Emily Kame Kngwarreye’s Exhibition Legacy: What Came Before the Tate Show?
As the Tate Modern prepares to present its major survey of Emily Kame Kngwarreye’s work, it’s essential to look back at the exhibitions that have shaped how her legacy has been understood - and how that legacy continues to evolve. In particular, we take a close look at the 2023 National Gallery of Australia (NGA) retrospective, which forms the foundation of the upcoming Tate show.

One of the most important exhibitions in Emily’s legacy to date was the 2008 exhibition Utopia: The Genius of Emily Kame Kngwarreye, developed by the National Museum of Australia and presented at major galleries in Japan before returning to Canberra.
Showcasing 120 works drawn from over 60 public, private, and corporate collections, it was the most comprehensive exhibition of Emily’s work ever assembled to that point. It charted the full arc of her brief but explosive career, from her first canvas in 1988 to her final works in 1996, revealing a deep visual and conceptual continuity from beginning to end.
This exhibition was not just about the paintings themselves. It was grounded in community, supported by an Indigenous reference group, and shaped by extensive consultation. A key figure in that process was Barbara Weir, Emily’s niece and a respected artist.
Fluent in language and protocol, Barbara played a critical role in connecting the curatorial team to the right people, places, and stories - even during a politically fraught time in the Northern Territory. She introduced curator Margo Ngawa Neale and the Ronin Films team to senior custodians and close relatives, helped secure invaluable cultural content, and smoothed the path for respectful engagement.
Barbara passed away in January 2023, just before the NGA exhibition opened. While she was no longer with us to participate in this latest project, the consultative process had already been underway for some time. Her absence is deeply felt - not only because of her pivotal role in past exhibitions, but because she was an extraordinary woman, artist, and cultural bridge.
Her son, Fred Torres, a trailblazing Indigenous art dealer, also contributed significantly to the 2008 project. Both Barbara and Fred travelled to Japan for the opening alongside artist Gloria Petyarre, representing Utopia with strength and pride. Gloria performed songs and dances connected to Emily’s Country, giving many Japanese visitors their first experience of Aboriginal culture. Their presence was more than symbolic -it was an embodiment of the community connection that underpins Emily’s work.
It is striking, then, to note the absence of these same figures from the NGA’s 2023 retrospective and the forthcoming Tate exhibition. Despite Fred’s pioneering role and the fact that his collection formed part of the 2008 show, he is not acknowledged in the 2023 catalogue. Nor is Margo Neale, who curated both the 1998 and 2008 retrospectives. What does it say when those who helped shape and protect Emily’s legacy are no longer part of the conversation?

Some photos of the 2023 NGA Exhibition
Curatorial choices shape public perception. One of the most glaring aspects of the 2023 NGA retrospective was the omission of three major milestones in Emily’s career: Earth’s Creation (1994), her remarkable Final Series of 24 small paintings completed in just three days, and the absence of Emily's Wall (1994–95), a monumental project conceived and commissioned by prominent art dealer and collector Hank Ebes.
Emily's Wall was painted over the course of a year and depicts a seasonal cycle in Kngwarreye’s Country. Each work was completed in a single week, resulting in an expansive, immersive body of fifty panels that flank a monumental centrepiece, with additional long, narrow works representing the wet and dry seasons. Before work commenced, the consent of Traditional Owner Greeny Purvis Petyarre was sought and granted - a significant act of cultural authority and respect. The project was carefully documented, including Emily’s process of mapping out the sequence of the wall. The scale and ambition of this work is extraordinary, and Tate Modern - one of the few galleries with walls large enough to accommodate it - would have been an ideal venue to showcase such a masterpiece.
The NGA’s own multi-panel work, The Alhalker Suite (1993), is justifiably admired and forms a key part of their display. Yet one cannot help but wonder what it might have meant to include both of these major wall installations in the Tate show. What an extraordinary opportunity it could have been for audiences to experience the breadth of Emily’s vision through these two monumental projects, each underpinned by meaningful consultation and storytelling.
Earth’s Creation is arguably Emily’s most famous and monumental painting - acclaimed for its power, scale, and expressive energy. Its absence from the exhibition is perplexing, particularly given that there appears to be no issues surrounding authenticity or access. The work is currently held by respected collectors Nicola and Andrew Forrest and has been widely exhibited. If provenance is the concern - as some have suggested - it raises uncomfortable questions about curatorial gatekeeping and whether artworks are being assessed by their market path rather than their merit.
Equally troubling is the omission of Emily’s Final Series. These 24 paintings, completed shortly before her passing, offer an emotionally resonant conclusion to her career. One of these works was prominent enough to grace the cover of the 2008 Japanese catalogue, yet the entire series is absent from both the 2023 NGA show and the upcoming Tate exhibition. The result is a narrative that ends abruptly, severing a vital chapter of Emily’s creative journey.

