Organized by the Kluge-Ruhe Aboriginal Art Collection

The Magazine Antiques: A Rare Viewing of Aboriginal Art in the Big Apple

Originally published in The Magazine Antiques, September 23, 2024

Maḏayin: Eight Decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala at the Asia Society, New York © Bruce M. White 2024.

Yolŋu bark paintings have been a jewel of Australian art for decades. Classified as “primitive” art for centuries, this indigenous artform is nonetheless among the traditions which would inspire Western modernists–from Picasso to Arthur Boyd and beyond. These spiritual depictions of native animals, fauna, and people are included in the collections of major Aussie museums like the University of Melbourne, the National Gallery of Australia, and the Art Gallery of  New South Wales. Since 2022, a vast collection of the most prominent examples of bark paintings from 1935 to today has come together in the exhibition Maḏayin: Eight Decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala for the United States to enjoy.

The Yolŋu are a collective cultural group of Australian Aboriginal clans and people who reside in and around Yirrkala, a small community in the Arnhem Land region of the Northern Territory in Australia. Among their many artistic traditions, they are famed for their bark paintings, which are traditional paintings made from natural pigments onto a stretched strip of eucalyptus bark. Referred to as maḏayin, the Yolŋu have painted sacred designs on eucalyptus wood since the early 20th century and were used to represent their culture and as a bargaining item for trade. Before bark, the Yolŋu painted sacred clan designs, known as miny’tji, on their bodies and ceremonial objects for millennia. 

Djambawa Marawili, Ishmael Marika and Yinimala Gumana opening Maḏayin: Eight Decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala at the Asia Society, New York. Photo by Elena Olivo.

Maḏayin was created in partnership with the Kluge-Ruhe Aboriginal Art Collection of the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, Virginia, and the Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Centre in Australia after famed Yolŋu bark artist Djambawa Marawili suggested such a show. When forming this exhibition, the institutions were led by Yolŋu curators and knowledge holders who provided guidance and advice. “It’s not the colonial endeavor that has the curators at the center telling the story of this world. It’s Indigenous artists from one of the most remote parts of the planet saying we have the right to speak in this space,” states Henry Skerritt from the Kluge-Ruhe Aboriginal Art Collection. “Saying that our experiences of the contemporary time we live in are as valid as those of people anywhere in the world.”

Maḏayin has traveled across the United States and has made its final destination at the Asia Society in New York, which is currently on display until January 5. Although its busy Manhattan locale may seem worlds away from Yirrkala, the museum is a perfect fit to exhibit the show. Asia Society has a long history of engagement with Aboriginal Australian art, creating the first Aboriginal art-related exhibition in 1988 with Dreamings: The Art of Aboriginal Australia and in 2002 with The Native Born, which featured paintings and sculptures from Arnhem Land. “We (Asia Society) want to be part of this new turn in museums and art history that essentially decolonizes and re-centers intellectual leadership,” Beth Citron, the Asia Society’s Curator of Modern and Contemporary Asian and Asian Diaspora Art, explains. “You (will) see work that appears to our eyes like mural American abstraction; you see work that’s conceptual. We think of all of the works in the exhibition as essentially as conceptual maps of their world.”

The exhibition comprises artwork made by Yolŋu artists of the past and present, including many who are garnering acclaim for their art and are represented by leading contemporary galleries. “They’re works that in Australia are the kind of undisputed masterpieces by the leading, innovative, important artists,” Skerritt says. Their barks tell modern and traditional stories; some, like Marawili, explore iconic symbols like the Statue of Liberty, while other artists choose miny’tji (sacred clan design) subjects.w

Maḏayin: Eight Decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala at the Asia Society, New York © Bruce M. White 2024

A shining example is seen in Milŋiyawuy (Milky Way) (2019) by Naminapu Maymuru-White. A well-known and respected artist—she was recently featured in the 2024 Biennale Arte—Maymuru-White is also a senior Yolŋu elder and is the first woman taught sacred clan designs. Although muted in color, this miny’tji is a scattering of white four-pointed stars that shine against a pattern of irregularly lined grey and black stripes. 

Maymuru-White achieved this scene through a crosshatched painting technique of applying black natural pigment and layers of white ocre with a marwat or brush of human hair onto a stretch of flattened eucalyptus bark.  This composition depicts the Milŋiyawuy or Milky Way, believed by the Maŋgalili—the artist’s ancestral clan—as a heaven of sorts where the souls of the dead reside. The viewer sees the sky (stars) and the land (stripes) of Blue Mud Bay, located in the Yolŋu’s ancestral home. The artwork tells the story of how two men led the Maŋgalili to their homeland, but upon their return, the duo met their fates and drowned in the Bay, and their spirits formed into the Milŋiyawuy

According to Maymuru-White, each star represents a soul from the past, present, and future. And upon closer inspection of Maḏayin, one could argue that all of the artwork in the show does the same. They explore the past and present and possibly hint at a future where the art industry gives a more prominent voice to those from all over the world. 

