111581652877



Untitled

“When Martu paint, it’s like a map. Martu draw story on the ground and on the canvas, and all the circle and line there are the hunting areas and different waters and tracks where people used to walk, and [some you] can’t cross, like boundaries. So nowadays you see a colourful painting and wonder what it is, but that’s how Martu tell story long ago. It’s not just a lovely painting, it’s a story and a songline and a history and everything that goes with it.” 

– Ngalangka Nola Taylor and Joshua Booth

This work portrays an area of Country that can be interpreted in multiple ways. Firstly, the image may be read as an aerial representation of a particular location known to the artist- either land that they or their family travelled, from the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) era to now. During the pujiman period, Martu would traverse very large distances annually in small family groups, moving seasonally from water source to water source, and hunting and gathering bush tucker as they went. At this time, one’s survival depended on their intimate knowledge of the location of resources; thus physical elements of Country, such as sources of kapi (water), tali (sandhills), different varieties of warta (trees, vegetation), ngarrini (camps), and jina (tracks) are typically recorded with the use of a use of a system of iconographic forms universally shared across the desert. 

An additional layer of meaning in the work relates to more intangible concepts; life cycles based around kalyu (rain, water) and waru (fire) are also often evident. A thousands of year old practice, fire burning continues to be carried out as both an aid for hunting and a means of land management today. As the Martu travelled and hunted they would burn tracts of land, ensuring plant and animal biodiversity and reducing the risk of unmanageable, spontaneous bush fires. The patchwork nature of regrowth is evident in many landscape works, with each of the five distinctive phases of fire burning visually described with respect to the cycle of burning and regrowth.  

Finally, metaphysical information relating to a location may also be recorded; jukurrpa (dreaming) narratives chronicle the creation of physical landmarks, and can be referenced through depictions of ceremonial sites, songlines, and markers left in the land. Very often, however, information relating to jukurrpa is censored by omission, or alternatively painted over with dotted patterns.

111581652875



Untitled

“When Martu paint, it’s like a map. Martu draw story on the ground and on the canvas, and all the circle and line there are the hunting areas and different waters and tracks where people used to walk, and [some you] can’t cross, like boundaries. So nowadays you see a colourful painting and wonder what it is, but that’s how Martu tell story long ago. It’s not just a lovely painting, it’s a story and a songline and a history and everything that goes with it.” 

– Ngalangka Nola Taylor and Joshua Booth

This work portrays an area of Country that can be interpreted in multiple ways. Firstly, the image may be read as an aerial representation of a particular location known to the artist- either land that they or their family travelled, from the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) era to now. During the pujiman period, Martu would traverse very large distances annually in small family groups, moving seasonally from water source to water source, and hunting and gathering bush tucker as they went. At this time, one’s survival depended on their intimate knowledge of the location of resources; thus physical elements of Country, such as sources of kapi (water), tali (sandhills), different varieties of warta (trees, vegetation), ngarrini (camps), and jina (tracks) are typically recorded with the use of a use of a system of iconographic forms universally shared across the desert. 

An additional layer of meaning in the work relates to more intangible concepts; life cycles based around kalyu (rain, water) and waru (fire) are also often evident. A thousands of year old practice, fire burning continues to be carried out as both an aid for hunting and a means of land management today. As the Martu travelled and hunted they would burn tracts of land, ensuring plant and animal biodiversity and reducing the risk of unmanageable, spontaneous bush fires. The patchwork nature of regrowth is evident in many landscape works, with each of the five distinctive phases of fire burning visually described with respect to the cycle of burning and regrowth.  

Finally, metaphysical information relating to a location may also be recorded; jukurrpa (dreaming) narratives chronicle the creation of physical landmarks, and can be referenced through depictions of ceremonial sites, songlines, and markers left in the land. Very often, however, information relating to jukurrpa is censored by omission, or alternatively painted over with dotted patterns.

111581652863



Untitled

“When Martu paint, it’s like a map. Martu draw story on the ground and on the canvas, and all the circle and line there are the hunting areas and different waters and tracks where people used to walk, and [some you] can’t cross, like boundaries. So nowadays you see a colourful painting and wonder what it is, but that’s how Martu tell story long ago. It’s not just a lovely painting, it’s a story and a songline and a history and everything that goes with it.” 

