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Julie Gough pdf ppt of 56 key artworks 1993-2010 with text.

Julie Gough pdf ppt of 56 key artworks 1993-2010 with text.

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    Gough 56artworks W Texts Sm Gough 56artworks W Texts Sm Presentation Transcript

    • Julie
Gough
 Rifle
and
Boomerang,
1993
 Oil
on
canvas,
text
on
acrylic,
9
Aust.
;mbers

 1240
x
945
x
90
mm
 Acquired
Powerhouse
Museum,
Sydney

    • Julie
Gough
 RIFLE
AND
BOOMERANG,
1993
 Oil
on
canvas,
text
on
acrylic,
9
Aust.
;mbers
 1240
x
945
x
90
mm
 Collec;on
of
the
Powerhouse
Museum,
Sydney
 “Rifle
and
Boomerang”
is
a
piece
through
which
I
suggest
that
the
educa;on
system
is
one
place
from
which
formally
sanc;oned
racism
has
 spread
throughout
society.
The
text
and
image
of
this
work
have
been
taken
from
a
children’s
reader
“Rifle
and
Boomerang”
(ages
8
‐
12)
 and
Arthur
Mee’s
Children’s
Encyclopaedia
(see
:
aborigines
entry)
(circa
1938.

 Both
are
prime
examples
of

where
and
how
cultural
aZtudes
have
emerged.
The
frame
of
different
(colours
and
hardness’s)
na;ve
;mbers
 interlinked,
surrounding
and
enclosing
the
work
suggest
various
meanings
‐
perhaps
of

Aboriginal
Communi;es'

solidarity
within/despite
 the
adversi;es
of
the
various
systems
they
have
had
to
nego;ate
‐
the
Educa;on,
Mission,
Health
etc.
 I
hope
this
piece
is
a
trigger
(both
reminding
and
warning)
of
the
real
danger
of
propagandist
Educa;on
when
it
is
carried
on
 (as
is
its
role)
beyond
the
school
grounds.
Designed
to
infiltrate
and
influence
successive
genera;ons,

the
shadow
of
the
Australian
 Government’s
despera;on
to
prove
Aboriginal
people
an
inferior,
childlike
race
requiring
total
manipula;on
is

 part
of
every
ci;zen’s
shadow
today.

    • Julie
Gough
 Physiological
Adapta@on
to
Cold,
1994 

 Medical
Series,
1994
(detail)

 ;n,
polystyrene,
plas;c,
stainless
steel,
mercury,
acrylic
 27.0
x
19.0
x
15.0
cm

    • Julie
Gough
 Julie
Gough
 Hair
Differen@a@on,
1994
 Tooth
Avulsion,
1994
 Medical
series,
1994
(detail)

 Medical
series,
1994
(detail)

 ;n,
synthe;c
and
human
hair,
wax,
stainless
steel,
chrome,
acrylic
 ;n,
synthe;c
and
plaster
teeth,

 103.0
x
49.5
x
35.5
cm
 mixed
media,
chrome,
acrylic
 103.0
x
49.5
x
28.0
cm

    • Julie
Gough
 Medical
series
(detail),
1994
 Fingerprint
paGerning

    • Julie
Gough
 Eyeball
Weight,
1994
 Medical
series,
1994
(detail)
 ;n,
plas;c,
found
objects,
acrylic
 30.0
x
26.0
x
22.0
cm

    • Julie
Gough
 Physical
characteris@cs
‐
Body
Odour,
1994
 Medical
series,
1994
(detail)
 ;n,
oil,
soap,
wax,
towelling,
acrylic
 40.0
x
30.0
x
8.0
cm

    • Julie
Gough
 Julie Gough Earwax
Consistency,
1994
 Brain capacity Medical
series,
1994
(detail)

 Medical series, 1994 (detail) Tin,
wax,
plas;c,

acrylic,
mixed
media
 Mixed media, variable dimensions
 5.5
x
29.5
x
40.0
cm

Cabinet:
89.0
x
51.0
x
40.0
cm

    • Julie Gough Intelligence Testing - The Porteus Maze Test, 1994 Medical series, 1994 (detail) tin, plastic, sawdust, paint, sawdust, chrome, acrylic 170.0 x 39.5 x 29.5 cm

    • The
Medical
Series
are
:



 [1]
Intelligence
Tes;ng
‐
The
Porteus
Maze
Test,
1994
 ;n,
plas;c,
sawdust,
paint,
sawdust,
chrome,
acrylic
 170.0
x
39.5
x
29.5
cm
 “
Based
on
the
1930s
anthropological
test‐on‐paper
given
to
Indigenous
peoples
(in
this
case
in
the
Arrente
people
of
central
Australia)
to
determine
IQ
by
 the
speed
one
traversed
a
maze
on
paper
by
pencil”.
 [2]
Physiological
Adapta;on
to
Cold,
1994 

 ;n,
polystyrene,
plas;c,
stainless
steel,
mercury,
acrylic
 27.0
x
19.0
x
15.0
cm
 “
A
visual
reconfigura;on
of
the
research
of
a
1950s
Czechoslovakian
research
team
who
‘placed’
central
desert
Aboriginal
people
in
refrigerated‐meat‐vans
 overnight
to
determine
their
Physiological
Adapta;on
to
Cold”.
 [3]
Skull
Dimensions,
1994
 galvanised
iron,
soil,
gravel,
plas;c,
bone,
chrome,
acrylic 

 114.0
x
57.0
x
47.0
cm
 [4]
Hair
Differen;a;on,
1994
 ;n,
synthe;c
and
human
hair,
wax,
stainless
steel,
chrome,
acrylic
 103.0
x
49.5
x
35.5
cm
 [5]
Eyeball
Weight,
1994
 ;n,
plas;c,
found
objects,
acrylic
 30.0
x
26.0
x
22.0
cm
 [6]
Tooth
Avulsion,
1994 
 

 ;n,
synthe;c
and
plaster
teeth,
mixed
media,
chrome,
acrylic
 103.0
x
49.5
x
28.0
cm
 [7]
Physical
characteris;cs
‐
Body
Odour,
1994
 ;n,
oil,
soap,
wax,
towelling,
acrylic
 40.0
x
30.0
x
8.0
cm
 [8]
Earwax
Consistency,
1994 

 Tin,
wax,
plas;c,

acrylic,
mixed
media
 5.5
x
29.5
x
40.0
cm

Cabinet:
89.0
x
51.0
x
40.0
cm
 [9]
Fingerprint
Pakerning,
1994
 [10]
Brain
Capacity,
1994
 
 
 


    • Medical
Series,
1994
 Ten
folded
and
welded
;n
and
galvanised
iron
‘cases’
holding
mixed
media
founds
and
made
objects
and
silk
screened
images

 and
text
on
the
case‐covers.
These
cases
present
a
reconfigura;on
of
of
the
supposed
scien;fic/western
physical
evidence

 for
supposed
racial
difference
=
inferiority.
 The
case
studies
I
sculpturally
worked
were
my
accumula;ons
of
scien;fic
understandings
of
'iden;ty'
at
a
;me
when

 I
was
directly
learning
about
the
posi;on
and
representa;on
of
my
extended
Indigenous
family
(and
thus
myself),

 by
people
both
Aboriginal
and
non‐Aboriginal
in
Tasmania.
I
created
a
series
of
pieces
about
the
body.

 There
was
a
freedom
in
allowing
different
por;ons
of
the
body
to
speak
of
the
ways
in
which
they
had
been
tested
and
probed.

 This
became
a
series
about
processes
of
collec;on.
The
omen
familiar
objects
within
the
cases
ins;gated
a
dialogue
between

 the
viewer
and
the
work
prior
to
the
texts
being
read.
I
began
to
see
the
carrying‐poten;al
which
configura;ons
of
objects
could
hold.





 These
works
each
had
texts
from
scien;fic
books
and
journals
silk‐screened
onto
perspex

which
covered
and
enclosed
the
objects.

 This
way
of
assembling
objects
was
pivotal
to
the
future
development
of
works
incorpora;ng
or
elimina;ng
the
wriken
word.

 This
work
was
central
to
my
Honours
submission
and
subsequently
was
exhibited
in
Perspecta
1995
at
the
Art
Gallery
of
New
South
Wales.

 Series
acquired
by
the
Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery,
1995

    • Julie
Gough
 Medical
series,
1994
 Ten
case‐studies
of
medical
and
anthropological
measurements
for
indica;ng
racial
difference
 Mixed
media,
variable
dimensions
 Exhibited
Perspecta
1994
Art
Gallery
of
New
South
Wales.
Acquired
Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery
1995

    • Julie
Gough
 Psycho
1960,
Julie
1965,
Luna
1970,
1995
 mixed
media,
variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Julie
1965,
1995
 suitcase,
balsa
wood,
motor,
tape
deck,
acrylic
on
ply,
moss,
 plas;c,
wood,
rack,
stool
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Julie
Gough
 Psycho
1960,
1995
 Luna
1970,
1995
 wood,
suitcase,
chair,
motor,
moss,
acrylic
paint
and
graphite.

 wood,
suitcase,
ping
pong
balls,
bag,
chair,
 Collec;on
the
ar;st
 
matchs;cks,
latex
rubber,
acrylic
paint
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 LYING
WITH
THE
LAND
‐
1

1996
 16
photographs,
Mantelpiece,
fire
guard.
Preserving
jars
of
Flour,
Tea,
Salt,
Tobacco,
Sugar.
 This
work
is
composed
of
16
photographs
of
longterm
Midlands‐Tasmania
landholders
from
mid
1810s
‐
present‐day.

 I
took
these
images
myself
at
1995‐96
Tasmanian
Royal
Agricultural
Shows,
where
I
found
the
landowners
with
the
produce/livestock
of
“their”
 lands.
 Index
cards
beneath
each
photo
consecu;vely
list
researched
data
of
original
'interac;ons'
between
the
Aboriginal
people
of
those
lands
(circa
 1820),
with
the
current
land‐occupiers
forebears,
along
with
the
present‐day
prize‐winning
agricultural
entrant’s
details.
The
pickling
jars
contain
 the
5
main
trade/bribe
items
of
:
tobacco,
flour,
tea,
salt
and
sugar.
 The
documented
history
of
Aboriginal/Sekler
contact
is
wriken
from
the
perspec;ve
of
the
laker
and
is
inflammatory
and
accusatory
towards
the
 Aborigines.
One‐sided
fic;on
rather
than
truth.
“Lying”
in
this
instance
represents
decep;on
rather
than
‘burial’
in
an
accompanying
piece
which
 situates
the
Aboriginal
people's
reloca;on
to
Wybalenna
cemetary
as
a
result
of
this
'seklement'..

    • Julie
Gough
 Julie
Gough
 Lying
with
the
land,
1,
1996
 Lying
with
the
land,
2,
1996
 photographs,
wood,
;n,
bukons,

ink
print
on
cokon,
 photographs,
wood,
;n,
jars,
tea,sugar,

tobacco,
flour,
 plaster,
light
bulbs
 
salt
 Variable
dimensions
 Variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
the
ar;st
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Moree
‐
Gene@c
pool,
1996
 Mixed
media,
variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 GENETIC
POOL
‐
MOREE,
1996
 Washing
machine,
1960s
men’s
bathers,
postcards
showing
swimming
pools
as
central
scenic
spot
of
rural
townships.
 Variable
dimensions
 The
elements
in
this
piece
are
intended
to
bring
together
a
distanced
viewing
of
the
‘colour
bar’
policy
enforced
in
some
rural
 townships’
swimming
pools
in
Australia
un;l
the
1960s.
In
the
mid‐1960s
Sydney
University
students
joined
Charles
Perkins
on
a
 bus
journey
through
rural
NSW
to
protest
this
blatant
form
of
racial
discrimina;on.
This
event
which
brought
world
aken;on
to
 Australian
 inequi;es
 was
 named
 the
 ‘Freedom
 Ride’.
 Although
 the
 ‘Freedom
 Ride’
 focused
 on
 swimming
 pools,
 it
 was
 a
 metaphor
 for
 discrimina;on
 at
 every
 level
 of
 Australian
 society.
 The
 target
 was
 Moree
 where
 heated
 conflict
 took
 place
 between
 ac;vists
 and
 locals.
 The
 ac;vists
 finally
 akained
 entry
 for
 Aboriginal
 children
 to
 the
 town
 pool
 amer
 ini;al
 false
 promises
of
access
were
revoked.
 
 
This
piece
gained
real
momentum
and
inspira;on
amer
I
viewed
a
documentary
two
years
ago
about
the

 
 
‘Freedom
Ride’.
One
local
protester,
a
Moree
resident,
recounted
a
story
explaining
the
town’s
fear
of
allowing
 
 

Aborigines
to
swim
amongst
‘whites’
in
the
pool
;
it
was
(supers;;ously)
believed
that
white
women
could

 
 
become
pregnant
from
bathing
where
Aboriginal
men
or
youths
had
swum
!!

Thus,
this
piece,
with
its
 
 

test‐tubes
filled
with
a
white
milky
substance
and
a
dozen
pairs
of
bathers
spinning
in
a
pseudo‐scien;fic

centrifugal
disinfec;ng
 
 
mo;on,
is
sugges;ng
the
bizarre
no;ons
and
dangerous
beliefs
which
start
at
home

 
 
and
spread
between
towns
and
beyond.
    • Julie
Gough
 Boxing
Boys,
1995
 Found
images,
frames,

puppets,
ink
print
of
names

on
cokon
 Variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Unknown,
1830
 Julie
Gough
 Governor
Arthur’s
Proclama;on
to
the
Aborigines
 Human
nature
and
Material
culture,
1995
 Van
Diemen’s
Land
 carpet,
bathroom
scales,
oil
on
;n
 (Image
reproduced
in
oil
paint
on
;n
disc
within
 Variable
dimensions

 bathroom
scales
in
Human
nature
and
Material
culture.)
 Acquired
Na;onal
Gallery
of
Australia

    • Julie
Gough
 Pedagogical
(Inner
Soul)
Pressure,
1996
(detail)
 40
pairs
of
second
hand
school
shoes,
lights,
slides,
found
photos,
s;lts,
shoe
shine
box,
acrylic
on
wood
 ≈
300
x
450
x
60
cm

 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Pedagogical
(Inner
Soul)
Pressure,
1996
(detail)
 40
pairs
of
second
hand
school
shoes,
lights,
slides,
found
photos,
s;lts,
shoe
shine
box,
acrylic
on
wood
≈
300
x
450
x
 60
cm


 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Pedagogical
(Inner
Soul)
Pressure,
1996
(detail)
 40
pairs
of
second
hand
school
shoes,
lights,
slides,
found
photos,
s;lts,
shoe
shine
box,
acrylic
on
wood
 ≈
300
x
450
x
60
cm

Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Pedagogical
(Inner
Soul)
Pressure,
1996
(detail)
 40
pairs
oaf
second
hand
school
shoes,
lights,
slides,
found
photos,
 s;lts,
shoe
shine
box,
acrylic
on
wood
 ≈
300
x
450
x
60
cm

 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Pedagogical
(Inner
Soul)
Pressure,
1996
(detail)
 40
pairs
of
second
hand
school
shoes,
lights,
slides,
found
photos,
s;lts,
shoe
shine
box,
acrylic
on
wood
 ≈
300
x
450
x
60
cm
Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 PEDAGOGICAL
(INNER
SOUL)
PRESSURE
1996
 40
pairs
of
used‐school
shoes
(20
black/20
brown),
old
s;lts,
shoe
shine
box,
Govt.
Photos
of
Aboriginal
children
in
Sydney’s
Luna
Park
Rotor
 Ride
in
the
1960s,

(Faked)
typical
child
behaviour
slides,
internal
lights.
 This
piece
developed
from
a
realisa;on
that
 
the
representa;on
of
children
and
their
directed
and
essen;ally
controlled
development
from
 the
 Ins;tu;ons
 they
 must
 nego;ate
 (including
 School,
 and
 various
 media
 ‐
 
 television
 and
 print)
 is
 actually
 quite
 a
 sinister
 and
 longterm
 manipula;ve
state‐approved
exercise
in
producing
safe
and
banal
ci;zens.

