Who owns what in a cultural history?

The question is raised both openly and implicitly in the world premier of ‘Big Name, No Blankets’, which many will recall was the legendary first album of the Aboriginal Warumpi Band in 1985.

The five year creation of this show – presented in Sydney by Melbourne’s Ilbijerri Theatre Company and directed by Rachael Maza – was very much in the hands of the Butcher family from Papunya, especially band founder and lead guitarist, Bapa Sammy Butcher and his daughter Anyupa – who was co-writer and co-director. On stage, the character of Sammy (Baykali Ganambarr) is definitely the interpolater of events, politics and ideas. But, as anyone will know who was aware of the band’s work during its 20 year life until 2000, the dynamic front man was George Rrurrambu, the man from Elcho Island who’d married a Butcher – played by Googoorewon Knox.

Perhaps less well known, most of the songs were written by the whitefellar in the band, Neil Murray (Jackson Peele). That’s despite Warumpi’s reputation being very much based on their being the first rock’n’roll band ever to record in language – Luritja. Indeed, George’s first song with the band, after his trademark challenge to the audience, “Are you ready? ARE YOU READY???”, is in that language – hugely appreciated by the audience.

But we only hear English-language songs thereafter – with one notable exception. Blackfella/Whitefella, Stand Up and Be Counted (which we all do), and Go Bush! are belted out and cheered. Indeed, the secret behind Andrea James’s plot undoubtedly is, ‘If in doubt, sing a song’!

And it should be mentioned that while the acting band put on a good show, the music’s actually being played in the background by what’s credited as the Core Band, consisting of Gary Watling, Malcom Beveridge, Jason Butcher and Jeremiah Butcher (sons of Sammy).

Now, the very make-up of the Warumpi – its Luritja base, its Yolngu super-star and its whitey creative force – made it a model of reconciliation for the nation. And the play certainly plays on that – everyone is happy to simply say, “That’s Neil” for instance, when anyone questions the whitefellar presence.

So it seemed a little odd that the dark Arnhemland Mick Jagger (Rrarrambu) was played by a pale Tamworth boy; while Sammy the boss was in fact an actor from Elcho Island!

But they created great scenes on the road – the Warumpi played a whole pack of outback communities before recording anything and hitting the big smoke. And George’s homesickness eventually leads to a lively boat outing off Elcho. Of course, I expected that to lead into that well-known curio, ‘My Island Home’, which was obviously never a Desert song, but specifically created for Rrurrambu by Neil Murray. That was resisted.

Mind you, almost everyone forgot its origins the moment Christine Anu gave it her Torres Strait Island identity during the 2000 Olympics Closing Ceremony. And we do indeed first hear a snatch of the song in that context – producing a burst of fury from George – “Why is SHE singing MY SONG?”.

Its not a good time for George – the drink and the parties have replaced discipline in his life – which the play covers lightly. But his dispute with Neil Murray has to be there in full – and Jackson Peele’s quiet explanation that it was always his song in copyright law, and he couldn’t warn George about the Olympics because he’d signed a confidentiality agreement, have absolutely no hope of appeasing the furious, failing singer.

For Rrurrambu does indeed die, with full Yolngu honours – though not before he’s soloed his moving Gumatj language version of ‘My Island Home’, just as the real man did. He starts in a black cloak, then flings it off for his final performance in life in a startling leather Aboriginal flag outfit.

But is this an odd way to end the story of a band? Now that his brothers have both answered the call of home in the red sands of Papunya, Sammy tries to pull it together with his words. But it’s an encore of ‘Blackfella/Whitefella’ that actually sends the audience out on a high.

What a great sight to see the Ros Packer Theatre packed with Aboriginal faces wreathed in smiles – including the real Sammy Butcher, who made almost as many speeches from his seat as his character on stage!