We Need to Talk About Gauguin?

- I'm sorry, I'm just engaging and enjoying the whisperings going on over here. Today we're presenting this conversation from the lands of the Ngunnawal and Ngambri peoples of the Kamberri region. My name's Cara Kirkwood. I'm a Mandandanji, Bidjara, and Mithaka woman from Central Queensland, and I'm the Head of First Nations Engagement here at the National Gallery of Australia. It is my pleasure to welcome you all here today for this, I guess, step in an important conversation. Do we need to talk about Gauguin? This conversation comes, forms part of the lead up, I must put my glasses on. That's crazy talk trying to read without that. In the lead up to the exhibition, Gauguin's World: Tōna Iho, Tōna Ao, curated by Henri Loyrette, which opens at the National Gallery on the 29th of June. So a special welcome to our audiences from across Australia today. We've got a huge number of online participants. And especially, we've got a big cohort of you from across the Moana. So if you're looking at us, you're watching us from today from the Moana, welcome to Australia, and welcome to this talk. And for those of you in the room with us today, welcome to you as well because, in fact, I think this is going to be a talk with a little bit of a difference. I think this is gonna be a talk that you're gonna feel in your bones. I know I will after I've sat down. I'd like to acknowledge some special guests in the room. We've got some friends from our New Zealand High Commission, so thank you. But we do have two very special guests joining us from Raiatea today, and that is Miss Lee up in the back corner. I like to think of her, she would tell me that she is not a queen, but I think of her as the absolute matriarch and queen of Raiatea, having been there, and Tahi Pariente, her son, who you've just met on stage. Your hospitality while we travelled last year to Raiatea and French Polynesia was extraordinary, generous, and very humbling, so thank you. So thanks to, also, the Director who, Mr. Nick, Dr. Nick Mitzevich, for accompanying Paul House today, proving that we've all got our ways and we all step forward towards our journey, reconciliation. It takes courage to stand up here, Nick, and we're grateful for it, so thank you for sharing that. We've got some friends in the audience too. We've got some of our favourite professors. There's Katarina, Taiarahia, and a good friend of the gallery, Professor Maree Meredith, so I'd just like to acknowledge you guys as well. So let's think about what we're doing today. And so we're here to talk about Gauguin. Today's conversation is an important step in engaging with the complex legacies left by that fella, and perhaps this talk more accurately centres on our curiosity. Did Gauguin make Tahiti, or did Tahiti make Gauguin? Today, I wanna also note that in honour of the islands today across the Moana, there's a few of us going bare feet. So if you wanna get amongst that, please do. This theatre has the plushest carpet in, I'd say, most NCIs currently standing. Today, we're gonna introduce, there's actually a Slido that's gonna pop up in a moment. We'll have questions from the audience after Rosanna's talk, so please submit your questions throughout the conversation using the Slido, which is the online Q&A platform. If you're at home, you can submit your questions below the video on the gallery's website. In the theatre, please ensure, actually, this has got a very nice script here, but really, what it is, turn your phones on mute now. Do not shame yourself in the theatre. We all have done it from time to time, but you know it's best to be better. So now I get, really, the huge fortune and honour of introducing Rosanna Raymond. And I thought today, I would introduce Rosanna not the way we would see it on her biography, but I thought I would use a white fella word. And in fact, speaking of white fella words, as we journey through reconciliation, I just thought I wanted to point out, as Paul was doing his Welcome to Country, one of the reasons Aboriginal people have got such good sense of humours is it pops up, as Paul's talking in Ngunnawal, Wiradjuri, Ngambri language, ‘foreign language spoken’. And I thought that was hilarious considering that we're actually on Country in his language. We're not taking questions from the audience just yet. Thank you so much. So, I just thought I wanted to use another white fella word to introduce this person. The words that come to my mind are resplendent and incomparable. You'll meet Rosanna today through her own conversation and her own discussion and presentation, so I don't wanna go into the formalities. So, I wanna introduce her to you by addressing what I know of her from my short time of meeting her. And I wanted to speak about a fearless future, and I wanted to speak about the ingredients required for what fearless future and what First Nations and black leadership encompasses, a fierce reflector, an ability to experience. Rosanna is a fierce observer. This resides in a capacity to really sit still and quiet and obtain not just through ears and eyes, but all of the senses. I wanted to speak, oh, look, I've cut and pasted myself twice on my notes. That's very clever of me. But I really wanted to think about the fierceness of what it takes for black leadership in this day and age. And I want to speak also to the invitation to share a union of curiosity, embracing the power of collectivity. And I want to thank you, Rosanna, for your fierce black leadership. And I know that I wouldn't be alone in saying this, and anyone tuning in from the Moana knows how many young people, or young bloods as Rosanna would call them, how many are growing up under and with her in her wings. Before I hand her over, I just wanted to have a quick show of hands, if you're feeling confident, in the room. Can you raise your hand if you identify as a body from the Moana region? Anyone from the Pacific here? A few of you, excellent. And anyone First Nations Australian in the audience? A couple of us. Go us. Oh, it's the boss fella. G'day, Bruce. And I guess I also wanted, anyone else raise your hand if you think you're just simply fabulous and fantastic. I'm appalled at the lack of hands in the room. I'm not sure it's meant to be. I'm gonna hand it over now, and please join me in welcoming Rosanna Raymond to the stage.

