• Nimbin Museum

    Nimbin Museum


Burri’s Story;

I started work in the museum in 1994 after discussions with Michael and other artists and sculptors. A major part of my involvement has to do with Bungalung/Goori culture, also to ensure correct application by working with Bungalung elders.

I see my part in the museum as one of interpreting Butheram (Dreaming) into images that can be understood by the general public.

The most important information I feel is the Bungalung Law/Code of WANNA BOOMALAY, WANNA WEIRGALLA, WANNA GUBAUUNA, DON’T KILL/FIGHT, DON’T STEAL, DON’T BE GREEDY given to the Nimbin community.

Elspeth’s Rave,

A community mission. My early memories of the museum are of nights spent painting on walls, filling in space until you joined some other piece of work. Donato papier macheing, and in the breaks, covered in glue and paint, playing slow tangos on his piano accordion. Lots of concentration and loud music. Irish working on the electrics. With Burri and Helen long nights at home painting Museum Tee-shirts and making the life size model of Bob Durrubin that sits surveying the Bungalung Room.

There have been so many years of “Museum”.

My first painting for the Museum was the False Profit seated in the foreground, the Rainbow Cafe and the Nimbin street behind him. I have painted locals in the picture, some the fallen angels, with children. Its a rather bleak scene. As the painting spreads across the room the scene changes to a monk meditating under a tree, in the distance, the dreadlocked and the feral moving in front toward the forest, planting trees along the way.

Whenever I have painted for the Museum, I have been motivated by the wish to make the world a better place.

Now the freedom of the computer has been made apparent, I’ll rave and come back later. Clean up the mess.

The idea of the Museum was to reflect the attitude of Nimbin, give people an insight into the Hippy, alternative life. Visitors weren’t necessarily welcome onto the communities,, what with privacy and plots! And people passing through were curious to know what “went on” out there in the hills, when did it start, and why people choose to live the tough life of the pioneer when a good deal of them were raised in middle class susburbia.

I chose, and think I represent a large majority of them. I felt trapped in the city, I couldn’t look forward to a cream brick veneer future.

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