10 minute read

Naminapu Maymuru-White: Milɳiyawuy - The River of Heaven and Earth

(Naminapu Maymuru-White) NMW/ Yeah. You don’t smoke, eh?

(Liz Nowell) LN/ I used to.

NMW/ Well, you sit on this end.

LN/ No, no, that’s all right. I like it.

NMW/ No.

LN/ Why?

NMW/ If you sit there, you’ll start smoking again.

LN/ Yeah. That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you.

NMW/ So how am I supposed to start up to just talk about?

LN/ Well, you can say whatever you want. I can ask you questions. I was going to ask you some questions maybe about how long you’ve been making art for and how did you become an artist? A good question?

NMW/ Well, I know how I started thinking about how to become an artist. Because before I used to work as a teacher training. I started off at Homeland. I used to come in for training. But I used to spend my time with my father, like coming back from school, sitting down with him, talking to him, asking questions, ‘why?’. He used to tell me stories and I became very interested. Even though some of my family, my brothers and sisters, they used to do art. But now it seems like everyone’s not there.

So, I kept thinking about old man’s words. Because the last exhibition, I went for his exhibition, from Melbourne to Canberra, that’s where he had his last exhibition, I think. So, he said to me, ‘There’s only two of you [siblings], that I’m happy for you to continue our clan design of work to carry on. So that in the future, you might teach your own children.’ That’s what he said.

So anyway, before he went, I started thinking about doing that. Even though it was hard because of the kids. But anyway, I love my art.

LN/ I assume you must’ve felt a real sense of responsibility to carry on that clan design because your old man trusted you to do that. So, it’s kind of a big cultural responsibility, big family responsibility.

NMW/ Yes. Yes.

LN/ Even if it’s hard sometimes.

NMW/ And it’s really, really important to my life. Because my children have been seeing me doing a lot of artwork. I’ve been to a couple of exhibitions, like one in Darwin, Sydney, maybe two in Sydney. I can’t remember. And now the kids are grownups. Not kids anymore. My two boys and my daughter, they help me a lot, all carrying things for me. And I tell them, ‘You don’t have to just sit here and watch. You’ve seen me do this. So how about it?’.

LN/ Yeah. That’s how you learn, isn’t it? And that’s how you teach. It sounds like you’re a natural born teacher, both in education and in art—in culture. Are you teaching your children your clan design as well?

NMW/ Yes.

Because it’s like whenever you go, there’s no one else to pass on whatever you were given. They would say, ‘No, we don’t know how to do that’. And they’ve lost their identity, their culture, and everything, and some kids are like that—those who don’t spend time with their parents, if someone else is trying to teach them, they have more respect towards what we are doing for them.

LN/ Yeah. And are they doing their own work now or they’re still painting with you?

NMW/ My youngest son, Patrick White. He got very, very sick. So even though I was spending time with him, when we stayed in Darwin, they were still sending me some stuff to work on my art, which kept me going and to support me. And when we came back, I had to fly first to my uncle’s funeral then he flew over later. And when we both went back, he started doing exercise and he did the first art on screen (screenprint) about the Milky Way. I got surprised when I saw that.

LN/ It sounds as though you’ve been making art for a long time, and you’ve got this show coming up. Do you aspire to be a kind-of famous artist? I mean, you kind of already are a star—or you just want to paint because you want to?

NMW/ I don’t want to be famous, I hate that word.

I just want to carry on that work that I’ve been asked to carry on, pass it over. And I’m not a person who I can tell people what to do, but I’m proud that my old man gave me permission to work with my children.

LN/ So, it was just you and one other sibling that your father passed that down to? Your clan design?

NMW/ My sister’s gone.

Because we were the last two out of the family that carried it on. My eldest brother Baluka, he’s an old man now but some of his children, boys, can do art, but are not really keen because of what other things are happening around.

LN/ Yeah, I mean, that’s a big responsibility on you to be passing that on, on your own.

And the river of stars, Milky Way, represents what you see on the land. And it’s what you can see in your spirit that you are traveling through that river of stars.

NMW/ I know.

LN/ So, did your father paint the Milky Way too?NMW/ Yes.

LN/ And you teach your kids the Milky Way?

NMW/ I didn’t exactly copy what he did, but I had another idea. My vision, what I see, is for the land, I can see a different way of seeing things through Milky Way. Milky Way, I see it and I interpret that. In the Milky Way there was a river of Wayawu.

A Homeland, a river of Wayawu. And people lived there a long time ago. The river relates to the land and what I interpret is the land and up in the sky.

LN/ Like a mirror?

NMW/ Yes.

LN/ The river is like the Milky Way, reflected in the sky? Is that how you mean?

NMW/ No. The river runs through the land, right?

LN/ Yeah.

Installation view of Naminapu Maymuru-White, 'Milŋiyawuy—The River of Heaven and Earth', 2022 Sullivan+Strumpf, Sydney. Image courtesy the artist and Buku Larrŋgay Mulka. Photo: Mark Pokorny

Installation view of Naminapu Maymuru-White, 'Milŋiyawuy—The River of Heaven and Earth', 2022 Sullivan+Strumpf, Sydney. Image courtesy the artist and Buku Larrŋgay Mulka. Photo: Mark Pokorny

Naminapu Maymuru-White, 'Milŋiyawuy 7' (detail), 2021 Larrakitj, earth pigment on wood 211 x 20 cm Image courtesy the artist and Buku Larrŋgay Mulka. Photo: Mark Pokorny

Naminapu Maymuru-White, 'Milŋiyawuy 7' (detail), 2021 Larrakitj, earth pigment on wood 211 x 20 cm Image courtesy the artist and Buku Larrŋgay Mulka. Photo: Mark Pokorny

NMW/ And the river of stars, Milky Way, represents what you see on the land. And it’s what you can see in your spirit, that you are traveling through that river of stars. The stars represent all the people, spirits taking you up. And the river itself, up there and here, also represents the circle of the string. Especially the string called a Burrkun.

