Saturday 28 April 2012

Beauty and many birds


This is the first of my posts about places I love. This spot is north of Gascoyne Junction on the Lyndon Towera Rd. It is very unassuming and you would never guess the beauty here unless you stop and look, walk and listen.


Country looking upstream of  the tree. You can see it is quite arid. The giant tree is probably fifty metres behind me.
There is a giant of a tree here, not tall, but broad and enveloping, spreading out along the creek bed for metres around. It is kind of at the beginning of the visible part of the creek drainage line. It must be extremely old as rainfall is sporadic and averages just over 200mm a year. I wonder how many people have sat under its spreading branches over its lifetime? We were there last year after good rains and there were small pools of water in the creek. A creek here is usually a dry sandy drainline recognisable from a distance by the larger trees which grow along it. 


General view looking 'upstream'


Fantastic branches reaching out to touch the ground 
A tangle of branches
Because there was still water around there were plenty of birds. From my diary: Curious noisy miners hopped in close to have a good look at me. A grey heron flew off. After dusk when the sky was pink and blue the budgies settled in the big beautiful trees with a great budgie chorus, chattering away until they settled. Crickets calling after dark. Heard the pied butcherbird calling from first light onwards till sunrise.


Pool in creek around which the birds congregated
Distant trill of spiny cheeked honeyeater. Chirrups of willy wagtail, bun bun balala near and far, a few zebra finches. Budgies after first rays of sunshine - they headed straight off into the distance. Pink and grey galahs after sunrise. Whirs of crested pigeons and diamond doves and bronzewings. White naped honeyeaters. Rufous song lark doing his display call. White browed babblers and their nests, squarkling and mewling. Magpies feeding in the surrounding claypan and mulgas, mudlarks flitting about the creek bed and up into the trees, plenty of weiros sitting in flocks in the trees, grey heron, singing honeyeater, wedge tailed eagle hunting and disturbing all the other birds. A veritable smorgasbord of birds. Plus plenty of animal tracks in the damp red sandy creek bed. 


Leaves hanging in the morning light


Shadows on bark

Friday 27 April 2012

Of pain and belonging - a raw reminder

There is another story to tell about our experiences in the lead up to Brave New Works #19. Sandra Hill gave an artist's talk to interested members of our community. She told us the story of her family and her journey in searching for the story of her family. She took the audience through a selection of  copies of government documentation and archived letters that related directly to her family - herself, parents, grandparents and siblings. She and those preceding generations mentioned are members of the stolen generation, where the government of the day took it upon themselves to remove part aboriginal children from their parents, and brought them up away from their families and culture. This was part of the assimilation policy of the time; the reasoning behind this was complex and misguided. Obviously the voices of dissent at the time were not strong enough to stop it from happening. Suffice to say it happened, and I felt horror at the thought that it had.

Sandra's presentation was an extremely raw and emotional experience. The pleading letters from the parents of the children that had been taken were heartbreaking. She showed us letters that asked, extremely politely, to see their children, or just to know where the children were.  The pleas were invariably declined. The worst for me was a letter from Sandra's grandmother, old and going blind, asking to know where her children were so she could see them before she went blind.  And  the request was denied ... Can you imagine that? It was by chance in 1983 that Sandra's sister discovered that their father was still alive and they began the journey of connecting with their missing family.



The image I have chosen is a quiet view of Wilson Inlet,
part of the country to which Sandra has familial kinship links.


When we turned up at our rehearsals on the Kwoorabup trail the next day, those of us who had been to Sandra's talk were in a stunned and emotionally raw state. It really brought home to us the power of some of the issues we were attempting to address in our performance on the trail. Coming from a family where I know my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, great aunts and uncles it is hard to imagine being deprived of all that. It is equally hard to imagine deliberately setting out to do that to other families ... 

I thank the generosity of people like Sandra who share their story, despite the pain each retelling must involve. It is personal stories like this that help us to understand the multi-generational disconnection that has been inflicted upon our indigenous people. Through understanding I hope we can begin to build a better relationship between everyone here in Australia.


Currently there is an exhibition on at Indigenart -Mossensen Galleries, Subiaco featuring the works of Sandra Hill, Irwin Lewis and Pauline Moran called Cause and Effect. It continues till 12th May. The gallery describes the works as reflecting upon and responding to the effects of the government policies enacted in the 1905 Aborigines Act and the Assimilation policies of the 1950's and 1960's. These policies had 'irreversibly destructive effects upon Aboriginal families and communities, their cultural traditions and their inherent connection to traditional lands'.

Walking on the white side Sandra Hill
Image from Indigenart website


Link to article about Sandra Hill in the Donnybrook Mail by Nina Smith.
Link to Indigenart - Mossensen Galleries.


Thursday 26 April 2012

By the river - Mandjar Kwoorabup



While we were rehearsing at one end of the Kwoorabup trail, at the other end closer to town, indigenous artists Sandra Hill and Norma McDonald were creating a series of site specific ephemeral artworks on the trail. This was the Mandjar Kwoorabup project designed to give a taste of creating site specific environmental artworks to other indigenous people in the Great Southern region. This again was part of the Denmark Art's Brave New Works community arts festival. There was a fantastic turnout of both indigenous and non indigenous people including children who came along to help out or hang out to see what was going on. Apart from being an opportunity for learning from successful indigenous artists, the project has the long term vision that the creation of site specific artworks on Country by indigenous artists, will help people respect and value a connection to Country.

