Week 12: Kev Carmody

Watching a program over the weekend about the life's work of musician Paul Kelly (Paul Kelly: Stories of Me, Sunday 27th October, 9.30pm, ABC1) reminded me about an album we have at home called Cannot Buy My Soul, a tribute compilation of the music of Kev Carmody. I was reminded because the program included the song From Little Things Big Things Grow, which was co-written by Kelly and Carmody in 1991. As a whole, the oeuvre of Kev Carmody speaks about Indigenous rights with this particular song telling the story of the Gurindji Strike which began in August 1966. After years of the exploitation of Indigenous people who were forced into labour for very little food, money and shelter because they wanted to stay on their land which had been overtaken by cattle farming, Australia felt the shockwaves of revolt when spokesman Vincent Lingiari led a walk-off at the Wave Hill cattle station in the Northern Territory. The strike lasted for seven years before the Labor government of Gough Whitlam finally negotiated with the Vesteys pastoral company to give back a portion of the land to the people, immortalised in the following image:

Vincent Lingiari and Gough Whitlam [Image Source: National Museum of Australia]

It is interesting to note that this was not the first Indigenous demand for Land Rights, but it was the first to attract wide public support within Australia. I am overwhelmed by the strength of the Gurindji people to maintain the strike for seven years, which through their persistence ignited the spark in the Land Rights cause to allow many more language groups to reclaim their land.

[Information Source: ABC Online]

The passion Kev Carmody holds for further work in eliminating Indigenous poverty and achieving equality in all respects is clear in his songs. Other tracks of his include Thou Shalt Not Steal:

Thou Shalt Not Steal

In 1788 down Sydney Cove
The first boat-people land
Said sorry boys our gain’s your loss
We gonna steal your land
And if you break our new British laws
For sure you’re gonna hang
Or work your life like convicts
With chains on your neck and hands

CHORUS
They taught us
Oh Oh Black woman thou shalt not steal
Oh Oh Black man thou shalt not steal
We’re gonna civilize
Your Black barbaric lives
And teach you how to kneel
But your history couldn’t hide
The genocide
The hypocrisy to us was real
’cause your Jesus said
you’re supposed to give the oppressed
a better deal
We say to you yes whiteman thou shalt not steal
Oh ya our land you’d better heal

Your science and technology Hey you can make a nuclear bomb
Development has increased the size to 3,000,000 megatons
But if you think that’s progress
I suggest your reasoning is unsound
You shoulda found out long ago
You best keep it in the ground

Job and me and Jesus sittin’
Underneath the Indooroopilly bridge
Watchin’ that blazin’ sun go down
Behind the tall tree’d mountain ridge
The land’s our heritage and spirit
Here the rightful culture’s Black
and we sittin’ here just wonderin’
When we get the land back

You talk of conservation
Keep the forest pristine green
Yet in 200 years your materialism
Has stripped the forests clean
A racist’s a contradiction
That’s understood by none
Mostly their left hand hold a bible
Their right hand holds a gun

...and Pillars of Society:

Pillars of Society

The pillars of society
Cruise down the road each day;
They got the economic wherewithall
We can’t afford to pay
They got numbered bank accounts
Their system assures they win
They exploit the population we on the outside lookin’ in

CHORUS
Them pillars of society
Drive us like a tool
To them that cool

They drive Mercedes Benz and Porsches
Live Rolls Royce gilt-edged lives
You can tell the affluent effluent
By the status symbols that they drive
When you on the dole queue
They tell you to your face
You a bludger on their system
And a blight on the human race

They grace the social pages
Always make the news
At the church on Sunday
They crowd in the front pews
There’s a hierachy of dominace
With the power at the top
If you think you’ve found the magic key
You’ll find they’ve changed the locks

Walkin’ down the freeway
On their dotted line
We’d like to make decisions
But they won’t allow the time
It’s said religion is the opium
I say the media’s the cocaine
24 hours of propanganda
druggin’ my poor brain

