'Between You and Me' is an evocative title; it speaks of relationship, intimacy, a discreet sharing of something personal. The intention of the one-day forum, organised by Craft Victoria on 18 March this year, was to discuss the role of craft practitioners in mediating between Western and traditional cultures', namely with indigenous communities from Australia, India and East Timor. The forum was an opportunity for craft practitioners, curators and the public to come together, listen and discuss their intercultural experiences.
I went along eager to support this initiative of Craft Victoria. I was interested in the proposed discussion but wondered how the communities themselves would be involved, despite the regional proximity it was a lot of cultural ground to cover. Given the limitations of a one-day forum, ‘Between You and Me’ was described as a seed event for the ‘South’ project, a series of craft-related events examining cultural issues of the Southern Hemisphere. My role at ‘Between You and Me’ was to observe and participate in discussion and to consider some of the concepts or issues that arose during the course of the forum. This article is partially a report of what happened, a journey of my experience, and I invite readers to contribute a response and to take up the opportunities that the ‘South’ project’s present.
Cultural exchange through craft is not a new phenomenon in Australia; there are numerous opportunities for craft practitioners, such as residencies and projects supported by government agencies and philanthropic societies, or alternatively self-funded by the artist. Residencies provide time for the practitioner to research and develop new work while projects tend to focus on community-based activity such as teaching new skills. While reports are written and exhibitions held, there have been limited opportunities for public discourse and critical examination of the cultural process through which engagement with indigenous or traditional communities is negotiated in Australia or by Australians.
I expected there to be some difficulty in discussing the role of the craft practitioner because I have previously experienced conflict and confrontation as a result of raising similar issues for public discussion. One example was the conference KORERO A TE WHATU - THE PERSUASIVE OBJECT held in 1998 and designed to address the future of craft in New Zealand. Art historian and theorist Douglas Lloyd Jenkins in his passionate opening address critiqued the past 25years of New Zealand craft regaling particular craft practitioner’s as philanders and appropriators of traditional Pacific designs and techniques.
Politically New Zealand publicly contests inter-cultural issues in active reforms, for example, ratifying the Treaty of Waitangi and introducing bi-culturalist policies. As an expat I have observed how central craft practice is to the reconciliation process and the assertion of New Zealand’s national identity. In my experience, as a craft practitioner and Australian citizen, Australia as a society negotiates inter-cultural issues and identifies with craft quite differently. Reconciliation with our indigenous people has been undermined as an avenue for building national identity and the cultural value of craft struggles to be recognised in a design obsessed rational economy. Given the political difference between the way New Zealand and Australia approach and identify with their inter-cultural relationships, I wondered what implications this would have, if any, on the discussion at ‘Between You and Me’. I wondered how ‘Between You and Me’ might challenge the status quo? Would it begin to reveal new ideas or methods of working?
Dr Kevin Murray introduced themes for the audience to consider by posting, in his Power Point presentation, terms such as ‘missionary’, ‘colonialist’ and ‘anthropologist’ inside speech bubbles. Noting the power relationship within these imperialist structures, Murray then subverted these terms by suggesting contrary, personalised, power dynamics through terms such as ‘slave’, ‘pilgrim’, ‘product designer’, ‘artist’ and, lastly, ‘miner’. As an introduction to the forum, signifying dialogue through speech bubbles was an effective device—it invited the audience to think beyond the physicality of craft, its processes and personalities, and consider craft practice within a broader ethical and or theoretical context.
The living dynamic of craft makes it an ideal cultural practice through which to discuss contemporary issues of appropriation, authenticity, gender, consultation and representation. These concepts can be difficult to approach and tease out, however, as they often challenge perceptions and assumptions of what craft is or what role it plays in society—as one colleague has pointed out, this conflict might also be between those who like to sit around and talk about it and those who go out and do it. I was conscious of this dichotomy as I sat and considered the presentations delivered at ‘Between You and Me’.
