Qantas announces the launch of the sixth aircraft in the Qantas-Balarinji Flying Art Series – the beautiful A220 Minyma Kutjara Tjukurpa.

Designed by leading Indigenous Australian design agency Balarinji based on the artwork by renowned Pitjantjatjara artist Maringka Baker, Minyma Kutjara Tjukurpa tells the creation story of the Two Sisters. Balarinji has been working with Qantas to create the fuselage design for all of the Flying Art Series liveries in collaboration with First Nations artists and their families.

Balarinji’s latest design for Qantas’ aircraft was painted by Airbus in Mirabel, Canada in October 2023 and took more than two weeks to complete. Featuring over 20,000 dots, the fuselage design was one of the most complex liveries that Airbus has ever painted onto an aircraft.

The Two Sisters story

In the story, two sisters are travelling back to their home. The younger sister has been lost for a long time in the south, and her big sister leads her north across vast distances. Comforting her younger sister, the older sister teaches her about the Country they travel through. They stop on the way to perform Inma (sacred singing and dancing).

Through motif, colour palette and story, Maringka Baker’s art expresses deep Indigenous meaning about sustainability. Credits: Artwork – Maringka Baker, Minyma Kutjara Tjukurpa, 2018 © Maringka Baker/Tjungu Palya Art Centre. Licensed by Copyright Agency.

Hailing from the remote community of Kanpi in far north west South Australia, Baker is recognised as one of Australia’s most accomplished artists, with works held by the National Gallery of Australia and the Parliament House Art Collection.

Maringka Baker (Image source: Balarinji) 

“Balarinji is proud to have worked with Maringka and her family, Tjungu Palya Arts Centre, Copyright Agency, Qantas and Airbus to create this beautiful aircraft. The art aircraft collection is a great example of how we can experience the strength, integrity and beauty of Aboriginal culture through best practice collaboration with artists and communities,” says Ros Moriarty, Balarinji co-founder and managing director.

Image: Qantas

Artwork: Maringka Baker, Minyma Kutjara Tjukurpa, 2018 © Maringka Baker/Tjungu Palya Art Centre. Licensed by Copyright Agency.

Emigrate-to-Australia is sharing a series of articles on the delights of Australia’s Heritage. Here is our 4th Update!

In our next article on the cultural treasures to greet you when you visit or migrate to Australia, we look at some indigenous art. Australia’s local art is a rich cultural tapestry woven by its First Nations people, and nowhere is this more evident than in the diverse array of Indigenous sculptures and carvings that tell the stories of the land’s ancient history. From the captivating ‘Fruit Bats’ sculpture by Lin Onus to the hauntingly beautiful Pukamani funeral poles of the Tiwi people, these artistic expressions offer a glimpse into the spiritual and cultural significance of Australia’s Aboriginal communities.

The ‘Fruit Bats’ sculpture, with its unique incorporation of the iconic Hills Hoist clothesline, is a testament to the creativity and resourcefulness of Indigenous artists. Traditional cross-hatching designs adorn the life-sized fruit bats, hanging in a mesmerizing display that draws visitors into the heart of Aboriginal culture. Similarly, the mass of hollow log coffins from central Arnhem Land housed in the National Gallery invites exploration and contemplation, showcasing the diversity and depth of Indigenous artistic expression.

Camp dog sculptures, unassuming yet powerful in their representation, capture the essence of real camp dogs that populate Indigenous communities. Bush Critter sculptures, carved with wild expressions, reflect the surprises of the bush, creating a connection between art and nature. Dennis Nona’s exquisite bronze and aluminum sculptures, particularly those of stingrays, add a touch of finesse and exoticism to the cultural landscape.

While these artworks reflect both everyday needs and ceremonial purposes, recent incidents of vandalism highlight the urgent need for greater education and respect. Ancient Aboriginal rock carvings, some dating back thousands of years, have been marred by scratches, fire remnants, and motorcycle tracks. The damage not only impacts the physical sites but also inflicts emotional wounds on the Indigenous communities connected to these sacred places.

Local Aboriginal woman Minmi Gugubarra expresses the deep emotional toll of the vandalism, emphasizing that these carvings are more than drawings—they are lifeblood, carrying the stories and spirituality of her people. The call for better education resonates strongly, as many Australians may not fully understand the historical significance of these sites, some of which predate structures like the pyramids of Egypt. If you are migrating to Australia ensure you learn about the amazing indigenous artifacts so that you can help to spread the word and protect them!.

Gavi Duncan, a Gomilaroi, Mandandanji, and Awaba man, emphasizes the importance of recognizing and respecting these sites, which are older than iconic landmarks worldwide. The need for better protection, education, and consultation with Aboriginal communities is clear. Vandalism reflects a broader issue of under-education about the significance of these places, prompting a call for more comprehensive efforts to bridge the cultural gap.