They confer titles of status and dominance
On their progeny and their class
“sir” – “Your honour” –
“Your Grace” – “Your Highness” –
We’re made to polish
And lick their____brass
But you my friend can be like them
If you have their million dollar fee
But you’ll find their system’s designed
To keep us in line
And walkin’ on our knees

[Lyric Source: Kev Carmody]

The lyrics Carmody writes are beautifully poetic, reminding me of the songs of Bob Dylan in their social consciousness. I love to listen to the covers from the Cannot Buy My Soul album as they demonstrate the immense respect the contemporary music world holds for him. I think Carmody is an amazing figure who continues to write and inspire even in his late sixties, and he demonstrates that art can have a message and still be enjoyed popularly.

Kev Carmody [Image Source: Australia Council]

Week 11: The Art of Australia with Edmund Capon

This week was the first episode of the ABC's new program The Art of Australia, hosted by former director of the Art Gallery of New South Wales, Edmund Capon. It was a fascinating episode covering the period in Australia's history from convict art to the turn of the twentieth century. What I loved the most about Capon's take on this period was his commentary concerning the figures of Aboriginal people within this art. Instead of only discussing the aesthetics of these historical works, Capon pointed out that artists of this time either included Aboriginal figures in their paintings as a novelty figure or as a subversive preservation of a race they believed was dying out.

Joseph Lycett, Aborigines using fire to hunt kangaroos, c1820, watercolour and gouache on paper, [Image Source: Sydney Living Museums]

Eugene von Guerard, Stony Rises, Lake Corangamite, 1857, oil on canvas, [Image Source: National Gallery of Australia]

With this perspective, it is saddening to view these works and their naivete. It is also upsetting to learn more about white Australian intent to wipe out Aboriginal people such as in Tasmania where a clearance policy was enacted by George Augustus Robinson and significant proportions of the population were transported to Flinders Island where they died of disease, soldier brutality and broken hearts. Happily, the common thought at the time that the Aboriginal race was doomed evidently became disproved, although not without so intent. Capon interjects this history with the work of contemporary artists such as Ricky Maynard, a direct descendant of the incorrectly-believed "extinct" lineage of Tasmanian Aboriginals whose work comments on this family trauma.

Ricky Maynard, Broken Heart, 2005, gelatin silver print, [Image Source: Stills Gallery]

 So far I am very much enjoying the series because not only has it covered artists I am already familiar with from previous art theory subjects, but it is introducing me to new ones such as Maynard, and highlighting aspects of the work that I had overlooked, particularly in regards to the incidentally included Indigenous figures. I think it will be great to continue moving chronologically through Australian history since colonisation until we reach the mid to late twentieth century when Aboriginal artists finally became appreciated and respected.

The Art of Australia, Tuesday 8.30pm, ABC1

Week 10: Nici Cumpston at the Art Gallery of South Australia

One of my favourite things we have done this semester in our tutorials was to take a tour of the Art Gallery of South Australia with curator Nici Cumpston. Nici was fantastic at showing us how increasingly Indigenous artworks are being integrated with the European-style art, particularly throughout the historic Elder Wing. It is fantastic to see that this other side of history is being told and simultaneously quite sad that it is only a new development. I loved hearing Nici reason why the works on display, such as handmade baskets, were art works rather than just museum pieces, and her enthusiasm for promoting these works was infectious. It was the little things she pointed out to us, such as the fact that previously many uncredited pieces were labelled "unknown" rather than "unknown artist" which made me realise how hard we need to keep working to achieve Indigenous equality in all respects.

