BRAVE NEW WORLD
As the first Indigenous artistic director of the Biennale of Sydney, Brook Andrew has curated an experience like no other, looking to First Nations cultures and revealing forgotten histories.
As the first Indigenous artistic director of the Biennale of Sydney, Brook Andrew has curated an experience like no other, looking to First Nations cultures and forgotten histories
Nirin, the title of the 22nd Biennale of Sydney translates to ‘edge’ in Wiradjuri, the language of Australian artist Brook Andrew’s mother. As artistic director of this year’s Biennale, Andrew — who grew up in Sydney and now resides between Berlin, Melbourne and the UK, where he is undertaking a PhD at the University of Oxford — is championing not only Australia’s indigenous cultures but also those of First Nations artists and communities from around the world. From Haiti, one of the first countries to rebel against slavery, to Ghana, Egypt and Nepal, Andrew is providing a platform for artists to tell the kind of stories that don’t usually rate a mention in the dominant European vision of the world. Not unlike his own personal work, this Biennale, says Andrew, “focuses on the things that are often left out… the forgotten histories”.
At its heart, the Biennale is about the power of collaboration and what happens when artists and cultures from the edge of society are placed at its centre. It’s about the power of First Nations coming together, the power of community. It’s also about the power of the simple things in life — stories, ceremony and food — and how they can act as a natural language and a bridge between vastly different societies.
Andrew’s Biennale is an ambitious undertaking not only for its 700 works on show across Sydney’s major galleries, including the Museum of Contemporary Art, the Art Gallery of New South Wales and Campbelltown Arts Centre, but also for its program of more than 600 events. “I want the wider audiences who probably don’t even know what a Biennale is to know that they can come and see people and communities who are creating artworks or experiences that maybe reflect their own experience,” says Andrew. Here, he talks about his personal history and the joy of collaboration. I grew up with an Aboriginal mother and a Celtic father with Jewish ancestry. We come from a big family — Mum’s one of seven — her family is from Erambie mission. I think that growing up in that very strong, female-led Aboriginal family, our identity was very present in our everyday life, but out in the public, it wasn’t. I was always very curious about why we weren’t learning about these other stories at school. We hear a lot about living in two worlds, and I think there’s a lot of denial about other peoples’ histories.
Even asylum seekers. If we look at the pragmatics of history in Australia, the British were the original asylum seekers here, though they came to create an expanded gaol system for the British Empire. The convicts were the first to come, then the free settlers. Australia was invaded and founded for convicts to come here from London because the Thames was teeming with convicts, and the colonies in North America couldn’t receive them anymore. When I think about all of those identities, I think this is the kind of complexity in Australia that is often
hidden, or that we don’t like to reflect on. I believe a dominant Australian narrative still holds on to a racist past due to the land grab and draconian laws placed on Aboriginal people, and also xenophobia towards Asia and some other cultural groups. My friends who have come to Australia include people from Croatia, Assyria, Pakistan, Lithuania, Chile, the Pacific Islands and China. Some of them were lucky to learn the language of their birthplace but a lot of new Australians didn’t want their kids to learn that language. They wanted them to blend in. This Biennale is a reflection of that complexity, which requires visibility. These complex histories make Australia what it is, and are a mirror of modern migration across the globe. We are all people of movement. We’re not fixed.
The Biennale’s philosophical approach is very much about collaboration. This collaborative elasticity is something I find really rewarding and is essential for a wider audience to enter the artworks and events of the exhibition. It doesn’t always come up with resolutions or final outcomes but I really hope that there is a strong sense of new possibilities — where people can open themselves up to things that they haven’t thought about or maybe it’s mirroring what they already think.
Even for me, I’m still very moved by a lot of the artworks. They’re all works that are urgent and are happening to people today. One of the most striking pieces is by Erkan Özgen, which features a group of women in the Middle East with a very strong Islamic tradition, talking. They reflect on their current situation; they’ve only recently found out who ISIS or the Taliban are, and now their lives are tragically destroyed. So, they themselves who are from the same faith didn’t even know who ISIS was. The kind of information we’re fed in Western media has no emotional intelligence or sensibility or even actual true factual storyline about that. It sets up this incredibly complicated system within humanity that divides people. I’m hoping that these artworks bring people together. VL
Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the Biennale of Sydney is now adapting its exhibitions into an online experience including live content, virtual walk-throughs and podcasts; visit biennaleofsydney.art
“With this Biennale, it’s that complexity that we need to have visible. Those complex histories make not only Australia what it is, but also the world”