CACSA Monograph | James Tylor: Territorial Encounters by ACE Open

Territorial Encounters jAmes tylor / territorial encounters

james tylor

CONTEMPORARY ART CENTRE OF SOUTH AUSTRALIA

james tylor

Territorial Encounters 23 July â&#x20AC;&#x201C; 28 August 2016 Contemporary Art Centre of South Australia

Seeing country

Whether or not he did so intentionally, James Tylor has just created his first piece of performance art. Revealing itself through daguerreotypes, found objects and a sound work, Territorial Encounters is, at its core, a performative reimagining, reconstruction and reinterpretation of the colonisation of South Australia. Specifically, Kangaroo Island and the adjacent 72 kilometre stretch of coastline, between what is now commonly known as Cape Jervis and Encounter Bay. It was here that Matthew Flinders, widely acknowledged as the first European to circumnavigate Australia, closed in on his map of the Australian continent. It was also on April 8 in 1802, where he crossed paths with Nicolas Baudin – a French naturalist and cartographer who had been appointed by his government to undertake the same expedition. The two men met, exchanged their findings, and parted ways. Narrowly pre-empting Baudin, Flinders officially lay claim to the land, which he named Encounter Bay in honour of this historic meeting. A symbolic site in relation to the colonisation of Australia, this stretch of country had also, for tens of thousands of years, been a significant cultural place for the Kaurna, Ngarrindjeri and Ramindjeri people.

COVER IMAGE Hidden in the shadows 2016 (detail) scratched daguerreotype, 10 x 12.5 cm PRECEDING PAGE 1853 Goolwa #1 Ngarrindjeri Nation 2016 (detail) scratched daguerreotype, 10 x 12.5 cm

During the winter of 2015, Tylor made multiple trips to Kangaroo Island and Cape Jervis, now the main port that connects the island to the mainland. On one particular visit, Tylor walked from Encounter Bay all the way to Cape Jervis, tracing the steps of his Kaurna ancestors over the course of a journey that lasted three days. It is in this sense that Territorial Encounters is a performative work – an endurance piece of sorts. By retracing these routes and documenting his findings, the artist reframes this contested and contentious landscape. Tylor is an artist who identifies equally with his Kaurna, European and Maori heritage. The significance of his tri-cultural heritage is paramount, since Tylor and his work embody multiple perspectives. Territorial Encounters converges simultaneously on all three experiences – that of coloniser, the colonised and the onlooker. 2

In the series Karta, the artist has violently scratched into the surface of ten small daguerreotypes, erasing important stories, cultural sites and objects found on Kangaroo Island. The island, known as Karta (‘The Island of the Dead’) to the Kaurna people, is thought to have become detached from the mainland some 10,000 years ago; however, until approximately 2,500 years ago (when seafaring became too dangerous) it was regularly accessed by Nunga people.1 During the 1800s the island was used by European whalers and sealers as a commercial hunting base. It was also where these same men enslaved Aboriginal women, including those from Tasmania. Tylor’s daguerreotypes draw attention to this dark and largely ignored history, presenting competing perspectives in the one image. While each laceration suggests a kind of covering up or obliteration of history, their very presence also draws our attention to that which has been overlooked. In quite a literal sense, the scratches carved into these photographs speak to the removal and decimation of Aboriginal culture by European colonisers. For example, in Hidden in the shadows (2016), Tylor has gouged out a cluster of trees, highlighting the way in which farmers would literally cover up massacres by planting shrubs on top of the site. Furthermore, the scratches in these photographs not only emphasise the violence perpetrated by colonisers but also reinstate these histories into contemporary discourse. That is the power of Tylor’s work: through his process of erasure we learn to look, to probe and to question our interpretation of landscape and culture, both in a contemporary and historical context. It is as though each scratch stresses the lasting, painful legacy of dispossession, violence and colonisation. We cannot help but wonder: what is behind these marks; what was there first? In Territorial Encounters, the second series of daguerreotypes included in this exhibition, Tylor has superimposed city plans over a stretch of coastal country. These grids, similarly gouged into the surface of each photograph, are facsimiles of regional centres across South Australia, including Port

