20/09 ACCA – Tennant Creek Brio

20/09 ACCA – Tennant Creek Brio

I was the tiniest bit hungover and genuinely only had a couple of beers the night before, but a few too many games of pool saw me getting home around 1:30 in the morn, knowing very well this day was a massive one for me. I got a 3-hour coffee with a mate, scrambled home for some admin and pre-blog research, figured out my Romeo & Juliette outfit for later that night and made my way into the city for the Tennant Creek Brio opening at ACCA.

Oh yeah also, my bike got stolen from my garage. I now have no choice but to PTV to these openings until I buy a new leg-powered chariot.

So before the show, I got caught in the rain, and if any of you can recall back, it was torrential as fuck. Didn’t take long for me to call an Uber, which I was kind of excited about honestly. I still earphone’d the whole way, listening to a mix of Kevin Coyne and DJ Rashad. I was excited because I felt lowkey like some celebrity blogger, getting dropped off in my limo chauffeur, dropped at the door of ACCA and walking straight in. The only difference was I was riding in a Nissan Altima and when I was dropped off, I got asked to wait outside for 10 minutes because the gallery was full… in the rain.

The positive was however when we neared ACCA, the driver, whom I was rudely earphoning in front of rather than conversing, asked about my scent insinuating I smelt amazing. I don’t gatekeep. Tom Ford Ombré Leather.

OMBRÉ LEATHER

As I stepped into the gallery foyer, a guy immediately zeroed in on me and asked:
“Are you Tristian?”

Nope.

I had absolutely no idea who Tristian was. But honestly, what would’ve happened if I just went with it?

“Yeah bro, I’m Tristian.”

Was Tristian some artsy V.I.P.? Like, Melbourne’s hottest new Art-Bro? Maybe I could have been Tristian. I’m kind of halfway there right guys?

But the way he asked, like it was so serious. Like he’d been waiting at the door all day just to interrogate me — what if Tristian wasn’t someone I wanted to be? Like, what if Tristian was in deep shit, like, “the gallery cops are looking for you” kind of deep? And suddenly I’m not so sure I want to be Tristian anymore.

If you’re reading this, Tristian (or if you’re hiding out somewhere because you’ve been implicated in an art Ponzi scheme and ACCA’s onto you) best of luck to you brother.

(I asked ChatGPT to describe what this Tristian guy could potentially look like so I could make up a visual for you guys. Here’s my Sketchy looking Tristian)

Onto the show – ACCA’s Tennant Creek Brio: Juparnta Ngattu Minjinypa Iconocrisis

Before I properly start, I’ll say as a non-Indigenous Australian, I approach writing about the Tennant Creek Brio with an awareness of the influence of Western European cultural society and its impact on the original custodians of the land. I acknowledge my background as being of post-settler origins. This blog post includes information and images of Indigenous artists from Tennant Creek in the Northern Territory, and I wish to recognise the Traditional Custodians of the land on which I study and write. I pay my respects to Elders past, present, and emerging, and affirm that sovereignty has never been ceded. The land on which I create will always be Aboriginal land.

The exhibition was unreal. Super busy and for good reason. I’m sure the majority of you reading know ACCA (Australia Centre for Contemporary Art) or have visited the space, but in case you’re a rock dweller (someone who genuinely lives under a rock), the venue is one of Melbourne’s leading contemporary art galleries that brings the latest and most significant artists and works, both local or international for the Melbourne art scene. They commission works by local and international artists and are recognised as the only major art gallery/institution in Australia that focuses heavily on commissioning over collecting artworks.

In 2016, the Tennant Creek Brio was established as a collective of artists comprising Northern Territory-based Indigenous men. The mining industry is centred in the town, and this exhibition at ACCA explores how First Nations artists combine the customs of Aboriginal culture with the industrial materiality of the mining sector by repurposing leftover debris and found materials. These pieces are then presented in a confrontational way regarding the impact left on the land. The group’s initial focus in 2016 was on challenging certain stereotypes that were imposed on the men of Tennant Creek and on intervening in the behaviour of Indigenous men. Through art programmes, the Brio helped the town’s residents heal from various traumas and established a haven for individuals and a collective.