 The
 physical
 body
 of
 the
 work
 focuses
 on
 images
 from
 a
 US
 Government
 set
 of
 1970
 Child
 Behaviour
 Kit
 slides
 ‐
 which
 depict
 children
 in
 various
states
of
fakery
‐
imita;ng
fear,
happiness,
play,
parental
interac;on
and
pain.
These
images
are
placed
into
40
 
internally
lit,
and
 worn
pairs
of
school‐shoes
‐
40
black/40
brown.
 The
sheer
mul;tude
of
‘staged’
enactment's
of
what
are
supposed
to
be
the
‘real’
experiences
of
childhood,
actually
negate
any
possibili;es
 of
the
factual
by
the
repe;;ous
usage
of
the
same
children
in
different
configura;ons.
Thus,
by
a
type
of
historical
inves;ga;on
I
have
not
 been
duped
into
believing
that
the
Photographic
is
necessarily
the
truth.
 Similarly,
within
the
shoe
alignment
at
the
centrepoint
of
this
installa;on
is
fixed
a
shoe‐shine‐box,
above
which
runs
a
ver;cal
row
of
b/w
 images
 of
 Aboriginal
 children
 (from
 a
 NSW
 Children’s
 Home),
 whom,
 during
 1966
 had
 a
 day‐out
 to
 Luna
 Park,
 Sydney
 ‐
 where
 they
 were
 faithfully
recorded
and
photographically
documented
‘having
a
good
;me’
by
the
Home’s
Administra;on.
This
par;cular
set
of
images
of
the
 children
 in
 the
 ROTOR
 ‘ride’
 resembles
 ;me‐lapse
 photography
 by
 the
 various
 heights
 
 they
 are
 shown
 as
 ‘pasted’
 to
 the
 wall
 by
 the
 centrifugal‐force
of
the
ride.
These
children,
in
resembling
a
scien;fic
experiment
are
actually
mirroring
their
actual
life‐experience
of
being
 manipulated
and
controlled
by
the
Government
of
that
era.
The
two
sets
of
images
thus
u;lise
Ins;tu;onally
developed
documentary
format
 to
convince
the
public
that
the
invented
(or
par;al)
moment
is
the
Absolute
and
the
Actual.
    • Julie
Gough
 Pedagogical
(Inner
Soul)
Pressure,
1996
 40
pairs
of
second
hand
school
shoes,
lights,
slides,
found
photos,
s;lts,
shoe
shine
box,
acrylic
on
wood
 ≈
300
x
450
x
60
cm
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Bad
Language,
1996
 Paperback
books,
wood,
plas;c
coated
wire
 80
x
170
x
6
cm
 Acquired

Art
Gallery
of
Western
Australia
 Blackness‐as‐sexual‐proficiency
myth
&
the
Planta;on
as
a
hot‐bed
of
desire.
 Language
and
words
as
the
spreaders
of
dis‐ease.
 56
paperback
books
about
coloured
women
(and
men)
as
objects
of
cap;ve
desire.


    • Julie
Gough
 Bad
Language,
1996
 Paperback
books,
wood,
plas;c
coated
wire
 80
x
170
x
6
cm
 Collec;on
of
the
Art
Gallery
of
West
Australia

    • Brown
Sugar
is
a
6
x
10
foot
work
based
on
the
two‐year
journey
of
my
ancestor
Woretemoeteyerner,
who
travelled
from
Tasmanian
 Bass
Strait
to
mainland
Australia
and
across
to
Rodrigues
and
Mauri;us
between
1825
‐
1827.
 The
elements
of
chance
and
fragmenta;on
are
integral
to
the
work
due
to
the
informa;on
about
the
journey
accidentally
surviving
 within
the
indis;nct
diary
musings
of
Quaker
Missionaries,
Backhouse
and
Walker,
who
in
1831
recorded
that
 “She
spoke
a
likle
French...Having
been
to
the
Isle
of
France”.
 Further
archival
research
revealed
a
likle
more
including
that
Mauri;us
to
this
day
provides
Australia
with
sugar
:
once
all
types
‐
 today
only
demerara.
“Brown
Sugar”
has
been
u;lised
as
a
descrip;ve
and
derogatory

term
for
Black
women
throughout
White
 history.
The
work
“Brown
Sugar”
developed
from
the
realisa;on
that
“knowing”
a
complete
and

 unabridged
version
of
the
past
is
an
impossibility.
No;ons
of
journeying
and
discovery
provided
the
structure
for
the
piece

 and
allow
for
a
mirroring
thema;c
axis
to
exist
in
this
work.
This
fluctua;on
is
between
the
unplanned
lives
and
chance
encounters
of
 the
adventurers
(which
the
story
revolves
around)
and
the
similar
accidental
nature
determining
which
“facts”
and
names
are
 retained
for
any
future,
and
which
stories
become
History.
 Differing
perspec;ves
between
the
historical
record
and
my
own
no;ons
(at
this
point
in
;me)
of
my

ancestor’s
journey,
 has
resulted
in
a
work
that
suggests
an
unfinished
puzzle
‐
which
the
viewer
can
interact
with
and
visualise
on
a
personal
level.
 “Brown
Sugar”
is
a
sculptural
work
situated
between
two
modes
of
representa;on.
These
elements
are
the
physical,

 intui;ve
acts
of
collec;on
and
placement
of
familiar
objects
which
blurs,
modifies
and
ques;ons
the
ini;al
archival
research
process
 of
a
factual‐historical
event.
The
familiar
object
versus
the
cogni;ve
word.
 The
incongruous
nature
of
familiar
items
from
circa
1950
to
represent
a
par;cular
whaling/sealing
voyage
which
took
place
1825‐27
is
 intended
to
draw
and
yet
unsekle
the
viewer.
Aboriginal
Kitsch
female
face‐plaques
within
the

 work
are
intended
to
exist
as
objects
of
uncomfortable
interac;on.
20
calico
demerara‐sugar
filled

bags
are
intended
to
be
thrown
by
 the
viewer
through
the’
portholes,
whilst
old
rope
quoits
are
provided
to
throw
onto
protruding
dowels.
Chance
as
a
major
operant
of
 pre‐20th
century
life
informs
and
links
the
work
between
in
its
physical
board‐game
structure
and
researched
data
laden
areas,
where
 sea‐shan;es
provide
as
much
informa;on
as
diaries
and
maps
and
everyday
kitsch
objects.
 The
Tasmanian
archives
hold
correspondence
about
the
voyage;
how
due
to
poor
weather,
the
sealers
and
the
four

 Aboriginal
women
and
one
child
were
stranded
on
Rodrigues
Island;
with
the
Governments
of
Van
Diemen’s
Land,

 Mauri;us
and
New
South
Wales
discussing
who
was
going
to
pay
for
their
deporta;on
back
to
Australia
‐
arriving
back
in
Launceston
 four
vessels
and
two
years
amer
the
original
departure,
with
several
people
having
died
or
jumped
ship.
 One
aim
of
this
work,
in
reading
between
the
lines
of
history,
is
to
deliver
the
story
not
only
from
the
viewpoint
of
the
 
invisible
Other
(how
I
see
myself),
but
also
from
the
Twen;eth
Century
Other
who
also
cannot
envisage
the
original

 event
as
it
was,
but
chooses
to
akempt
an
understanding
of
the
voyage
as
a
pictorial
chain
of
thought
‐
a
picture
puzzle.

    • Julie Gough Brown Sugar, 1995/6 mixed media 180 x 300 x 15 cm Exhibited Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery, Hobart and 24 Hr Art, Darwin. Collection the artist
    • Julie
Gough
 My
tools
today,
1997
(detail)
 147
kitchen
tools
on
nails
through
eyelets
on
inkjet
print
on
fabric
of
 Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery
c.1974
 220
x
360

x
12
cm
 Exhibited
Adelaide
Biennale
1998
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 My
Tools
Today,
1996
 This
is
a
large
inkjet
print
(3.6
x
2.2
metres)
on
fabric
of
the
Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery,
Hobart.
4”
nails
pierce
eyelets
to
hold
173
kitchen
tools.
 This
piece
emerged
from
reading
that
my
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
ancestors
required
only
twenty‐two
tools
which
comprised
their
en;re
subsistence
toolkit.
 Historical
wri;ng
regarded
this
informa;on
as
evidence
of
the
primi;ve
evolu;onary
level
of
my
people.
Today
the
west
chooses
to
recognise

that
this
 reveals
a
deliberate
aZtude
that
less‐is‐more‐than
enough
–
a
sign
of
balance
and
equilibrium
with
one’s
environment.
I
decided
to
focus
on
one
ins;tu;on
 which
presents
such
knowledge
and
today
re‐presents
correc;ons‐of‐former‐percep;ons
about
such
data
‐
the
TMAG
(Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery).
 I
have
covered
the
image
of
the
Museum
with
173
tools
because
I
see
them
and
the
act
of
their
repe;;on
as
represen;ng
both
my
overwhelming
 compulsion
to
ascertain
what
is
happening
within
historical
depic;ons,
and
to
show

my
recogni;on
that
I
have
lost
the
ability
to
survive
with
a
minimal
 toolkit
–perhaps

par;ally
due
to
my
quest
for
understanding….
    • 
Julie
Gough
 My
tools
today,
1997
 147
kitchen
tools
on
nails
through
eyelets
on
inkjet
print
on
fabric
of
Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery
c.1974
 220
x
360

x
12
cm
 Exhibited
Adelaide
Biennale
1998
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Pogography
2000

‐
The
Sub‐dividing
Games
(Tools
for
land
degrada@on
vs
tools
for
land
reclama@on),
1997
 garden
tools,
pogo
s;ck,
flag,
pillows,
acrylic
paints
 variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • The
Trouble
with
Rolf,
1996
 The
art
work
“The
Trouble
with
Rolf”
developed
from
the
4th
verse
of
the
popular
song
“Tie
me
kangaroo
down,
sport”
by
Rolf
Harris,
1966:
 “Let
me
Abo’s
go
loose,
Lew,
let
me
Abo’s
go
loose....They’re
of
no
further
use,
Lew,
so
let
me
Abo’s
go
loose,
Altogether
now...”
.

 I
represented
one
meaning
behind
the
words
by
introducing
rural‐elements

of
plaster
cast
Aboriginal
stockmen
‘heads’
in
a


 musical
nota;on
forma;on
spelling‐out'
the
'fencing‐in
or
out'
that
has
been
enforced
onto
many
'outback'
Aboriginal
people.
 The
4th
verse
probably
refers
to
the
‘freeing’
of
Aboriginal
stockmen/musterers
during
the
mid
1960s
when
the
Equal
Wages
Bill

 was
passed
in
Australia.
Previously,
Aboriginal
workers
were
paid
a
pikance
or
with
food/tobacco
ra;ons.
 This
legisla;on
resulted
in
thousands
of
rural
Aboriginal
people
facing
unemployment
and
being
forced
off
their
tradi;onal
lands
 
(where
they
had
omen
managed
to
con;nue
living
due
to
white
‘landowners’
allowing
them
to
work
on
these
proper;es)

 This
forced
reloca;on
led
to
large
numbers
of
Aboriginal
people
living
as
displaced
persons
on
the
outskirts
of
townships,
where

many

 remain
to
the
present‐day.
 The
song
Tie
me
Kangaroo
Down,
Sport
is
a
troublesome
lyrical
arrangement
because
each
verse
except
for
the
Fourth
has
Australian

 Fauna
as
its
focus
‐
Kangaroos,
koalas,
platypus',
etc.

However,
the
fourth
verse
includes
Aborigines
as
part
of
the
'wildlife'
of
the
Australian
landscape,

 and
then
even
goes
so
far
as
to
suggest
that
they
can
be
'let
loose'
‐
released
at
the
whim
of
a
stockman/bushman
‐
inferring
that
Aboriginal
people
are

 under
the
control
of
others.
 Yet
this
song
is
of
it’s
own
;me,
as
was
Rolf
in
the
mid
1960s.
This
song
is
supposedly
the
last
words
of
a
dying
stockman,
and
in
reques;ng

 that
‘his’
Abo’s
be
let
loose
as
one
dying
wish,
Rolf
cannot
be
en;rely
cas;gated,
as
he
is
proposing
a
pseudo
freedom
for
the
‘cap;ves’.
 My
aim
in
u;lising
a
'found'
song
and
'found'
Aboriginalia
(kitsch
plaster
wall
ornament
of
an
Aboriginal
stockman)
which
I
then
reproduced
in

 mul;ple,
is
to
reclaim
representa;ons
of
Aboriginal
people
for
ourselves.
 I
believe
that
the
only
way
to
work
with
imagery,
text,
inferences
that
are
'out
there'
already
performing
their
intended
roles
in
society,

 
is
to
claim
these
forms
of
representa;on
for
ourselves,
and
reuse
them
subversively.I
then
redirect
their
power
to
damage
and
undermine,

 into
new
performa;ve
roles

which
can
ques;on
the
past
and
redefine
our
understanding
of
our
Country's
past,
present
and
poten;al
future.
 Interes;ngly,
Rolf
has
changed
this
fourth
verse
in
recent
sheet‐music
reprints
of
this
song,
and
he
no
longer
sings
the
fourth
verse
as

 it
was
originally
intended
either.
The
trouble
is,
that
like
Eeny
meeny
miny
mo...
music
and
verse
are
one
of
the
most
pervasive
ways
to

 enter
into
the
popular
unconscious,
and
it
will
be
some
;me
before
those
familiar
with
the
song
can
replace
the
original
version
with
the
new.
 I
sense
that
Rolf
was
reflec;ng
his
;mes,
and
a
majority
of
non‐Aboriginal
Australians
mind‐frame
in
the
mid‐six;es,
and
have
made
this
work
 
in
an
effort
to
remember
this
fraught
story.

    • Julie
Gough
 TheTrouble
with
Rolf,
1996
 Wood,
plaster,
wire,
acrylic
medium,
vinyl
 ≈
240
x
400
cm
 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Addi;onally,
this
work
can
only
allow
for
the
residuals
of
the
inhabitants
to
exist,
in
keeping
with
the
found
objects
and
what
of
the
pacific
found
its
way
to
the
‘old’
 world
‐
the
shell
necklaces
produced
for
the
tourist
market,(There
are
about
70
shell
necklaces
from
the
Pacific
suspended
below
the

triptych

pain;ngs
like
a
skirt,
 they
hang
out
from
the
wall
and
cast
a
great
shadow
(I
am
par;cularly
interested
in
shadows).
I
collected
them
over
about
2
years
in
op
shops
and
markets
in

 Hobart,
and
also
found

a
few
in
op
shops
in
Victoria.
The
floral
dresses
are
also
a
means
by
which
physical
evidence

of

Other

culture’
are
transferred
back
to
 Western
suburbia
to
inhabit
a
space
with
the
tv
and
encyclopaedia.

The
western
encyclopaedia
also
misrepresents
the
same
informa;on
about
Culture
and
 loca;onal
authen;city
that
is
transmiked
to
and
through


'ownership'
of
these
souvenir
items.(See
:
xii
‐
in
Susan
Stewart
1984

On
Longing

The
souvenir
seeks
 distance
(the
exo;c
in
;me
and
space),

but
it
does
so
in
order
to
transform
and
collapse
distance
into
proximity
to,
or
approxima;on
with,
the
self.

 The
souvenir
therefore
contracts
the
world
in
order
to
expand
the
personal.
I
concur
with
what
Susan
Stewart
states
about
Souvenirs
and
unreality

I
have
applied
 these
no;ons
in
the
crea;on
of
this
work.
The
souvenir
is
omen
akached
to
loca;ons
and
experiences
that
are
not
for
sale
‐
thus,

I
(and
Cook's
own
ar;sts
and
 collectors,
and
his
own
collec;on)
can
only
suggest
the
lack
of
the
real
experience,
the
souvenir
(not
the
plundered
'real'
artefacts)
exist
to
reveal
the
point
of

 separa;on
of

the
tourist
from
real
'u;lised'
objects.
p136
 The
installa;on
in
its
en;rety
is
ques;oning
truths
and
fic;ons
historical
accounts
and
remnant
ac;vi;es
that
surrep;;ously
invade
the
present
as

suspect
and
omen
 racist
colonialist
beliefs
and
ac;vi;es.
A
paramount
theme
in
this
work
is
the
central
presence
of
the
1970
Phone
Book
standing

trial
as
indica;ve
of
a
Na;onal
and
 United
Complicity

with
Captain
Cook’s
invasion
and
subsequent
terra
nullius
policies.


    • Opera@on
aloha
!
Magnum
as
Cook
in
the
@me/space
con@nuum,
1997

 The
installa;on
Opera6on
aloha
!
Magnum
as
Cook
in
the
6me/space
con6nuum,
1997
comprises
a
range
of
found
and
made
objects
 This
installa;on

work
commenced
with
the
‘discovery’
of
the
found‐and‐signed
pain;ng
of
Magnum
PI
(The
Hawaiian‐based
Detec;ve
from
the
1980s

TV
series)
at
 Glenorchy
market,
Hobart
for
$5.00.
My
contribu;ng
other
two
pain;ngs
‘copy’
the
scenic
surrounds
of
the
‘original’
image.

However,
within
the
space
which
 Magnum’s
form
inhabits
in
the
original,
I
have
painted
the
shark
from
the
movie
“Jaws”
rising‐up
to
devour
Magnum,

and,
in
the
final
representa;on
Pacific
 Islanders
paddle‐out
to
greet
(?)
Magnum
‐
of
which
he
is
oblivious.
(See
:
Fredric
Jameson




Signature
of
the
visible

1990
NY
Routledge
p26‐27
and
Slavoj
Zizek
in
 October
journal
Grimaces
of
the
real”).
Slavoj
Zizek
speaks
at
length
about

what
the
shark
in
Jaws
represents
‐
he
quotes
Jameson’s
idea
that
the
shark
in
the
film
 represents
the
threat
of
the
Third
World
!!.

