tag:theconversation.com,2011:/uk/topics/indigenous-music-11514/articles
Indigenous music – The Conversation
2023-09-19T19:43:00Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/211653
2023-09-19T19:43:00Z
2023-09-19T19:43:00Z
Buffy Sainte-Marie: Singer-songwriter is an activist at heart
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<p>After a <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/buffy-sainte-marie">60-year career</a>, Buffy Sainte-Marie <a href="https://www.aptnnews.ca/national-news/buffy-sainte-marie-retires-from-live-performances-cites-health-concerns/">recently announced she is hanging up her performing clothes for health-related reasons</a>.</p>
<p>Most articles <a href="https://buffysainte-marie.com">feature Sainte-Marie</a>, now 82, as a musician. However, apart from her creativity, her motive as an activist is usually overlooked. In my research and book, I have examined <a href="https://www.fifthhousepublishers.ca/Detail/1897252781">her commitments and the context she emerged from</a>.</p>
<h2>Greenwich Village, 1963</h2>
<p>Sainte-Marie was born on Piapot First Nation in Saskatchewan but was raised in Massachusetts and Maine <a href="https://indiginews.com/arts/podcast-digs-into-story-of-enduring-icon-buffy-sainte-marie">after she was adopted</a>. When Sainte-Marie found her way to Greenwich Village in New York City in 1963, she had already developed an interest in her Cree heritage, wondering why American Indians seemed relegated to museums. </p>
<p>As a university student and budding singer, she created striking ballads including “Now that the Buffalo’s Gone,” and “My Country ‘Tis of Thy People You’re Dying.” Although the 1960s was an era of social awakening, it was unusual for a woman, let alone an Indigenous one, to be performing songs of such a candid nature examining these issues.</p>
<p>Sainte-Marie’s folk songs were melodic but hard-hitting, and her interest was not confined to Indigenous people. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">CBC video of Buffy Sainte-Marie performing ‘Universal Soldier.’</span></figcaption>
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<h2>Anti-war, involvement with American Indian Movement</h2>
<p>Her popular anti-war song, “Universal Soldier” was penned after encountering wounded men in an airport who were returning from Vietnam. </p>
<p>She realized a lot of attention was being paid to the cause of Black people and legacies of systemic oppression affecting their communities, but little to the long-standing grievances of Indigenous Peoples. </p>
<p>By the late-1960s, the <a href="https://www.pbs.org/video/american-experience-what-was-american-indian-movement/">American Indian Movement (AIM)</a> was gaining national attention. Sainte-Marie worked closely with AIM leaders including Dennis Banks and John Trudell, <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/buffy-sainte-maries-unique-activism-changed-perceptions-of-indigenous-people/24427/">using her public profile to attract funds</a>. </p>
<p>The artist was involved in <a href="https://www.zinnedproject.org/news/tdih/longest-walk-ends/">the 1978 Longest Walk</a> <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/buffy-sainte-maries-unique-activism-changed-perceptions-of-indigenous-people/24427/#">and occupation of Alcatraz</a> in 1969. </p>
<p>She witnessed the hardships and heartbreak of activism when her friend Anna Mae Aquash was murdered in the chaos that followed the <a href="https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/aim-occupation-of-wounded-knee-begins">Wounded Knee Occupation of 1973</a>.</p>
<h2>Multi-faceted commitments</h2>
<p>Sainte-Marie’s activism was multi-faceted, including protest songs, speeches, demonstrations, fund-raising and supporting reservation-based initiatives. </p>
<p>With her lucrative income from recording, she created a scholarship to enable promising young leaders to attend university. Some of those people emerged to become tribal leaders and college presidents. </p>
<p>Another project, the <a href="http://www.cradleboard.org/main.html">Cradleboard Teaching Project</a>, which continues to today, reflects the artist’s enduring interest in education. </p>
<p>Cradleboard produces original Indigenous-based curriculum in areas as diverse as science and sports. It has connected classrooms from places like Hawaii, Saskatchewan and Arizona via the internet. </p>
<h2>Resisting violence, repression</h2>
<p>The murder of Sainte-Marie’s friend Aquash was a blow. In this same period, she found her music was disappearing from the radio waves. </p>
<p>She believed she was just a victim of changing tastes, until she discovered <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/podcastnews/buffy-episode-4-the-spotlight-1.6803959">the Lyndon Johnson White House had demanded radio stations drop her music</a>, a fate suffered by other <a href="https://www.kennedy-center.org/artists/s/sa-sn/buffy-sainte-marie/">activist singers such as her friend Taj Mahal</a>. </p>
<p>In fact, the singer and songwriter’s popularity was as strong as ever, and her fans were wanting more. </p>
<p>She needed a break from music. But it was not long before her creativity found new outlets. </p>
<h2>‘Up Where We Belong’</h2>
<p>The Mac computer had recently come out, and Sainte-Marie quickly became fascinated with its palette of millions of colours. </p>
<p>She began creating <a href="http://buffysainte-marie.com/?page_id=10208">digital art</a>: painting with light, minus the labours of mixing paints and cleaning up. She combined digital and photographic techniques to produce very large canvases. Many works focused on Indigenous themes while others evoked nature. </p>
<p>Another opportunity knocked when <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/my-time-on-sesame-street-with-buffy-sainte-marie/24486/">Sesame Street</a> invited her to contribute Indigenous content. Her son Cody was born soon after, and Sainte-Marie took the opportunity to promote the healthy practice of breastfeeding, in what has been considered <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/q/thursday-june-30-2022-buffy-sainte-marie-and-more-1.6500579/10-things-we-learned-about-buffy-sainte-marie-a-canadian-living-legend-1.6505923">the first depiction</a> of breastfeeding on television. </p>
<p>Additionally, she found a path to winning an Academy Award. Her <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2022/nov/21/buffy-sainte-marie-documentary-interview">then-husband, composer and arranger Jack Nitzsche, was searching for</a> a theme song for the movie <em>An Officer and a Gentleman</em>. Sainte-Marie stepped in with chords that resulted <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/how-buffy-sainte-marie-won-oscar-where-we-belong-2b1ngb/23933/">in “Up Where We Belong,”</a> which won Best Original Song in 1983.</p>
<h2>Pioneer of contemporary Indigenous music</h2>
<p>Sainte-Marie finally found her way back to her first passion of songwriting and singing. Her more innovative and rock-sounding tunes included <a href="https://nac-cna.ca/en/event/30072">“Starwalker,”</a> often referred <a href="https://www.fifthhousepublishers.ca/Detail/1897252781">to as a First Nations anthem</a>.</p>
<p>Other songs such as “Priests of the Golden Bull” are virulently critical of today’s mainstream society with its greed and inequality. For her role in pioneering contemporary Indigenous music, Sainte-Marie was <a href="https://canadianmusichalloffame.ca/inductee/buffy-sainte-marie/">inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame</a>. </p>
<p>She has continued to make appearances up until now, <a href="https://nac-cna.ca/en/event/30072">inspiring multiple generations</a>. She had vowed to make music and perform for as long as she was able and has generated a fruitful career that is hard to rival. </p>
<p>I doubt that this is the last we will hear of this acclaimed artist and activist. The internet now provides many new avenues with which to reach one’s audience. Sainte-Marie knows how to leverage this technology, and I am certain we will continue to feel her presence.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/211653/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>A. Blair Stonechild does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Buffy Sainte-Marie has generated a multi-decade fruitful career that is hard to rival. Her motive as an activist is usually overlooked.
A. Blair Stonechild, Professor of Indigenous Studies, First Nations University of Canada
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/187974
2022-07-31T02:45:16Z
2022-07-31T02:45:16Z
Archie Roach: the great songman, tender and humble, who gave our people a voice
<p><em>Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised this article contains names and images of deceased people. Archie Roach’s family have given permission for his name and image to be shared.</em> </p>
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<p>I am not sure of the first time I heard Archie Roach’s music. </p>
<p>Like most Aboriginal people born during or after the 1980s, we grew up listening to the person we affectionately called Uncle Archie. But there was one song that spoke to me from the first moment I heard it: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPd0rQ5ZcR0">From Paradise</a>. </p>
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<p>The song tells the story of a young girl who was taken away from her Country, the river lands, part of the stolen generations. </p>
<p>While his songs will play loud and long into the future, beneath his music Uncle Archie gave us something else, something deeply profound but mostly invisible. </p>
<p>He gave us – and all of Australia – an image of an Aboriginal man, tender and humble. An image long denied us. </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/creating-a-constitutional-voice-the-words-that-could-change-australia-187972">Creating a constitutional Voice – the words that could change Australia</a>
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<h2>Our greatest storyteller</h2>
<p>The passing of Archie Roach has hit us – Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people – like the first crack of thunder after dark clouds descend. </p>
<p>You know it’s coming, but it shocks you still. </p>
<p>Uncle Archie gave voice, a story, to the experiences of so many of our people. His song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IL_DBNkkcSE">Took the Children Away</a> gave shape to a suffering so deep and profound. “This story’s right, this story’s true,” he sang. </p>
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<p>These cathartic melodies continue to offer us healing. </p>
<p>His catalogue of music spans distances and experiences difficult to grasp.
Uncle Archie’s gift was to write and bring to life through the strum of his guitar, the stories so familiar to us all.</p>
<p>His success took our stories to the nation, and the world. </p>
<p>To describe him simply as a musician fails to recognise him as a messenger.
His music reaches through darkness like the beam of a lighthouse, offering guidance and safe harbour in times of despair. </p>
<p>Through his life and love of music, Uncle Archie became our greatest storyteller. </p>
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<h2>The father and mentor</h2>
<p>The music of Uncle Archie came from a place of suffering. Taken away as a child, being homeless, a drunk, locked up, learning of the death of family through whispers and letters, grief was his constant companion. </p>
<p>Through this time, he found Ruby Hunter. They would have two sons, Amos and Eban. Uncle Archie and Aunty Ruby, with their kids, shared a life of love, laughter and song. My personal favourite song, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RCcs6AOdT0">Down City Streets</a>, was written by Aunty Ruby.</p>
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<p>Uncle Archie has supported hundreds of young Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander artists and inspired countless more through <a href="https://www.archieroach.com/about-the-foundation">his foundation</a>. </p>
<p>For decades Uncle Archie worked in youth detention centres, talking with young people who found themselves in hardship. He offered guidance and mentorship to young Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island people, illuminating a road through the difficulties of life, often the result of colonisation and racism.</p>
<p>He carefully navigated these spaces, acknowledging that while many young Aboriginal people, and especially boys, are born into a world that has been built to suppress them, they possess an inner strength stemming from culture and community. </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/tell-me-why-review-archie-roachs-pain-is-the-pain-of-all-of-us-127723">Tell Me Why review: Archie Roach's pain is the pain of all of us</a>
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<h2>Emu Man</h2>
<p>Through his life, his dedication to Aunty Ruby, his devotion to his sons, his work with disengaged youth and his profound love for his people, Uncle Archie gave the nation an image of an Aboriginal man seldom found in the national psyche.</p>
<p>Images of the violent abuser, the drunk, the criminal, the absent father, or a combination of these, saturate our print media and television news bulletins. Even positive representations of Aboriginal men – the warrior, the sports star – exudes a sense of toughness and candour. </p>
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<p>Rare, almost unheard of, are the stories of Aboriginal men as sensitive, soft, loving and vulnerable people.</p>
<p>Yet it is these qualities <a href="https://genderinstitute.anu.edu.au/indigenising-masculinities">my research</a> has revealed are most valued by our people.</p>
<p>The notion of “Emu Men” has emerged throughout my PhD.</p>
<p>Male emus are the primary carer for their chicks. The male partner will sit on the nest and the father rears the babies. </p>
<p>This notion of manhood and fatherhood – someone dedicated to his family, who has a primary responsibility to ensure the safety of his children and their passage through the world – appears to be deeply entwined in many of our peoples’ customs and cultures.</p>
<p>In Uncle Archie, we find the most profound sense of this alternate masculinity. </p>
<p>His songs will live on forever. But he also gifted us this alternate image of an Aboriginal man: someone soft, tender, loving, vulnerable, generous, resilient. Someone profoundly strong and with an inner wisdom, who sat on his nest and looked after his family and young people experiencing hardship.</p>
<p>It will take time to come to terms with this loss.</p>
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<p>To his family we offer our hearts and hold you in our spirit. </p>
<p>This great songman gave our people a voice and a way to understand what has happened to us. He gave so much to a nation that treated him so badly. </p>
<p>As for me, like many others, Uncle Archie’s music and concerts has offered companionship through major life events. My wife and I danced to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EM2amftre54">Love in the Morning</a> on our wedding day.</p>
<p>And as for From Paradise, from the first moment I heard this song I thought he wrote it about my grandmother who was taken away and sent to Palm Island. </p>
<p>It is difficult to put words to this loss – Uncle Archie was always the one with the words. </p>
<p>Thank you for everything Uncle. May you soar with the eagles. </p>
<p>Aunty Ruby be happy to see you. </p>
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<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/strength-from-perpetual-grief-how-aboriginal-people-experience-the-bushfire-crisis-129448">Strength from perpetual grief: how Aboriginal people experience the bushfire crisis</a>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/187974/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bhiamie Williamson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
In Uncle Archie Roach, we find the most profound sense of an alternate masculinity. It is difficult to put words to this loss.
Bhiamie Williamson, Research Associate & PhD Candidate, Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/162231
2021-06-07T10:02:10Z
2021-06-07T10:02:10Z
The magnificent Mabi Thobejane, master South African drummer
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/404661/original/file-20210606-23-18ew4un.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The late, legendary percussionist Mabi Thobejane pictured in 2018.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">MELT 2000/Forest Jam Southern Africa</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Winter chokes the highveld in Johannesburg, South Africa, and takes from me, from our entire culture, a mighty mountain. <a href="http://www.melt2000.com/thobejane">Gabriel Mabi Segwagwa Thobejane</a>, the diminutive tower of rhythmic power, has left us: a man who did not so much play the drums, but became The Drum. </p>
<p>He <a href="https://sisgwenjazz.wordpress.com">reportedly</a> suffered a stroke at the age of 74 and <a href="http://www.dac.gov.za/content/minister-nathi-mthethwa-passing-internationally-acclaimed-sa-jazz-musician-mabi-gabriel">passed</a> on 3 June 2021. </p>
<p>Even though he was both master and a creator of South Africa’s indigenous sonic archive, Mabi, as we all came to call him, was also a showman and a collaborator. He could and would play in support of almost anyone, from jazz musicians to poets to mainstream artists. He was artistically intimidated by nothing and no one.</p>
<h2>The young Gabriel</h2>
<p>Mabi was raised in the township of <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/place/mamelodi">Mamelodi</a> near the capital city Pretoria, where he absorbed the rural, neo-traditional, urban folk and <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/article/pedi">Sepedi</a> jive drum and dance-song forms that commingled in the streets and backyards.</p>
<p>The <a href="http://www.melt2000.com/thobejane">young Gabriel</a> had no calling to blow his horn in a church and defied his mother who insisted he become a priest. Her tendency to break up his makeshift drum kits led him to hang about the tanneries and artisanal workshops, collecting materials he fashioned into high-quality hand and mallet drums for which he later became so famous. From early on, Mabi pursued whatever “arrested” (<em>bopha</em>!) him full force without equivocation or compromise. And he was to serve a life sentence in the total reinvention of the highveld’s African percussion.</p>
<p>This single-minded pursuit of a fading musical patrimony from the ancestors ran in the family. Gabriel’s uncle <a href="https://theconversation.com/philip-tabane-the-african-musical-genius-who-played-for-the-spirit-96931">Philip Thabane</a> was already doing so on the electric guitar, forming the <a href="https://herri.org.za/2/percy-mabandu/">Malombo Jazzmen</a> with flautist <a href="http://www.theorbit.co.za/abbey-cindi/">Abbey Cindi</a> and afro-percussionist <a href="http://www.thepresidency.gov.za/national-orders/recipient/julian-sebothane-bahula">Julian Bahula</a> in the 1960s. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Mabi Thobejane in 1995 in Johannesburg, assembled by Forest Jam Southern Africa.</span></figcaption>
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<p>Philip’s uncompromising indigenous originality led to a break-up. Before the end of the decade Abbey, Julian, guitarist <a href="https://sisgwenjazz.wordpress.com/2016/11/07/in-memoriam-lucky-madumetja-ranku-1941-2016/">Lucky Ranku</a> and mbaqanga vocalist <a href="https://www.gov.za/about-government/hilda-tloubatla-1942">Hilda Tloubatla</a> had reformed as the Malombo Jazz Makers. For Philip, only one young performer made the grade: Gabriel Thobejane. They went on to gain local success and world fame as the duo <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAs4bvnf8T8">Malombo</a>.</p>
<h2>The power of Malombo</h2>
<p>Given the extent of his contribution and influence, there is pitifully little written about my former bandmate Mabi. In my <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/I/bo5867457.html">book</a> <em>In Township Tonight! South Africa’s Black City Music and Theatre</em> I wrote about Malombo:</p>
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<p>This duo revolutionised progressive indigenous music in South Africa from 1965 to 1977. Their first recording appeared in 1968, and in 1971, Philip and Gabriel travelled to the United States where they appeared at clubs and concerts around the country for two years, playing with Miles Davis, Max Roach, Pharoah Sanders, McCoy Tyner, and other first rank jazz musicians … In 1973 (they) returned home to perform for and learn from their own people in the Transvaal townships.</p>
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<p>Malombo’s 1976 album <a href="https://www.jazzmusicarchives.com/album/malombo/pele-pele-aka-malombo"><em>Pele Pele</em></a> and their 1977 appearance at the New York Newport Jazz Festival continued to build their international reputation. Their recordings, I wrote in the book, could not hope to capture the electricity and spellbinding virtuosity of their live performances. I had the privilege of performing with Malombo as a percussionist at many of their South African appearances at the time. I <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/I/bo5867457.html">wrote</a>:</p>
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<p>Philip and Gabriel kept up a constant, almost competitive musical dialogue on guitar, kalimba (hand piano), flute, pennywhistle and drums. The intensity of Philip’s guitar solos and melodic poetic recitation, and Gabriel’s percussive power and dynamics with drums, dance, and ankle rattles kept black and white concertgoers alike jumping and shouting on the edges of their seats. Truly innovative creative departures in black South African music tend to create their own trends and offshoots, and this was certainly true of Malombo. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Mabi Thobejane in Malombo, led by his uncle Philip Tabane.</span></figcaption>
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<p>Mainstream bands such as Sipho Mabuse’s <a href="https://mg.co.za/friday/2021-03-20-harari-a-union-of-music-defiant-politics-and-african-pride/">Harari</a> and later <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/07/14/arts/music/obituary-ray-phiri-dead-graceland-guitarist-stimela.html">Ray Phiri</a>’s Stimela were influenced by Malombo. As were the “alternative” black consciousness ensembles that often included spoken and sung poetry that appeared in the late 1970s, such as Dashiki, led by the soon-to-be-exiled poet and artist <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/lefifi-tladi">Lefifi Tladi</a>, Thabang Masemola’s <a href="http://electricjive.blogspot.com/2010/05/batsumi-brings-sunshine.html">Batsumi</a>, and the <a href="https://www.newframe.com/malopoets-mining-seam-peoples-music/">Malopoets</a>, precursors of rappers like <a href="https://www.africasacountry.com/2014/06/when-adam-haupt-discovered-prophets-of-da-city">Prophets of Da City</a>.</p>
<h2>A musical comrade</h2>
<p>In some ways Mabi Thobejane’s great initial achievement was his ability to partner with the introverted, crusty Philip Thabane for so long. Quite the opposite, Mabi was unsurpassed as a joyful jester and musical comrade. He loved and accepted his unpredictable fellow musos. I witnessed many a musical showdown between Thabane and Thobejane on stage. After a difficult return tour to the US in 1977, they went their separate ways. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=580&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=580&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/404643/original/file-20210606-28272-dvvls9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=580&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The author (left) performing with Malombo.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Courtesy David Coplan</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>By the 1990s Mabi had started to find an outlet for the sounds that had stayed with him from the Bronx. He continued being involved in some of the most exciting collaborations – with bassist <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/sipho-gumede">Sipho Gumede</a> and saxophonist <a href="http://www.theorbit.co.za/khaya-mahlangu/">Khaya Mahlangu</a>, guitar master <a href="https://mg.co.za/article/2018-12-14-00-madala-and-mabi-its-a-thing-that-spans-half-a-century/">Madala Kunene</a>, percussionists <a href="http://www.music.org.za/artist.asp?id=56">Amampondo</a>. For a decade he toured and <a href="https://mg.co.za/article/1997-08-08-thobejane-in-a-trance/">haunted</a> the electronic, eclectic studio sessions with UK act <a href="https://twitter.com/JunoReactor?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor">Juno Reactor</a>, who released the legendary acoustic/electronic percussive remixes of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Crg_pMUBgIs"><em>Conga Fury</em></a>.</p>
<h2>Artist and showman</h2>
<p>Mabi was as much a showman and a performance event as he was a musician. He not only built his own drums, but created his own costumes of beads, antelope and cattle hides and distinctive body paint. Characteristically he would perform stripped to the waist, his face painted half chalk white and half charcoal black, his compact brown torso covered in white spots like a reverse-image leopard. His intention was to conquer his musical world as a drum guerrilla representing himself and his deeper Tshwane origins, without hybridity, without borrowing. And in that guise, what a lender and a collaborator he turned out to be. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-F9uJfVS6zM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">A 2004 recording by the record company MELT 2000.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As a proper <em>morena oa lefatse</em> (king of the earth), Gabriel Mabi Thobejane revealed the inner character of the people of the land in both musical expression and force of personality. He entered so many of our lives in unique modalities that enriched our worlds forever. I cannot do better, before returning to shocked silence at his passing, than to share a new poem by the musical commentator and scholar <a href="https://sala.org.za/sam-mathe/">Sam Mathe</a>. In <em>For Gabriel Mabi Segwagwa Thobejane</em> Mathe refers to Mabi as <em>segwagwa</em>, the frog, the creature he physically resembled that became Philip Thabane’s musical praise name for him:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Segwagwa</p>
<p>The bullfrog that croaks in the streams </p>
<p>and lagoons inhabited by ancestral spirits </p>
<p>the elusive amphibian that greets springs </p>
<p>with the gravel voice and tone of a groaner </p>
<p>Segwagwa </p>
<p>The showman with deft magical hands </p>
<p>whose rumbles are like a distant thunder </p>
<p>The shaman who plays healing sounds </p>
<p>on baobab drums crafted by the gods </p>
<p>Segwagwa </p>
<p>In the south the cold season is upon us </p>
<p>the rains are gone, rivers have dried up </p>
<p>it is time for you to go into hibernation </p>
<p>farewell grandmaster of the percussion </p>
<p>Till we meet again when the rainclouds gather</p>
</blockquote><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/162231/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Coplan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
He did not so much play the drums, as become the drum. His influence was felt through his trailblazing percussive work and his many collaborations.
