Wandjina, cloud figures of the Worora, Ngarinyin and Wunambal in the Kimberley region

Wandjina (also Wanjina, Wondjina) are collective creation figures of the Aboriginal religions of the Kimberley region in north-west Australia. Three language groups, the Worora, Ngarinyin and Wunambal, share the Wandjina complex; together they hold the rock paintings preserved in the Kimberley gorges in their thousands.

Wandjina are cloud and rain beings who moved through the land in the mythical Lalai time (the Kimberley variant of the Dreaming) and shaped it. Unlike the Rainbow Serpent, which appears as a single figure, the Wandjina are a multitude of beings with individual names and tribal affiliations.

Within the Aboriginal tradition, the Wandjina are particularly well known for their iconographic distinctiveness: they are depicted with large eyes, an absent mouth and a halo-like headdress, a pictorial form unique in Aboriginal art.

The name Wandjina is preserved in the three Kimberley languages, with small phonetic variations. A single etymological derivation is disputed; in 1968 Ian Crawford proposed a link with a verb meaning “to appear, to show oneself,” which fits the mythology of the Wandjina as beings who materialise.

Other researchers (Andreas Lommel, Helmut Petri) have associated the name with the notion of “the one who watches over us.” Both etymologies are defensible in terms of language history and may have operated together historically.

In the earliest European sources (George Grey 1838, the first European to document Wandjina rock paintings), the name is rendered incorrectly as “Wonjina.” This spelling persisted in some Victorian texts but has since been superseded.

Wandjina iconography is one of the most distinctive in Aboriginal art.

Its characteristic features are: large, dark eyes without pupils; a broad nose; the absence of a mouth (explained by the idea that a Wandjina mouth would flood the world); a halo-like headdress representing rain clouds and lightning; and often an extensive painting of the body in red, yellow and white.

This iconography has been attested on the rock paintings of the Kimberley for at least 4,000 years; it emerged later than the older, thin figures known as “Gwion-Gwion.” In The Art of the Wandjina (Oxford 1968), Ian Crawford set out the iconographic chronology systematically.

In present-day Aboriginal art, Wandjina continue to be painted by the three named tribal groups in acrylic, on bark and on paper. The Mowanjum artists’ association in Derby (founded 1973) is one of the most important centres of this tradition.

The most important Wandjina narrative tells of a “Great Flood” (Galagari) in the Lalai time: the Wandjina came, the world was chaotic, they ordered it through their torrents, established the present-day topography and gave people the tribal laws.

Once their work was done, they “painted themselves onto the rocks,” that is, they transformed into the present-day rock paintings.

A second narrative describes a conflict between different Wandjina groups that ends with the onset of the dry season. This aetiological myth explains the climate of the Kimberley: the rainy “Wet Season” and the dry “Dry Season” as a cosmic alternation.

In Places that Move (2005), Anthony Redmond presented a particularly precise record of several Wandjina narratives from the Ngarinyin tradition. These records are a methodological model for the collaborative ethnography of contemporary Aboriginal research.

The central ritual practice is the annual renewal of the Wandjina rock paintings (repainting). Before the rainy season, tribal elders of the Worora, Ngarinyin and Wunambal visit the rock-painting sites and repaint the Wandjina with fresh colours.

This ritual is not merely conservation but active religious renewal; the Wandjina remain “awake” through the repainting.

Ritual responsibility for a particular Wandjina image is hereditary and follows complex kinship rules. Whoever bears the responsibility is also responsible for the region in which that Wandjina image lies, a direct link between ritual right and land right.

In the 1990s a conflict arose when the non-Indigenous artist Vesna Tenodi publicly exhibited figures resembling Wandjina; the Mowanjum artists protested and the conflict ended in the Australian courts, an instructive example of the legal dispute over Indigenous image rights.

Described in religious-studies terms: protective practice within the Wandjina complex aims at preserving the rock-painting sites and observing the corresponding rules of conduct. Unauthorised persons may not enter the sites, photograph them or touch them. Breaking these taboos is regarded, within the tradition, as a trigger for storms, illnesses and social conflicts.