 The
photo‐study
of
my
family
in
1970
‐
mirrors
the
triptych
pain;ng
of
Magnum
PI
on
the
adjacent
wall.
This
work
is
framed

by
seafaring
curtains
at
either
side
 instead
of
the
floral
dresses
surrounding
Magnum.
Beneath
us
are
three
shelves.

Two
photographs
have
coral
lamps
beneath
them,on
these
shelves
whilst
centred
 beneath
us
in
a
biblical
tome‐like
manner
is
the

1970
Melbourne
Captain
Cook

Bicentenary
Telephone
Book.
We
are
contained/captured
and
therefore
exist
within
 the
framework
of
this

iden;ficatory
and
locatory
device.I
regard
this
text
with
this
cover
as
a
fine
example
of
colonialist
propaganda.
 
In
the
space
between
Magnum
and
the
Pacifica
elements
is
a
‘confessional
corner’
‐
a
curtained‐off
area
in
which
one
can
contemplate
the

 ‘explora;on’
and
‘possession’
of
the
‘new’
world.
There
are
two
plates
hung
in
this
in;mate
space
‐
One
an
'authen;c'
Wedgwood
commemora;ng

Makhew
 Flinders
with
his
portrait
,
and
vessel
and
birth
and
death
dates,
the
other
a
plain
'white'
ceramic
plate
I
had
decalled
with
a
1940s
Children’s
Annual
illustra;on
 depic;ng
two

Bri;sh
schoolchildren
in
a
tropical
hut
asking
a
‘na;ve’
woman
:
“Luluna,
why
are
your
people
so
sullen

and

antagonis;c
all
of
a
sudden
?”
‐
This
 image
opi;mises
the
usual
misunderstanding
of
the
traveller
and
explorer
for
the
customs
and
culture
of

other
people.
Hence
Captain
Cook’s
own
demise.

 I
painted
a

shark
as
a
key
element
of
the
Magnum
PI
triptych
work
without
consciously

thinking
too
heavily
on
poten;al
readings
of
sharkness.
 I
am
sugges;ng
that
through
Magnum,
TV
viewers
(i.e.
a
sizeable
world‐wide
audience)
last
decade
received
most
of
their
cultural
knowledge
of

Hawaii

and
the
 Pacific,
and
that
Similarly,
Captain
Cook
performed
the
same
role
of
cultural
purveyor
and
distor;onist
two
centuries
ago.

Magnum‐as‐Cook
in
this
instance
is
a
 blockage
‘over’
the
landscape,
in
a
sense
removing,
by
omniscient
omikance,
the
true
visuals
of
the
actual
inhabitants.My
representa;on
of
the
alterna;ve
viewing
 of
this
“space
within
the
frame”
has
been
kept
within
the
dubious
kitsch
tone
of
the
original
‐
thus,
the
reduc;on
in
size
and
therefore
order
of
‘cast’
actually
follows
 the
conceptual
vision
of
the
original
untraced
ar;st
who
placed
Magnum
at
the
forefront,
therefore
controlling
the
‘bias’
of
the
piece.
In
working
within
this
‘vision’
 my
sarcas;c‐humour
is
treading
a
fine‐line
from
appearing
to
support

what
I
intend
to
ques;on.
 Con6nues…

    • Julie
Gough
 Magnum
as
Cook
in
the
Time/Space
con@nuum,
1997
(detail)

 mixed
media,
variable
dimensions
 collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Magnum
as
Cook
in
the
Time/Space
con@nuum,
1997
(detail)

 mixed
media,
variable
dimensions

 Collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 Magnum
as
Cook
in
the
Time/Space
con@nuum,
1997
 mixed
media,
variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
the
ar;st


Exhibited
Boomalli
Aboriginal
Ar;sts
Co‐opera;ve,
Sydney,
1997

    • 
Julie Gough Folklore, 1997 Vintage curtains, Tasmanian oak light box showing image of diorama in Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery, Hobart 190 x 300 x 15 cm Collection the artist

    • The
work
Folklore
is
a
large
Tasmanian
oak
light
box
containing
an
duratrans
plas;c
film
inkjet
image
enlargement
of
old
 postcard
of
a
diorama
s;ll
existent
in
the
Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery.

 Framing
the
light
box
are
a
pair
of
1950s
curtains
depic;ng
gnomes
in
their
habitat.
This
is
a
brief
art
statement
about
 this
bizarre
diorama
that
presents
such
a
construc;on/fabrica;on
that
it
is
folklore.
The
diorama
is
literally
construc;ng
 the
myth
that
the
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
family
sits
around
a
solitary
campfire.
This
is

neither
past
nor
present
truth.

 Addi;onally,
these
people
are
based
on
Truganini
and
Wourredy,
who
are
today
not
known
to
have
had
a
child
together.
 This
diorama
has
invented
its
own
;me
and
place.
The
people
depicted
were
not
from
the
Hobart
region
painted
behind
 them,
and
post
1803
and
post
white
arrival

dogs
were
incorporated
into
Aboriginal
Tasmanian's
life,
one
tribe
in
the
 north
east
had
100
dogs
!
Thus,
if
the
diorama
is
depic;ng
what
White
memory
recalls,
then
the
deliberate
omikance
of
 a
or
several
dogs
is
another
fic;on
or
folklore.
 People
were
together
in
extended
families,
with
varying
types
of
lean‐to
shelters,
or
no
shelter,
near
middens
and
daily
 waste
materials
and
not
tenta;vely
standing
alone
watching
the
museum
visitor
count
the
three
last
heads.
The
curtains
 with
present
european
gnome
husband
and
gnome
wife
in
a
spooky
orange
glowing
forest
seZng
with
red
toadstools.
 They
are
the
Other
of
Folklore
‐
which
the
Tasmanian
Aborigines
had
also
been
deemed
and
doomed
to
represent
once
 Truganini
died.
This
death
sentence,
this
one
liner,
that
this
diorama
portrays
was
a
means
to
eliminate
the
un;dy
second
 coming
of
our
people
via
our
ancestors
later
borne
from
sealers
and
whalers
and
from
stolen
children
‘brought
up’
in
 white
homes.
Fixed
in
a
supposedly
authen;c
gnome
or
unblemished
'real'
Tasmanian
landscape,
voiceless,
the
gnomes
 and
the
Aborigines
uncomfortably
'play‐off'
each
other
and
their
iden;cal
cast
roles.
In
conjunc;on
I
hope
they

flicker
 and
shudder,
that
they
don't
sit
s;ll
and
quiet,
but
now
are
alive
to
really
show
the
fairytale
inten;ons
of
their
makers,
 not
the
s;ll
and
silent

eternal
'oneness'
with
synthe;c
landscapes,
partners,
children,
lives,
lies
they
are
bearing.

    • Julie
Gough
 Shadow
of
the
spear,
1997
(details)
 Ti‐tree,
slip
cast
ceramic
swan
eggs,
pyrographically
inscribed
 Tasmanian
oak
strips
 variable
dimensions
 Acquired
Art
Gallery
of
Western
Australia

    • Julie
Gough
 Shadow
of
the
Spear,
1996
 Ti‐ee,
slip
cast
ceramic
eggs,
hand
burnt
text
into
Tasmanian
oak.
 Variable
dimensions
 This
project’s
central
argument
is
as
follows:
 George
 Augustus
 Robinson's
 account
 relates
 a
 hugely
 significant
 moment
 in
 Tasmanian,
 Australian,
 and
 my
 own
 family's
 history.
 George
 Augustus
Robinson
recorded
the
incident
when
he
promised
a
future
that
he
could
not
possibly
render
in
reality.
This
was
a
desperate
lie
to
a
 people
equally
desperate
to
believe
in
their
own
survival.

 Years
later,
Mannalargenna
cut
off
his
hair
aboard
ship
north
of
Swan
Island,
probably
as
an
act
of
grieving
when
he
finally
lost
all
hope.
He
 died
of
pneumonia
shortly
amerwards
on
December
4,
1835
on
Flinders
Island
‐
one
month
amer
Robinson
had
transported
him
to
Wybalenna
 from
mainland
Tasmania
and
four
years
amer
he
had
first
met
and
begun
travelling
with
Robinson
on
his
‘Friendly
Mission’.

 The
quoted
passage
leapt
from
page
394
of
1073
pages
of
incessant
details
of
meals
and
climate
which
swamped
and
served
to
render
this
 occurrence
less
dis;nct
in
the
body
of
words
which
had
consumed
and
subsumed
it.
 This
 account
 was
 made
 personally
 potent
 by
 ;me
 spent
 in
 the
 far
 north
 east
 of
 Tasmania
 during
 the
 genesis
 of
 the
 work
 which
 became
 Shadow
of
the
Spear
(1997).
I
witnessed
across
the
sea
the
same
islands
as
did
the
people
in
the
story
seven
genera;ons
ago.
Mannalargenna
 is
my
great
great
great
great
grandfather.
 The
power
of
the
physical
presence
of
the
site,
and
the
overlapping
seams
of
history
connec;ng
then
and
now,
became
apparent
to
me
when
 at
the
loca;on.
I
realised
that
a
material
conjunc;on
between
past
and
present
can
provide
the
dialogue
and
means
for
a
story,
apparently
set
 within
a
closed‐book,
to
be
reconsidered
within
a
visual

art‐prac;ce.

 As
a
consequence,
I
made
the
materials
described
in
the
journal
and
placed
them
alongside
the
words
from
that
;me.
They
work
together
to
 speak
of
my
awareness
of
the
incomplete
transac;on,
and
they
express
the
chance
for
a
resolu;on
to
take
place
when
memory
is
reac;vated.


    • 6th August, 1831, Opposite Swan Island, north east Tasmania. This morning I developed my plans to the chief Mannalargenna and explained to him the benevolent views of the government towards himself and people. He cordially acquiesced and expressed his entire approbation of the salutary measure, and promised his utmost aid and assistance. I informed him in the presence of Kickerterpoller that I was commissioned by the Governor to inform them that, if the natives would desist from their wonted outrages upon the whites, they would be allowed to remain in their respective districts and would have flour, tea and sugar, clothes &c given them; that a good white man would dwell with them who would take care of them and would not allow any bad white man to shoot them, and he would go about the bush like myself and they then could hunt. He was much delighted. The chief and the other natives went to hunt kangaroo: returned with some swan's eggs which the chief presented me as a present from himself - this was an instance of gratitude seldom met with from the whites. Robinson, G.A., Friendly Mission: The Tasmanian Journals and Papers (of) George Augustus Robinson, 1829 - 1834, ed. N.J.B. Plomley, Tasmanian Historical Research Society, Hobart, 1966. Text
above
placed
on
six

poker‐worked
Tasmanian
Oak
slats

 within
the
shadows
of
the
spears

    • Julie
Gough
 Shadow
of
the
spear,
1997
 Ti‐tree,
slip
cast
ceramic
swan
eggs,
pyrographically
inscribed
Tasmanian
oak
strips
 variable
dimensions
 Acquired
Art
Gallery
of
Western
Australia

    • Julie
Gough
 Ebb
Tide
(The
whispering
sands)
1998
(detail)
 16
pyrographically
inscribed
lifesize
ply
figures
of
Bri;sh
people
who
collected
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people
and
cultural
 material
placed

in
;dal
flat
at
Eaglehawk
Neck,
Southern
Tasmania
 variable
dimensions
 collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 The
whispering
sands
(Ebb
Tide),
1998
 This
installa;on
comprises
sixteen
lifesize
portraits
pyrographically
(hand‐burnt)
onto
5mm
plywood.
These
are
Bri;sh
individuals
who
historically
and
 subsequently
impacted
on
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people.
These
figures
were
placed
in
the
;dal
flats
at
Eaglehawk
Neck,
Southern
Tasmania
during
November
 1998
in
the
“Sculpture
by
the
Sea”
Exhibi;on.
 These
people
were
collectors;
they
accumulated
material
culture,
stories,
human
remains,
anthropological/medical
informa;on
and
even
Aboriginal
children
in
 the
names
of
science,
educa;on,
history,
anthropology
and
the
increase
of
their
own
personal
status
and
power.
 I
decided
(as
an
exercise
and
par;ally
an
exorcism)
to
collect
these
people
themselves
(as
images)
and
reduce
them
to
a
nameless
conglomerate
mass
just
as
 they
had
enacted
on
Aboriginal
Tasmanians
last
century.

 Placed
in
the
;dal
flats
for
two
weeks
late
in
1998,
these
figures
submerged
and
re‐emerged
with
the
ac;on
of
the
;des,
the
;de
enac;ng
the
posi;on
of
 memory.

Placed
as
though
they
were
wading
into
shore,
they
operated
as
a
form
of
mnemonic
trigger.

Their
emergence
from
the
water
suggested
that
their
 presence
and
deeds
rests
s;ll
within
our
own
memories.
 This
work
was
a
response
to
awakening
ideas
about
our
co‐residency
with
the
past,
and
to
ques;ons
arising
about
our
avoidance
and
consignment
of
the
past
 to
a
peripheral
dimension
called
'history'.
    • Julie
Gough
 Ebb
Tide
(The
whispering
sands)
1998
(detail)
 16
pyrographically
inscribed
lifesize
ply
figures
of
Bri;sh
people
who
collected
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people
and
cultural
 material
placed

in
;dal
flat
at
Eaglehawk
Neck,
Southern
Tasmania
 variable
dimensions
 collec;on
the
ar;st

    • Julie
Gough
 HOME
sweet
HOME,
1999,
pins,
cokon,
;mber,
soap,
variable
dimensions
 Exhibited
at
the
Liverpool
Biennial
of
Contemporary
Art,
England.
23rd
September
‐
7th
November,
1999.
 This
work
eventuated
as
a
response
to
my
visit
to
Liverpool
in
May
1999.
 When
the
former
Bluecoat
Hospital
was
suggested
as
a
site
for
a
work
I
began
walking
around
Liverpool
no;cing
references
to
the
great
wealth
upon
which
 this
city
was
founded;
the
movement
of
people
and
materials
–
slavery,
migra;on
and
trade.
 I
ini;ally
became
engrossed
in
researching
the
transporta;on
of
people
to
Australia
–
convicts
and
the
forced
migra;on
of
children.
However,
I
found
myself
 drawn,
somewhat
unexpectedly,
to
the
children
in
the
Bluecoat
Hospital
(orphanage)
who
stayed
behind.
 The
Liverpool
Archives
holds
diverse
references
to
the
Bluecoat
Hospital,
and
also
to
the
Ragged
Schools
and
the
Kirkdale
House
of
Correc;on
last
century
in
 this
city.
Brief
tantalising
glimpses
into
a
short
life
of
hard
work.
 Children
in
the
Ragged
School
in
Soho
Street,
Liverpool
“sorted
senna
and
pig
bristles”
whilst
children
in
the
Bluecoat
late
last
century
“made
pins”….
 The
orphan
boys
in
the
Bluecoat
Hospital
were
expected
to
set
sail
on
the
Slave
ships
and
Traders
which
were
run
by
several
of
the
Bluecoat
Board
and
 Benefactors
early
last
century.
Girls
were
trained
to
be
domes;c
servants,
if
they
defied
this
expecta;on
they
weren’t
provided
street
clothes
to
leave
the
 premises.
 In
wandering
the
city,
I
stood
searching
the
cityscape
from
the
top
of
the
Liverpool
Anglican
Cathedral
and
saw
the
cemetery
below.
I
walked
down
through
 the
stone‐tunnelled
entrance
into
the
underworld‐like
quarry

burial‐ground
of
selected
inhabitants
of
the
city
last
century.
Stone
amer
stone
inscribed
with
 the
names
of
Ship
Captain’s
and
their
ships,
of
dearly
beloved
and
departed
young
children
eulogised
in
terms
of
permanent
angelic
sleep.
 In
the
midst
of
repe;;ve
no;ons
of
love
and
family
I
was
stopped
hard
in
my
tracks
by
the
sight
of
six
stones
in
a
row,
damp
and
nekle
fringed
they
 unemo;onally
named‐as‐lists
one
hundred
and
twenty‐two
dead
children
from
four
Liverpool
Orphanages:
The
Bluecoat
Hospital,
The
Liverpool
Infant
 Orphan
Asylum,
The
Liverpool
Female
Orphan
Asylum,
The
Liverpool
Boy’s
Orphan
Asylum.
 I
felt
that
these
stones
were
the
answer
,
the
reason
for
my
extended
walks
in
and
around
the
city.
I
imagined
them
immediately
as
som
pillows,
as
 makresses,
as
a
comfort
that
they
never
had
in
reality.
I
returned
to
the
headstones
shortly
amer
with
a
huge
bundle
of
cokon
fabric
and
a
large
graphite
 rock
from
the
Liverpool
Museum
to
rub
and
transfer
the
Bluecoat
children
to
their
former
site,
and
the
other
children
to
a
similar
Orphanage
site
to
which
 they
had
also
experienced.
This
ac;vity
occurred
over
six
wet
and
windy
days
–
with
accompanying
unexpected
vital
mee;ngs
with
cemetery
locals
and
 visitors.
 At
this
point
I
decided
that
soap
should
also
be
an
element
within
the
work.
I
had
been
to
Port
Sunlight
and
seen
the
influence
of
Lever
on
the
region,
and
 the
unacknowledged
origin
of
palm
oil
as
a
major
item
within
the
cargo
of
Slave
ships,
and
this
connec;on
with
Bluecoat
(yet
again).


