Marmalade Issue 5, 2017

COLLISIONS: IDENTITY,
MEANING AND POLITICS IN
CONTEMPORARY ABORIGINAL
ART AND DESIGN
Words by Timmah Ball
Timmah Ball is an emerging writer, urban researcher
and cultural producer of Ballardong Noongar descent.
The rising popularity of Aboriginal art, culture and design has
occasionally aroused suspicion. As Richard Bell stated in his
dry sardonic way, ‘Aboriginal art—it’s a white thing ’1 . In 2015,
I was working in urban design for a local council who were
developing an Aboriginal community centre in a suburb with
a growing Indigenous population. An Indigenous steering
committee was established to ensure the centre became a
culturally vibrant place for the local community. But the lead
white architect oozed an almost caricatured hipness in his
black velvet blazer, a ‘starchitect’ in the making.
At the first community co-design workshop, a stifling sense
of power permeated the room as he confidently flicked the
switch on the projector, animating the wall with technical
design sketches and bush imagery. His presentation ended
on an image of a black hand holding a white hand, as if
a twee photo could erase the ongoing racism Aboriginal
people endure. An Aboriginal community centre was vital
but as people gently started to share their ideas, the loudest
voices were white. The impact of colonisation was ignored,
but a white council worker self-assuredly explained to
community why the design should reference the river. White
voices drowned out Aboriginal people who sat silently by
the end. The architect left smugly, muttering how he likes to
explore Australia’s deep cultural dimension, another project
to boast about bringing cultural ‘cred’ and status to his
illustrious career.
Nayuka Gorrie recently wrote that ‘there is material gain
made from our culture that does not flow to us.’ 2 I felt this
as the architect casually left, knowing he would have a new
building to boast about generating more work, while no one
could guarantee whether free services would be provided
for those in need. But on reflection, one the most challenging
aspects of the exchange were the clichéd ways white staff
and project designers expected us to express our culture.
A strong connection to the river was assumed but what
about other influences? A particularly vocal staff member
repetitively talked about ways to incorporate the Stolen
Generation as if this was something we could ever forget or
even want to be reminded of through architectural design.
Given the restrictive way we are often viewed, how do we
express ourselves through art and design that engages with
our lived realities, culture, ancestors and global connectivity?
ISSUE 05 / 25