- I cry the ocean. I bleed the earth. I greet you with my dead. May my waters greet your waters. May my mountains greet your mountains. May my house greet your house. And may my people greet your people. May we take some time to acknowledge those who have passed for we are the past, we are the present, we are the future. [speaks in another language] Thank you for the shelter. Here I acknowledge Ngāti Whātua, who keep the fires warm, tending to the mana of the whenua, of the land where I take shelter in Tāmaki Makaurau. [speaks in another language]. Thank you for your generosity. Here I acknowledge the house and those who have hosted me to share some words with you. Most importantly, I acknowledge the Tangata whenua of Te Whenua Moemoeā, the customary landowners. I acknowledge the elders past, present, and future. And thank you so much, Paul and Auntie for allowing us to share some of my words with you all.’We Need to Talk About Gauguin’ this presentation's title was actually inherited from the NGA with no question mark. And while it had a sense of urgency, my first reaction was to ask myself, do we really need to talk about Gauguin? There are a plethora of books, academic articles, counter narratives, podcasts, YouTube, cinemas, t-shirts, fridge magnets, posters, postcards, tea towels, iPhone covers. You can even go on a cruise ship called Gauguin. After some contemplation to whether I wanted to talk about him, I asked them to add a question mark on the title, for my natural inclination is not to talk about him, or in fact, even think about him. And while I'm almost interested in him, did I really need to invite him into my most valued asset, my time and my head space? So while I felt privileged to have been asked to create an installation here, in the same place as Gauguin, now it seemed I had, somehow had to talk about him. The question mark gave me a sense of appeasement, enabling me to create a space to speak outside of Gauguin's world and into mine. So during this presentation, I will be not talking about his life, his complex character, his travels, his writing, his paintings, his carvings, his ceramics, his love of Japanese woodcuts, his collection of Dusky Maiden postcards, his love, or is it lust, for Dusky Maidens, his use of colour, his legacy in the Western art cannon, his fraught relationship with van Gogh, with his peers, his wives, his lovers, his children, his morality, his communicable diseases, his lofty opinion of himself, his self-proclaimed savagery. So, okay, I might talk a little bit about that. So this begs the question, who needs to talk about Gauguin? There are many that are willing and able and a lot more sort of interested than me, and some of them will be presenting in this very space. A symposium will be held to coincide with the opening of ‘Gauguin's World’so you'll get a whole day of institutionally sanctioned people talking about Gauguin. So there you go. You come back in June, all right? I would, however, like to introduce the words of an artist who does have something to say about Gauguin, her work will be exhibited as part of a very special project I'm developing here at the NGA. And I'd like to, Victoria, if you could introduce Francoise for us, and we're gonna spend five minutes sitting with somebody who has something to say about Gauguin.

