11th Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art

specific to our Yuri tribe heritage and set about creating upward of twenty personalised kuman. The sessions were part discussion, exchange and application. Each individual was invited to draw and colour three designs each, after which we would compare and discuss before finally selecting the design favoured by the group. Resources and logistical issues saw us abandon the option of using traditional timber, in favour of the readily available and lightweight plywood. This distinction between materials suggested that we were no longer aspiring to replicate the kuman as an artefact or defensive weapon loaded with violent histories; we were now in a new tradition of storytelling through kuman paintings. 3 The Yuri, like many of their neighbouring tribes, customarily paint their shields with designs that mark an individual’s connection to their tribal lineage and place. When brought together as a group — and in close range, such as in times of battle — the bold colours and geometric patterns can confuse and disorient. Though intertribal warfare remains an ongoing fact of life for many in the Highlands, decorated timber shields no longer offer effective protection against bullets and other modern fighting methods, so the Yuri and neighbouring tribes largely abandoned them. A similar process of loss affects the transferral of knowledge and cultural value involved in men’s collective shield-making practices. Central to these is the Hausman, a traditional roundhouse, in which Yuri men gather to discuss tribal business, share knowledge, conduct initiation ceremonies, or simply feel connected in a safe space. Focused on the creation of culturally inspired art, Bridgeman’s Hausman has become an important space for the men of Haus Yuriyal to develop a positive sense of personal and cultural identity. On my visit, the men are working, for the first time, with paints their ancestors would have created from traditional materials gathered from the natural environment — beautiful raw umber and earthy ochre, deep charcoal black, and even plant-derived red and blue. They have gathered to collectively discuss ideas for their presentation in the Asia Pacific Triennial, to continue to explore different ways of working with their growing repertoire of personalised kuman designs, and to showcase their culture to their international visitor. Bridgeman quietly leads the group, encouraging them to share more stories, guiding them in developing their designs, and providing the materials (paint, paper and plywood) they need to translate them into vibrant paintings. The men have also been experimenting with the creation of their own textiles, embroidering brightly coloured yarns — also used by their wives for creating bilum (string bags) — onto the backs of five-kilogram rice bags. The resulting paintings and textiles are stunning, with the men’s bold use of bright colour and geometric designs creating dazzling optical effects. While the men work on the floor of the Hausman, Alison Wel sits quietly. She has been creating a series of drawings about the village from stories of the Yuri that she plans to translate, with the assistance of Julie Yopa and other trusted women of the clan, into large textiles created using the same looping technique as the bilum bag. Like the kuman, the bilum is a culturally significant item for the Yuri and is ubiquitous throughout Papua New Guinea. Looped by women, the designs worked into the bags’ open structure traditionally provided vital information about the wearer’s clan, tribe and gender. Today, they are still worn by Highlands women to collect goods from the market and to gather fruit and vegetables from the garden; they are also worn by Highlands men as part of initiation ceremonies. The adoption of the bilum by other cultural groups has coincided with changes in materials, techniques and surface design, even form, with the looping technique being used by some women to create bilum fashion garments. 4 Incorporating blocks of text and images, Wel’s drawings and their planned transformation into large-scale narrative textiles represents one of the most ambitious and directions for this traditional form. 5 As the days pass and the men and Wel busily create their work, Yopa, Gikope and I spend time in the lush gardens surrounding the Hausman. More than just a source of food, the gardens embody knowledge about the natural environment of the Highlands. Like many aspects of this part of the world, the garden is functional, but also beautiful, with tall stakes of winding beans interspersed with bright, colourful flowers. Spiky leaves of rows of pineapples are broken only by the swollen form of the golden fruit, while tall stands of slender sugar cane, broad-leafed taro and banana palms emerge alongside the graceful fern-like leaves of the dini. Fittingly, an integral part of Haus Yuriyal’s display in the Asia Pacific Triennial is a garden, designed by Gikope to articulate the centrality of subsistence agriculture to the lives and culture of the Yuri. Gikope has mapped out the framework for her vibrant, living artwork using stands of sugar cane, cooking bananas and taro, with the exchange of sugar cane being an important gesture of peace and unity in Yuri culture. (above) Kamkau Ike (Haus Toktok) 2024 / Timber, plywood, iron, bilum, fabric, woven pit-pit ( Miscanthus floridulus ) chains, woven pit-pit ( Miscanthus floridulus ) blinds with black semi-gloss and matt stain, fabric and assorted items / 385 x 700 x 460cm / Photograph: Digine Dickson; (below) Bilum 2024 / Twisted and knotted synthetic fibres / Images courtesy: The artists and Milani Gallery, Meanjin/Brisbane ARTISTS+PROJECTS 104 — 105