JOHN WILLIAM LINDT

This first photograph was taken in 1873 back in photography's earliest days, by John William Lindt, who is one of the pioneers of the photographic medium.

Historically the vast geographic distance from Australia to the Northern Hemisphere centers, did contribute in obscuring the wealth of talented fine art photographers living 'down under'. As ever-changing technologies shrink the globe, these advances enable more photographers to reach international markets through 'traditional' exhibitions, increased book publishing and online galleries.

Australians however were never disadvantaged in their experimentation and use of early to modern photographic innovations. The pace of technical and stylistic development of photography, always reflected that of Europe and the US. Influences were gleaned from the world's most noted photographers, however the distance also contributed, and continues to contribute, to a unique perspective found in Australian photography.

Given the country's climatic and geographic diversity, coupled with a unique sociological and multi-cultural outlook, Australian photographers found stimulus in a country that had white settlement beginnings in 1770, and indigenous roots reflecting back 60,000 years to one of the oldest civilizations in the world.

John William Lindt was born in Germany in 1845 and died in Australia in 1926, after migrating there in 1862, when he ran away to sea at age seventeen, and worked his passage on a Dutch ship arriving in Melbourne Australia. Supporting himself as a piano-tuner, he traveled through the outback and settled in Grafton just north of Sydney, where he became an apprentice to a local photographer.

In 1870 Lindt took over the business and opened a new studio, specializing in cart-de-visite portraits, but also producing landscapes and architectural shots. It was here that Lindt created his most noted series, the ‘Album of Australian Aboriginals'.

These photographs were probably the most widely distributed images of Aboriginal subjects in the second half of the nineteenth century. Then using cumbersome wet-plate negatives, his attempts to record Aboriginal people on their land, in natural settings were mostly unsuccessful.

Lindt finally brought them into his studio, in order to create aesthetically pleasing images, that detailed information about their indigenous way of life. To create his studio tableaux photographs, Lindt made artificial settings with painted backgrounds of wild mountains, and captured images considered to be "the first successful attempt at representing the native blacks truthfully as well as artistically." As written by biographer Shar Jones.

To create these portraits from an anthropological perspective, Lindt took great care in portraying his subjects from childhood, maturity and old age, and clearly tried to show Aborigines as they lived before European contact, however subtle signs of the cultural change that resulted from the confrontation with white civilization are present.

Detailing skin textures and intricate scarification, these portraits capture compelling expressions, often depicted purely in their eyes.

Shar Jones writes" These portraits had immediacy and realism. While the images appear contrived and static now, Lindt believed that he was documenting Aboriginal life without idealizing it, and his 19th Century audience agreed with him. It is only now, with the advantage of hindsight and objectivity, that we can appreciate that Lindt's efforts to construct a compilation of the typical, relied dangerously on his own interpretation of native life, and denied spontaneity."

Between 1876 and 1894 Lindt played an important part in the development of photography in Australia. Enduring arduous travels that by today's standards seem insurmountable, Lindt continued to do overseas trips to explore the new advances in photography. By 1880 Lindt pioneered the use of Charles Bennett's newly developed dry plate method in Australia.

Lindt went on to receive acclaim by his fellow photographers as the outstanding photographer of the 1880s. He was appointed a councilor of the Royal Geographic Society in 1893. Recognition for his photographs came again in recent years, by the J Paul Getty Museum curator, Weston Naef, who selected Lindt as one of his personal ten favorite photographers.

May take out Its interesting to note that at this time, the majority of 19th Century Australian photographers were concerned with recording the character and progress of the country or the stern faces of the settlers. It was not until the 1890s that a conscious movement, aimed at using the camera more creatively, made its appearance.

The new trend was called 'pictorialism' and came from England. The term reflected a desire to make evocative pictures rather than mere records. Pictorialists used photography as an art medium with little concern for its value as a record. Most of Lindt's work hovered between pictorialist abstraction and photojournalism.

NICOLE CUMPSTON

The photography exhibition that you are seeing today is by Nicole Cumpston and Andrew Dunbar, titled Nakkondi/Look.

This exhibition is a snapshot of ‘real' lives of indigenous Australians across the spectrum of experience. Andrew and Nicole created a collection of 100 photographs to celebrate the 100 years of the Century. The exhibition opened the world renowned Adelaide Arts Festival, and was the first event that had an Aboriginal focus to do so in the 40-year history of the Festival.