A particular apotropaic practice is the invocation of a Wandjina before the start of the rainy season: the elders visit the sites, speak with the Wandjina and “ask” them for orderly rain. This rite can be described in religious-studies terms as a practice, without any promises of efficacy being made.

From the external ethnographic perspective, these practices are everyday-structuring rules that embody collective responsibility for Country (in the sense of Deborah Bird Rose).

Cloud and rain creation beings are widely attested from the perspective of the phenomenology of religion. Structurally comparable are: Tlaloc and Chac in Mesoamerica; Indra in his rain function in India; Baal in ancient Syrian religion; Tāwhirimātea in Polynesia; and several Apus with weather power in the Andes.

Despite these parallels, the Wandjina are unique in the history of religion through their collective multitude, their iconographic distinctiveness (mouthlessness) and their complete integration into a specific topographical practice. They are not a “rain god” but cloud beings who are land and weather at the same time.

From the standpoint of the phenomenology of religion, it is interesting to observe that the mouthlessness of the Wandjina follows an explicit mythological rationale: a Wandjina with a mouth would cause a torrent. Such self-referential pictorial theology is rare in the history of religion.

The most important early works are George Grey’s travel account (1841), Andreas Lommel’s Die Unambal (1952), Helmut Petri’s Sterbende Welt in Nordwest-Australien (1954) and Ian Crawford’s The Art of the Wandjina (Oxford 1968). Anthony Redmond’s contemporary work complements this older tradition.

The Wandjina are internationally known today through the Mowanjum artists’ association and through the annual Mowanjum Festival in Derby, which brings the three tribal groups together. In religious-studies terms this association is of interest because it combines traditional practice and modern marketing without abandoning religious substance.

An important contemporary line of research links the Wandjina tradition with the land-rights processes since the Mabo judgment of 1992. Here the religious significance of the Wandjina rock paintings has become a legal argumentative figure.

Several research debates surround the Wandjina. First: what is the relationship of the Wandjina to the older Gwion-Gwion rock paintings? An older thesis (Lommel) saw in the Gwion-Gwion a predecessor tradition; more recent research (Crawford, Crocombe) is more cautious on this point.

Second: what relationships exist between the Wandjina and the pan-Aboriginal Rainbow Serpent tradition? Anthony Redmond proposes a partial integration; Tony Swain warns against sweeping pan-Aboriginal hypotheses.

Third: how is the Wandjina tradition changing through the global art market? Howard Morphy’s concept of “Becoming Art” is a central theoretical reference point here.

The repainting ritual as a religious practice deserves particular attention. The ritual renewal of the rock paintings has a twofold function: physically it keeps the images visible over millennia, religiously it keeps the Wandjina “awake” and in relationship with the living community.

Research long understood the repainting as mere conservation; only since the 1990s, in particular through Anthony Redmond’s work, has it been recognised as an integral religious practice. This recognition has consequences for the handling of the rock paintings by Western conservators: if repainting is prevented, the Wandjina are “killed” in the traditional sense.

From the standpoint of the phenomenology of religion, repainting is an example of “living religious materiality”: religious objects are not merely bearers of meaning but active agents kept alive through ritual action.

A current research perspective links the Wandjina with the Australian land-rights processes. Since the Mabo judgment of 1992 and the subsequent Native Title Act 1993, Aboriginal groups have been able to assert land claims on the basis of traditional connections. The Wandjina rock paintings have become a legal argumentative figure in this context.

Several Wandjina-related land-rights cases have been concluded successfully; the Worora, Ngarinyin and Wunambal groups today hold substantial land rights in the Kimberley region. Anthony Redmond has described the religious and legal significance of these processes in several essays.

From the standpoint of the sociology of religion, this connection is an instructive example: religion becomes a legally effective category without giving up its religious character. This interweaving is central to contemporary Aboriginal research.