David Coplan, Professor Emeritus, Social Anthropology, University of the Witwatersrand
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/155120
2021-03-19T01:02:02Z
2021-03-19T01:02:02Z
Galup theatrical walking tour recalls the dancing and violence of the colonial encounter
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390308/original/file-20210318-21-89w2t9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=18%2C15%2C2017%2C1348&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Ian Wilkes leads a Galup evening tour. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Grant</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: Galup, by Ian Wilkes and Poppy van Oorde-Grainger, Perth Festival with Same Drum and Performing Lines.</em></p>
<p><a href="https://www.perthfestival.com.au/events/galup/">Galup</a> is a “theatricalised” walking tour created by Ian Wilkes and Poppy van Oorde-Grainger. The artists’ aim is <a href="https://www.reconciliation.org.au/truth-telling-and-reconciliation/">truth-telling</a>, to restore memories of the First Australians and their early contact with white settlers beside Lake Monger, Perth.</p>
<p>Tales of hunting, of spear throwing, of Noongar warrior Yagan, and of visitors from distant Aboriginal lands have been <a href="https://uwap.uwa.edu.au/products/shaking-hands-on-the-fringe-negotiating-the-aboriginal-world-at-king-george-s-sound">told before</a>, but are not well known.</p>
<p>The Noongar name for the lake is Galup, or place of the fires. It was used as a campsite, with ready food and fresh water. Today it is a popular reserve.</p>
<p>At the core of Wilkes’ one-man guided tour is the 1833 meeting between local Noongar (including Yagan) and two Aboriginal men — Gyallipert and Manyat — who had <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Tiffany-Shellam/publication/304637159_Manyat%27s_%27Sole_Delight%27_Travelling_Knowledge_in_Western_Australia%27s_Southwest_1830s/links/5f73dc4b299bf1b53efff02e/Manyats-Sole-Delight-Travelling-Knowledge-in-Western-Australias-Southwest-1830s.pdf">undertaken an epic journey</a> by tall ship from the southern coast to visit their northern peers.</p>
<p>Yagan attended the meeting, despite the fact he’d recently been declared an Imperial outlaw for his defence of Noongar sovereignty. Not long afterwards, he was murdered by white shepherds further up the Swan River.</p>
<p>Yagan’s death is an especially grotesque colonial incident. His head was souvenired for display in the United Kingdom. His remains were repatriated in 1997. Wilkes was one of those who <a href="https://www.noongarculture.org.au/yagan/">welcomed Yagan back to Noongar <em>boodja</em> (land)</a> through dance.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/part-escape-room-part-choose-your-own-adventure-the-whodunit-whistleblower-has-the-audience-at-its-heart-154271">Part escape room, part choose-your-own adventure, the whodunit Whistleblower has the audience at its heart</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A rarely told massacre</h2>
<p>One story about Lake Galup is rarely told. It is about the massacre that began when mounted troopers rode into a Noongar camp and opened fire. Those who could ran to the lake and hid, slipping away at night. The closing sequence of Galup features Noongar elder Doolann Leisha Eatts telling this story by the campfire.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="people sitting around campfire" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390309/original/file-20210318-13-1w5tvpy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The story of a massacre is told around the campfire, at the site where it happened.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan Grant</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Lake Monger massacre is not listed on the Newcastle University <a href="https://c21ch.newcastle.edu.au/colonialmassacres/map.php">Colonial Frontier Massacre map</a>, though two comparable attacks have been recorded that were launched to <a href="https://c21ch.newcastle.edu.au/colonialmassacres/detail.php?r=885">demonstrate colonial military superiority</a> and as <a href="https://c21ch.newcastle.edu.au/colonialmassacres/detail.php?r=884">reprisals for killing sheep</a>.</p>
<p>Galup is restricted to 15 spectators per night, giving it an intimate social ambience that begins convivially. Wilkes tells us we are moving into a dual time. The artists are explicit in their goal for this as an activist work; they hope to <a href="https://www.samedrum.com/galup">erect a memorial</a> in the future. One must not therefore get lost in the past. One must hold these experiences in the present.</p>
<p>Wilkes introduces one of the many characters he plays, both white and Black, as the son of a white settler and a Noongar woman. The settler hid the woman from pursuers at his hut, and came to love her — or so the son hopes.</p>
<p>Wilkes takes on these and other roles with a light grace. He gently alters his bearing and intonation — these are not the deep alterations of “<a href="https://www2.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion/sight-sound-magazine/features/deep-focus/birth-method-revolution-american-acting">method actors</a>” like Marlon Brando, Dustin Hoffman and company. Gestures lie upon the body, rather than transforming it. The boundary between Wilkes playing various characters or being an anonymous guide are therefore fluid.</p>
<p>Wilkes delivers much of his speech in Noongar. Spectators may not retain the utterances themselves, but Wilkes makes the performance an act of affective gifting. Understandings are shared even if the precise grammar is not unpacked.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/articulation-of-womens-rage-slow-burn-together-and-its-haunting-of-women-dancers-154270">'Articulation of women’s rage': Slow Burn, Together and its haunting of women dancers</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Give and take</h2>
<p>Gyallipert and Manyat <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=Y-SGDAAAQBAJ&lpg=PA128&ots=X4_9g_53bq&dq=Gyallipert%20and%20Manyat%20whites%20played%20piano.&pg=PA128#v=onepage&q=Gyallipert%20and%20Manyat%20whites%20played%20piano.&f=false">reportedly attended a dinner where the civil commissioner’s wife played piano</a> for them. They were said to have reciprocated with song and dance.</p>
<p>Wilkes teaches those on the tour a Noongar song of walking. Later we come across a piano, and like Gyallipert and Manyat, Wilkes teaches us dances including that of the rainbow serpent (<em>waugul</em>) whose snaking journeys above and below the ground produced Lake Galup and its underground water sources.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="people walking outside together and smiling" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390311/original/file-20210318-15-106tt98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The tone of the show is intimate and social.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan Grant</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/black-drop-effect-review-infusing-the-present-moment-with-layers-of-the-past-129785">Black Drop Effect review: infusing the present moment with layers of the past</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>We try our hand at spear throwing, and Wilkes elects me to play Gyallipert. It is, for me as a <em>wadjela</em> or white man, an embarrassing honour to be dressed in his gorgeous kangaroo skin cloak. Unlike Gyallipert, I have no cloak or weapons to gift back. </p>
<p>Snippets of language and history are offered throughout, sometimes with audience participation. We receive biscuit rations as the Noongar did. Now, as then, the portions are meagre.</p>
<p>Wilkes mourns on behalf of his ancestors, “What are we Noongar to do, now all our <em>birdiya</em>, all our leaders, are dead?”</p>
<p>Yet, there is grace here. The dominant characteristic of the performance is one of openness. There is space to ponder. Listening to the dual narrative of survival and dispossession, I was struck by how encroached-upon the reserve is today. At one point Wilkes moves through a pair of poplar trees. Unlike the thin line of gums earlier on the trail, these trees are signs of colonial conquest.</p>
<p>Where we throw spears, I notice barely perceptible marks where someone has illegally driven a vehicle. Lake Galup is hemmed in by neat suburban housing. It is far from “wild”, though its waters still sustain game.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/where-are-you-really-from-the-harsh-realities-of-afro-aussie-life-are-brought-to-stage-in-black-brass-156110">'Where are you really from?' The harsh realities of Afro-Aussie life are brought to stage in Black Brass</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Beginning a full accounting</h2>
<p>Survival and resistance in these circumstances is fraught. Social conditions and the high value placed by nearby householders on neatly maintained lawns — irrigated by underground water we steal from the <em>waugal</em> below — work against the development of an improved relationship with Noongar <em>boodja</em> and its peoples.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="People walk alongside lake, city buildings" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390312/original/file-20210318-17-uwenbr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Lake Galup is far from ‘wild’, surrounded by urban housing and facing the city buildings.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan Grant</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The episodic structure of Galup renders it a thoughtful if uneven experience. The massacre story does not develop out of preceding action, and it is a jarring conclusion for a work that doesn’t seem to be aiming for tragedy.</p>
<p>A full accounting of the histories of contact between First Nations people and white settlers, of singing together at the piano, of dancing, as well as violence and murder, has yet to become central to our national memory. Galup and works like it may change this.</p>
<p><em><a href="https://www.perthfestival.com.au/events/galup/">Galup</a> is part of the Perth Festival, running until March 20.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/155120/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jonathan W. Marshall does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Artists Ian Wilkes and Poppy van Oorde-Grainger invite audiences to walk where the first contact between Noongar and white settlers at Lake Monger took place.
Jonathan W. Marshall, Postgraduate Research Coordinator, Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, Edith Cowan University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/144065
2020-08-17T20:12:13Z
2020-08-17T20:12:13Z
Looky Looky Here Comes Cooky: the ‘view from the shore’ told through songlines, with generosity
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353086/original/file-20200817-22-wj6g9y.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C8%2C2820%2C1326&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Steven Oliver on location at Kurnell, NSW, in the film.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">SBS</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: Looky Looky Here Comes Cooky, screening at the Melbourne International Film Festival and on NITV and SBS Viceland.</em></p>
<p>This year marks the <a href="https://theconversation.com/explorer-navigator-coloniser-revisit-captain-cooks-legacy-with-the-click-of-a-mouse-137390">250th anniversary of Captain Cook’s first landing</a> on the east coast and his claim of territory for the British Empire. Like most scheduled events of 2020, commemorations of this milestone were scuttled by the pandemic. </p>
<p>For some, the cancellation of Cook events relieved a simmering trepidation. But many Aboriginal communities had worked hard to consider their engagement in the 250-year commemoration and communicate the “view from the shore” among themselves and to wider audiences. </p>
<p>The film <a href="https://2020.miff.com.au/film/looky-looky-here-comes-cooky-special-preview-screening/">Looky Looky Here Comes Cooky</a>, directed by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2341237/?ref_=tt_ov_wr">Steven McGregor</a>, canvasses Indigenous Australian accounts of, and responses to, Captain Cook’s arrival. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/explorer-navigator-coloniser-revisit-captain-cooks-legacy-with-the-click-of-a-mouse-137390">Explorer, navigator, coloniser: revisit Captain Cook’s legacy with the click of a mouse</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>The length of the east coast</h2>
<p>Sweeping coastline shots remind us of the changing landscape away from the buttery sandstone cliffs of Dharawal country at that place Kamay, which Cook renamed Stingray Bay and we now call Botany Bay. </p>
<p>Host <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm6460320/">Steven Oliver</a> – known previously as an actor and as creator of comedy sketch show <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3697996/?ref_=nm_ov_bio_lk3">Black Comedy</a> (2014) – guides us the length of the east coast. </p>
<p>At La Perouse we hear the testimony of Dharawal elder and intellectual <a href="https://www.burraga.org/governance-2">Shayne Williams</a> and Aboriginal Land Council chair <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/national/nsw/we-re-still-here-250-years-after-cook-landing-aboriginal-community-reflects-20200428-p54nzb.html">Noeleen Timberry</a>, whose family were witnesses in 1770. We journey through to the Torres Strait, where the story of the planting of a stick and cloth at so called Possession Island is disputed. </p>
<iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FSBSVICELAND%2Fvideos%2F654813665137988%2F&show_text=0&width=476" width="100%" height="476" style="border:none;overflow:hidden" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" allowtransparency="true" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/black-drop-effect-review-infusing-the-present-moment-with-layers-of-the-past-129785">Black Drop Effect review: infusing the present moment with layers of the past</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Along the way, artists yarn, dance, slam and sing on a specially created “<a href="https://www.commonground.org.au/learn/songlines">songline</a>”. Songlines are not just oral histories or “anthropological footnotes”, Oliver reminds us. They </p>
<blockquote>
<p>tell the real story in different, but essentially complementary ways; to really belong you’ve got to embrace the songlines. They are the story of this land. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Singer <a href="https://www.kevcarmody.com.au/">Kev Carmody</a> narrates the movements of warriors organising in his ballad of Multuggerah, a resistance leader and warrior of the Darling Downs. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.mojojuju.net/">Mo’Ju</a> sings of a medicine woman with predictive powers who “can see them coming from far away, I know that they are bringing us pain”. </p>
<p>Rapper <a href="https://badapplesmusic.com.au/artist/birdz/">Birdz</a> imagines a moment</p>
<blockquote>
<p>standing on the shoreline, Cook man coming, Patiently waiting for someone I haven’t seen before, They say they came in peace. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>While <a href="https://www.maupower.com/">Mau Power</a> vocalises “anger and loss, pain and hurt”. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=21%2C12%2C2823%2C1282&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Man stands of beach, points at camera." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=21%2C12%2C2823%2C1282&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=347&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=347&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/352870/original/file-20200814-14-1apgpob.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=347&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mau Power on location in North Queensland.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">SBS</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A more truthful engagement</h2>
<p>The voices in Looky Looky offer the possibility of a different Australia with a more truthful engagement with its history. </p>
<p>At one point Oliver declares, “Uncle Jimmy James [Cook] sailed up the north coast, no shame, naming places that all the way along the coast”. </p>
<p>Cook pubs, Cook streets, roads, parks, bridges and even a university reveal an enduring mark. </p>
<p>Calling in at the Captain Cook Hotel, Oliver feels duty bound to order the kitchen’s “special”, <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/nitv/article/2019/02/14/how-foolish-rumour-hawaiians-ate-cook-began">a macabre joke</a> not lost on Indigenous peoples of the Pacific. It is a Captain Cook steak (on ciabatta). </p>
<p>There is arguably greater generosity about the Cook story now than there was when the bicentenary was celebrated. The current NSW State Library exhibition <a href="https://www.sl.nsw.gov.au/exhibitions/eight-days-kamay">Eight Days in Kamay</a> includes 1970 footage from the counter-commemoration protest of poet <a href="https://www.poetrylibrary.edu.au/poets/noonuccal-oodgeroo">Oodgeroo Noonuccal</a> in which she recites:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Peace was yours Australian man with tribal laws you made, till white colonial stole your peace with rape and murder raid … they shot and poisoned and enslaved, until a scattered few, only a remnant now remain, and the heart dies in you. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Also featured is activist and Aboriginal Legal Service co-founder <a href="https://australian.museum/learn/first-nations/sydney-elders/paul-coe/">Paul Coe</a>, who then challenged the crowd: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>… the only way you are going to get anywhere is to come out and demand your rights, showing that you want your rights, not begging. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>But in Looky Looky, Guugu Yimithirr Traditional Owner and Bama Historian <a href="https://www.nla.gov.au/digital-classroom/senior/Cook/Indigenous-Response">Alberta Hornsby</a> explains Cook didn’t know he was looking at a nation of peoples who had scientists, lore, language. Eventually, she says, he did develop an admiration for her people. </p>
<p>Hornsby reminds us of the resolution of a dispute over stolen harvests by Cook’s men, who had broken the lore/law of the land. At this location in far north Queensland, Guugu Yimithirr men conducted a <a href="https://nationaltrustqld.org.au/news/Reconciliation-Rocks">process of reconciliation</a> with Cook and several of his crew, to settle their differences. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/terra-nullius-interruptus-captain-james-cook-and-absent-presence-in-first-nations-art-129688">Terra nullius interruptus: Captain James Cook and absent presence in First Nations art</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Indigenous man sings with guitar" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=279&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=279&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=279&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=351&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=351&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353090/original/file-20200817-24-vksjrw.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=351&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kev Carmody tells a warrior tale near Table Top Mountain, Queensland.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">SBS</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Being seen</h2>
<p>Hornsby and Shayne Williams are strong voices throughout the film. Both speak of the complexity of commemorating Cook while acknowledging our own people and history.</p>
<p>As Hornsby says: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>I do have respect for Captain Cook, but I have far greater respect for my ancestors. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Williams adds: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>If we’re going to move forward let’s own our history. The time has come to make ourselves visible again. We’re the only ones who can do that. Australian history and Aboriginal history, are synonymous. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Oliver enlivens songlines to connect people over Country with his earnest blend of engaging humour and bold fact. Within the pastiche of animation, dance, poetry and interviews, it is the generously offered reflections about commemoration, past and present that provide the most compelling elements. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-death-on-the-darling-colonialisms-final-encounter-with-the-barkandji-114275">Friday essay: death on the Darling, colonialism’s final encounter with the Barkandji</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Singer Mo'Ju stands on a busy street." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353088/original/file-20200817-20-1cwzn7u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Not just a coastal story. Mo'Ju on location in Coburg, Melbourne.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">SBS</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Any commemoration of the British claim to the territory of Australia that unleashed loss and disruption on an unrelenting scale, is fraught. Looky Looky is part comedy, part a tale of survival and resistance, part poetry and dance. </p>
<p>The intention of the songlines as narrative is powerful, but the most disruptive forces are the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices who are working through ways to carry stories of the past gently but firmly into the present. </p>
<p>The film is worth watching as one contribution to the commemoration of white settlement made difficult by unyielding historical narratives and experience of disadvantage. Much more work is still needed. </p>
<p><em>MIFF is <a href="https://miff.com.au/">online</a> until 23 August 2020. Looky Looky Here Comes Cooky will be simulcast on NITV and SBS VICELAND on Thursday 20 August at 8.30pm.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/144065/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Heidi Norman receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Jennifer Newman contributed to the writing of this review.</span></em></p>
A new film canvasses Indigenous Australian accounts of, and responses to, Captain Cook’s arrival.
Heidi Norman, Professor, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, University of Technology Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/137247
2020-04-28T05:19:56Z
2020-04-28T05:19:56Z
Together we rise: East Arnhem Land artists respond to COVID-19 with the gift of music
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330653/original/file-20200427-145499-y9vme2.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C42%2C4007%2C2094&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu sings. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.facebook.com/VisitEastArnhemLand/photos/a.311490989046835/1431484573714132/?type=3&theater">Facebook/Yolŋu Radio</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Recent weeks have been a blur of livestreams as politicians and chief medical officers have taken to Facebook and YouTube to announce Australia’s emergency measures to contain the COVID-19 pandemic. </p>
<p>But on Saturday evening, I eagerly logged onto Facebook, along with more than 50,000 others, to enjoy a livestream of an entirely different kind. It was the first in a series of four <a href="https://www.eastarnhemland.com.au/east-arnhem-live">East Arnhem Live</a> music concerts to be streamed weekly.</p>
<p>It not only offers a welcome respite from the social isolation many Australians are now feeling, but it is also an ingenious way for Arnhem Land’s prolific musicians to share their music with audiences around the world.</p>
<h2>On location</h2>
<p>The Northern Territory’s Arnhem Land is home to dozens of remote Indigenous communities, including the <a href="https://doi-org.proxy.library.adelaide.edu.au/10.1111/1467-9655.00024">Yolŋu communities</a> in the far northeast. While there are presently no known cases of COVID-19 in Arnhem Land, the region’s economic stability relies heavily on artists’ income, which is greatly supported by local tourism during the dry season and international touring to festivals all year round.</p>
<p>Streamed on Saturday, April 24 and still available <a href="https://www.eastarnhemland.com.au/east-arnhem-live">online</a>, the first East Arnhem Live concert featured singer <a href="https://www.eastarnhemland.com.au/blog/eight-east-arnhem-land-artists-to-add-to-your-playlist">Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu</a>, the current frontman of rock band Yothu Yindi, with Arian Pearson on acoustic guitar. To showcase Arnhem Land’s natural beauty, the concert was filmed on location at <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/BgrvMi9dobH3478Z8">Gälaru (East Woody Beach)</a> against the sun setting over the Arafura Sea, and incorporated stunning aerial cinematography of Dhamitjinya (East Woody Island).</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">East Arnhem Live with Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu and Arian Pearson.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Facebook</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>At a length of four songs over 14 minutes, it was a tantalisingly brief event that left me wanting more. It stirred deep nostalgia for my own experiences in Arnhem Land over the past 25 years and long collaborations with local musicians there.</p>
<p>Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu’s four-song set exemplified the very best of Yolŋu songwriting, building significantly on the heavy traditional influences of the style developed by Yothu Yindi around 1990. The influence of Manikay, the ancestral song tradition performed by Yolŋu communities in their public ceremonies, is ever-present in Yirrŋa’s own songs. This is evidenced by the <em>bi<u>l</u>ma</em> (paired sticks) he played throughout the concert.</p>
<p>With no more than a few hundred senior Yolŋu Manikay singers alive today, the present threat of COVID-19 brings into sharp relief the rarity and uniqueness of Manikay as a quintessentially Australian musical tradition. This is indeed a national treasure of global significance that deserves to be better supported and cherished in Australia and globally.</p>
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<h2>An anthem for our time</h2>
<p>The concert’s opening song was Sweet Arnhem Land, a balladic ode to the region’s immense beauty that includes a direct quote from the Manikay repertoire of Yirrŋa’s clan, the Gumatj. This Manikay quotation references the great ancestral hunter, Ganbulapula, and its melody should be instantly recognisable to anyone who has attended the Garma Festival and experienced public ceremonial repertoire being performed there by the Gumatj clan.</p>
<p>The second song was a cover of Kind of Life, which was first released by Yothu Yindi on the 1991 Tribal Voice album. It was a fitting homage to earlier pioneers of popular music from Arnhem Land, such as Wi<u>t</u>iyana Marika and the late Mandawuy Yunupiŋu AC of Yothu Yindi, who were the first to gain global acclaim.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/my-favourite-album-yothu-yindis-tribal-voice-83643">My favourite album: Yothu Yindi's Tribal Voice</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The third song, We Rise, is nothing short of an anthemic triumph. Its stirring sentiment of solidarity in the face of great change and adversity will readily resonate with many Australians at this challenging time. </p>
<p>Yirrŋa’s final song, Ba<u>n</u>umbirr (Morning Star), pays respect to his mother’s clan, the Rirratjiŋu. Once again, it includes a direct quote from traditional Manikay repertoire, which this time comes from the Rirratjiŋu clan’s iconic Morning Star song series.</p>
<p>With more than 53,000 views on Facebook since Saturday night, this first East Arnhem Live concert has been an outstanding success. While I greatly look forward to the day when I can fly to Arnhem Land again to see dear friends and hear music there in person, this concert series is a most welcome substitute that offers an unexpectedly intimate and poignant experience. And it shares the great beauty of Yolŋu song against the backdrop of the natural environment from which it sprung.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-how-indigenous-songs-recount-deep-histories-of-trade-between-australia-and-southeast-asia-123867">Friday essay: how Indigenous songs recount deep histories of trade between Australia and Southeast Asia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Tradition and innovation</h2>
<p>The Yolŋu people have long engaged with new technologies while retaining their own sense of autonomy. This latest innovation in streaming concerts via social media platforms is in keeping with their pre-colonial exchanges with visiting Asian seafarers. </p>
<p>It was this same longitudinal dialogue between tradition and innovation that made the music of bands like Yothu Yindi possible.</p>
<p>Musicians Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu and Arian Pearson are to be congratulated heartily for this first East Arnhem Live concert, as are the series’ presenters at ARDS Aboriginal Corporation and Yolŋu Radio, and sponsors at Rirratjiŋu Aboriginal Corporation and Developing East Arnhem. </p>
<p>The next three Saturday nights promise to be equally special with unmissable concerts by the Andrew Gurruwiwi Band on May 2 and Yirrmal Marika on May 9, and an unprecedented closing stream of traditional ceremony by the Rirratjiŋu clan on May 16.</p>
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<hr>
<p><em>The next three East Arnhem Live concerts will stream on the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/VisitEastArnhemLand/">East Arnhem Land Facebook page</a> at 6.30 pm ACST on Saturday, May 2, May 9 and May 16.</em></p>
<p><em>Charles Darwin University’s <a href="http://learnline.cdu.edu.au/yolngustudies/gupaappdownload.html">Gupapuyŋu App</a> provides a Yolŋu language pronunciation guide that is free to download.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/137247/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Readers are advised that this article names a deceased founding member of Yothu Yindi with all traditional Yolŋu mortuary restrictions having been lifted by his family long ago. Aaron Corn receives funding from the Australian Research Council and is a Director of the not-for-profit National Recording Project for Indigenous Performance in Australia. Aaron Corn explores the music of Yothu Yindi in his book, Reflections & Voices (2009), published by Sydney University Press.</span></em></p>
A series of four live-streamed concerts from Arnhem Land offers a welcome break from bad news and a way for Indigenous musicians to share their talents with the world.