- Hi, everyone. My name is Françoise. I'm making this little video from Dharawal country. And it's important for me that I acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of this Land and pay my respects to the elders past, present, and future. Thanks, Rosanna, for inviting me here to speak today. And above all, thank you for inviting me to participate as an artist with SaVAge K'lub later this year. I'm thrilled to be working with you. I can't wait to meet you in person. So I have a Tahitian mother. She was born there. My sister was born in Tahiti. My father was born in Tetiꞌaroa, but he has British heritage. I was born in Lae, Papua New Guinea, but I spent the bulk of my childhood growing up in a very white suburb in Brisbane. Thankfully though, we did, we were blessed with many trips home to Tahiti to visit family. And also, our family loved to come visit us in Brissie and spend six weeks at a time during their winter holidays. Lots of aunties, uncles and cousins. Sometimes 15 would rock up at our door. So we made room. It was very cosy indeed. As for Gauguin, meeting him is not a thing in a Tahitian family because he's just always there. He's so pervasive. He's everywhere. So that's that, but I do address him with my work, and I'll explain that shortly. But first of all, I want to introduce you to these words, taura tupuna, which mean ancestral cord or ancestral rope or braid. And what that symbolises is our ancestors sharing and nurturing of our culture, our history and our language, and weaving all that knowledge and mana into this taura tupuna that is passed on from generation to generation. And it's with me today, so I'm experiencing this mana. It's a part of me, and I have an obligation to nurture it, look after it, add to it in positive ways, and share it and pass it on to my children and their children cause I will be an ancestor one day. So this is what is important for you to understand because it is a driving motivation in the making of my work, because while we have this taura tupuna, unfortunately, with imperialism and colonialism, they intervened, and they scarred our history. They have tried to erase our culture, our language, everything that is meaningful to us as a people and to our identity. And during this period too, this is when the dusky maiden trope was manifested. So my work speaks specifically to this dusky maiden trope, which is usually reductive. The title of my work is called, "Fuck You, I'm Not Your Dusky Maiden". It's deliberately blasphemous. It's another form of trying, attempting to subvert the dusky maiden trope, which is a sexual object. She's exotic, erotic, supposedly submissive, naive and innocent, so, I mean, I'm attempting to disrupt that. The work is speaking to Gauguin because there's no other writer or artist who's been more successful at embellishing and disseminating and perpetuating this myth well beyond his death. It's still occurring. But I am speaking to all white men who profit from our bodies, whether it's personal, political. It's a form of aggression, in my opinion. So how am I subverting it? Well, with my work, I am reclaiming my body. I'm photographing my own image. I'm a Tahitian woman. So there's this reclamation in the ownership and representation that I am making and taking of myself for all Polynesian and Tahitian women. It's about, hopefully, empowering us and liberating us from this oppressive trope. So while I can't remove Gauguin from our history and biography, I'm attempting to heal it and set our trajectory in a positive way for Polynesian identity. I'm attempting to add some positive manner to our taura tupuna to nurture our daughters, and our future daughters, and all the next generation. So that's what my work's about. But I do wanna leave you with one thought, which is Paul Gauguin did not paint Tahiti or our people. He painted over us. He indulged in his own desires and fantasies. All right, thanks so much for having me. I'm really excited to meet you maybe in June. And enjoy the rest of the session. Thank you, Rosanna. Thanks so much. Bye.