 Lavender
scented
soap
mix
u;lising
Lever
LUX
and
lavender
oil
was
applied
to
the
base
of
the
pillar
in
this
installa;on.
This
represents
both
the
lack
of
 mother
and
home
comforts
in
these
children’s
lives,
and

visually
expresses
the
metaphorical
bar
of
soap
upon
which
this
building’s
founda;on
and
 framework
was
based.
 Upon
my
return
to
Hobart,
Tasmania
in
late
May
I
constructed
small
“beds”
for
these
pillow/makresses;
the
size
of
the
actual
tombstones.
My
mother,
 myself
and
three
obsessively
compulsive
women
worked
con;nuously
over
two
moths
to
complete
the
intensive
pin‐work
required.

I
believed
that
these
 names
must
be
filled‐in
with
pins
–
pin
cushions
within
only
the
pin‐heads
visible
as
an
act
of
recogni;on
and
remembrance
of
these
children’s
short
lives;
 the
dots
as
a
form
of
punctua;on
–
as
full‐stops.
 Making
this
work
seemed
to
be
an
appropriately
similar
ac;vity
to
the
endlessly
repe;;ve
work
which
the
children’s
;ny
hands
endured
as
pin‐makers,
and
 as
such
perhaps
a
fiZng
acknowledgment.
 I
ini;ally
wondered,
as
one
local
Liverpool
man,
Ian,
ques;oned

“If
people
will
search
for
and
recognise
their
own
surnames?”

But
things
were
even
closer
 to
home
than
that
–
visitor’s
to
the
room
began
speaking
the
names
of
the
children
aloud
as
they
read
the
pillows,
invoking
their
presence
and
return
to
the
 very
site
where
their
names
had
been
the
everyday
over
100
years
ago.
They
filled
the
gap
of
;me
with
voice.
Seventy
kilograms
of
pins
later,
and
with
 enough
stuffing
for
90
regular
pillows
–
the
work
was
en
site,
the
children
were
brought
back
in
from
the
cold
to
the
Home
that
wasn’t
so
sweet
for
them…

    • Julie
Gough
 HOME
sweet
HOME,
1999
(Commissioned
installa;on,
Liverpool
Biennial
“TRACE”
UK)
(detail)
 graphite
rubbing
on
cokon,
pins,
;mber
 variable
dimensions

    • Julie
Gough
 HOME
sweet
HOME,
1999
(Commissioned
installa;on,
Liverpool
Biennial
“TRACE”
UK)
 graphite
rubbing
on
cokon,
pins,
;mber
 variable
dimensionsa

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Driving
Black
Home,
2000,
16
postcards
of
Black,
nigger,
Na;ve
places
around
Tasmanian
encountered
during
an
1200km
drive
around
Tasmania
in
2000,
16
(10
x
 15cm)
postcards
commercially
printed
from
my
personal
photographs
x
100
set.
 There
are
fimy‐six
places
names
amer

Black
people
in
Tasmania,
they
include
:

 Black
Mary’s
Hill,
Black
George’s
Marsh,
Blackmans
Lookout,
Black
Tommy’s
Hill,
Blackfellows
Crossing,
Black

Phils
Point….
There
are
seventy
nine
“Black”
places
in
 Tasmania,
they
include
:

 Black
Beach,
Black
Creek,
Black
Gully,
Black
Marsh,
Black
Pinnacle,
Black
Reef,
Black
Sugarloaf,
Black
Swamp….
 There
is
one
Abo
Creek
in
Tasmania.
There
are
three
places
named
“Nigger”
in
Tasmania:

Nigger
Head,
Niggerhead
Rock
and
Niggers
Flat.
There
are
sixteen
places
 named
for
“Na;ves”
in
Tasmania,
they
include
:

 Na;ve
Hut
Creek,
Na;ve
Lass
Lagoon,
Na;ve
Track
Tier,
Na;ve
Plains….
 These
are
one
hundred
and
fimy
four
places.

But
really
they
become
one
big
place,
the
en;re
island,
Tasmania.
This
is
a
journey
of
mapping
and
joZng
the
 intersec;ons
which
make
up
this
place’s
story
and
history.

 I
see
this
big
ongoing
journey
as
an
act
of
remembering
.
It
is
also
my
way
of
considering
and
disclosing
the
irony
that
although
our
original
Indigenous
place
names
 were
all
but
erased
from
their
original
sites;
Europeans
then
consistently
went
about
reinscribing
our
ancestors’
presence
on
the
land.

I
propose
that
these
 ‘seklers’
recognised
the
rights
of
occupancy

of
Aboriginal
Tasmanians’
‐
evidenced
by
their
renaming
of
‘natural’
features
across
the
en;re
island
in
the
image
of

 Black,
Na;ve,
Nigger
and
Abo….
 The
concep;on
of
this
artwork
directly
relates
to
my
previous
employment
within
Parks
and
Wildlife,
Tasmania
as
an
Indigenous
Interpreta;on
Officer.
In
this
 posi;on
I
have
had
the
opportunity
to
see
more
places
and
meet
more
people
than
ever
before.
I
have
also
been
reading
much
more
than
between
the
pages
of
 history

or
science
or
old
school
books
–
which
were
the
texts
that
formerly
inspired
much
of
my
artprac;ce.

 This
postcard/photographic
series
has
emerged
from
reading
the
land
and
those
interven;ons
with
the
land
that
have
stood
outside
largely
unques;oned
–
Signs.
 Signs
in
more
ways
than
one,
these
are
markers
to
ways
of
seeing
and
labelling
place
in
the
past
that
have
unavoidably
intersected
with
my
present.

 These
Signs
have
demanded
that
I
take
note
and
collect
them
in
this
way.
Much
of
my
work
is
about
collec;ng,
compiling
and
reconfiguring
objects
of
culture.

I
 need
to
gather,
shuffle
and
prod
objects
about.

My
process
is
to
find
the
point
of
unease
–
where
familiarity
counters
a
general
discomfort
and
leaves
the
work
 hovering
between
uncertain
worlds.

In
my

prac;ce,
I
assemble
a
certain
number
of
objects,
a
par;cular
grouping,
an
almost
normal
delivery
–
but
not

quite
 …….so
that
the
apprehension
and
comprehension
of
my
work
isn’t
always
immediate
but
requires
a
pace
of
reading
that
is,
in
itself,
linked
to
my
own
growing
 awareness
whilst
I
created
the
work.
 There
are
resonances
of
other
things
driving
this
series
–
my
own
early
disloca;on
from
Tasmania.
I
was
born
and
‘grew
up’
in
St
Kilda
–
in
another
state
 en;rely….In
‘returning’
to
the
land

and
this
island
in
this
way,
I
see
things
afresh,
askew
and
seemingly
unques;onned.
These
are
Signs
which
seem
to
be
 something
else
and
which
I
want
to
address.

Late
in
1998,
I
made
my
own
“people
signs”
–
I
collected
sixteen
‘colonials’
whilst
I
was
living
in
London.
Britons
who
 had
collected
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people
and
objects
of
culture
in
some
way.

 I
pyrographically
inscribed
lifesize
images
of
these
people
into
plywood
and
placed
these
figures
in
a
simulated
seascape.

They
were
assembled
indoors
in
London
 with
the
sounds,
colours
and
super
eight
footage
of
the
ocean.
A
film
loop
revealed
me
throwing
bokles
with
messages
into
the
English
sea
‐
notes
which
asked
 that
Objects
of
Culture
be
returned
to
their
original
na;ons
and
peoples…

Just
days
before
this
exhibi;on
opened
I
was
asked
if
I
wanted
to
par;cipate
in
a
site‐ specific
outdoor
exhibi;on
in
Tasmania.


This
was
fate,
for
that

was
where
the
work
needed
to
be
to
complete
its
own
journey.

I
posted
these
wooden
‘portraits’
 to
Tasmania,
and
followed
them
home.
Titled
“The
Whispering
Sands
(Ebb
Tide)”
and
placed
on
stakes
in
the
Tidal
Flats
at
Eaglehawk
Neck,
Tasman
Peninsula,
they
 were
revealed
and
concealed
by
the
ac;ons
of
the
;des.

Some;mes
completely
hidden
and
other
;mes
exposed
down
to
the
sands,
their
metal
post
structures
 defined
these
as
“people
signs”.
These
figures
became
memory
personified

as
their
relentless
presence/absence
reflected
the
ongoing,
covert
effects
their
ac;ons
 have
had
on
our
culture.

In
this
series
“Driving
Black
Home”,

I
haven’t
had
to
do
anything
but
be
there

‐

and
record
the
real….and
recognise
that
truth
is
stranger
 than
fic;on…

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
(detail)
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets
 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Driving
Black
Home,
2001
 14
postcards,
each
10
x
15
cm
 100
boxed
sets

 Exhibited
Pacific
Biennale,
Noumea,
2001
and
Art
Gallery
of
NSW,
2002

    • Julie
Gough
 Stand,
2001
 ;‐tree,
lamp,
wood,
rope
 8
x
8
x
8
m
 Tea
Tree
room
constructed
on
and
installed
on
a
hill
adjacent
to
the
Midlands
Highway
on
Lovely
Banks
farm
during
the
inaugural
10
Days
 on
the
Island
Fes;val
2001.
This
tea
tree
room
had
a
lamp
perpetually
lit
for
the
en;re
10
days
and
10
nights
of
the
Fes;val
in
vigil/memory
 of
the
original
Aboriginal
inhabitants
of
that
country
and
to
what
that
hill
has
‘seen’
over
;me.

    • Julie Gough Stand, 2001 (detail) Ti-tree, gas lamp 8 x 8 x 7 ft Installation for ten days and ten nights on a hill on Midlands Highway, Lovely Banks, Tasmania containing ever lit lamp.

    • Julie
Gough
 Leeawuleena,
2001
 Lake
drimwood
and
eucalypt

branch
 Variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
of
the
Na;onal
Gallery
of
Victoria

    • Leeawuleena,
2001
 Lake
drimwood
and
eucalpyt
wood
 Variable
dimensions
 This
work
was
created
between
two
places.
Leeawuleena
(Lake
St
Clair)
in
Central
Tasmania
and
Eddystone
 Point,
North
East
Tasmania.
This
work
is
the
result
of
staying
at
Leeawuleena
in
Central
Tasmania
with
three
 Tasmanian
Aboriginal
ar;sts
who
were
crea;ng
fibre
artwork
during
their
residency
program
at
the
lake.
I
 was
drawn
to
the
Lake
shore
and
was
most
astonished
by
the
water’s
ac;on
of
constantly
washing
up,
 cas;ng
out,
these
forms
that
strongly
resembled
the
heads
of
ancient
birds.
Birds
have
always
followed
me,
 and
seem
to
speak
to
me
in
unexpected
loca;ons.
I
gathered
these
silent,
bonelike
twigs
and
put
a
head
to
 each
body.
Several
were
collected
whole
needing
no
Frankensteinian
aken;ons
of
matching
head
with
 body.
They
became
enlivened
and
surrounded
the
hut’s
verandah
wall
where
we
stayed,
they
created
 shadow
and
watched
us.
It
seemed
they
came
through
;me,
through
the
waters
and
decisions
of
the
lake
to
 wash
them
to
near
where
we
stayed.
Something
of
the
essence
of
how
things
were
beyond
my
hands
and
 yet
came
into
my
hands
is
the
mystery
or
language
of
this
work.
 I
have
placed
them
walking
or
marching
up
a
gum
tree
branch
in
procession
as
that
is
how
they
seemed
to
 arrive
into
my
peripheral
vision
as
I
walked
the
lake
shore.
They
now
march
up
and
almost
out
of
a
gallery
 space,
the
log
holds
them
in
wax
filled
cavi;es,
wax
which
dripped
like
bird
droppings.
These
creature’s
 movement

from
floor
to
wall
is
sugges;ve
of
a
further
place,
a
world
beneath
the
floor
and
amer
the
wall
–
 from
where
they
emanate
from
and
may
disappear
to.
I
do
not
think
they
are
of
this
;me,
this
world,
but
 manifesta;ons
of
another
that
briefly
spoke
to
me.
    • Time
Capsules
(biGer
pills),
2001
 Rocks,
cuklefish
bone
 This
work
came
about
in
a
natural
almost
effortless
way
that
felt
like
a
gim.
I
was
siZng
on
the
beach
near
Eddystone
lighthouse
and
 picked
up
a
piece
of
cuklefish
bone
and
had
a
urge
to
carve
it.
I
found
my
pocket
knife
and
returned
to
the
beach
and
there
on
the
spot
 began
making
small
pills
in
capsule
form.
There
was
no

reason
for
making
these
forms,
they
just
star;ng
being
made
in
a
rapid
 succession
un;l
I
had
a
large
handful.
It
occurred
to
me
what
I
was
making
at
that
point
was
anything
that
could
take
me
further
into
 being
of
that
place.
The
;tle
came
immediately
also
at
that
point,
Time
Capsules
(biker
pills),
because
I
had
been
musing
and
making
 other
works
about
transpor;ng
myself
back
in
;me
to
the
same
place
hundreds
of
years
ago.

I
immediately
called
them
biker
pills,
 because
I
don’t
think
that
I
would
have
survived
long
or
enjoyed
what
I
found.
    • Julie Gough Time capsules (bitter pills), 2001 carved cuttlefish, stones, 15 x 8 x 7 cm Private collection

    • Night
Sky
Journey,
2001
 Rocks,
bull
kelp
 Variable
dimensions

 Night
sky
journey
is
one
artwork
consis;ng
of

two
elements
–
rocks
and
kelp.
Their
materials
are
as

 crucial
as
the
;mber
which
forms
the
work
“Leeawuleena”.

 Rocks
have
always
fascinated
me,
I
first
took
this
interest
into
further
studies
and
completed
an
archaeology
degree,
but
that
wasn’t
what
I
was
looking
for
 and
I
found
myself
eventually
making
art.

 When
I
see
an
outcrop
or
a
single
sharp‐edged
stone
I
become
excited
with
thoughts
of
tools
and
their
ac;vi;es.
When
I
see
roadworks
I
stop
because
 there
is
the
promise
of
fresh
sharp
stones
emerging
into
day
for
the
first
;me,
ready
for
me
to
use
without
damaging
exis;ng
Aboriginal
tools
or
quarry
 sites.

A
fresh
slate
within
a
history

laden
with
material
culture
and
heritage
to
rework
and
reconsider
through
art.
 So,
on
a
hill
in
the
middle
of
2001
on
a
highway
in
central
Tasmania
I
stopped
with
some
sacks
and
collected
large
lumps
of
fantas;cally
sharp
basalt‐like
 rock
thrown
out
of
a
hillside
by
dozers
widening
the
road.
I
knew
that
they
would
become
this
work
“Night
sky
journey”.
I
wanted
to
make
a
rock‐climbing‐ wall
of
pseudo
ar;facts,
stone
that
had
been
reworked,
newly
edged,
changed

of
surface
to
carry
this
story
of
new
ways
to
carry
culture
into
the
future.
A
 traveling
story,
a
mapping
of
journey
about
;me
and
inner
space
rather
than
a
real
locality.
The
embrace
of
the
old
within
the
new
is
what
I
was
trying
to
 consider
within
this
work.
 I
saw
that
climbing
was
an
important
metaphor
for
travels
from
past
into
present
and
into
future
in
all
the
works
in
the
exhibi;on
”Heartland”
at
Gallery
 Gabrielle
Pizzi
in
September
2001.
Strings
of
shells
ascend
upwards,
climbing
ropes
offer
another
escape,
the
twig
like
creatures
of
“Leeawuleena”
move
 steadily
up
their
;mber
escape
route,
even
the
cuklefish
tablets
“Time
Capsules”
promise
an
escape
from
this
world.
 All
the
works
were
about
Journeys
with
different
materials
to
speak
of
;me
and
transforma;on
of
objects
into
art
and
merging
of
history,
myth,
memory.
 The
use
of
many
raw
natural
elements
in
this
exhibi;on
–
kelp,
shell,
string,
wood,
;mber,
rocks
–
was
my
way
of
reducing
things
to
original
ingredients,
 substance,
maker
from
which
we
came
and
will
return.
 I
took
the
rocks
to
the
coast

in
North
East
Tasmania,
Tebrikunna,
and
worked
with
the
stones
day
amer
day.
Reverbera;ons,
they
sang
as
they
hit
each
 other
and
cast
flakes
across
the
sandy
grass
upon
which
I
worked.
Slowly
this
artwork
took
form.
I
saw
individuals
‐
big
and
small
rocks
emerge.
I
saw
 which
way
they
would
go
on
the
wall,
I
saw
that
this
would
be
a
night
sky,
a
constella;on.
As
I
lay
there
in
the
north
by
dark
I
looked
up
at
the
night
sky
 and
reflected
about
its
changes
through
;me,
about
how
now
a
satellite
punctuates
my
thoughts
more
omen
than
a
falling
star
did
for
my
people
in
the
 past.
I
thought
about
how
we
were
created
from
the
stars,
the
Moinee
ancestral
crea;on
story
of
our
people,
and
in
this
way
the
work
felt
right
for
me
to
 con;nue
making.
I
also
thought
about
tools
and
toolkits
and
how
it
was
to
use
the
materials
of
tradi;onal
culture
to
be
my
tools
of
storytelling
today,
and
I
 liked
the
fluidity
and
con;nuity
of
that.

