The Yelmo-Garang exhibit at Footscray Community Arts Centre is a site of cosy, family-friendly civic disruption, a gently seditious, liminal space blurring the lines between studio and gallery. It feels like your Nanna’s living room, complete with boiled sweets, cups of tea and Motown on the stereo. And like a trip to Nanna’s house, your visit gives you space to yarn safely, play freely and even write on the walls a little, but then you never know when she might belt you with the jug cord. The sign at the door warmly welcomes people of all cultures, sharply followed by a declaration that “Australia does not exist. These are the stolen lands of sovereign peoples.”
I caught up with curators Kate ten Buuren and Kat Clarke at the opening night. Kate is a Taungurung woman who recently curated Sky Country at the Blak Dot Gallery and Kat is a Wotjobaluk woman and a member of Melbourne’s Blak Writers. Both are working on a collective called This Mob with young emerging Indigenous artists, giving rise to this unique, interactive exhibit.
Yelmo-Garang is the Kulin word for “nest”, highlighting the centrepiece of the space: an eagle’s nest made from driftwood. Kat is the keeper of this sacred object of Bunjil the creator, which once sat atop a scar tree in the old Koorie Heritage Trust. Like an eagle’s nest, Yelmo-Garang is a site of powerful love and nurturing, but also a place where you might be devoured or ejected if you don’t belong there.
The rules on the door warn visitors clearly about what belongs and what doesn’t. All are welcome, but assertions of colonial privilege are not tolerated, and Indigenous expression is given centrality. An example: “Do not tone police our voices!”
All are invited to create and contribute to the exhibit, to add and even carry away items that are offered to them, so I sit and yarn with the curators then write up this piece while my daughter draws an anime portrait on the wall, and children play on the table beside me.
The décor is kitsch, with tin magpies and op-shop bric-a-brac galore. Kat scrawls live poetry of welcome in English and Aboriginal language on the wall in the softly subversive space, while Elders stand yarning and parents read books to their bubs in a snuggly alcove. Kat and Kate share with me the layers of meaning built into their work.
On the surface, they say, it is a space for all the community to be immersed in the creative process in a culturally safe zone for artists to work, with a focus on First Nations expression. On another level, it tests the limits not only of what can be done in a gallery, but more importantly, who belongs there. The content and artefacts of art and culture are not on display here; rather, the process of creating these things is exhibited in an elusive frame. In an Aboriginal worldview, this includes the relationships, communities and conversations that spiral inwards and outwards from the work. Kate asserts that this is an act of decolonising the gallery space and speaking back to the white gaze.
In the end the outcomes of the work depend upon the community members who choose to inhabit the space. It remains to be seen over the course of the next month whether this work will achieve its goals or descend into a bohemian debauch, as occurred with Andy Warhol’s attempt at a similar work. But something tells me the rules at the door and the air of Nanna’s Law will keep the ferals in check.
Yelmo-Garang runs until July 29 in the Gabriel Gallery at Footscray Community Arts Centre. You can check out the concurrent exhibition Scattered Tribes: Healing Through Kinship while you're there.
Check out our hit list of the best art to see in Melbourne this month.