The forum program proceeded with a gracefully restrained opening address by Tony Birch, who relayed his experience as an indigenous Australian writer and his collaboration with visiting Scottish craftsman Gordon Bennet. Birch talked about the importance of getting to know each other in the collaborative process, of clarity about the participants’ motivation, and of being prepared for the potential abrasive outcome of collaboration. There is always compromise in achieving project completion, he noted. He also spoke of collaborative projects in an urban setting, commenting that he is often called on to offer legitimacy, to compensate for a lack of authenticity. (The irony of this statement did not escape me on this day.)
Birch spoke of the reciprocal arrangement upheld by Australian indigenous communities as a way of maintaining parity amongst tribal groups. I understood this concept, Tandurran, as an exchange of gifts, leaving something for the community you visit/encounter as a means of protection, a process for mediating dialogue and exchange. He relayed an anecdote from the tragic tale of early Melbourne settlement, when pioneer John Batman encountered a group of local Aboriginal women and gifts were exchanged but respect for reciprocality of the arrangement was betrayed. Batman was bartering for rights of ownership to the land without making his intentions understood or known. This story powerfully demonstrated the legacy of imperialist notions of mediating interculture dialogue and exchange in our country, and I hoped that there would be contemporary stories shared during ‘Between You and Me’that would reverse this paradigm.
South Australian ceramist Robin Best followed Birch, speaking about a project in which she worked primarily with the indigenous women from Ernabella. Best reported how the project evolved, over her several trips to the outback, from its beginnings, when the women painting preformed plates, to its current stage, in which women handbuild and paint their own pots. Images relayed the ‘progress’ of the women’s work, indicating a stylistic shift in the ‘decorative’ painting from the washed-out colours of naïve landscapes to a boldly coloured abstract linear/dot style more conventionally recognised as Aboriginal painting. The women were paid at the time of making the pots and plates, which were then exhibited and sold in Adelaide.
I confess I sat divided by this project, and still feel unresolved about its purpose and outcomes. It became apparent at this point that the notion of ‘Between You and Me’ might be a little shaky. As one audience participant pointed out, it was hard to discuss this project without members of the Ernabella community present.
This project raised for me some of the broader questions concerning the ability of non-indigenous Australians to mediate and collaborate equitably with the indigenous peoples of Australia. It was difficult to ascertain how the Aboriginal community were involved in formulating and evaluating the project, and, more critically, how they are hindered or influenced by the structures imposed on them. The basis for this project appeared similar to others I have heard of recently involving outback communities, in which the introduction of craft skills is closely associated with a push or need to generate income and to develop small business enterprises. What struck me in viewing the images was that I learnt more about the women of Ernabella through their initial attempts at painting the plates; they were more of a mystery to me when they were encouraged to paint pots in the traditional style.
Similar concerns were raised during the discussion that followed this presentation but it seemed more productive to stay safely within the realm of Best’s personal experience of the project. As the day progressed, it became apparent that presenters were more comfortable speaking on a personal level, relating moments of shared experience, the pleasure in passing on or receiving information or finding common ground through craft practice.
This tendency was reflected in the presentation on textiles in Gujarat, India where Jemma Dacre visited, spending time involved with indigenous craft cooperatives and worked with indigenous manufacturers to develop products for her label Textiles for Nomads. She spoke of moments of shared understanding between herself and makers of Indian textiles, of common themes and inspirations used for design. This bond illustrates one of the endearing qualities of craft: at a fundamental level, craft provides a conduit for shared experience amongst people of differing cultural backgrounds. I strongly empathise with this feeling, and acknowledge it is an experience through which we can learn much about ourselves. But at the same time I am mindful that the evaluation of this experience is subjective, and I wonder if (or how) ‘meaningful engagement’ is shared or experienced by the indigenous co-workers and collaborators?
Dacre's assertion that we have 'moved on' from post-colonialism, and her belief that you can only represent yourself, interested me, however, I hesitate at the absoluteness of her proposition that we should start and finish with the self. Priortising the self over the collective, the present over the past suggests a kind of amnesia, a forgetting or denial of what precedes or follows us, an approach to inter-cultural relationship that I have noticed has gained currency in recent times, in the politics of mainstream Australia. If we shift the terms of context, the concept of representing self is reflected in our current government's justification in their policy on the stolen generation, the reconciliation process and other indigenous issues. I perceive this type of governing as repressive short sightedness. It not only prevents us from coming to terms with our national identity but, even more sadly, inhibits our future ability to truly and collaboratively mediate and reconcile with indigenous Australians. I was impressed with Dacre's conviction and I can appreciate there is integrity in representing self but I struggled to accept the absoluteness of her position especially when I reflected on the broader social and political structures that inform and influence my understanding of inter-cultural relationship.