Aaron Corn, Professor, Elder Conservatorium of Music · Director, Centre for Aboriginal Studies in Music (CASM) · Director, National Centre for Aboriginal Language and Music Studies (NCALMS), Faculty of Arts, University of Adelaide
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/123573
2020-01-02T16:25:22Z
2020-01-02T16:25:22Z
Indigenous song keepers reveal traditional ecological knowledge in music
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/297782/original/file-20191019-56215-4b5knq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C162%2C2248%2C1816&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The keeper of hundreds of Kwakwaka’wakw songs, Kwaksistalla Wathl’thla (Clan Chief Adam Dick), chanting at a feast (qui’las) with Mayanilh (Dr. Daisy Sewid-Smith). </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Bert Crowfoot)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Since the beginning of time, music has been a way of communicating observations of and experiences about the world. For Indigenous Peoples who have lived within their traditional territories for generations, music is a repository of ecological knowledge, with songs embedding ancestors’ knowledge, teachings and wisdom. </p>
<p>The music carries the word of the ancestors across time, transmitting key knowledge from deep in our sacred memory. Academics are just beginning to see the deep significance of these songs and the knowledge they carry and some are working with Indigenous collaborators to unlock their teachings.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296574/original/file-20191010-188819-17iz6s9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296574/original/file-20191010-188819-17iz6s9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296574/original/file-20191010-188819-17iz6s9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296574/original/file-20191010-188819-17iz6s9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296574/original/file-20191010-188819-17iz6s9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=580&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296574/original/file-20191010-188819-17iz6s9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=580&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296574/original/file-20191010-188819-17iz6s9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=580&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://theconversation.com/ca/topics/focus-truth-and-reconciliation-in-canada-77341">Click here for more articles in our ongoing series about the TRC Calls to Action.</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>At the same time, non-Indigenous researchers and the general public are becoming aware of the historic and current loss of songs. Indigenous communities are also grappling with what this means. The loss of songs was brought on by <a href="https://doi.org/10.18584/iipj.2014.5.3.3">brought on by</a> colonization, <a href="https://digitalcommons.unl.edu/historyfacpub/20/">forced enrollment</a> <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0094582X12447274">in residential schools</a> and the passing of the last of the traditionally trained knowledge holders and song keepers. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=611&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=611&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304297/original/file-20191128-178107-1txjme0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=611&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Here in 2014, Coral Napangardi Gallagher and Tess Napalajarri Ross, two Warlpiri women, from Yuendumu, central Australia, perform a mimetic dance on their knees. They are depicting a scene from a song about a child who attempts to take seed paste from a coolamon but is fought off by the mother as she grinds the seeds.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Margaret Carew)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Time-honoured global traditions</h2>
<p>A recent special issue of the <em><a href="https://bioone.org/journals/journal-of-ethnobiology/volume-39/issue-3">Journal of Ethnobiology</a></em> celebrates the power of traditional songs as storehouses of traditional ecological knowledge. </p>
<p>Nine articles are rich accounts of Indigenous Peoples’ time-honoured music-making traditions. These range from <a href="https://doi.org/10.2993/0278-0771-39.3.354">women’s songs relating to wild seeds in Australia</a>, to <a href="https://doi.org/10.2993/0278-0771-39.3.409">improvisational singing traditions in Siberia</a>, to the <a href="https://doi.org/10.2993/0278-0771-39.3.425">use of turtle shell rattles</a> across the United States and the <a href="https://doi.org/10.2993/0278-0771-39.3.460">hunting songs of Amazonian hunter-gatherers</a>. </p>
<p>Although traditional music is threatened by past government-sanctioned actions and laws, with much already lost, Indigenous Peoples globally continue to use music in sacred and ritual contexts and celebrate their traditional songs. </p>
<p>The lyrics in traditional songs are themselves imbued with meaning and history. Traditional songs often encode and model the proper, respectful way for humans, non-humans and the natural and supernatural realms to interact and intersect. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/300936/original/file-20191108-194656-12ve5k7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/300936/original/file-20191108-194656-12ve5k7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300936/original/file-20191108-194656-12ve5k7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300936/original/file-20191108-194656-12ve5k7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300936/original/file-20191108-194656-12ve5k7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300936/original/file-20191108-194656-12ve5k7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300936/original/file-20191108-194656-12ve5k7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A Tsimane’ woman in Bolivian Amazonia playing a handmade wooden violin. Violins came to the Tsimane’ through contact with missionaries. Today, some Tsimane’ play the violin while singing traditional songs, illustrating the adaptive nature of Indigenous music.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Álvaro Fernández-Llamazares)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For instance, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/682812?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">among the Temiar singers of the Malaysian rainforest</a> — who often receive their songs in dreams from deceased people and who believe all living beings are capable of having “personhood” — dream-songs help mediate peoples’ relationships with these other beings. </p>
<p>In many Indigenous cultures, songs recount detailed biocultural knowledge that sits in specific places and thus can also document rights to, and responsibilities for, traditional territories.</p>
<h2>Inspired by potlatch speaker</h2>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=786&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=786&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=786&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=987&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=987&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304154/original/file-20191127-112531-wrtbrn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=987&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla singing the starfish song.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Randy Bouchard)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The special issue was inspired by <a href="https://www.kwaxsistalla.org/">Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla Clan Chief Adam Dick</a>.
Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla was a trained Clan Chief, held four <em>pa’sa</em> chieftain seats, and among many other roles, was the keeper of hundreds of songs about the Kwakwaka’wakw people, their traditional territory in coastal British Columbia, and <a href="https://books.google.ca/books/about/Kwakiutl_Ethnography.html?id=VvWOQgAACAAJ&redir_esc=y">all aspects of their lives and their ritual world</a>. </p>
<p>In his role as <em>ninogaad</em> (culturally trained specialist), Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla was the last culturally trained potlatch speaker. The cultural practice of potlatching is a central organizing structure of northern Northwest Coast peoples. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Xr2-OIyFSJs?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Potlatch explanation, from ‘Smoke From His Fire,’ a film by Oqwilowgwa Kim Recalma-Clutesi.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Potlatching was banned until 1951. As a result, singing potlatch songs was a source of punishment and fear for many generations. The interruption of the transmission of traditional songs in every day and ritual life has been profound. </p>
<h2>Revealed songs</h2>
<p>As one born to nobility and chosen since birth to be a conduit of key cultural knowledge, Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla let us hear the words of his ancestors through the many songs he remembered. </p>
<p>For instance, in 2002, he revealed an ancient <em>ya’a</em> (Dog Children song) that unlocked the mystery of <em>lokiwey</em> (clam gardens) on the Pacific Northwest Coast. Cultivating clams in clam gardens — rock walled terraces in the lower intertidal — is <a href="https://9508ccce-2e7b-4d47-b10c-9b1d4648273b.filesusr.com/ugd/92e8c4_760b8401bf61489284fd1c982f50a4c2.pdf">a widespread practice among Coastal First Nations</a>. We now know this practice <a href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0211194">is at least 3,500 years old</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304147/original/file-20191127-112539-1y645ee.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304147/original/file-20191127-112539-1y645ee.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304147/original/file-20191127-112539-1y645ee.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304147/original/file-20191127-112539-1y645ee.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304147/original/file-20191127-112539-1y645ee.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=598&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304147/original/file-20191127-112539-1y645ee.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=598&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304147/original/file-20191127-112539-1y645ee.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=598&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Author Oqwilowgwa listening to Clan Chief Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla singing at the ‘lokiwey’ (clam garden) where he was secluded as a child at Deep Harbour in the Broughton Archipelago, Northern British Columbia, Canada.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Diane Woods)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla’s sharing of this clam garden song unleashed a <a href="https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1905921116">wave of research on traditional management practices</a> and helped not only awaken people’s understanding of the <a href="https://9508ccce-2e7b-4d47-b10c-9b1d4648273b.filesusr.com/ugd/92e8c4_1879c40de1fd43b7ad450b886ed626f9.pdf">extent to which Indigenous Peoples tended</a> <a href="https://www.mqup.ca/ancient-pathways--ancestral-knowledge-products-9780773543805.php">their landscapes</a>, but also provided the <a href="http://www.clamgarden.com/">foundation for research</a> on how to improve clam management. </p>
<p>Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla went on to mentor and be the primary source on traditional ecological knowledge for over a dozen <a href="https://dspace.library.uvic.ca/handle/1828/3743?show=full">graduate students in ethnobiology and linguistics</a> until his passing last year. <a href="https://dspace.library.uvic.ca//handle/1828/4596">Each graduate thesis</a> had songs from Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla’s <a href="http://dspace.library.uvic.ca:8080/handle/1828/3359?show=full">repertoire as its foundation</a>. </p>
<h2>Song and reconciliation</h2>
<p>Despite the immense global value of traditional songs as libraries of ecological and other cultural knowledge, researchers and the general public have been slow to recognize their social and cultural importance. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=870&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=870&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=870&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1094&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1094&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/304158/original/file-20191127-112512-14zselc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1094&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kwaxsistalla Wathl’thla digging for clams in one of the ‘lokiwey’ (clam gardens) he built and maintained as a child at Deep Harbour in the Broughton Archipelago, northern B.C., Canada.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Dana Lepofsky)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For instance, the findings of Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), highlight the importance of <a href="http://trc.ca/assets/pdf/Calls_to_Action_English2.pdf">protecting and honouring Indigenous languages</a>, but songs are not explicitly mentioned. </p>
<p>The TRC called on called on the federal government, with Aboriginal peoples, to: draft new legislation to commit to sufficient funding to protect Aboriginal peoples’ rights to their languages (Call to Action 10); to acknowledge that Aboriginal rights include Aboriginal language rights, and to seek with urgency to protect Aboriginal languages through an Aboriginal Languages Act and an Aboriginal Languages Commissioner (Calls to Action 13 – 15).</p>
<p>In many Indigenous cultures certain dialects, words and expressions are found only in certain songs, not in spoken conversations. Thus, protecting traditional songs is a critical aspect of protecting Indigenous languages. </p>
<p>The cultural importance of song was not missed by the Government of Canada and the churches who administered residential schools for <a href="http://www.anishinabek.ca/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/An-Overview-of-the-IRS-System-Booklet.pdf">more than a century</a>. They saw all Indigenous language, spoken or sung, as counter to the colonial government’s mission to remove the <a href="http://education.historicacanada.ca/files/103/ResidentialSchools_Printable_Pages.pdf">“savage” from “the Indian children.</a>”</p>
<p>The great uncle of Oqwilowgwa, one of this story’s authors, died from a beating at the residential school in Port Alberni for singing a child’s play song in his language. All music except hymns were strictly banned in residential schools until the 1960s.</p>
<h2>Protecting rights and privileges today</h2>
<p>Recognizing the importance of traditional songs and creating a context to promote this knowledge is fundamental to Canada’s reconciliation process. Speaking at the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s Traditional Knowledge Keepers Forum, <a href="http://www.trc.ca/assets/pdf/Volume_6_Reconciliation_English_Web.pdf">Blackfoot Elder Reg Crowshoe said</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“…So we are looking at finding those true meanings of reconciliation and forgiveness. We need to be aware or re-taught how to access those stories of our Elders, not only stories but songs, practices that give us those rights and privileges to access those stories … ” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Indigenous songs, as detailed bio-cultural archives, are avenues for gaining a more nuanced and complex appreciation of ecosystems, including humans’ place within them. There is not only a moral imperative for protecting traditional songs, but also a practical one. </p>
<p>Such knowledge, as in the case of clam gardens, may provide important lessons about how people today can more respectfully and sustainably interact with our non-human neighbours. In these times of dramatic ecological and social change, honouring and safeguarding traditional songs has never been more important. </p>
<p>[ <em>Deep knowledge, daily.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/ca/newsletters?utm_source=TCCA&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=deepknowledge">Sign up for The Conversation’s newsletter</a>. ]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/123573/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Álvaro Fernández-Llamazares receives funding from the Academy of Finland.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Oqwilowgwa Kim Recalma-Clutesi is affiliated with Ninogaad Knowledge Keepers Foundation.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dana Lepofsky does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Ancestral Indigenous songs often encode territorial responsibilities and rights, such as in relationship with ‘lokiwey’ (coastal clam gardens) on the Pacific Northwest Coast.
Dana Lepofsky, Professor in Archaeology, Simon Fraser University
Álvaro Fernández-Llamazares, Researcher in Ethnecology, Helsinki Institute of Sustainability Science (HELSUS), University of Helsinki
Oqwilowgwa Kim Recalma-Clutesi, Contributor to the special issue on Ethnobiology Through Song/CEO Ninogaad Knowledge Keepers Foundation/Board of Directors APTN
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/123867
2019-11-28T19:09:38Z
2019-11-28T19:09:38Z
Friday essay: how Indigenous songs recount deep histories of trade between Australia and Southeast Asia
<p>In 1983, the prolific Yolŋu (Yolngu) educator and musician, Mandawuy Yunupiŋu, composed his first ever popular song, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqCab1GI7XQ">Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming</a>. A decade later, this song would become an iconic Australian hit as Yunupiŋu’s band, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/YothuYindiTreatyProject/">Yothu Yindi</a>, rose to stardom in the early 1990s.</p>
<p>At a time when other Yolŋu popular bands were emulating imported country and gospel styles, the composition of Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming changed music history. It drew on the <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/39415186?q&versionId=52263252">Manikay</a> tradition, the vast body of public ceremonial songs that were bestowed on Yolŋu clans of northeast Arnhem Land countless generations ago by the original ancestors who named, shaped and populated their homelands.</p>
<p>This revolutionary artistic act initiated an entirely new genre of popular music from Arnhem Land, with Yothu Yindi at its <a href="https://sydneyuniversitypress.com.au/products/78828?_pos=1&_sid=20f67fc44&_ss=r">vanguard</a>, which would build new bridges with audiences worldwide. Yet, unknown to most listeners is that this song echoes long histories of early engagements with Southeast Asian visitors that remain integral to Yolŋu ceremonial law to this day.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/aMX2PrHPXzY?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Music video for Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming (Radio Mix) performed by Yothu Yindi (1992)</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A song of homesickness</h2>
<p>While other early hit songs by Yothu Yindi like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jf-jHCdafZY">Treaty</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uww8qV_lHpU">Mainstream</a> inspire hope for a better future, the mood of Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming is sorrowful. It was composed when Yunupiŋu was working away from home as an Assistant Principal at Shepherdson College in <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/V8LE18C9KGnPTJbd9">Galiwin’ku</a> on Elcho Island in Arnhem Land, while his wife and young children remained on the mainland some 150 kms to the east on the <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/GogHiFAcKYrWnv5j8">Gove Peninsula</a>.</p>
<p>After work one evening, Yunupiŋu sat with his guitar and, in the fading light of the setting sun, channelled his homesickness into song. The lyrics that came to him reminded him of home: <em>warwu</em> (sorrow), <em>djäpana</em> (coral sunset), <em>rräma rrämani</em> (coral sunset clouds), <em>dhurulaŋala galaŋgarri</em> (fading coral sunset). </p>
<p>They affirmed Yunupiŋu’s own deep ancestry through the Gumatj Yolŋu clan and drew on a Gumatj Manikay series of distinct song subjects for the clan’s country of <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/89AuTPDyD8WjEXNz6">Bawaka</a> on Port Bradshaw. The series remembers early Southeast Asian visitors. Specifically, the lyrics were drawn from a terminal song subject from this Manikay series, Djäpana (Coral Sunset).</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4TdRMGS5brA?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">A Gumatj clan Manikay item on subject on the Rräma (Coral Sunset Clouds) performed by Yothu Yindi in 1999.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2><strong>Before the first wave</strong></h2>
<p>The long histories of trade between commercial <em>trepang</em> (sea cucumber) harvesters from the port of <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/bgCjQs6MGKd3nS747">Makassar</a> in the pre-Indonesian Sultanate of Gowa on Sulawesi, and Indigenous Australian peoples of the Kimberley and Arnhem Land coastlines have been widely discussed by scholars since the release of Campbell Macknight’s seminal 1976 book, <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/11340302">The Voyage to Marege’</a>. Articles about this contact in magazines such as <a href="https://press-files.anu.edu.au/downloads/press/p241301/html/ch07.xhtml?referer=&page=9#toc_marker-10">Walkabout</a> appeared as early as 1934.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296669/original/file-20191011-96252-db1pz7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296669/original/file-20191011-96252-db1pz7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296669/original/file-20191011-96252-db1pz7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296669/original/file-20191011-96252-db1pz7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296669/original/file-20191011-96252-db1pz7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296669/original/file-20191011-96252-db1pz7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296669/original/file-20191011-96252-db1pz7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A <em>trepang</em> feeding on gravel in Sydney Aquarium.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Erin Silversmith</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Based on Dutch colonial records from Jakarta dating from 1754, the Makassan <em>trepang</em> industry gained momentum in the 1750s. The trade with trepang harvesters predated British colonial contacts with most local Indigenous Australians by more than 50 years.</p>
<p>This is not a history of British exploration and conquest from the first wave of colonial expansion in Australia. Rather, it is one of lengthy exchanges with Southeast Asian neighbours in Australia’s north that predate the founding of New South Wales as a British Crown Colony in 1788. The exchanges left an enduring legacy that continues to influence language, culture and memory among Indigenous peoples of north Australia.</p>
<p><em>Trepang</em> was a lucrative commodity, and is still sold at a premium throughout East and Southeast Asia. Used in Chinese cooking since the 17th century, it was coveted by Chinese buyers in Makassar both as a culinary delicacy and as a medicinal enhancer of male virility.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296671/original/file-20191011-96226-orqnzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296671/original/file-20191011-96226-orqnzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296671/original/file-20191011-96226-orqnzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296671/original/file-20191011-96226-orqnzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296671/original/file-20191011-96226-orqnzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296671/original/file-20191011-96226-orqnzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296671/original/file-20191011-96226-orqnzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Dried <em>trepang</em> in an Asian market.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Bare Dreamer</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For at least 150 years, Makassan vessels known as <em>perahu</em> sailed to north Australia to harvest <em>trepang</em> from its warm coast waters. They arrived on the northwest monsoon each January, and returned home with hulls full of <em>trepang</em>, pearl shell, beeswax and ironwood around April. </p>
<p>The crews of these vessels were mostly speakers of the Makassan and Bugis languages, but also likely included people of Sama (Bajau), Butonese and other ethnicities. They knew the Kimberley by the name of Kayu Jawa and Arnhem Land as Marege’.</p>
