Press and Editorial
How sacred, secret and transitory became permanent and public
4 March 2005Angela Bennie
» View How sacred, secret and transitory became permanent and public exhibition
In 2002, Western Desert artists Ted Egan Tjangala and Albie Moriss Tjampitjinpa flew to Paris under the patronage of the French artist and collector Arnaud Serval to execute a special ceremonial ?ground painting? to mark the opening of Wati, an exhibition of indeigenous art drawn from Arnaud?s impressive 1,500-piece collection. That ground painting, being epphemera, has of course disappeared forever.
Perhaps the seed of an idea was planted then to Serval; perhaps it was prompted by Serval?s own art practice, in which he might glue sand and other objects near-to-hand on to the surface of his paintings as part of their composition. Since 1989 Serval has been commuting between his home among the Warlpiri and Anmatyerre people in and around Alice Springs. He was familiar with their ceremonial ground paintings, which used the yellow-flowering wamulu plant and the desert?s ochres to ?paint? or construct the Dreaming stories these works depicted.
Wamulu, in particular, is of enormous sacred significance: dried and soaked in the ochres, it is then usually ?sung? onto its place in the design on the ground, an embodiment of the Dreaming story being performed. The soft white down of the seed pod is used as a kind of flock backing, allowing the patterns, marks and symbols to stand in relief across the ground?s surface.
These ground paintings are not permitted to be seen by outsiders; they are secret business. When the ceremony is complete, so is the ground drawing?s life. Where the winds blow, so the human marks dissolve into the desert.
Like the momentous inspiration of Geoffrey Bardon in the late 1960s and 1970s to suggest to the Pintupi elders that some of their ground designs could transfer onto primed board through the medium of acrylic paint, so Serval, one day on their return from Paris, suggested to Tjangala the transfer of these ground paintings on to board by mixing polyvinyl chloride with the wamulu.
?I asked him if it would be a good idea if we mix glue in and it stay,? says Serval.
Several significant issues were at stake in the seemingly innoculous question. The first was its implication of permanence. What was being suggested was that the ceremonial Dreaming story be turned into ?art object? ? something of quite different meaning and purpose to its original function. The second was that uninitiated eyes would be seeing the wamulu in situ, changing the plant?s function from sacred process into secular pattern.
But Serval also knew that Tjangala, as an elder of his community and ?boss? of the Emu Dreaming ? and, indeed, all the elders Serval had encountered over the 16 years he had liveved among them ? carried the weight of his custodianship with a profound awareness of his responsibilities. ?He thought this over for a long time,? says Serval, ?then he looked at me for a long time. And then he said OK.?
Other elders, in particular lawman Albie Moriss Tjampintjinpa, Water Dreaming ?boss? Dinny Nolan Tjampintjinpa and Johnny Possum Tjampaltjari, Clifford Possum?s borther and guardian of the Possum Dreaming, were quick to join Tjangala in his decision.
The four artists began to work together, producing a body of works suitable for exhibition to outside eyes. The boss of the story would lay down the design on a primed board, the others would sing the story as he worked. The wamulu mixed with polyvinyl chloride would then be laid onto the pattern to form its substance, and the seed-down would form its background ?wash?.
As Serval sees its, with the transference of these wamulu paintings onto primed board, ?the oold men have opened another way to carry on their culture?.
An exhibition of the four artists? work is at Annandale Galleries until April 2. Accompanying it are works from the Serval collection, including paintings by Emily Kame Kngwarreye, Clifford Possum Tjampaltjari and Long Jack Phillipus.
» View How sacred, secret and transitory became permanent and public exhibition
In 2002, Western Desert artists Ted Egan Tjangala and Albie Moriss Tjampitjinpa flew to Paris under the patronage of the French artist and collector Arnaud Serval to execute a special ceremonial ?ground painting? to mark the opening of Wati, an exhibition of indeigenous art drawn from Arnaud?s impressive 1,500-piece collection. That ground painting, being epphemera, has of course disappeared forever.
Perhaps the seed of an idea was planted then to Serval; perhaps it was prompted by Serval?s own art practice, in which he might glue sand and other objects near-to-hand on to the surface of his paintings as part of their composition. Since 1989 Serval has been commuting between his home among the Warlpiri and Anmatyerre people in and around Alice Springs. He was familiar with their ceremonial ground paintings, which used the yellow-flowering wamulu plant and the desert?s ochres to ?paint? or construct the Dreaming stories these works depicted.
Wamulu, in particular, is of enormous sacred significance: dried and soaked in the ochres, it is then usually ?sung? onto its place in the design on the ground, an embodiment of the Dreaming story being performed. The soft white down of the seed pod is used as a kind of flock backing, allowing the patterns, marks and symbols to stand in relief across the ground?s surface.
These ground paintings are not permitted to be seen by outsiders; they are secret business. When the ceremony is complete, so is the ground drawing?s life. Where the winds blow, so the human marks dissolve into the desert.
Like the momentous inspiration of Geoffrey Bardon in the late 1960s and 1970s to suggest to the Pintupi elders that some of their ground designs could transfer onto primed board through the medium of acrylic paint, so Serval, one day on their return from Paris, suggested to Tjangala the transfer of these ground paintings on to board by mixing polyvinyl chloride with the wamulu.
?I asked him if it would be a good idea if we mix glue in and it stay,? says Serval.
Several significant issues were at stake in the seemingly innoculous question. The first was its implication of permanence. What was being suggested was that the ceremonial Dreaming story be turned into ?art object? ? something of quite different meaning and purpose to its original function. The second was that uninitiated eyes would be seeing the wamulu in situ, changing the plant?s function from sacred process into secular pattern.
But Serval also knew that Tjangala, as an elder of his community and ?boss? of the Emu Dreaming ? and, indeed, all the elders Serval had encountered over the 16 years he had liveved among them ? carried the weight of his custodianship with a profound awareness of his responsibilities. ?He thought this over for a long time,? says Serval, ?then he looked at me for a long time. And then he said OK.?
Other elders, in particular lawman Albie Moriss Tjampintjinpa, Water Dreaming ?boss? Dinny Nolan Tjampintjinpa and Johnny Possum Tjampaltjari, Clifford Possum?s borther and guardian of the Possum Dreaming, were quick to join Tjangala in his decision.
The four artists began to work together, producing a body of works suitable for exhibition to outside eyes. The boss of the story would lay down the design on a primed board, the others would sing the story as he worked. The wamulu mixed with polyvinyl chloride would then be laid onto the pattern to form its substance, and the seed-down would form its background ?wash?.
As Serval sees its, with the transference of these wamulu paintings onto primed board, ?the oold men have opened another way to carry on their culture?.
An exhibition of the four artists? work is at Annandale Galleries until April 2. Accompanying it are works from the Serval collection, including paintings by Emily Kame Kngwarreye, Clifford Possum Tjampaltjari and Long Jack Phillipus.