Bridge Crossing at Point Samson
A fishing spot for the locals.
“Grandfather’s Country, not far from Well 33, called Nganjirr. Not far, [you] can go up by car. Go camping there. When it rains, fills up, then is dry.
Two Countries – Nganjirr and Kun Kun (Kuny-Kuny), Marlene’s Country. [You] can just go out for the day- lovely and quiet. Go hunting and get some jinyjwirrily (wild gooseberry, or desert raisins)”
– Kara Patch
Nganjirr and Kun Kun are both significant parts of Kara’s ‘ngurra’ (home Country, camp). Nganjirr, a grouping of three rockholes just south of Kil-kil (Canning Stock Route Well 36), is an importaint place for the Patch family through two brothers, Nganjirrmarta and Wirrulypa. A large marntila/tarntulu (Acacia pruinocarpa) sitting on rocky outcrop close to Nganjirr is used to locate the rockholes.
Kun Kun (Kuny-kuny) is a soak accessing a large body of underground water, located southeast of Kunawarritji (Canning Stock Route Well 33). The site is sacred for its association with the marlu (kangaroo) Jukurrpa (Dreaming), and was an important ceremonial site during the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) period. Soaks, or soakwaters, derive their name from the manner in which their waters generally seep into the sand from below stores, sometimes as part of an ephemeral river or creek. Soaks were an especially important source of water during the pujiman era, being the most dependable water source in times of drought. Water was obtained from soaks by scooping away the sand with a piti (timber bowls used for carrying food and water) until clear water gathered at the base of the hole, sometimes at a depth of several metres.
In the Pujiman time, 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. Knowledge of water sources was critical for survival, and today Martu Country is still defined in terms of the location and type of water. Each of the hundreds of claypans, rockholes, waterholes, soaks and springs found in the Martu desert homelands is known by name, location, quality and seasonal availability through real life experience and the recounting of Jukurrpa narratives.
“The shapes represent the family groups from different regions.
It’s been really good, reconnecting with family and getting to know which family member is who. Getting to know my uncles, telling me about my mum that has passed away. Hearing about the stories and about my grandmother as well. Her stories, yeah, uncle Matthew tells us stories about my family. It’s nice to know where you come from, especially coming back home and connecting back to family.”
– Kerri- Anne Wilson
In the heart of central Western Australia, the Martu people are the traditional owners of a vast landscape stretching from the Great Sandy Desert in the north to Wiluna in the south. Across this Country, their lives are bound by a common ancestral heritage, law, and culture. To one another, they are walytja (family).
Walytja
The Martu term for family, walytja, encapsulates a broader idea of relatedness that permeates every aspect of life. The Martu four-section kinship system determines a person as belonging to either the Purungu, Milangka, Panaka or Karrimarra skin group, and was created by the Jukurrpa (Dreaming) ancestors.
This system not only defines relationships, it also establishes a framework for expectations and obligations, and extends the importance of family far beyond mere blood or marriage ties. Family is not limited to blood connections; it encompasses all relationships within the entire community, forming a network of relationships that was crucial to survival during the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) era, and that remains fundamental to Martu life today. The kinship system allows everyone to know what expectations one person can have in relation to another, and means that familial terms and relationships are present between any two individuals, whether or not they are related by blood.
Martumili Artists work with over three hundred artists from remote Martu Aboriginal communities, including Punmu, Parnngurr, Kunawarritji, Jigalong, Irrungadji (Nullagine), and Warralong, as well as from the Parnpajinya (Newman) gallery and studio spaces. Known for their diverse, energetic, and unmediated painting styles, their works reflect the dramatic geography and scale of their homelands. Each artist, however, brings a unique approach to their craft.
Younger Martu artists often start painting alongside their parents, grandparents, and extended family, which fosters an organic learning process. This not only involves mastering painting techniques but also understanding specific locations, family histories, traditional ways of life, bush tucker, and Jukurrpa (Dreaming). Over time, with encouragement from their peers, they develop their own distinct styles and explore unique painting techniques and subject matter. In this work the artist brings a contemporary, evolving perspective to their work.
This site forms part of Blake Wilberforce’s ngurra (home Country, camp). People identify with their ngurra in terms of specific rights and responsibilities, and the possession of intimate knowledge of the physical and cultural properties of one’s Country. Painting ngurra, and in so doing sharing the Jukurrpa (Dreaming) stories and physical characteristics of that place, has today become an important means of cultural maintenance.
Blake enjoys painting at night to relax before bed and is family to fellow Martumili Artists Jason Tinker (dec.) and Peter Tinker Pija. As a young child, Blake travelled all the way from Kalgoorlie to Irrungadji, and remembers going gold detecting in the early morning with family before the heat set in.