<p>Macknight estimated that at the height of this trade, some 30–60 Makassan vessels carried at least 1,000 sailors from Sulawesi to Arnhem Land each year. In 1803, during their voyage on the HMS Investigator, Matthew Flinders and Robert Brown met a fleet of 60 Makassan vessels off Arnhem Land’s coast and spoke at length with one of their captains, Pobassoo.</p>
<p>Harvesting <em>trepang</em> in Arnhem Land for Asian markets began to ebb in 1884 following the 1883 eruption of <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/AG9WDaoCD5od3ToN9">Krakatoa</a> and the imposition of new taxes upon Makassan vessels landing in the Northern Territory. One final Makassan <em>perahu</em> captained by Otching Daeng Rangka, the Bunga Ejaya, sailed to Arnhem Land in 1906 and its departure in 1907 brought the exchanges to an end.</p>
<h2><strong>Trade and autonomy</strong></h2>
<p>Long before the first Methodist missionaries arrived in northeast Arnhem Land at Milingimbi in 1923, the Yolŋu held extensive knowledge of their Southeast Asian neighbours. Some Yolŋu people even travelled to Makassar and made families with shared Makassan ancestry. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/long-before-europeans-traders-came-here-from-the-north-and-art-tells-the-story-69032">Long before Europeans, traders came here from the north and art tells the story</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Makassan religion, culture, goods and seacraft are recorded in many Yolŋu ceremonies still practised today. In return for rights to harvest their resources, the Yolŋu received goods imported by the Makassans including rice, tamarind, tobacco, alcohol, cloth, axes and knives.</p>
<p>Consequently, Yolŋu languages still retain hundreds of Makassar and Bugis words including <em>rrupiya</em> (money), <em>bandirra</em> (flag), <em>buthulu</em> (bottle), <em>lipalipa</em> (canoe), and <em>baŋ’kulu</em> (axe). Many Yolŋu Manikay series also refer to these historical visitations extensively.</p>
<p>Accordingly, most <a href="https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/handle/1885/109822">Manikay series for the Dha<u>l</u>waŋu clan</a> homeland of <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/JSy71imyvThgKQqf6">Gurrumuru</a> sing of Makassan exchanges through song subjects including <em>yiki’</em> (knife), <em>ŋarali</em>’ (tobacco), <em>manydjarrka</em> (cloth), <em>dhamburru</em> (drum), <em>djuliŋ</em> (flute), <em>dopulu</em> (playing cards), <em>ŋänitji</em> (alcohol), <em>barrundhu</em> (drunken fighting), <em>parrurru</em> (flag), <em>berratha</em> (rice) and <em>watjpalŋa</em> (rooster). <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/39024345?q&versionId=51859059">Other subjects sung by the Warramiri and Gumatj clans</a> include <em>wurramu</em> (a ghost Makassan captain), <em>djakura ga lanytja</em> (kickboxing), <em>waraliny</em> (pipe smoking), <em>wayathul’</em> (scrub fowl), <u>L</u>uŋgurrma (northerly trade wind) and djäpana (coral sunset).</p>
<p><a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/5784862?selectedversion=NBD7313993">Imams accompanied Makassan fleets to Australia</a> and observations of Islamic practices were recorded in Yolŋu ceremonial law. The Wurramu mortuary ceremony, for instance, sings of <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/8489691?q&versionId=21237199">offerings of thanks to Allah</a>.</p>
<p>The Yolŋu elder, <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/39282039?q&versionId=175233609">David Burrumarra MBE</a>, explained that the Makassans’ god was absorbed into Yolŋu ceremonial law as a kind of ancestral <em>mokuy</em> (ghost) called Walitha’walitha after the devotional Islamic recitation, <em>Lā ʾilāha ʾillā llāh</em> (There is no god but God). The purpose of Walitha’walitha in Yolŋu law is to provide an ancestral basis for the existence of foreign peoples beyond Australia’s shores.</p>
<p>Makassan captains were also immortalised in Yolŋu law as ancestral ghosts with the potential for malevolence. This reflected the reality that, while Makassan seafarers imported goods that were useful and desirable to the Yolŋu, their presence could also bring conflict.</p>
<p>The Yolŋu developed an elaborate system of colour-coded flags made from imported cloth that marked beaches owned by different clans where Makassan visitors could land. Used prominently in public ceremonies, these flags remain strongly linked to Yolŋu clan identities to this day.</p>
<p>Yet, Yolŋu ceremonies also record that, whenever Makassan visitors failed to observe Yolŋu law, the country itself would expel them. Many are remembered for meeting unfortunate ends including being chased by swarming bees into a boiling cauldron for cooking <em>trepang</em>, and having their vessels capsized amid torrents of seawater and entrails projected by the <em>trepang</em> themselves.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-dr-joe-gumbula-the-ancestral-chorus-and-how-we-value-indigenous-knowledges-84438">Friday essay: Dr Joe Gumbula, the ancestral chorus, and how we value Indigenous knowledges</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lA97fI7sfsU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Music video for Djiliwirri by Joe Gumbula and Fred Dhamarra<u>n</u>dji performed by Soft Sands (1997).</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the <u>D</u>aygurrgurr Gupapuyŋu clan homeland of <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/bicJ5AfGhcAdStwBA">Djiliwirri</a>, the trespassing Makassan captain, Nuwa, was repelled with such great force that sparks flew down the escarpment creating fires and termite mounds at the wellspring, Buŋu. Gupapuyŋu ceremonies also recount how the ancestor, <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/39332016?q&versionId=52172942">Djunranydjura (Dingo)</a>, refused Makassan offers of trade to remain free from foreign influence.</p>
<p>Women who travelled with foreign crews were also observed. For instance, in the Birrkili Gupapuyŋu clan homeland of <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/XNLt7shrUqfQTWx39"><u>L</u>uŋgutja</a>, a trespassing vessel captained by Bäpa-djambaŋ was unable to weigh anchor and devoured whole by the ancestor, Munduku<u>l</u> (Water Python), in the form of a thunder storm.</p>
<p>Its wreckage is now a coral reef. A young girl who was kept chained in its hold, Wurrathithi, also remains there as an ancestral ghost, watching over <u>L</u>uŋgutja’s waters as she tends to the Gupapuyŋu clan’s recently deceased.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296679/original/file-20191011-96217-10odzms.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/296679/original/file-20191011-96217-10odzms.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=387&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296679/original/file-20191011-96217-10odzms.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=387&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296679/original/file-20191011-96217-10odzms.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=387&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296679/original/file-20191011-96217-10odzms.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296679/original/file-20191011-96217-10odzms.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/296679/original/file-20191011-96217-10odzms.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Birrkili Gupapuyŋu clan homeland of L̲uŋgutja.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Aaron Corn</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2><strong>Reenactment and revival</strong></h2>
<p>In 1986, 10 Aboriginal students from <a href="https://www.batchelor.edu.au/">Batchelor Institute</a> accompanied the historian <a href="http://peopleaustralia.anu.edu.au/biography/spillett-peter-gerald-930">Peter Spillet</a> to Makassar. They were amazed to find many words and images that their own languages and traditional designs had absorbed. Since then, several initiatives have commemorated the long history of Makassan exchanges with Yolŋu communities.</p>
<p>For the Australian Bicentenary of 1988, Spillet commissioned a replica <em>perahu</em> called the <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/164342932?q&versionId=179167833">Hati Marege’</a> (Heart of Arnhem Land) to reenact the old sea voyage from Makassar to Galiwin’ku. Its captain was Mansjur Muhayang, whose late father had been the last surviving crewman to have sailed to Arnhem Land on the Bunga Ejaya in 1906.</p>
<p>In Sydney, the Bicentenary’s reenactment of the 1788 landing of the British First Fleet was met by more than 40,000 protesters for Indigenous rights. Yet, the landing of the Hati Marege’ in Galiwin’ku returned Makassan mariners to Arnhem Land for the first time in 82 years.</p>
<p>The Hati Marege’s crew were greeted by their Yolŋu hosts as family through ceremony. Witnessing their moving arrival even inspired the prolific local band, Soft Sands, to compose a new rock ballad, Land, Our Mother, which captured the warmth of the Hati Marege’s welcome to Galiwin’ku, while simultaneously asserting the enduring rights of the Yolŋu in their ancestral homelands.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7l9EewPtO2w?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Land, Our Mother by Joe Gumbula and Frank Garawirrtja (1988) performed by Soft Sands (2006).</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In 1993, the celebrated Yolŋu artist, <a href="https://news.aboriginalartdirectory.com/2010/05/death-of-john-bulun-bulun.php">John Bulunbulun</a>, led an ensuing visit from Maningrida to Makassar, where he directed a three-night Marayarr Murrukundja diplomacy ceremony. It involved the creation of an elaborate ceremonial pole that represents the mast and rigging of a Makassan <em>perahu</em>.</p>
<p>Two subsequent initiatives were championed by the noted Indigenous anthropologist, Marcia Langton. The first, <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/158903014">Trepang: An Indigenous Opera</a>, premiered in Makassar in 1997, and reunited an intermarried Yolŋu–Makassan family who had been separated since the Bunga Ejaya’s departure from Arnhem Land in 1907.</p>
<p>The second, the <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/37111139?q&versionId=48216210">Trepang exhibition</a>, opened at the Capital Museum in Beijing in 2011 and explored the historical sale of Australian <em>trepang</em> into China. I was honoured to play <em>yi<u>d</u>aki</em> (didjeridu) for Bulunbulun’s stepson, Paul Pascoe, as he sang Manikay to launch this exhibition.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/airjuPdVwes?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Ochre and Ink (2011) documents the Trepang exhibition.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Such initiatives continue to widen public awareness of the most recent wave of Makassan trade in Arnhem Land (1750–1907). However, the prominence of Southeast Asian contact histories in Yolŋu ceremonies still practised today has never waned, and retains intriguing allusions to even earlier waves of international exchange.</p>
<h2><strong>How far back?</strong></h2>
<p>While we know Southeast Asian trade in northeast Arnhem Land ended in 1907, we do not know when it began or how many different foreign peoples sailed to Australia before 1750. Recent radiocarbon dating in Arnhem Land tells us that a Southeast Asian pottery shard from <a href="http://press-files.anu.edu.au/downloads/press/p116081/html/ch07.xhtml?referer=201&page=11">Groote Eylandt</a> was made as early as 1107, that rock art depicting a <em>perahu</em> in <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/192625366?q&versionId=210730312">Wellington Range</a> was painted before 1664, and that a person of Southeast Asian origin perished at <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/201344280?q&versionId=245020593">Anuru Bay</a> before 1730.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/archaeology-is-unravelling-new-stories-about-indigenous-seagoing-trade-on-australias-doorstep-111528">Archaeology is unravelling new stories about Indigenous seagoing trade on Australia's doorstep</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>It is difficult to know who these early Southeast Asian visitors might have been or why they visited Arnhem Land. Yolŋu ceremonial law is a heterogeneous system incorporating dozens of different clans across northeast Arnhem Land, who maintain their own unique ancestral traditions of ceremonial names, songs, dances and designs.</p>
<p>These traditions encode knowledge in ways that necessitate interpretation by ceremonial leaders and through firsthand experience of specific sacred sites on country. Consequentially, Yolŋu Manikay series that address contact histories typically reference earlier waves of seafaring visitors in cryptic and multilayered ways.</p>
<p><a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/192608343?q&versionId=210708521">Burrumarra</a> recalled that the first wave of foreign visitors were whale, dugong and turtle hunters, who the Yolŋu saw as equals. Unlike the commercially motivated Makassans who arrived much later, they shared the Yolŋu’s dark skin, and came from north(east) of Arnhem Land in dugout sailing canoes.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=379&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=379&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=379&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305069/original/file-20191204-70184-8l49j1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=476&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A humpback whale.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/humpback-whale-jumping-out-water-australia-776180275">Nico Faramaz/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These hunters were followers of Allah. But, like the Yolŋu, they also held ceremonial law for Whale and Octopus, and possessed a colour-coded flag of their own with two horizontal bands of black over white representing their camp at Motatj in the <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/WSW1vcqSqXEWUSUC9">Wessel Islands</a>.</p>
<p>They remain known to the Yolŋu by various names including the Bäpayili, Wurramala, Gelurru and Dhurrutjini. This latter name suggests a Sama origin, as Turijene is a Makassan moniker for the Sama clans who settled in Sulawesi and Kalimantan in the 16th century, and later spread to nearby islands including Lesser Sunda, Maluku and Raja Ampat.</p>
<h2><strong>Coral Sunset</strong></h2>
<p><a href="https://press-files.anu.edu.au/downloads/press/p116081/html/ch17.xhtml?referer=&page=23#toc-anchor">Burrumarra</a> also mentioned an ensuing wave of visitors with distinctive golden skin, who did not harvest <em>trepang</em>, and instead built boats, made pottery, grew rice, dug wells and loomed cloth. They mostly respected the Yolŋu and participated in their ceremonies, yet kept their technological secrets to themselves, which led to conflict and their eventual departure.</p>
<p>The Yolŋu associate this intermediate wave of seafarers with a class of women ancestors known as the Bayini. The Bayini presence at Bawaka informs the sorrowful mood of Gumatj clan Manikay for <em>Djäpana</em> (Coral Sunset), which later imbued Yunupiŋu’s composition of Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming and sparked the creative impetus towards his band, Yothu Yindi.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/my-favourite-album-yothu-yindis-tribal-voice-83643">My favourite album: Yothu Yindi's Tribal Voice</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>At Bawaka, there was a beautiful Bayini woman named Djotarra, who was enslaved by a foreign captain, Gurrumulŋa, in his vessel, the Mätjala. In a recurring theme found in various Yolŋu Manikay series, Djotarra was chained in the Mätjala’s hold and, as it set sail from Bawaka into the <em>djäpana</em> sunset, it stuck a submerged rock in the shallows drowning all aboard.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=17%2C12%2C1171%2C650&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=17%2C12%2C1171%2C650&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302842/original/file-20191121-496-xjrdzp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The island of Binanhaŋay in the waters of Bawaka.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo: Aaron Corn</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Mätjala’s wreckage remains in Port Bradshaw’s waters as the island of Binanhaŋay, while the tragedy of Djotarra serves as another Yolŋu exemplar for exercising caution in dealings with foreigners. This wariness of foreign motivations would also imbue Yunupiŋu’s composition of Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming, which warns, “Don’t be fooled by the Balanda [European] ways”.</p>
<p>Such assertions remain an intrinsic trait of how the Yolŋu understand and negotiate the otherness of foreigners in the contemporary world. They stem from an enduring legacy of extensive engagements with Southeast Asia that long predate the 1788 landing of the British First Fleet in Sydney and continue to affirm the ancestral rights of Indigenous peoples in Australia.</p>
<p></p><hr><p></p>
<p><em>This essay draws on Aaron Corn’s essay with Brian Dja<u>n</u>girrawuy Garawirrtja in <a href="https://www.wakefieldpress.com.au/product.php?productid=1531&cat=12&page=14">The First Wave: Exploring Early Coastal Contact History in Australia</a>
edited by Gillian Dooley and Danielle Clode.</em></p>
<p><em>The <a href="http://learnline.cdu.edu.au/yolngustudies/gupaappdownload.html">Gupapuyŋu App</a> is a free download from Charles Darwin University that provides a Yolŋu language pronunciation guide.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/123867/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aaron Corn receives funding from the Australian Research Council and is a Director of the not-for-profit National Recording Project for Indigenous Performance in Australia.
Aaron Corn explores the music of Yothu Yindi in Reflections & Voices (2009), published by Sydney University Press. </span></em></p>
Yothu Yindi’s music introduced the world to the Yolŋu clan traditions of northeast Arnhem Land. But few listeners know these songs echo long histories of engagement with Southeast Asian visitors.
Aaron Corn, Professor of Music · Director, Centre for Aboriginal Studies in Music (CASM) · Director, National Centre for Aboriginal Language and Music Studies (NCALMS), University of Adelaide
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/115839
2019-04-30T06:14:35Z
2019-04-30T06:14:35Z
It’s time to properly acknowledge - and celebrate - Indigenous composers
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271664/original/file-20190430-194633-6av2c7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Composer William Barton in 2013. Indigenous composers have long been working in the field, but the contribution of Indigenous music and culture to Australian composition deserves greater recognition.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">David Crosling/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Indigenous composers have been around for a long time, with Deborah Cheetham and myself working in composition for some 30 years, Troy Russell for 25 years, and William Barton for 20 years, amongst quite a few others. Many more are now emerging, but most are seldom heard.</p>
<p>This is at odds with the fact that numerous Australian composers have referenced Indigenous music and culture in their works, many of which have received much attention.</p>
<p>Some have used Indigenous melodies or songs, themes or narratives, culture or language in original pieces without appropriate engagements with Indigenous peoples. I call it “Indigenous referencing”: either serious overreaching, or various “lite” appropriations.</p>
<p>Almost 20 years ago, I talked to a leading composer about my heritage and identity, to which he responded “you don’t look it”. In a similar talk with another late composer, he simply talked about “the real ones”. I can personally let go of being dismissed. However, in acknowledgement that there are now many more Indigenous composers, such attitudes need gentle correction.</p>
<p>Admittedly I’m a fair-skinned Koori, but the heritage and identity of any Indigenous person is not the call of anyone, and especially not composers who’ve made a focus on referencing Indigenous culture in their works. This referencing can effectively disempower Indigenous composers. Can we imagine artists doing the same in the art sector?</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-cultural-appropriation-what-not-to-do-86679">Indigenous cultural appropriation: what not to do</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A way forward</h2>
<p>As a composer and Dharug/Eora descendant, I’ve documented the <a href="https://www.australianmusiccentre.com.au/about/NgarraBurria">Ngarra-burria First Peoples Composers program</a>, of which I am the founder, in a new Platform Paper. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=885&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=885&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=885&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1112&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1112&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1112&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I do understand the referencing of Indigenous music and culture by non-Indigenous composers. It makes sense as we collectively seek to understand the evolving Australian identity and our place in this land. In some ways, composers such as Peter Sculthorpe were effectively saying “look to Indigenous peoples”, and there’s a depth in that. </p>
<p>However, there are ways to engage with Indigenous peoples, music and culture that are meaningful for all parties. I recommend going to the source, rather than having Indigenous music filtered through the pen of non-Indigenous composers (genuine partnerships between Indigenous musicians and composers are not what I’m concerned about).</p>
<p>The First Peoples Composers Program aims to develop and support Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander composers working in scored music formats and new music styles. Our goals include composer development, making industry connections, lifting visibility, and exploring new expressions of culture.</p>
<p>My Platform Paper recommends such things as including Indigenous composers when making work that references Indigenous culture and sustaining that relationship over the years. </p>
<p>We should throw core funding at Indigenous composers and not just some kind of special funding, because then it’s real. And become informed about cultural agency, or who has authority over cultural expression. Fred Copperwaite, co-artistic director from our partner Moogahlin Performing Arts talks of “First Peoples first”.</p>
<p>And of course we recommend hanging out with Indigenous people. I worked at the Eora Centre for Aboriginal Visual and Performing Arts Sydney for about 25 years, and noted that no composer from the Sydney University Music Department, which was 300 metres away, ever visited us.</p>
<p>Ultimately this Paper is an opportunity to say Indigenous composers are there: they need support, they deserve profiling, and they will enrich the music sector.</p>
<h2>Artful expressions of culture</h2>
<p>The composers in the <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/classic/new-waves/ngarra-burria-first-peoples-composers/10834456">first Ngarra-burria program of 2016-18</a> – Rhyan Clapham, Brenda Gifford, Tim Gray, Troy Russell and Elizabeth Sheppard – have explored artful ways to articulate their culture.</p>
<p>Troy Russell’s Nucoorilma talks of a real-life foot journey over a great distance that his grandmother took about 100 years ago, to marry a man from another region. She and her family were welcomed into that distant country region/language area by locals. </p>
<p>In his piece, we get the picture that in the old times a “welcome to country” was potent with inherent physical effort, and it sounds in his music. Today it brings meaning for all of us about “welcomes”.</p>
<p>Rhyan Clapham (winner of the Create NSW Peter Sculthorpe Fellowship 2017) engages in language reclamation through his music. </p>
<p>He simply takes four words from his Murrawarri language, assigns them to four instruments, and uses the rhythms and the contours of each word to shape the rhythms and the contours of the musical ideas. He is graciously passing language reclamation into the hands of listeners. </p>
<p>The other composers, too, are eager to be heard and share. And this year we have a new group of another five Indigenous composers. Composer mentors have included Kevin Hunt, Kim Cunio, Deborah Cheetham and me. </p>
<p>Indigenous composers must have a place to be heard, and music organisations and ensembles need to take on part of the responsibility for profiling them. Cultural agency needs to be prioritised, and respectful long-term relationships created with Indigenous parties in any music project. </p>
<p><em>Dr Chris Sainsbury is the author of the new Platform Paper, Ngarra-Burria: New music and the search for an Australian sound, to be launched on May 1 by <a href="https://currencyhouse.org.au/node/279">Currency House</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/115839/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christopher Sainsbury does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Australian composers have long referenced Indigenous music and culture in their works. A new platform paper suggests a more collaborative way forward.
