Take the road less travelled
LUTRUWITA: ALL ROADS LEAD TO HOME Nunami Sculthorpe-Green, Joshua Santospirito Moonah Arts Centre Until April 6
Lutruwita: All roads lead to home is an exhibition about words. This sounds simple, and it is on one level, but there’s another level on which it’s one of the more complex and special exhibitions we might see this, or any, year.
With this exhibit we’re presented with a large, wall-covering image of the island of Lutruwita, this island, this place. The map is a combination of collaged, torn glossy paper, that looks like it’s been harvested from tourism brochures. Throughout the map, there are place names all in Palawa Kani, the reconstructed language of the Palawa people, the original inhabitants and custodians of this place. The history here is one of resilience and pride. Nonetheless, titanic and persistent efforts have been made to use all existing documentation to reconstruct language, to deal with the issues that surround what records exist, and from all this work and thought, there’s Palawa Kani. Palawa people use it, there’s an actual grammar gleaned from remarkable meticulous research, and there are place names and words for plants and animals. Some of them are part of this exhibition. It’s important to note this artwork was also made by the Palawa community; it’s a powerful way to express culture, by placing the true names on a map without translation.
From the large, central map on the back wall of the place, Joshua Santospirito, working with Palawa artist Nunami Sculthorpe-Green, has drawn tendrils of colour that stretch out to drawings of plants and creatures of Lutruwita. Each drawing has a label, just in Palawa Kani.
There’s no English ‘translation’ – just a word and an image. I recognise purinina instantly – the large, dangerous looking jaw, the small strong body, leaping, muscular and funny. It’s a Tasmanian devil, but it’s not, now, it’s purinina. There’s prupilathia, a wombat, trimanya, echidna. Santospirito clearly had some fun here; all his drawings are lively and bright. There’s plenty of space; everything is clear and accessible.
There’s also nothing that will exist after the end of the show beyond the words. Everything is attached to, or drawn directly on, the gallery wall. When this exhibition ends, all the work will be removed or painted over. The drawings will exist as a memory, the map will disappear, but the language, the names of places, the words for animals – they remain, and anyone who sees this work can learn to use them too. There’s even a request to do so written on the gallery wall – an invitation to begin to use some Palawa Kani terms. That’s the purpose here; and that is what will remain, and given how precious Palawa Kani truly is, and how much work has led up to this exhibition, the offer to share just a few words is profoundly generous.
This is a moving exhibition that is making an amazing offer: here are some words. Take the time, try and memorise them, use them. Here they are. The rest is up to you.