The morning session covered extensive territory. Birch had inspired me with his frank description of the collaborative process, although I struggled in making the cultural leap from Australia to India and was left feeling slightly agitated by how difficult it was to establish a group discussion. I wondered how, if at all, it was possible in this context to tease out assumptions, debate problematic issues, and evaluate the ethics of inter-cultural mediation. Can we confront the issues without confrontation? Given the individuality of each experience, the broad range of experiences covered and the limitations of a one-day seminar I decided it felt more productive on this occasion to observe how the stories unfolded and absorb the opportunities and experiences shared.
After lunch Stewart Russell presented a textile project he undertook with Tiwi Design on the Tiwi Islands. Russell went with his knowledge of printing with iron oxide on damask, thinking it would be an appropriate technique for Tiwi Designs to use. He worked with the island designers for a number of months preparing and successfully printing lengths of fabric using the iron oxide technique. At this point Russell’s project seemed to diverge from the models set up earlier in the day by Best and Dacre. What I liked about this project was the next step that Russell took—he coordinated a partnership project between Tiwi Designs and the CountryWomen’s Association.Lengths of fabric printed by Tiwi designs were distributed to the CWA to be patchworked into quilts, and the resulting quilts were returned to Tiwi Design so they could see the results. This exchange had impact on the way the Tiwi viewed their designs; although traditional designs were typically printed one per cloth, the Tiwi designers began to fracture their designs in response to the way they appeared in the quilts.
Russell was quick to point out the limitations of, and the mistakes he felt he made in this project. One mistake was the investment he placed in teaching only one artist the intricacies of the iron oxide technique, this artist would leave shortly after Russell’s contact with the project finished and thus the knowledge he had taught was lost. Russell also coordinated an international extension to this project, travelling with the quilts and one of the Tiwi Islander artists to London, where the quilts were exhibited in a gallery setting. Russell reflected upon the strain this experience created for his travelling companion. Inclusiveness is of paramount concern when coordinating events bringing indigenous and non-indigenous people together and Russel’s experience points to the difficulties and considerations involved.
The forum drew to a close with Sarah Niner’s presentation on the textile designs of East Timor. Niner’s talk was not so much about mediation or collaboration as a report on the weaving methods and cultural beliefs associated with traditional textiles from this region. This was followed by a talk by Dili fashion designer Melena Verdial, detailing her ambition to create a fashion label using the textiles from her homeland. Verdial’s enthusiasm for this project was palpable; speaking through a translator she told of her initial exposure to international fashion through television and her dream to design clothes for men and women for an international market. The event was concluded with a parade of some of Verdial’s with clothes featuring fabrics woven in the traditional techniques of East Timor and modelled by members of Melbourne’s East Timorese community.
Towards the end of the day it occurred to me that the ‘you’ and the ‘me’ were not as I had initially assumed them to be. They were not constant, simply defined by a relationship located in the West and fixated on the indigenous/traditional other. As the day proceeded, this binarism morphed according to who was speaking and whom they were speaking about or to. At times I noticed a separation between these interchangeable entities and was left wondering was there a subtext we were avoiding, the ‘between’?
My attention drifted from the personalised experiences of craft practitioners to focus on how we as a group were mediating our relationships between presenters and audience, and audience members themselves. On a social level we seemed to be doing fine, but something remained elusive in the construct between speakers, both audience and presenters. I felt the discussion on ‘the role of craft practitioners in mediating between Western and traditional cultures’ needed to be taken further, and the format be an alternative to a pedagogic speaker and audience.
'Between You and Me' was a day packed with personalised stories of pilgrimages to unfamiliar places, new friendships and the teaching or learning of new craft skills. While I enjoyed hearing the practitioner's experiences, in order to discuss their role in the mediation process we needed to go beyond the personal and examine the processes by which projects are set up and evaluated, and in whose terms.
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