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

Meanings We Share

Bindi Cole, I  forgive you 2012

Two exhibitions at Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki give prominence to histories and ideas in which viewers can find shared commonality with the art. Numerous artworks in both My Country: Contemporary Art from Black Australia and Five Māori Painters convey deep and strong connectedness to place and people. These exhibitions from Australia and Aotearoa New Zealand cross cultural boundaries, and indicate that no matter what our background is, as viewers we can connect with the ideas found in the art.

Many artists in both exhibitions make art as a way of ‘keeping culture strong’ or passing down culturally specific ideas and practices to younger generations or others in their communities. Alick Tipoti, senior artist from the Torres Strait Islands north of Queensland, is the creator of one of the first works to greet visitors to My Country. Tipoti’s print illustrates the seafaring culture that is historically part of the Torres Strait Islands people. However, his image, Kuyku Garpathamai Mabaig, 2007 also resonates with the classical warrior figures from ancient Greece, Rome and other places. Tipoti employs a marvelous technique in his linocuts, which he has developed on the basis of formal art training, and has led to his works winning accolades such as the Telstra Art Award. However, for Tipoti, the songs that he sings in the presence of such artworks are equally as important as the images for passing on cultural knowledge.

Vernon Ah Kee’s large scale portraits draw the viewer into a close and personal engagement with the life-like figures. A man and child look directly at us from Ah Kee’s canvases in My Country, beautifully rendered in charcoal and conté. Strength of character is evident in the gaze of the sitters. Ah Kee has made more than 30 such images of his relatives, based on early 20th-century photos now stored in national archives and libraries. In Neither Pride nor Courage, 2006 Ah Kee depicts his great grandfather, who was photographed by anthropologist Norman B Tindale as part of scientific studies of the genealogy of Australian Aboriginal people. Ah Kee revives the documentation of the relative he never knew with the intention of reinstating his grandfather’s humanity. The artist also adds the face of a new generation – his son – in a drawing redolent with persistence and hope for a future that will be different for Indigenous and white populations in their relations with each other.

Emily Kame Kngwarreye is one of the senior artists with works in My Country. Kngwarreye has now passed away but her work set a precedent for Australian Aboriginal women in remote locations in the creation of art that explored the application of traditional ideas and forms in conventional media that was new to Indigenous artists at the time. As with works by the artists in Five Māori Painters, in her paintings Kngwarreye has synthesised ancestral stories and historic cultural meanings with aspects of contemporary life. Kngwarreye described works such as Wild Potato Dreaming, 1990 as ‘containing the whole lot, everything’, recalling the worldview expressed by Robyn Kahukiwa. Kahukiwa’s art is imbued with the Māori belief that the past lies before us; the present day connects to the past.

A number of artworks in My Country can be thought of as political, in the ways that artists reflect on contemporary events or assume that art has a role to play in producing the world today. A final work is important to note in reflecting on the connectivity between viewer s and art in My Country and Five Māori Painters. Visitors to My Country leave the exhibition with their senses filled by Bindi Cole’s installation and video I forgive you, 2012. Cole, like several other artists in the exhibition, reflects on the apology that was made to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders by Prime Minister Kevin Rudd in 2008. Although Indigenous Australians continue to hope for ongoing change beyond this apology, which they feel has been slow to occur, Cole’s work asks the viewer to reflect on attitudes of forgiveness toward others at a personal level. Cole’s I forgive you generously reflects on the individual rights and responsibilities of pardoning others, a moving point on which to leave the intersections of these two exhibitions.

– Zara Stanhope, Principal Curator, Head of Programmes

Image credit:
Bindi Cole
Wathaurung people
Australia 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