Paramontage - 'Syntax prescribes - I'

A third work of art by Matthew sent to the group. Enjoy.

This work is the last one in a series.

Another photographic work - 'On the way to New England'

This is a 3-minute video with a second artwork Matthew made commemorating Myall Creek. 

Hope you enjoy watching it. Thanks for your time.

Photographic artwork about Myall Creek - 'Return'

One of the Sydney Friends, Matthew da Silva, shared a video with the Friends showing a striking photographic artwork he made featuring Myall Creek. Specifically, the piece shows the 2011 commemoration ceremony, which he attended. 

This video runs for about 3 minutes. The work is one of a series Matthew made, and more videos will be posted here in coming days.

New history of Myall Creek memorial published

It’s easy to overlook the importance of reconciliation. What does it mean to you? To me? To the bloke down the street with his designer clothes? Graeme Cordiner’s memoir pulls back the layers of history to reveal a long-term commitment to the act of reconciliation.

A journey on a road that, to make it, makes perfect sense. It’s a journey that, in a way, each Australian is being asked to make now that we’re facing the prospect of a referendum on a Voice to Parliament. But it’s easy to miss the turnoff even when we feel that something is wrong. We have centuries of abuse to deal with.

As Cordiner says in his book, Aboriginal people have given us a gift in the Uluru Statement from the Heart. Whichever model is chosen to proceed on the path to closure for all Australians – remember that we have prospered while they have been – among other things – killed, raped, and had children stolen from their parents – we should take the time, as Cordiner has done, to understand the full breadth of the issue. 

Written over a period of 20 years, ‘Find Our Heart at Myall Creek’ charts the trajectory of one man. Taking a view that privileges early settlers as well as convicts, Cordiner tries to come to terms with the fact of the word “Sorry”. What does it mean to an Aboriginal person to hear the word? What does it cost a white man to utter it? What kinds of relations become possible once the fact of the matter has been admitted, in all of its real and imagined ramifications? What kinds of relations are prevented from happening in its absence?

Drawing on personal memories, in a series of short, punchy chapters, Cordiner unveils an image of forgiveness and shows that it will cost us more to ignore than to recognise the depth of the injustice that has been perpetrated in our name. He doesn’t spare iconic names, such as the Sydney Morning Herald – a booster of colonial enterprise that disparaged the prosecution in the case of the crown at the time of the Myall Creek murder case – because Sydney was involved as much as was New England, where the crimes took place at a remote cattle run in 1838. 

Not only were around 30 Aboriginal people killed, in the aftermath of the massacre Sydney was troubled and generations have been troubled in kind. The map of the territory is still being drafted, but we can all lend a hand in opening a passage through the thickets. 

Kelvin Brown interview for NSW Creators of Peace

Myall Creek National Committee member Kelvin Brown, a tribal elder of the Anaiwan People of the Gamilaraay Nation, on Saturday 3 July participated in a presentation for an international group of (mainly) women, Creators of Peace. The interview was conducted over Zoom and most of the participants were in Australia.

Kelvin talked about his upbringing in the area commonly referred to as New England. When he was very small his father had been abusive and his mother, after a particularly bad flogging the man inflicted on the child, took Kelvin 70km on foot to Tingha, a small town north of Armidale. Here there were places where Aboriginal people lived, and here Kelvin grew up before he moved to Inverell so he could go to high school.

Kelvin recounted experiences of a spiritual nature, once of which took place when he was walking through bush near the town. He’d gone in between two slender trees before, on the other side, sensing a voice telling him to turn around. When he did he saw an Aboriginal warrior with spears and nullanullas whose body was transparent. He looked at this apparition for about 30 seconds before turning back to continue on his way.

On another occasion, Kelvin had an out-of-body experience. He was in class and heard a voice telling him to get out, so he walked outside. Into the distance, between two prominent rises that marked the landscape, he went in spirit until he reached a place where a very old man was sitting by a fire. Kelvin asked the man why he had been called and the man said he was dying and wanted him to be there. At that moment thousands of images flew through the air into Kelvin’s mind, though at the time he had no recollection of what they depicted. When he woke up from his reverie a friend was near him and he asked his friend how long he’d been there. His friend said he’d been gone for 15 minutes and that even punches on his arm hadn’t woken him up.

Kelvin also talked about his family’s experience in war. One grandfather, an English migrant, had been involved in Gallipoli and had decided, after that event, to come to live in Australia. Kelvin’s father had been in WWI and was in Tobruk. Kelvin’s uncle was in Singapore when the English surrendered to the Japanese and was subsequently taken into captivity. The Japanese had trouble working out what to do with him and eventually gave him more freedom than other prisoners enjoyed. In this way he was able to save 60 of his comrades.

For his part, Kelvin was in the army and assigned to signals. One of his comrades hated Aboriginals and would abuse Kelvin verbally whenever they meet, or else pointedly ignore him. Kelvin didn’t react to this conduct but got on with his other comrades, and one day this man told Kelvin that he couldn’t hate Aboriginals any longer. His mother had taught him to think that way, and later he asked Kelvin to go back when they had leave to stay at his mother’s house. When they left at the end of the weekend, she asked Kelvin to look after her son and gave them lunch to take with them for the journey back to base.

Armajen Aboriginal Medical Service was a project Kelvin was asked to become involved with. He told us how he’d been in a pub having a beer one day when he heard a tapping on the glass. A woman outside called him over and told him that her group had been having trouble getting funding for Armajen and that they wanted Kelvin to help them out. He agreed to look at their paperwork and read through it over the period of a few days, eventually agreeing to be involved on account of a certificate from the state premier supporting the project.

Kelvin subsequently became involved with a Sydney health service and started to petition the government, always coming up against on particular man who he classified as his nemesis. One time, at a conference where over 300 professionals were attending, including the man from the department, the two of them found themselves sitting opposite each other at lunch. Before the man got up to leave he told Kelvin not to stop his work, and to keep on asking for support. Not long after this, his friends asked him to come back home so he quit the health service and travelled back to New England where they told him there was a meeting with the government and he’d been asked to attend. When they got there, they received the news that their request had been successful and that approval had been given on condition that Kelvin be involved as his example had shown the bureaucrats that the group was serious.

Kelvin was asked to be involved with Myall Creek by his nephew.