 I
wondered
about
what
the
Old
People
would
think
of
my
use
of
good
stone
to
just
be
looked
at
rather
than
cuZng,
cleaning,
scraping,
hacking
at
trees
to
 provide
notches
to
climb
amer
possums,
or
edging
wooden
s;cks
to
make
chisels
for
levering
shell
fish
off
rocks.
What
folly
they
would
surely
say
!
I
walked
 the
sea
shore
by
morning,
I
took
limpets
off
rocks
to
eat
and
collected
the
right
kelp
to
make
the
shoes.
I
made
the
shoes
by
the
fire
at
night,
where
I
then
 hung
them
filled
with
tea
tree
bark
so
they
wouldn’t
shrink
too
much
and
dry
malformed.
These
shoes
are
the
story
of
my
trying
to
find
my
way
in
the
 night
and
day
of
my
mind,
my
inner
self,
today.
Wan;ng
to
live
up
to
myself,
my
ancestry,
my
poten;al,
trying
to
respect
the
past
and
yet
find
my
own
way
 out
of
it
into
the
unknown
future.
I
feel
that
working
by
hand
so
intensively
with
plants,
rocks,
shells,
kelp,
wood
has
given
me
much
more
inner
strength
 and
understanding
of
my
own
people
than
any
other
work
I
have
made.
I
am
very
glad
something
directed
me
to
create
this
way
at
this
;me.

    • Julie
Gough
 Night
sky
joumey,
2001
(detail)
 knapped
rocks,
kelp
climbing
shoes
 variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
of
the
Na;onal
Gallery
of
Victoria

    • Julie
Gough
 Night
sky
joumey,
2001
 knapped
rocks,
kelp
climbing
shoes
 variable
dimensions
 Collec;on
of
the
Na;onal
Gallery
of
Victoria

    • Julie Gough Chase, 2001 Ti-tree sticks, jute, cotton, steel Approx. 300 x 240 x 300 cm Site specific installation commissioned for nineteenth century gallery in National Gallery of Victoria. Installed October 2002 - July 2004 Collection of the National Gallery of Victoria

    • The
work
“Imperial
Leather”
1995
addresses
no;ons
of:
Imperialism,
cleanliness/cleansing,
whitening,
placement,
loss
of
 self,
iden;ty,
policies
of
rendering
indis;nct.
 The
;tle
is
sugges;ve
of
the
soap‐brand
name
and
associa;ve
connota;ons
of
familiarity
due
to
the
current
availability
of
 the
product
(one
premise
of
the
piece
includes
its
immediacy)
and
the
;tle
also
conveys
no;ons
of
‘imperial’
invasion
 alongside
‘leather’
which
suggests
whipping,
punishment
and
control.
 The
'heads'
are
wax,
cast
from
an
original
aluminium
'posi;ve'
of
the
kitsch
plaster
'Aboriginal
boy'
'head'
commonly
 suspended
in
Australian
lounge
room
walls
in
the
1950s.
 The
layout
of
mathema;cal
regularity
in
the
piece
speaks
of
order,
control
and
containment
over
Aboriginal
people
as
 represented
on
the
panel.
Power
is
held
by
those
whose
flag
is
the
control
mechanism.
The
cross‐mo;f
also
resembles
a
 target,
whilst
the
hanging
and
pinning
aspect
relates
to
the
explora;on
and
labelling
of
the
‘new’
worlds
and
their
flora
and
 fauna.
 The

sense
of
order
and
obsessiveness
through
repe;;on
in
this
work
represents
western

fear
of
the
Other
and
the
 Unknown
which
the
Bri;sh

carried
with
their
flag
to
Australia.
This
fear
was
channelled
into
state
and
federal
control
 mechanisms

through
displacement
of
Indigenous
peoples
into
state
or
church‐operated

“Homes”
without
families,
when
 many
of
the
Bri;sh
newcomers
had
arrived
without
their
own
families.
Removal
and
re‐organisa;on
was
part
of

a
ongoing

 goal
imposed
on
Indigenous
Australians
‐
which
was
for
Aboriginal
people
to
lose
their
original
iden;;es,
to
be
whitewashed,
 and
thus
subsequently
embrace
Imperial/Colonial
iden;ty
or
the
“flag”.

    • Julie Gough Imperial Leather, 1994 Cotton, wax, masonite 149 x 204 x 15 cm Collection of the National Gallery of Victoria

    • Chase
Created
September
2001,
Installed
NGV
Australia
October
2002
‐
July
2004
 “Chase”
is
about
terror,
flight,
this
is
the
unspoken
space
and
place
called
Australia.
Terror
Nullius.
Nothing
is
there
but
everything
feared.
This
is
what
we
inhabit
 in
the
night,
the
pause,
the
gap
between
then
and
tomorrow.This
work
is
a
story
of
the
unfinished
business
between
black
and
white
Australia.I
wanted
to
make
 something

simple
in
materiality
to
cast
the
one
dimensional
nature
of
addressed,
ins;tu;onal
history
out
from
the
protec;on
of
the
gallery
walls.
I
wished
to
 allow
something
that
is
quietly,
intangibly,
ever‐present
in
this
‘na;on’
to
take
form.
This
work
is
an
akempt
to
convey
the
pervasive
knowledge
of
a
wrongly
 commenced
na;onal
story
that
cannot
be
rewriken
‐
one
that
is

beyond
spoken
or
wriken
language,
but
exists
as
gripping,

knowing
feeling.
 In
presen;ng
a
work
as
a
commentary
between
the
1901
Federa;on
pain;ng
E.Phillips‐Fox
“The
Landing
of
Captain
Cook”
and
the
1994
work
“Imperial
Leather”
 I
felt
there
was
only
the
space
between
them,
that
silent
space
we
all
interminably
inhabit
in
which
to
work.
I
don’t
believe
that
Australia
has
lem
behind
the
two
 aforemen;oned
stories
but
is
s;ll
enmeshed
in
their
dialogues
of
invasion,
control
and
silencings.
“Chase”
is
a
visual
reminder
of
what
we
want
to
forget
but
 haven’t
faced
it
in
order
to
lay
it
to
rest:
our
collec;ve,
overlapping
pasts
and
complici;es.

 Ongoing
because
we
don’t
perhaps
have
the
language
to
deal
with
it.
 In
this
installa;on
I
reference
several
visual
elements
from
both
the
1901
and
1994
works
from
which
I
have
created
this
new
work:
These
elements
include:
 ‐
The
colour
red
in
the
flag
of
Cook’s
landing
and
the
coat
of
those
in
command
taking
aim
to
shoot
at
the
Aborigines,
and
the
red
fabric
toweling
of
“Imperial
 Leather”.
 ‐
Mul;ple
objects
as
in
the
wax
heads
aligned
across
the
surface
of
the
Bri;sh
blood
red
Flag,
and
the
hands
of
the
Europeans
in
the
pain;ng,
also
the
weaponry
 of
the
guns
and
spears.
 ‐
Suspension
in
the
forms
of
the
hanging
wax
heads
and
also
in
the
idea
of
suspension
implying
wai;ng
and
unfinished
trauma.
 ‐
The
no;on
of
the
Ver;cal
which
is
contained
within
the
aligned
rows
of
wax
heads
in
“Imperial
Leather”and
in
the
various
posi;ons
of
the
rifles
and
spears,
the
 oars
and
masts
of
the
boats
and
the
figures
and
flag‐s;ck
in
the
Fox
work.
 From
these
visual
triggers
I
decided
to
create
my
version
of
the
psychological
space
this
country
inhabits.
This
took

form
as
a
tense,
;ght
tea‐tree
forest.
The
 kind
of
forest
that
is
dark
and
damp,
leech
ridden
and
easy
to
be
lost
within.

 This
is
a
suspended
space,
eery,
floa;ng
in
no‐;me
between
the
1901
and
1994
works.
This
work
is
intended
to
be
a
kind
of
emana;on,
aura
or
psychic
force
 between
them.
My
visualiza;on
of
a
place
that
has
not
been
nego;ated
successfully
and
so
remains
our
haunted
house,
our
outdoors
and
indoors,
our
 everywhere.
The
forest

hangs,
string
suspending
each
s;ck
with
a
noose
knot.
Mul;ple
s;cks
as
the
mul;ple
heads
in
“Imperial
Leather”
and
the
mul;ple
 spears
and
rifles
in
Fox’s
pain;ng.
The
view
from
either
side
of
“Chase”
transforms
and
modifies
the
visibility,
the
percep;on,
the
reading
of
both
“Imperial
 Leather”
or
“The
Landing
of
Captain
Cook”.
I
make
the

space,
the
world
between
them
uncannily
visible.
 The
story
is
that
within
the
forest
is
the
trace
of
a
pursuit.
Torn
Scraps
of
cokon
flagging
and
red
toweling
held
within
its
grasp
bear
testament
to
a
struggle
 within
this
space,
a
flight
of
passage
took
place
and
took
parts,
pieces
of
both
works
into
this
otherworldly
configura;on.
Traces
of
Captain
Cook’s
party
and
of
 the
Imperial
Leather
Bri;sh
Flag
which
holds
the
suspended
heads
of
Aboriginal
Boy
ornaments
flicker
within
the
tea‐tree,
the
forest
has
borne
witness
to
the
 start
of
where
we
are
today.
The
fabrics
are
held
firm
through
;me,
we
are
s;ll
enmeshed
in
the
grasp
of
this
narra;ve.

 Whilst
Cook
is
clearly
sleep‐walking
across
Fox’s
canvas,
his
hand
outstretched
his
face
avoiding
the
Aborigines
awai;ng
the
landing
party,
I
suggest
that
the
 reality
is
that

a
pursuit
came
next,
the
chronology
of
reading
from
lem
to
right
shows
that
the
Aborigines
cannot
be
evaded,
they
are
the
last
thing
awai;ng
to
 be
encountered
and
yet
this
cannot
happen
within
the
frame
which
Fox
allowed
Cook
in
his
work.
That
story
‐
the
result
of
Cook’s
landing,
the
result
of
European
 arrivals
determined
to
find
a
terra
nullius
is
carefully
avoided
by
Fox
and
offered
by
“Chase”
–
this
is
not
“Chased”
but
an
ongoing
tension
and
presence
in
this
 country.

    • Julie
Gough
 Transmuta@on,
2003
(BYU
Utah
USA

site
specific
installa;on)

 Pillows,
hair,
laser
print
transfers,
bark,
motor,
ekg
reading
monitor,
dvd
recording,bed,
cokon
 Variable
dimensions

    • Julie
Gough
 TransmutaIon



 Brigham
Young
University
Museum
of
Art,
Provo,
Utah
 Sept
2003
‐
April
2004
 A
disturbing
combina;on
of
materials
and
spa;al
rela;onships
are
the
means
by
which
I
generated
an
unsekled
atmospheric
space.
Transmuta;on
was
a
large
 installa;on
that
simultaneously
evoked
sensa;ons
of
familiarity
and
uncertainty.



 I
am
interested
in
exploring
liminal
(in‐between)
sites
in
my
work.
Spaces
that
may
be
actual
(eg:
corridors,
airports,
carports,
shorelines,
spaces
of
travel/ transporta;on)
or
imagined
(eg:
myth,
folktale,
memory,
dreams,
filmic,
television,
hypno;c
spaces).

 Transmuta;on
hovered
in
materiality
and
meaning
between
science,
the
inexplicable
‐
and
home‐handicram.

Physically,
the
work
consisted
of
33
pillows
(the
size
 of
air
plane
passenger
pillows).
Each

pillow
was
made
of
white
cokon
(ex.
Royal
Hobart
Hospital
sheets)
with
postcard

images
of
Utah
desert
places
and
Utah
 insects
digitally
printed
(faded‐out)
on
one
surface
of
each
pillow.

 These
pillows
had
real
and
fake
human
hair
fringing
on
each
side.
These
pillows
were
suspended
with
white
cokon
threading
on
each
corner
to
rise
from
just
above
 floor
level
to
a
height
of
approx.
1/4
distance
from
the
ceiling
to
visually
present
as
three
staircases
of
a
tripod
structure.
Each
‘staircase’
consisted
of
11
pillows.

 These
flights
of
‘steps’
triangularly
opposed
each
other,
to
meet
at
a
spherical
space
(gap)
of
approx.
3
feet
at
the
top.

As
aforemen;oned,
these
pillows
suggested
 a
staircased
‘tripod’.
 A
spotlight
shone
down
from
/near
the
ceiling
and

directed
a
beam
of
very
bright
light
through
the
space
where
the
pillows
hovered
above
a
spotlit
area
of
 approximately
one
metre
space
on
the
floor.
This
light
illuminated
an
approximately
25cm
length
golden
‘cocoon’,
which
was
‘trembling’
(due
to
a
concealed
 electrical
device
fiked
inside
the
‘cocoon’
and
under
the

flooring)

in
the
centre
of
the
light
beam
and
within
the
pillow
tripod
legs.
A
blue
and
a
red
electrical
wire
 (not
‘live’)
was
alligator‐clipped
to
either
end
of
this
cocoon
and
these
led
across
to
two
old
fashioned
medical‐looking
monitors
siZng
side
by
side
upon
a
medical‐ looking
(Stainless
steel)
stand/trolley
on
wheels.
One
monitor
depicted
an
irregular
EKG
heartbeat
reading.
The
other
monitor
will
show
a
video
(repeated)
of
the
 following
footage:
(1)
slightly
fuzzy
b/w
(40
seconds)
footage
of
someone
(me)
running
toward
then
dar;ng
away
from
the
camera
in
a
lightly
forested
zone
in
 riverside
Melbourne
wearing
a
pillowcase
over
my
head.
This
footage
will
then
cut
to

(2)
me
lying
on
the
forest
floor
with
my
hair
emerging
through
;ny
holes
in
 the
pillowcase
(15
seconds),
then

 (3)
fuzzy
tv
waves

(8
seconds),
then
(4)
b/w
dead‐screen
(15
seconds)
then
back
to
(1).
 Adjacent
to
these
monitors
stood
a
hospital
bed‐trolley
with
one
stainless
steel
side‐arm
in
the
down
posi;on.
This
‘bed’
held
a
makress
and
white
crinkled
sheets
 and
a
‘strange’
altered
pillow
(altera;on
s;ll
to
be
determined)
‐

all
appearing
as
though
someone/something
has
just
got
off
the
trolley…Near
this
trolley,
one
wall
 was
held
transfixed
by
a
spot‐lit
;ny
sec;on
of
lacy
curtain
lacy
is
struck
solid

–
as
if
caught
in
a
gust
of
wind
from
an
alterna;ve
universe.

 This
work

represented

surrealist,
forensic,
futuris;c
and
also
domes;c
spaces.
It
offered
an
uncomfortable
unifica;on
of
the
personal
and
the
cultural,
the
medical
 and
the
media
worlds.
The
work
intended
to
suggest
that
other
realms
of
being
and
understanding
coexist
on
this
planet.

This
was
not
intended
to
be
an
‘obvious’
 work
–
its
meaning
was
intended
to
drim
and
be
completely
different
and
‘completed’
differently
(ie:
“understood”
differently)
by
each
viewer.