ACCA Homepage Tennant Creek

Juparnta Ngattu Minjinypal Iconocrisis, an exhibition at ACCA, details the collective’s practice of using mark-making to create art that connects to their cultural identities on found objects around them or at home in Tennant Creek. Examples of these objects include oil barrels, poker machines, and other ready-made that are widely found throughout the central Northern Territory and highlight Western cultures and post-contact impacts. The central themes of this programme are confrontation and telling the truth. Confrontation of several crises linked by disagreements over beliefs and disputes over disputatious histories. The Brio’s show revolves around the concepts of extraction, reclamation, and collaboration.

caution signs
slot machines
oil drums
car parts
hard hats
barrels
solar pannels
topography maps
gas tanks
masonite boards
mud bricks

All found materials turned into works that were displayed on the night. Naturally, with all these unique found materials, the displacement of the works placed against a white or black wall turned the junk into masterpieces. Ready-mades to an extent (which I’m a big fan of), such as slot machines seen on the street versus a painted one, or even better, ones impailed by spears and displayed in the centre of a gallery space present the mundanity of the original in such a different light. I noticed this with majority of the works. The solar Panels in particular.

Displayed vertically against a steel cage-like wall, these patterned, high-tech panels layered traditional Indigenous painting styles upon smashed cells with protruding from its frame. The inclusion of sand/dirt among the painterly textured brush strokes that contrasts the idea of glass panels with underlying wires, cables and sensors that the usual solar panel incorporates, creates a distinct difference between the finished outcomes whilst highlighting a contrast in culture.

Gridded lines built to connect electrical stuff underneath the glass (can you tell I have zero clue how a solar panel works, I’m just working from my visuals) in comparison to the added varying circles lightly painted allows me to recognise two distinct approaches to mark making. Refined versus raw in a way. Certain aspects of these panels do allude to that sense of ‘collaboration’ I briefly mentioned before, and I believe the choice of colour and line/shape added to these high-tech frames was done with a conscious effort to keep the original aesthetic but personalise them towards the collective.

The Crowd at this show was so much cooler than the previous shows I’d been to. I’m talking tattoos, sideburns, so much black clothing, etc… The one night im dressed for a Romeo & Juliette themed 21st afterwards.

I was wearing a tie, some super big, size 38, pleated white Gazman pants from the op-shop, a lightly tattered chore jacket over the top of the puffy white shirt I got from Seinfeld, and some black loafers. It actually looked really good despite the description sounding absolutely horrendous, but I was still so jealous of some people here.

The Chardonnay I drank was $11 and tasted just average as (probably just the hangover talking) so I only had one. Also because hanging in the foyer alone drinking a chardonnay i found weirder than walking around the artworks alone taking notes, so i spent majority of my time there.

For most of it, I was alone (not lonely. Just alone), however, I ran into a few familiar faces throughout the night. Indiana, Chelsea, and a few others I totally forgot the name of but I go to uni with were around, but then again it was so packed it was literally so packed I only saw them all once. I saw my old lecturer vigorously splashing his face with water in the bathroom sink which I found profusely funny for zero reason. I let him be.

Seeing the artwork in this light, having each room packed and having to initially wait outside for 10 minutes before being allowed to visit created such anticipation and excitement for me that I didn’t want to leave. This is a great example of what opening nights offer that ordinary gallery hours don’t. You get the constant background noise and movement from the audience which you can either see as a negative or a positive, but I see it as an opportunity to meet people and chat about artworks with visitors, or, if you’re the less outgoing type, maybe even just listen in to peoples conversations (without being creepily weird or close to them of course) about the works, furthering your understanding/thinking of each artwork. It’s an excuse to dress up, look at some art, drink some $11 bad chardonnay, meet people, and even possibly catch one of your lecturers dunking his head in a sink full of water.