Review: Cultural Memory in ‘Emily Kam Kngwarray’ at Tate Modern

Remarkably, Emily Kam Kngwarray only spent about eight years painting. Kngwarray was born in 1910 in Alhalkere, Utopia, Northern Territory, Australia. He died at the age of 86. For most of her life, she helped her family raise their children and worked on a cattle ranch. Then, in her seventies, she began to paint. And what paintings she painted. London’s Tate Modern is hosting Europe’s first large-scale, richly detailed solo exhibition of Emily Kam Kngwarray’s artistic contributions that reverberates with otherworldly wisdom.
When Kngwarray was born, Utopia was a vast grazing land leased by the Australian government. In 1978, the area was recognized as the true homeland of the Anmatyerr and Alyawarre Aboriginal tribes and returned to their care. Kngwarray is an elder of Anmatyerr, and her artwork elegantly depicts the history and dreams of her people, the Aboriginal origin story of the universe and everything in between.
Women sing and dance to celebrate and pay tribute to the fertility of the earth. These solemn ceremonies are central elements of Kngwarray’s vision. Women ritually painted their bodies with ocher powder, and Kngwarray transferred these decorations into her paintings. Her powerful five meters long Yam aveli The painting, created a year before her death, is a dazzling canvas. Kngwarray’s favored earth tones and uncut jewel tones intertwine across the canvas, as if following the sinuous rhythms of nature. Kngwarray lays her canvas flat on the ground and paints while sitting on the floor, giving her work the suspended feel of an aerial landscape. It is reasonable to imagine that her markings show images seen by spirits floating above the land.


Emily Kam Kngwarray’s first artistic experiments began in the 1970s, when she learned the batik printing process, and a selection of her fabric prints are on display here. The richly decorated textiles are grand in scale and hang gracefully in the center of the room. The art of batik was introduced as part of a government-supported education program, an initiative that the women of Utopia used to show that the art of the region was not just the preserve of men. Furthermore, local art had previously been limited to leaving traces on the ground, bodies and objects. Now symbols and patterns can be transferred to fabric. The program also provided Kngwarray with the opportunity to hone his artistic foundations and subsequent paintings that sprouted from the freedom unleashed by batik printing.
As Kngwarray’s output reached a breakneck pace, producing approximately 3,000 paintings in an eight-year sprint, in addition to the awe-inspiring rituals, the ecology of Alhalkere is also present in her work. The “Kam” part of Kngwarray’s name comes from the seed pods of the pencil yam vegetable (also known as kam), and she painted the seeds, yams and other plants from the area, as well as local birds and animals. Made in 1991, brocade This demonstrates the importance of brocade as thousands of seed-like spots gather on the canvas, ready to settle down and find a place to grow. Marking Kngwarray’s transition from batik to acrylic painting, she emu girl The 1988 artwork depicts an almost unrecognizable naked female torso dancing in homage to native birds. In 1989, he was selected for the “Summer Project: Utopian Women’s Paintings” exhibition at SH Ervin Gallery in Sydney. emu girl Kngwarray’s artistic career began. Not bad for an artist’s first painting.


Another early painting of Ntang grass seeds, Entang Mengthese punctuations emphasize Kngwarray’s gift for containing dizzying complexity within deceptive simplicity. Entang 1990 Is a collection of green, orange and off-white dots. Or is it? Zoom in and you’ll see wavy ribbons and shapes mysteriously embedded beneath the puddles. Ridges appear and disappear at dawn and dusk like mountains. Kngwarray’s dot work makes Damien Hirst’s pointillism look like a cynical expression of shoddy commercial opportunism. Her wavy lines are free and spirited. this Al Haq This 1993 set is a vast mosaic of 22 canvases, a gorgeous and busy portrait of Kngwarray’s beloved landscape of blooming wildflowers.


The year after Kngwarray’s death, her work was exhibited at the Australian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale. There are no records to explain why her output during her lifetime was not included. However, the 1997 pavilion did also feature art by Yvonne Koolmatrie and Judy Watson, a move that helped to educate the entrenched art community about the culture, skills and importance of Australia’s Aboriginal female artists. Emily’s Untitled (Aveli) Paintings from 1994 are part of an exhibition in the pavilion, where they are also on display. The paintings consist of six panels that look like layers of dirt or rows of roughly plowed furrows.
The concept of nation is an intrinsic aspect of Aboriginal Australia’s relationship with their homeland. Country connects them to their ancestors and the land that provided them with food and shelter. Regardless, Kngwarray’s artwork gently explains the importance of the countryside. It’s almost as if her work is done by (whisper) a higher power. If this all sounds a bit exaggerated, who cares? This is a piece of art that can lift the lowest of spirits.
“Emily Kam Kenware” On display at Tate Modern until 11 January 2026. It is recommended to book in advance.


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