Black Anzacs Honoured
News in from the Damien Minton Gallery of a very different way to celebrate and honour Anzac Day. This April 25 (2007) there’s to be a ceremonial march along Redfern Street - in Redfern - to "recognise, remember and accord respect to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders who have served their country."
Coinciding with the event is a group show at the Minton gallery organised by artist Reg Lynch. It's titled The Coloured Digger which is the title of a WW2 poem written by (non-indigenous) Sapper Bert Beros about his mate, an Aboriginal soldier remembered now only as Private West.
According to the Minton media release: "A diverse group of artists have each contributed an artwork which reflects their visual response to the poem and all it invokes …the question of war, nationhood, indigenous rights, love and individual sacrifice…the coloured digger." (Lynch’s own painting is featured here.)
Artists participating include: Martin Sharp, Johnny Bell, David Naseby, Luke Temby, Susan Fischer, Geoffrey Ferguson, Reg Lynch, Peter Walsh, Hugh Ramage, Rohan Wilson, Anthony Symons, Gordon Syron, Elaine Syron, Arone Meeks, David Kirk, Nerissa Lea, Tanya Sparke, Paul Worstead, Rebecca Lavis, Steven Moore, James Powditch, Adam Hill, Daniel Wallace, Gordon Flint, Henry Mulholland, Stephen Mackenzie, Warren Brown, Joan Ross, Steve Barton and Cecil Bowden.
The Coloured Digger at Damien Minton Gallery, 61-63 Great Buckingham Street, Redfern; April 18-May 5, 2007 (Wed-Sat 11am to 6pm); ph: (02) 9699 7551 for more information.
Anzac Day March: April 25, 12 noon, gather at The Block Redfern, march along Redfern Street to St Saviour’s Church for commemorative service at 1pm; Special viewing of The Coloured Digger show at 3pm.
And here's the poem which has inspired the event:
The Coloured Digger
by Sapper Bert Beros
He came and joined the colours, when the War God's anvil rang,
He took up modern weapons to replace his boomerang,
He waited for no call-up, he didn't need a push,
He came in from the stations, and the townships of the bush.
He helped when help was wanting, just because he wasn't deaf;
He is right amongst the columns of the fighting A.I.F.
He is always there when wanted, with his Owen gun or Bren,
He is in the forward area, the place where men are men.
He proved he's still a warrior, in action not afraid,
He faced the blasting red hot fire from mortar and grenade;
He didn't mind when food was low, or we were getting thin,
He didn't growl or worry then, he'd cheer us with his grin.
He'd heard us talk democracy - They preach it to his face -
Yet knows that in our Federal House there's no one of his race.
He feels we push his kinsmen out, where cities do not reach,
And Parliament has yet to hear the Abo's maiden speech.
One day he'll leave the Army, then join the League he shall,
And he hope's we'll give a better deal to the Aboriginal.