It belongs to Maŋgalili people. I did a work before on a big bark and someone else brought it to their gallery but now I’m doing another one. When I start on that, I think about the journey now, the land itself. The land, how you relate to the land. And then on the land, the people living. And when they hunt there and everything, when time comes, that river turns itself, to interpret itself. But it’s a spiritual river and it takes you through that river.

And also, when I said Burrkun, the special string, we do Buŋgul (ceremonial dance) and singing, we stretch that long string, put it on our shoulder and circle around the camp, crying out as a night bird. That night bird is a messenger, it cries out, letting people know that the spirit is travelling, the spirit of that person. It’s traveling. To let people know. It’s a special Buŋgul that we do. And the next day, the spirit travels, but it also travels while we do the Buŋgul dance. It travels.

LN/ From the river up into the Milky Way or from the land into the Milky Way?

NMW/ Yes. All.

LN/ Along the string?

NMW/ That string represents the river now. Because what we believe, what I was told about the Milky Way. But when I did my first painting, the new version of it, I saw the string going around, circling. And then it represents the river, the river that flows. And then it goes right up. And the stars. They represent the spirit of the people up there already.

“My vision, what I see, is for the land, I can see a different way of seeing things through Milky Way.”

LN/ Oh, I’ll never be able to look at the Milky Way the same.

NMW/ And if you’re very, very sick you can lie down and watch. There is a special healing in them when you look. But when you go to my Homeland, that’s the best place you can have a close look.

LN/ Yeah. Because no city lights out there on Country, on the Homeland.

NMW/ And all the stars, they change into animals as well, always changing.

One day I went to Merrki’s mother’s funeral with Will Stubbs’ wife’s mum. And we were out there, and we were having dinner and supper, roundabout, as the sun dropped to become early night, about 8:00pm. We were all sitting near the campfire telling stories and something caught my eye. And I looked at it. I looked at it and then I turned around and said, ‘Everyone look, look up, that star is formed into itself like a crocodile.’ The stars changed into a crocodile.

The tail was pointing right back at Djarrakpi, and the head was pointing to that place where the old lady’s family lives, Dhanaya and Bawaka. So I had a really, really good look. Coming back I did this really nice painting of that. Not imagining now, just by looking at it. Like taking a picture of it. I looked at it, I saw it, all those stars shaped into a crocodile, the river of the Milky Way. The tail pointing back at home, the head pointing to where we were.So, I sat down and I wrote a story about it, how we relate. How people are related, how the song lines are related, everyone. So, when I see things before I do anything—I see a vision.

Naminapu Maymuru-White in interview for ‘Naminapu Maymuru-White | Bark Ladies: Eleven Artists from Yirrkala’, Vimeo video (still), NGV, Melbourne, 4 February 2022

Naminapu Maymuru-White in interview for ‘Naminapu Maymuru-White | Bark Ladies: Eleven Artists from Yirrkala’, Vimeo video (still), NGV, Melbourne, 4 February 2022

Installation view of 'Bark Ladies: Eleven Artists from Yirrkala' from 17 December 2021 to 25 April 2022 at NGV International, Melbourne, featuring Naminapu Maymuru-White, Riŋgitjmi gapu, 2021, decal installation Federation Court, dimensions variable. Image courtesy the artist and Buku Larrŋgay Mulka. Photo: Tom Ross

Installation view of 'Bark Ladies: Eleven Artists from Yirrkala' from 17 December 2021 to 25 April 2022 at NGV International, Melbourne, featuring Naminapu Maymuru-White, Riŋgitjmi gapu, 2021, decal installation Federation Court, dimensions variable. Image courtesy the artist and Buku Larrŋgay Mulka. Photo: Tom Ross

Naminapu Maymuru-White, 'Milŋiyawuy 7' (detail), 2022 earth pigment on stringy bark (eucalyptus sp.), approximately 220 x 270 cm dimensions variable (per panel). Photo: mark Pokorny

Naminapu Maymuru-White, 'Milŋiyawuy 7' (detail), 2022 earth pigment on stringy bark (eucalyptus sp.), approximately 220 x 270 cm dimensions variable (per panel). Photo: mark Pokorny

LN/ Before you paint? You have a vision before you start painting?

NMW/ I don’t imagine things.LN/ No, they’re there.

When I see things before I do anything, I see a vision.

NMW/ Yeah. As us Yolŋu people say, the spirit is always with you. You can see the spirit, not bad spirits, but good spirits. Like your ancestor’s spirit, your father’s spirit, your grandfather watching over you, what you’re doing. Guiding you, leading you, teaching you as well. This is true.

LN/ That’s true.

NMW/ And it happens too. So, I’m really proud with myself.

NMW/ For being an artist. I still think about my father’s words, what he said to me.

Exhibition: 'MilŊiyawuy—The River of Heaven and Earth', February 3 - March 12 2022