I Put The Stars On The Ground at Sydney Observatory, Powerhouse Museum
- ART HISTORY
- 11 minutes ago
- 4 min read
By Master of Art Curating student Siri Wingrove
In Western thought, culture and science are often framed as separate ways of knowing – I Put The Stars On The Ground at Sydney Observatory urges us to unlearn that division. On Gadigal Country, high above Warrane (Sydney Cove), the exhibition stages a dialogue between First Nations knowledge of Sky Country and Western astronomy. It is a vital premise, positioning First Nations custodianship at the centre of conversations about navigation, seasonal cycles, and the cosmos, which have guided communities for millennia. Yet within the newly restored colonial architecture of the Observatory’s Residential Wing, this dialogue proves uneven. Works by Gail Mabo, Bulthirrirri Wunuŋmurra, William Barton and Veronique Serret are isolated on the upper floor, while the ground floor makes ample space for Powerhouse collection items tracing domestic life and scientific practice from Observatory Hill’s colonial past.
This imbalance becomes obvious as soon as you enter the building. Portraits of Government Astronomer Henry Chamberlain Russel and Observatory Director Harley Wood preside over the fireplace, surrounded by family likenesses that reinforce a certain authority. Across the hall, an à la cabinet of curiosities – a mini telescope, crystal water glasses, and a folded ‘British ship of war’ signal flag – evokes the Observatory’s colonial past. Much of the ground floor is otherwise left vacant. While the exhibition’s digital footprint positions Indigenous perspectives upfront, here, they are strikingly absent, allowing archival materials to dominate. It’s a missed opportunity to activate the layered histories of the site head-on.
Upstairs, the exhibition gains clarity. Four rooms pair Powerhouse collection objects with contemporary First Nations works, generating moments of genuine dialogue. In the first room, ‘Navigation and the Stars’, Gail Mabo’s seafaring map , Tagai (The Warrior in the Sky) (2021), anchors the room. A delicate grid of cast bronze bamboo and shells chart a constellation that holds deep meaning for Mabo, a Piadram woman from Mer Island in Zenadth Kez (Torres Strait). Tagai is a man in a canoe, one hand outstretched (the Southern Cross), the other holding a spear above his head. His movement across the sky signals the coming wet season. At its heart shines Koiki, a star named after Mabo’s father, Eddie Koiki Mabo, whose landmark legal battle overturned terra nullius in 1992. Nearby, European navigation tools – a sextant, astrolabe, hourglass, and compass – frame Indigenous knowledge of Sky Country not as parallel but essential to the broader history of astronomy.
In the adjoining room, Mabo’s video work Sand and Stars (2021) loops on a single monitor. The gesture is simple; sand falls from one hand into another, slowed and rotated until it resembles a night sky. It’s a meditation on the unbroken connection between Country and Sky Country, as well as on memory, care, and what gets passed between generations. Two additional star maps by Mabo deepen this cosmology. The Celestial Emu (2023) shifts attention from stars to the dark spaces between them, tracing a constellation formed by shadow in the Milky Way. This work is hung beside a recent astronomical photograph of the same formation taken by Powerhouse staff in 2022, a subtle but effective pairing
Across the hallway, the focus turns from stars to clouds. Bultjirrirri Wunuŋmurra’s ceramic works Waŋupini (Clouds) (2022 & 2023), depict red clouds at sunset, retelling the ancestral stories of Makassan sailors arriving and departing from Arnhem Land to Indonesia. Surrounding the room are ten sepia-toned photographs of cloud formations, captured over Observatory Hill by astronomer Henry Chamberlain Russel and photographer James Short in the 1980s. Together, they suggest different ways of reading the weather: one meteorological, the other storied.
The final room holds Songlines of Our Universe (2021), a sonic constellation by William Barton in collaboration with Veronique Serret. A single low bench invites stillness and listening. Created during Barton’s 2020 Powerhouse Indigenous Cultural Development Residency, the work blends didgeridoo, strings, and spoken word. First performed live on-site, it honours the sacred Songlines – networks that carry First Nations laws, stories, and knowledge across land, sea, and sky. It’s the most cohesive and resonant work in the exhibition, holding space and drawing loose threads together.
Still, the exhibition takes time to settle. Upstairs, the curatorial intent is clear and effective; downstairs, however, the historical material feels disconnected, a colonial story told without interrogation. As art critic Brian O’Doherty observed, “the value of an idea is proved by its power to organise the subject matter.”[1] While the exhibition’s conceptual grounding is strong, the display could benefit from a reorganisation to realise the vision more fully.
Other exhibitions like FIELD NOTES at Sauerbier House in Port Norlunga, South Australia, demonstrate how colonial architecture can be treated as a live surface for dialogue. Arches, cornices and washhouses are activated through contemporary installations by artists like Elyas Alavi and Léuli Eshrāghi.[2] The building becomes a participant rather than a passive vessel, where the colonial past greets contemporary voices. By contrast, I Put the Stars on the Ground is unresolved in its relationship with the Observatory’s Residential Wing. While the need to preserve heritage is real, it should not preclude temporary interventions that bring the space into the present.
To its credit, the exhibition is bolstered by a strong public program. During the Sydney Science Festival 2024, highlights included Akala Newman singing in Gadigal, Gail Mabo in conversation with Rachael Hocking, and First Nations sky tours led by Uncle Ghillar Michael Anderson. The short film Celestial Emu also premiered on-site, featuring Gamilaroi astrophysicist Karlie Noon and dancer Daniel Mateo, directed by Olivia Costa. Each of these projects has done well to energise the site, amplifying First Nations sounds, movements and epistemologies.
I Put the Stars on the Ground is curatorially astute but risks being forgettable, its impact diluted by adherence to formal layout. The challenge lies in balancing the depth of First Nations knowledge with the legacy of Western astronomical science within the constraints of a colonial-era building. Sydney Observatory is poised to become a site of unlearning and truth-telling – but for now, the stars are still fighting to be seen.
[1] Brian O’Doherty, “The Gallery as a Gesture,” Artforum, October 1973, https://www.artforum.com/features/the-gallery-as-a-gesture-208475/.
[2] See, for example, Julianne Pierce, “Field Notes,” Artlink 41, no. 2 (2021), https://www.artlink.com.au/articles/4932/field-notes/.
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