- Whoo. Now, Françoise is very, very shy, so that was actually, I had to really coax her into doing that. But I think from the words that she's spoken, you can understand why I wanted her own words and not just for me to talk about her work. But I can come and enjoy her work in June. So, what have we got? I think I've got another one. The Western art world has worked hard at deepening the mythology and value of Gauguin's life and artworks. Now, for me, this is not Gauguin's fault. I look directly to the Western art historians and the omnipresent Caucasian male gaze. It is they who have groomed us, allowing the consumption of his artworks without having to deal with the lived realities of his subjects who have experienced the violence of colonialism, the loss of land, language, and cultural practises. The French dream of cannibals, the untainted kind, those aligned with the gods, children of nature, innocent in their wanting, displaying unsuckled breasts still firm with youth, half clothed yet with the posture of the high born, decorated in flora and fauna. The English like them with a knife and fork, well-mannered, resplendent with dignity, well-made with all fancy and finery, a keen mind for business, fluent and gentle manliness, and usually escorted home decorated with arms and armoury. The Americans, oh, they like them with a deep harbour looking like movie stars, handsome and full of savage beauty, adorned Apocalypto styling, running for their lives with a crack of a whip and some special effects, and all singing, all dancing Yankee doodle dandy, decorated in stars and stripes. Me, I like mine on the dance floor, drums and bass with a hint of old school reggae, some old soul, and a bit of boogie down productions, tusks on show, fully grown, kept sharp by all those years of rooting around the forest floor, a warrior standing tall, not a soldier boy fighting somebody else's war. Eat me. Maybe you'll need it for survival. Use my blood to taint the dawn. Ingest me in the name of science. Let my flesh melt inside you. Excrete me. The very pores of your skin will smell of me. We can consume the night decorated in flora and fauna, arms and armoury, stars and stripes. Oh, yes, we cannibals are thriving. I'd just like to acknowledge, actually, some of these images to which I did not put captions on, but this was in the great halls of the Met, Metropolitan. And this is an artwork created by Dan Taulapapa McMullin called "Aue Away". And he adorned us in these beautiful flora and decorated us in flora and fauna, and we went and hung out at the Met. So thanks, Dan! Okay, so what am I gonna talk about if I'm not gonna talk about Gauguin? Well, to position myself, I'm unapologetically Moana-centric. And you're gonna hear me use this word, Moana. I'm not gonna use the colonised word of the Pacific. We're gonna use Moana. I have a lived experience in Aotearoa, New Zealand, the UK, and Australia. I am an introduced species, descended from a multi-stranded genealogical legacy brought about by the waves of migration to Aotearoa, New Zealand from Europe and the Moana. So my strands come from France, from Ireland, from Samoa, from Tuvalu, and they all went, gone in the mix, and here I am. I have been a vocal and active member of an artistic urban nation village who have nourished one another as we have forged new waves of being. Now, this position is once my strength and my weakness. I have an insider-outsider perspective within the artistic cultural movement. This is a reality that continually criticises but shapes who I am. And reflecting upon my three-decade journey into the arts, and more recently, scholarship, I reached deep into my manava, to my stomach, and breathed deep. Although my art and academic practises have come around, to me, it's been quite a painful little journey, but they are now permeated into the core of my body. As a result, my body has become, has come to serve as my primary material through which I activate the mauli, this cosmological energy of my artistic creations. My artistic journey started with the arts collective Pacific Sisters. Founded in the 1992 by Suzanne Tamaki, Nephi Tupaea, and Selina Forsythe, Pacific Sisters is one of the longest running Tagata Moana art collectives in Aotearoa. The Pacific Sisters incorporate Moana heritage and art practises with contemporary art forms, embracing our urban Maori, Moana, and queer identities. We were trying to find a voice within a society that did not want to recognise us, or possibly didn't know how to. We manifested what we wanted to see as we were not reflected in any cultural landscape in Aotearoa at the time. So we emerged from the fringes, and we are now recognised locally and internationally for our multidisciplinary practises in fashion activism. Working with the Pacific Sisters, I developed an embodied practise. I learned how to use my hands as a maker, fusing traditional techniques, oral histories, and genealogies. We were not interested in replicating the past, but creating a space where we could add to the dynamic legacy of our cultural heritage. The Pacific Sisters allowed me to manifest a space where my ancient self and my modern self could embrace and engage with each other. So this is a slide from a new exhibition. We are currently participating in the Sydney Biennale, at the Ten Thousand Suns. So that's up until July. If you're in Sydney, pop by and go find yourself some Pacific Sisters. In 1999, I moved to the UK. The we of the Pacific Sisters became an I, became Sistar S'pacific, learning how to work as an individual. During this period, I encountered the concept of va through the scholarship of Albert Refiti, Okusitino Mahina, and Tavita Ka'ili, these are my Jedis, which subsequently have become fundamental cornerstone of my artistic practise. Va, a Samoan term for space. It is not linear, or indeed, an empty one. The va is an active space. It binds people and things together. It forms relationship and necessitates reciprocal obligation. The notion of va is changing as it spreads throughout our transnational communities. This new geographical va gets new narratives and experiences, creating new Moana thought and ways of being. There's an amazing project that's been happening called the Va Moana project, and it's taken like 10 years of Pacific ways of being and doing. And so there's a place for you to go find more about the va. I feel the va needs a body, a tangible presence, a performative body that attracts, sustains, and maintains these relationships, a vessel for the genealogical and the geographical to come together, allowing the past to have a presence in the now, a non-gendered body, a space where all the ancestors are held, both male and female, atua and aitu. Consequently, I am a cultivator, fabricator, and activator of people, spaces, and things. My va body has become a site of resistance, helping me to re-render and re-privilege my Moana body. My practise activates spaces, collects time, using all this beautiful genealogical matters as content. My body, its own inherent language, and the language of the measina, these cultural treasures that I adorn it with, converge to form a powerful space in which my art practise and cultural heritage can come together. The Pacific body has been constructed by the Western imagination since first contact, the Pacific Islands a paradise and habited by the free and easy dusky maiden and the one-with-nature noble savage. This was superseded when the missionaries who were sent in droves, bringing with them the brimstone and fire that was needed to save our savage souls from the everlasting life in hell. It was our bodies and what they performed culturally and aesthetically that they sought to eradicate, and indeed, what Gauguin wanted to paint. Now, I still have a soft spot for the dusky, all right? She's much maligned. But I think I'm gonna share with you now a poem that I wrote a long time ago. It was about 2006, but it's called

