July 2023

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.

Two Geckos

“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.

Jigalong Lakes

“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.

Two Worlds

“This painting is about my experience being a Martu woman, in the body of a Martu, but I was brought up different. Growing up in a whitefella way. If I wasn’t adopted, what would I be? There’s so many words- adoption, fostered, taken… but I wasn’t taken. My mum just wanted the best life for me. I got educated. Walking in two worlds, being black and white. When you actually walk it, it’s a different feeling. It’s daunting. You don’t get a handbook of how to be Martu when you come back to Country. Identity is a big issue. I’ve always just been me- but then I learned more about how Martu culture is so strong. 

I try to stay grounded, and at the same time keep educating myself. I’m learning every day.”

 – Sylvia Wilson

Hamersley Range

This work portrays an area known to the artist, painted here from memory. During the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) era 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), and different varieties of warta (trees, vegetation) were carefully observed and remembered. Today, this relationship with Country remains equally strong, despite the movement of Martu out of the desert and into remote Aboriginal communities, towns and cities.

Also visible may be traces of life cycles based around kalyu (rain, water) and waru (fire). 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 visible 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. 

Wantili (Warntili, Canning Stock Route Well 25)

“Wantili (Warntili, Canning Stock Route Well 25) area, close to Parnngurr. My ngurra (home Country, camp), my jamu’s (grandfather’s) Country, my father’s daddy, Jakayu [Biljabu’s] daddy and my daddy’s Country. Jakayu been bury her father there. In pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) days, my family and Jakayu’s family been walking round there together. Big sandhills here. Sandhill, sandhill, sandhill everywhere. Claypan there, in the middle. Good place for swimming and drinking, for hunting little kangaroo. When no water [we would] go to [the adjacent Canning Stock Route] well. When there [was] rain we stay there at Wantili. Everywhere, we been walking everywhere.       

Near to Wantili, road [Canning Stock Route] going kayili (north). Long time [ago] only horses and cattle [travelled along that road], going Meekatharra and back in the cold time, gone right up to GJ (Georgia) Bore. Half way, when he see water at Wantili, that mob would camp one night, bullock eating all the grass and men’s drinking water. One Martu been working with that mob, droving bullock. Every time he been give us meat, all the pujimanpa (desert dwellers).”

– Ngamaru Bidu

Wantili is a large round jurnu (soak) and linyji (claypan) near Well 25 on the Canning Stock Route. The Wantili region is dominated by claypans surrounded by tuwa (sandhills), and Nyilangkurr, a prominent yapu (hill) is located close to the eastern edge of the claypan. 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, Putijarra and Warnman people would all come together for ceremonies during the pujiman era. Many jiwa (stones used by women for grinding seeds) from these times, including those used by Ngamaru’s family, can still be found there today.

Wantili lies within Ngamaru’s ngurra (home Country, camp) through her grandfather and father. As described in her account, Wantili was one of the sites Ngamaru knew intimately and travelled extensively with her family and other family groups, such as the Biljabu family. During the pujiman period Martu would traverse very large distances annually, moving seasonally from water source to water source, and hunting and gathering bush tucker as they went. Knowledge of water sources was critical for survival, and today Martu Country is still defined in terms of the location and type of water. 

As Ngamaru recounts, Wantili also held significance for her as a site of contact between her family and kartiya (white people); drovers with their cattle travelling along the Canning Stock Route. The establishment of the route by Alfred Canning and his team in 1910 resulted in first contact with Europeans for many Martu, including Ngamaru and her family. Increasingly, Martu followed the route to newly established ration depots, mission and pastoral stations. They were drawn to the route in search of food, by a sense of curiosity, or by loneliness. By the late 1950s and early 1960s, most of the desert family groups had left the desert. Eventually, these factors combined with an extreme and prolonged drought in the 1960s to prompt the few remaining pujimanpa to move in from the desert. 

Culturally, Wantili is an incredibly important site in two central Jukurrpa (Dreaming) stories. The first relates to the world’s creation. In this narrative, the world was initially dark, and people were like rocks, with no arms or legs. Following the sun’s first rising, life-forms become increasingly complex while particular features in the land are created. Beyond these details much of the narrative is ngurlu (sacred, taboo), and only 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 (Jakulyukulyu, Seven Sisters) Jukurrpa story. Minyipuru is a central Jukurrpa narrative for Martu, Ngaanyatjarra, Pitjantjatjara and Yankunytjatjara people that is associated with the seasonal Pleiades star constellation. Relayed in song, dance, stories and paintings, Minyipuru serves as a creation narrative, a source of information relating to the physical properties of the land, and an embodiment of Aboriginal cultural laws. 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, such as groupings of rocks and trees, grinding stones and seeds. The sisters rested at Wantili before throwing seeds, then continued their journey far to the east and beyond Martu Country, stopping at various sites through central and South Australia.

Two Worlds

“This painting is about my experience being a Martu woman, in the body of a Martu, but I was brought up different. Growing up in a whitefella way. If I wasn’t adopted, what would I be? There’s so many words- adoption, fostered, taken… but I wasn’t taken. My mum just wanted the best life for me. I got educated. Walking in two worlds, being black and white. When you actually walk it, it’s a different feeling. It’s daunting. You don’t get a handbook of how to be Martu when you come back to Country. Identity is a big issue. I’ve always just been me- but then I learned more about how Martu culture is so strong. 

I try to stay grounded, and at the same time keep educating myself. I’m learning every day.”

 – Sylvia Wilson

Wanti business

How did you get to this style of painting?

“Do you mean, what have I done with my life? (chuckles to herself) To me these paintings are a sense of energy. So if I see someone and they’re happy, I paint a happy vibe. Cos their spirit is happy. And sometimes it’s hard because on the outside they’re real happy but on the inside they’re real sad. Sometimes you do stuff (like a painting) and it adds up later on. But I still don’t know what it means and don’t know where my style comes from because it’s both the path I walk on and the cracks in the dirt. It’s like looking at a landscape but I haven’t been there yet. Maybe I’ll get there one day. I believe things happen for a reason.”

– Sylvia Wilson

Two Worlds

“This painting is about my experience being a Martu woman, in the body of a Martu, but I was brought up different. Growing up in a whitefella way. If I wasn’t adopted, what would I be? There’s so many words- adoption, fostered, taken… but I wasn’t taken. My mum just wanted the best life for me. I got educated. Walking in two worlds, being black and white. When you actually walk it, it’s a different feeling. It’s daunting. You don’t get a handbook of how to be Martu when you come back to Country. Identity is a big issue. I’ve always just been me- but then I learned more about how Martu culture is so strong. 

I try to stay grounded, and at the same time keep educating myself. I’m learning every day.”

 – Sylvia Wilson