– Ngalangka Nola Taylor and Joshua Booth

This work portrays an area of Country that can be interpreted in multiple ways. Firstly, the image may be read as an aerial representation of a particular location known to the artist- either land that they or their family travelled, from the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) era to now. During the pujiman period, Martu would traverse very large distances annually in small family groups, moving seasonally from water source to water source, and hunting and gathering bush tucker as they went. At this time, one’s survival depended on their intimate knowledge of the location of resources; thus physical elements of Country, such as sources of kapi (water), tali (sandhills), different varieties of warta (trees, vegetation), ngarrini (camps), and jina (tracks) are typically recorded with the use of a use of a system of iconographic forms universally shared across the desert. 

An additional layer of meaning in the work relates to more intangible concepts; life cycles based around kalyu (rain, water) and waru (fire) are also often evident. A thousands of year old practice, fire burning continues to be carried out as both an aid for hunting and a means of land management today. As the Martu travelled and hunted they would burn tracts of land, ensuring plant and animal biodiversity and reducing the risk of unmanageable, spontaneous bush fires. The patchwork nature of regrowth is evident in many landscape works, with each of the five distinctive phases of fire burning visually described with respect to the cycle of burning and regrowth.  

Finally, metaphysical information relating to a location may also be recorded; jukurrpa (dreaming) narratives chronicle the creation of physical landmarks, and can be referenced through depictions of ceremonial sites, songlines, and markers left in the land. Very often, however, information relating to jukurrpa is censored by omission, or alternatively painted over with dotted patterns.

111581653368



Wantili

Wantili, which forms the focus of much of Bugai’s work, is a large round jurnu (soak) and lyinji (claypan) near Well 25 on the Canning Stock Route. It lies close to Bugai’s birthplace, and is her ngurra (home country). The area is dominated by claypans surrounded by tuwa (sandhills). Following rain the typically dry claypans are filled with water, with the overflow from nearby waterholes flowing to Wantili. At that time, Wantili becomes an important place for obtaining fresh water for drinking and bathing. Wantili is significant for the fact that at this site Kartujarra, Manyjilyjarra, Putujarra and Warnman people would all come together for ceremonies. Manyjiwa (stones used by women for grinding seeds) from these times can still be found there today.

(As translated by Bugai’s grandson, Cyril Whyoulter) “Bugai always tells about Wantili because she grew up around Wantili. Her family would travel between Wantili, Kaalpa, Juntujuntu, Raarki, and Wuranu Wells along the Canning Stock Route. She paints around Wantili. She saw whitefellas there for the first time, Canning mob when they were travelling up and down the stock route with the bullock. She was a young girl walking around at Wantili. Big mob of people they been walking around there. Canning and his drovers were travelling, making the road. They were running away from those whitefellas, watching them from a long distance. She was a teenager when she was travelling around there with her four mothers and one daddy. They used to travel around in family groups, Bugai and Jakayu [Biljabu], and Jakayu’s nyupa (partner) Phillip Biljabu.” Bugai returned to the Wantili area as a young woman, when she worked driving cattle along the Stock Route.

Wantili is an incredibly important cultural site, ‘‘where the creation started.’ The jukurrpa (dreamtime narrative) related to the creation at Wantili are just for Martu, but the site is open and anyone can go there. Wantili is also one of the many sites featured in the epic Minyipuru (Seven Sisters) jukurrpa. The story follows the movement of a group of women travelling all the way across the desert, beginning at Roebourne on the coast of Western Australia, as they are pursued by Yurla, a lustful old man. As the women travelled they stopped to rest at many sites to eat, dance, rest and sing, on the way leaving behind an assortment of articles that became formations in the land. The sisters rested at Wantili before throwing seeds, then continued their journey on to Tiwa, Juntujuntu, and then Pangkapini, where they finally escaped Yurla by flying into the sky to become the Pleaides constellation of stars.

111581653329



Untitled

“When Martu paint, it’s like a map. Martu draw story on the ground and on the canvas, and all the circle and line there are the hunting areas and different waters and tracks where people used to walk, and [some you] can’t cross, like boundaries. So nowadays you see a colourful painting and wonder what it is, but that’s how Martu tell story long ago. It’s not just a lovely painting, it’s a story and a songline and a history and everything that goes with it.” 

– Ngalangka Nola Taylor and Joshua Booth

This work portrays an area of Country that can be interpreted in multiple ways. Firstly, the image may be read as an aerial representation of a particular location known to the artist- either land that they or their family travelled, from the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) era to now. During the pujiman period, Martu would traverse very large distances annually in small family groups, moving seasonally from water source to water source, and hunting and gathering bush tucker as they went. At this time, one’s survival depended on their intimate knowledge of the location of resources; thus physical elements of Country, such as sources of kapi (water), tali (sandhills), different varieties of warta (trees, vegetation), ngarrini (camps), and jina (tracks) are typically recorded with the use of a use of a system of iconographic forms universally shared across the desert. 