Nakkondi/Look looks at contemporary lives of the people themselves. The photographers have approached the project with ‘open eyes' and invite their audience to do likewise: to look and see Aboriginal people as they really are, not as they may be conventionally portrayed.

This is an image of Mark Blackman by Nicole Cumpston.
Nicole's photographic work is a reflection of her affinity with people, their culture and the environment.

This photograph is of Sandi Peel and t-ji-ka (Tjilka) – Sandi has Irish descent and wanted to portray this by including the celtic cross. She is an accomplished singer songwriter and always has Tjilka at her side.

Nicole's own family background is Aboriginal, Afghan, English and Irish. She says that for her, its important to have this known in order to set the scene, as she is intent on showing the diversity amongst all. Nicole says, "I don't particularly look like any of these nationalities and I want people to know how different we all are.

Most of the portraits were thought about and planned with the subjects, but there are a few that happened whilst Nicole had a camera in hand.
This spontanous photograph captures a moment when Mali climbed onto her Mother's lap, and then Djani couldn't resist, he had to join in and put on a show of affection for his little sister. Nicole says that she always smiles when she see's this photograph.

Nicole and Andrew are more than photographic collaborators. As an indigenous Australian Nicole works as a lecturer in photography at the Taoundi Aboriginal College at Port Adelaide, and Andrew is a multi-award winning, white, male photographer who regularly travels and exhibits around the world. They are cultural collaborators in a simple, but significant social project.

Nicole says that "It helped that we are both quite like minded about what we wanted to portray and what we understood about the people, and it mainly comes down to respect.

Nicole and Andrew say their aim is to present an honest account of the Aboriginal community today - of elders, children, families and workers.

They said that "Wherever possible we'd like to portray people in their own environment in order to give the photograph a narrative about their lives". "We're only photographing people who give their permission and are interested in being part of the project and we're inviting them to be involved in the creative process, in an endeavour to give a true representation of Aboriginal life at this point in time."

Nicole was also there at the right time with this photograph of Joni and Chevy. Joni had came off of the skate board and was ordered to sit quietly, which is a very rare moment.

This photograph is by Nicole's Uncle Clem O'Loughlin. She says that he is a wonderful man and is an elder within the community. In 1996 he received the award for South Australian 'Aboriginal Elder of the Year'. In 1999 he was the 'Most Outstanding Older Learner of the Year, and he has been a long time employee of Tauondi College for 26 years.

This next photograph is of Kirstie Parker. She is a journalist and currently the Director of the National Aboriginal Cultural Institute, called Tandanya. This painting is by Samantha Cook, and was the first major piece of art that Kirstie had bought.

Kirstie says that she liked it because it is the sort of thing you'd see on a street or park mural. It dusts off the words from our National Anthem, 'Australians all let us rejoice, for we are young and free', and gives them a good shake and then claims them - with more than a little irony - for Aboriginal people".

Proceeds from sales of photographs by Andrew and Nicole will be donated to the Tandanya National Aboriginal Cultural Institute in South Australia.

ANDREW DUNBAR

This photograph is of Major Sumner taken by Andrew Dunbar. Both he and Nicole attended this corroboree in South Australia, and it was the first time in 100 years that people had come together to celebrate and share stories and information.

Andrew says that the atmosphere at this event was electric. There were over 200 performers from all over Australia. It was a wonderful picture taking opportunity and all of the people there were very proud.
Andrew's career began in photojournalism prior to studying in the USA and Australia in the mid-eighties.

Since 1996 he has been the recipient of over forty awards and commendations including the prestigious Ilford Trophy. In the United States his work has been exhibited alongside such luminaries as Annie Leibovitz, Man Ray, Edward S. Curtis, and Diane Arbus.

MELISSA MCCORD

Next are photographs by Melissa McCord. This image of Lorna Blackwall, is from her best-selling book ‘Outback Women'. In 1986 at age 21, Melissa traveled alone more than 50,000 kilometres across some the most remote areas of Australia, to gather the oral histories and photograph the women who she found living there.

Melissa was raised on an extremely remote cattle property in Queensland, and is intrigued by the paradox of isolation, and the characters that dwell in relative anonymity within the harsh environment of the Australian outback. She documents her figures in the landscape to bring to life the human spirit, in an environment of stark beauty and defiance of the hardship of their surroundings.
This photograph is one of my favorite photos by Melissa, of Hilda Jarvis, who lives in an extremely remote area of Western Australia, where she raises goats for her livelihood plus her own food.

