Arrarntenh – Motorbike Paddy Ngal

There is nothing deep down inside us except what we have put there ourselves.

– Richard Rorty

In the early 1930’s when Paddy Ngal was born, pastoral activity was expanding across the lands of the Anmatyerr and Alyawarr people. Paddy’s mother and father worked for periods at the old Utopia Station, thus his early life oscillated between time at the Station, and life in the bush. During time-off in­­­ the rainy season they camped in a nearby rock shelter, these-days earnestly referred to as ‘Paddy’s first house’. On other occasions the family journeyed further to his mother’s country at Ngkwarlananim, where Paddy spent time with family who ‘grew him up proper way’.

In his teenage years, Paddy began employment as a casual station hand. First tending to a troublesome herd of goats, and later working with horses. Alongside his older brother Jimmy, Paddy’s strong work-ethic impressed the Station Manager, Alec McLeod, who encouraged him to attend to a variety of jobs on, and beyond the Station. His primary task was the mustering and droving of cattle. During the muster Paddy and his Countrymen moved between numerous bores gathering a large herd which they eventually drove to Mparntwe (Alice Springs). Remembering these times, he recollects the pastoral landmarks like old friends. The Stations: Utopia, Mount Swan, Ammaroo, Mount Skinner and Woodgreen. The bores: Lily, Kurrajong, Soapy, Bitter, Tomahawk, Boundary and Mulga. The cattle yards: Number 9, Lily Bore and Three Mile.

In the mid-1950’s, Paddy was provided with a motorbike for use around the Station. At this time on the stations throughout Central Australia, motorbikes were a rare commodity. Motorbikes like Paddy’s however, with three wheels, chopper handlebars and a long saddle seat, were unheard of. ‘I like’em class’ he stated recently. Class indeed. Upon this handsome machine – and the more modest two-wheeler that followed – he oversaw the servicing of station bores. He ‘chased bullock and brumbies’ and hunted kangaroos. His sons speak of his love for riding in the rain and slop, and remember that whenever you rode with Paddy, you held on for dear life. One famous story captures the moment when Paddy – hunting without a rifle – ‘popped a wheelie’ causing his front wheel to crash down on-top of a kangaroo – killing it instantly. Such stories fed into the folklore that surrounded this remarkable man, and so the name Motorbike Paddy was struck by McLeod and never went away.

After a life of travel and toil on the Station, Paddy settled into a quiet life at Camel Camp with his beloved wife, Kathleen Ngal. One of sixteen outstations situated in the Utopia region, Camel Camp was where his uncle, Camel Jack laboured with two well-remembered camels; Ruby (or Ropey) and Rain Camel, who with harness and chain drew water from the bore. It was at Camel Camp that he came to observe the artistic activity of Kathleen and her sisters, Polly and Angelina, all of whom began their artistic careers in batik before taking up canvas. The paintings they produced centred upon their shared cultural identification with arnwekety (Conkerberry, Carissa spinarum) and arrarntenh or artapaly (Native currant, Psydrax latifolia). Paddy too is a custodian of these plants and the story of their dispersal across Arlparra country.

In 2015, when he was over 80 years old, Paddy began fashioning wood carvings of small human figures. Two years later he began producing occasional paintings of body paint designs, interspersed with figurative scenes of station life including depictions of his fabled motorbikes.

Then in 2021, Kathleen passed. A grief-stricken Paddy – following cultural protocol – set fire to her material belongings. The resulting blaze reduced part of the roof of their home to nothing more than a charred frame and white ash. Paddy moved to a nearby house and in sadness continued painting. His practice became increasingly focussed upon the arnwekety, so often colourfully celebrated by Kathleen. In contrast, Paddy’s arnwekety paintings typically feature stark black marks on a pale background. It would be too simple, too naive, to interpret these paintings as figurative depictions of the tiny egg-shaped fruit that ripens black. To settle our understanding on anything so tangible is to limit the infinite possibilities these paintings have.

Watching him paint recently, I see him content. His face relaxes, his eyes drop, his slight frame momentarily inflates. First, a large brush pushes white paint in every direction. He pulls, scrapes, drags, dabs, shuffles, smothers and teases. He reaches as far as his arm will take him, until family – waiting to assist – stand the substrate upright allowing him to reach its centre. As they dutifully rotate the canvas – paint drips and dribbles downward, sideways, inwards, and backwards. As it rests to dry Paddy gathers an arsenal of brushes, their bristles hardened and bent. He begins to mark the surface, which is worked, and re-worked, seemingly finished then undone. White, black, white, grey. Sometimes raw umber, sometimes red, magenta, and pink. Particles cluster, ideas disappear, time and space, expands and contracts. Granular, atomic, ethereal, these are the paintings of now.

 

Luke Scholes

February 2024

The writer is indebted to Motorbike Paddy Ngal for having me on his Country. Also, to Sam Jampijinpa Mpetyan Dixon, Harry Dixon Mpetyan, Matthew Mpetyan and Andy Mpetyan for their hospitality, guidance, and generosity. Many thanks to Sophia Lunn, Manager Utopia Art Centre for her insights, energy and enthusiasm.