Mapping the Desert through Art

To look at a piece of Australian Indigenous art is to read a story about the land. Perhaps it covers first encounters with colonisers, maps nomadic walking paths, or serves as a guide to traditional hunting practises and land burning rituals. Likewise, it might tell a story about snakes, witchetty grubs and purple desert flowers. About salt lakes, sandhills, and ancient underground waterways that run from the Northern Territory, through desert plains, and across to the West Australian coast. These waterways receded below ground, 30,000 years ago after a series of Ice Ages started drying out the continent. Now, the waterways feed various springs in a stretch of desert that’s bigger than the whole of Germany. Survival is about knowing where they are. Over the past 40,000 years, painting – on things like rocks and grass weavings – is how that knowledge has passed down.

In the late 19th century, European explorers arrived in this region and described it as a waterless wasteland. But the Martu people, the first inhabitants of the Western Desert, understand the deceptive complexity of their land. There are more than 500 different clan groups or Aboriginal nations dotted around Australia, each with its own artistic style. Generally, Aboriginal art is recognisable through the use of small dots overlaying colourful backgrounds. Contemporary Martu art is a departure from that. 

A Martu canvas might feature bold, expressive gestures in a kaleidoscope of colours that extend beyond desert reds and yellows. The movement in the paintings is gestural and reminiscent of the way their ancestors drew similar maps and symbols with a stick in the sand. Since there’s no written language within the clans, stories are passed on through a series of symbols representing things like edible and medicinal plants, walking tracks, fertile hunting grounds, and people.

Many of the Martu pieces are birds-eye-view landscapes depicting the habitats, fauna and flora that underpin the physical and cultural landscape of their identity. They include their sacred sites, cultural practises and traditional livelihoods. Within this region, there are approximately 300 artists that live among six remote communities. The Martumili Arts Centre in the town of Neman protects, educates and represents them. There are several similar art centres around Australia that work similarly with their local clans. This is necessary since English is not the first language for many Indigenous Australians. It’s particularly important for the Martu people who only had first contact with White Australians in 1964. 

The arts centre acts as a facilitator for the people continuing the oldest unbroken tradition of art in the world. They provide supplies and industry education. They put on exhibitions, and visit the artists while they paint in their communities, hundreds of kilometres from the centre itself. Centres such as Martumili also ensure the ethical sales of Aboriginal art under the Indigenous Art Code. Not only does this secure a fair commission for artists, it also ensures authenticity since fakes are known to circulate. This undercuts sales and misappropriates culture at the same time.

Art centres such as Martumili contribute to the continued emergence of contemporary, Aboriginal art. This gives way to a much-needed revival, understanding of, and respect for the culture of Australia’s first inhabitants. The connection they feel with their land and their understanding of being part of nature, rather than above it, is perhaps a story of which we should take heed.