4. The Promise - to Elizabeth Marks Nakamarra

In the early 2000s I continued my occasional research activities. I was enthusiastic and mistakenly convinced I was close to writing a first draft about Namarari’s life because I seemed to know so much. I had done important initial interviews with John Kean and Peter Fannin (by phone), and with Geoff Bardon and Dick Kimber (in person). (Extracts from these interviews, and other PTA staff 1972-1998, are in The master from Marnpi.)

In May 2002 I interviewed Hetti Perkins at the Art Gallery of NSW. She was a great admirer of Namarari and had curated a small but stunning selection of his late-career works at the Museum of Contemporary Art (Sydney) as part of the 2000 Biennale of Sydney. She told me:

When I was thinking of artists for the 2000 Biennale of Sydney it occurred to me, thinking about international and Australian artists, that he had a painting career of thirty years and didn’t have anywhere near the recognition that other artists with a similar career span had.

Hetti alerted me to notable aspects of Namarari’s career and acknowledged his seniority in Australia’s Aboriginal artist’s ranks:

I think he is one of the pillars of contemporary art practice, both Indigenous and contemporary Australian and international as well. I would equate him with artists such as Rover Thomas and Emily Kngwarreye in terms of his ability, influence and his enduring significance to Australian art.

Hetti alluded to many points of interest but I did not have the focus to follow them all after the interview. My research was haphazard and I was writing was in isolation. It was piecemeal because I was still limited by the time available – working part-time and family responsibilities. I transcribed interviews (very time-consuming!), read books and attended exhibitions. My files were disorderly too, but thankfully I started a file on each person I interviewed to give some sort of structure to my growing pile of data. One thing that really annoyed me was spending hours searching for scraps of paper… in my office… somewhere.

I also joined an art-buying investment group, based in Perth, the Tjukurrpa Collective. I was keen to learn more about art and investing and a dedicated group seemed a good way to go. I participated from a distance, which gradually became a limitation, though it meant I could look around Sydney for possible artworks to show the Collective for consideration. Over many years I realised I had my own ideas about art and investing. My early unsureness was replaced by a rising confidence about what to buy, and why, and from whom. Helen and I had long discussions at home about Aboriginal art in general and the Namarari project.

Gradually I found my own way, mostly with a clear and unstoppable focus on Papunya Tula art. I made my tenth trip to Alice Springs in December 2001 and met Dick Kimber (again) to talk about Pintupi men and their art. And the Todd river was flowing! Each time I went to Alice or to a PTA exhibition at Utopia Art Sydney, I came home with another painting. I particularly liked the small 61 x 55 centimetres size – enough space for the artist to show their skill, yet small enough to be inexpensive. Easy to collect too – it seemed all of PTA’s artists did 61 x 55’s. But I couldn’t find one by Namarari.

I began writing about Aboriginal art. (I view those efforts now more as an enthusiast’s opinion than a deeply informed perspective.) With Christopher’s support at Utopia Art Sydney I prepared brief essays to accompany three solo exhibitions by PTA artists in 2001 and 2002: Makinti Napanangka, Ronnie Tjampitjinpa and George Tjungurrayi. These exercises drove me to do preliminary research on the lives and art practice of those artists, which taught me a valuable lesson: it takes hours and hours just to write one page of thoughtful text. In 2002 I wrote a short essay for the ‘Two Thirds Sky’ exhibition catalogue too, which I titled ‘What kind of place do you imagine the desert to be?’ Held at the Hazelhurst Regional Gallery & Arts centre in southern Sydney, the gallery also produced a wonderful documentary film that included one of my favourite artists, Gloria Petyarre.

In 2004 I joined a happy crowd at the launch in Sydney by James Bardon of the monumental ‘Papunya, A place made after the story’ (Geoff & James Bardon). James signed a copy for me and I set about slowly wading through the hundreds of art images and annotations (mostly 1971-72 works). I became increasingly aware of my knowledge deficiency around Aboriginal culture and art history. To push myself along I enrolled in a Graduate Certificate in Indigenous Studies (distance learning, Curtin University, 2005). This forced me to read, think and write. Most importantly, I got feedback from lecturers on my assignments, which definitely helped me improve my written expression.

In late 2007 I attended the ‘Papunya Painting: Out of the desert’ exhibition at the National Museum in Canberra. Among many artworks on display was a small Dingo story by Namarari (‘Flying dingoes’, The master from Marnpi, p173). And Philip Batty’s catalogue essay about Namarari was accompanied by a stunning Namarari painting from 1978 (‘Many Dreamings’, The master from Marnpi, pp176-7). I knew I had to see that painting one day.