Creative Couples: Abdul Abdullah and Amrita Hepi

Photography by Sly Morikawa
Interview by Michelle Grey

Abdul Abdullah is an Australian artist of Malay/Indonesian and convict/set- tler descent who often delves into the concept of ‘otherness’ through his diverse artistic practice. Self-identifying as ‘an outsider among outsiders’, particularly in a post-9/11 world, Abdullah’s work poignantly addresses the experiences and perceptions of marginalised groups. His unique position as a Muslim in a society wrestling with issues of identity and perception infuses his art with a distinctive perspective.

Amrita Hepi, a celebrated First Nations choreographer and dancer from the Bundjalung and Ngapuhi territories, is renowned for interdisciplinary work that transcends intersectionality. Dedicated to creating accessible, allegorical art, she explores themes of authenticity, cultural perpetuation and a ‘decolonial imagination.’ With a diverse portfolio including film, performance, sculpture and lectures, her creations always originate from the body as a source of archive, memory and resistance.

It’s been said there’s no fate worse than dating an artist, but in the case of Amrita and Abdul, their union is ignited by a joint passion for creativity and love for one another. Their conversation offers a rare glimpse into the dynamics of one of Australia’s most beloved creative couples, and how these elements fuse to inspire their individual and joint artistic endeavors.

A-M Journal: What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Amrita Hepi: I’m happiest when there’s enough space to be surprised by something; when someone I love (and trust) has made the plans and I get to be the passenger; the moment the theatre goes quiet at the start; the unhinged outfit that comes together when you’re in a different coun- try; mundane spectacle; gossip; falling back into slang and rituals with old friends; speeding past traffic on the back of a motorcycle on Sukhumvit Road [Bangkok]; working from bed; the third and last glass of wine before walking home the long way; reading in Abdul’s company; cold martini on cue; unexpected hospitality; the Teotihuacán method for time; hearing in detail about someone’s new crush; going from a hot rock into the ocean and back again with seafood accompaniment; afternoon storms; when the improv hits right; dancing in many forms; when someone puts on the right song loudly; the slow/fast feeling of time when I’m performing, or watching performance, or working on something that I’m excited/frustrated by.

Abdul Abdullah: Personally, the happiest I am, or most content, is when I’m sitting next to my wife in bed in a resort that has a view of the ocean and we’re both reading engrossing books, with nowhere else to be. Professionally, it’s when I figure out how an idea comes together for a work. Not even the moment I finish it, but that moment I think of it, and the idea becomes tangible.

AM: What is your idea of pure hell?

AH: Airports; border force; bureaucratic degradation; over administration; when you walk into a room and someone says, “This will be a great net- working opportunity.”; disorganised queues; false humility (especially when paired with patriotism or irony); being in the cold unprepared; bed bugs; sickness when traveling alone; the vitriol of this referendum; the race to innocence; glamping.

AA: I’m not a big fan of big crowds and loud noises, so even though I enjoyed them when I was younger, I would not want to go to a music festival now. That or, you know, war. I also absorb anxiety and secondhand embarrassment like a sponge, so force me to watch that type of TV comedy and I will writhe in agony.

AM: How do you give and receive constructive criticism from your partner?

AH: I think we’ve known each other for so long that criticism is necessary to continue to find out where our edges are. I don’t know, and can’t always assume, what he’s going to say – and that’s exciting! At times I have his voice in my head with work, and think about him as my audience. He’s an integral part of sounding ideas out. I know that when I propose a question, he really considers it – he’s perceptively generous with his insight, and that’s rare.

I love Abdul’s discernment and that he, of course, understands the many roles I play in life/work/love/my family. He knows that when I am excited I talk too fast, and when I am irritated I am quite staccato. He can ‘read the room of me’, even when I have just walked in the door with my hands full.

AA: I think Amrita and I have a great dynamic when it comes to discussing each other’s work. We know our boundaries, but it has taken years to develop this trust. It is important that we share our ideas with each other, and if we spot something we think needs more development, we know the earlier in the process we discuss it. I think ideas and the confidence we have in them need to be stress-tested before we set them out into the world.

“I’m happiest when when there is enough space to be surprised by something”

Amrita Hepi

AM: How would you describe your partner’s work?