An additional layer of meaning in the work relates to more intangible concepts; life cycles based around kalyu (rain, water) and waru (fire) are also often evident. A thousands of year old practice, fire burning continues to be carried out as both an aid for hunting and a means of land management today. As the Martu travelled and hunted they would burn tracts of land, ensuring plant and animal biodiversity and reducing the risk of unmanageable, spontaneous bush fires. The patchwork nature of regrowth is evident in many landscape works, with each of the five distinctive phases of fire burning visually described with respect to the cycle of burning and regrowth.  

Finally, metaphysical information relating to a location may also be recorded; jukurrpa (dreaming) narratives chronicle the creation of physical landmarks, and can be referenced through depictions of ceremonial sites, songlines, and markers left in the land. Very often, however, information relating to jukurrpa is censored by omission, or alternatively painted over with dotted patterns.

111581653699



Untitled

“When Martu paint, it’s like a map. Martu draw story on the ground and on the canvas, and all the circle and line there are the hunting areas and different waters and tracks where people used to walk, and [some you] can’t cross, like boundaries. So nowadays you see a colourful painting and wonder what it is, but that’s how Martu tell story long ago. It’s not just a lovely painting, it’s a story and a songline and a history and everything that goes with it.” 

– Ngalangka Nola Taylor and Joshua Booth

This work portrays an area of Country that can be interpreted in multiple ways. Firstly, the image may be read as an aerial representation of a particular location known to the artist- either land that they or their family travelled, from the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) era to now. During the pujiman period, Martu would traverse very large distances annually in small family groups, moving seasonally from water source to water source, and hunting and gathering bush tucker as they went. At this time, one’s survival depended on their intimate knowledge of the location of resources; thus physical elements of Country, such as sources of kapi (water), tali (sandhills), different varieties of warta (trees, vegetation), ngarrini (camps), and jina (tracks) are typically recorded with the use of a use of a system of iconographic forms universally shared across the desert. 

An additional layer of meaning in the work relates to more intangible concepts; life cycles based around kalyu (rain, water) and waru (fire) are also often evident. A thousands of year old practice, fire burning continues to be carried out as both an aid for hunting and a means of land management today. As the Martu travelled and hunted they would burn tracts of land, ensuring plant and animal biodiversity and reducing the risk of unmanageable, spontaneous bush fires. The patchwork nature of regrowth is evident in many landscape works, with each of the five distinctive phases of fire burning visually described with respect to the cycle of burning and regrowth.  

Finally, metaphysical information relating to a location may also be recorded; jukurrpa (dreaming) narratives chronicle the creation of physical landmarks, and can be referenced through depictions of ceremonial sites, songlines, and markers left in the land. Very often, however, information relating to jukurrpa is censored by omission, or alternatively painted over with dotted patterns.

111981653949



Wak Wak

This painting depicts a sacred site at ‘Kurrurldul’, an outstation south of Maningrida.

The ‘rarrk’, or abstract crosshatching, on this work represents the design for the crow totem ancestor called ‘Djimarr’. Today this being exists in the form of a rock, which is permanently submerged at the bottom of Kurrurldul Creek. The ‘Djimarr’ rock in the stream at Kurrurldul is said to move around and call out in a soft hooting tone at night. Both the stone itself and the area around it are considered sacred.

The imagery represents the rock mentioned above at the bottom of Kurrurldul creek, which is the final transmutation of the dreaming ancestor ‘Djimarr’. Finally, the pattern used here is also the crow design used in the sacred ‘Mardayin’ ceremony, which is a large regional patri-moiety ceremony now rarely conducted in central and eastern Arnhem Land.

111981653941



Mako (didjeridu)

Arnhem Land and the Top End of the Northern Territory is the traditional home of the didjeridu, a rhythmic wind instrument used by Aboriginal people of the region. Its use spread globally in part because the instrument was adopted by world music enthusiasts, and the profile of the instrument reached new heights through Aboriginal rock bands from Arnhem Land, such as Yothu Yindi. It’s an instrument that is now played around the world, in genres ranging from classical to hip hop.