Paperbark space in memory of ancestors. 
Spirit door - dyes, resins, natural materials, leaves.



Closeup resin dyed strips 


Sandra Hill planned the artworks in minute detail, and Norma brought a wealth of working knowledge about natural resins and dyes. I headed down there a few times to help out and found myself knitting string into odd shaped free form pieces that were component parts of a large 'stretched net' that Sandra completed on the last day. The artworks were made entirely from natural fabrics, paper, natural resins and dyes and found materials. The first work on the trail is a space dedicated to the memory of the ancestors, the indigenous people who lived here in the past. It is a quiet meditative space amongst the paperbarks beside the river. The lengths of dyed cloth and strips enveloping and fluttering in the breezes.Messages written by participants hand on paper mobiles spinning from the branches.


Drawing made by indigenous participants 
Drawing made by indigenous participants - language



















A series of drawings in resin hang along the trail made by indigenous participants.


The next big work is based on a mallee fowl nest. The mallee fowl is a native bird that makes a huge mound of plant material in which it lays and buries its eggs. The heat from the composting of the plant matter incubates the eggs. The adult birds maintain the mound and monitor the temperature adding and removing plant litter as needed. When the young hatch they are fully self reliant. The mallee fowl are an endangered species here in Western Australia. For the artwork a large structure was made from found materials with a hollow in the centre. This centre was decorated with dyed and resinous strips and messages written by community members were dropped in the centre. This nest structure represents everyone's need for home and family.


Sandra Hill ,left, and Norma McDonald, right, in front row with helpers behind.
This is looking down into the nest.
Photo by Mike Hemmings.
The large nest beside the river.

Looking inside the nest with resinous strips and messages.

The final artwork by Sandra on the trail is this one, based on the idea of a net. The river and fishing were important in the physical and spiritual lives for the original inhabitants of this region. This is why Sandra chose the net as it was an important metaphor for her. Members of the community each knitted unique pieces of 'net' with string..  These were then dyed, then stitched together and stretched amongst the logs and stumps. This piece represents the need for everyone in the community to work together to create a positive future together.
Closeup of the 'net'.

The 'net' in full view against the river.

 All the unattributed photos were taken by me.

Resin coated leaf
More photos by Mike Hemmings here.



Saturday 21 April 2012

Of rivers, tall trees and tales

As part of an Arts Practicum unit of study earlier this year I participated in a community performance project. It was designed around a series of workshops covering textiles, writing and performance, directed by local choreographer Annette Carmichael. The project Solace + Yearning: Between Kwoorabup and Denmark was part of Denmark's community arts festival Brave New Works #19. It culminated in a series of five site-specific performances on the Kwoorabup Trail along the banks of the Denmark River (Kwoorabup Beelia).

You can watch a You Tube video of the making of Solace + Yearning. 





Solace + Yearning was a contemporary abstract performance aiming to reach the emotional heart of our connection to country and to invite the audience to begin to see the complexities and contradictions of our indigenous and settler histories. We wove stories along the trail, shared histories and culture, incorporated written and spoken text, music and song, dance and performance. The silks for our costumes were dyed with local plant materials so fitted beautifully in the environment. The audience moved along the trail with us making it an extremely intimate experience.  We worked out under the cool of the tall karri trees or in the baking heat of the paddock. As summer wore on the karri shed silver and rust bark strips to expose cream gold trunks, covering the path. We had to contend with stinging march flies after the rain and bull ant bites if we ventured too close to their nests. Despite this, I found the whole experience to be intense, inspiring and enriching. It was great to be playing with textiles again and performing was a new challenge for me which is always good for the soul.

The below web address will take you to a photostream for the performance.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/denmarkarts/sets/72157629568831307/with/6829814732/



Thursday 19 April 2012

What's in a lake?

Quite often it's not water.

Typical inland 'lake'

Quite often it is a lot of salt. Pink Lake is a hypersaline lake fed by artesian springs and has been mined for salt since 1981. The pink colour is found in the micro-organisms Dunaliella salina.



Pink Lake between Nhill and Dimboola

Speaking of lakes, the definition of lake in my Australian edition of the Collins English Dictionary defines a lake as 'n. an expanse of water entirely surrounded by land and unconnected to the sea except by rivers or streams'. Obviously they didn't check Australia's lakes before writing that definition of lake or come up with new ways to describe our lakes. I would add 'a flat depression, sometimes saline, that is often dry but fills after rain to become a water filled lake' and 'may be a man made dam that by convention is called a lake, likely to contain water all year round and performs the function of a conventional lake'. Some would say this idea of lake is culturally defined, arising out of the English European experience of a lake which we have inherited (Jay Arthur). Our lakes are often defined by what they are not; a dry salt lake, an ephemeral lake, not a 'proper' lake.