Review: Maḏayin: An Unveiling of Essence and Strength 

Madayin: Eight Decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala at the Fralin Museum of Art, 2024. Photo by Stacey Evans.

Uniquely solid against a backdrop of intricate patterns, the shark’s russet body is what first draws attention. A closer look reveals he is impaled, four spears protruding from his conical head and sincere pain reflected in his eyes. As the viewer shifts their gaze upward, time elapses. The injured shark seeks solace by burrowing into the land at Gurala (Buckingham Bay). His body, once opaque, assumes the ancient Yolŋu designs called miny’tji. He abandons the physical to form the Gurrayala river system, his anatomical features breaking up and his skin peeling to create the rocks and Casuarina trees along winding water banks. 

Here I am,” the shark sings out.    

This is the ancient story of Djambarrpuyŋu Mäna. It is told in the form of a bark painting by Wilson Manydjarri Ganambarr and it encapsulates the very exhibition of which it is a part. Maḏayin, currently showcasing at the University of Virginia’s Fralin Museum of Art, is a manifestation of the Yolŋu culture’s essence. It unites bark paintings from Indigenous northern Australia and foregrounds the culturally rich histories conveyed through the art form. As one of Maḏayin’s curators, Henry Skerritt, puts it: “the right people had to speak for each painting.” Just as the wounded shark unfurled to become the spirit of land, Maḏayin expresses deeply ingrained Aboriginal histories. A true show of enduring power, every aspect of the exhibition is intentional and every piece within it records an endless encyclopedia of knowledge.

Manydjarri Ganambarr working on Djambarrpuyŋu Mäna, 1996.

Tracing back its origins, Djambarrpuyŋu Mäna was created in 1996 using traditional and entirely natural methods. Sections of outer bark were cut from eucalyptus trees to make the canvas. It assumed flatness and rigidity through a tedious process of shaping: with its corners weighted down, the bark was heated over a low-burning fire or carefully passed through the flame of a blow torch. Thorough sanding produced the smooth surface along which the artist could meticulously pull his brush. Powdered ochres and adhesive binder comprised the paint’s formula and were responsible for the earthy coloration so characteristic of these pieces. In every sense, Yolŋu people rely upon the land to paint the land. 

Manydjarri painted Djambarrpuyŋu Mäna in his homeland but brought it to the Buku-Larrŋgay Mulka Art Centre in Yirrkala to join a large commission for American collector, John W. Kluge. The intention with this work was always to share Yolŋu culture outwards and to give audiences a glimpse into the sacred story Manydjarri calls his märi (grandmother). 

“Anyone might look at it,” Manydjarri said, but “they are not to covet it.”

The story’s significance is precisely why it has a place in Maḏayin. Though he remains entrenched in the earth as a spirit for some time, Mäna’s journey does not end here. He ultimately reclaims his corporeal form and continues searching for a home, a place to rest. Several bark paintings detail the latter legs of Mäna’s travels: his ventures in Dhuruputjpi, where he changes his language and sacred name, then to Wäṉḏawuy, where he creates a bend in the river whilst breaking free from a fish trap. These subsequent paintings come from within the geographic bounds dictating which works appeared in Maḏayin and which did not. Despite Djambarrpuyŋu Mäna originating slightly west of the borderline, the Yolŋu people working on the exhibition quickly realized that they needed that initial piece. 

“[The] curators were very serious about telling this story in the most complete way possible,” Skerritt said. Djambarrpuyŋu Mäna proved vital to that story.

Gunybi Ganambarr and Binygurr Wirrpanda working on a maquette of the Fralin Museum of Art.

The fervent need to achieve completeness extended beyond Mäna to Maḏayin as a whole. Following the lead of Wukuṉ Waṉambi and Djambawa Marawili, the curatorial process for this exhibition was one of piecing together the right paintings in the right places to form gurruṯu, a system of unity and kinship. According to Skerritt, many late nights were spent first getting a sense for which paintings went where using sheets of paper, then testing different arrangements virtually during the pandemic, and finally, adjusting the exhibit on a maquette. What resulted from this long process was an authentic display of Yolŋu perspectives akin to when Mäna splayed across the land. 

“This exhibition taught us that the most meaningful curating isn’t about just placing paintings on a wall. It’s actually about creating spaces in which people can tell their own stories the way they want to tell them,” said Skerritt.

Milminyina Dhamarrandji explaining Djambarrpuyŋu Mäna to visitors at American University Museum at the Katzen Arts Center.

As Maḏayin concludes its time at the Fralin and gears up to exhibit at the Asia Society in New York City, the hope is that it continues enlightening audiences. It will be the first major exhibition of Aboriginal Australian art in New York in fifteen years and the first exhibition of Aboriginal art not drawn from a private collection in twenty-two years. Maḏayin has an important opportunity to show more people the compelling commentary Yolŋu people make on the world through their contemporary art. Not only that, but it persists in revealing how powerfully Yolŋu voices can speak when given the platform to be heard.