In this painting Dorothy has painted two emus and their chicks eating quandongs or native peach (red dots) from the quandong tree. The birds in the sky have quandongs in their beaks as they also enjoy eating the fruit. Quandongs were a traditionally a significant food source for Yarnangu in the Ngaanyatjarra Lands.
‘Kungkarrangkalpa’ (The Seven Sisters or Pleaides) is significant Tjukurrpa (dreamtime). Its origins you may be familiar with in astronomy and its connection to ‘Wati Nyiru’ (Magic Man or Orion). The roots of this dreaming stems across indigenous groups around the world. The Australian Aboriginal songline is one part to the whole dreaming which can be traced all around the world. The ladies of the Ngaanyatjarra Lands depict their significant chapter and understanding of the journey of the sisters. The different versions of this story depend on where you live and the significance’s of local Tjukurrpa places.
Nyiru fell in love with the sisters but he was of the wrong skin group to marry, but he still pursued them on their journey. The sisters travel across the land to escape Nyiru’s unwanted attentions, but he is persistent and always finds them. There are significant land forms which can be sited today that evidence this dreaming. As Nyiru is chasing the sisters he tries to catch them by using magic to turn into the most tempting kampurarrpa (bush tomato) and the most beautiful Yirli (wild fig tree), for them to eat and camp under. However, the sisters are knowledgeable of his magic and too clever for Nyiru who they outwit again and again. They go hungry and run through the night rather than be caught by him. As the journey continues, Nyiru gets so frustrated at the wit of the sisters that he uses his magic to make the oldest sister sick to try and get closer to her. The other sisters rescue the big sister and nurse her back to health. It is said he also captures the youngest sister, but with the help of the oldest sister, she escapes back to her sisters who are waiting for her. Eventually, the sisters fly into the sky to escape Nyiru, forming the constellation. Nyiru felt lonely, longing for the sisters who were so far away. Nyiru used his magic to go to the sky, forever in pursuit.
This painting is part of the Djang’kawu sisters Creation Story. The details of this story can vary according to clan and/or country, but the central story is the same, which is one of fertility and procreation.
The Djang’kawu sisters gave birth to all the Dhuwa Moeity clans giving them language, land, law/lore, ceremony, songs and dances. As they travelled westward from Yirrkala, they travelled through all the dhuwa lands naming all the plants and animals and showed people how to use them. At the Glyde River, they hung their sacred dilly bags on a tree whilst they hunted. Men came and took the dilly bags and learnt all the songs and dnaces. Now the men condiuct all the ceremonies. The sisters decided to accept this as they (women) always retain their power as the bearer of children.
This painting is part of this story, it is a saltwater story featuring mud crabs, longbums and a water lizard and a drinking hole.
Yvonne has painted her favourite hunting country after rain. “This is when the storm ants come and make the goannas nice and fat, the ground is soft for digging honey ants and it’s when the bush foods and grasses come up and grow strong. The country is normally bare with small stones and rocks everywhere, but after rain, everything comes alive.”
Yvonne is a tremendous hunter, she is skilled in reading tracks and reading the land. Painting hunting country is important and special to her.
The community of Ampilatwatja made a conscious decision not to paint ‘altyerr’(dreaming stories). The artists paint their country where those stories sit.
I paint the country of my Father and Mother and where they grew up, near Barrow Creek.
This is the painting of my Father’s country, where I grew up. When we would go hunting, we always climbed those hills. We would take the kids hunting too and take photos of the hills.
I use bright colours and beautiful attention to detail expresses the love and joy that I have for the country closest to my heart.
The community of Ampilatwatja made a conscious decision not to paint altyerr (dreaming stories). The artists paint their country where those stories sit.
JB paints stories from his Dhuwa homeland in northeast Arnhem Land. Stories are passed on either paternally or maternally, and JB would have learnt these stories from his ancestors. The cross-hatching style is a traditional painting style of this area and can represent elements such as water, air and wind.
JB’s paintings often feature totemic animals of the fresh waters of north east Arnhem Land.
Baru (the crocodile man), was from the Gumatj clan. People usually call him Gurdu Gurdu or Baru which means crocodile. He lived his life at a place called Yirrkala. Living near him were other people, and when Baru didn’t have enough to eat he began to kill and eat these other people. After a while others noticed that some people were missing. When Baru went to the toilet, the people could smell this strong smell, so they knew that he ate the other people. Some men went to get help and they took message sticks to the other tribes. Some were sending smoke signals. When they came to Baru’s camp they started to spear him in the left side of his ribs. He dropped into the fire and burnt his left hand and maybe his right hand. He then ran into the bush and yelled to his countrymen – the animals, birds and fish that live on the land and in the sea. He stopped and he named the tribes and clans and also the places until he came to a place called Gamarru/Guyurru. There he took a rest and said to himself “This is where I stop and call this place Gamarru/Guyurru”. Baru, still in pain from the fire, then jumped into the water and turned himself into a crocodile. The fire left scars on his back. Baru paintings belong to Gumatj and Warrawarra and also the Marpi clan. This painting is used at death ceremonies or initiations and it normally is painted on the belly, which means the person the design is painted on is part of Gurdu Gurdu (the crocodile people).
I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.
I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.
I wanted the colours of this painting to be full of magic and femininity. Circles of women, laughter spilling into the air like music. The table is loaded. There’s bickies and dips, Jatz cake and cream, platters of fruit. Cups full in more ways than one. The goss flows like tea. Big witchy cackles that echo across the land, healing us in ways no doctor ever could. Sharing stories about who “got sick n died”, “remember when?” and “he better look out next time I see him” By nights end, we’re sprawled out on couches, bloated like poisoned pups and our spirits brighter than ever. This piece: is a celebration of us, our women, our mothers, grandmothers, sisters – our strength, our stories, our love. “yeah the girls,” we say, raising our cups of tea in a cheeky toast.