You Can Ask That!

I think back to when I first started exhibiting internationally; I didn’t change my work then, and I haven’t since. I’ve felt that the opportunities I’ve had to work with curators internationally have meant they are aware of our culture and issues with colonialism. I think particularly around mining, and the interest in my work relating to nuclear testing in South Australia, has led to a more open conversation and a shift in recognising First Nations artists globally. I don’t want to change my work, and I feel like I would be selling myself, my family, and older people out by adjusting it for audiences that don’t understand our history. There have been times when curators have asked to adjust a work or remove pieces, and I’ve said no – that’s displacement by not having a work in its entirety, and thankfully, this issue doesn’t happen very often. My theory is that if you don’t have that knowledge or don’t know much about it, you can go read about it. We’ve given enough as Aboriginal people and created these artworks that speak about what we have had to deal with. This has been very generous. In a way, I would like this to be reciprocated with people doing their own research.

First Peoples art has been growing steadily for at least the last 8-10 years and has had waves of ‘moments’ for decades. This recent shift in focus has been driven and influenced by inclusions in global art spaces like Documenta and the Venice Biennale, as well as progressive and collaborative curatorial research in major institutions such as Palais de Tokyo, Tate Modern, Musée du quai Branly – Jacques Chirac, The MET, and Museu de Arte de São Paulo (MASP), to name a few, that are addressing overlooked and underrepresented art histories. This shift is due to the extraordinary talent of First Peoples artists, the cultural nuance their work holds, and the pertinent issues relating to the environment and the local and global geo-political ecologies that it speaks into, providing not only a new perspective but also important knowledge that has been excluded from history and the art world for too long. I firmly believe that Indigenous art is not ‘a moment’ or a trend; it should be part of the fabric of thinking for arts organisations, from collection strategy to programming and research. It should be inclusive of Indigenous curatorial and research voices; it should not be extracted from but included and collaborated with. First Peoples art is already reaching international audiences, so it is not about ‘adjusting’ your practice to fit into a global art context; it is the global art world adjusting its Eurocentric approach to art histories and inclusion to consider the diverse practices in Australia. You wouldn’t ask a European contemporary artist to show in America, or an American to show in London, to adjust their practice, so why would Indigenous artists need to do that? What artists have to say here is a transnational story. One does not have to change their practice to communicate our histories, cultural knowledge, or the message of the work to a global market/audience/curator, but speaking to an international audience in terms of interpretation does have its own language. Concepts that we may be more fluent in Australia around Indigeneity may not be understood internationally as we intend them to be (First Peoples concepts of Country and our many nations or language in relation to ‘Blak’, for example), so it’s important to be conscious of your audience when communicating beyond the cultural context of Australia, which means sometimes explaining things in more detail or giving some context to the cultural or political space you are coming from.

As a curator navigating global interest in Indigenous art, my primary goal is to honour the deep histories and complexities of the diverse cultures that make up Indigenous Australia. While it’s essential that our stories are accessible to international audiences, it’s equally important that they are conveyed in a way that remains true to us.

I’ve encountered criticism for being overly inclusive, which only highlights the struggle we face in showcasing artists who don’t conform to preconceived notions of what Indigenous art is expected to look like. This challenge has persisted for years, but it feels more critical than ever as we collectively strive to move beyond the narrow tropes that have historically defined our art and culture for Western audiences.

It’s vital that Indigenous art, in an international context, reflects the breadth and diversity of Indigenous peoples. It should be presented in a way that resists reinforcing tired notions of Indigeneity as being at odds with modernity, even if that means it doesn’t fit comfortably within a singular, assimilated narrative. It is as diverse as we are—ancient yet among the most contemporary and daringly modern art in the world.