Susannah Day is a Martu woman & program manager at The Torch
Can you tell me a little bit about The Torch and what it is that you do there?
The Torch started about 10 years ago as a pilot project with very few constraints. There was interest to see artwork from incarcerated Indigenous artists, and their artworks in the public. Our CEO Kent Morris started by going into prisons, and seeing what kind of support Aboriginal men and women wanted in terms of creating artwork. This then connected with cultural identity, and how intrinsically linked those two things are. It's not just about the creation of art, it's about telling stories, passing on knowledge, and connecting to your mob.
What's the importance of participants being able to pick what medium they tell the story in?
Importantly, it's about self-determination. But it's also about ritual. Not all artists want to paint or are interested in painting acrylic on stretched canvas. We've certainly had more of a groundswell of weavers within the female population. There are also quite a few men who really want to work with their hands and build.
When looking at the work you’ve done before, it’s spanned a few different areas: visual art, dance, and theatre. What led you to The Torch?
I was really scared of the job at first. I had never had an identified role before because I'd always been really afraid of not feeling like I knew what it meant to be Aboriginal, and more importantly Martu. I know that I have a really common story being the granddaughter of a Stolen Generation member. I've always struggled with my Aboriginal identity. I haven't always known what it truly meant to be Aboriginal. We were lucky enough that we knew we were Aboriginal at least, and nobody was ever not proud of that. But also, because I am, two generations away from someone who was completely removed of their culture, no one knew what to hand down.
About six years ago, I was a producer of theatre and was lucky enough to be invited to Hakea Prison in Perth to watch a performance of Midsummer Night's Dream by the male prisoners. For me it was formative, and life-changing. The population was mostly Aboriginal, and they were playing both men and women, and they didn't care. One of the guys said that it was the first time in a decade he'd been able to put on something that wasn't a green tracksuit.
I just thought, "This is an incredible environment that is full of humanity, but at the same time, a real lack of human rights. Is there a place for me here?". I think all arts workers go through a period where we’re thinking, "Am I doing enough to change the world?" And 20 months ago I looked inside myself and said, "No, you're not. You actually aren't changing the world enough. You're not affecting things and not particularly as an Aboriginal woman.” I had to find this incredible amount of bravery to take the role at The Torch, and stand up and say, "Yes, I'm an Aboriginal woman and I belong here."
How does The Torch help participants explore their identities?
This is at the very core of what we do. It's about connecting our artists to their cultural identity. The idea is to help participants explore their cultural identity by providing them with research and inspiration about their mob. We provide cultural language group books that include information such as creation stories, language, images of country, totems and significant cultural sites.
Our artists often start by painting an animal like their totem and often using many dots as these are easy to achieve and perhaps because dots have become synonymous with Aboriginal art. Then we try to work with an artist to work towards what their more traditional patterns might have looked, and that more connected practise, and to find a deep and meaningful story in the symbolism of their work.
This year’s NAIDOC theme is ‘Always was, Always will be’. What does the ‘always will be’ part of this theme look like to you?
For me, it’s reminding both mob and not mob that no matter what we do to this world, if you strip it all back, this is still a country made on sand and clay, and filled with First Nations people that know what it means to belong to the earth. I hear a lot of rhetoric, particularly from the non-indigenous community to say, "Can't we all just get along? Haven't we just reconciled? Can't we just accept what happened?" And that is really challenging to me, because this idea needs to work in parallel with real and ongoing recognition that this land was stolen in a way that was violent and reckless, and we shouldn't just accept that. First Nations people must be given real and genuine leadership and autonomy in decision making for the next 65,000 years and beyond.
Speaking of what will be - how has your current exhibition, Future Dreaming, helped support your participants during COVID?
One of the challenges we faced during the COVID pandemic was not being able to deliver our In Prison program face to face. Our service really does need face-to-face interaction and support, because it requires that physical visit to look at artwork, or that handshake that says, 'You belong here." Or, “you are mob, I recognise you." So, we were really nervous that our artists would be feeling isolated from the outside world or from Aboriginal community. I devised Future Dreaming as a way to allow our artists to have a theme and a goal to work towards, and asked them to write a story about their hope for the future or their vision for the future.
It's been a beautiful project, that has allowed us to collect and sell over 120 artworks via the form of an online exhibition – and for an artist, exhibitions mean so much. Some of our participants never thought that they'd be part of an exhibition, and what we're doing is showing them that no, it's absolutely real. You have a space, you are an artist and your voice is equally as important as somebody else's voice here, and there is so much love and respect for the work that you do. This ultimately leads to an increased sense of pride, emotional wellbeing and self-confidence in our artists which can mean better outcomes for them upon release.
Interview Jessamy Gleeson