Christopher Sainsbury, Senior Lecturer Composition, Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/91147
2018-02-28T19:17:11Z
2018-02-28T19:17:11Z
The VR film Carriberrie is a vital face-to-face experience of threatened Indigenous culture
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/207606/original/file-20180223-152363-184kfnv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Francis Williams of the Naygayiw Gigi Dance Troupe in a scene from Carriberrie.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Joshua Flavell © Carriberrie Pty Ltd</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Virtual reality technology is making it far easier to connect with remote Indigenous Australians. Carriberrie, a mesmerising 360-degree, live-action documentary film showing at the <a href="https://australianmuseum.net.au/event/virtual-reality-carriberrie?gclid=EAIaIQobChMIhMOy5c-62QIVGdi9Ch1m3QwqEAAYASAAEgJ96_D_BwE">Australian Museum in March</a>, illustrates how well immersive technology can transcend cultural boundaries.</p>
<p>Viewing this 12-minute film, I am teleported to breathtaking Australian locations, from the heart of the outback to the rainforest, drawn in by the hypnotic rhythm of traditional song and dance. Various scenes take you to remote communities, where people share their connection to the land through corroborree – the Aboriginal dance ceremony. “Dance”, the film’s narrator David Gulpilil says, “is the first language of our people.” </p>
<p>Against the backdrop of a pre-dusk sky, I stand among the Anangu women, the traditional owners of Uluru-Kata Tjuta. They stamp their feet into the red dusty earth. In the final scene, I am surrounded by Mayi Wunba dancers. They share their story as if just with me. At times, their gaze breaks the fourth wall. It is hauntingly intimate. I feel as if I am a traveller welcomed like a friend into a local’s home.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZQTJoR2Yrtw?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>This sense of visceral presence is what makes immersive technology such <a href="https://www.mitpressjournals.org/doi/abs/10.1162/PRES_a_00005">a powerful medium for exploring real-world issues</a>. Australian filmmaker Lynette Wallworth has gained international recognition for similar work. <a href="http://www.collisionsvr.com">Collisions</a> (2016) and more recently <a href="http://www.awavenavr.com">Awavena</a> (launched at this year’s Sundance New Frontier program) use 360-degree film to share the unique world view and stories of Indigenous peoples around the world. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/virtual-reality-film-collisions-is-part-disaster-movie-part-travelogue-and-completely-immersive-66563">Virtual reality film Collisions is part disaster movie, part travelogue and completely immersive</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>As Chris Milk, multi-award-winning director and immersive artist, has argued in a <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/chris_milk_how_virtual_reality_can_create_the_ultimate_empathy_machine">widely viewed Ted talk</a>, one of the promises of virtual reality (VR) is its <a href="https://www.learntechlib.org/p/181251/">potential for building empathy</a>. VR works do this by exposing you to experiences and perspectives that you feel you have actually lived. </p>
<p>Alejandro Iñárritu’s <a href="http://www.lacma.org/carne-y-arena#landing">Carne y Arena</a> (2017), for instance, a VR installation at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, is a live-action dramatisation of actual immigrant stories. It puts the viewer in the shoes of Mexicans to share their plight crossing the US border. Carne y Arena creates empathy by giving audiences the feeling of personally experiencing immigrants’ hardships. </p>
<p>A 360-degree film that doesn’t invite some form of viewer participation can feel too distant, failing to create a sense of immersion. Carriberrie immerses you by replicating the personal experience of a front-seat performance. A potential limitation, the solitary nature of wearing a VR headset, is embraced by the film’s director <a href="http://www.dominicallen.biz">Dominic Allen</a>. Watching his film feels like a personal dialogue between the first peoples, me and their land. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/207605/original/file-20180223-152382-8dgbf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/207605/original/file-20180223-152382-8dgbf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207605/original/file-20180223-152382-8dgbf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207605/original/file-20180223-152382-8dgbf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207605/original/file-20180223-152382-8dgbf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207605/original/file-20180223-152382-8dgbf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207605/original/file-20180223-152382-8dgbf0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Dominic Allen on country with Mayi Wunba Karunda, Queensland. Photo © Dominic Allen.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The 360-degree aerial footage in Carriberrie, which allows you to look around as you “fly over” the terrain, is one of the film’s standout innovations. I look down over the water-stained plains as a flock of magpie geese swoop across it. It is like being on a helicopter joyride. </p>
<p>In her book <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books/about/Computers_as_theatre.html?id=NedQAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y">Computers as Theatre (1991)</a>, VR theorist Brenda Laurel argues the importance of the first-person perspective in a three-dimensional VR space. In Carriberrie, I feel myself take on the role of the traveller. I am there to learn and reflect. </p>
<p>The technical expertise to pull all this off is almost invisible. However, working in VR is incredibly complex for creators. Allen used a consumer drone and fitted it with two cameras to create the 360-degree aerial footage. He then patched the shots together at the edit stage. Other scenes were shot with a Jaunt One VR camera – it gives the experience a live, photo-realistic quality.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/207604/original/file-20180223-152357-1cfgl86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/207604/original/file-20180223-152357-1cfgl86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207604/original/file-20180223-152357-1cfgl86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207604/original/file-20180223-152357-1cfgl86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207604/original/file-20180223-152357-1cfgl86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207604/original/file-20180223-152357-1cfgl86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/207604/original/file-20180223-152357-1cfgl86.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Consumer drone fitted with two cameras to create aerial 360° footage in Carriberrie. Photo © Dominic Allen.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Carriberrie uses the latest immersive technology to invite the audience into a much-needed dialogue about the threatened culture of our nation’s first peoples. If their practices are not preserved and passed on to the next generation, if they are not encouraged by all Australians, they could all too quickly be lost. With VR headset adoption yet to become mainstream, museums and cultural spaces will be vital for these important projects to reach wide audiences.</p>
<p>Immersive films like Carriberrie should also be used in educational settings such as classrooms. <a href="http://complexworld.pbworks.com/f/Experience-based%20learning.pdf">We learn through experience</a>. Virtual reality can be a proxy for the real thing. It can give students exposure to Australian Indigenous culture when excursions are unfeasible. </p>
<p>Geographical and language divides are no longer an excuse for ignorance. As artists embrace immersive technologies, let’s hope their work counters the fissures born from a lack of true understanding and empathy. </p>
<hr>
<p><em>Carriberrie can be seen <a href="https://australianmuseum.net.au/event/virtual-reality-carriberrie">at the Australian Museum</a> from March 2-27 as part of WEAVE, a festival of First Nations and Pacific cultures.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/91147/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kate Gwynne does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
A new virtual reality film showing at the Australian Museum immerses viewers in remote Indigenous communities. Such films can be a path to reconciliation and understanding.
Kate Gwynne, PhD Candidate, Interactive Storytelling, UNSW Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/84438
2017-09-28T19:04:40Z
2017-09-28T19:04:40Z
Friday essay: Dr Joe Gumbula, the ancestral chorus, and how we value Indigenous knowledges
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187735/original/file-20170927-24225-1i6zrdt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A sacred paperbark tree at Djiliwirri, the most sacred homeland of the Indigenous elder and public intellectual, Dr Joe Gumbula, in 2004.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Aaron Corn</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In September 2001, the preeminent Indigenous elder and public intellectual, Dr Joe Gumbula, spoke to a class of students at the University of Melbourne. In death, he told us, he would no longer be Joe Gumbula. He would no longer need that name, he said, because the ancestors of his most sacred homeland, Djiliwirri, had already named his corporeal body for features of the living environment as recorded in song.</p>
<p>His knees, he said, are the fruit of the native apple tree.</p>
<p>His feet and legs belong to the emu, as does his heart and his stomach.</p>
<p>His front belongs to the ancestral ghost, Murayana, while his back is Murayana’s iconic hollow log coffin. </p>
<p>His spine is the pathway worn through the scrub by the koel cuckoo.</p>
<p>His eyes are nuts of the cycad palm. </p>
<p>His white hair is made of the fine wispy roots of the paperbark tree and the foam they produce in the swamp during the Wet Season at Djiliwirri.</p>
<p>His head and all his knowledge are honeycomb from the hive of the Honeybee ancestor, Birrku<u>d</u>a. His nose is beeswax, and his mouth is the entrance to the beehive. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=631&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=631&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187734/original/file-20170927-24212-10ityvf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=631&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Gumbula with his family receiving his honorary Doctor of Music degree at the University of Sydney in 2007.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Gumbula, who passed away in 2015, was one of Australia’s greatest thinkers. Now, his name is Birrku<u>d</u>a, <a href="http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol7no2_2008/corn_ancestral.htm">the Honeybee</a>. His voice has joined the ancestral chorus at Djiliwirri, where he dwells for all of time, and there, within the living environment, his songs can still be heard by those who attend to listen.</p>
<h2>Honey from the paperbark tree</h2>
<p>Born in Miliŋinbi (Milingimbi) in 1954, Gumbula was descended from a prominent line of Yolŋu leaders of the Gupapuyŋu clan from northeast Arnhem Land, whose contributions to understanding between Indigenous and other Australians have been influential since the 1920s. Researching the representation of his parents and grandparents in ethnographic and art collections worldwide became the passion of his life’s work. </p>
<p>Gumbula apprenticed as carpenter in his teens, and moved to Galiwin’ku in 1971, where he became a lifetime member of the seminal Yolŋu country and gospel band, Soft Sands. From 1989 to 1996, he served as a sworn officer of the Northern Territory Police Service, retiring with the rank of Constable First Class and a commendation for bravery. </p>
<p>He simultaneously became a recognised master-singer of Manikay, the exquisite Yolŋu tradition of public ceremonial songs. The academy struggles to recognise intellectual expressions outside the medium of text, yet the Manikay tradition perpetuates a body of knowledge that has enabled the Yolŋu to live in Australia for untold millennia. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/F6z5fLYvzIM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Manikay as performed in a public ceremony in Ramangi<u>n</u>iŋ in 2008.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I first met Gumbula at his home in Galiwin’ku in November 1997 while undertaking my PhD research on contemporary popular music in Arnhem Land. He adopted me as his child - a common enough occurrence for which Yolŋu law provides.</p>
<p>Gumbula had been composing his own rock songs since 1985, and had recently found new work as a vocational trainer in contemporary music skills for Northern Territory University. He proudly showed me the new music-video that he had just completed for his most-loved original song, Djiliwirri, which celebrates the continuity of Gupapuyŋu clan law from his parents’ generation to the present. Named after the most sacred homeland of the <u>D</u>aygurrgurr Gupapuyŋu clan, it remains a visionary work that incorporated clips from the 1964 documentary film, Dja<u>l</u>umbu, which featured Gumbula’s father, Djäwa, leading a public hollow-log burial ceremony at Miliŋinbi. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lA97fI7sfsU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">“Djiliwirri” composed by Joe Gumbula and Fred Dhamarrandji, and performed by Joe Gumbula with Soft Sands in 1997.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In September 1997, just before we met, Gumbula had completed a long and arduous process of learning to become a leader of public ceremonies. He had attained mastery in performing his hereditary Manikay, and had learnt to conduct large complements of singers, dancers and artists in ceremony across a complex array of contexts.
By building his expertise in Yolŋu law, he had accrued sufficient <i>märr</i> (essence) to earn the right to lead public ceremonies, and had been recognised by his elders as one who is <i><u>l</u>iya-ŋärra’mirri</i>: learned and wise.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Further reading: <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-the-remarkable-yidaki-and-no-its-not-a-didge-74169">Friday essay: the remarkable yi<u>d</u>aki (and no it’s not a ‘didge’)</a></em></p>
<hr>
<p>As a function of my adoption as his child, Gumbula first taught me how to accompany on <i>yi<u>d</u>aki</i> or didjeridu so that he could sing Manikay whenever we travelled together. He coached me in closely studying the musical and lyrical content of the Manikay series that he regularly performed and the knowledge codified within it. Over the years of this process, I came to understand fine details about Gupapuyŋu clan homelands and ceremonies that I could not have learnt by any other means.</p>
<p>How sulphur-crested cockatoos perch in lofty paperbark trees to cry for the dead.</p>
<p>How emus stomp the earth and soak their feathers as they drink from freshwater streams. </p>
<p>How the poisonous spines of eel-tailed catfish protect the souls of the newly deceased like warriors’ spears. </p>
<p>How tortoises comb through white weeds on the floor of the lake at Gapuwiyak, just as elders comb white clay through the hair of youths being readied for initiation. </p>
<p>These are among the myriad natural phenomena of the Yolŋu homelands that the Manikay tradition records and ascribes ceremonial significance. They are repeatedly observable both in nature and in the ways that Yolŋu engage with them.</p>
<h2>Singing ancestral records</h2>
<p>In Yolŋu epistemology, whenever people sing Manikay, their voices are not their own, but rather mingle with those of the ancestors themselves - all those who have gone before and all those who are yet to be. The Manikay tradition codifies all the observations and strategies for living given to the Yolŋu by the original ancestors who originally named, shaped and populated their myriad homelands in northeast Arnhem Land. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187733/original/file-20170927-24182-1q7xufw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Gumbula sings his hereditary Manikay for the archival record at Djiliwirri in 2004.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Songs are typically organised into lengthy series of subjects that enumerate intimate details of each homeland and its living ecologies. The natural species and cycles found on each homeland - as observed by the original ancestors - are the substance of these songs. </p>
<p>Together with interrelated repertoires of sacred names, dances and designs, the Manikay tradition informs the logic of ceremonial practices through which the Yolŋu observe and express their law. To be a Manikay singer is to be trained in Yolŋu law, to know how to lead public ceremonies, and to know how the myriad features of the Yolŋu homelands are recorded in song. </p>
<p>For the Yolŋu, the Manikay tradition expresses fundamental truths about the nature of human existence within the greater fabric of the natural order. They understand Manikay repertoires to stand as an evidential record of the Yolŋu homelands that has been passed from the original ancestors to their living kin over successive generations.</p>
<p>Memories of the living fade, yet the agency of ancestors is realised anew each time Manikay is performed. The Manikay tradition is therefore regarded to be a formal medium through which the Yolŋu convey their intimate knowledges of country and its ancestral histories, and consolidate philosophical interpretations of the nature of existence from one generation to the next.</p>
<p>Yet each new performance of any given song item within the Manikay tradition is also deliberately unique to capture the aesthetics of the endless variability found in natural forms. Manikay repertoires are built around stock words and phrases, including strings of sacred names for all things observed by the original ancestors, and stock melodies and rhythms that are constantly varied in subtle ways. Cryptic in tone and replete with archaisms stemming from ancestral times, their lyrics defy narrative linearity, and can be ordered and reordered - interpreted and reinterpreted - quite differently with each new performance. </p>
<p>In these respects, the Manikay tradition is both a creative and an intellectual medium, as well as a sacred one. Singers become seasoned thinkers who curate and extend the contents and contexts of their performances to mediate ancestrally-informed understandings of the nature of existence and theorise their relevance for today. It expresses a balanced interplay between tradition and innovation in thought and practice that Yolŋu typically liken to an ancestral campfire site, where each new generation of the living adds <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/j.1834-4461.1998.tb02678.x/abstract">its own layer of ash</a>.</p>
<h2>Thinking through songs</h2>
<p>I have spent my entire career collaborating with thinkers, such as Gumbula, who come from outside European intellectual traditions. Their relationships with the academy are sardonically illustrated by the Iranian philosopher, Hamid Dabashi, who asks, <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2013/01/2013114142638797542.html">“Can non-Europeans think?”</a> He questions why the work of European philosophers is just plain philosophy, while they deem their African counterparts to be <i>ethno</i>-philosophers. Why is it, asks Dabashi, that Mozart is a composer of music, while equally-sophisticated Indian musical expressions are the subject of <i>ethno</i>-musicology? </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187939/original/file-20170928-24182-1ul2uto.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The source of a sacred freshwater stream at Djiliwirri in 2004.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>It is through this systemic lens of alterity that the academy has typically engaged with the Manikay tradition, and indeed all Australian Indigenous expressive forms. It typifies them as conduits for cultural ideas and values, and perhaps even spiritual and political ones, but rarely intellectual ones. </p>
<p>Clearly, learned exponents of the Manikay tradition, and others like it, should be considered thinkers in their own right. But what of the myriad media through which such thinkers choose to express their ideas? </p>
<p>For most intellectuals within Euro-diasporic traditions, the arrangement of typographical characters on a white page is a tried and familiar medium for communicating theoretical ideas built upon observable evidence with reference to existing scholarly findings. Scholars within these traditions, myself included, are trained from an early age to know that books and other texts can convey facts and, therefore, knowledge.</p>
<p>We know that not all books and texts are factual. Yet this never brings into question the prevailing academic assumption that text is the ideal medium for conveying evidential knowledge that is observable and repeatable.</p>
<p>But what if there were other media that, like text, were so intimately associated with language, that they too could convey knowledge in such ways? Academics routinely entrust text and, to a lesser extent, film with conveying their original contributions to human knowledge. We usually do this unquestioningly on the basis of established precedents. Does not the Manikay tradition, with its own intimate relationship with audible language stretching back to established precedents in ancestral times, exhibit comparable mechanisms for conveying meaning?</p>
<p>The Manikay tradition has been carefully curated over successive generations to maintain an observable and repeatable record of this expansive body of knowledge, while simultaneously being able to accommodate both reinterpretations of old observations and additions of new ones.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187737/original/file-20170927-24182-16n404r.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Gumbula working with his brother, Milaypuma Gaykamaŋu, in the University of Sydney Archives in 2007.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Learned singers of Manikay constantly reset and reinterpret the themes and meanings of their repertoires in response to arising circumstances of celebration, loss, negotiation and commemoration. Newer influences upon Yolŋu society, such as its lengthy history of <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/00664670601168385">engagements with Makassan seafarers</a> from Sulawesi, have long been recorded as central themes of Manikay series. Each generation of singers leaves its own new layer of ash upon the same ancestral campfire site. </p>
<p>In this respect, Manikay is an archetypal medium of creative practice-as-research. It synthesises thought and practice to cultivate understandings of the nature of existence that equip people with applicable skills for knowing how to live on country and find its inner meanings. </p>
<p>It locates human existence and agency firmly within the continuum of the natural order, and celebrates the undeniable truth that, as humans, we are all products of countless ancestral unions and deeds over countless generations.</p>
<p>But in Australia, research outputs disseminated via media other than text are <a href="http://era2015.arc.gov.au/s1-9_non-trad-research-outputs.html">officially relegated</a> to othering categories such as “non-traditional”, “applied”, “creative” and “practitioner-based”, and are generally considered secondary to “traditional” textual outputs. </p>
<p>If learned exponents of traditions such as Manikay are truly deserving of our recognition as thinkers, then we should also recognise and value the media they have long cultivated to perpetuate their discourses as being equivalent to the written word. </p>
<p>This is particularly relevant to lexically-rich song forms that convey concepts as sophisticated as any standard scholarly writing. Indeed, with the contemporary academy’s tenuous recognition for formal song forms through which philosophical ideas can be conveyed, Yolŋu intellectuals are frequently left wondering whether scholars in Euro-diasporic traditions can think.</p>
<p>This is not only important for exponents of Australian Indigenous traditions such as Manikay that have become <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/08145857.2013.844526">highly endangered</a> in the wake of British colonisation. It also crucial for thinkers across the humanities, creative arts and social sciences all over the world, who work beyond the medium of text in ways that are more germane to their disciplines and approaches. </p>
<p>This entrenched bias serves little purpose other than to privilege Euro-diasporic traditions of knowledge production and dissemination that continue to threaten and displace equally justifiable ways of being and knowing cultivated by other societies. </p>
<h2>Knowledge across cultures</h2>
<p>Gumbula was my most prolific teacher, Yolŋu or otherwise. Driven by his personal quest to trace the extensive legacy of his family’s recorded history, he was adamant from the outset of our relationship that intelligence should flow between us equally in both directions.</p>
<p>He would teach me about Yolŋu music and its centrality to Yolŋu law and knowledge, and I would help him to build networks that would lead him to collections of interest in museums and archives around the world. This grounded our relationship in the ethos of Matjabala, a Gupapuyŋu clan process for forging bonds with other groups to share knowledge and resources through equitable ceremonial exchange.</p>
<p>Gumbula constantly drew on his knowledge of Manikay and its centrality within Yolŋu law to challenge my learnt academic perceptions about what knowledge is, and how it can be manifested. I came to realise that all ethnographic scholarship about the Yolŋu, since its beginnings in the late 1920s, could not have existed without the cooperation of learned Yolŋu leaders who had been willing to engage with visiting academics. </p>
<p>As Gumbula and I taught, wrote and performed together, our aim was not to bring Yolŋu knowledge into the academy, but rather to bring the academy into a more equitable dialogue with equally valid traditions of Yolŋu knowledge production and dissemination. We called our approach not only bi-cultural, but also <a href="http://www.uhpress.hawaii.edu/p-4280-9780824830052.aspx"><i>bi-intellectual</i></a>.</p>
<p>Gumbula began teaching in Australian Indigenous Studies courses at the University of Melbourne in 2001 and, through his 2003–05 visiting senior fellowship there, embarked on extensive travels to investigate his family’s recorded history in collections around the world.</p>
<p>In association with the National Recording Project for Indigenous Performance in Australia, he and I worked with his family to make archival recordings of their Manikay repertoires through field trips to their remote homelands. Later, at the University of Sydney, he taught in the Australian Indigenous Studies program in 2005–06, and was awarded an honorary doctorate of music in 2007. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187732/original/file-20170927-24167-q7f24a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Gumbula with his wife, Pamela Ganambarr, at the launch of his Makarr-garma exhibition at the University of Sydney in 2009.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Gumbula led three projects funded by the Australian Research Council on Yolŋu collections. In 2009, he curated an innovative exhibition on Yolŋu knowledge at the University of Sydney’s Macleay Museum called Makarr-garma, and his 2011 book on early ethnographic photographs from Arnhem Land, <a href="https://sup-estore.sydney.edu.au/jspcart/cart/Product.jsp?nID=670&nCategoryID=19">Matjabala Mali’ Buku-ruŋanmaram</a>, received a prestigious Mander Jones Award from the Australian Society of Archivists.</p>
<p>Inspired by photographs found in the Melbourne Museum and in the University of Sydney Archives, his final project was to start the process of producing a rare Makarra<u>t</u>a reparations ceremony at Miliŋinbi after a hiatus of some 80 years. He sadly passed away before it came to fruition in August 2016.</p>
<p>Though charming and charismatic, Gumbula was fearless and unyielding. He took pride in challenging colleagues to think and work in new proactive ways. His research leaves <a href="https://ethnomusicologie.revues.org/1747">an enduring impact</a> upon the ways that scholars and collecting institutions represent and engage with Indigenous peoples, heritage, and knowledges.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>This an edited version of the Dr Joe Gumbula Memorial Lecture presented at the 16th Symposium on Indigenous Music and Dance at the University of Melbourne in partnership with the 2017 Information Technologies and Indigenous Communities Symposium convened by Dr Lyndon Ormond-Parker, and the 2017 Australian Society of Archivists Conference convened by Katheryn Dan and Dr Katherine Howard. The author and convenors acknowledge the kind support of Pamela Ganambarr, Farrah Gumbula, Michael Gaykamaŋu and others in Dr Gumbula’s family, and of the Australian Society of Archivists’ President, Julia Mant. A fuller version will be published by MUP in Associations: Creative Practice and Research edited by Dr James Oliver.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/84438/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aaron Corn receives funding from the Australian Research Council. He volunteers as a Co-Director of the National Recording Project for Indigenous Performance in Australia.</span></em></p>
Dr Joe Gumbula was a master-singer of Manikay, the exquisite Yolŋu tradition of public ceremonial song. While the songs contain incredible knowledge, scholars have rarely treated them as an intellectual tradition.
Aaron Corn, Professor of Music and Director, Centre for Aboriginal Studies in Music (CASM) and National Centre for Aboriginal Language and Music Studies (NCALMS), University of Adelaide
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/83643
2017-09-14T02:21:21Z
2017-09-14T02:21:21Z
My favourite album: Yothu Yindi’s Tribal Voice
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/185588/original/file-20170912-6178-1je7f7t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Yothu Yindi performing in 2000. Their songs offered hope and strength to generations of Yolŋu people. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dean Lewins/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Music is central to my training and career as a musician and (ethno)musicologist. I’ve studied music of one kind or another since the age of four, and so I have many favourite albums and artists. But one special album - Tribal Voice - has shaped me so much more than any other, and set the course of my life and work.</p>
<p>It was the brainchild of Yothu Yindi, a band with roots in the former Methodist mission town of Yirrkala on the Gove Peninsula in northeast Arnhem Land. This is a remote part of Australia with an Indigenous majority population that comprises the traditional homelands of the Yolŋu people. </p>
<p>Formed in 1986, Yothu Yindi brought together three Yolŋu musicians from Yirrkala whose upbringings had been steeped in traditional culture - the late M Yunupiŋu, Wi<u>t</u>iyana Marika, and the late M Munuŋgurr - with three “Balanda” musicians whom they’d befriended in Darwin - Stu Kellaway, Cal Williams, and Andy Beletty. The band’s debut album, <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/au/album/homeland-movement/id586482501">Homeland Movement</a> (1989), opened with four original songs. What ensued, however, had never been heard on a rock album before. </p>
<p>The following nine tracks were drawn from song series of the Manikay tradition, the sacred songs performed by the Yolŋu at public ceremonies. Different sets of these Manikay items belonged to the Gumatj and Rirratjiŋu clans, of which Yunupiŋu and Marika were respective members. They stand as sacred expressions of their unbroken lineages from the original ancestors who named, shaped and populated the Yolŋu homelands, bestowing ownership of these myriad countries upon people of their descent. </p>
<p><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/au/album/tribal-voice/id586510491">Tribal Voice</a>, the band’s second album of 1991, showed a much more blended approach, and produced two hit songs through remixes of Treaty and Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming (released on an extended edition of the album in 1992). This album interspersed Manikay items of the Rirratjiŋu clan, Dhum’thum (Agile Wallaby) and Yinydjapana (Dolphin), with originals sung in both English and Yolŋu-Matha. Many of these originals were influenced by themes, lyrics and direct musical quotations drawn from the Manikay series of the Gumatj clan.</p>
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<p>Both <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqkHCMdBSb4">My Kind of Life</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlLV4DXz9A0">Hope</a> reference native honey, which is both a source of nourishment and a symbol of knowledge in Yolŋu tradition. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73knlgKgFHg">Maralitja: Crocodile Man</a> establishes the Gumatj clan’s descent from <em>Maralitja</em>, the Saltwater Crocodile ancestor, while Dharpa (Tree) sings of the law given to the Gumatj by the ghost ancestor, <em>Ganbulapula</em>, for hunting Red Kangaroo. </p>
<p>Mätjala (Driftwood) celebrates the importance of the traditional <i>yothu–yindi</i> (child–mother) relationship between the Rirratjiŋu and Gumatj clans, and Yunupiŋu sings of his own late father and mother, as personified by the <em>Gapirri</em> (Stingray) and <em>Baywara</em> (Olive Python) ancestors in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0LRw3YCQ9sQ">Gapirri</a> (Stingray).</p>
<p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onxDje3pwVI">Mainstream</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0I6oE98r4M">Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming</a> were both influenced by Yunupiŋu’s work as an educator of Yolŋu schoolchildren during the 1980s. Mainstream stems from Yunupiŋu’s views on the rights of Yolŋu to be educated biculturally in both English and Yolŋu-Matha, and sets forth his vision for an Australia in which Yolŋu and Balanda can live and work together in harmony and mutual respect.</p>
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<p>His ideas were inspired by the traditional concept of <em>Ga<u>n</u>ma</em> (Converging Currents). This comes from a river site on the Gumatj homeland of Biranybirany where saltwater and freshwater currents meet, and produce a yellow foam on the water’s surface. The foam is referenced in the song’s first verse. Djäpana: Sunset Dreaming, the first song composed by Yunupiŋu in 1982, quotes the Manikay subject of <em>Djäpana</em> (Coral Sunset), which is associated with sorrow and woe. </p>
<p>Together, these songs offered hope and strength to generations of Yolŋu people who had been raised under the shadow of a bauxite mine on the Gove Peninsula. They offered audiences elsewhere a rare insight into the resolve and aspirations of an Australian Indigenous people.</p>
<p>Parents of the band’s Yolŋu members had been central to fighting a case opposing the Gove Peninsula mine in the Supreme Court of the Northern Territory. Ultimately, it failed in 1971 to recognise the continuing sovereignty of the Yolŋu people over their own homelands. The involvement of Yunupiŋu’s brother, Galarrwuy, in attempting to rectify this injustice by calling on the Australian Government to make a treaty with Indigenous peoples of the NT during the 1988 Bicentenary was immortalised in the song, Treaty. The bravery of these acts, perhaps more than anything else, is what inspired me to devote much of my career to working with Yolŋu music and musicians. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=394&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=394&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=394&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185586/original/file-20170912-13694-pmxffl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Yothu Yindi performs Treaty during the closing ceremony of the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dave Hunt/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The music video for Treaty includes news footage of then Prime Minister Bob Hawke attending the 1988 Barunga Festival, and shows the preparation of the Barunga Statement, the document that called upon the Australian Government for a treaty.</p>
<p>Treaty also quotes a song drawn from Yolŋu history. It is not, however, a Manikay item, but rather an original song in the playful and exuberant Dja<u>t</u>paŋarri style, which was popular as a form of entertainment among young men at Yirrkala from the 1930s and 1970s. Its incorporation into Treaty informs the melodic structure of this song. Yothu Yindi dedicated Tribal Voice to three past Gumatj masters of the Dja<u>t</u>paŋarri style, and framed the entire album with two historical Dja<u>t</u>paŋarri songs, Gapu (Water) and Biyarrmak (Comic).</p>
<p>My favourite song from this album, however, is its title track, Tribal Voice: a rousing call to action. It links the plight of the Yolŋu to that of peoples all over the world who are fighting for the survival of their traditions. With repeated calls to “Get up, stand up”, it viscerally captures the ethos of resistance against oppression originally proclaimed by the Wailers in Jamaica in 1973. </p>
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<p>The music video for Tribal Voice is equally as powerful. The band dances amid a grove of sacred cycad palms in ceremonial dress before they are then seen touring the world against iconic landmarks including the Colosseum and the Statue of Liberty. Yunupiŋu sings surrounded by sacred Gumatj flames, and then in the cycad palm grove, his arms outstretched in Saltwater Crocodile stance.</p>
<p>The action soon moves to a gathering where Yunupiŋu’s brother, Galarrwuy, sings Manikay over two reclining boys being painted in readiness for initiation, which the Yolŋu traditionally perform as a <i>garma</i> (public) ceremony attended by men, women, and children. During the same scene, Yunupiŋu holds a ceremonial woven basket in his mouth and dances Stingray to express the tremendous power of ancestral law.</p>
<p>The song concludes in a crescendo of its repeated hook line, “You’d better listen to your tribal voice”, as Yunupiŋu shouts out the names of his and related Yolŋu clans: Gumatj, Rirratjiŋu, Wangurri, Djapu’, Dha<u>l</u>waŋu, <u>D</u>ä<u>t</u>iwuy, Maŋgalili, and Gälpu.</p>
<p>Tribal Voice is a <i>tour de force</i>. It set forth a vision for an Australia in which Indigenous peoples can live in harmony and mutual respect with their fellow citizens, while continuing to practice sacred laws and care for country in their traditions of their ancestors. </p>
<p>Over the past 25 years, it has influenced the topics that I’ve chosen to research, the career I’ve chosen to pursue, the friendships I’ve made, and the places to which I’ve travelled in ways that were inconceivable to me before. It has been a catalyst in my life, and in the lives of my close family and friends, which has transformed our worldviews and our understandings of what it is to be an Australian. </p>
<p>I will be forever grateful to the many Yolŋu musicians, including Wi<u>t</u>iyana Marika and the late M Yunupiŋu, who have collaborated with me so generously over many years and whose families have been so welcoming.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/83643/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aaron Corn receives funding from the Australian Research Council. His book on Yothu Yindi is available for purchase from Sydney University Press: <a href="http://purl.library.usyd.edu.au/sup/9781920899349">http://purl.library.usyd.edu.au/sup/9781920899349</a>. </span></em></p>
The songs of Tribal Voice offered hope and strength to generations of Yolŋu people and gave audiences elsewhere a rare insight into the resolve and aspirations of Indigenous Australia.
Aaron Corn, Professor of Music and Director, Centre for Aboriginal Studies in Music (CASM) and National Centre for Aboriginal Language and Music Studies (NCALMS), University of Adelaide
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/81676
2017-07-27T02:47:21Z
2017-07-27T02:47:21Z
How Dr G.Yunupiŋu took Yolŋu culture to the world
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179926/original/file-20170727-14757-18zhaxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Dr Yunupiŋu's music is steeped in the culture of his people, the Yolŋu of northeast Arnhem Land.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan Himbrechts/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The music of Dr G. Yunupiŋu — who has <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-07-26/dr-g-yunupingu:-world-famous-indigenous-musician-dies-aged-46/8743316">died at the age of 46</a> from complications arising from a childhood illness — is steeped in the culture of his people, the Yolŋu of northeast Arnhem Land, and specifically in Manikay, the sacred song tradition performed by the Yolŋu when conducting public ceremonies.</p>
<p>Manikay is a medium through which the Yolŋu interpret reality, define their humanity, reckon their ancestral lineages, and evidence ownership of their hereditary homelands through their ability to sing <a href="https://griffithreview.com/nations-of-song">in the tradition of their ancestors</a>.</p>
<p>Dr Yunupiŋu drew immense strength and inspiration from this tradition, and particularly from the Manikay repertoires of his own clan, the Gumatj, and his mother’s clan, the Gälpu. Direct musical and lyrical quotations and references to ancestral themes drawn from Manikay repertoires are present throughout his original songs.</p>
<p>For example, both the melody and lyrics of the initial chorus of I was Born Blind (2008) stridently reference the strength that Dr Yunupiŋu drew from the eternal Gumatj saltwater crocodile ancestor, while the soulful lyrics of Bakitju (2011) echo sentiments of homesickness and loss found throughout Manikay repertoires.</p>
<p>In this way, Dr Yunupiŋu’s music has made Yolŋu values, as expressed through the Manikay tradition, accessible to audiences all over the world. Simultaneously, it has extended a decades-old popular music scene in Arnhem Land that deliberately encourages local youths to follow their culture by <a href="https://journals.equinoxpub.com/index.php/JWPM/article/view/20960">singing in their own languages</a>.</p>
<p>Though born congenitally blind, Dr Yunupiŋu taught himself music from a young age and exhibited prodigious gifts. In his teens, he performed and toured the world with his family from Yirrkala in the band, Yothu Yindi, before returning to Galiwin’ku to form the Saltwater Band with his family there in the late 1990s. In 2008, his career as a solo singer and song-composer began.</p>
<p>During the late 1990s, around the time that Skinny Fish Music recorded the Saltwater Band’s first album, Gapu <u>D</u>amurruŋ’ (1998), I had the privilege of meeting Dr Yunupiŋu and spent considerable time in his midst. At the time, I was undertaking the first comprehensive study of Arnhem Land’s contemporary popular music scene and, when we spoke about his music, he stressed the fundamental importance of music as a means of encouraging Yolŋu children to follow their culture.</p>
<p>The Saltwater Band’s music was full of kinetic energy and youthful exuberance with fast and frenetic songs that blended ska rhythms with gospel harmonies commonly heard among church choirs on Elcho Island. </p>
<p>Yet also present were the seeds of the slower, more contemplative style for which Dr Yunupiŋu received international acclaim as a solo artist. In songs such as I was Born Blind and Bakitju, which Dr Yunupiŋu later recorded on his solo albums, the exceptional beauty of his voice rang true in a way that always left audiences completely enthralled.</p>
<p>Even before the Saltwater Band recorded its first album, Dr Yunupiŋu’s songs were wildly popular among Indigenous communities with thousands of copied and re-copied tapes of the band’s demos and live performances circulating throughout the Top End and Central Australia. Everywhere he went to perform on the regional circuit of Aboriginal festivals in Arnhem Land and beyond in the late 1990s, audiences would expectantly wait for him to appear on stage.</p>
<p>I can vividly recall the closing night of the Miliŋinbi Festival in November 1997, when the Saltwater Band was the final act to take the stage. Bands from Miliŋinbi and neighbouring towns played into the early hours of the morning and there had been whispers throughout the evening that Dr Yunupiŋu would indeed perform. </p>
<p>Entire families stayed outdoors in the cool post-midnight air to experience the catharsis of hearing him sing live and, when his performance finally brought the festival to close around 3am, the audience was utterly transfixed. His generous spirit shone through and his voice was nothing less than transcendent.</p>
<p>It was not until Dr Yunupiŋu’s passing that I realised he and I were the same age, and now I wonder why it is that his life expectancy was cut so short. What systemic disadvantages could have been addressed to prevent him and so many others living in remote Indigenous communities from dying so young. And what, amid so many failed efforts past and present to improve health outcomes for Indigenous Australians, can yet be done to prevent others from unnecessarily dying so prematurely?</p>
<p>In remembering Dr Yunupiŋu, Australia celebrates the life of a man who overcame immense personal and social disadvantages to make the world a better place though his love of music. Yet it is also confronted by a clear and present need to do better in supporting the health and wellbeing of Indigenous people living in remote communities.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/81676/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aaron Corn has received funding from the Australian Institute for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies and the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p>
The music of Dr G. Yunupiŋu, who has died at just 46, draws strength and inspiration from Manikay, the sacred song tradition performed by the Yolŋu when conducting public ceremonies.
Aaron Corn, Professor of Music and Director, Centre for Aboriginal Studies in Music (CASM) and National Centre for Aboriginal Language and Music Studies (NCALMS), University of Adelaide
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/74169
2017-04-06T19:27:40Z
2017-04-06T19:27:40Z
Friday essay: the remarkable yidaki (and no, it’s not a ‘didge’)
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162326/original/image-20170324-4948-1mgwsko.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Yidaki, maker unknown. Collected from Milingimbi by Charles Mountford.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">courtesy of South Australian Museum.</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The yidaki – the subject of a major exhibition now on show at the <a href="http://www.samuseum.sa.gov.au">South Australian Museum</a> – is an instrument owned exclusively by the Yolngu people of North East Arnhem Land.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163411/original/image-20170331-4569-n8540a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kevin Dhurrkay with a yidaki.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">South Australian Museum</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Embedded in a complex web of interconnected relationships, the yidaki is part of an extended network comprising the humans and Spirit Beings belonging to Yolngu country, its sacred topography and environment, the Yolngu kinship system and the Yolngu Matha language. The yidaki is thus connected to Yolngu Law and ceremony - song, dance, visual art and narrative. </p>
<p>The word “didgeridoo” is an introduced, generic term that lacks the significance and precision of the diverse names for this instrument across northern Australian languages. As such, it’s not a term that speakers of these languages and therefore ceremonial owners or co-owners of this instrument normally use. In this regard, a parallel can be drawn with the often lazy usage of the English borrowing “Dreamtime”.</p>
<p>Natural species - the flora and fauna specific to Yolngu country - are also set in this elaborate matrix with <a href="http://www.termite.com.au/termites.html">termites</a> playing a vital role. The <a href="http://www.portrait.gov.au/people/alice-marshall-moyle-1908">eminent musicologist Alice Moyle</a> (1908-2005), has described this process in the following terms:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>…Didgeridoos are made from the trunk of a eucalyptus tree, which has been hollowed out by termites. The termites, or white ants, eat the heartwood of the host tree, and simultaneously create a nest within the latter using the tree’s digested wood fibre as their construction material. The instrument is made by stripping off the exterior bark layers, cleaning out any remaining portions of the nest, and applying a mouthpiece made from beeswax to the smaller end.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This <a href="https://www.facebook.com/southaustralianmuseum/videos/10155022245574350/">termite-tunnelling/munching technique</a> is also the initial stage in the making of Yolngu people’s celebrated vertical mortuary poles, larrakitj (also known by different names across Arnhem Land). Often called “hollow log coffins”, larrakitj are used as receptacles for the bones of deceased persons and stand upright. Because they have been partly created by natural procedures, larrakitj come in idiosyncratic shapes and sizes, with lumps, bumps and nodules. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=435&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=435&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=435&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=547&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=547&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/162582/original/image-20170327-19002-15clrqg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=547&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ramingining artists, Northern Territory, Australia The Aboriginal Memorial 1987-88 (natural earth pigments on hollow logs).</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">National Gallery of Australia, Canberra Purchased with the assistance of funds from National Gallery admission</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Once the termites have finished “dining in” on the interior of the logs, Yolngu paint rarrk (crosshatching designs) and other designs and sometimes figures onto the larrakitj indicating appropriate clan and moiety identity. </p>
<p>Thus nature is transformed into culture.</p>
<p>Local weather phenomena, such as lashing rain, gales and even the devastating cyclones that sweep through in the monsoon season also have parts to play. Wind, thunder, and lightning are closely associated with the yidaki. It’s not for nothing that this brass instrument is described as a “wind instrument”.</p>
<p>The Yolngu Matha word “murryun” refers somewhat onomatopoeiacally to the low, rumbling noise made by the yidaki. The same word is used to describe the deeply resonant sounds of thunder. More recently, dialects of Yolngu Matha have begun using “murryun” to evoke the reverberations of large tractors, as indicated in the <a href="http://www.goveonline.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/yolgnu-english-dictionery.pdf">Beulah Lowe dictionary</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=951&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=951&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=951&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1195&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1195&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161516/original/image-20170320-8887-c0ylsp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1195&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Wamud NAMOK, Kuninjku people.
Australia 1924 /1928 – 2009, Mimih Spirits Dancing, 1981, Gunbalanya (Oenpelli), West Arnhem Land, Northern Territory, Australia, natural earth pigments on eucalyptus bark, 86.0 h x 53.0 w, image courtesy of the National Gallery of Australia, Canberra, © the estate of the artist licensed by Aboriginal Artists Agency Ltd.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In ceremonial contexts, yidaki playing is the exclusive preserve of men but in certain less formal contexts, women will play. Historically and even today, the yidaki is mostly played in the context of Yolngu ceremonial life, and not by lone performers as a solo instrument.</p>
<p>This is in marked contrast to the lone dreadlocked, non-Aboriginal <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYouf1aCcAQ">wannabe “didge” players</a> busking on the street corners or at the entrances of underground railways
in most of the world’s major cities. Parenthetically, such performers often claim <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcpDTGBzKi0">special knowledge</a> about the didgeridoo, whereas these self-appointed New Age “experts” more often than not spout fact-free mumbo jumbo.</p>
<h2>‘Curious trumpets’</h2>
<p>While these “curious trumpets” - a descriptor bestowed on them in 1893 by English palaeontologist and museum director, <a href="http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/etheridge-robert-6117">Robert Etheridge Junior</a> - were originally exclusively confined to defined parts of northern Australia, the didgeridoo has travelled a long way from its original locations and purposes.</p>
<p>It has become synonymous with Australian Aboriginal cultures and is now a pan-Aboriginal symbol on a global scale. But in pre-contact days, this instrument had almost exclusive provenance in the northernmost parts of Australia (as you can see in the map below).</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=780&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=780&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/164249/original/image-20170406-6402-qzzrfi.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=780&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">The Conversation</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>Rock paintings of people playing yidaki have been carbon dated to between 1000 and 1500 years before the present - a minuscule percentage of the overall time Aboriginal people have been living in these northern Australian regions. While this relatively short time frame is a bit of a mystery, the consensus view is that Aboriginal people in northern Australia didn’t develop the instrument until around that time.</p>
<p>Moyle, who memorably described the yidaki as a “lip-buzzed aerophone”, writes that there are “almost as many names for the instrument as there are identifiable language groups” who use it.</p>
<p>For example, “ardawirr” is the word used by Iwaidja speakers in northern Australia. And “didgeridoo” is, in all likelihood, a foreign import that originated in garbled English attempts to onomatopoeically capture the instrument’s unique resonances.</p>
<p>Other theories about the etymology of this word abound, ranging from plausible to wacky.</p>
<p>It’s important to note that the words yidaki and didgeridoo (also often spelled didgeridu) are NOT precise synonyms and therefore should <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20110214193946/http://www.yirrkala.com:80/yidaki/dhawu/31samething.html">not be regarded as interchangeable</a>.</p>
<h2>‘The cavity, it speaks’</h2>
<p>The <a href="https://researchers.anu.edu.au/researchers/evans-nrd">linguist Nicholas Evans</a>, who’s currently working with Western Arnhem Landers on a Gun-djeihmi Dictionary, writes that in one part of that area, Dalabon-speaking men go around tapping trees to judge their suitability as yidaki (called “morlû” in Dalabon). </p>
<p>The men will say “Ngah-woniyan kah-dun-yenjdjung”, which translates as </p>
<blockquote>
<p>I listen for the hollow sound.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“When the right log is found”, explains Evans, “they’ll say ‘Kah-dun-yenjdjung’ meaning "it sounds hollow”, or </p>
<blockquote>
<p>it, the cavity, speaks. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>There are, he says, multiple words for this instrument across Western Arnhem Land. In the Kunwinjku language alone, there are two words in the ordinary language, “mako” and “djalabu” and in the respect register (a form of special ceremonial or avoidance language), it is “morle”. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=556&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=556&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163378/original/image-20170330-4572-1ampcfm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=556&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Different examples of yidaki, and similar instruments with many different names across northern Australia’s Aboriginal language groups.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The South Australian Museum’s pathbreaking Yidaki exhibition literally breathes new life into this instrument by positioning the yidaki in its legitimate context. Curated by the museum’s <a href="http://www.samuseum.sa.gov.au/about/staff/professor-john-carty">Head of Anthropology, John Carty</a>, Yidaki: Didjeridu and the Sound of Australia amplifies the instrument’s multiple meanings and overall significance by foregrounding its human, societal and environmental framework.</p>
<p>Yidaki’s opening night was like no other at the museum. Yolngu expertise was unambiguously placed centre stage, with the Yolngu people positioned as the legitimate knowledge bearers. Museum staff quite properly acted in humbler capacities as facilitators and conduits.</p>
<p>These Yolngu yidaki players, performers and specialists, led by the grand old man <a href="https://www.ididj.com.au/djalu-gurruwiwi/">Djalu Gurruwiwi</a>, yidaki master craftsman and sage, co-owner of the west wind cycle, played the instrument, sang and danced, a never-to-be forgotten ushering-in of the exhibition.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160845/original/image-20170315-10169-1hfj1oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Djalu Gurruwiwi opens the Yidaki exhibition, flanked by dancers Dion and Larry Gurruwiwi.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">South Australian Museum</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Gurruwiwi, a charismatic octogenarian, regarded worldwide as an Ambassador for his people, spoke at the opening.</p>
<p>While the museum audience listened in reverent silence, many later commented that they hadn’t understood a single word of his speech. This says more about non-Aboriginal Australians’ incapacity to understand dialects of Aboriginal English when spoken than it does about Gurruwiwi, whose English is excellent, albeit strongly inflected with the accents of his natal tongue. Regardless, Gurruwiwi conveyed an intensity and passion for Yolngu culture and the place that the yidaki holds in maintaining Yolgnu social cohesion. This transcended any spoken words.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lU_V3eauhCc?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>That Gurruwiwi didn’t address the crowd in Yolngu Matha, his mother tongue, was, however, a missed opportunity - for the performing group and the audience. This constitutes my only substantial criticism of this remarkable event. (As an aside, ambassadors to Australia from countries such as France are uniformly provided with professional interpreters when they speak languages other than English. This should also be standard practice for all eminent Aboriginal speakers whose first language isn’t English, and who act in ambassadorial capacities on behalf of their people).</p>
<p>To quote Nietzsche, “The importance of man is that he is a bridge, not a purpose”. This touches on Gurruwiwi’s unique role, as a crucially important bridge not only at the opening of this exhibition but at many of its attendant events.</p>
<p>The exhibition itself provides that bridge via a huge plasma screen on which Gurruwiwi is seen speaking in depth about the yidaki - in his mother tongue. English subtitles are included in that and other video footage, positioning Yolngu people as the “real” authorities.</p>
<p>Later post-opening events included open-air performances by Yolngu performers, and others featuring Kaurna luminary and <a href="https://www.adelaide.edu.au/kwp/public/contact/">Elder Stevie Goldsmith</a> and the Indigenous didgeridoo virtuoso <a href="http://www.williambarton.com.au">William Barton</a>. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/fKqyQWuqWMk?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Performing solo as well as with Australian state and national orchestras, Barton tours the world, even performing at Carnegie Hall. As the big-ticket attraction at several Yidaki-related events, Barton was also half of an inspired and inspiring double bill <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZUw_rQ-Gkg">concert program</a> with the incomparable soprano and operatic diva Deborah Cheetham at the UKARIA Cultural Centre, which is poised atop the Mt. Barker summit in the Adelaide Hills. </p>
<p>At UKARIA, in concert with the Australian String Quartet, William Barton played the yidaki in his own composition Square Circles Beneath the Sand. He began this remarkable work standing motionless at the back of the auditorium, yidaki in hand.</p>
<p>Following a period of stillness and silence, Barton emitted a single, protracted howl of naked pain. Throughout the performance, at intervals, the hypnotic strains of the instrument were punctuated by unaccompanied vocalised howls signifying unbearable loss and grief. </p>
<p>The American poet Emily Dickinson titled one of her poems “After great pain, a formal feeling comes.” Feelings of formality, solemnity and reflection upon Australian history were palpable at the conclusion of Barton’s work. The audience reception was evidence of the power of art to heal primal grief and pain.</p>
<p>Significantly, by explicitly placing this classical Aboriginal instrument in the context of high art, and by situating himself as a classical musician, Barton positioned himself and this unique instrument where both <em>really</em> belong. This move adroitly distanced both instrument and player from the popular-cultural, shopping arcade precincts appropriated by that global army of lone, mostly non-Aboriginal, New Age “didge” players.</p>
<h2>A transformational approach</h2>
<p>The South Australian Museum is undergoing a transformation in its relationships with the Indigenous communities whose works it keeps mostly outside of the CBD in a large warehouse, relegated to shelves or hidden inside sliding drawers. In the past, local Aboriginal people have reported that it has been fiendishly difficult to gain access to the cultural products of their forebears.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163414/original/image-20170331-4565-11zhlnh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Watching a video display at the exhibition.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">South Australian Museum</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The exhibition Yidaki is a triumph. As mentioned earlier, the exhibits comprise large screens with Yolngu custodians speaking authoritatively about the broader context. Familial clusters of yidaki are on display. Yidaki music permeates the galleries, letting visitors experience, at a visceral level, the interconnectedness of the yidaki with all other aspects of Yolgnu living.</p>
<p>A video on a gigantic screen shows a mega-storm approaching coastal Yolngu country, at first slowly, ominously making its way towards the viewer, culminating in a crescendo of yidaki accompaniment. This makes for an intense corporeal experience, resulting from the yidaki soundscape, the deep rumblings of thunder, the flashing pyrotechnics of the lightning and the vibrations that pulsate through one’s body. </p>
<p>One cluster displays several yidaki in various stages of construction, from the early, immediately post-termite colonisation phase to one beautifully adorned, finished example. A large sign in bold letters next to this installation tells viewers to “PLEASE TOUCH”. This came as a pleasurable shock, partly because I had been tempted to do just that, but had expected the sign to deliver a contrary message.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/163412/original/image-20170331-4588-1axjzkt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A child examines an exhibit.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">South Australian Museum</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The English theatre director Peter Brook has written about dull, “dead” theatre, contrasting this with its polar opposite, which he termed “immediate theatre”. While the latter glosses involve considerable oversimplification of Brook’s metaphor, an analogy can be made here with past and present museum practices.</p>
<p>There’s a passage in J.D. Salinger’s classic novel, The Catcher in the Rye, in which Holden Caulfield, the young anti-hero/narrator recounts his childhood school excursions to the local natural history museum in an unnamed American city:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Sometimes we looked at the animals and sometimes we looked at the stuff the Indians [Native Americans] had made in ancient times … Then you’d pass by this big glass case, with Indians inside it rubbing sticks together to make fire, and a squaw weaving a blanket. Boy, that museum was full of glass cases. There were even more upstairs, with deer inside them drinking at water holes, and birds flying south for the winter … The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody’d move … Nobody’d be different.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Glass cabinets have their place when a culture (say that of the Ancient Egyptians) no longer exists, but when cultural practices are alive and well, there’s no excuse for such an approach. It exemplifies the “dead museum”. At the time Salinger was writing, a number of Native American cultures were still thriving.</p>
<p>Yolngu culture and language are still living, although in these times of increasing assimilatory pressure their long-term continuation lies precariously in the balance. Like other Aboriginal cultures and languages, it’s just hanging on. <em>Now</em> is the time for museums to change direction by strongly supporting living cultures, as the museum is doing with Yidaki: Didgeridu and the Sound of Australia.</p>
<p>There are signs throughout Australia that things are changing on this front, but mostly they’re not happening quickly enough.</p>
<p>The approach taken to Yidaki … marks an historical departure and potentially a new era for the South Australian Museum. It’s hoped that this can be sustained. Yidaki … continues into mid-July 2017. Go and see. It’s a wild and thrilling ride.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/74169/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christine Judith Nicholls does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The yidaki, a musical instrument owned by the Yolngu people of North East Arnhem Land, is created by both termites and instrument makers, who tap trees to find hollow logs. A new exhibition tells its fascinating story.
Christine Judith Nicholls, Senior Lecturer in Australian Studies, Flinders University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/74138
2017-03-22T01:09:09Z
2017-03-22T01:09:09Z
Video games encourage Indigenous cultural expression
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160394/original/image-20170312-19242-1bbtiqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Indigenous games like 'Honour Water' can teach Indigenous values and ceremonial practices.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.honourwater.com/">Honour Water/Elizabeth LaPensée</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Video games are robust forms of creative expression merging design, code, art and sound. Unfortunately, <a href="https://vimeo.com/25991603">many games misrepresent or appropriate from Indigenous communities</a> by falling back on stereotypes or including cultural content without involving Indigenous people in the development process. </p>
<p>But done right, games have the potential to be self-determined spaces, where Indigenous people (meaning First Nations, Inuit, Métis, Native American, Maori, Aboriginal and similar communities) can express themselves on their own terms.</p>
<p>As game designer <a href="http://romero.com/">Brenda Romero</a> points out, game mechanics – the systems that determine gameplay – can give players <a href="https://www.wired.com/2013/12/brenda-romero/">an experience</a> teaching <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/brenda_brathwaite_gaming_for_understanding">deep and powerful lessons</a>. Her game “<a href="http://www.blromero.com/the-new-world/">The New World</a>,” for example, puts players in the role of a slave trader navigating the Middle Passage as a way to illuminate the experiences of slaves. </p>
<p>But when games like “<a href="https://www.ageofempires.com/">Age of Empires</a>” focus players’ attention on “discovering” or “claiming” land on a map, they are inherently reinforcing colonial views of the world. That ignores Indigenous approaches to mapping waterways and placenames, as seen in the Indigenous singing game “<a href="http://pinnguaq.com/singuistics/">Singuistics</a>,” which portrays the Americas as <a href="https://www.manataka.org/page1302.html">Turtle Island</a>, a term recognized in many Indigenous communities.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=563&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=707&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=707&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/161892/original/image-20170321-5386-1ontmp4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=707&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">America is portrayed as ‘Turtle Island’ in ‘Singuistics.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://pinnguaq.com/singuistics/">Elizabeth LaPensée</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
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<p>There is a strengthening movement of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VqXFzxtGzXg">Indigenous game designers and developers</a> working to portray Indigenous storytelling, teachings and ways of knowing <a href="https://www.sovereigngames.org">for their own people</a> and the wider world. </p>
<p>As an Indigenous game developer and <a href="https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2015/06/the-post-apocalyptic-dimensional-space-of-native-video-game-design/">scholar of Indigenous games</a>, I want to see more Indigenous people creating games that are simultaneously engaging and informative. Above all else, I hope to see genuine representations as well as compelling games with design inspired by Indigenous ways of knowing.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Creating Indigenous games with Indigenous designers and creators.</span></figcaption>
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<p>Indigenous-made games with Indigenous themes are not yet widely mass-market products, but they are gaining attention – and players – as access to technology, including mobile devices, expands. </p>
<p>Many people play games made, at least in part, by Indigenous developers. <a href="https://vimeo.com/128110465">Indigenous people have had a variety of roles working on a wide range of games</a>. Even “DOOM,” which <a href="http://www.escapistmagazine.com/articles/view/video-games/issues/issue_55/328-John-Romero-The-Escapist-Interview">helped to shape video games as we know them</a>, was developed partially by <a href="https://twitter.com/romero/status/701530383863644161?lang=en">Yaqui and Cherokee coder and designer John Romero</a>. Of course, Indigenous game developers shouldn’t be limited to making only games that are recognizably Indigenous in theme. However, Indigenous cultures are robust influences for game ideas that can provide players with authentic viewpoints they may not experience elsewhere in mainstream culture.</p>
<h2>Many forms of inspiration</h2>
<p>Family, historical and traditional stories can inspire games across many genres and with varying mechanics. In “<a href="http://neveralonegame.com/">Never Alone</a>,” the player is an Iñupiaq girl who performs common gaming actions like jumping across platforms and avoiding obstacles – while living out a family story in a game developed in collaboration with storyteller and poet <a href="http://alaskanativestoryteller.com/">Ishmael Hope</a> as well as Iñupiaq elders and community members from Alaska.</p>
<p>History can be a source for intense game interactions. At one point in “<a href="https://www.maoritelevision.com/news/regional/2d-projected-artwork-reflects-maori-and-pakeha-cultures">Maoriland</a>,” a game about the Indigenous people of New Zealand and their experience with European colonization, a missionary hits Maori people with a Bible. It’s a reflection of real acts of violence, including in the name of religion, that occurred during colonization.</p>
<p>Returning to traditional stories can offer hopeful self-expression, such as in the award-winning first-person shooter “<a href="http://skins.abtec.org/">Otsi: Rise of the Kanien'keha:ka Legends</a>.” Developed with <a href="https://vimeo.com/6909022">youth in the Skins Game Development Workshop</a> from Kahnawake Mohawk Territory in Quebec, Canada, the game merges many traditional stories into a journey in which the player becomes the hero the village needs.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Developing ‘Otsi.’</span></figcaption>
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<h2>Adapting cultural values</h2>
<p>Indigenous cultural values of play and competition can inspire game design, too. “<a href="https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewSoftware?id=1185154339&mt=8">Mikan</a>” is a video game adaptation of the Anishinaabe version of a traditional “<a href="http://www.winonadakotaunityalliance.org/education/moccasin-game-history/">moccasin game</a>.” “Mikan” players click on moccasins to find birch bark carvings of tools and belongings related to harvesting wild rice. Throughout the game, players hear Anishinaabemowin, the Anishinaabe language spoken across North America and centralized around the Great Lakes region. Indigenous forms of play, like those in “Mikan,” can be embedded into wider game worlds, such as competitive hunting seen in “<a href="http://www.7generationgames.com/">Spirit Lake</a>” and “<a href="http://www.7generationgames.com/">Fish Lake</a>.”</p>
<p>While friendly competition is a value in many communities, other values such as generosity, gratitude and reciprocity appear in other games. In the suite of touchscreen games “<a href="http://omsi.edu/exhibitions/row/">Gathering Native Foods</a>” developed for the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, players are asked to gather salmon, wild blackberries and clams for a community feast. But if players gather more salmon than is requested, or try to grab at berries so quickly that they gather unripe ones, or stay too long at the ocean trying to take more clams while the tide is coming in, they lose. That encourages players to take only what is needed from the land and the waters.</p>
<p>In the singing game “<a href="http://www.honourwater.com/">Honour Water</a>,” people can actually give back to the land and the waters. Players listen to and can sing along with Anishinaabe water songs, which are songs about the waters that are sung to the waters. By singing, players physically enact <a href="http://ias.umn.edu/2015/07/08/day/">Sharon Day’s and other elders’ teachings</a> about healing the waters.</p>
<h2>The value of a life</h2>
<p>When games are designed to share Indigenous perspectives, the contrast with more conventional games can spark insightful discussions that continue well beyond a gameplay session. Lakota game designer Allen Turner noticed <a href="https://vimeo.com/130299622">culturally inappropriate mechanics in “Dungeons and Dragons</a>,” including the expectation that players would take belongings from characters who died in the game – rather than honoring those who have died by respecting their remains and belongings. As an alternative, he created the <a href="http://boingboing.net/2015/06/15/a-game-that-shares-the-traditi.html">tabletop role-playing game “Ehdrigohr</a>,” in which players are encouraged to respect characters who have died.</p>
<p>In “<a href="http://survivance.org/invaders/">Invaders</a>,” an Indigenous spin on the classic arcade game “<a href="https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1979494/">Space Invaders</a>,” lives are represented not as numbers or even as the player’s own, but instead as warriors who stand side by side with the player’s character. If the attackers hit the player, he permanently loses a community member. This design reflects the very real losses experienced as colonizers attacked and decimated Indigenous communities during invasion. And the game reflects the reality of genocide: No matter how long a player holds out, the attackers keep coming until the player inevitably dies.</p>
<p>Designers can honor Indigenous experiences in other ways, too. For example, “<a href="http://mushroom11.com/">Mushroom 11</a>,” developed in part by Julia Keren-Detar, who has Algonquin heritage, allows players to play the game not only in English but also Indigenous languages, including Algonquin, Inuktitut and Anishinaabemowin, spoken across North America.</p>
<p>It is important for game developers not to ignore the historical fact that Indigenous people have often been denied the power, status and authority to tell their own stories. Game players will get the most powerful and authentic experiences of Indigenous insights when Indigenous people are involved in the games’ design and development. It is a vital act of self-determination for us to be the ones determining how our people are portrayed and our stories are told.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/74138/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Elizabeth LaPensée does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
A strengthening movement of Indigenous designers and developers is working to show Indigenous cultures, teachings, languages and ways of knowing through video games.
Elizabeth LaPensée, Assistant Professor of Media and Information and Writing, Rhetoric and American Cultures, Michigan State University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/72559
2017-02-10T04:15:29Z
2017-02-10T04:15:29Z
Are the Grammys really about good music?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156098/original/image-20170208-17355-1ffxp8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Is the system broken?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/download/confirm/40744702?size=huge_jpg">'Record Player' via www.shutterstock.com</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>One of the biggest controversies about the Grammy Awards is whether they measure an artist, song or album’s quality, market share or some combination of the two. </p>
<p>Although the voting members of the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences are <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/popular-music/article/div-classtitleaward-ceremony-as-an-arbiter-of-commerce-and-canon-in-the-popular-music-industrydiv/6D721234736777FA7F98B86A89F9BCCB">instructed to consider only quality</a>, there are reasons to believe that the selections are made according to more amorphous criteria. </p>
<p>The voters – a select group of recording artists, conductors, songwriters and engineers – operate in a professional environment, rather than a cultural one. That is, they’re prone to be as concerned with sales potential as they are with artistry. “Quality” is never defined, and anonymous voters, of course, aren’t required to justify their choices. </p>
<p>While there’s no reason to challenge the honesty of the process, it’s safe to assume that it pits commercial interests against cultural ones. It’s also reasonable to assume that, like all electorates, Grammy voters are self-interested and inclined to vote in ways that might financially benefit them.</p>
<h2>A measure of quality or popularity?</h2>
<p>In 2006, professors Mary Watson and Narasimhan Anand <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/popular-music/article/div-classtitleaward-ceremony-as-an-arbiter-of-commerce-and-canon-in-the-popular-music-industrydiv/6D7212%5Blink%20text%5D(http://aom.org/News/Press-Releases/Grammy-Awards--Commercial-Appeal-Overtakes-Artistic-Merit.aspx)%2034736777FA7F98B86A89F9BCCB">showed</a> how the Grammy award categories have evolved to legitimize and lend exposure to certain musical genres and not others. For example, the ceremonies resisted including awards for rock until 1979; the same goes for rap music, which didn’t get its own award until 1989. In an earlier article, they also noted the relationship between the recognition of these genres and how commercially successful they had become. </p>
<p>While Watson and Anand didn’t try to prove that the Grammys are often selected on the basis of prior sales, I would argue that this is also the case. </p>
<p>While the <a href="https://www.grammy.com/nominees/search">“general field” categories</a> – Record, Album and Song of the Year, and Best New Artist – are open to music in all genres, no classical artist or recording has ever won in any of these categories. It’s probably not a coincidence that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Grammy_Awards_for_classical_music">classical music</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grammy_Award_for_Best_Jazz_Instrumental_Album">jazz</a> have <a href="http://thejazzline.com/news/2015/03/jazz-least-popular-music-genre/">a very poor market share</a>. On the other hand, 2016’s Best Album, Taylor Swift’s “1989,” had already <a href="http://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/chart-beat/6620398/taylor-swifts-1989-5-million-fastest-selling-album-decade">sold five million copies</a> by July 5, 2015. And Adele’s “25,” nominated for this year’s Best Album award, <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-4070240/Adele-named-Billboard-s-Artist-Year-time-conquering-charts-25.html">sold over nine million copies</a> in 2016 alone.</p>
<p>The general field awards have been somewhat more generous to jazz, where there have been occasional winners in every category except the Best Song. Most recently, vocalist-bassist <a href="http://www.esperanzaspalding.com/">Esperanza Spalding</a>, in 2011, became the first and only jazz musician to win <a href="https://smoothjazzbuzz.wordpress.com/2011/02/14/esperanza-spalding-has-won-the-grammy%C2%AE-award-for-best-new-artist/">Best New Artist</a>. </p>
<p>But then there’s the 1978 Grammys. It’s hard to believe that there wasn’t a better new talent that emerged that year than Best New Artist winner Debby Boone. The daughter of 1950s pop icon Pat Boone, her recording of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b07-yKnKRMQ">“You Light Up My Life”</a> topped the Billboard Hot 100 for a record-breaking 10 weeks prior to the Grammys – the peak of an up-and-down career. Boone and her fellow nominees – pop and rock stars Andy Gibb, Foreigner, Shaun Cassidy and Steven Bishop – hardly inspire confidence that selections are based more on artistry than sales. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, many artists and critics have knocked the Grammys for being a purely money-making enterprise, with little relationship to artistic accomplishment.</p>
<p>When Pearl Jam won the award for Best Hard Rock Performance in 1996, the band’s lead singer Eddie Vedder <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/videos/grammy-the-movies-20080208">commented from the stage that</a> “I don’t know what this means. I don’t think it means anything.” </p>
<p>In 1991 <a href="http://www.craveonline.com/music/129524-the-grammys-top-10-bashers-boycotters">Sinead O'Connor</a>, even though she won for Best Alternative Musical Performance and was nominated for other categories, nonetheless boycotted the ceremony and refused the award – the first artist to do so – citing its “extreme commercialism.”</p>
<h2>Less popular genres get the shaft</h2>
<p>Looking beyond the big categories inspires more doubt that the Grammys are about quality music.</p>
<p>In 2012, the Grammys underwent a <a href="https://www.grammy.org/recording-academy/press-release/apr-06-2011-914-am">major restructuring of award categories</a>, which were reduced from 109 to 78. Ethnic music categories suffered the most, especially <a href="https://www.grammy.com/nominees/search">American roots music</a>. Organizers consolidated a range of distinct regional traditions into a single catchall – Best American Roots Performance – replacing separate categories for Best Native American Music Album, Best Hawaiian Music Album, Best Zydeco or Cajun Music Album and Best Polka Album. The result? Even with the presumption of qualified judges, it’s now impossible to make serious comparisons on the basis of quality. </p>
<p>Some <a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2012/feb/11/entertainment/la-et-grammy-protest-20120211">protested</a> the decision at the 2012 ceremony, arguing that the change was rooted in racism, economics and an assault on small, independent labels. As Scott Billington of Rounder Records (a roots label affected by the restructuring) <a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2012/feb/11/entertainment/la-et-grammy-protest-20120211">said</a>, “It does seem a little bizarre to have Hawaiian records competing with polka.” </p>
<h2>Can the Pulitzer Prize act as a model?</h2>
<p>By contrast, the <a href="http://www.pulitzer.org/prize-winners-by-category/225">Pulitzer Prize in Music</a> appears to have little or no relationship to market share. Whether or not the judging process is entirely fair, there’s at least the impression that the seek to reward cultural – not commercial – accomplishment. </p>
<p>The prize is chosen not by a vote of hundreds of industry professionals but by a small panel of experts: musicians, presenters and critics. The prize was long awarded exclusively to classical music and composers. But the guidelines were changed in 2004 expressly to admit music across all genres, including works represented by recordings rather than notated scores. </p>
<p>Since then, avant-garde jazz composer-performers Ornette Coleman (2007) and Henry Threadgill (2016) <a href="http://www.pulitzer.org/prize-winners-by-category/225">have received the prize</a>, in both cases on the basis of recordings. “Special citations” for lifetime achievement have also been won by popular singer-songwriters Bob Dylan (2008) and, posthumously, Hank Williams (in addition to numerous jazz and classical composers).</p>
<p>Unlike the Grammys, a Pulitzer Prize has even, on occasion, been awarded to little-known composers, such as <a href="http://carolineshaw.com/">Caroline Shaw</a>, who, as a 30-year-old student, won the 2013 prize for “Partita for 8 Voices,” an a cappella composition release on the small, independent label <a href="http://newamrecords.com/about/">New Amsterdam</a>. </p>
<p>There’s plenty to criticize about the Pulitzer Prize for Music, which still has its own genre bias, favoring classical music with an occasional nod to jazz. The prize has been faulted for being “academic” and out of touch with the public. But preoccupation with album sales is surely not a concern. </p>
<p>At least in the classical music and jazz categories, the Grammys deserve credit for uniformly awarding critically acclaimed artists. And because voters are required to select no more than nine categories when they vote (in addition to the general fields), the classical and jazz categories likely attract voters most familiar with these genres.</p>
<p>So are the Grammys really about good music? </p>
<p>Sometimes, but not often enough.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/72559/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alex Lubet does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
After winning his Grammy in 1996, Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder said, ‘I don’t think this means anything.’ Was he right?
