tayenebe - National Museum of Australia
Transcription
tayenebe - National Museum of Australia
exhibition tayenebe Tasmanian Aboriginal baskets left to right: Vicki maikutena Matson-Green, Patsy Cameron (also second from right), Dulcie Greeno, Audrey Frost white flag iris (Diplarrena moraea) Photograph: Simon Cuthbert, TMAG Tasmanian Aboriginal women’s fibre work exchange – in workshops, exhibition and collection It [weaving] tells me a lot about our early people, about our mothers and their families and their movements in the seasons. Audrey Frost, weaver As I ease up the drive of one of the cottages at larapuna, in the Mt William National Park in north-eastern Tasmania, there’s little sign that anyone is here, let alone that there is a big workshop in progress. The quiet is broken by the tsck, tsck of someone sweeping in the nearby cottage and the flapping of a pair of jeans on the washing line, caught by the stiff breeze coming in off the waters of Bass Strait. The breeze has a bite to it and, despite the clear skies and the warm sun, the air is distinctly chilly. Inside one of the cottages I find a small group of women sitting in a circle weaving, and in conversation. It is almost a shorthand version of a conversation – the state of the grasses, the evenness of the weave, the plans for tomorrow and the latest stand of grasses to be collected. page . 6 This is the last of the series of seven workshops that form part of the tayenebe project to revive weaving in the Tasmanian Aboriginal community. It is a collaborative project involving Arts Tasmania, the Tasmanian Museum and Gallery, and the National Museum of Australia. The workshops have been held at different locations, and with different combinations of more than 30 women and girls. This workshop is the longest and most ambitious, at over 10 days long; yet it has a very high participation rate. Everyone is determined to continue their weaving after this final workshop, but from now on it will be within their circle of friends and within their families. There was a powerful atmosphere, partly because this is the last workshop, and there is a desire to get the very best out of it, and especially because this was the only workshop held on the Traditional Country for most of the participants. But it has also been an emotionally charged time, because the news arrived of the passing of Auntie Muriel Maynard during this workshop. An important and respected Elder, Auntie Muriel’s interest, commitment and love of making was strong. She was a fine weaver. Although too unwell to participate fully in tayenebe, Auntie Muriel supported its aims. As a measure of their respect the weavers jointly created a basket, each completing two or three rows with their individual styles and skills. The purpose of tayenebe, and the success of the final workshop, builds upon some pioneering work that commenced in the early 1990s. Around that time, Alan West, former Curator and now Research Associate at the Museum of Victoria, had undertaken research on the plants and weaving techniques employed in some of the baskets made in the 1800s. Jennie Gorringe, an arts worker at the Tasmanian Aboriginal Centre, was involved in one of the first efforts to revive the weaving tradition, using West’s work. Gorringe arranged a number of events and camps for women, inspiring them to become engaged in weaving practice. In 2005, Moonah Arts Centre held an important exhibition that involved three skilled weavers, Eva Richardson, Colleen Mundy and Lennah Newson. Sadly, Lennah Newson passed away before the tayenebe project began, but perhaps her passing gave greater impetus to it. This earlier work was important in reinvigorating the weaving tradition, but weaving expertise was still not widespread, and the knowledge of some traditional methods remained undiscovered. Tayenebe sought to address this. It was based on a workshop format conceived by Arts Tasmania’s Lola Greeno that sought to dynamically revive many of the old ways in changing locations and with a flexible range of participants. This format led to a depth and variety in the reinvigoration of the weaving tradition. For example, variations in plant stocks in the different locations influenced the weaving works – with the weavers including sea plants as well as land plants, resulting in a revival of the use of bull kelp for containers. Tayenebe is a south-eastern Tasmanian Aboriginal word, meaning ‘exchange’. This word was very appropriate, as the success of the project depended on exchanging and sharing many sources of knowledge and experience. Firstly, the historical baskets held in museum collections contained information vital to reproducing the exact style. However, the baskets contained much more than technical information. The women who were able to study these precious objects saw the baskets as a link to the Old People, in a sense a manifestation of the women who made them in the 1800s. Only 37 baskets and fibre work from the 1800s survive in various collections. Of these, only five are by known makers – two by Trucanini and three by Fanny Cochrane-Smith. The rest were likely to have been made by some of the 70 women living at Wybalenna or Oyster Cove from 1835 to 1874, having been taken there by George Augustus Robinson.1 Unlike these earlier women, the women who took part in the tayenebe will not be unnamed; this is a well-documented project. Materials are used to illustrate connections to wider culture than functional objects. For example, the addition of a strand of fibre in a twisting figure of eight by Vicki maikutena Matson-Green reflects the flight of the moonbird, or mutton bird. The moonbird was thought to fly to the moon, only to return to its nesting grounds next season, having survived the rigours of the long flight. Another example is the inclusion of a swirl of maireener shells on the inside of Patsy Cameron’s basket. This creates a vortex representing the Milky Way; the materials and the design makes connections between the land, sea and sky. Alongside these works, there are displays of Tasmanian Aboriginal unique kelp containers. These vessels have the leather-look of the dried sea plant, warm in tone and shiny, its curved forms belying the firm and brittle nature of the dried fronds. There is no known kelp container in collections in Australia, so the shape of the tayenebe containers was informed by prints from the Baudin voyage of exploration of 1800–04, and by the recent availability of an image of an actual container from c.1850 held in the British Museum. It is interesting to note that these records show differing versions of the form. A look at this subtle and elegant exhibition makes it clear that the works are not merely the product of a set of weaving tutorials, where techniques have been learnt. Rather, the works are suffused with ideas, speculations and connections. The weavers state their strengthened connection to culture through the act of weaving, in walking the country in search of fibres, and in the knowledge that they are pursuing a process that was once part of the everyday life of their ancestors. The National Museum is fortunate to have been able to acquire from tayenebe 33 baskets, containers, samples and a personal journal of the project. The exhibition, which was curated by Tasmanian Museum and Gallery Guest Curator Julie Gough, is on display at the National Museum until 25 July. It is accompanied by a handsome catalogue. Andy Greenslade, Curator, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Program 1. G ough, 2009. The list of 70 women, compiled by Chris Berg, was taken from the records of G. A. Robinson. Over 100 baskets were made during the project, 70 of which are on display in the tayenebe exhibition. Some have a traditional purity of technique and material and sit eerily alongside the old baskets, the time between the making of them seemingly conflated to nothing. Others are contemporary, with the material often dictating the final form. And others are experimental in their combinations of materials or their expressions of ideas. page . 7