Old stories, new voices

Vincent Serico, Carnavon collision (Big map) 2006 (installation view)

Artists in My Country and Five Māori Painters, two exhibitions currently on show at Auckland Art Gallery, tell stories about Dreaming, family, politics and contemporary life. Many of these stories don’t appear in – and some are actively written out of – mainstream histories. The artworks that these artists create offer affecting new ways of considering and understanding the past and the world in which we exist.

Vincent Serico, Carnavon collision (Big map) 2006

In the first room of My Country, under the theme of ‘My History’, hangs Vincent Serico’s Carnavon collision (Big map), 2006, at first glance a seemingly peaceful history painting, but one which in fact subtly allude to violent incidents between white settlers and the Jiman people in Central Queensland in the 19th century. With an eye on the past, Serico records memories passed down from others with naïf-like simplicity, he went on to produce a folio of images depicting tribal histories in Some people are Stories. These works needle accepted versions of the past – the victors’ histories – giving a voice to those who were silenced while keeping Indigenous knowledge alive.

Storytelling in art also responds to contemporary life and events as they happen – creating immediate visual interpretations. Aboriginal artist Gordon Hookey and senior Māori artist Robyn Kahukiwa offer contemporary perspectives on national politics with works such as King Hit (for Queen and country), 1999 and Bloodscent 2004. Hookey’s painted punching bag and gloves in King Hit critique leader of the One Nation party Pauline Hanson’s position and takes a weighty aim at the Howard government and its relationship with Hanson’s party during the late 1990s. Robyn Kahukiwa’s Bloodscent, a response to Don Brash’s infamous Orewa speech of 2004, in which he called for an end to Treaty grievances and ‘one rule for all’, viscerally alludes to the speech’s fuelling of racist sentiment. This is consciousness-raising storytelling reminding the viewer of surprisingly recent events.

Gordon Hookey, King Hit (for Queen and country) 1999 (installation view)

With recognisable and provocative imagery, Hookey and Kahukiwa interrogate the actions of political figures, and challenge the sanctioned speeches and policies of their nation’s governments. Using animal allegories, figurative characters and iconic symbols painted in a bold, colourful style they evoke deep concerns about the reality of Indigenous people’s lives. In Hookey’s Defy, 2010 kangaroos, native to Australia, represent Indigenous people, while in King Hit (for Queen and country), 1999, politicians and the police become pigs – animals some consider, unclean and which were introduced to Australia. Even with their pronounced porcine features, the cartoonish figures of King Hit remain recognisable as Pauline Hanson, David Oldfield and Prime Minister John Howard. Under the umbrella of nationalism, Hanson advocated for policies unsympathetic to cultural difference. On the canvas of King Hit, Hookey symbolises the power structure of the state with row upon row of police, all of whom look the same. But it’s not all dark, as Hookey wraps his Orwellian scene round a piece of gym equipment, the disturbing nature and impact of the imagery is softened with humour. Hookey likened his bag to a dart board hanging in a staff room onto which someone has stuck an image of the boss. With the Aboriginal flag painted on a pair of boxing gloves Hookey suggests the oppressed can fight back by making the king hit.

Robyn Kahukiwa, Bloodscent 2004

Contrasting Hookey’s cartoonish lampooning, Kahukiwa’s Bloodscent offers a response to the Orewa speech which appears like a scene from a frightening fairy tale. Kahukiwa also uses animals to represent problems in society: the mythical and leonine Taniwha, emblazoned with the Tino Rangitiratanga flag, arches its head back while a pack of grey dogs stalk it from behind symbolising those in society who attack when a group or individual is weakened. Like the best fairy tales or myths, the messages here run deep, and have the power to amplify for greater effect and better clarity.

- Julia Waite, Assistant Curator

Image credits:

Vincent Serico 
WakkaWakka and KabiKabi people
QLD 1949-2008
Carnarvon collision (Big map) 2006
Synthetic polymer paint on linen
203 x 310cm
Acc. 2007.245
Purchased 2007. Queensland Art Gallery Foundation

Gordon Hookey
Waanyi people
Australia  QLD/NSW  b.1961
King hit (for Queen and Country) 1999
Synthetic polymer paint and oil on leather punching bag and gloves with steel swivel and rope noose
Bag: 96 x 34cm (diam.);  gloves:  29 x 16 x 12cm (each);  rope noose: 250cm
Purchased 2000.  Queensland Art Gallery Foundation Grant

Robyn Kahukiwa
Bloodscent 2004
oil on canvas
private collection, Wellington
image courtesy of the artist

The hardest words to say…

Tony Albert, Sorry 2008, Found kitsch objects applied to vinyl letters,
Collection: Queensland Art Gallery | Image courtesy: QAGOMA 