Alex Lubet, Morse Alumni Distinguished Teaching Professor of Music, University of Minnesota
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/71480
2017-01-18T04:53:17Z
2017-01-18T04:53:17Z
Celebrating the songs of Australia’s civil rights movement
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/153182/original/image-20170118-21159-b18ope.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Dan Sultan played a defiant version of Midnight Oil’s The Dead Heart at 1967: Music in the Key of Yes.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>For two hours at Bennelong Point on Tuesday night, the Sydney Opera House rang out with songs of hope, empowerment, and freedom.</p>
<p>The occasion was 1967: Music in the Key of Yes, a concert to mark the <a href="http://www.naa.gov.au/collection/fact-sheets/fs150.aspx">50th anniversary of the 1967 referendum</a>, the culmination of a ten year campaign led by the Federal Council for the Advancement of Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders.</p>
<p>Fifty years ago this May, Australians went to the polls and in overwhelming numbers, voted Yes to remove two discriminatory references in the constitution. The changes allowed the federal government make laws affecting Aboriginal people and include the count of “aboriginal natives” in the Census.</p>
<p>The Sydney Festival’s commemorative concert promised a re-interpretation of the “greatest songs of the civil rights movement” from Indigenous artists including Dan Sultan, Thelma Plum, Radical Son, Leah Flanagan, Emily Wurramara, Yirrmal Marika, Alice Skye as well as former Magic Dirt singer Adalita. What was delivered was far broader in scope.</p>
<p>Yirrmal Marika opened the evening, singing in his language a song the audience soon recognised as My Island Home. A chorus of musicians then picked up the words in English. It was a taste of the musical traditions that would be celebrated.</p>
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton</span></span>
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<p>Yirrimal’s raspy sweet voice was a reminder of the rich seam of Aboriginal music that remains little known to non-Aboriginal audiences.</p>
<p>Neil Murray’s My Island Home was a shining example of Australia’s Civil Rights songs – or perhaps Land Rights songs is a better term, since a large portion were written in the 1980s when native title was a hot political issue and historians were first piecing together the scale of the Stolen Generation.</p>
<p>Radical Son’s rendition of Archie Roach’s They Took The Children Away spoke of the heartbreak of forced separation and the joy of reunion. Adalita’s take on Goanna’s Solid Rock used trippy arrangements to riff off the Apocalypse Now-inspired reference to a “heart of darkness”.</p>
<p>Dan Sultan offered a defiant version of Midnight Oil’s The Dead Heart, while the ensemble delivered a rocking version of Yothu Yindi’s Treaty. Most refreshing was Alice Skye’s slow bluesy soulful take on the Warumpi Band’s Blackfella, Whitefella.</p>
<p>Listening to these songs in a curated program brought home the particular political goals of Indigenous people’s struggle. Unlike the American civil rights song, Country is an overarching theme. The Australian Land Rights songbook speaks of “salt water people” who stood on “solid rock” and “sacred ground”, ready to “stand up and be counted”.</p>
<p>Also notable is Indigenous Australia’s special love for country music. On Tuesday night, the twang of country rock mixed with the yelps of the didgeridoo and snap of clapping sticks. From here, the band edged into soul, blues and more raucous Aussie stomps.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153175/original/image-20170118-21153-1ygh89s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Of course, the concert featured a selection of American Civil Rights songs. Radical Son’s heartfelt version of Sam Cooke’s A Change A Goin’ Come made me wonder if Cooke ever imagined that the momentous wave of change he would sing about would cross oceans.</p>
<p>Ursula Yovich and Thelma Plum both paid tribute to the tempestuous Miss Simone with a bluesy I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free and sassy Feelin’ Good. As Mt Isa-born writer Alexis Wright noted in the program, the songs of Cooke and Simone song helped give “our spirit back to us”.</p>
<p>The vocalists gave new meaning to songs not usually associated with the Civil Rights movement. “I was dreaming in my dreaming” began Adalita in a feisty rendition of Patti Smith’s People Have The Power. Dan Sultan led a spine-tingling With A Little Help From My Friends, the arrangement via Joe Cocker and a killer Gospel chorus. While Emily Wurramara finished the night with a delicate take on Paul McCartney’s Blackbird: “You were only waiting for this moment to be free”.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/153162/original/image-20170118-21143-10alg27.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Music and hope was celebrated at the Sydney Opera House.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Prudence Upton</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Throughout the concert, a series of visuals that drew on the poetry of Oodgeroo Noonuccal (previously known as Kath Walker) were projected onto screens above the performers. Historical footage underscored the depth of racism in White Australia and hinted at the internal divisions within the Aboriginal Civil Rights movement.</p>
<p>Members of the <a href="http://indigenousrights.net.au/organisations/pagination/federal_council_for_the_advancement_of_aborigines_and_torres_strait_islanders_fcaatsi">Federal Council of Advancement of Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders</a> tended to be buttoned-down, middle aged and, above all, respectable people who furthered racial advancement through petitions and lobbying. Former General Secretary Faith Bandler exuded a quiet dignity, an unlikely political champion in her floral dress and starched curled hair.</p>
<p>Images of orderly Council meetings contrasted with the confrontational demonstrations staged by the Aboriginal Black Power movement. They were a noticeably younger, noisier, scruffier lot, who rejected the gradualism of racial “advancement”, preferring to take the authorities head on.</p>
<p>Yet 50 years on, these strategic differences were eclipsed by the unity of purpose. Especially so, as the songs are no less poignant than they were 30 or 50 years ago.</p>
<p>As Michelle Obama <a href="http://opinion.premiumtimesng.com/2016/12/25/michelle-obama-hope-post-truth-post-fact-america-adeolu-ademoyo/">recently said</a>, “Hope is a necessary concept”. Even in the face of monumental struggle, despair is not an option. This songbook, presented by impassioned singers in the “key of yes”, was a powerful tonic to chase away cynicism and uplift the human spirit.</p>
<p><br></p>
<p><em>1967: Music in the Key of Yes will be performed at <a href="http://www.adelaidefestival.com.au/2017/1967">the Adelaide Festival </a>on March 15.</em></p>
<p><em>This article was updated on Thursday 19 January.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/71480/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Deirdre O'Connell does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
From My Island Home to Treaty, Indigenous musical luminaries gathered in Sydney on Tuesday to sing classic songs marking the fiftieth anniversary of the 1967 referendum.
Deirdre O'Connell, PhD Candidate in History of Culture and Race, University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/30210
2014-08-12T04:51:25Z
2014-08-12T04:51:25Z
The Brisbane Declaration: a blueprint for the musical world
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/55926/original/fhvsqc7c-1407383423.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Does Psy represent the future of music?</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP/ Yonhap News Agency</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Earlier this year the number of views of South Korean mega-star Psy’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bZkp7q19f0">Gangnam Style</a> YouTube video exceeded two billion. That’s more than a quarter of the people on the planet who have watched the video. It also adds up to a collective 16,000 years spent watching (assuming everyone sat out the four-and-a-bit minutes, which is a big assumption). </p>
<p>At the same time, many musical practices <a href="http://blog.oup.com/2014/05/why-we-should-all-care-about-dying-musics/">face enormous challenges</a> in getting any attention at all - particularly those of Indigenous and minority peoples. As I wrote on <a href="https://theconversation.com/weve-lost-98-of-indigenous-music-traditions-who-cares-26282">The Conversation</a> in May, an estimated 98% of Australian Indigenous music and dance traditions have already been lost. Without urgent action, the remainder are also in jeopardy.</p>
<p>It’s difficult then to generalise about the state of music in the 21st century. But a new declaration, drafted in Brisbane last year, attempts to do just that. It aims <a href="http://worldforumonmusic.org/brisbane-declaration-0">to articulate</a> a “sharpened vision for the musical world” as we approach the year 2020. </p>
<p>What might this mean for the future of music – in Australia and beyond?</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55928/original/9tppcj3y-1407384036.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">DanceSite, Alice Springs.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/rustystewart/">Rusty Stewart</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>An action agenda</h2>
<p>In November last year, Brisbane hosted the <a href="http://worldforumonmusic.org/">5th World Forum on Music</a> (WFM5) of the International Music Council (IMC). During the event, the IMC solicited the views of the 600-odd delegates on the key priorities and action areas for the musical world towards 2020. </p>
<p>These ideas were then drafted into a formal statement, approved in principal by the 35th IMC General Assembly. This statement has become known as the <a href="http://worldforumonmusic.org/brisbane-declaration-0">Brisbane Declaration</a>.</p>
<p>As an “action agenda”, the Brisbane Declaration aims to ensure a “sustainable, thriving and diverse musical life on our planet”. It makes some acute observations on contemporary musical practices. It also draws attention to some of the challenges and concerns surrounding music and music-making in the 21st century - such as the vulnerability of many local music traditions in an increasingly globalised world.</p>
<h2>Five Musical Rights</h2>
<p>Underlying the Brisbane Declaration are the <a href="http://www.imc-cim.org/about-imc-separator/five-music-rights.html">Five Musical Rights</a>, proclaimed by the IMC in 2001. These are:</p>
<p>1) the right for all children and adults to express themselves musically in all freedom <br>
2) the right to learn musical languages and skills <br>
3) the right to have access to musical involvement through participation, listening, creation, and information <br>
4) the right for all musical artists to develop their artistry and communicate through all media, with proper facilities at their disposal <br>
5) the right to obtain just recognition and remuneration for their work.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/55929/original/rw24d9w9-1407384256.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">African Children’s Choir.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/crartist/">Louis</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Brisbane Declaration reflects on the progress made since 2001 regarding these rights. It connects the rights to key issues in contemporary musical life around the globe, including the roles of communities, educational institutions, governments, the music industry, and the mass media. </p>
<h2>Will the Brisbane Declaration help?</h2>
<p>It’s difficult for a statement such as the Brisbane Declaration to accurately reflect the situation for all musics and musicians across the world, from traditional folk artists to concert pianists to global pop stars.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, the Brisbane Declaration captures what music opinion-leaders believe are the most urgent concerns facing musicians today, from the grassroots to international levels. Freedom of expression, approaches to education, the rise of digital technologies, and intellectual property and copyright are all on the table.</p>
<p>In a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFht0JFQifo">panel discussion at WFM5</a>, Jeremy Cox, CEO of the <a href="http://www.aec-music.eu/home">Association of European Conservatoires</a> (AEC), and Frans de Ruiter, then-President of the IMC, reflected with delegates on the draft agenda. They shared their hope that the Declaration may inspire and encourage artists, educators, researchers, policy-makers, industry bodies and opinion-leaders to work together to ensure a sustainable and diverse global musical future.</p>
<p>With active dissemination and use, the Brisbane Declaration promises to help shape vibrant and viable music practices across the world. In July, AEC <a href="http://www.aec-music.eu/media/news/the-aec-participates-in-the-brisbane-declaration#.U9L8MhZZK0s">announced its intention</a> to draw on the Declaration in developing a <a href="http://www.emc-imc.org/events/european-forum-on-music-2014/sessions/european-agenda-for-music/">European Agenda for Music</a>.</p>
<h2>What does it mean for Australia?</h2>
<p>As <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/08145857.2013.844526#.U-Ht4RZwK1x">efforts are made</a> to maintain and revitalise remaining Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander performance traditions, the Declaration reminds us that culture is a pillar of sustainable development. </p>
<p>It prompts us to affirm the right to musical and cultural expression for all Australians, <a href="https://theconversation.com/muting-indigenous-language-support-only-widens-the-gap-27105">including Indigenous children</a> in our schools. It calls on us to reflect critically on musical and cultural access and equality, which hold a mirror to wider societal issues and values.</p>
<p>If we take notice, the Brisbane Declaration promises to act as a useful compass, directing our vision towards a future in which, in a spirit of respect and equality, Australians and people around the world may build enriching, stimulating, and diverse musical lives. </p>
<p><br>
<em>Catherine Grant’s book <a href="http://global.oup.com/academic/product/music-endangerment-9780199352180?cc=au&lang=en">Music Endangerment: How Language Maintenance Can Help</a> was recently released by Oxford University Press.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/30210/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Catherine Grant does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Earlier this year the number of views of South Korean mega-star Psy’s Gangnam Style YouTube video exceeded two billion. That’s more than a quarter of the people on the planet who have watched the video…
Catherine Grant, Joy Ingall Postdoctoral Researcher in Music, University of Newcastle
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/29159
2014-07-16T20:12:26Z
2014-07-16T20:12:26Z
Aboriginal hip-hop meets Iranian diaspora in a cross-border rap
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53858/original/qc7kz4nk-1405399068.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Jimblah isn't the only Indigenous rapper delivering witty and nuanced social messages.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP/ NUZULU/ Averie Harvey</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Rap music is a transnational genre with many socially and culturally aware artists pursuing important collaborative projects – not least a current pairing in south-west Sydney.</p>
<p>Indigenous rapper <a href="http://www.realtalkthebook.com/home/izzyntheprofit">Izzy</a> (Jacob Ballard) met Mamali (Mohammad Ali Gholami), who recently arrived from Ahwaz in Iran, at <a href="http://www.krosswerdz.com/">Krosswerdz Hip Hop Church</a> in Sydney’s suburb of Belmore. </p>
<p>The two men have been showcasing their rhyming skills together at <a href="http://streetuni.net/category/street-uni-liverpool/">Liverpool’s Street University</a> (created by The <a href="http://www.noffs.org.au/">Ted Noffs Foundation</a>) and Hip Hop Monthly at Valve Bar (hosted by Izzy). Using their mutual love of hip-hop to break through language and cultural barriers, they formed a close bond and moved naturally into a working partnership.</p>
<p>Following <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014-05-13/budget-2014-534-cut-to-indigenous-programs-and-health/5451144">substantial cuts to Indigenous programs</a> in the 2014 Federal Budget and amid a <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-07-09/asylum-seeker-debate-fuelled-by-misinformation/2788256">highly politicised debate</a> regarding asylum seekers arriving in Australia, this unconventional music project promises to make an insightful contribution to social and political discourse, and make its mark on the Australian hip-hop scene.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53854/original/395pcy66-1405397717.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Izzy, Blaze, Mistery and Mamali.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>‘Aussie rap’ remixed</h2>
<p>Watching the two rappers perform, you can tell they exchange ideas, themes and emotions freely and easily. Inspired by the moods evoked by beats and samples, Izzy and Mamali harmonise their individual experiences. Their rhythmic flows portray layered narratives otherwise difficult to express accurately and difficult to convey through conversation. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>It doesn’t make sense, these borders to protect <br>
when our government’s doing more harm to us instead …<br>
… Stolen generation didn’t have to go that way<br>
ain’t no one learnt, it’s still happening today<br> – Izzy (from untitled song)</p>
</blockquote>
<p><br></p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1067&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1067&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1067&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1340&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1340&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53855/original/7rvnp7s2-1405397908.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1340&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mamali.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<blockquote>
<p>خوردند٫ بردند٫ تاراج کردند٫ حراج شد
هرچه که بود٫ تا آخرین نفر
بر چسپ خورد٫ عدد خرد٫ شمردنش
قبل از شروع٫ کشتنش بعد از بلوغ</p>
<p>Cheated and stole, they plundered and sold everything from old <br>
Accused every last one,
numbered everyone <br>
A target prior to beginning,
barely an adult and a victim of their killing <br>
– Mamali (adapted translation from untitled song)</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Their raps contextualise experiences of injustice and hardship through different characters and render complex commentary on greed, war, colonialism, persecution, loneliness, friendship, belonging and hope.</p>
<p>Using digital technology and innovative techniques – and driven by the unique critical and creative impulses characteristic of marginalised people – rap music has the potential to deliver witty and nuanced social and political messages in aesthetically appealing and confronting ways. </p>
<p>Rap allows musicians to synthesise traditional cultural elements and contemporary social experiences with personal thoughts and feelings. The genre communicates particularly well with cultures that have enduring oral traditions.</p>
<p>Australian hip-hop is still forming an identity and questions regarding “Australianness” and authenticity are vigorously debated among artists and enthusiasts. Rappers from culturally and ethnically diverse backgrounds such as <a href="http://grindin.net/news/agency/kween-g/">Kween G</a>, <a href="http://l-fresh.com/">L-Fresh</a>, <a href="http://www.okayafrica.com/audio/remi-raw-x-infinity-sensible-j-dutch/">Remi</a>, <a href="http://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/2013/11/05/hip-hop-artist-raps-against-racism">Jimblah</a>, <a href="http://vimeo.com/76591622">Flybz</a>, <a href="http://iambriggs.com/page/3">Briggs</a>, <a href="http://www.pataphysics.com/#!biopress/cjki">Pataphysics</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/officialmirrahmusic">Mirrah</a>, groups <a href="http://soulbenefits.bandcamp.com/">Soul Benefits</a> and <a href="http://allaussiehiphop.com/2010/02/13/brethren-bastion/">Brethren</a>, and <a href="http://www.mayajupiter.com/">Maya Jupiter</a> complicate mainstream notions of “authentic Aussie” rap. </p>
<p>Slowly, different languages, accents, social and cultural experiences and identities are helping to create a picture of Aussie hip-hop culture that reflects an ever-changing multicultural society. </p>
<p>But as Izzy and other practitioners <a href="http://www.realtalkthebook.com/">explain</a>, many Australian fans still tend to make a distinction between Aboriginal rap and what they assume is <a href="http://politicalbeanie.tumblr.com/post/86695510669/hip-hop-studies-panel-discussion-at-sydney-university">“real” Australian</a> rap.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/53859/original/fhhfbkph-1405399116.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hip-hop duo Horrorshow and soul singer Georgia Humphreys celebrate NAIDOC Week in Sydney’s Hyde Park on July 7, 2014.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP/ NEWZULU/ Averie Harvey</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Last week, Indigenous hip-hop had <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/hip-hop-artists-jimblah-horrorshow-warm-their-vocals-for-naidoc-20140706-zsy5y.html#ixzz36mNv9NbK">a strong presence</a> during NAIDOC celebrations with rapper/ producer Jimblah, rap group Horrorshow and soul singer Georgia Humphreys performing in Sydney’s Hyde Park. </p>
<p>Bryte MC, Trooth, The Last Kinection and many local performers featured at <a href="http://www.canwa.com.au/articles/news/hip-hop-family-fun-to-celebrate-naidoc/">Hip Hop NAIDOC Family Day</a> organised by CAN WA. The Last Kinection also showcased their work and ran workshops at the National Museum in Canberra. </p>
<p><a href="http://www.desertpeamedia.com/">Desert Pea Media</a> released a new hip-hop album<a href="#_ftn21"></a> featuring <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYdZSVK7Ask">Spear of Destiny</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdPvK80IUPo#t=125">Built to Last</a>. And Izzy hosted and performed at the Riverstone NAIDOC Celebration.</p>
<p>On a weekly basis, Munkimuk (founding member of South West Syndicate), who raps in English and Jardwadjali, presents an Indigenous hip-hop show on Koori Radio. And rapper Briggs recently collaborated with the legendary <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/triplej/musicnews/s4044006.htm">Gurrumul</a> with <a href="http://www.ripitup.com.au/music/article/geoffrey-gurrumul-yunupingu-adam-briggs-the-hunt-hip-hop-hilltop-hoods#.U8J12vmSytI">great success</a>.</p>
<h2>Blaring across borders</h2>
<blockquote>
<p>Class struggle is oppressive over here (adapted translation)<br>
اختلاف طبقاتی اینجا بیداد میکنه - Hichkas</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Young people in Iran draw on their rich cultural heritage and contemporary urban experience to write raps that are satirical, blending personal testimony and scathing political denunciation. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/U7L9y-Wmz1o?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Hichkas – Ekhtelaaf in No One Knows About Persian Cats.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In 2009 Persian rapper Hichkas (Nobody) attracted international attention to Iranian rap when his song <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7L9y-Wmz1o">Ekhtelaaf</a> (Inequality) featured in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1426378/">No One Knows About Persian Cats</a> (2009) by Kurdish-Iranian director <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0315842/?ref_=tt_ov_dr">Bahman Ghobadi</a> (who fled Iran after making the film). </p>
<p>Other prominent dissident Iranian rappers include <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d14JrOC3lL8">Fadaei</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXLcl0-3XTc">Bahram</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4SbI7niBmc">Pishro</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AVizz_L46_Q">Ali Sorena</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z63Ee1Q7BZ8">Yas</a>, Quf, groups <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P61-L-bQ5FU">ZedBazi</a>, Digaran and Cherik, <a href="http://www.shahinnajafimusic.com/">Shahin Najafi</a> (now in Germany) and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cd6GCKjLtqU">Saye Sky</a>, a lesbian activist who fled Iran to Turkey and now resides in Canada.</p>
<p>Transnational initiatives such as <a href="http://colorlines.com/archives/2014/06/ana_tijoux_teams_up_with_palestian_rapper_shadia_mansour_for_new_video.html">Ana Tijoux/Shadia Mansour</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUdMs5by0cA">Dragon Balti/Killer Priest</a>, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maytha-alhassen/remarkable-current-tunisia_b_1151966.html">Tunisian rappers/RC</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gk0H6jUYQEw">Yas/Tech N9ne</a>, <a href="http://jakartarecords-label.bandcamp.com/album/sawtuha">Sawtuha</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vw2Vs_cOySo">The Grand Cypher</a> and the 2010 Nomadic Wax <a href="http://nomadicwax.bandcamp.com/track/world-cup-mixtape">World Cup Mixtape</a> have a distinct social justice message.</p>
<p>And, for now, south-west Sydney is host to a noteworthy music partnership with edifying social messages.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/29159/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Omid Tofighian does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Rap music is a transnational genre with many socially and culturally aware artists pursuing important collaborative projects – not least a current pairing in south-west Sydney. Indigenous rapper Izzy (Jacob…
Omid Tofighian, ARC Research Assistant, Honorary Associate in the Department of Philosophy, University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.