Gapan gallery at Garma a place where ‘we cry for the owner of this land’


Through the stringybark forest atop an escarpment on the sacred ceremonial grounds of the Yolŋu people in north-east Arnhem Land, the sounds of women crying and howling echo through the trees.

In complete darkness, with nothing but the stars in the night sky, about a dozen Yolŋu women huddle on the sand in an emotional ceremony which had some bystanders watching on in tears.

The local Yolŋu women do this keening known as the practice of milkarri. It’s a chant and is often filled with deep emotion, grief and sometimes joy.

A person takes a picture of a painting illuminated in the dark.

The opening night of the Gapan Art Gallery had attendees flocking to experience the displays.(ABC News: Che Chorley)

It marks the opening of the Gapan Gallery here at the Garma Festival, which is one of the largest gatherings dedicated to celebrating Indigenous culture and addressing societal problems faced by First Nations Australians.

Within moments of the keening’s end, lights around the women turn on, and their art is on full display, hanging from painted trees in a clearing.

Visitors to Gulkula, the land site at which the festival is held, audibly gasp as they see the art for the first time.

“You can feel that you are in nature but somehow everything has a serenity to it,” Will Stubbs says.

Stubbs, the coordinator at Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Centre in Yirrkala, says this experience is a concept born through the art centre and the Yolŋu people back in 2003.

Though the tradition on display is far more ancient than that.

Trees painted white with art hanging on them at night.

Gapan is the white clay you see painted onto the trees. It is a natural pigment harvested by hand from the waterways of north-east Arnhem Land. (ABC News: Che Chorley)

Dozens of people attending the opening appeared in awe as they wandered around the art, captivated by its beauty. Many more queued to purchase pieces.

The art features the latest limited-edition screen prints, etchings and linos from Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Centre’s Yirrkala Print Space.

People look at art hung from trees at night time.

The gallery opened on the first night of the Garma Festival.  (ABC News: Che Chorley)

Gapan Gallery mixes modern world

Stubbs says the art gallery here at Garma combines the modern way of showing art in a traditional “white box” art gallery with an open-air environment.

“It creates the feel of an urban art gallery in an open-air environment,” he says.

“The idea is it’s a white cube and we bring that white sand in every year.

A woman looks at an artwork hanging from a white-painted tree.

Visitors are able to purchase the limited-edition works.(ABC News: Che Chorley)

“If you rake all the leaves away, you’ll see there is probably 20 years of white sand. We relocate some sand from nearby from the traditional owners who actually donate that to us.”

Mr Stubbs says there are 38 prints, with about 25 women contributing to the collection.

Indigenous women walk through trees from which paintings are hanging.

The gallery has different moods for day and night-time visitors.(ABC News: Che Chorley)

Garma is a place for art to shine

Dhambit (Lois) Mununggurr was one of the women at the Gapan Art Gallery on opening night and part of the keening.

She’s a Yolŋu woman from the small community of Wandawuy in East Arnhem Land, somewhere so remote that it’s recommended to travel there in a four-wheel drive.

“We cry for the owner of this land,” she told ABC News.

An Indigenous woman in a wheelchair paints.

Artist Dhambit (Lois) Mununggurr sat in the open-air art gallery for almost the entire festival, working on her craft. (ABC News: Che Chorley)

In 2005 Ms Mununggurr was in a car accident that left her with life-threatening injuries. But that doesn’t stop her from doing the one thing she loves the most: creating art.

She has her art scattered around in the bushes, some depicting her grandfather and others her ancestors.

“I’ve been painting since I was two years old. I’m now 54,” she says.

“[Painting] means everything.”

Paints splattered on a recepticle.

Earth colours are Dhambit (Lois) Mununggurr’s favourite to work with. (ABC News: Che Chorley)

Art as a generational teaching

Andrew Wanamilili remembers being a little boy and watching his father and grandfather paint. It’s what led to him picking up his first paint brush at 10 years old.

“I always sat with them and started to watch how they paint and getting all the [Dreamtime] stories from them and picking it up,” he says.

An Indigenous man painting outdoors.

Andrew Wanamilili wants his children to learn about their culture through art.(ABC News: Che Chorley)

Wanamilili hails from what he describes as a swamp community, Ramingining in East Arnhem Land, which he says heavily inspires his work.

“This is the story about the wetlands, because my people live in the swamp,” he says.

“The turtle is our totem and the crocodile as well.”

Sitting on a chair dug into the sand just behind the Gapan Gallery, Wanamilili paints these two creatures, and explains that he’s painting a story that is part of his community’s songlines.

An over-the-shoulder shot of an Indigenous man painting.

Sitting in the open-air gallery, Andrew Wanamilili says having his work here means a lot to him, as he can share his culture with others. (ABC News: Che Chorley)

He says art helps him to feel supported as he grieves the recent loss of his father.

“I’m just still following in his footsteps and keeping my stories alive … I want to pass it onto my kids and pass it onto the new generations,” he says.

“My two boys are here at Garma and they’re starting to learn.”

An Indigenous man looks up from his painting at the camera.

Andrew Wanamilili has been painting since he was a little boy and hopes to teach his children so they can keep the tradition going.(ABC News: Che Chorley)

Wanamilili says Garma is an opportunity for him to come together with other Yolŋu people

“We share all the connection lines, all the storylines, and that’s how we connect and recognise each other, all the Indigenous people,” he says.

“That’s why we connect through song lines and painting.”

With non-Indigenous people attending every year, Wanamilili says it’s an opportunity for two-way learning, and for them to learn from and listen to Aboriginal people.

Posted , updated 



Source link

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *