Finally, I made it to Tate Modern

Fulfilling a wish

It’s over twenty years since I left London but for a long time, I’ve wanted to visit Tate Modern—something I never had time for when I was living there. In December of last year, I took a short trip to visit old friends and family before the holidays and finally got to visit.

I went to the Emily Kam Kngwarray exhibition because it drew me on many levels. She didn’t start painting in earnest until she was in her late seventies and painted profusely for another eight years until her death. Her paintings are glorious depictions of the environment she lived in and never left over her lifetime. Her art is now valued at incredible prices and yet they stand in their own glory totally independent from any monetary value that others seek to attach to them.

Old women paint too

The fact she started painting so late was certainly a big draw for me, but I was not prepared for the impact of what she painted. I’ve been in Australia a couple of times and was always uneasy over what felt like an overlay of western norms covering something deeper, more insistent, achingly vital. The cities felt unreal, as if pasted on top of something much more important—and something I was drawn to know more about.

In the Tate as I moved from one painting to another, I began to sense the reason for that unease. Kngwarray’s art is the art of her country. It’s the story of her community and the land she inhabited. Each piece is alive with all the things we don’t notice—the plants, the animals, the insects that make up the story of the land—and they jump out at you making you finally see. In fact, you more than ‘see’—you sense it and experience it within your own self. You’re getting a glimpse into someone else’s truth that they live by but is largely ignored by everyone else. I felt extraordinarily grateful to be to share the gift of her seeing and ability to translate it into paint.

Elder knowledge

My feeling of awe deepened on coming across a film that was part of the exhibition. It focused on Awelye—which is collective form of matrilineal kinship and sharing of knowledge of the land, customs and Dreamtime stories. It includes song, dance, rhythm and melody. The women taking part in the movie were all old, comfortable in their bodies, rooted in their knowledge and experience. Their bodies were not toned but they were lived in. Bearing in mind the history of Aboriginal people in Australia, their lives would not have been easy. They would have seen and experienced a great deal and yet they came together to share their knowledge with trust and certainty. They felt the responsibility to pass it on to younger women because they knew its value. There was no apology for their age, their shapes, they were at home in their bodies, secure in their inner knowing without needing any outer definition.

Science senses it too

A recent study, led by Kings College London, measured the physiological responses of participants while viewing art by artists including Manet, Van Gogh and Gaugin in a gallery. Although the study was small—50 people between 18 and 40—the initial findings were impressive. The results showed that viewing art has a positive impact on our immune, endocrine and autonomic systems. It reduces stress, thus reducing the risk of health problems from heart disease to diabetes and depression.

An aspiration

This exhibition at the Tate was completely energising and galvanised my imagination with a wish to submerse myself in this way of seeing. I don’t have the knowledge and experience of these women, but their example can encourage me to explore deeper and aim to soar higher. For many years of my life, I have allowed all the activities of living to get in the way of my wish to make art—in paint, in fabric—but there is still time to nourish my spirit in this way. I won’t waste it.

Have you seen an exhibition that moved you recently. It would be great to hear about it.