The didjeridu has come to mean many different things to people who have a reason for playing it around the world. In Maningrida it remains primarily an instrument of song accompaniment used in public ceremony. The manner of playing provides an instant recognition to listeners of both language and regional stylistic affiliation. In the wake of the development of new non-Aboriginal ‘world’ styles of playing the instrument, Arnhem Land styles of playing take on new meaning as markers of the cultural and historical origins of the didjeridu.

All of the language groups of the Maningrida region have their own musical genres and song series in which the didjeridu is used as an instrument of accompaniment. Traditionally, it is primarily a secular instrument used in song genres that are performed for two main types of public ceremony: the music of diplomacy (exchange) ceremonies and of funerals and some mortuary rituals. The didjeridu is generally not used as a solo instrument and nor is it used in the most secret and sacred ceremonies still practiced in the western and central Arnhem Land region.

Aboriginal people living today in the rocky escarpment country of western Arnhem Land say that humans were first shown and taught to play the didjeridu by spirit beings who live among the dark caves and crevices of the stone country. These beings are known as mimih and are said to be tall and slender with necks so fragile they are easily snapped by the gentlest of breezes. Because of this, mimih live inside their own worlds within the rock. Mimih are credited with teaching Aboriginal people of the stone country about the foundations of stone country culture, including how to play the didjeridu. Many of the stone country language groups today describe their song and dance genres as mimih.

Researchers of Arnhem Land rock art have identified depictions of the didjeridu as belonging to the most recent phase of rock art, commencing around 1500 years ago.

Aboriginal names

Maningrida is a highly multilingual community and the linguistic diversity of western Arnhem Land is reflected in the various names used for the didjeridu. Here are the names for the instrument in the languages of the Maningrida region:

  • Ndjébbana (the language of the Kunibídji people) – ngalidjbinja
  • Kunwinjku, Kune, Kuninjku – mako [mago]
  • Rembarrnga – liddung, djalubbu
  • Burarra, Gun-nartpa – ngorla
  • Dangbon, Dalabon – morlo
  • Djinang, Wurlaki – wuyimbarl
  • Nakkara – ngunebobanja
  • Gurrgoni – mudburuja
  • Gundjeihmi (and also Kune) – morle

Process

The didjeridu-maker looks through bushland for a tree of the right species with the right diameter trunk. Most didjeridus in the Maningrida region are made from young trunks of the stringybark tree (Eucalyptus tetradonta) or the Darwin Woollybutt (Eucalyptus miniata).

The trunk needs to have been lived in and hollowed out by termites. To listen for hollowness, a tree with potential is stripped of a small patch of bark and the timber is tapped. The sound produced indicates the quality of the instrument the trunk will become. Having selected a good tree, the artist fells it and cleans out the hollow inside of the trunk, usually by ramming out any termite debris with a stick or pole. He strips all the bark off the outside, and smooths both ends. Traditionally, dark wax resin (cerumen or, in Kunwinjku and Rembarrnga languages, birdi) from native bees is applied to the mouthpiece. This substance sets hard but always becomes soft and pliable under pressure, enabling an airtight seal when playing.

Styles

In the Maningrida region, didjeridus are made to accompany songs in either of two styles: the bunggurl style of the language groups of eastern Arnhem Land (such as Bararra) or the kun-borrk style of language groups in the west of Arnhem Land (including Kunwinjku). People of central and south-western Arnhem Land whose country borders east and west (Rembarrnga and Kune), perform both styles.

Didjeridus of the region range in length from just under one metre to two metres. A less flared and longer didjeridu (1.5–2m) makes it easier to produce the characteristic hooted overblown tone that is used in bunggurl-style music. Longer didjeridus have a deeper tone than shorter didjeridus, and more resonance. To play them, you vibrate your lips at a lower frequency than you need to for a shorter didjeridu.

The decoration applied to the instrument can indicate its intended use. Rembarrnga artist Bob Burruwal often uses a design called bedjekbedjek. This is the same design used in body painting for the public diplomacy ceremonies of the Rembarrnga (and many other kun-borrk dance performances). Burruwal slaps wet white ochre over the surface of the instrument with his hands or with a bunch of leaves dipped in the ochre.

 

111981653935



Mako (didjeridu)

Arnhem Land and the Top End of the Northern Territory is the traditional home of the didjeridu, a rhythmic wind instrument used by Aboriginal people of the region. Its use spread globally in part because the instrument was adopted by world music enthusiasts, and the profile of the instrument reached new heights through Aboriginal rock bands from Arnhem Land, such as Yothu Yindi. It’s an instrument that is now played around the world, in genres ranging from classical to hip hop.