 Themes
that
I
am
interested
in
that
I
am
obliquely

referring
to
in
this
work
include:
 *
Iden;ty
as
perceived
by:

science
and
science
fic;on,
DNA,
medical
and
psychological
tes;ng.
 *
the
world
of
dreams
vs.
reality:
what
is
the
conscious
and
subconscious
?
 *
fear
of
difference,
change
and
personal
growth
 *
the
role
of
the
familiar
and
the
unfamiliar
in
shaping
who
were
are
 *
the
unexpected:
confron;ng
a
space
of
uncertainty
 *
natural
and
simulated
worlds
 *
places
of
encounter
‐
and
hence
the
space
of
witness
narra;ve
in
crea;ng
personal
truths/stories/futures
 *
the
Alien
and
the
UFO
in
popular
culture
 *
Absence
and
presence
–
traces
and
presences
beyond
the
everyday
 *
The
Amerlife,
rest,
sleep,
sleepwalking,
other
dimensions

    • Julie
Gough
 Transmuta@on,
2003
(BYU
Utah
USA
commissioned
site
specific
installa;on)
(detail)
 pillows,
hair,
laser
print
transfers,
bark,
motor,
ekg
reading
monitor,
dvd
recording,bed,
cokon
 variable
dimensions

    • Julie
Gough
 Transmuta@on,
2003
(BYU
Utah
USA
commissioned
site
specific
installa;on)
(detail)
 pillows,
hair,
laser
print
transfers,
bark,
motor,
ekg
reading
monitor,
dvd
recording,bed,
cokon
 variable
dimensions

    • Julie
Gough
 Transmuta@on,
2003
(BYU
Utah
USA
commissioned
site

 specific
installa;on)
(detail)
pillows,
hair,
laser
print
transfers,

 bark,
motor,
ekg
reading
monitor,
dvd
recording,bed,
cokon
 variable
dimensions

    • Julie
Gough
 TransmutaIon,
2003
(BYU
Utah
USA
commissioned
site
specific
installa;on)
(detail)
 pillows,
hair,
laser
print
transfers,
bark,
motor,
ekg
reading
monitor,
dvd
recording,bed,
cokon
 variable
dimensions

    • Julie Gough Promissory Note ~ Opposite Swan Island, 2005 Tea-tree, timber, string, fur 229 h x 240 w x 130 d cm Flinders University Collection, Adelaide

    • Promissory note – opposite Swan Island as with Shadow of the Spear takes that same moment and day of a promise later seen to be empty and reworks things present of the place and transaction into visual art : Tea tree, time, memory, light and dark, words burnt into memory and string that binds. My understanding is that Tasmanian Aboriginal people on that day were promised that if they put down their weapons, here taken to mean spears, they would, in return, be able to live and hunt freely in their country ever more. Robinson is making explicit his, and by extension as an employed representative of the British Government, the Official understanding that Tasmanian Aboriginal people clearly recognised and held ownership and rights to their own country. They laid their spears down in surrender as a clear response to this and other such 'promises' in order to regain responsibility for and free movements across their respective lands. In Promissory note – opposite Swan Island tea tree sticks activate story and place from the past into a pointed formation reminiscent of a light. They metaphorically track movement through time of countless unlit firesticks. Awaiting re-ignition these bare bones of traditional means of warmth, light, meals shared and stories told have been essentially extinguished over the past 200 years through the actions of European invasion. The tea tree sticks also resemble a glowing ball of artificial light that emanates today from Swan Island lighthouse. Built in 1842 some years after the events I am referring to, its light powerfully cuts into the dark of the night across my north eastern coastal country today and for me ties past and present together as it sears the skies. The stick of symbolic light is placed geographically in the work at the point on the silhouette of Swan Island where the lighthouse is located in actuality. The tea tree sticks also take the form of a dandelion, symbolically blown by some cultures to make wish come true, as I today often do in reflection of this promise and how it could have been and never was. The winds and the plants and the rocks still hold secrets and lies told to and by people, the loneliness and windswept beauty of my sleeping country is in barren form in this work about the loss in remembering what no longer is. Julie Gough 13 February 2005 Ref 1: Robinson, G.A., Friendly Mission: The Tasmanian Journals and Papers (of) George Augustus Robinson, 1829 - 1834, ed. N.J.B. Plomley, Tasmanian Historical Research Society, Hobart, 1966. Ref 2: Julie Gough, Shadow of the Spear, 1997. Six ti-tree spears, six slip-cast ceramic swans’ eggs, six rows of pyrographically (hand burnt) copperplate text on Tasmanian oak slats placed in the six shadows cast by the spears leaning on the wall. Dimensions 6 x 6 ft, acquired by the Art Gallery of Western Australia.
    • In 1994 I first made note of those words found on page 394 of 1073 pages in the 1966 mammoth transcription by N.J.B. Plomley of George Augustus Robinson’s journal. In 1996 my first artwork clearly based on the incomplete transaction, our unfinished business : Shadow of the Spear was completed. The words from this diary extract sang strong when I visited the area of that verbal and inscribed promise six generations later to realise that looking across to Swan Island brought much personal anguish about losses and absences. Standing there, alone at that place, also brought vivid clarity about the importance of remembering what has gone before. I realised during the making of Shadow of the Spear that I had a path and task set; that of translating into inviting and approachable visual art forms the written and subsumed histories of cultural invasion, collision and trauma that has plagued Tasmania, Australia and Indigenous peoples everywhere. Four years after Robinson made that promise Mannarlargenna was exiled from his homeland to Flinders Island in Bass Strait - where most Tasmanian Aboriginal people were shipped who survived the first 30 years of invasion. On the journey across, after stopping at Swan Island, Mannarlargenna held a telescope and studied his country with great intent as it grew ever smaller. Mooring next at Green Island Mannarlargenna cut off all his hair, symbolic of great loss. Mannarlargenna died on Flinders Island one month later from what was medically diagnosed as pneumonia. continues…
    • Artist’s Statement: Julie Gough, 2005 Promissory note – opposite Swan Island Tea tree, timber, string, possum fur 229 h x 240 w x 130 d cm Opposite Swan Island on the north east corner of Tasmania on 6th August 1831 at least one of my ancestors was made a crucial promise by an envoy of the Government that has not been kept… we are waiting… George Augustus Robinson 6th August 1831: This morning I developed my plans to the chief Mannalargenna and explained to him the benevolent views of the government towards himself and people. He cordially acquiesced and expressed his entire approbation of the salutary measure, and promised his utmost aid and assistance. I informed him in the presence of Kickerterpoller that I was commissioned by the Governor to inform them that, if the natives would desist from their wonted outrages upon the whites, they would be allowed to remain in their respective districts and would have flour, tea and sugar, clothes &c given them; that a good white man would dwell with them who would take care of them and would not allow any bad white man to shoot them, and he would go about the bush like myself and they then could hunt. He was much delighted. The chief and the other natives went to hunt kangaroo: returned with some swan's eggs which the chief presented me as a present from himself - this was an instance of gratitude seldom met with from the whites. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
continues…

    • Regeneration, 2005 Local alluvial quartz Approx. 25 x 1.5 metres Exhibited at: Ware and Tear Andrea and Peter Hylands, Henry St, Chewton Alluvial Goldfields Victoria http://www.andreahylands.com 2 April - 5 May 2005 and ongoing
    • Julie Gough Transmitting Device, 2005 Lomandra longifolia, limpets 40 x 25 x 25 cm Private collection

    • Julie Gough Lifebearer, 2005 Beach found pumice, brass wire, driftwood 100 x 60 x 34 cm Collection of National Gallery of Victoria

    • "Some
commentary
about
the
necklace
works:
Drib,
Seam,
Lifebearer
and
Rab
and
Transmicng
Device
 in
my
solo
exhibi@on:
Inter@dal
at
Gallery
Gabrielle
Pizzi


10
May
–
4
June
2005”
 Julie
Gough
May
2005
 I
like
to
think
about
what
it
means
for
me
to
make


necklaces
that
are
bigger‐than‐me;

that
are
not
necessarily
beau;ful
 and
not
clearly
necklaces
either
...
I
ask
is
the
tradi;onal
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
shell
necklace
today


a
carefully
 maintained
sign
of
cultural
con;nuity,
connec;vity,
authen;city
and
authority
and
if
so
is
this

different
to
what
it


represented
200
 years
+
ago

?
‐
my
answer
is
that
I
can't

know
what
it
once
was
and
provided

outside
of
my
own
;me
and
perspec;ve.
My
use
of
 macro
[and
maybe
future
micro
scale
works]
are
about
that
naviga;on
of
myself
in
my
work
=
 physically
challenging
myself,
my
arms,
my
liming,
my
body
‐
around
tradi;onal
prac;ce,
place,
materiality
and
cultural
 expecta;on
of
what
something
is
used
for/is
supposed
to
"DO".
 These
floa;ng
medium
necklace
forms
work
for
me
as
life
Preservers
ie:
opera;ng
perhaps
as
memory
retainers

for
 people
on
the
edge
(the
peripheral
me
‐
the
whole
inters;;al
'bit')
.

The
wood
and
the
pumice
necklaces
‐
"drim"
and
"lifebearer”
 seem
very
much
to
me
about
returning
home
(to
Tasmania)
some;me.
They
are
my
evidence
to
me
that
I
have
an
emergency
means
‐
 a
facility
‐
to
make
a
cram
to
bring
me
home
in
the
form
of
a
necklace

‐
a
magical
necklace.

I
feel
I
can
(in
my
mind's
eye)


walk
into
 Townsville
beach
with
these
wrapped
around
me
and
float
into
the
sea
and
wash
up
back
in
North
East
Tasmania.

 I
feel
that
when
I
am
collec;ng
these
materials
‐
that
if
I
lose
almost
everything
of
myself

‐
even
the
possibility
 of
asking
for
help
to
return
,
If
I
cannot
ar;culate
my
need
in
cogent
language
to
explain
my
need
to
return
‐
that
I
could
s;ll,
if
I
can
 stay
near
a
beach
‐
make
the
means
of
my
return
–
these
necklaces
or
a
ram...

My
sense
is
that
if
I
drowned
with
these
around
me
it
 would
be
in
the
arms
of
the
sea
and
the
maker
of
all
necklaces
and
would
be
peaceful.
I
was
rescued
off
a
rock
I
was
stranded
on
off
 Rodrigues
Island
in
2002
‐
amer
near
drowning
‐
I
so
nearly
drowned
‐
was
embraced
by
the
dark,
warm
drim
downwards
‐
that
I
don't
 fear
or
ques;on
the
sea's
ability
to
decide
when
 to
take
someone.
 The
pumice
necklace
has
come
out
of
land
into
fire
(volcano)
and
into
water
[sea]
to
float
back
to
land
and
be
built
into
a
 floa;ng
land
‐
a
kind
of
island
‐
that
could
take
me
away.
The
coal
necklace
(SEAM)
is
also
a
bit
elemental
in
material
‐
 there
is
a
lot
of
coal
mined
up
in
QLD
‐
but
I
am
unsure
where
this
coal
[
covered
with
barnacles
and
other
sea
life

]
has
 come
from.
I
found
it
up
here
north
of
Townsville
at
lowest
;de
like
black
spots
that
seem/seam
at
first
to
be
a
mirage
 of
poor
vision
(black
spot)
yet
announce
a
possibility
of
home
and
hearth
to
me
‐
they
are
a
source
of
warmth
from
fire
and
in
the
 water
they
are
the
fires;ck
doused
and
"OUT"
‐
I
collect
them
and
think
about
how
my
ancestor's
fires;cks
have
 not
yet
been
en;rely
relit
from
flicker
to
full
flame
by
us,
their
descendants.
 
 
continues…
    • I
feel
afraid
to
light
my
coal
necklace
at
this
point
in
my
life,
I
am
unsure
of
the
spirits
of
the
dark
and
night
that
I
would
 have
to
encounter
to
be
able
to
walk
properly
and
cross
into
the
two
worlds
that
I
have
trained
myself
to
;ghtrope
 'between'.
The
coal
necklace
‐
the
seam
‐
is
like
the
weighty
lifeblood
of
ancestry
‐
the
coal
black
materiality
of
the
 earth
that
I
haven't
answered

nor
perhaps
recognised
the
call.
The
coal
coming
to
me
from
the
sea
is
a
bit
like
a
 reminder
to
face
the
land
and
remember

responsibility
to
all
sides
of
self
‐
land
and
waters.
 The
necklace‐like
works
operate
as
my
imaginings
of
how
to
merge
and
move
myself
around
(kind
of
like
with
;me
and
;de)

back
to
 from
where

I
come.

The
necklaces
are

elemental
ways
of
re‐joining
myself
back
to
tradi;ons
that
seem
lost
in
their
recognisable
 popularised
makings
in
my
immediate
family.

The
necklace
and
mul;ple
object
in
my
art
forms
(over
a
decade)
ar;culate
my
 connec;on
to
a
culture
that
did
collect
(and
s;ll
does
collect)
to
survive.
Through
repe;;on
and

rhythm
and
staccato
in
my
work
a
 language
of
understanding
place
and
being‐ness
is
ar;culated
and
presented
to
outsiders.

In
this
way
I
offer
viewers

a
way
into

 forms
such
as
necklaces

‐
and
materials
provided
by
nature
impact
on
me,
seem
to
urge
me
to
spell
out
myself
through
them.
 The
TransmiJng
Device
represents,

for
me,


a
means
of
sending
my
thoughts
back
to
my
people/the
old
people
and
homeland
and
 also
it
is
by
extension
a
Receiving
Device
for
hearing
back
from
home.
It
is
an
apparatus
of
travel/communica;on
through
;me
and
 place
‐
whether
actual
or
providing
for
me
the
security
of
imagining
possible
what
this
device
promises
to


achieve
‐
see
website
 (hkp://homes.jcu.edu.au/~jc156215/)
‐
see
work
"Time
Capsules
(Biker
Pills)"
that
is
a

work
about
the
all
consuming

(literally
in
that
 artwork)
need
to
travel
back
to
;mes
of
old
people
to
feel
what
it
is/was
like
‐
to
be
THERE.

 I
made
Time
Capsules
in
the
Eddystone
Residency
mid
2001
‐

whilst
siZng
on
beach
and
grabbed
a
cuklefish
and
suddenly
carved
a
 pile
of
these
tablets
as
though
in
a
manic
yet
trancelike
state
!
‐
those
pills
evidenced/materialised
this
desire
for
my
impossible
 return
to
past
of
my
imagining
‐
where

I
could
dive
demly
for
abalone,
climb
for
possum,
sing
in
language
that
came
out
of
country
 and
sang
true
‐
unlike
the
tongue
that
I
now
speak
that
I
suspect
would
have
me
killed
by
my
old
people
if
they
didn't
see
I
was
them.

 Word
and
voice
wouldn't
save
me
in
my
current
form/manifesta;on
(out
of
man
–
sealer
Briggs)
‐
only
ac;on
and
evidenced/trace
of
 recognised
behaviour
could
rescue
me
from
swim
death.
RAFT
is
a
ram
‐
I
feel
great
making
things
that
are
about
movements
and
 travel
through
real
and
imagined
TIME/SPACE
back
to
Tasmania
and
to
a
place
in
Tasmania
and
a
community
of
people
there
where
I
 can
be
myself
and
it
would
be
called
home.