One a Day- a 7 Maiden Rave On

or …The Dusky ain’t Dead she Just Diversified

Full Tusk Maiden….

ex cannibal, still got a few head hunting tendencies and sometimes can’t tell a predator from the prey…oh well they all taste the same. Long of the tooth but still fertile, a red clay lady, been around since the first dawn, introduced Papatuanuku and Nafanua to the Virgin Mary and they have been friends ever since, certainly makes for great ladi nights out. Once had a shark king for a husband but swapped him for a warrior god in the shape of an octopus because he gave better cunnilingus.

Rave on Maiden

that girl can talk, you can’t help but listen, her voice is soft and dry like breeze playing with the autumn leaves, she’s got skin like the bark of the tree, so often hides in the forest, don’t worry if you can’t see her as she smells of a 1000 gardenias. Good to have around on long black nights as she is full of myth and magic and has her own sickle moon for you to make a wish on. Loves wearing dog skin, banana flowers and no undies on formal occasions, so don’t make her sit cross legged or try to hide her in the rafters

Hand to Mouth Maiden

a sweet soul ladi, with paua shell eyes, you can see her back arching across the sky at night, it’s swathed in a cloak knitted from glitter, works so hard but always poor…keeps her slim though. Will never reveal your secrets, they are safe with her. There not much to eat up there, so she feasts on rainbows and the odd spaceman when visiting her best friend, Sina, who lives on the moon, you can see them sometimes spitting out the bones. No need for a spacewaka she can fly, but rarely comes to see me, as earthly pleasures are not to her liking.

Hand in Hand Maidens

always ready for some girl on girl action, once they were stuck back to back but were torn apart when they were out playing with some thunder and lightening. Sometimes weighed down by life but loads of sex, good shoes and great friends keeps them happy enough, they ain’t going to fade to black, because they can chase the clouds away. Has been known to scare the boys so only men need apply to take a peak at their tattooed thighs and hairless vaginas and don’t forget to hang on if you go for a ride.