My Country includes artworks that directly comment on Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s 2008 Apology to members of the Stolen Generations and their families. Tony Albert’s Sorry, 2008, spells out the climax of Rudd’s speech in large black type, but reverses the word to read YRROS and in doing so calls into question the effect of the Apology. For Albert, ‘Sorry is just a word which means nothing if it is not backed up by real outcomes.’ The objects that decorate this text – ashtrays, plates and other pieces of Aboriginalia – were picked up by the artist in second-hand stores. They show a persistent representation of Aboriginal bodies in items of Australian home décor and tourist souvenirs. Male figures dominate – a figure holding boomerang and spear faces off against a kangaroo on a cork beer mat in one of many examples of that ethnographic stereotype, the ‘noble warrior’. Stereotypes such as this, authored by someone else, erase individuality. They do not reflect the realities for the Stolen Generations, or those before them. Covering arguably the most important word of Rudd’s Apology in the material which helped build a generalised and damaging perception of Aboriginal people offers uncomfortable visual evidence of why the Apology was necessary.

A group of works in the exhibition bring the realities of those generations and families affected by racist laws and practices to light, bridging the gap between collective and individual histories and emphasising the personal with artworks which embody specific familial stories and practices. Some of these works relate to the body, recalling objects that were worn or carried, and convey a sense of everyday realities – their physicality evokes the spirit of the individual and their daily struggles.

Dale Harding, Unnamed 2009, lead and steel wire
Collection: Queensland Art Gallery | Image courtesy: QAGOMA 

Dale Harding’s Unnamed, 2012, a lead breast plate inscribed with his grandmother’s new name – ‘W38’ – connotes the harsh treatments and the specific use of ‘king plates’ as a method of identification. The rust and weight of the object with its alphanumeric code symbolises the dehumanising process of classification and control; its decayed surface suggests a forgotten or buried history. Looking at the breastplate gives us a sense of connection with Harding’s grandmother, and we empathise with the indignity she would have felt being forced to hang the large, heavy plate around her neck and having her name replaced by a code.

Wilma Walker, Kakan (Baskets) 2002 (installation view) 

Individual stories are powerfully communicated in works which convey a sense of the physical presence of the body. Wilma Walker’s Kakan (Baskets), 2002 recalls the baskets made by her mother. As a baby, Walker was hidden in baskets like these to avoid being forcibly removed from her family – to avoid becoming one of the Stolen Generations. Looking at the baskets’ bulbous forms we can easily imagine her tiny body curled up inside and covered by leaves.

Foreground Wilma Walker, Kakan (Baskets) 2002,
background Tony Albert, Sorry 2008 (installation view) 

One of the most striking moments in the exhibition is the presentation of these baskets in front of Tony Albert’s Sorry. Here, the life of someone personally affected by a state policy in practise confronts Rudd’s Apology, as interpreted by Albert. Walker’s handmade baskets, infused with the memories of her early life and with the making traditions of her people, evoke a sense of intimacy and human frailty and contrast the brittleness of the mass-produced Aboriginalia in Sorry. Both works remind us of trauma suffered and together create a confronting reminder about the need to honestly face historical facts.

Bindi Cole, I forgive you 2012, Emu feathers on MDF board
Collection: Queensland Art Gallery | Image courtesy: QAGOMA

In the exhibition’s final room Bindi Cole’s response to the 2008 Apology is writ large in emu feathers attached to letters. The sensual and protective qualities of I forgive you, 2012 – its layers of soft plumage – look capable of absorbing shock, which in forgiving one must do. Like Wilma Walker’s baskets, I forgive you was made by hand, each feather stuck down individually to create each word of the powerful sentence. In contrast to the critical position of Albert’s Sorry, and its seeming rejection of the Apology, Cole’s feathered forgiveness is empowering – reconciling differences and opening the door for future relations. According to Cole, ‘forgiveness is about taking your power back . . . no longer allowing that thing that hurt to live inside you.’

– Julia Waite, Assistant Curator, Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki 


Image credits:

Tony Albert
Girramay people
QLD b.1981
Sorry 2008
Found kitsch objects applied to vinyl letters
99 objects: 200 x 510 x 10cm (installed)
The James C Sourris, AM, Collection
Purchased 2008 with funds from James C Sourris through the Queensland Art Gallery Foundation

Dale Harding
Bidjara and Ghungalu peoples
QLD  b.1982
Unnamed 2009
Lead and steel wire
35 x 26 x 3cm
Gift of Julie Ewington through the Queensland Art Gallery Foundation 2013

Wilma Walker
Kuku Yalanji people
QLD  b.1929 d.2008
Kakan (Baskets)  2002
Twined black palm (Normanbya normanbyi) fibre (basket), with lawyer cane (Calamus sp.) fibre (handle)
Three baskets:  93 x 37 x 36cm;  77 x 29 x 26cm;  68 x 32 x 31cm
Commissioned 2002 with funds from the Queensland Art Gallery Foundation Grant

Bindi Cole 
Wathaurung people 
VIC b.1975 
I forgive you 2012 
Emu feathers on MDF board 11 pieces: 100 x 800cm (installed, approx.)
Purchased 2012. Queensland Art Gallery Foundation