In mid-2012, Noŋgirrŋa Marawili began inserting cascading streams of diamonds into her paintings. The move coincided with her decision to start painting sites from her Maḏarrpa clan estates. Those familiar with Yolŋu art immediately associated these diamonds with the sacred miny’tji (clan designs) of the Maḏarrpa. But Noŋgirrŋa insisted that this was not the case. These were not sacred designs, she protested, but rather designs from her own heart and her own mind. As a senior woman, steeped in the protocols and proscriptions of Yolngu Law, Noŋgirrŋa did not want to be seen as infringing upon the rights of those who had a greater proprietary claim to paint them. And yet, once aware of the resemblance, it is almost impossible not to see an echo of these sacred Maḏarrpa patterns in works such as Guykthurr ga Guṉḏa | Lightning and the Rock.

In May 2015 I asked Djambawa Marawili—the leader of the Maḏarrpa clan—for his thoughts on the uncanny motifs in Noŋgirrŋa’s paintings. To illustrate his answer, he took me into the gallery at the Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Art Centre in Yirrkala. There, along two opposing walls, hung a series of paintings by Djambawa and a series by Noŋgirrŋa, both depicting the saltwater estate of Yathikpa. Standing before one of his paintings, Djambawa ran his fingers down the strings of diamonds of the Maḏarrpa miny’tji. Then he turned to Noŋgirrŋa’s work, drawing my attention to the zigzaggy mesh of diamonds that crashed like lightning down her bark. “If you stand back,” said Djambawa, “you can see the pattern [of the Maḏarrpa miny’tji ]. They are not the patterns, but the country is still speaking through her.”

Watch The Mulka Project's documentary film Gapu ga Guṉḏa on the art of Noŋgirrŋa Marawili:

– Henry Skerritt