Back Hand Maiden…

a ceremonial virgin, with centipede edges, never one for complements, she’s a true savage, quick to bare her buttocks at the slightest offence, has no qualms about slapping your lips and telling you to eat shit, whilst trussing you up like pig ready for the spit…but has the most fantastic manners and a loving face with much warmth in her eyes. She had a big black eel for a lover but had him chased away, least they were discovered, as it would be her own facial blood not that of her hymen she would be covered in.

Fully Laiden Maiden…

got big bones and big hair, when she breathes her breasts rise and fall like the swell of the shallow sea, loves wearing mother of pearl and pounamu all at the same time, so she chimes when she walks, always busy so can seem a bit distracted, nevertheless, a no fuss, no bother, can do, sort of a girl. Pretty in a strange sort of a way, you can’t help stare at her eyes, they are vast and can light up the night sky, you see she has no pupils, they are vessels containing old gods…just don’t trip over and fall in them…you won’t come back alive.

Tu Mucho Maiden…

has the meanest huruhuru froufrou you ever did see, thick and dark they look great all oiled up and sprinkled with turmeric, matches her black lips and sunshine smile, loves the feel of leather and feathers and don’t pick a fight with her as she knows what to do with a big stick. You should see her on the dance floor, she’s got butterfly thighs, you’ll want to take her home and introduce her to your mother. Be aware, she needs the salt water to cleanse in, so she can’t live far from the sea and make sure she has a soft mat to recline on when indoors, she’ll treat you to a song and make you cry.

