Do we need a National Aboriginal Theatre?

There’s been a lot of talk about the need for an institution dedicated to First Nations performing arts. Carissa Lee argues that such an institution could segregate our culture and support the ‘doom narratives’ of the past.
[This is archived content and may not display in the originally intended format.]

Ahead of the 2019 federal election, Opposition arts spokesman Tony Burke said that a National Theatre for Indigenous Drama would be established under a Labor government.

Burke’s declaration is a lovely thought, but problematic for a couple of reasons. Firstly, Burke makes this statement of the country needing to see who we are and how we fit, as if we haven’t already been trying for decades with numerous First Nations theatre companies, and the answer is a government-funded ‘national’ one. It’s also concerning that it gives the impression that this National First Nations theatre would be making theatre for white people, which although is valid in some ways, isn’t the entire reason why we make theatre. We need to see representations of our stories on stages, too. Having non-Indigenous viewership certainly means a wider-spread audience, but these productions and stories being told aren’t always about that.

First Nations Theatre in Australia

There have already been attempt to establish a national Indigenous theatre, such as Melbourne’s Nindethana Theatre, established by Uncle Jack Charles and Uncle Bob Maza. The latter went on to create the National Black Theatre in 1972 in Sydney, alongside arts practitioners such as Zac Martin and Gary Foley, where they staged the notable and controversial production of Basically Black.

Australia has seen many First Nations theatre companies. Kooemba Jdarra was established in Brisbane in 1993, which featured artists such as Deborah Mailman, with Wesley Enoch as the creative director. First Nations theatre companies are currently making work in Australia – such as Ilbijerri Theatre Collective in Melbourne, and Yirra Yaakin in Perth. Both companies endeavour to create stories for Mob, and by Mob, to ensure that representation of Indigenous people and their stories are being told in a culturally safe way. They also work and have worked in partnership with non-Indigenous companies/venues while presenting First Nations stories on stages with integrity.

For Community, by Community

Examples of blackfella stories told blackfella way can be found in Ilbijerri’s productions of Corranderrk, Chopped Liver, and Jack Charles vs The Crown. Yirra Yaakin found fame in 2012 through being the first Aboriginal company to translate and perform Shakespeare’s sonnets in an Aboriginal language (Noongar). The production was performed at London’s Globe Theatre.

A national First Nations theatre could do what these First Nations theatre companies do, including functioning as a predominantly black theatre company that occasionally collaborated with non-First Nations theatre companies. First Nations theatre isn’t always about educating or catering to a white audience who is more acquainted with seeing First Nations Mob in the context of a doomed narrative. Stories that have been written by and for Mob are, in my opinion, more important.

If First Nations productions are showing stories for First Nations this is more complex, it’s more about telling stories together, as Mob. Stories of heartbreak, stories of being something other than a pawn in a white chess game. If we want to tell stories about the travesties of history, we need to do this our way. As Dr Richard Walley OAM said at last year’s Performing Arts Conference, ‘You have to take a step back and say, “Rather than us leading the Aboriginal cause, let’s just step back and see what the Aboriginal stories are and follow it for a while – and then we can walk together.”’

Cultures Working Together

There is a huge difference between First Nations theatre for whitefellas and First Nations theatre for Mob. Whitefella theatre has the intention to inform, educate, in some instances, perhaps even make non-First Nations patrons feel better about themselves, because they are presented with white heroes saving a doomed race.

However, too often in our lives we are seeing blackfellas dying and being mistreated, and dealing with the intergenerational trauma that lasts centuries that renders us homeless, displaced, and poverty-stricken. However, when this is being presented on stages as a way to further the development of white characters, this is catering to an overdone doomed narrative and damaging stereotypes for Mob that we already have to deal with in our lives.

In a way, these stories that whitefellas write to allow for some kind of voyeuristic grief exclude First Nations audiences, because these productions/stories that aren’t helpful portrayals for us. We bear these doom narratives every day, and we don’t need them rubbed in our faces.

One of the negatives of having a solely First Nation National Theatre is the possibility of a segregated theatre. Although some established theatre companies program First Nations productions, there is potential for white theatre companies to think that they no longer need to prioritise First Nations theatre, if there is already a ‘place’ for it. It is still possible to have white theatre practitioners/companies and First Nations Mob collaborating with Mob being able to lead the way of the cultural and creative processes.

Successful examples such as Ilbijerri’s partnership with Belvoir and Version 1.0 to create Beautiful One Day, Yirra Yaakin and Black Swan Theatre presenting Skylab, Richard Frankland collaborating with Chris Mead through Belvoir to present Conversations with the Dead.

Through these collaborations, First Nations performances have expanded viewership, which could potentially lead to further employment opportunities, and whitefellas get a sense of what story means to us, much like Burke mentioned in his Labor speech. In these partnerships, the primary priority needs to be that collaborations with non-First Nations theatre companies can still be done in a way that remains truthful to the stories they’re telling.

So, yay or nay?

First Nations people have had to overcome adversities such as racism, family deaths and lateral violence, and the performing arts isn’t excluded from this. In cases of lateral violence, playwrights have stated that their cultural needs have not been met, some even stating that their plays have been whitewashed, and believe that a national theatre would remedy this. However, playwrights such as Nakkiah Lui have said ‘But we need to illuminate the white lens, and question it, if we want to democratise theatre and make room for other people.’

At the core, the essence of First Nations theatre is telling stories our way. So do we really need a national theatre to achieve that? Or should already established companies, playwrights and practitioners be integrating this way of working into their rehearsal and writing rooms? Should the allocated funding that’s apparently just sitting there waiting to be used, be utilised to facilitate already-existing theatre companies like Ilbijerri and Yirra Yaakin?

Perhaps a national amalgamated voice of First Nations people is needed, so our country can finally get a sense of how diverse, beautiful, tormented and wonderfully complex our cultures are. Either way, Australia needs to be reminded that we aren’t a people who has never tried to iterate our ‘place’ here, and we’re not here to give a ‘place’ to whitefellas either. Our stories are to be told our way, for us, and safely; regardless of the theatre they take place in.

This is the second article in our First Nations Arts Focus series.

Read the first article Australian writing has a blak past and future by Karen Wyld.

Carissa Lee
About the Author
Carissa is a Wemba-Wemba and Noongar professional actor and writer as well as currently undertaking her PhD through the University of Melbourne. Carissa also works as a specialist editor for ANZSOG’s First Peoples collection with the Analysis Policy Observatory at Swinburne University. An active member of the First Nations Australia Writing Network (FNAWN), her writing has appeared in Witness Performance, Junkee, The Melbourne Writers Festival, The Conversation, Lip Mag, and Book Riot. During her career as a performer, Carissa has featured on stages with La Mama, Melbourne Theatre Company, the Malthouse Theatre, and State Theatre Company of South Australia. Most recently, Carissa portrayed Charles Manson in Robert Reid’s reimagining of The Bacchae this year at La Mama. Carissa also maintains a love for onscreen work, regularly appearing in films, TVCs, music videos, and campaigns such as Deadly Questions.