She showed us some fantastic pieces that have been integrated into the Art Gallery collection, including beautiful shell necklaces (which had been cleaned by ants and then poked with tiny holes to be strung together), bark paintings from the mid-twentieth century which visualise the similar historic exploration of Indigenous Australians, and Totemi Poles from the Tiwi Islands. Nici explained that these poles had been sitting in storage but could now finally be viewed and appreciated. When a person dies another person is selected to make the poles, although they don't generally end up representing the deceased individual's personal designs as the artist doesn't want the pole to be recognised as the deceased's body by the spirit leaving. The final pole can then be rejected by the family if it is unsuitable. I was really glad Nici explained all this to us as it increased my appreciation for the reasoning behind their form and design. I sometimes find it difficult to understand things without learning the story behind them, so to have everything explained made me grateful for the experience.

I think my favourite part of the tour was right at the end when Nici took us into the Big Country Display, which unfortunately is only the walls surrounding the western stairwell, but which I realised hosts paintings by all three of the artists I am studying for our final Indigenous Art essay. Within the display was Clifford Possum Tjalpatjarri's 1972 work Honey Ant Ceremony, Rover Thomas' 1991 painting Paruku (Lake Gregory) and Emily Kame Kngwatteye's 1994 series Awelye I-V. All of these artists are now favourites of mine for their use of form, colour and narrative. I think each of these works is not only visually stunning, but filled with content.

One of my favourite works I saw apart from that of these artists was Jonathan Kumintjara Brown's Poison Country, a moving painting which draws to attention the persecution and massacre of Indigenous Australians by white Australians and more specifically the act of nuclear testing in sacred Indigenous country and homes throughout recent history. The painting appears like what could be considered a "traditional" painting in a superficial western understanding linking Indigenous art to the iconography of Central and Western Desert style paintings, but which has been wiped over with paint to marr, obstruct and destroy the image. This is both a symbolic and literal act of violence to link to this bloody past, which ended the tour on a spine-tingling reflective note. I simply loved listening to Nici, being someone who is both incredibly passionate and knowledgeable about her field of art, which I find inspiring in a person any day.

Week 10: Warwick Thornton in conversation with Margaret Pomeranz

Margaret Pomeranz and Warwick Thornton

Last week I was incredibly privileged to be able to see Margaret Pomeranz in conversation with director Warwick Thornton. I was very excited to see the duo because I am a fan of both Margaret's ABC program At The Movies with David Stratton, and of Warwick's film Sampson and Delilah. In real life, both were very engaging and entertaining, and I felt inspired to reach a standard of excellence in my own practice that both exemplify.

As a visual arts student, one of the things I found most interesting that Margaret and Warwick discussed was the craft of filmmaking. I was not aware that Warwick began his career as a camera man, and has continued to use his technical skills to write, shoot AND direct many of his films. It was fascinating to hear Warwick discuss the merits of film versus digital and that he laments the loss of analogue processes, because similarly I love to use slow construction methods. When I watched Sampson and Delilah a few years ago I thought it was one of the most beautifully poignant films I had ever seen, and to learn about the creative energy that went into such a feat of storytelling encourages me with my own endeavours. I love art that has a narrative, so film is especially inspiring for me, but to know the preparation which goes into something so seemingly effortless makes me feel better about something which I similarly develop over time in my own paintings.The point Warwick stressed the most was that you can survive with some luck and talent in the creative realm, but majorly you need to work at it, practice and absorb inspiration from others in your field.

I also loved hearing them discuss that sometimes one idea does not fit the medium you have in mind for it. For instance, in Warwick's case, not every story should be made into a feature length film - sometimes it should belongs as a short film or even an art installation. I think this is applicable to all the ideas we have as artists and emphasises that we need to experiment to discover what manifestation our creative thoughts will take. It was great to hear that even a fantastic director like Warwick has bad ideas sometimes, so we also must have the strength to abandon ideas. One of the final points Warwick made was that failure is a state of mind. Films that one person hates, another loves, so as long as you are proud of your own work and that it is something you yourself would pay to see, you can have success. If one is truthful and does things properly, then you can tell any story, and, further, seeing Margaret and Warwick has even inspired me to push on from painting and work with the medium of moving images!