Art centres are often cultural and economic hubs in remote communities. But what happens when artists retire? Or the sales dry up?

As one of the largest employers of Aboriginal people in the communities of Kalka and Pipalyatjara in South Australia and Wingellina in Western Australia, Ninuku Arts has around 70 artists on its books and about 20 of them receive weekly payments from sales.

These artists are often putting food on the table for their families, which is why the phone at the centre is often left off the hook.

The artists receive so many calls from family members asking for money that it can create a constant distraction.

As senior artists pass away or move into elderly care, the centre must now find a way to stay financially viable and help its new generation of artists thrive.

"We don't have many senior artists left with those big stories, and those recognisable styles of painting," said Ninuku Arts centre manager Mandi King.

"We have young generations coming up who are searching to find their identity and their voice within the contemporary art movement."

Carol Young weaving with grass during a Ninuku Arts camp. ( Supplied: Meg Hansen Photography )

Some senior artists were regularly selling works for over $10,000, and since they have moved on it has impacted the centre, Ms King said.

The majority of remote art centres across Australia are facing similar situations according to Darren Jorgensen, an art historian at the University of Western Australia.

He added that the global financial crisis also put a large dent in the art market just when many established painters passed away.

"Centres have had to reinvent themselves. Some have become shells of their former lives, while others have begun to collaborate more with large institutions instead of relying on commercial art markets," he said.

It is a moment in the centre's history that Ms King, who is newly appointed to the role, takes extremely seriously, as the loss of high calibre artists makes it more difficult for the centre to function.

Ninuku Arts manager Mandi King (centre) and artists Molly Miller and Carol Young at an art camp. ( Supplied: Meg Hansen Photography )

And in a place like Kalka, which does not have a shop, even the ability to provide lunch for artists while they are working could be compromised.

"This has a ripple effect through the community," Ms King said.

Finding new inspiration

In a bid to revitalise the centre's work, a group of artists recently undertook a large painting project on-country, the first in many years.

Their aim was to produce a series of collaborative canvases and woven sculptures they hope will form part of a museum exhibition in 2019.

Artists from the centre spent a week camping on the homelands of senior artist Josephine Mick.

Artist Josephine Mick at work on one of the large canvases painted during the art camp. ( Supplied: Meg Hansen Photography )

It was an opportunity to tell younger artists the Tjukurpa [dreaming] stories and show them how she represented the stories on canvas, Ms Mick said.

The young people accompanied the artists, climbed rocks, explored caves, and hunted.

Camping out bush with so many people involved many trips along a dusty track to ferry people, supplies and forgotten medications.

"We're here, out of the arts centre, so we can see all the things, caves and things, where the dreaming was. We'll be doing this on our painting," Ninuku Arts chairman David Miller said.

David Miller, the chairman of Ninuku Arts, on the Aralya homelands during the art camp. ( ABC Goldfields-Esperance: Rhiannon Stevens )

He hoped the activities would not only build future artists, but assist the community to build future leaders.

"We like to teach our young ones about our knowledge they can learn and take the opportunity from us and pass it on to the other generation when they raise their families," he said.

The chance to work with the last of the senior artists was vital for the next generation, Ms King added.

To help the artists produce these new, large works, the centre hired two prominent art advisors, Marina Strocchi and Wayne Eager.

"Our role is to be supportive but not directional," Ms Strocchi said.

The week before coming out on-country, they worked with the artists in the centre making rough works with paint on paper to get them "limbered up" and feeling fresh.

As artists themselves, they tried to imagine the atmosphere needed to paint comfortably and help the artists release any nerves in the face of such large canvases.

"Our role is to create an environment where people feel like they can just do what they want. Expansive, rather than contracting," Ms Strocchi said.

Marina Strocchi with artists Ruth Fatt and Josephine Mick around one of the canvases painted at the recent camp. ( Supplied: Meg Hansen Photography )

A community hub

While the centre plays an important role fostering artistic talent, it is also a social and cultural hub for the community.

A landmark study of remote art centres concluding in 2016 found their economic value may have been overestimated.

But the cultural importance of these centres has often been overlooked, according to Dr Jorgensen.

"Art centres functioned for many years as cultural centres, but no-one really realised that until the paintings stopped making money," he said.

Artist Molly Miller collecting grass to weave. ( Supplied: Meg Hansen Photography )

In Kalka, the centre is a place to sit down, have a cup of tea and share news. It is also a place of respite.

"The arts centre operates as a neutral place where people can come to get away from problems that they might be having within community, or within families," Ms King said.

The centre, with its 'troopie' van and funds to buy fuel, is often the only way people with limited access to transport can go out bush.