 As
an
ar;st
I
am
a
outsider
in
my
own
culture/s
‐
always
looking
in
or
across
at
peoples/places/;mes
and
figuring
 through
art
making
my
responses
to
being
where
I
am
and
how
or
determining
whether
I
wish
to
show
that
place
I
inhabit

='me'
in
 rela;on
to
that
other
place
(mainstream
society)
or
whether
I
rework


cultural
makers
from
my
own
perspec;ve.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

    • Julie Gough Exhibited in: Craft for Floating Home, 2005 Cross Currents Digital photograph on paper Linden - St Kilda Centre for Contemporary Art 80 x 100 cm

 Lola Greeno, Julie Gough, Denise Robinson, Treahna Hamm, Lorraine Northey-Connelly Saturday 2 July - Sunday 7 August 2005
    • Julie Gough Craft for floating home (driftwood, pumice), 2005 Pumice, driftwood, rope, plastic, timber, shells c.40 x 80 x 150 cm (h x w x d)
    • Julie Gough Craft for floating home (coconuts), 2005 Coconuts, driftwood, rope, plastic, timber, shells c.40 x 80 x 150 cm (h x w x d)
    • Julie Gough Craft for floating home (pumice, driftwood, cuttlefish, coconuts), 2005 Coconuts, driftwood, rope, plastic, timber, shells c.40 x 80 x 150 cm (h x w x d)

    • Craft for floating home (driftwood), 2005 Driftwood, rope, plastic, timber, shells c.40 x 80 x 150 cm (h x w x d) Craft for floating home (cuttlefish), 2005 Cuttlefish, driftwood, rope, plastic, timber, shells c.40 x 80 x 150 cm (h x w x d) Craft for floating home (pumice), 2005 Pumice, driftwood, rope, plastic, timber, shells c.40 x 80 x 150 cm (h x w x d) Craft for floating home (coconuts), 2005 Coconuts, driftwood, rope, plastic, timber, shells c.40 x 80 x 150 cm (h x w x d) Craft for floating home (coconuts), 2005 Digital Print ARTIST'S STATEMENT - Julie Gough Craft for floating home are a series of rafts that I have recently made whilst in [self-imposed] exile in Townsville away from my ancestral homeland, specifically from the far north east of Tasmania, Tebrikunna. The place in far north eastern Australia that I find myself now living is coastal, perhaps the extent of its familiarity. Making art is central to my being; as central is the need to carry a physical understanding of an immediate way home from wherever I am in the world. The security of keeping alive the flame of my potential means of return to Tasmania is a meditative preoccupation for me. Making these rafts actual out of the dimension of dream has been a cathartic experience of renewal. These rafts, in the repetitive craft of beach collecting, tying and knotting, take my weight and help me move beyond the everyday. Thinking through why we make things and how they operate in the real and imagined worlds that our origins provide us gives me an elemental pleasure of connectedness. On these rafts I sense movement from where I have been, both in art practice and in a broader cultural sense, toward a quiet space for further formations or transmissions about culture, place, time to emerge. These rafts are voyageable translations of what absence and isolation are and how they enable the traveller to experience anew. Julie Gough June 2005
    • Julie Gough Sleeping Mountain, 2005 
 calico, lighting, pillows, oil aerosol on pillows, timber, string, wax rubbings of tree stumps on paper (exhibited at Perc Tucker Regional Gallery, Townsville in Habitus/Habitat - Great Walks of Queensland, Dec 2005 - Feb 2006
    • Sleeping
Mountain
 The
long
climb
upwards
 oracle

 shroud
 visi;ng
a
place
not
of
my
own
people
 fresh
water
unfamiliarity
 privileged
 the
water
didn’t
claim
me
 looking
for
art
 finding
tree
stumps

 like
wounded
faces
peering
upwards
at
ever
present
firmaments
 wai;ng
for
the
return

 how
is
it
to
be
up
high
 where
;me
differs

 and
not
disturb
it?
 over
there,
behind
me,
peripherally
present

 the
creased
crawl
of
rainforest
growth
 density
 thickens
the
air
 lured
to
stretch
on
the
cool
track
 the
night
skies
welcome

 falling
star
and
fire
fly
 respite
from
glare
of
day

 and
demanded
making
 back
to
campsite
 everything
is
campsite
 clearing,
cleaning,
cooking,
wrapping,
talking
 but
dark
changes
the
route
 glimmer
of
tempest
within
 the
par;cles
of
separa;on
 between
reality
and
possibility
 we
each
have
a
place
 that
is
wai;ng
for
our
return
 Julie
Gough
 
Habitus‐Habitat,
Perc
Tucker
Regional
Gallery,
16
December
2005
‐

5
February
2006


    • Julie Gough Artist statement Sleeping Mountain Habitus-Habitat, Perc Tucker Regional Gallery, 16 December 2005 - 5 February 2006 Visiting sites of history and memory I rework versions of the past from between the lines, seeking voices and direction in a detective-like search for alternative and visual means of representation. I sculpt as my way to retrieve the forgotten or unspoken narratives of this nation, and to invite the viewer to engage with stories and implications perhaps not otherwise voluntarily approached. My art presents unsettledness as a manifestation of a larger, national psychic discontent. Much of my work refers to my own and my family’s experiences as Tasmanian Aboriginal people. A key focus of my practice is uncovering and re-presenting historical stories as part of an ongoing project that questions and re-evaluates the impact of the past on our present lives. The only constant in my life apart from art seems to be my endless sense of movement, somewhat like the tides. Recent works are less about dates and facts and more metaphorically representative of me, now, navigating my reality. A sense of being drawn in different directions, living between and within varied states and places, conveys the mysteries of place, seeming coincidence and the relief and release of locating story and medium in my everyday. In this work Sleeping Mountain, based on a brief stay near Wallaman Falls in far north Queensland, the place permeated my sleep to provide the means for a sculptural story about the site awakening in the night, bearing witness to recent visitors and their activities. I felt privileged to be welcomed to stay, and yet also noted my physical and spiritual disconnection from the language of this country, a not-knowing of this place. Encounters in the dark with mute firefly and falling star best expressed my acute sense of journeying through but not leaving myself on this mountain. My feeling is that there is something ‘other’ through which humans individually mediate the world. Working with this spirit of our presence provides me meaning, reason and a way (art making) to engage with an often detached exteriorised public world. My intention is to investigate and provide new ways to reflect upon, and hence understand, places of time, memory, history and the past within a personal present. Julie Gough November 2005
    • 
 Julie
Gough
 Return,
2006
 Installa;on
at
Friendly
Beaches,
Freycinet
Peninsula,
Ephemeral
Art
at
the
Friendly
Lodge
exhibi;on,
February
2006
    • Julie
Gough
 Navigator,
2006

 Image
of
work
in
progress
 Tamworth
Tex6le
Biennale
2006
‐
touring
2007
 
 mixed
media:
blankets,
shells,
lomandra,
tea
tree
 90
x
240
x
60
cm

 Collec6on
Tamworth
Regional
Gallery
    • 
Julie
Gough
 
Locus,
2006
 
Tasmanian
tea
tree,
cuQlefish
bone,
paper
 
4
x
5
x
5
m
 
 
Biennale
of
Sydney
2006

 
Collec6on
the
ar6st
    • Locus - artist statement, Biennale of Sydney 2006 Locus is constructed from a conglomerate of materials and forms that have shaped me. A forest of tea tree sticks, a roller coaster, a giant slide formation, a mound of cuttlefish. A wave, a midden, a coastline, the sea currents and star systems, the blink of an eye. These elements merge to represent the places and stories that impact on my everyday. The point of juncture, especially between past and present, offers myself practical ways to inculcate and make sense of my childhood, raised besides a noisy amusement park, and of my maternal Indigenous, Trawlwoolway, family ancestry on coastal north eastern Tasmania, amidst tea-tree and she-oak and brilliant night skies. The wooden slide rises up from the thicket, providing impossible entry for the canoe that is fixed in time on its slope. The canoe is me, the slide my life journey, on it I am transfixed at this point in life heading into the tea tree coastal scrub of my past and future Tasmania. I have constructed myself, into this work, on some kind of surreal ride that in turn, has also formed me; my childhood besides St Kilda Luna Park ensured my peculiar sense of humour above all else. Incidents provided by Luna Park have contributed to family lore; causality, including my great grandmother breaking both legs on the wooden slide, bring more sense of sorts to the instinctively accumulated bones of cuttlefish mounting beneath the slide reconstruction. Making physical renditions of how we create ourselves from our own and inherited stories interests me; figuring ways to render distinct sometimes blurred and disassociated personal and public memories is an ongoing process. Regular motifs in my work include a sense of transition, mobility, unease, living between various states and places not locating an end point of closure in any investigation. Materials incorporated are often both ‘natural’ outdoor found objects combined with household domestic goods, in this instance tea tree and shells with blankets and carpets. I am excited to connect often dry texts with intuitive physical responses to revisited places, seasons; aspects of the past re-enlivened, quickened, by sensorial experience.
    • Julie
Gough
 ‘Some
of
our
women
kidnapped
by
sealers’,
2007 
 


 inkjet
print,
edi;on
of
10,
framed
in
Tasmanian
oak
 83
x
118
cm.
1/10
Collec;on
of
the
Queen
Victoria
Museum
and
Art
Gallery,
 Launceston,
Tasmania

    • 
Julie
Gough,
We
ran/I
am.

Journal
of
George
Augustus
Robinson
3
November
1830,
Swan
Island,
North
East
Tasmania
‐
“I
issued
slops
to
all
the
fresh
na@ves,
gave
them
 baubles
and
played
the
flute,
and
rendered
them
as
sa@sfied
as
I
could.
The
people
all
seemed
sa@sfied
at
their
clothes.
Trousers
is
excellent
things
and
confines
their
legs
 so
they
cannot
run”

2007,
calico,
14
photographs
on
paper,
earth
pigments,
c.2.0
x
7.5
x
0.05m.
Photography
by
Craig
Opie;
Map
of
the
Black
Line:
“Military
Opera;ons
 against
the
Aboriginal
Inhabitants
of
Van
Diemen’s
Land:
No.
9
FIELD
PLAN
of
MOVEMENTS
OF
THE
MILITARY”
courtesy
of
the
Tasmaniana
Library,
State
Library
of
Tasmania;
 Trousers
by
#49
CWA
Hobart


    • Julie
Gough
 
we
ran/I
am,
2007
 Ar6st
statement:

 Conjunc;on
plus
disrup;on
of
place
through
;me
produced
this
work
that
connects
past/present
by
the
ac;on
of
 me
running
at
seven
self‐selected
places
from
the
innumerable
sites
where
the
1831
“Black
Line”
–
“Military
 opera;ons
against
the
na;ves
of
Van
Diemen’s
Land”
took
place
across
Tasmania:
Bothwell,
Lake
Sorell,
Campbell
 Town,
Richmond,
Prosser
Bay
Orford,
Waterloo
Point
Swansea
and
St
Patrick’s
Head.
The
“Black
Line”
was
 apparently
unsuccessful
in
that
only
a
purported
two
Aboriginal
people
were
captured.
However,
the
result
of
the
 campaign
alongside
the
preceding
thirty
years
of
akempted
eradica;on
of
my
ancestors
have
resulted
in
the
 vagaries
of
myself
and
extended
family.
Distrus…ul
of
any
one
version
of
the
past
‐
par;cularly
published
accounts
 from
other
cultures,
survival
has
come
from
an
ability
to
swerve
or
demly
accommodate
change;
mobilisa;on
 prevented
capture
or
erasure
of
iden;ty.
Humour,
double
entendre
and
codified
meanings
are
everyday
means
of
 interac;ng
with
the
world,
finding
those
like
minded,
like
cultured
to
make
meaning
afresh.
In
running
at
these
 places,
an
overlay
was
akempted
whereby
various
historical
captures
and
escapes
was
replayed
and
reprocessed.
 Robinson’s
wrenching
journal
entry
brought
the
media
and
momentum
of
the
work
‐
the
running,
the
trousers.
 Issued
to
Aboriginal
people
in
the
early
1800s
the
clothing
is
a
visual
reminder
of
the
removal
of
people
from
their
 environment.
Wearing
the
seven
trousers
and
embedding
them
with
the
earths
of
those
places
they
are
joint
 witnesses
to
my
present
and
our
past
experiences
of
trying
to
live
in
our
Country
post
invasion.
Current
 frustra;ons
with
tourism
and
eco‐expansion
across
north‐east
Tasmania
encouraged
me
to
present
current
 emo;ons
of
feeling
compressed
into
ever
;nier
‘land
parcels’.
The
stress
of
hiding
in
dunes
to
avoid
daily
eco‐ tourists
in
summer
on
Tradi;onal
Country
is
the
shadow
Other
piece
within
this
work.
The
revised
run,
part
 performa;ve,
was
reclama;on
of
place,
reabsorp;on
of
history
on
the
run.
Heavy
breathing
and
aching
muscles
 made
me
feel
more
alive
than
ever.
 Julie
Gough
would
also
like
to
thank
Salamanca
Arts
Centre;
Australia
Council
for
the
Arts;
James
Cook
University
 Townsville
and
the
Tasmaniana
Library,
State
Library
of
Tasmania
for
making
possible
the
realisa;on
of
this
work.

    • 
Julie
Gough
 
Force
field,
2007
 
dead
apple
tree,
bricks,
copy
of
1825
magistrate’s
report,
 
;mber,
pages
from
“The
Fabrica;on
of
Aboriginal
history”

 
ANU
School
of
Art
Gallery:
“Thresholds
of
Tolerance”
exhibi;on

    • 
Julie
Gough



Some
of
our
women
kidnapped
by
sealers,
2007 

 
book,
paper,
beads,
fabric,
acrylic
on
canvas,
wood,
cord,
gunshot,
leather,
ink,

 
variable
dimensions.
Collec;on
the
ar;st
 
 
 
 
 
 
a.

She
was
sold
for
one
guinea


 
 
b.

Shard
(King
Island
2006) 
 
 
 

 
c.

Paddle
/
spear 
 
 
 

 
d.

hide
 
 
 

 
e.

Kangaroo
Island
sealing
camps 
 
 
 

 
f.

Some
of
our
women
kidnapped
by
sealers 
 
 
 

 
g.

King
Island
sealing
camps

    • Julie
Gough
 Witness,
2007
 chair,
;mber,
paper,
goat
hide,
ink
 variable
dimensions

    • Julie
Gough
 Sentence
(Ancestor),
2007
 Collec;on
of
Artbank 
 

 wood,
pyrography,
soap,
varied
dimensions,
13
pieces


    • SHE
WAS
SOLD
FOR
ONE
GUINEA

 SHE
WAS
TAKEN
MORE
THAN
10
THOUSAND
MILES
OVER
3
YEARS

 ON
AT
LEAST
5
VESSELS

 SHE
WITNESSED
THE
SINKING
OF
“THE
MARGARET”

 SHE
WAS
THEN
RENAMED
MARGARET
BY
A
GOVERNMENT
AGENT
 SHE
WAS
INCARCERATED
BY
THE
GOVERNMENT
FOR
11
YEARS
FOR
NO
CRIME
 SHE
HAD
ALREADY
BEEN
CAPTIVE
FOR
20
YEARS
TO
MEN
BEYOND
THE
LAW
 HER
DAUGHTER
HAD
BEEN
A
SERVANT
SINCE
BAPTISM
 HER
DAUGHTER
WAS
SHOT
AT
AGED
12
BY
HER
‘MASTER’
–

 APPARENTLY
MISTAKEN
FOR
A
POSSUM
 HER
DAUGHTER,
WHEN
HERSELF
A
MOTHER,
WROTE
TO
THE
GOVERNMENT

 REQUESTING
HER
MOTHER’S
RELEASE
FROM
INTERNMENT
TO
HER
 HER
ANCESTORS
HAD
LIVED
IN
AUSTRALIA
FOR
THOUSANDS
OF
GENERATIONS


 SHE
DIED
AGED
ABOUT
50
HAVING
LIVED
MOST
OF
HER
LIFE
IN
ENFORCED
EXILE

 FROM
HER
CHILDREN,
FAMILY
AND
HER
OWN
COUNTRY.

    • Julie
Gough
 Sentence
(Ancestor),
2007
 Collec;on
of
Artbank 
 

 wood,
pyrography,
soap,
varied
dimensions,
13
pieces


    • SHE
WAS
SOLD
FOR
ONE
GUINEA

 SHE
WAS
TAKEN
MORE
THAN
10
THOUSAND
MILES
OVER
3
YEARS

 ON
AT
LEAST
5
VESSELS

 SHE
WITNESSED
THE
SINKING
OF
“THE
MARGARET”

 SHE
WAS
THEN
RENAMED
MARGARET
BY
A
GOVERNMENT
AGENT
 SHE
WAS
INCARCERATED
BY
THE
GOVERNMENT
FOR
11
YEARS
FOR
NO
CRIME
 SHE
HAD
ALREADY
BEEN
CAPTIVE
FOR
20
YEARS
TO
MEN
BEYOND
THE
LAW
 HER
DAUGHTER
HAD
BEEN
A
SERVANT
SINCE
BAPTISM
 HER
DAUGHTER
WAS
SHOT
AT
AGED
12
BY
HER
‘MASTER’
–

 APPARENTLY
MISTAKEN
FOR
A
POSSUM
 HER
DAUGHTER,
WHEN
HERSELF
A
MOTHER,
WROTE
TO
THE
GOVERNMENT

 REQUESTING
HER
MOTHER’S
RELEASE
FROM
INTERNMENT
TO
HER
 HER
ANCESTORS
HAD
LIVED
IN
AUSTRALIA
FOR
THOUSANDS
OF
GENERATIONS


 SHE
DIED
AGED
ABOUT
50
HAVING
LIVED
MOST
OF
HER
LIFE
IN
ENFORCED
EXILE

 FROM
HER
CHILDREN,
FAMILY
AND
HER
OWN
COUNTRY.

    • 
Julie
Gough
 
The
Ranger,
2007
 
Invita;on
installa;on.
South
Australian
School
of
Art
Gallery,
UNISA.

 
Images
following
by
either
Michelle
Rodgers,
Michel
Kluvanek,
Nici
Cumpston

    • some
words
for
change,
February
2008
 tea
tree,
book
pages
from
Clive
Turnbull’s
book;
Black
War
dipped
in
wax
 ephemeral
art
exhibi;on,
Friendly
Beaches,
Tasmania
 photographs
by
Simon
Cuthbert


    • Julie
Gough
 artworks
2008
‐
20 Julie Gough Artworks 2008 - 2009

    • 
Ar;st
statement
–

Friendly
Beaches
Feb
2008

 
Julie
Gough
 
Some
words
for
change,
2008
 
Think
about
this.
You
and
your
parents
and
their
parents
and
their
parents
and
so
on
had
been
living
on
this
island
a
long
;me,
as
 good
as
forever.
We
know
what
happened
because
it
happened
to
us,
here.