These next few photographs are from Melissa's second book "A Field of Short Poppies". Melissa did research and took the photographs for the book in 1992, when she was eight months pregnant with her son Dusty.

And I want to tell you an amazing story in Melissa's book and unfortunately I don't have the photograph on slide however it is in the book and I will pass it around for you to see while Im telling the story.

This particular photograph by Melissa is called the Anthill Dream, and sets the scene for her story.
Melissa had reached Uluru, which is formerly known as Ayres Rock, and it was here that she met an Aboriginal Elder called Dickie.

Dickie took a first look at Melissa, and said that her baby was lying crossways, rather than head down, which is what Melissa had been told on her last check-up. This was of some concern, as it could mean she'd need a Caesarian, for Western medicine has no way of manipulating the baby in the womb. To her amazement, Dickie informed her that he would ‘turn ‘im round'.

Melissa decided that she must try to interview Dickie for the book, however she was informed that he had been ostracized from the community once before, when he had allowed himself to be videoed without permission. Melissa was told that had to ask permission from Jon Willis, who was in charge of the Mutitjulu Aboriginal community at Uluru. Melissa says that the fact that Jon is white seems at odds with what she had heard about Uluru being ‘handed back' to the native owners.

When the last tourists had left, Dickie took Melissa into the spinifex, out of sight, and performed his baby turning magic on her. She found it impossible to describe later just what he had done, as he chanted and pressed her belly at various points.

The next day they went with Dickie to Katatjuta (the Olgas). Travelling up a large ravine, Dickie showed them what was left of ancient markings on the way, ones that had survived the unheeding shoes of tourists, and he told them of the Mamu spirits there, that could be a danger to the unwary.

When they had come to a point where the gorge narrowed and the air was still, Dickie stopped. ‘Here, you can take my picture now. This is safe.'

And Melissa took his picture using a friend's back as a tripod. In the end Melissa didn't get permission to do his interview, however her baby turned around four days later, with head down, in perfect position.

This next photograph is of one of Australia's most celebrated Aboriginal painters, Emily Kane Kngwarreye.

This photograph was taken in 1992, when Emily was over 80 years old and lived in the Utopia community, which is about 400 kilometres northeast of the Alice Springs. Although she has only been exhibiting her paintings since 1988, Emily has received much acclaim. In 1989 she was granted a $10,000 scholarship that enabled her to buy a much-loved four-wheel drive, plus food and clothing for her immediate family.

The Utopia people, instead of living in one township, have chosen to live in small family groups that are scattered about. This great artist, whose works are part of the Australian National Gallery, the National Gallery of Victoria, and who represented Australia in the 1997 Venice Biennale, lives in extremely humble conditions.
Melissa tells the story of her first meeting with Emily.

"Our first glimpse of Em was of a tiny little person, shuffling over to our guide's car. She was obviously glad to see him, and welcomed us warmly. The first thing she said, in Pidgin, was that she was worried, some of the men had been drinking and had made her nervous, and she was thinking of moving camp. We were led by Emily over to her home, which was this tin box with holes cut in the sides for windows, that you can see in the background.

Emily had made it quite clear to us that we were welcome to stay and talk, so I plonked down with her amid sand and dogs, saying that I had heard that she was sick and didn't want to see anyone. She looked up questioningly, and paused for a moment before her response. She said ‘Me sicka paintin'.' Then she giggled, coyly, just like a young girl would.

The interview was disastrous. Kathleen who was the translator, was very nice, but in no way had the kind of grasp of English necessary to complete this task. A classic example of the language and cultural differences facing me, was when I asked Emily, via Kathleen. "What is one of the hardest things, challenges, you have had?' Her reply came after some time.

"That time I carried big kangaroo up sandhill." However, when she got the question about where her inspiration came from, she drew a circle in the sand, this we understood completely.


Melissa's photo-documentary project, Hands That Rock My Country, was conceived during a long period of grief and turmoil following her 21 year old sister's suicide on their family property in outback Queensland. Melissa reflected on the life stories of the outback and rural people she had known and found a great deal of solace in their uncomplicated, earthy approach to life.

Melissa feels that the epidemic of rural youth suicide in Australia has its roots in the fractured uncertainty young people now have about their future. "Another tragic symptom of the rural recession or the malady of modern culture?" she asks.