Several methodological problems arise in Wandjina research. First: the most important early sources (George Grey, Andreas Lommel) are shaped by colonial prejudices; their statements must be read critically. Ian Crawford’s The Art of the Wandjina (1968) is a methodological turning point here.

Second: much Wandjina knowledge is “restricted” and may not be made publicly accessible. Contemporary research practises an ethic of “informed consent”: what is published is done in consultation with the traditional owners. This practice has been standard since the 1990s.

Third: the Wandjina self-representation by Indigenous researchers, artists and activists is a source level of its own. Donny Woolagoodja, Mark Crocombe and other contemporary voices from the Mowanjum association complement the external academic perspective.

A broader religious-studies classification of the Wandjina within the framework of north-west Australian Aboriginal religion is offered by the hub Aboriginal tradition. There you will find cross-references to closely related groups of figures: the ophidian Rainbow Serpent, the lightning personification Namarrkon, and the thin-lined shadow beings of the Mimi spirits.

The Mowanjum artists’ community in Derby, Western Australia, deserves particular attention. Mowanjum (founded 1973) is an association of the Worora, Ngarinyin and Wunambal communities. It maintains the Wandjina tradition through art, education and festival culture.

The annual Mowanjum Festival, held since 1997, is one of the most important Aboriginal festival-culture events in Australia. It brings the three tribal groups together in shared dances, songs and Wandjina invocations.

From the standpoint of the sociology of religion, Mowanjum is an instructive example of contemporary Aboriginal self-organisation. Religious tradition, economic sustainability and political representation are combined here in an integrated structure.

A research direction of its own examines the position of Wandjina art in the global art market. Since the 1980s, Wandjina-related works have been exhibited and traded internationally; some achieve high prices.

This commercial exploitation is ambivalent from the standpoint of the sociology of religion. On the one hand it secures the economic survival of the Aboriginal communities; on the other it transforms secret religious content into marketable objects.

The Mowanjum association has developed mechanisms for dealing with this tension, for example through certified “Land of the Wandjina” labels.

Anthony Redmond has discussed the ethical implications of this art marketing in several essays. His work is methodologically pioneering for contemporary Aboriginal art ethnology.

Since the Mabo judgment of the Australian High Court in 1992, Aboriginal groups have been able to assert land claims on the basis of traditional connections. The Wandjina rock paintings have become a legal argumentative figure in this context; they are the visual testimony of a continuous connection to the land.

A number of land-rights proceedings with a Wandjina connection have now been concluded successfully; extensive land rights in the Kimberley region have been granted to the Worora, Ngarinyin and Wunambal. Anthony Redmond has described the religious and legal dimensions of these processes in detail.

From the standpoint of the sociology of religion, this case shows in exemplary fashion how religion can become a legally robust category without losing its religious content. For contemporary Australian legal practice this is an innovation whose implications reach far beyond the Wandjina region.

Contemporary Wandjina research follows a strict research ethic. Since the 1990s, the “informed consent” practice has been standard: scholarly work is agreed with the traditional owners, sensitive content is not published, and Indigenous authorship is acknowledged.

Anthony Redmond is particularly pioneering here in methodological terms. His work is a model for collaborative ethnography that combines scholarly standards and cultural sensitivity. Other researchers (Howard Morphy, Mark Crocombe) follow similar standards.

This ethic protects not only the religious substance but also the quality of the scholarly research. It avoids the distortions that were frequent in older colonial ethnography and enables a more differentiated grasp of the Wandjina tradition.

A particular debate surrounds the repainting of the Wandjina rock paintings. Western conservators long understood the repainting of traditional images as “damage”; from the Indigenous perspective, by contrast, repainting is part of the religious practice.

In the 1990s this tension became visible in exemplary fashion in a dispute over the Wandjina site “Munja”: a Western restoration initiative was rejected by the traditional owners; instead they carried out a traditional repainting. This decision was later recognised as methodologically pioneering.

Today the conservation of the Wandjina sites follows the traditional rules. Western scholars cooperate with the traditional owners; the repainting is respected as a religious practice. This cooperation is a model for similar situations worldwide.