While incidents of vandalism cast a shadow, there are ongoing efforts by organizations like the National Parks and Wildlife Service (NPWS) and the Forestry Corporation to work with local Aboriginal communities. Signs at sites like Bulgandry Aboriginal Art Site and collaborations with cultural heritage supervisors demonstrate a commitment to educating visitors about the sacred nature of these locations.

Australia’s Indigenous art stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of its First Nations people. As we marvel at these expressions of culture, it is crucial to recognize the responsibility we all share in preserving and respecting the sacred sites that hold the stories of Australia’s ancient past. Through education, consultation, and increased awareness, we can ensure that these cultural treasures continue to inspire and connect us all.

There are many resources online if you would like to learn more or visit your local museum when you arrive in Australia.

Amanda Peters’ newest novel, “The Berry Pickers,” is all about cause and effect.

“The Berry Pickers” follows a Mi’kmaq family torn apart after the disappearance of its youngest member, a little girl named Ruthie. Peters wrote the novel after hearing her father, a berry picker himself, tell stories about his days in Maine. In following this narrative, Peters highlighted the traumatic echoes that separation can create.

“I feel like I’ve succeeded in doing something that can help, so to speak, even though it is fiction. Helping people to see that there are lasting consequences when you do something like that. When you take a child away from her family and her culture, there is something missing there,” Peters said in an interview with The Harvard Crimson. “There are consequences for everybody. And they’re not good consequences 99% of the time.”

Born and raised in the Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia, Peters is an associate professor in the Department of English and Theatre at Acadia University as well as an author. In the interview, Peters expanded on her writing journey and the process behind “The Berry Pickers.”

The novel follows the perspectives of Joe and Norma, two characters dealing with a terrible loss, weaving their stories of grief together into an enchanting narrative. Keeping these dual voices unique was key to Peters’ writing process.

“As I started writing, I found that I wasn’t sure I was being true to Joe’s voice and wasn’t sure if I was being true to Norma’s voice. So I just wrote all Joe’s. And then I wrote all the Norma’s, and then I put it together like a puzzle,” said Peters. “I really needed the voices to be very distinct because they have two different life experiences.”

In following the story of a lost Native child, Peters’ novel comments on the dark legacy of Native American residential schools and how young Indigenous girls have been taken from their families across North America. Peters did not write the novel with this parallel in mind, but she is not lost to how her book echoes history.

“The intention of the novel was to tell a good story,” Peters said. “But I think being an Indigenous person living and working in my Indigenous communities for years, and sitting and listening to residential school survivors tell their stories. Listening to those stories — I think it just comes as a natural product of being who I am and my life experiences.”

Incorporating Indigenous stories naturally fits into Peters’ writing. Still, getting to this place took Peters some time.

“I used to think that I shouldn’t write Indigenous stories, just because I wasn’t raised on the reserve, I don’t speak my language. The effects of colonization succeeded here, unfortunately,” Peters said.

But avoiding this part of herself led to unsatisfactory stories.

“They lacked heart. They lacked soul, they lacked rhythm, they lacked everything. So then I wrote my first Indigenous short story, it was a piece of flash fiction, and I loved it. It had my voice, the voice I wanted to bring,” Peters said.

Embracing her mixed Mi’kmaq and settler ancestry has allowed Peters to find her truest voice.

“I’m coming into that part of myself late in life, as a lot of Indigenous people are because of the effects of colonization. And I think my writing is actually the way I’m doing that. It’s uplifting me, and it’s making me want to know more,” she said.

Getting to this part of her writing journey wasn’t quick for Peters. Before becoming a published author, Peters faced many challenges and rejections. Still, she found that these roadblocks only represent how far she’s come.

“I always say, ‘Love those rejection letters,’ because they’re the stepping stone to better things,” Peters said.

Peters encouraged people in creative fields to keep working on their art, no matter how long it takes to get it out in the world.

“I always say, ‘Just keep going,’” Peters said. “I’m 46 when my first novel came out. I had lots of rejections before that. Lots of short stories and agents and stuff like that. But I just wanted to keep going, because I loved it. It’s what I loved.”

“So it’s never too late to start. And never too early to start either. I wrote a short story when I was 21 that I’m still tinkering with,” Peters said. “Just keep going.”

This attitude of getting through the hardest parts of life is reflected in “The Berry Pickers.” In both her work ethic and her stories, Peters encourages readers to keep fighting and to always embrace their truest identities.

—Staff writer Hannah E. Gadway can be reached at hannah.gadway@thecrimson.com.