This introduction, by Michael Eather and Marlene Hall, is drawn from the catalogue accompanying Queensland Art Gallery's exhibition, 'Balance 1990: Views, Visions, Influences'.¹ This landmark exhibition, held in 1990, included works by Indigneous and non-Indigenous Australian artists 'using both traditional and contemporary images and a variety of media, cross[ed] previously accepted boundaries and merge culturally'.²

'Balance 1990' is about the breaking down of barriers — the barriers of ignorance and of a romantic belief that traditions are fixed and unchanging. It is about artists and art traditions learning from each other. It is not about copying each other or apologising for being the wrong colour! It aims to show that all Australian artists — whether Aborigines and Islanders living in traditional ways, Aborigines and Islanders living in rural communities, or white artists living anywhere — can learn through sharing resources and opinion. To do this, artists need to communicate with each other across artificial barriers — their art can help to achieve this.

The core of Aboriginal culture is considered sacred and out of reach for most people. By contrast, Western culture is constantly under dispute and change. To gain full access to either can be equally difficult. This ongoing dilemma is part of the evolution of artists working within these polarities.

Shared influences have long been in existence in this continent. Australia has a tradition of adapting and improvising. Australian Aboriginal and Islander people themselves developed strong trade routes of which some continue to be used today. As with any cultural exchange, some influences are subtle while others are sudden. In recent years, many artists have welcomed and embraced a wide range of outside influences and incorporated them into their own art. 

These influences can be of a direct physical nature, incorporating a shared knowledge of art materials and methods. Artists formerly working on rock, bark, sand and body may now choose board, canvas, masonite, paper or tin. Similarly, the readily identifiable dot technique of the Western Desert Papunya Tula artists has been adopted by many contemporary artists. However, the most significant and contentious evidence of a shared influence is found in the areas of content and imagery. 

A popular attitude in Western art is that anything and everything is fair game for creative use in making art — the emphasis being on the excitement of creating something new and different. Aboriginal art based on tradition has a sacred quality and constancy, using particular symbols, materials and ceremonies to document survival stories. The artist is responsible for looking after these stories and ensuring their continuance. 

How these approaches can exist together is evident in this exhibition, but does the art emanating from this co-existence require new systems of understanding to decode it?

In becoming more politically and artistically aware of the evolving nature of Australian Aboriginal and Islander art, many commentators have rightly pointed out the dangers of a Western perception assuming this culture to be static and permanently bound in a glass-case tradition. All artists, for whatever the reasons, are subject to degrees of outside influence. Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal artists do have meeting points. These points have been arrived at through both the active and the passive acknowledgment of sharing.

For many contemporary artists, shared influences are of an individual and often personal nature. These range from a deep commitment to using Aboriginal art in support of Aboriginal culture, and the desire to encompass the tension of identity, to the assumption that they can use the culture in any manner or form simply because it is there. There is a diversity in attitude towards an idea of sharing. Many welcome it with open arms, others fight against it.

Uncertainty towards the validity of artists demonstrating 'shared' influences is felt by many. Acknowledging junction points in our existence can be associated with fears of violation and severence. Others simply deplore any blendings whatsoever, but should artists be denied these opportunities? Imants Tillers, a non-Aboriginal artist, refers to his practice as being 'not so much a question of influence but of the circulation and availability of images (in the printed media)'. Meanwhile, Laurie Nilsen, a Brisbane Aboriginal artist, seizes his own opportunity:

With our Aboriginal heritage, I feel myself and other contemporary Aboriginal artists are in the unique position to be able to operate within both Western culture and our own traditional culture. I feel privileged to have the options and the freedom to combine two entirely different cultures, or lean towards Western influences if I so wish;. . . by relying on two cultures I have a greater range of ideas and materials . . . I'll so desire I can combine both cultural themes and any combination of traditional or modern materials.

The boundaries for artists working within shared influence contexts as yet are not fully understood. A major difficulty arises in the area of copyright and moral rights. When does influence become theft?

Ownership does exist within Aboriginal art and law. Copyright laws revolve around the use and misuse of property. For Aboriginal and Islander people, copyright relates to the creation of the artist, his or her people and the land. Taking this property out of context or using it without permission devalues the image both spiritually and economically. This issue is now being acknowledged by a growing number of non-Aboriginal artists and the wider public, but as yet these artists cannot conceive fully the constraints on image making within such rigid and fixed parameters. For many, artistic licence has no limits.

In 1989 a Federal Court case upheld the argument of the artist John Bulunbulun of Arnhem Land, that he held the copyright for his painting and that it could not be reproduced on a T-shirt without his permission. The artist was awarded $135 000 damages.

Controversies inevitably appear when works are exhibited within a locus of shared influence. In 'Balance 1990' Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal works are intentionally placed together to broaden the viewpoint of each group. 'Balance 1990' becomes the catalyst for the two-way filtering of information that encourages a wider reception of these works.

Throughout the 1980s both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal artists have had much cause to re-think their ways of working. The 1980s revealed a huge escalation of political and social awareness and acknowledgment of Aboriginal culture. A period of incubation in the 1970s was followed by events which marked this next decade as a crucial turning point in appreciating the visual impact of cultural sharing. This was synchronised with the political, emotional and spiritual impact of a national identity crisis.

