculptures, which are characterized by their extraordinarily left-of-field colour use. Puautjimi’s Buffalo is no exception: vibrant yellows, warm oranges, blue and olive greens have all been used to masterful effect. So what if this ceramic buffalo looks a little like a multi-hued, short-horned wombat? This contributes to the creature’s charm.

Robert Edward Puruntatameri, Munupi Arts and Crafts, 2008, (right) Vessel with Lid, earthenware, underglaze decoration, and sgraffito decoration, 240 x 165 mm; (left) Vase, earthenware, underglaze decoration, and sgraffito decoration, 150 x 105 mm

Robert Edward Puruntatameri, Munupi Arts and Crafts, 2008, (right) Vessel with Lid, earthenware, underglaze decoration, and sgraffito decoration, 240 x 165 mm; (left) Vase, earthenware, underglaze decoration, and sgraffito decoration, 150 x 105 mm

Fellow Tiwi Islander and countryman Robert Edward Puruntatameri, representing Munupi Arts and Crafts, based at Pulurampi on Melville Island, also makes a strong contribution to From the Earth with his vases and appealing round vessels. These he has adorned with tradition-inspired Tiwi geometric designs, fish and other sea creatures including squid. Puruntatameri’s father, the illustrious late Eddie Puruntatameri, is credited as the major founder of Tiwi Pottery along with his apprentice John Bosco Tipiloura. Puruntatameri-the-younger is clearly working hard to keep the family tradition alive. The status of Tiwi men as master carvers becomes overwhelmingly apparent in the aptitude they have shown in the transition to pottery, which is not a vernacular Australian tradition. The carved, wooden three-dimensional sculptures of traditional Tiwi visual arts practice seem to have allowed for a seamless segue into that other three dimensional medium, ceramics. That this has happened in the comparatively short space of time since 1972 when pottery was first introduced to the Tiwi Islands is a formidable accomplishment.

Rona Pananangka Rubuntja, Hermannsburg Potters, 2008, Rock Pigeons, terracotta, underglaze decoration, 410 x 310 mm

Rona Pananangka Rubuntja, Hermannsburg Potters, 2008, Rock Pigeons, terracotta, underglaze decoration, 410 x 310 mm

Travelling south and inland, Judith Inkamala, Hedwig Mocketarinja, Carol Panangka Rontji, Rona Panangka Rubuntja and Rahel Ungwanaka, all from the Arrernte community of Hermannsburg in Central Australia also make notable contributions. The Arrernte potters’ cap-lidded pots, decorated with everyday desert scenes, are rendered in vivid colours, bringing to mind their celebrated precursor, the Hermannsburg school of landscape art, of which Albert Namatjira was not only the progenitor but also the most famous exponent. These women’s ability to create ‘living pictures’ of their desert homeland on these three dimensional pots is exemplary. Without any doubt the pièces de résistance of these works are their sculptural lids, which always relate to something – often fauna – culturally significant to the maker. Hedwig Mocketarinja’s alert, crouching marsupial really caps off her work; as does Carol Panangka Rontji’s rather phallic, predominantly deep green Port Lincoln parrot. In a similar vein, Judith Inkamala brings a wonderfully eye-popping quality to the ‘bush creatures’ she creates and perches atop her bowls: her exquisitely-fashioned rock wallaby and captivatingly importunate perentie (a large burrowing Australian lizard) are cases in point. The Arrernte potters of Hermannsburg began working in the early 1960s and have since transformed ceramics into an art form distinctively their own: their unique, collective artistic ‘signature’ is evident on all of their work. Their skilful hands render these superficially conventional desert landscapes animate and alive.

Anilyuru (Carol) Williams, Ernabella Arts, 2008, Ngayuku Walka, terracotta, underglaze and sgraffito decoration, 75 x 170 mm each

Anilyuru (Carol) Williams, Ernabella Arts, 2008, Ngayuku Walka, terracotta, underglaze and sgraffito decoration, 75 x 170 mm each

Ernabella Arts, situated in the Pitjantjatjara/Yankunjatjara community of Ernabella (Pukatja) in South Australia’s arid north, is also represented in From the Earth, with contributions from sisters Tjimpuna and Carol Williams and several others. Ernabella artists only began experimenting with ceramics a little more than a decade ago but they have already made a considerable impact on the market with their carved and incised sgraffito forms. The sgraffito method, involving decorating pottery or ceramics by scratching through a surface of plaster or glazing to reveal different colours underneath, is the preferred method of many of these artists, no doubt because it taps into other long-run Pitjantjatjara/Yankunjatjara artistic practices, particularly those that relate to wood-carving.