Claypan at Meedo after flooding rains

Claypan after rains


Lake Ballard is an ephemeral salt lake near Menzies usually dry with lovely red mud. It has a series of 51 stainless steel sculptures by Antony Gormley based on body scans of many of the local residents installed in 2003. I finally got to experience the lake and sculptures in 2009 on our way back from the Carnarvon Ranges.

Lake Ballard in late afternoon rain

We were up before dawn to walk onto the lake and view the sculptures in the early morning light. The red mud was sticky from the previous light rain but we trudged on through. It was fantastic, quiet, surreal, exciting. The figures had the thinned out look you see in a heat mirage - though it was late winter when we were there. It had been a must see for me ever since they had been installed and I am so glad they are still there and we finally made it.

Antony Gormley sculpture at dawn


Antony Gormley sculpture at sunrise


Lake Ballard in morning  light

Most of the permanent fresh water lakes that I have come across here are actually dams. I grew up in the hills where our favourite summer swimming hole was Lake Leschenaultia, which was a dam built in 1898 to provide water for the steam trains travelling along the Eastern Railway Line to the goldfields. I even learnt to swim there. The water was so cold I used to think our swimming lessons were in winter. It was only as an adult I realised our summer lessons were in the shady side of the lake where the water never had a chance to warm up plus the easterly winds that efficiently cooled the surface - overnight evaporative cooling. By the time our lessons finished we were blue with cold.

Lake Nallan near Cue is waterless in drought but in a good wet winter it fills up and is a haven for bird life as in the photo below. It too is a dam. This photo is taken from on the wall. I haven't been able to find out what was there before the wall was built but I expect it was some form of ephemeral wetland. There are a number of lovely mature paperbarks growing there.




Lake Nallan 
Part of wall at Lake Nallan



Wednesday 18 April 2012

Lake Eyre sublime

Recently we were up in Perth and one of the exhibitions we went to was Salt, a series of photographic works by Murray Fredericks. His images filled a room in the Fremantle Arts Centre and is on till May 13th. This was one of many photographic exhibitions currently on in Perth. His images of Lake Eyre were sublime, enormous canvases of pure colour, ground disappearing into the sky with a hint of horizon. Lakes of colour. Pure space.




Apparently Fredericks would camp out there for weeks at a time, becoming absorbed into the environment no doubt. And being there to capture those special moments. He used a camera with 10 x 8 inch photographic plate - the images from this size plate just pulled me in - mesmerising. For those who don't know, Lake Eyre is an immense salt lake, roughly 1,350,000 hectares, 15 metres below sea level and generally dry - a vast salt landscape. At the moment it in a fabulously rare wet stage thanks to all the rain in Queensland and New South Wales. 






 Just to whet your appetite here are some of his images - try to imagine them as ultra huge canvases. According to Fredericks his work tries to extend beyond the surface viewing of  landscape to a mental space of pure experience, leaving conscious thought behind. Truly it was an experience standing in front of those images. His work even has an anthropological angle as his website states that Fredericks 'has a perspective that views culture as something that cannot be wholly accounted for through social construct. It's a view that sees some values as derived from a time-less essence.' I guess that essence could be the emotional connection to country that one feels when camped out in the bush - absorbing the experience of being in the moment, leaving behind all the clutter of our modern lives - as well as the spiritual connection to country that is part of many cultural belief systems today. I think that connection is outside of self and outside of time ...




If you ever have the chance to see some of his work - DO SO. Thank you Murray, it was so worth the drive to Perth.
Link to Murray Fredericks website.

Monday 16 April 2012

Five small diversions

We have puppies. Five roly poly black and white border collie pups. When I tire of researching Edward Sapir and his writings on language and anthropology I can sit and watch the puppies sleeping and feeding. The extent of their voice at the moment is mewling and soft little grffs. Most of their communication seems to be sensory: touch and smell, making a beeline for their mum whenever she comes within close proximity.



This is in total contrast to Sapir who grew up speaking and reading Yiddish (recording Yiddish folk songs), Hebrew (translating the Old Testament) and English. He then went on to study German, Latin, French, Greek and Spanish. At university he added Dutch, Gothic, Icelandic, Middle High German, Sanskrit, Avestan and Persian. Is it any wonder that after he discovered anthropology under the tutelage of Franz Boas that linguistics became his passion?

Sapir is well known for his fieldwork studying Canadian and American Indian languages. He came to believe language was not instinctive but was a product of culture. This could be another arm of the 'nature nurture' debate. The argument goes that if language is a cultural construct then cultures can have different ways of understanding . Here in Australia this is particularly significant when comparing the indigenous and settler understandings of relationship to country.  English defines nature separate to culture whereas according to Deborah Bird Rose, to the Aborigines, nature and culture are entwined and inseparable. In a very broad sense we settlers live on the land and do things to it and the Aborigines live in the land and country is a relationship. Our language patterns tend to frame the relationships in this way. This is what led me to Sapir in the first place.


Edward Sapir 

This image is from Edward Sapir: Linguist, Anthropologist, Humanist by Regna Darnell, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1990.