JOHN OGDEN

This next photographer is John Ogden, whose book titled ‘Australienation', draws on three decades of photographic work in Australia - from the election of Gough Whitlam in 1972 and the beginnings of land rights, to the new millennium and our current Prime Minister, John Howard's inability to say sorry in an era of reconciliation.

John has also chosen to highlight his personal attitude towards political and controversial issues. His photographs are traditional, purist and documentary in approach.
John had documented aboriginal children in the Northern Territory and the troubled indigenous community in inner city Sydney and local prisons.
While shooting a film in the Northern Territory John tells this story.

"A group of old Pintubi men gather at a sacred site somewhere in the Western Desert. It is several days by car from the nearest track. These old men grew up under traditional tribal lore, without contact with white culture. Sitting around the night fire, I listen to them speak in their native tongue and realise that I am an alien, an intruder. On that day, it became clearer to me than ever before, that every day, anywhere in Australia, Aborigines are made to feel outcastes in their own land.

Australia is considered to be a multi-cultural society, but I would argue that it is better described as bi-cultural, because this recognises the vast contrast between the first inhabitants, and any of the many cultures that came later.

The two cultures were and are philosophically opposed. Indigenous Australians view themselves as custodians of the land, with a responsibility to preserve and protect it for future generations. In general, we newcomers perceive the land as a commodity, that can be relentlessly exploited for gain. As we hurtle into the 21st century, modern society could learn much from Aboriginal people, about the continuum between the past and the future.

This photograph is of (nu-kata jup-ar-ula) Ngukata Tjupurrula, who was born in Pintupi country, which is a remote part of the Western Desert on the border of the Northern Territory and Western Australia. He grew up untouched by white society until he was a young man. After "contact", his family left their home to join their relatives and friends on reserves and missions.

In the late 1940s, Nu-kata and his brother Nosepeg, were arrested for a minor crime at Haasts Bluff near Alice Springs. The arresting officer handcuffed the two men, but Nu-kata, fearful of being taken away from the security of country and family, escaped. He ran fast and far until he reached his home country to the south of Lake MacDonald. He tried to free himself of the cuffs by banging them against rocks, but because they were of the old ratchet type, the more he struggled, the more they tightened. The steel cut into his wrists causing the flesh to swell.

Meanwhile, Nosepeg was released. He set off to the west in search of his brother, and found him, in a cave, which was by then heavy with the smell of putrefying flesh. Nosepeg helped his brother back to Haasts Bluff, but it was too late to save Nu-kata's arm, which had turned gangrenous. The police stopped using ratchet handcuffs shortly after, and Nu-kata was granted a pension. For the next twenty years or so, he subsisted in settlements set up for people from the Western Desert.

During the 1970s, many Pintupi people turned their backs on the lethargy and decay of the settlements, and began to re-occupy their homelands. The pressures experienced in the settlements were finally acknowledged, and amended at a rate determined by Aboriginal people. Many were able to reclaim their heritage – the connection between the earth of their homelands and their beliefs – through the gathering of Aboriginal Law, in family visits to ceremonial places, and in singing their country's stories and beliefs.

Nu-kata died in 1987. He passed on his knowledge of Aboriginal Law, but his death is a milestone because he was among the last to know the land in the old way – as his forefathers had, for 50,000 years before the coming of Europeans.

This photograph was taken in 1999 at the Maximum Security Wing in the Bathurst Correctional Facility. In NSW prisons, at the end of the twentieth century, Aborigines represent 14 per cent of those in full-time custody. Nationally, Indigenous adults represent less than 2 per cent of the Australian adult population, but approximately 19 per cent of the total prison population. Despite the millions of dollars spent on enquiries, Indigenous people were significantly over-represented in the number of deaths in custody during 1998: more than 17 per cent of custodial deaths were Indigenous people.

Several inner city suburbs of Sydney are part of an area that traditionally belonged to the Gadigal peoples, a clan of the (daroog) Dharug. This land was densely populated because of the rich resources, but in 1790, smallpox decimated hundreds of the Dharug. Today, the Aboriginal population is concentrated in various enclaves.

In 1973, the Federal Government released a grant to fund a housing project in one inner city area known as Redfern, marking the beginning of urban land rights. Known as "The Block" it is a special place for Aboriginal people driven from the country into the city, and is regarded as the "Sydney water-hole", a gathering place for Aborigines from anywhere in Australia.

There is a strong sense of community in the Block seldom found in suburban Sydney. While Aboriginal people quietly move towards self-autonomy, political forces have come in to play and this social laboratory for housing is almost totally lost to urban gentrification.