Yeah, I still got room for the old dusky maiden in my life. So in 2010, while participating in a residency at the Museum of Anthropology in Vancouver, I established the SaVAge K'lub. The name draws inspiration from a historical gentleman's club that originated in the 19th century London and subsequently formed a brotherhood all over the commonwealth. Melbourne's is still going. Like Gauguin, I don't really care to waste too much of my breath on what and who the Savage Club was and is. So for any of you who are interested, Auntie Google can help you there. Just Google Savage Club. And there's also a great article on the 10th year anniversary of the SaVAge K'lub. So, we did a little something. So what is the SaVAge K'lub? Well, we present 21st century South Sea savagery, influencing art and culture through the interfacing of time and space, deploying weavers of word, rare anecdotalists, smith makers, hip shakers, fabricators to institute the non-cannibalistic cognitive consumption of the other. Okay, you got it? The SaVAge K'lub has emerged as a collective dedicated to celebrating diverse art forms and cultures, engaging in collaborative efforts to activate individuals and objects alike. Evolving into a multidisciplinary platform, it now serves as a vehicle to explore notions of hospitality, sovereignty, and to celebrate all forms of art and culture. It is a space where the relationships that are formed during the process of the art-making are honoured and recognised as the primary artwork. The capitalization of the VA in the middle of the word privileges the notion of va. So it's sah-vahge, darling. It's not savage, okay? And I've recentered this, so to make sure that the founding principle of our creative practises and protocols are at the centre of our collective practise. So somehow, I've missed out a slide, but anyway, we have members all over the globe. And this is what I call a role call, and I haven't spelled it wrong, okay? I'm being a funny guy, like your role, you know, the role you take on. Okay, got it? Yeah, thank you. So we have members all over the globe, in London, Sydney, New York, Rarotonga, Raiatea, Suva. Our base is in Tamaki Makaurau, in Auckland. And we have a brand new chapter in Poneke, in Wellington. We have scholars, artists, friends, families, painters, dancers, prancers. There's a lot. Our oldest member is 75, and our newest member is still in situ. Aha, sorry. So this is actually, we did do a role call of all the people that have passed through the SaVAge K'lub, and so far, to date, it's 232. So as you know, I've been talking about relationships. So I still hold true that the relationships and sustaining and maintaining these relationships with all these beautiful beings that have come through us must be maintained. So I think I've got another... Uh-huh. There's gonna be a new iteration of the SaVAge K'lub, people, coming to a space near you. ‘Te Paepae O Aora'i: Where The Gods Cannot Be Fooled’ will be a significant installation that weaves together historical collections from the National Gallery of Australia with works from the SaVAge K'lub collective. It will be present at the same time as "Gauguin's World". This new rendition of the SaVAge K'lub highlights the artistic practises and lived experiences of Tagata Moana artists and cultural practitioners, placing them at the centre of the National Gallery here in Canberra. Thank you, Nick. The installation layout is conceptually based on the paepae, a concept found all over the Moana in various forms and functions. The paepae usually sits outside the main marae. It is a place to spread your valuables out, a threshold which things pass back and forth. In Aotearoa, it is a place where speeches are delivered, a place where your histories are remembered and constantly retold. Aora'i, a Tahitian word, the palaces of the atua, the gods, where the atua reside. In Aotearoa, we say Aorangi, and in the South Island, Aoraki, and Samoa, Aolangi. So this is a concept that we all share, this world of the sky. In this context, ‘Te Paepae O Aora'’' will be where we present cultural treasures, both static and living, artistic and ceremonial, a place to create new memories, constructing our past, present, and future, a place where the gods will not be fooled. So I'm gonna wrap up before we answer some questions. Like Gauguin, I have mixed bloodlines, am a self-proclaimed savage, and also have a penchant for dusky maidens. And I've travelled extensively, living away from the genealogical and geographical homelands for long periods of time. Now, I feel this gives us both a slight twist to our worldview, allowing us to transcend or extend the norms of those who remained. But while he is lauded, the creative developments of myself and many other Moana artists and cultural practitioners are largely overlooked by the mainstream art world as they are mediated through the dominant Western historical frameworks. Anglo-Western notions of what art is divide visual, decorative, and performance art, but in many Moana and indigenous artists, they combine the visual, the performative, and ceremonial aspects in their work. Engaging with the Western contemporary arts world has been both detrimental and advantageous to many Indigenous practitioners. It has allowed us to add to the narratives of our heritage-based practises, but it has also kept us firmly on the outside of the predominant Anglo-Western definition of what art is and what it can be. A lack of nuanced understanding about Indigenous artists and our experiences has affected how our work was and is consumed, written about, and displayed. Body adornment becomes jewellery, regalia, fashion. Artworks are attributed as craft, ritual as performance of culture. Expanding stereotypes becomes ironic. Authenticity is questioned, or often, it's all just seen as identity art. For example, body adornments from the Moana are inherently imbued with the potent genealogies, mythologies, rituals, and oral histories, and thus, their retelling via art practises is how we make sense of our past in the present. The mytho-poetic narratives they carry, I believe, converge, and are channelled through the va body and through the hands of the artists and cultural practitioners of the SaVAge K'lub. Like a mat woven, va bodies weave together geographical and genealogical strands, part body part, part art, expanding the concept of the va by creating temporal and spatial connections to retell, reclaim our stories, our bodies, re-privileging the indigenous selves through the arts. Thank you.

A round of applause. Round of applause, really, so I could just skip myself together. I don't know how many of you have had a haka come at you before, but they're intense, and they're great. Rosanna, thank you for that. And I'm aware that we've got, we're probably right on time as well, so, which is perfect. I guess one of the things that can often happen in this kind of situation is you do your talk and then you sit down and you go, "Oh, wish I'd said that." Is there anything final in terms of, I guess, I mean, I would love to dally a question about the Western cannon in here, but I'm also aware that we are at big time, and that's gonna unpack a very massive can of-

- Cannon of worms.

- A cannon of worms. That's right. So can I just look to somebody who's on my NGA team? How are we going for time? Is it one question, or are we just in a wrap? We're cool? Just relax? Five minutes. Otherwise, you're just waving, and that's nice too. We're a polite and kind people here at the National Gallery of Australia. You should know. So Rosanna, I guess, we've talked, and we've talked with Tahi about this, but I do wanna talk about the colour because I do wanna link back into the idea of Gauguin's work. And I loved the image of the fauna and flora standing in front of that work because I suppose a lot of the people in this audience are actually gonna attend both the exhibition of "Gauguin: Tona Iho, Tona Ao". You can practise, like I have been. You can find, actually, the lovely Tahi is going to be doing some promotional video stuff, so you can get your own practise in and hear about what that language actually means. Ah, yes, we'd love to do that. We've just got some messages here. We can play the second video. So let's turn our attention to that.

