cultural identity
A key thread presents Watson’s viewpoint and research-driven practice as an Aboriginal woman within a matrilineal line of strong matriarchs.
rattling the bones of the museum
My work talks about concealed histories that concern Aboriginal people. To me it becomes more personalised when talking about things that have happened up in north-west Queensland in my grandmother’s Country.
Judy Watson
Through her numerous artist residencies and related research into historical documents, Judy Watson re-humanises Aboriginal cultural material held in archives, libraries and museums. Watson refers to her interrogation of historic records as ‘rattling the bones of the museum’.
A key facet of Watson’s research is her approach to layering maps of land and waterways with lines reintroducing hidden truths about the removal of Aboriginal people, artefacts and DNA from Country. This layering is evident in the compositions and techniques employed by Watson as she responds to the abhorrent political, anthropological and museum practices revealed in documents held in Australian and international archives.
There are layers to Watson’s description of ‘working from the ground up’. Informed by her expertise in the compositional techniques of printmaking, for Watson ‘ground’ can refer not only to the surface but also the background of an artwork. Watson often lays her canvases on the ground and builds up their first layer with raw material from Country and other sources worked into the surface. In her prints, historical images and documents are pressed into the fibre of archival paper. Whether working onto the white wall of a gallery, the concrete floor of a public space or the vegetation of a green space, the ‘ground’ is significant when viewing Watson’s installations and sculptures. For her, ‘working from the ground up’ brings history into contemporary life and cuts through to a core longing to reunite displaced culture with Country.
Watson’s artist book under the act 2007 was developed through her research into the Queensland State Archives, Brisbane, which unearthed government documents that refer to her great-grandmother Mabel Daley and grandmother Grace Isaacson (pictured with Joyce Watson, Judy’s mother, on the cover of the artist book). These documents produced by the Department of Native Affairs float across the wash representing the blood of Aboriginal people. These works honour Watson’s matrilineal lineage and invite viewers to bear witness to policies designed to systemically separate Indigenous Australians from human rights, culture and Country.
In an overt display, 40 pairs of blackfellows ears, lawn hill station 2008, Watson references a diary entry of 8 February 1883 by Emily Caroline Creaghe, who recorded her visit to Lawn Hill Station on Waanyi Country. Here she witnessed a macabre scene: ‘40 pairs of blacks’ ears nailed around the walls, collected during raiding parties after the loss of many cattle speared by the blacks’. By executing the artwork as a simple rendition of that spectacle — as a wall-based installation of cast wax ears — Watson shares its horror and brutality.
From a distance, viewers may be intrigued to find out what these small forms are, but on closer inspection the sheer gruesome nature of these human trophies becomes clear. Each ear has been cast from colleagues, friends and family of the artist, created with the assistance of Kokatha and Nukunu artist Yhonnie Scarce.
For burnt shield 2002, Watson primed the canvas before placing it onto the blackened earth — the canvas coloured by the soil it lay upon. As she explains:
I coated the canvas in acrylic binder medium and placed it sticky-side down onto the blackened ground. The landscape is different, the termite mounds, the grasses and bush is different. After a ‘burn-off’, everything green sprouts really quickly.5
Later in her studio, Watson added the white shield image, a dual reference to her Indigenous and European heritage. The delicate white line work emulates the fine-line carving technique found on Aboriginal shields from the Central Desert and north-western and western Queensland. The shape of the shield is also reminiscent of the coat of arms of various European families encountered on the artist’s travels in Italy. Watson uses this image as an ironic signifier of her dual heritage. The triangular shield form also refers to the pubis area of the female body, signifying both female sexuality and the developing life of a child in the womb.
5. Judy Watson, conversation with Avril Quaill, 20 February 2003.
Judy Watson’s memory bones 2007 was created at the zenith of the political ferment surrounding the death in custody of Mulrunji Doomadgee on Palm Island, and subsequent charging of Senior Sergeant Chris Hurley with assault and manslaughter. Represented in this work are Mulrunji’s fractured ribs and blood, as he lay dying with fatal internal injuries in a cell within the police station.
In 1995–96, Watson visited the collections of the Horniman Museum, Science Museum, and Museum of Mankind, London, and museums in Cambridge and Oxford, while researching Aboriginal collections in British museums. Her visit raised questions about how the cultural material in these museums was acquired. our bones in your collections, our hair in your collections, and our skin in your collections 1997 reference the turmoil that confronts Indigenous people when they consider ancestral human remains in museum collections.
In her study of the objects in the museums, Watson wondered if those objects twined with human hair might include some of her own matrilineal ancestors’ hair. The relics that are etched in these prints come from the Gulf of Carpentaria, near Watson’s ancestral Country. They are based on her drawings of armbands, a head band, a fringed skirt, and a pituri bag used for the storing and trading of pituri (native tobacco).
The prints’ titles clearly refer to the macabre ethnocentric practice in Western anthropology of collecting and keeping human remains.
Watson’s moving-image work the names of places 2016 relies on research that expands the mapping of massacres across the continent. Stories handed down orally through generations are combined with data drawn from historical sources to portray the extent of frontier violence, in both numerical and geographical terms.
Waterways were often sites of massacres. Countless creeks, rivers, water holes, waterfalls, bays, bluffs and peaks still bear names that refer to the violent history of Australia’s frontier wars.
Watson’s series the holes in the land 2015 juxtaposes architectural plans of the British Museum, London, with silhouettes of selected Aboriginal Australian artefacts held within the institution. In these works, Watson seeks to understand how objects from Aboriginal culture have been taken and displaced in institutions that were built on colonial interests. In the four-plate etchings, Watson sees the floor plans of the British Museum as the bones of the work, washed with the blood of black bodies. Across this she floats shadows of Aboriginal cultural objects held within the Museum’s collections. The removal of the objects from Aboriginal Country has left a depression where those objects once rested.
Indigenous Arts and Culture Series: Judy Watson, Zimmerle Art Museum
A key thread presents Watson’s viewpoint and research-driven practice as an Aboriginal woman within a matrilineal line of strong matriarchs.
Exploring feminism through some of Watson’s early works, as well as her approach to collaborative practice.
Focus on Country and ecosystems, particularly waterways, informed by cultural practices and scientific analyses of climate change.