The Block has since been pulled down and the Aboriginals moved out, in order to beautify the city for the Sydney 2000 Olympics.
Redfern is generally regarded as a focal point for drug use in Sydney. There is a proportion of Aboriginal people within this community who are using drugs and alcohol, as there is the wider community, and it is a real concern.

Low levels of education, lack of employment skills, a high unemployment rate and transient home life, all provide a fertile background for drug dealings, crime, death, addiction, overdoses and a high arrest rate.

These are symptomatic of a greater problem and a grim reminder of the failure of policy, or lack of will, on the part of the wider community to address the severe disadvantages experienced by Indigenous Australians.

I have copies of John's book Australienation, and some prints here for you to look at, as I unfortunately have only 3 slides because the rest were also stolen during this recent exhibition.

STEPHANIE FLACK

These next photographs by Stephanie Flack, take us back out to the remote areas of Australia, to Palm Island, which is located off the far north coast of Queensland. Palm Island is the largest Aboriginal community in Australia, with a population of around 3,500 people.

This community dates back to the early 1900s, when Aboriginals from all over the state of Queensland, were moved into settlements as part of the government's efforts to segregate them from white society.

This resulted in the fragmentation of a once powerful heritage and the loss of a deep-rooted culture.

It was in an extreme political climate that Stephanie came to shoot the story of Palm Island. In 1997, a government report titled "Bringing Them Back Home", concluded that Australian State and Territory governments, had forcibly removed thousands of half-caste Aboriginal children from their families, from the 1920s to the early 1970s. These children had been placed into foster care or church missions, where incidents of physical and sexual abuse occurred.

The Government, during those years, engaged in a campaign of compulsory assimilation. It was in later years that government documents, were shown to reveal an even more sinister motive, than that of a single goal to assimilate these children.

Documents from the 1930s predicted that the outcome would be that full-blooded Aboriginals would eventually die out, and that half-caste children would, within several generations, blend into the dominant white society.
"Bringing Them Back Home" described the policy of forced removal genocide, and it called on the government to issue a formal response and create a tribunal to determine levels of compensation.

The report, revealed the extent of forced removal, which went on for 150 years into the early 1970s; its consequences in terms of broken families, shattered physical and mental health, loss of language, culture and connection to traditional land, loss of parenting skills; and the enormous distress of many of its victims today.

Australians have grown up believing that Aborigines were altruistically taken out of wretched conditions, to be offered the immense benefits of white society. Now a National Inquiry was describing the practice in terms of a horrifying crime. For eight months the Government made no response except to say that there would be no national apology, and no compensation would be paid.

The existing Federal Government, and the current Howard Government, ignored the recommendations of the Report and, to this day, no action has been taken to officially address nor remedy the forced removals.

The Palm Island Aborigines suffer many of the social problems that are inherent in indigenous communities throughout the world: a high rate of unemployment, drug and alcohol abuse and domestic violence.

Due to its isolation, Palm Island additionally became an ideal setting for the removal of people seen as troublemakers, and those accused of criminal offences and acts of indiscipline.

Palm Island was transformed from being a beautiful and spiritual land of the traditional Aboriginals owners, to a government mission or settlement.

Stephanie says that there was a great deal of skepticism, from a small part of the white medical community on Palm Island, because of the way that the media had negatively portrayed this community in the past.

Rather than sensationalising the difficulties found in this community, Stephanie instead chose to look beyond these issues to portray them with dignity and respect.

Wherever Stephanie wandered in town, she always found herself back at the jetty. She says it was the most interesting place for her photographically - it was the place where the children played, people fished, and the boats came and left.

Although there are schools on the island these ‘Jetty' kids didn't go. However, American culture is so pervasive on the island that quite often when Stephanie raised her camera they would flash her gang signs.

During her stay on the Island, Stephanie visited both the women's shelter and the hospital but she chose not to shoot the broken noses and black eyes that were often delivered through domestic abuse.

The beautiful glistening bodies of the playful boys who were jumping off the jetty, portray a nature that is both simultaneously affected, and unaffected, by their personal and collective history, and the beautiful landscape in which they live.

Stephanie says that "she struggled with the conflict between illumination and exploitation of the social problems endemic in the community. She wanted to show the dignity of these people yet, at the same time, be honest about the circumstances in which they live.

That concludes the lecture, and I encourage you to look through the photographers work on http://www.alisonholland.com/indigenous_australians.htm

© Commissionaire 2006