Exhibition

Visions: Denise Brady

Aug 06 2026 - Aug 15 2026

My paintings are about culture, Anangu culture now. When I was very young, I started to learn stories about my culture, which grew up in me. I got a little bit older, and started to see what the culture was, and hear more stories about it. I started to get the sounds if my culture - the songs, the stories, the skin lines. When I grew up, all those cultural elements from the land, I carried it from my family's line - my tjamu and kami, my grandfather and grandmother.

My mum brought us up outside, we didn't have any house, we had to sleep outside and make a tent – ngultutjara (poor things). There were houses around but mum couldn't get one, so she was living at her big brother's. Mum had us there and we lived altogether. Mum was the one who looked after us mob. When I was five years old, Dad had to move on, so I stayed with mum. She started to work at the school, then made friends with teachers there. So that's where I learnt that other culture, talking in English, schooling started, church came in. And from there I grew up, started a good job. I learnt how to count money. I spent the money, counted the change.

That's why I’ve got both consciousnesses coming together in me. Like two creeks coming into one. So that's where I'm at now. I'm doing painting, thinking about the past, the present, and for the future. Sort of like writing a story on the painting. About the history of my part of time. I learned, and then I took over, and there's still more to do - to carry culture on and look after our families. It's inside of me, it's been grown and it's not going to break. It's a strong root inside me. Maybe our grandparents have passed away, but they root of what they taught is still there, and it bears fruit in us. That fruit is self-control.

People might want to change all our cultural practices, but it will never change, because it was taught to us by strong people, who loved and looked after it. And the thing about our culture, it's not just bush culture. Anangu have strong respect in their hearts. They would travel along, meet up with people, and if they got angry, they would then bring the love up inside, and instead begin to mourn. They’d sit down and talk to each other about things and tease it all out emotionally. They were really passionate. As I was growing up, I saw and heard and felt that passion – they owned it, and they shared it, so it was strong. And I am so passionate too.

Nowadays, I worry it’s gone a bit. We still have culture, in our ways of living – travelling around and sharing lots. But in the old days, it was everywhere. They had songs a long time ago which protected us. Whenever I got a prickle or hurt my foot, and I was crying, my grandmother would help me. She would sing a song, then pull the prickle out. Ands then she’d spit on the wound, and get angry at the pain, and she’d rub my foot and say, there’s no more pain now. So, it healed from what she did. I could feel the love that came out of her, the love and the anger at my pain. There were special words in language for healing, through song. I can remember the sound, the melody, but not the words. Those songs used to end pain. Nowadays, we’re just buying medicine, rubbing it on. I see people doing that, but they’re quiet. Before, when they did Ngangkari (healing), they would sing a song and cry, calming and softening the pain down.

These days, there’s programs happening like the NPY Women’s Council Law and Culture, which are great, and culture is still happening, but some songs are missing – everyday songs, for everyday problems. For example, now people worry as their sons and daughters are on ganja all the time. But when some young person problem used to happen, the family would sing them. Sing a song, keep them calm, sing them to come back to themselves and stay calm and cool, like water. I don’t hear those songs anymore. It’s in my memories now. And that’s what my painting practice is. It’s what I’m sharing with people. I want them to feel that warmth in me that I can feel, for my family. And to say thank you.