Something
unbelieveable,
an
akempted
erasure
in
a
 span
of
thirty
years.
Any
Tasmanians
whose
ancestors
were
here
pre
1831
were
involved
somehow,
with
varying
degrees
(or
not)
 of
separa;on,
with
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
peoples
removal
from
this
island
to
Bass
Strait.
From
that
period
of
contact
and
conflict
 remain
clues
in
language
and
in
print
of
Aboriginal
efforts
to
understand
and
incorporate
what
had
arrived,
and
non
Aboriginal
 unwillingness
to
accommodate.
These
words
for
change
reveal
not
only
what
kind
of
new
things
were
arriving
here,
but
also,
in
 our
haunted
state
of
retrospect

they
outline
what
was
promised
for
those
observing.
Place
is
tenacious,
it
always
eventually
 reveals
its
history.

This
work
is
a
kind
of
land
poem
about
change
and
the
irony
of
how
silence
can
become
its
opposite.

 
[1]
 
moogara
(dog),
booooo
(cakle),
bar
(sheep),
parkutetenner

(horse),
parrenner
(axe),
wetuppenner
(fence),
ponedim
 (england),trabanna
(blanket)
leewunnar
(clothes),

mutenner
(cap),
lurlaggerner
(shoes),
panneebothi
(flour),
parteper
(pipe),
 pyagurner
(tobacco),
perringye
(bushranger),
teeburrickar
(soldier),
linghene
(fire
a
gun/scourge/flagellate),
hillar
(gun),
lughtoy
 (gunpowder),warkerner
(musket),
parkutelenner
(horseman),
licummy
(rum),
perrukye
(broom),
;eridka
(boat),
mar;llarghellar
 (goat),
worerae
linene
(tent),
nyvee
(knife),
beege
(oar),
narpunenay
(sew),
kaeka
(spaniel),
legunthawa
(kangaroo
dog),
pleeerlar
 (cat),
noermernar
(white
man),
devil
(nowhummer),
white
man
(nonegimerikeway),
ugly
head
(nonegielearty)
 
[2]
 
Saturday
23
December
1830.

The
Hobart
Town
Courier:

 
On
Wednesday,
one
of
the
most
numerous
mee;ngs
which
has
yet
been
held
in
the
colony
was
assembled
in
the
court
of
requests
 room.
Mr
Hackek
regreked
that
so
few
efforts
had
been
made
by
the
whites
to
learn
the
language
of
the
blacks…
he
did
not
think
 there
were
five
persons
in
the
island
who
could
converse
with
them
or
make
themselves
understood
by
them….Had
Van
Diemen’s
 Land
been
colonized
by
the
French
the
case
would
have
been
very
different.
 
Note:
The
language
words
above
were
recorded
by
non
Aboriginal
people
during
the
early
1800s.
From:
Plomley,
N.J.B,
1976,
A
 Word
List
of
the
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
Languages.
Author
&
Government
of
Tasmania
Launceston.



    • Julie Gough Black-line properties I 2008 Tea tree spears with paint on timber 94 x 196 x 7 cm collection of Janet Holmes a Court
    • Julie Gough The chase 2008 Found leatherette chaise lounge, steel pins, burnt tea tree 97 x 182 x 52 cm collection of NGA
    • This
work
is
a
well
worn
chaise
impressed
with
a
text
made
from
tens
of
thousands
of
pins.

Each
leker
took
12‐
15
minutes
to
make.
The
chaise
is
 modified
further
with
burnt
tea
tree
s;ck
spear
legs
akached
onto
the
original
legs,
turning
this
familiar
furniture
item
into
a
fugi;ve
object
that
 threatens
poten;al
mobility,
even
flight.





 Saturday 27 November 1830 The Hobart Town Courier Two of the aborigines who have been living so long at Mr Robinson’s on the New Town Rd absconded this morning, after divesting themselves entirely of the clothing given to them and which they had so long worn. They were apparently getting accustomed to the mode of living of the white people and could speak English. Many of the inhabitants of New Town were in the habit of stopping at the door and talking to them. They were encountered in the bush by two broom makers, one a cripple, who succeeded in taking them. The blacks made every effort to escape. Several persons at work in the bush fled at the sight of them. Nothing can tame them.
 The
chaise
is
a
common
item
in
Hobart
an;que
stores
and
the
Tasmanian
Museum
and
Art
Gallery
usually
exhibits
one
of
its
famed
colonial
chaises
 in
its
entrance
way.
This
furniture
item
usually
represents,
for
me,
the
gambit
comfort
of
the
upper
classes
in
‘sekling’
into
a
supposedly
colonised
 Van
Diemen’s
Land.

 Furniture,
as
much
as
newspaper
texts,
clothes,
foods,
plants
and
introduced
fauna
in
the
1800s
all
represent
clues
and
a
corresponding
means
to
 make
contact
with
the
past
of
the
colonisers,
to
read
how
they
occupied
their
newly
invented
proper;es.
The
pins
are
for
me
a
means
to
literally
 spell
out
the
past,
to
slowly
realise
the
story
and
reflect
on
what
happened
whiles
making
the
work.
It
was
important
to
use
an
item
that
represents
 change
and
that
was
a
tool
of
a
seamstress
who
make
the
clothes
that
the
Aborigines
in
this
story
so
quickly
divest
themselves
of,
given
the
 opportunity.

 The
palpable
surfacing
of
Hobart
Town’s
fear
is
evident
in
the
text:
“Nothing
can
tame
them.”
It
reveals
publicly
how
well
received
will
be
the
 inten;on
of
the
Government
to
officially
remove
all
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people
the
following
year
in
the
“Black
Line
campaign”
of
1831.

 This
contemporary
viewer/reader’s
precogni;on
of
what
will
happen
to
Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people
in
the
subsequent
century
‐
post
1830s
Bass
 Strait
banishment,
rests
uneasily
with
the
abject
humour
in
the
text
openly
contradic;ng
itself,
admiZng
that
a
cripple
managed
to
capture
the
two
 ‘untameable’
Aborigines.

    • Julie Gough Head count 2008 Found chair with brass rods & black crow shells 85.5 x 43 x 43 cm collection of the artist
    • Julie Gough Incident reports 2008 Commissioned Tasmanian oak bookshelf, tea tree stocks, burnt Tasmanian oak 240 x 90 x 19 cm private collection
    • My making of strung coal necklaces refers in part to the Tasmanian shell necklace tradition, my own gap in missing the inheritance of that tradition in my immediate family, and how the processes of dispossession of Country: colonisation: farming, hunting, mining are in part responsible for this gap. However, probably ironically, my maternal Tasmanian Aboriginal family and my paternal Scottish family have both worked in, and in Tasmania owned, coal mines. Dalrymple Briggs and her husband Thomas Johnson opened in 1855 their 'Alfred Colliery' -.6 km east of Tarleton, Tasmania. Today abandoned, the seam was about 600 mm thick. The family of my Scottish Grandmother, Ann Gough (neé Laird) and Laird, Dobbie, Rennie relatives worked extensively in coal mines in Lanarkshire near Glasgow up to the early 1900s. The feel of coal in my hands is compelling. Somehow familiar, I feel the pull to collect, sort, drill and thread these giant necklaces. The blackness of the coal dust is somehow disconcerting given it is not the warm charcoal of a fireplace but the darkest coldest blackness of our ancient island’s core. The weight of a coal necklace becomes more than the personal, it seems to be the shared load of our history, I walk with each one around my shoulders once it is made, before it is consigned to a crate. Dark Valley, Van Diemen’s Land is then a mute memorial, a remembrance of the grim times and an invocation to keep making one’s way forward to comprehend what happened in VDL and where we are today in Tasmania. The antlers represent the avoidance and anxiety evident across Tasmania today in terms of the mainstream unwillingness/inability? to present colonial history as also Tasmanian Aboriginal history. Post 1800 Aboriginal Tasmanian history is afforded space in Bass Strait but is yet to be presented as concurrent and engaged with anglo heritage convict/ colonial histories promoted in tourist Tasmania. The stories of the hunt for Aboriginal people are too close to home, too clearly connected with major landholding families to this day to be easily acknowledged outside of art. Julie Gough Malahide 2008 Fingal Valley coal necklace on dropped Northern Midlands antlers 200 x 133 x 35 cm Collection of Art Gallery of SA
    • This work is literally a closed book. The book is fixed shut by the words on paper tape: SHE WAS SOLD FOR ONE GUINEA. This brief sentence refers to an event in the life of one of my ancestors. Woretemoeteyenner, daughter of Mannalagenna a significant leader of the Oyster Bay people, was born around 1795 and died 1847 near Latrobe in Tasmania. A Trawlwoolway woman from Cape Portland, north east Tasmania, Woretemoeteyenner spent the last 6 years of her life with her daughter, Dalrymple Briggs and family after Dalrymple successfully petitioned the governor for her mother’s release from Wybalenna, Flinders Island. Understanding Woretemoeteyenner’s life is, for me, a gradual unfolding of clues about what happened to her and all my family, especially during the first 50 years of the 1800s, when life on and around the island now called Tasmania was a series of changes, interruptions, violence and misdemeanours. It is difficult to comprehend and interpret those frontier times when information today is so brief and cryptic. Sometime in the late 1820s, perhaps 1827 after Woretemoeteyenner returned from 2 years of sea travel across to Mauritius with 4 other Aboriginal women and sealers. It appears that at this time her partner of perhaps 17 years, George Briggs, sealer from Dunstable Bedfordshire, sold her for a guinea to fellow sealer John Thomas. There is historic silence for Woretemoeteyenner’s life until 19 Dec 1830 when James Parish ‘brought in” to Swan Island five Aboriginal women he had found on Penguin Island, including this ancestor to George Augustus Robinson, lay preacher and Govt appointed “Conciliator of the Aborigines.” These women were: PILLEVER/ TRUCKLOWRUNNER/NOLLAWOLLAKER and TARERENORERER/WALYER and WORETERMOTETEYER and PLOWNNEME/PANGEM and NICKERUMPOWWERRERTER. These five women had been held captive catching seals for John Thomas, John Brown, Thomas Fisher, Thomas Turnbull and had got 120 skins in the previous 7 weeks. Briggs is not listed at this date as sealing in the Furneaux Islands of Bass Strait. Woretemoeteyenner soon after is living, again captive, but this time by Government order, at Wybalenna on Flinders Island, where she will spend almost a decade apart from her three daughters and son. This small artwork is about the frustration, anxiety and anger that I carry about those times. I am like this closed book, this story is in me, but it is hard to fathom. Apparently until about the 1830s in England wives could be sold at market, especially if both the wife and husband wanted this. This practice was frowned upon in England from the late 1700s, but sealer’s lives were separate in time and space than the place they had left behind. The sealers continued and modified their own cultural practices to suit their ruthless lives. The guinea had been replaced from the major unit of currency in 1816 in the “Great Recoinage” by the pound and with a coin called a sovereign. But in Bass Strait the Guinea was still tendered, probably to the end of the 1820s or even later. The guinea was equivalent to 21 shillings (£1.05 in decimalised currency). The Julie Gough guinea most likely to have been used to buy Woretemoeteyenner, if this account is She was sold for one guinea, 2007 true, would be the George the Third spade guinea of c.1795, minted on about the Found beaded decoration and book on wooden shelf year of her birth. 12 x 13.5 x 20 cm collection of NGA
    • Julie Gough Some Tasmanian Aboriginal children living with non-Aboriginal people before 1840 2008 Found chair with burnt tea tree sticks Installed approx: 288 x 60 x 50 cm collection of NGA
    • This work is literally a closed book. The book is fixed shut by the words on paper tape: SHE WAS SOLD FOR ONE GUINEA. This brief sentence refers to an event in the life of one of my ancestors. Woretemoeteyenner, daughter of Mannalagenna a significant leader of the Oyster Bay people, was born around 1795 and died 1847 near Latrobe in Tasmania. A Trawlwoolway woman from Cape Portland, north east Tasmania, Woretemoeteyenner spent the last 6 years of her life with her daughter, Dalrymple Briggs and family after Dalrymple successfully petitioned the governor for her mother’s release from Wybalenna, Flinders Island. Understanding Woretemoeteyenner’s life is, for me, a gradual unfolding of clues about what happened to her and all my family, especially during the first 50 years of the 1800s, when life on and around the island now called Tasmania was a series of changes, interruptions, violence and misdemeanours. It is difficult to comprehend and interpret those frontier times when information today is so brief and cryptic. Sometime in the late 1820s, perhaps 1827 after Woretemoeteyenner returned from 2 years of sea travel across to Mauritius with 4 other Aboriginal women and sealers. It appears that at this time her partner of perhaps 17 years, George Briggs, sealer from Dunstable Bedfordshire, sold her for a guinea to fellow sealer John Thomas. There is historic silence for Woretemoeteyenner’s life until 19 Dec 1830 when James Parish ‘brought in” to Swan Island five Aboriginal women he had found on Penguin Island, including this ancestor to George Augustus Robinson, lay preacher and Govt appointed “Conciliator of the Aborigines.” These women were: PILLEVER/ TRUCKLOWRUNNER/NOLLAWOLLAKER and TARERENORERER/WALYER and WORETERMOTETEYER and PLOWNNEME/PANGEM and NICKERUMPOWWERRERTER. These five women had been held captive catching seals for John Thomas, John Brown, Thomas Fisher, Thomas Turnbull and had got 120 skins in the previous 7 weeks. Briggs is not listed at this date as sealing in the Furneaux Islands of Bass Strait. Woretemoeteyenner soon after is living, again captive, but this time by Government order, at Wybalenna on Flinders Island, where she will spend almost a decade apart from her three daughters and son. This small artwork is about the frustration, anxiety and anger that I carry about those times. I am like this closed book, this story is in me, but it is hard to fathom. Apparently until about the 1830s in England wives could be sold at market, especially if both the wife and husband wanted this. This practice was frowned upon in England from the late 1700s, but sealer’s lives were separate in time and space than the place they had left behind. The sealers continued and modified their own cultural practices to suit their ruthless lives. The guinea had been replaced from the major unit of currency in 1816 in the “Great Recoinage” by the pound and with a coin called a sovereign. But in Bass Strait the Guinea was still tendered, probably to the end of the 1820s or even later. The guinea was equivalent to 21 shillings (£1.05 in decimalised currency). The Julie Gough guinea most likely to have been used to buy Woretemoeteyenner, if this account is She was sold for one guinea, 2007 true, would be the George the Third spade guinea of c.1795, minted on about the Found beaded decoration and book on wooden shelf year of her birth. 12 x 13.5 x 20 cm collection of NGA
    • Julie Gough Some Tasmanian Aboriginal children living with non-Aboriginal people before 1840 2008 Found chair with burnt tea tree sticks Installed approx: 288 x 60 x 50 cm collection of NGA
    • Julie
Gough
 







This
work
is
the
result
of
transcribing
the
grantee,
quan;ty
of
 Driving
Black
Home...2,
2009
(s;ll)
 acreage
in
County
loca;on
of

all
3125
land
grants
 dvd
loop:

dura;on
3
hr
43
min
55
secs
 distributed
between
1804
‐
1832
in
VDL.
I
then
filmed
while
 driving
through
the
various
coun;es
in
which
these
grants
 Land
Grants
given
out
between
1804
‐
1832
in
VDL:
3125
 are
located.
The
;me
these
grants
take
to
scroll
across
the
 Acres:
1
million
842
thousand
and
234
acres
 footage
determined
the
length
of
the
film,
hence
12
hours
 On
average
one
grant
given
every
3.25
days
for
28
years
 of
footage
was
edited
to
match
the
number
of
grants
that
 Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people
in
1804:
Approx.
5000
 move
across
the
screen
at
c.5
seconds:

3
hr
43
min
55
secs
 Tasmanian
Aboriginal
people
in
1832:
Approx.
250 in
total.
 Thanks
to:
Koenraad:
road
trip,
Nancy
Mauro‐Flude:
edi;ng


    • Julie
Gough
 rivers
run,
2009
 dvd
silent
film

 40:55
mins

    • 
Julie
Gough
 
Force'ield
2,
2009
 
Apple
tree,
brick
6ireplace,
deposition
from
ms3251
NLA,
 Tasmanian
oak,’
The
Fabrication
of
Aboriginal
History”.
 
The
Clemenger
Award
‐
National
Gallery
of
Victoria

    • Julie
Gough
 Manifesta@on
(night),
2010
 (work
in
progress)
 Bruny
Island

    • Julie
Gough
 Manifesta@on
(dusk),
2010
 (work
in
progress)
 Bruny
Island