The 1981 International Papunya Tula Exhibition gave worldwide recognition to the Aboriginal presence in Australian art. The existence of urban Aboriginal artists was legitimised in the art community through exhibitions such as 'Koori Art '84' in 1984, 'When Two Worlds Collide' in 1985, 'Urban Kooris' in 1986 and 'Aboriginal Australian Views in Print and Poster' in 1987–88. Regional views became national statements with 'Right Here Right Now: Australia 1988' touring Australia in 1988 and 'A Koori Perspective' in 1989.

The National Aboriginal Art Awards established in 198L4 by the Museums and Art Galleries of the Northern Territory gave credibility to the shifting attitudes within contemporary Aboriginal art. This was reinforced through exhibitions such as 'Recent Aboriginal Painting', Art Gallery of South Australia, 1988; 'On the Edge', Art Gallery of Western Australia, 1989; and 'Aboriginal Art: The Continuing Tradition', Australian National Gallery, 1989 (which included over 500 works from the Aboriginal collection).

A major conceptual statement for Aboriginal people in the 1988 Australian Biennale at the Art Gallery of New South Wales was the inclusion of The Aboriginal Memorial, comprising 200 hollow log bone coffins from the Top End of the Northern Territory. The progress made in the 1980s culminated in the selection of two Aboriginal artists to represent Australia at the 1990 Venice Biennale.

By far the most important catalyst for the surge of cultural awareness and global awareness was the Australian Bicentenary in 1988. The build up of momentum created by this event through the mass media focused particular attention on the issue of Australian Aboriginal identity. As a boost to the recognition of an Australian national identity, Aboriginal art, exotic as it seemed, was used by the culture industry as a 'flag waver'. Was Aboriginal art and culture the only thing Australia had to offer as truly unique?

T-shirts featuring Aboriginal art were worn by many as an instant badge of support for Aboriginal art and culture. Was this simply because the shirts looked good, or were people genuine in their support? Many Australians who had considered the Bicentenary as a birthday were forced to reconsider! Artists seized this opportunity to rally together in an effort to force cultural re-assessment. In many ways, the Bicentenary gave impetus for this exhibition.

The 1980s has left a band wagon stigma, a 'flavour of the decade' for many artists to contend with. Does an artist's birthright legitimise his or her use of and access to cultural imagery?

Unlike their tribal counterparts, many urban Aboriginal artists are not able to claim custody of cultural property. In Queensland, for example, Aboriginal people were trucked off ancestral lands, families being separated and put on to artificially created reserves such as Cherbourg, Woorabinda, Palm Island and Yarrabah. In these places they had no cultural links or continuity for their art.

The amalgamation of styles being produced by urbanised Aboriginal artists in both city and country areas is a direct result of this displacement. Their art is the combination of a yearning for understanding and the search through a jigsaw of influences to piece back an identity. Contemporary Aboriginal art contains new survival stories and sacred images. Whilst maintaining personal content, a new visual language has evolved — partly 'shining' with recognisable Aboriginal styles such as x-ray and dot techniques, partly 'shining' with sheer invention. Yet as a further result of this displacement, many tribal and non-Aboriginal people often do not acknowledge the authenticity of some contemporary aspects of urban Aboriginal culture. From a shared perspective, some works in this exhibition may appear difficult to comprehend, or seem aesthetically unpleasing, yet we must acknowledge that these works have relevance for particular communities.

In an attempt to gain access to Aboriginal art and culture, non-Aboriginal artists have only just begun to scratch the surface. One wonders how close they can get to what lies beneath.

For a great number of contemporary artists, economic viability is a strong motivator, as illustrated in Donny Smith's comment: 'I'll paint on anything that the paint doesn't fall off from!'. The spiritual component of the process is in the doing, becoming an educational tool and a source for cultural maintenance and identity. In addition, the completed artwork converts to a currency for economic survival.

For a number of Aboriginal artists, it is the art advisers who determine the direction and distribution of their work. The fact that most advisers working in the 1980s are White Australians is a significant factor. In many cases shared influence has been the result of art advisers' decisions in the determination of overall choices of colours, media and sizes, and pushes made in various market arenas.

In surveying works from the 1980s with the concept of 'Balance' in mind, it was found that influences merged to such an extent that it became a question of 'whodunnit?'. Aboriginal or non-Aboriginal? It is this middle ground which constitutes half the exhibition.

The amalgamation of 'Balance 1990' works, however, should not be seen as an argument for assimilation of any kind. It argues instead for artists to retain the right to demonstrate their individual areas of concern in a professional context that neither condemns nor condones the extremities of opinion. Beyond the surface of the works in this exhibition, artists continue to compare thoughts on this terrain. In terms of survival, what is desperately needed is a foundation for education, furthering information on this significant subject. Far from compromising the position of 'Balance 1990', the works are left to present this challenge and to illustrate the issues.

Michael Eather and Marlene Hall, 'Balance 1990' Project Co-ordinators, 1990

Endnotes

1. Michael Eather and Marlene Hall, 'Introduction', in Balance 1990: Views, visions, influences [exhibition catalogue, Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane, 1990, pp.8–12.
2. Doug Hall, 'Foreword', in Balance 1990: Views, visions, influences [exhibition catalogue, Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane, 1990, p.6.