The didjeridu has come to mean many different things to people who have a reason for playing it around the world. In Maningrida it remains primarily an instrument of song accompaniment used in public ceremony. The manner of playing provides an instant recognition to listeners of both language and regional stylistic affiliation. In the wake of the development of new non-Aboriginal ‘world’ styles of playing the instrument, Arnhem Land styles of playing take on new meaning as markers of the cultural and historical origins of the didjeridu.

All of the language groups of the Maningrida region have their own musical genres and song series in which the didjeridu is used as an instrument of accompaniment. Traditionally, it is primarily a secular instrument used in song genres that are performed for two main types of public ceremony: the music of diplomacy (exchange) ceremonies and of funerals and some mortuary rituals. The didjeridu is generally not used as a solo instrument and nor is it used in the most secret and sacred ceremonies still practiced in the western and central Arnhem Land region.

Aboriginal people living today in the rocky escarpment country of western Arnhem Land say that humans were first shown and taught to play the didjeridu by spirit beings who live among the dark caves and crevices of the stone country. These beings are known as mimih and are said to be tall and slender with necks so fragile they are easily snapped by the gentlest of breezes. Because of this, mimih live inside their own worlds within the rock. Mimih are credited with teaching Aboriginal people of the stone country about the foundations of stone country culture, including how to play the didjeridu. Many of the stone country language groups today describe their song and dance genres as mimih.

Researchers of Arnhem Land rock art have identified depictions of the didjeridu as belonging to the most recent phase of rock art, commencing around 1500 years ago.

Aboriginal names

Maningrida is a highly multilingual community and the linguistic diversity of western Arnhem Land is reflected in the various names used for the didjeridu. Here are the names for the instrument in the languages of the Maningrida region:

  • Ndjébbana (the language of the Kunibídji people) – ngalidjbinja
  • Kunwinjku, Kune, Kuninjku – mako [mago]
  • Rembarrnga – liddung, djalubbu
  • Burarra, Gun-nartpa – ngorla
  • Dangbon, Dalabon – morlo
  • Djinang, Wurlaki – wuyimbarl
  • Nakkara – ngunebobanja
  • Gurrgoni – mudburuja
  • Gundjeihmi (and also Kune) – morle

Process

The didjeridu-maker looks through bushland for a tree of the right species with the right diameter trunk. Most didjeridus in the Maningrida region are made from young trunks of the stringybark tree (Eucalyptus tetradonta) or the Darwin Woollybutt (Eucalyptus miniata).

The trunk needs to have been lived in and hollowed out by termites. To listen for hollowness, a tree with potential is stripped of a small patch of bark and the timber is tapped. The sound produced indicates the quality of the instrument the trunk will become. Having selected a good tree, the artist fells it and cleans out the hollow inside of the trunk, usually by ramming out any termite debris with a stick or pole. He strips all the bark off the outside, and smooths both ends. Traditionally, dark wax resin (cerumen or, in Kunwinjku and Rembarrnga languages, birdi) from native bees is applied to the mouthpiece. This substance sets hard but always becomes soft and pliable under pressure, enabling an airtight seal when playing.

Styles

In the Maningrida region, didjeridus are made to accompany songs in either of two styles: the bunggurl style of the language groups of eastern Arnhem Land (such as Bararra) or the kun-borrk style of language groups in the west of Arnhem Land (including Kunwinjku). People of central and south-western Arnhem Land whose country borders east and west (Rembarrnga and Kune), perform both styles.

Didjeridus of the region range in length from just under one metre to two metres. A less flared and longer didjeridu (1.5–2m) makes it easier to produce the characteristic hooted overblown tone that is used in bunggurl-style music. Longer didjeridus have a deeper tone than shorter didjeridus, and more resonance. To play them, you vibrate your lips at a lower frequency than you need to for a shorter didjeridu.

The decoration applied to the instrument can indicate its intended use. Rembarrnga artist Bob Burruwal often uses a design called bedjekbedjek. This is the same design used in body painting for the public diplomacy ceremonies of the Rembarrnga (and many other kun-borrk dance performances). Burruwal slaps wet white ochre over the surface of the instrument with his hands or with a bunch of leaves dipped in the ochre.

 

111981653880



Namurrungkidj (Fish Stealing Spirit)

The Namurrungkidj is an evil natured spirit who goes out at night stealing from fish from rivers and billabongs.

It is believed that Namurrungkidj spirit also presides over Mankolod, ensuring that the large fresh-water crustaceans which inhabit the waterholes—known to the Kunwinjku as ngarl—remain plentiful.