In 1988, while Australia was disingenuously promising a treaty to placate the First Peoples protesting against bicentenary celebrations, an Aboriginal character called Gateway appeared in the comic Uncanny Xmen #229. The mutant superhero Wolverine was perplexed, muttering, “Old Abo must be some kind’a teleporter.” Gateway had no reply. In fact, he had no dialogue in that or any subsequent issue. Like most Indigenous characters in superhero comics created by non-Indigenous writers, the voiceless Gateway occupied an uneasy space in the narrative, neither hero nor villain, good nor evil; a troubling part of the flora and fauna of the Marvel universe.

A new exhibition, Marramb-ik, at Melbourne museum’s Bunjilaka Aboriginal cultural centre, provides something of an antidote to this precarious positioning of Indigenous characters in the world of comic superheroes. Featuring the works of Victorian Aboriginal artists Lin Onus, Jade Kennedy, Heidi Brooks and Cienan Muir, this small but powerful show gives voice to Aboriginal superheroes created by and for Aboriginal people. It represents an empowering reversal of the genre – one focused on unlocking Indigenous power and potential.

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The title of the exhibition, Marramb-ik, is a Kulin phrase, a translation of that eternal assertion of being: “I am”. The idea is that the Aboriginal hero is not an alter ego to transform into, like mainstream superheroes do, but is instead the true ancestral self in which we are already grounded.

Cienan Muir, a Yorta Yorta/Ngarrindjeri cosplayer in Marramb-ik who describes himself as an “Indigi-nerd”, explains the unique niche occupied by Indigenous superheroes: “Indigenous heroes tend to bear some sort of mark which expresses their journey. Some also gain powers via a spiritual being identifying them as significant and a protector of the community. These markers and powers are not hidden behind any adoption of alter egos or disguises, [but] show the taking on of these new things as part of their true self.”

Beneath the surface of western pop culture there is both fascination and terror surrounding the suppressed power of the native. The superhuman abilities that might be unleashed when freed from the constraints of occupation and colonial control are hinted at by white characters with black skills. Crocodile Dundee, raised among Aborigines but a free agent due to his white privilege, is an unstoppable force with his increased kinaesthetic abilities. Captain Boomerang learns how to use just one Aboriginal weapon and it makes him a superhero. He showcases this appropriated Indigenous skill in the recent hit film Suicide Squad, a privilege not afforded to his Native American peer, Slipknot, who has no back story and sees no action as he is exterminated in the first few minutes of the squad’s mission.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Battle Lion by Indigenous Australian artist Jade Kennedy. Photograph: Jade Kennedy

Indigenous characters have evolved politically, says Muir, from the comedic characters emerging from the 1967 referendum to the anti-colonial vigilantes of the millennial generation. “During the earlier ages of comics, any Indigenous hero was seen as a mystic, such as Bishop, who was sent back in time from the future. Recently there has been a creation of heroes with powers given to them from ancient powers, such as Medicine Man and the Dreaming Gods,” he says.



Back in 1988, Australian Aboriginal characters such as Umbalaru and Betty Clawman briefly disrupted Batman and the Guardians of the Galaxy until they were neutralised, reconciled with the main protagonists and retired to obscurity. In 1998, Dark Ranger was assimilated into Batman’s Club of Heroes before fading comfortably from the memory of the DC universe. The First Nations-created characters currently emerging in popular culture have aggressively decolonising agendas. TV’s Cleverman attacks colonial and corporate power structures, while Nakkiah Lui’s play, Blackie Blackie Brown: The Traditional Owner of Death, showing at Sydney Theatre Company in 2018, portrays a black woman with super powers who hunts and kills the descendants of the colonists who massacred her ancestors. It seems that every 10 years, changes in attitudes and policy can be seen reflected in the world of comics.

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Indigenous agency in pop culture fantasy strikes at the heart of western myths of progress. Western superheroes traditionally represent the pinnacle of progress, mutations on the cusp of the next stage in evolution. Indigenous superheroes, on the other hand, turn the model of progress upside down. They present the unsettling notion that people are actually devolving in this industrial civilisation; that the height of human development – the key to knowledge and power – lies in our past rather than in some glorious, transhumanist tomorrow. Marramb-ik offers an alternative vision of future human potential grounded in engagement with the unacknowledged skills and genius of the past.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Through the Artist’s Eyes (2017) by Jade Kennedy. Photograph: Jade Kennedy

Wurundjeri curator Stacie Piper says there were unique challenges involved in conveying the complex messages of the exhibition in such a limited space, while drawing exclusively on a local talent. “There were lots of requests to include famous Aboriginal characters created by non-Aboriginal artists, but what I wanted was storytelling depicting the expressions of our Victorian Koori community,” Piper says.

Marramb-ik also pays homage to multiple generations of Aboriginal artists claiming space in a modern genre through ancient traditions of graphic storytelling, visual narrative, warrior practice and the ritualised wearing of regalia. The late Lin Onus, a Yorta Yorta man, is honoured for his trailblazing work creating cheeky, subversive characters from Kaptn Koori to the totemic duo, X and Ray.



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Jade Kennedy (Nyoongar, Muddi-Muddi, Tatti-Tatti and Waddi-Waddi) follows in Onus’s footsteps and builds upon deep knowledge of lore and ritual, incorporating traditional practices of knowledge transmission and mentoring in the learning of powerful, arcane skills. Heidi Brooks (Daingutti) and Muir share images and artefacts from their incursions into the world of cosplay, including a photograph of both of them taken with the legendary Stan Lee, arguably a senior elder in the international comic community. Also on display are the results of community workshops for children, engaging the next generation of Indigenous comic artists. A public program begins in mid-January, featuring comic workshops, cosplay and storytelling in Birrarung language.

Mainstream superheroes are generally ordinary citizens who strap on an alter ego to transform into superheroes as required. For Indigenous people, our domesticated identities are our alter egos; colonial masks donned for survival, inhibiting rather than enabling our potential. Marramb-ik strips back our assimilated identities to reveal the ancestral hero beneath the mask, leaving all visitors to ponder a troubling question: are we more than what we have become?

• Marramb-ik (I Am) is showing at Melbourne Museum until 18 February