Younger Martu artists often start painting alongside their parents, grandparents, and extended family, which fosters an organic learning process. This not only involves mastering painting techniques but also understanding specific locations, family histories, traditional ways of life, bush tucker, and Jukurrpa (Dreaming). Over time, with encouragement from their peers, they develop their own distinct styles and explore unique painting techniques and subject matter. In this work Blake brings a contemporary, evolving perspective to their work.
“This one here. Yeah. That’s Jigalong. I’ve been there. I was working there. That’s good, this one here. Stories, yeah? This one here. I was painting in Jigalong. This one’s the cars. The cars. And the houses in Jigalong. And then the sandhills, lakes. That’s the lake [points to top right-hand corner]. The lake here and the green trees, and the sandhills. We going out working, you know? We going out working to Jigalong. All the ladies, we go out. All the ladies. Yeah that’s the one, all the ladies. We work choppers. Yeah I’ve been there in Jigalong with my mum and dad long time. And the cars. We go out in that. We go out working. We just work around Jigalong, the ladies.”
– Helen Dale Samson
Jigalong Aboriginal Community, the largest of the Martu communities, is located on the western edge of the Little Sandy Desert, not far from the town of Newman. Jigalong was established in 1907 as the site for a maintenance and rations store for workmen constructing the Rabbit Proof Fence, and converted to a camel breeding site in the 1930’s before finally becoming a Christian mission under the Apostolic Church in 1947. The land was returned to the Martu in 1974.
For many Martu, Jigalong Mission was the site where their pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) lifestyle came to an end from the late 1940s as they transitioned to a life as stockmen and women working in cattle stations in the Pilbara region and beyond. In the wake of the extreme and prolonged drought of the 1960s, the last of the remaining pujimanpa (desert dwellers) were forced to move to missions like Jigalong, where a supply of food and water was assured. There, many Martu were reunited with family members that had already moved in from the desert.
Old Jigalong is where the camp on Jigalong Station was situated before the present Community was built. Dale grew up here, but would frequently camp with her family on Country during weekends. Helen Dale continues to live in Jigalong today.
“Wanti Yuu (Woman Yeah!) is a story of resilience and of women coming together. It is about the strength of the women in our community who put themselves last and take on a lot. She [Wanti Yuu] is someone who looks after her family, putting the grand kids and everyone around her first. The word Matriarch comes to mind. They are the matriarch of the family. The Boss Lady. Always helping everyone else out and leaving herself to the end. She paints, she teaches us her knowledge, like basket weaving and honey ant collecting. She is the top lore woman and her story of Pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) is so important. She is a leader of the Martu women and a senior artist. That’s all I can say about these women. These women; you give her the bread if you know what I mean. It’s a true story. Anything in my pockets. Because when you look at her, her stance, her energy and her vibe, you can feel it. You don’t muck around with Wanti Yuu.”
-Silvia Wilson
Wanti Yuu celebrates women’s resilience, matriarchal relationships, and Sylvia’s place in this story.
As Sylvia explains, the work is both a depiction of, and attribute to, the women in her life. “I follow my great grandmother’s guidance and direction in life. These women in my life carry so much on their shoulders, as well as the responsibility and future of our culture.”
“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.
“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.
“This is my grandmother’s and mother’s Country, Yalta. It’s very close to Kunawarritji side. I’ve never been there. That was where my mother was born during the pujiman (traditional, desert dwelling) times. All the tali (sandhills) around. I want to go there one day, to see that Country, I might go there one day”
– Marianne Burton
Yalta is a waterhole located between the Great Sandy Desert’s Percival Lakes region and Kunawarritji Aboriginal community. This site was visited by the Ngayurnangalku (cannibals) during the Jukurrpa (Dreaming). These fearsome ancestral cannibal beings are said to resemble people in their appearance, except for their fangs and long curved knife like fingernails they use to catch and hold their human victims. The Ngayurnangalku continue to live beneath the crust of Kumpupirntily (Kumpupintily, Lake Disappointment), south east of Yalta.
Yalta lies within Marianne’s ngurra (home Country, camp) through her grandmother and mother. As stated by Marianne here, the site is especially significant to her as it was here that her mother was born. The Western Desert term ‘ngurra’ is hugely versatile in application. Broadly denoting birthplace and belonging, ngurra can refer to a body of water, a camp site, a large area of Country, or even a modern house. People identify with their ngurra in terms of specific rights and responsibilities, and the possession of intimate knowledge of the physical and cultural properties of one’s Country. This knowledge is traditionally passed intergenerationally through family connections. Painting ngurra, and in so doing sharing the Jukurrpa stories and physical characteristics of that place, has today become an important means of cultural maintenance. Physical maintenance of one’s ngurra, like cultural maintenance, ensures a site’s wellbeing, and is a responsibility of the people belonging to that area.