Judy napangardi watson biography of rory

In June of 2006 I was lucky to be in Paris for the opening ceremonies of the Musée du quai Branly and the celebrations surrounding the unveiling of the Australian Indigenous Art Commission (AIAC).  Designs based on the works of eight Aboriginal artists were incorporated into the architecture of the museum’s administrative buildings, and a host of Australian dignitaries, art centre workers, artists, and admirers had gathered to honor the achievement.  Several days of festivities concluded with a reception at the Australian Embassy, when works from the collection of Melbourne gallerist Gabrielle Pizzi were on magnificent display.

It was a week of art openings, dance, song, and most of all, speeches.  We heard the majesty of Aboriginal art celebrated in French and English, Pitjantatjara and Kuninjku.  They were wonderful, heart-warming, rousing, and celebratory by turns.  There was one among the many, though, that stood out.  It was delivered by someone whom I’d never heard of before, a Dr Chris Sarra.  He was articulate, but above all he was passionate: who is this bloke with a fire in his belly I wondered?  Here’s what I wrote about it at the time:

Chris Sarra, Chair of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Arts Board of the Australia Council, spoke next and brought down