- I am Nephi Tupaea. I'm a longstanding member of the Pacific Sisters, and I'm also a creative, and I'm also a solo, oh, what would you call myself? A painter. As you can see, these are my works behind me. I'm also a carer of my mother full time. So, which is I, which is, in our culture, is one of the most important, high prestige things that you can do is to look after your parents. I live in Hawke's Bay, Ngāti Kahungunu, and I'm about to give you my story about how I met Gauguin. So it all started in high school when the education curriculum, especially with the arts forums, they only introduced non-Maori artists. And I grew up with Cezanne, Picasso, and especially Gauguin, but Gauguin was the one, was one of the artists that really, how would you say it? Pulled me in because he focused on Polynesia. So it's really funny because, so he infiltrated, these artists infiltrated, we never got to learn about our own culture. They saw carvers and kowhaiwhai paintings weren't really art back then. It wasn't seen as art. It was just seen as cultural differences. So I was now, moving forward with the timeline. So it's funny 'cause I work in timelines with Gauguin. I've had these amazing conversations with him, asking permission for him to come into my space and for me to go into his space. So I've revisited Gauguin now as an adult, and we both kinda see eye to eye together, but having these incredible conversations about respecting each other's spaces. And I do love Gauguin's work. I respect him as an awesome artist. But I do also feel that I'm decolonizing his works of art by reclaiming and changing my narratives with my stories of Gauguin. This painting here, which is going to Canberra, ‘The Sorcerer of Hiva Oa; or ‘The Marquesan Man in a Red Cape’. But my, I've titled this painting ‘What's in the Closet’. So it talks about myself, my experiences growing up as takātapui, my experiences of being not only being takatāpui, but being fourth generation Mormon and being, trying to deal and trying to assess, figure out what it means to be not only Mormon, but takatāpui back in the days, in the early '70s, '80s and '90s, because it was really different back then to where, how it is now. So, the support system wasn't so great. So here we have the three figures here, which is, signifies of the religious terminology, the father, the son, and the holy ghost. Here also, which is my figure, which is myself, who I see, which I just, learning how to accept my sexuality as I'm growing up, not really having the tools and the knowledge to overcome these fears of being takatapui when I was younger, but it's just my exploration of playing with my mother's clothes. And also, ‘What's In The Closet’, it's really talking about the fears growing up in those days, of the shame, especially when you're Mormon. We had a lot of shame, we had a lot of guilt tripping that was given to us by our brethren. I did get excommunicated when I was 27, and that was the year 1997, where my only crime was to be in a relationship and be takatāpui. I use a lot of kowhaiwhai patterning, which is the mangopare, which is a kowhaiwhai pattern that is a design that's from Kahungunu. So it talks about the hammerhead shark, which is, for me, I use a lot of the hammerhead, this pattern right through my whole works because to me, it symbolises strength, courage, but it symbolises the strength from within, yes. That's me in a nutshell. So I really want you to come to this exhibition to come see this amazing works and the works of the SaVAge K'lub also. It's gonna be awesome, and you're gonna love it. And peace.

- Well, that's a perfect way to honour your time with us and your kind of philosophy too, Rosanna, because that is all we have time for today. To finish off with an artist, I think, is testament to the person you are and what you advocate for. You can come back and see the SaVAge K'lub on June 29 to 7 October, which is the same duration of the Gauguin exhibition. And I hope you do because if you want to be activated by a group of the most fabulous savages, you will book your tickets for the opening weekend activation and get amongst it. So thank you for your time today, and we hope you have a beautiful afternoon. Thank you so much, Rosanna. Round of applause.