Floating life: contemporary Aboriginal fibre art

20 21 Ngarrindjeri artist Yvonne Koolmatrie has devised her own strategy for sustainability, which she explained to Carolyn Sanders: I get my material (rushes) from the river, in South Australia, Victoria and New South Wales. It is becoming very hard to find . . . people are burning them and putting Round-up (weed killer) on them . . .That’s why I’m trying to protect the seeds in my work now, in a time capsule. I put the seed heads in the middle of my sculptures for the future. Because the way they are going on, people destroying the material, we just won’t be able to find it anymore, it will be extinct. The time capsule is a very important thing for the future. 13 People from Jumbun in central Queensland, too, have seen changes to the natural environment due to the ravages of banana farming in their region. Cleared lands make it difficult to access sufficient quantities of lawyer vine for their weaving; and pesticides pollute the rivers and deform the fish that spawn there, with these effects now being recorded by scientists offshore on the Great Barrier Reef. Past, present, future Delicate, ephemeral fibre pieces are given longevity through storage and exhibition in museum conditions. Their preservation and refined presentation can only be achieved through inspired conservation solutions and preparation techniques, ensuring optimum conditions for long-term survival, possibly for centuries. Though the memory of uses and purposes may have dimmed, patterns and designs which evolved over time are assured a future. What will an audience of the future glean from the pieces in ‘Floating Life’? What will their influence and relevance be? From my own experience in exploring early museum collections, there is so much to be read from historic works. An arresting, though eerily disturbing, piece seen at the Western Australian Museum was a woman’s mourning cap made from knotted and netted bark fibre string and looped raw asbestos fibres (c.1900) from central Queensland. A large roll of handmade fishing net from Lake Eyre, unbelievably fine, discovered in the collections of the Cambridge University, Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, caused me to comment to surprised staff, ‘Do you realise its importance, how rarely it rains there?’ Fibre connections The ‘Floating Life’ collection embodies in its fabric a myriad of social, cultural and emotional connections. Preparation for the exhibition has allowed for reflection on key personal and professional relationships, some recent, others forged over the years. Artists, dealers, mentors, collectors and colleagues were vital to the process, though death or distance may have separated us. Major collections, exhibitions and publications on Aboriginal fibre art, now much in evidence, are testament to the dedication of makers, researchers, curators, gallerists and enthusiasts who have travelled to the source. They’ve wondered, questioned, meticulously recorded and collected to give this genre a serious presence in the world of contemporary Australian art. Lena Djamarrayku (1943–2005), the mother of prominent fibre sculptor Lena Yarinkura, was an inspirational figure in this movement from early on. The epitome of a dedicated artisan, she could make (and use) traditional fishing gear; take time to teach a small grandchild the first tentative steps in rolling bark string; and explore the unique properties of the soft leaves of the sand palm, looping bags as fine as lace. Always experimenting, she In Arnhem Land, too, ancient rituals of diplomacy and exchange continue in modern life. Boys are prepared for their initiation into the world of sacred knowledge and responsibility, through lush body decorations featuring painted clan designs and feathered strings. Banumbirr poles — wrapped with hand-rolled string, painted, and hung with ornate feather tassels — are used in dhuwa moiety maradjirri ceremonies, occasions of sociability and enjoyment which celebrate the importance of the morning star and formalise links between disparate groups. In yirritja murrukundja rituals, the historic annual visits by Macassan traders to harvest trepang (sea cucumber) are remembered. Songs, dances and ground sculptures affirm the place of commodities they introduced; swords, knives, rice and colourful fabrics were some of the influential goods absorbed into daily life. In the finale, a ceremonial pole is ornately decorated with clan designs, and also with swathes of cotton cloth. Synthetic ropes are attached to the pole and pulled by dancers to simulate the rolling movement of a Macassan prahu (boat) in rough seas. In a moving finale, songs tell of the sadness felt by Aboriginal people at the departure of the Macassans, as they trim their sails and fix their masts in preparation for travel back to their homeland. Body adornment The many objects in ‘Floating Life’ intended for the adornment of the body attest to the notion that creating beauty and decorating our person is a universal compulsion. In 2008, the Gallery acquired a carefully considered group of richly ornate objects collected between 1993 and 2000 by people close to artists from Galiwin’ku (Elcho Island) in Arnhem Land. It was a rare opportunity to embrace and honour such important and beautiful objects. Richly feathered headbands, armbands, tassels and bags were included, and even a carved wooden shuttle wound with prepared feather string. Following an artistic project in Galiwin’ku in 2007 with Sydney-based jeweller Alice Whish, master fibre artists Mavis Warrngilna Ganambarr and Rosemary Mamuniny Gurruwiwi have translated these traditional forms into stunning pieces of wearable art using local natural materials, including pandanus, string, feathers, shells, shark vertebrae and seeds. Under Whish’s guidance, more durable materials were introduced — bush string was replaced with elastic and monofilament, and some of the works were finished with silver clasps. In ‘Floating Life’, Shark and pul pul necklace 2006, with entwined shark bones and feathers, contrasts with the smooth brown seed in Matchbox seed pendant 2006. The miniature Pendant bag 2006 was inspired by the small ritual power bags clenched between men’s teeth during ceremonies in Arnhem Land, seen by the artist in the Museum Victoria collection. The works of Whish and the Galiwin’ku artists were exhibited at Object Australian Centre for Craft and Design, Sydney, in November 2007. Environment Growing environmental concerns are connected to a current focus on natural products and sustainable industry. It has been said that whilst a weaver is working with a freshly cut palm leaf to make a bag, the next leaf is growing to replace it. Aboriginal fibre artists using natural materials are often aware of early warning signs of environmental change. As early as 1995, Ngarrindjeri woman Ellen Trevorrow was speaking about the silting of the lower Murray River and its reduced flow, inadequate for flushing the mighty Coorong, which was already becoming sour and stinking in parts. 12 Weaving rushes struggled to grow in over- salinated soil, and customary practices were threatened. Opposite Anna Bulkunu Garrawurra Liyagawumirr people NT b.1928 Shuttle with feathered bush string 1993 Wood, red-winged parrot and red-collared lorikeet feathers with bark fibre string 4.2 x 27 x 7cm Acc. 2008.270 Purchased 2008 with funds from Margaret Mittelheuser, am , and Cathryn Mittelheuser, am , through the Queensland Art Gallery Foundation Gali Yalkarriwuy Gurruwiwi Galpu people NT b.1942 Ceremonial headband 1997 Bark fibre string, red-winged parrot feathers, native beeswax with white clay 4 x 25.5cm Acc. 2008.272 Purchased 2008 with funds from Margaret Mittelheuser, am , and Cathryn Mittelheuser, am , through the Queensland Art Gallery Foundation