A selection of 'The Final Series' hung at The Lume Exhibition, 2023 & the 2008 Exhibition Catalogue Cover
If the goal is to present a true retrospective, these exclusions are difficult to reconcile. The public loses out - not only on seeing some of Emily’s most profound works, but also on understanding the full arc of her practice. When curators allow biases around provenance or artist representation to dictate inclusion, it is ultimately the artist’s legacy that suffers.
These are especially pressing questions when one considers the change in the spelling of Emily’s name. The 2023 NGA and Tate exhibitions have adopted the spelling "Emily Kam Kngwarray," a decision that has caused division. While curators say the change reflects linguistic standards and community consultation, others have questioned whether the artist’s own wishes have been respected.
Margo Ngawa Neale, who curated Emily’s 1998 and 2008 retrospectives and worked closely with her, has stated that Emily was adamant her name remain unchanged. She was aware that linguists might try to alter it posthumously, but insisted it stay the same - because that was the name the world knew her by. Neale considered it supremely disrespectful to override that wish.
Her gravestone, after all, reads “Emily Kame Kngwarreye” - a lasting and personal testament to how she wanted to be remembered. For her family, this isn’t just a question of orthography; it’s about legacy, love, and respect. Are we witnessing a situation where academic accuracy is being prioritised over the personal - over the wishes of the artist herself and her family, who knew and loved her?
Charmaine Pwerle, Barbara Weir’s daughter, is another glaring omission. A highly accomplished artist and initiated woman in her own right, Charmaine grew up on Country, worked with the Urapuntja Land Council, and witnessed Emily painting firsthand. She has also worked for a leading Melbourne gallery, served as a Director and Member of the Aboriginal Cultural Council for the Aboriginal Art Association of Australia, and has long been an active advocate for artists' rights and industry standards.
Despite this deep connection to both community and the art world, Charmaine is not included in the curatorial framework of the current exhibitions. Instead, Emily’s legacy is largely presented through the lens of the newly established Utopia Art Centre, which only opened in 2020.
While the centre describes itself as providing a safe and ethical space for artists - particularly in contrast to past dealer-led models - Utopia has historically been a region defined by its independent artists and self-determination. Emily herself chose to work independently, as do many others.
To present her legacy solely through the voices of a small and recent subset of that community, while excluding influential independent artists like Charmaine, seems an unfortunate narrowing of perspective. It would have been powerful to include her voice in the dialogue - both as someone shaped by Emily’s legacy, and as someone shaping the future of Utopia art. Her omission feels less about merit, and more about method - how she chooses to work - and that, in itself, raises important questions about inclusivity and representation.
Even the claim that this is the "first time European audiences will experience a comprehensive showcase" of Emily’s work is worth questioning. In 1999, renowned collector Hank Ebes curated a major exhibition of Emily’s work at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk. The show drew massive crowds and was a significant moment for Aboriginal art in Europe. Yet neither that exhibition nor Ebes' works are referenced in the current narrative.
The 2023 NGA retrospective catalogue includes a timeline described as a "selected overview of the events impacting and shaping Emily's life." While it doesn’t aim to list every exhibition, the omission of a major early solo European show is nonetheless surprising. Especially when compared to the inclusion of more recent developments, like the establishment of the Utopia Art Centre in 2020.
And while the 2022 exhibition Emily: Desert Painter of Australia at Gagosian Paris is included in the timeline, it raises another important question: is this Tate Modern exhibition truly the "first" of its kind in Europe - or simply the first since the global market’s interest in Emily’s work has surged? Once again, we are left wondering whether curatorial choices are subtly privileging certain forms of provenance or institutional relationships over others.
None of these observations are meant to diminish the importance of the Tate show. Our greatest hope is to see Aboriginal art appreciated, celebrated, and understood globally. We believe that exhibitions like this have the power to shape how the world sees Indigenous art and culture.
But with that power comes responsibility - to ensure that representation is inclusive, consultation is genuine, and the most significant works and voices are honoured.
We don’t raise these questions to divide or criticise for the sake of it. We raise them because we believe constructive critique is essential if we want to grow as an industry and do justice to the legacies we are privileged to present.
Members of the Kate Owen Gallery team will be visiting the Tate show, and will share their personal reflections on the exhibition in the next article in this series. If you happen to be visiting the Tate Modern and see the show for yourself, we’d love to hear your thoughts too. Feel free to reach out at hello@kateowengallery.com.