Pirie, Ceduna, Port Lincoln and Port Wakefield. Although the townships replicated are far-reaching and state-wide, the coastal imagery beneath each grid is taken from Encounter Bay, creating a collision between history and geography. Tylor has deliberately layered Western architectural plans over the landscape to emphasise the region’s role in the colonisation of Australia. It was Flinders’ maps of this coastline that informed British forces on where best to establish settlements. Subsequently, Karta became a vantage point to ‘discover’ potential sites. In Territorial Encounters we see clearly that these cities, town centres and architectural structures were imposed, not only on the landscape, but also on Indigenous people. Tylor’s work implies that underneath the bricks and mortar is a country brimming with cultural and historical value. These histories are also documented in the form of an immersive soundscape, created in close collaboration with Brad Harkin and Sue Kneebone. As though reviving ghosts from the past, Kneebone recites colonial accounts and histories, drawn from across Australia, including Encounter Bay and Karta. Interestingly, Kneebone’s own artistic practice is primarily concerned with interrogating ‘pioneer’ narratives from the perspective of the coloniser – her own pastoralist family history having informed this approach. By employing Kneebone’s voice and pairing her with Harkin, an emerging Aboriginal artist in the role of audio technician, Tylor again presents the audience with an alternative perspective of colonial history, one which co-exists alongside Indigenous discourse. Tylor’s work reminds us that it is not necessary to replenish the Australian landscape with Indigenous objects, signs and signifiers. That in fact by doing so, we continue to reinforce imperialist structures and epistemological systems. Rather, recognising what already exists and what has been removed is a far more powerful acknowledgment of history. In some respects, this approach aligns with Tylor’s interest in decolonial thinking (decoloniality), which underpins much of his practice. For this exhibition Tylor has scrubbed the floors with native eucalypt oil and placed traditional Indigenous objects alongside his photographs. These subtle actions seek to normalise Indigenous cultural objects, materials

and practices and crucially, are presented and contextualised by the artist himself, a sovereign person. Asserting his right to occupy space is also evident in the gold wall markings throughout the exhibition, a gestural and seemingly random pattern developed by the artist as a tool to further decolonise the white cube. In some respects, these wall paintings could be interpreted as an inversion of the daguerreotypes: rather than scratching away at the surface, Tylor colonises the gallery space in a similar manner to that of a graffiti artist. By layering paint over the existing walls, each stroke not only marks out territory but is also an act of reclamation. When considering the systematic invasion and colonisation of Australia, the relevance of Encounter Bay and Karta should not be underestimated. That this place and its history have gone largely unrecognised in contemporary, mainstream discourse is sadly, unsurprising. Tylor overturns this omission, restoring territorial narratives to their rightful place in history through the process of erasure. In doing so, Tylor not only spotlights Nunga people in South Australia, but also echoes and reinforces the universality of their experience. Ultimately, Territorial Encounters teaches us to see. To see history and to see country, be it suburban, regional or rural, as contested ground; as sites of loss, resilience and conquest. Tylor’s work invites us to scrutinise closely and to acknowledge that even though some things no longer appear as they once did, the scar – the memory – nevertheless persists. – Liz Nowell, Executive Director, CACSA

Endnotes 1. Copland, G., 2002, ‘The Mysteries of Karta (Alias Kangaroo Island): Creation, Colonisers and Crusoes’ in Counterpoints: Flinders University journal of interdisciplinary conference papers, p.74, URL <http://ehlt.flinders.edu.au/projects/ counterpoints/Proc_2002/Pdf/A9.pdf>, accessed 20 June 2016.

Karta (The Island of the Dead)

This series explores the dark human history of Karta/ Kangaroo Island from a Nunga1 and a European-Australian perspective. Ramindjeri people settled the island about 60,000 years ago when it was attached to the continent of Australia. Karta2 remained attached to the mainland until approximately 10,000 years ago, when the sea levels began to rise creating the island. Karta became completely isolated from the mainland nearly 2000-5000 years ago. Ngarrindjeri people tell a story about when the sea levels rose causing the separation of the island from the mainland. Matthew Flinders, who mapped the island in 1803 for the British land claim, was responsible for its English name. He called the island Kangaroo Island after the tame kangaroos he slaughtered for fresh meat for the crew of his ship The Investigator. American whalers and sealers later colonised the island for a short period before abandoning it. Karta became an outpost for whalers and sealers to base themselves for their commercial hunting. Often during this period Indigenous women from the mainland and Tasmania were kidnapped and taken to Karta as sexual and domestic slaves for the male European whalers and sealers. A story from this time tells of three Ngarrindjeri

women and a baby, who tried to escape from their captors by crossing the strait of sea that separates Karta from the mainland. Two of the women crossed in a small rowing boat, but there wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t enough room for the woman and baby, so the mother was forced to tie her baby to her back and swim across the fourteen kilometre stretch of water, but they failed to make it back to the mainland. In August 1836 the British officially colonised Kangaroo lsland and set up the town of Kingscote, choosing to colonise Karta first rather than the mainland of South Australia, because British settlers would not be threatened by attacks from Nunga people. Kingscote became a key vantage point from where the British were able colonise the mainland of South Australia. â&#x20AC;&#x201C; James Tylor, 2016

Endnotes 1. Nunga refers to South Australian Aboriginal people or person (Nunga Kriol) 2. Karta is the Ramindjeri and Kaurna name for Kangaroo Island