Jillian Davey, 2008, Inma Walka, terracotta, underglaze decoration, 470 x 330 mm

Jillian Davey, 2008, Inma Walka, terracotta, underglaze decoration, 470 x 330 mm

High profile Pitjantjatjara/Yankunjatjara potters Nyukana (Daisy) Baker & Jillian Davey, who also originally hail from Pukatja but are now resident in Alice Springs, also make an impact with their large terracotta, underglaze decorated pots. Both work now at Alice Springs Pottery, the ‘newest kid on the block’ in Indigenous Australian pottery ventures. This enterprise was set up largely to accommodate ceramic artists like Nyukana Baker and Jillian Davey who need to live in Alice Springs whilst they undergo kidney dialysis. While Davey tends towards making beautifully restrained, monochrome works, Baker offers a nicely contrapuntal splash of colour to the display with her large and often flamboyant vessels.

The vigorous, confident works on display in this exhibition indicate that Indigenous Australian ceramics is prospering, despite being a relatively nascent art form. From the Earth demonstrates that what could be described as the recent Australian ‘Aboriginal invention of pottery’ looks forward to a bold, bright future.

Postscript

Christine Nicholls adds an interpretive comment to her review:

Interestingly there is a mission connection in the case of all three enterprises: the Tiwi Islands, Hermannsburg and Ernabella all have mission histories – respectively Catholic, Lutheran and Presbyterian (which is of course one part of today’s Uniting Church). It’s become fashionable these days to give the missions and missionaries a really good bagging or solid drubbing but on balance, in my view, and I’ve never been a missionary myself (far from it) the positives of their contribution can often be seen, for the most part, to outweigh the negatives. For example, notwithstanding their Christianizing and conversion agendas, the mishos DID often encourage people to develop cottage industries such as these pottery co-ops which have proved sustainable in the Tiwi and Hermannsburg cases, over a considerable length of time. This could not have happened if they had simply been imposed upon the people – the Indigenous people involved actually get real pleasure, a feeling of well-being and self-esteem from making and exhibiting their work

Irene Mbitjana Entata, Hermannsburg Potters, 2006, Jesus Footprint, hand built terracotta, underglaze decoration, 330 x 270

Irene Mbitjana Entata, Hermannsburg Potters, 2006, Jesus Footprint, hand built terracotta, underglaze decoration, 330 x 270

With respect to the Christian influence on some of these ceramists’ work, I believe that these influences goes beyond any clear or overt reference to Christianity or Christian iconography such as the Christian cross that Irene Mbitjana Entata has placed on the lid of her obviously Christian-themed work. Judith Pungkarta Inkamala’s red tailed black cockatoo, for instance, has a distinctly angelic quality – a black angel? The same comments also apply to many of the works by the Tiwi artists – the male figures of the much maligned and suffering Purrukapali, cheated on by his wife and brother, seems to be represented in a Christlike manner or with a Christlike dimension in some of the works.

Another factor each of these ceramics enterprises holds in common is the fact that all four, including Alice Springs Pottery, the latest player in this field, the newest kid on the block, have involved and continue to involve productive and fruitful collaborations and partnerships between Indigenous artists and non-Indigenous potters and/or art centre co-ordinators. While 40 or 50 years ago these tended to be asymmetrical relationships, in other words, yes, there was a paternalistic element to them, today, the partnerships mostly take place on a relatively level playing field, founded on mutual respect and recognition. Whilst at one level these enterprises involve an exchange of skills, they also represent a great deal more than that. These endeavours also have value because they work as a ‘two-way’ professional, socio-cultural exchanges where the parties are able to learn about and share each other’s perspectives by working closely together, or ‘sharing the space’ as it were. Over time these enterprises are leading to the Indigenous creative artists independently running them – as is now largely the case with the Tiwi potters today. The figures associated with the Purrukapali/Bima/Japara/ Jinani narrative seems to have acquired the status of Supreme Beings which represents something of a move away from earlier Indigenous cosmologies – at the very least this is indicative of a cultural shift, sociocultural hybridity and so forth – unsurprising in the circumstances I guess. So the Christian references I believe are quite often not apparent in any ‘in your face ‘ way in many of these works, but nonetheless are there…

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