Aura

Revivers of a lost art

By Mark Douglas

Revivers of a lost art
book cover Birrundudu drawings Birrundudu drawings book cover

In 1945 as World War II was nearing its end in Europe and the Pacific, husband and wife anthropological team Ronald and Catherine Berndt travelled to the Birrundudu cattle station on the borders of Western Australia and the Northern Territory.

There they aimed to explore and document the lives, history and cultural practices of Aboriginal Peoples of that region at a transition point from the traditional lifestyle their ancestors had pursued for tens of thousands of years, to life working on a cattle station.

In practical terms, Ronald Berndt was documenting the religious and cultural knowledge of the men. He was particularly focused on the rituals that went on privately, away from the gaze of the station managers.

He used photography to do this but was also partial to sketching ceremonies, as he felt something of the dynamism of performance was flattened out in photos. This practice intensified as he ran out of film.

At the same time, men at Birrundudu expressed concern that the ceremonies Berndt had been documenting with his camera were no longer being recorded. Berndt later explained that the momentum around the drawings was born of this moment and driven by the men themselves.

“They appreciated that I was recording in writing and also making rough sketches," he wrote. "However, they suggested that they themselves should draw their rituals, ceremonies, Dreaming sites and so on. And that is what they did.”

Soon the group of men, from different cultural and linguistic groups, began to record these images themselves, removing the filter of the European hand as they documented their own world. The result, over a period of three months, was 810 drawings by 16 men created at their camp after work.

Over the ensuing decades, these drawings were preserved but largely forgotten on the shelves of the Berndt Museum in Western Australia.

Now, for the first time since they were created, they are broadly available thanks to a new book, Birrundudu Drawings.

One of the primary investigators of this ARC-funded research project was Aboriginal art expert John Carty, Adelaide University's Professor of Museum and Curatorial Studies.

"We started this project about five or six years ago to see if we could unlock drawings that no one's ever seen," Professor Carty says.

"The men who did the drawings have all long since died. In many cases, the next generation has passed away too. There was a reluctance to engage with the drawings, and a concern that these drawings were maybe not viewable anymore, that they were secret/sacred.

"And so, they just fell into silence. The great concern for us was if we didn't do something now, with the current generation of Aboriginal leaders, it may not be possible to ask these questions in the future. It became a really urgent project for us, and even more so for the men in these desert communities.

"These drawings were created at a horrendous cattle station in the middle of the desert in 1945 with people being treated terribly. The human rights abuses were shocking. Their lives were completely invisible to the rest of Australia, and these men set out to educate the one white guy who paid any interest in their world. That’s the context the drawings come out of.

"It's important to remember that. They were an act of communication. And they're really important today because that whole history of Western Desert art has all been written without any real awareness of these drawings, without any real understanding that contemporary art isn't something that just happened like a genie out of a bottle. There's this huge tradition of translating things visually across cultures that Aboriginal people have been involved in forever."

Drawing Porgi Ratnya Jungarrayi, Lefthand (Jampu) Jungarrayi and Kulminy (Tommy) Jakamarra drawing at Birrundudu, 25 March 1945 Photograph by Ronald Berndt Berndt Museum Collection

Hard to believe it was the men’s first time making art with crayons

What was new to those 16 men were the crayons and paper the Berndts supplied them with.

"They've never seen crayons before. They've never had access to butcher's paper before. They've never been asked by anyone to actually translate their Dreamings and their stories and their designs onto paper," Professor Carty says.

"So, you’d assume the Birrundudu drawings would be quite patchy. In terms of their quality, you’d expect some false starts, some things rubbed out, things done again. But there isn't a single scratching out. There's not a single erasure on these drawings that we see.

"Every drawing, it's like everyone knew exactly what to do straight away the first time they used crayon and paper. And of course they did, because they’d been telling these stories across so many other mediums – on rock surfaces, on the body, in the sand, in song – forever.

"These drawings were just the first permanent record that an anthropologist could roll up and take away. And then everyone forgot about them for 80 years."

It is clear that the artists relished being able to express themselves in new colours, having traditionally had access to yellow and red ochre, white pipe clay and black ash, the four iconic colours of Aboriginal desert art.

"You see these guys really play with colour – and you also see certain artists really try and hold on to the green crayon," Professor Carty says.

"You see a couple of guys who are clearly just doing lots of green works, really gravitating toward the chance to use these colours: because the world out there is full of color, right? The desert spring flowers out there, it's psychedelic. It's pink and purple and blue and green and it's wild. The desert is full of all this colour and those artists had never had access to that palette. And they dive into it with great joy and abandon."

Drawing Lefthand (Jampu) Jungarrayi Not titled (Yam plant and leaves) Berndt Museum Collection (1945/0120)

Detective work to find descendants and links to cultural knowledge

One of the great difficulties Professor Carty and the team faced was how best to reconnect the descendants of the artists with these forgotten drawings in a culturally sensitive manner.

"That was a really complex process over three or four years of driving around the desert," Professor Carty says.

"The first problem was nobody knew that these drawings existed. So, we had to go and track down the descendants of the artists who now lived across the desert and Kimberley region. This process was guided by the senior Aboriginal men that we collaborated with on the project, it was done very carefully.

"Then the next step was making sense of the drawings when we’d found the right people to share them with. What was beautiful was seeing the level of cultural knowledge and detail archived in the drawings being discussed and reactivated by this generation. It was the first time anyone knew that their grandfather, say, had done 100 drawings.

"It was always a lovely, sometimes disorienting, kind of experience for each family because they got to see something they didn't ever imagine they would see. And they got to see their grandfather, for example, as a seriously good artist. But also, as someone who had left them an unexpected and incredibly rich legacy."

As part of this process of documenting the drawings with the families, the research team sought to understand if the drawings could also be shared with future generations, and with the public.

The fear, after 80 years of sitting on the shelf, was that they may contain restricted or secret/sacred knowledge that shouldn’t be seen. About 250 of the drawings were deemed to have such elements to them and remain restricted – the rest are now open for public sharing for the first time.

Many of the drawings display ceremonies still performed to this day, while others revealed ceremonies that had not been performed in a long time.

"There's elements of the drawings that are leading people back into parts of cultural narratives that maybe didn't get passed on because of the impacts of colonisation and the separation of some families," Professor Carty says.

"The drawings are an archive of knowledge that isn't necessarily for researchers. It's an archive that's of immeasurable value for Aboriginal community members and family members to go back and fill in some of the gaps of information that didn't flow down through the generations. And that happened within the project, which was really beautiful to see.

"When we started this, the collection was at risk of staying silent on a museum shelf forever: being unavailable to the next generation and all the generations to come.  

"We've now published the book and had the first exhibition (at the Perth International Art Festival in February 2026) and usually that would seem like an ending to the research – but I suspect it's probably just the beginning of lots of beautiful community processes that now can happen over the years ahead."

Listen to an interview about the drawings with Professor Carty on ABC Late Night Live.

Birrundudu Drawings is published by Upswell Publishing.

Drawing John Carty, right, at the launch of an exhibition of the drawings

Republish this article

Republish our articles for free, online or in print, under Creative Commons licence. See our republishing guidelines for details.