AH: I think he has a hyper-awareness of the micro and the macro of im- age-making, history and how to make good art at the same time as having a sense of humour and integrity. He has the ability to create things that make people stop and look a bit longer, and I like that his audience is everyone from school children, academics and my mum and sisters to people in art fairs internationally. In short, he knows how to make an image or statement compelling without it feeling alienating – there’s directness without being derivative.

Abdul has a way of quietly absorbing things around him, which can be a burden and a blessing, but I feel it is an incredible asset; he is like a sponge. He takes his time but understands pace, humour, timing and rigour. I feel like we both use this saying a lot, but I find his work to be ‘dead serious, with a wink’. Skillful, bashful, generous, socially informed, seductive and clear. That’s his artwork, and him. I’ve always been very proud of him, and at times even a bit in awe. I’m biased and I’m a fan – I should tell him this more often.

AA: Amrita has an amazing way of distilling complex ideas into gestural works and images. Whether it’s dance, performance or more static mediums like video, installation or photography, Amrita has a commanding presence. I think she’s a master communicator.

AM: How would you describe your partner’s creative process?

AH: He takes his time to land on an idea, and it usually comes in a round- about way, whereby it’s been pottering under the surface and then is real- ised quite quickly. He has a way of doing things that are stressful/clever while making it look easy (even if he’s under pressure). But then once it’s going, it’s like tunnel vision. I don’t think I have ever met an artist who is as hardworking as Abdul is – it’s impressive. I’m ambivalent about saying ‘hard work’ as if it’s a medal and that you get a prize for working the hardest (someone give him a medal, please! in an industry that has weird and ever- shifting metrics of success. But I know for him there is a certain satisfaction that comes with being able to focus and be present in the task at hand.

Abdul is meticulous – there’s an ease to his tunneling when he’s on a roll. I have a hate/love relationship with his tunnel vision. As a colleague, I am in awe of it/happy for him. As his wife, I have to pull him out sometimes and say: “Go outside, see your friends, hang out with me!”

AA: It’s fun watching (and often listening to) Amrita work through ideas. She picks at seemingly disparate points of history and culture, and threads them into a cohesive new idea that is greater than the sum of its parts. Imagine Sherlock Holmes standing in front of a blackboard piecing together clues and evidence.

AM: What is your dream collaboration with your partner?

AH: There was an unspoken agreement from the beginning of our relationship that we would never collaborate professionally, and that has always felt liberating. We like having something for ourselves to bring to each other. But I think our greatest personal collab will be a family. Or maybe I will secretly make a short film about him, but I don’t know if that’s collabo- ration or spying. I think we would go pretty well on The Amazing Race, but I don’t know if he would agree with me on that.

AA: A baby... Haha! We agreed quite early on in our relationship, for the sake of the relationship, that we wouldn’t collaborate professionally.

AM: How has your cultural background and heritage influenced your artistic practice and the themes you explore in your work?

AH: It has given me the grounds and foundation for collaboration, questioning, resilience and humour. It has made me question ideas of authentic- ity or ‘the right way’ of doing things. It’s given me a healthy dose of scepticism, and the desire to enjoy a process as much as an outcome.

AA: In many ways it has defined my life and how I see the world, and as such has defined how and why I make work.

AM: Does your partner’s work ever inform your practice? If so, how?

AH: Of course! Abdul is way more professional than I am, and he over- thinks things, which means I get the good fortune of his neurosis. He’s also like a history encyclopedia, which in turn informs my work, and he has a great aptitude for critical compassion, which I hope wears off on me.

Even though we have vastly different experiences and practices, themati- cally there has been overlap in research and thinking, and he is my favorite person to talk to about art, among other things. Abdul gives me space and support in the same breath. I don’t really believe in luck, but I do believe in good timing, and so in this life I am grateful for us being in time together.

AA: Constantly. We talk about our ideas all the time and often there is a permeable membrane between her ideas and mine. When developing an idea, first I discuss it with my wife, and then once it’s developed further, I discuss it with my brother Abdul-Rahman [Abdullah], and my friend Jason [Phu]. They are my sounding boards. I think too many cooks definitely spoil the brew. If I hadn’t met Amrita all those years ago, I think my work would probably be completely different.