‘Kiss and Don’t Tell’: Conversation with Maria Madeira

Inaugural Timor-Leste Pavilion at the 60th Venice Biennale
By Ian Tee

Maria Madeira. Photo by Dennis Phillip Irwin.

Advocacy for Timor-Leste’s culture and tradition is a central concern in Maria Madeira’s work as an artist, arts educator and cultural advisor. Born in the village of Gleno in the Ermera region of Timor-Leste, she escaped the violent annexation of East Timor in 1975 and spent eight years in a refugee camp in Lisbon, Portugal. She later migrated with her family to Australia in 1983.

Maria is among the founding group of contemporary East Timorese artists engaging in an artistic movement that incorporates fragments of Timorese tradition. In the 1990s, the movement was an expression of resistance against the occupation of East Timor. Today, it is a celebration of Timor-Leste identity and culture. Maria’s expansive body of work spans these themes, speaking out on dark histories such as the Santa Cruz massacre in 1991 and the abuse of Timorese women by the Indonesian military. Equally important are her efforts as an educator empowering the future generation of artists and her research on the intangible heritage of East Timor.

I speak to Maria on the occasion of her solo presentation ‘Kiss and Don’t Tell’ (2024) in the Timor-Leste pavilion at the 60th Venice Biennale. She is the first artist to represent the young country at the major international platform, as it marks its 25th year of independence. Curated by Professor Natalie King, ‘Kiss and Don’t Tell’ draws from tales of matrilineal survival and resistance, in homage to the voiceless women of Timor-Leste.

Maria performing with Coro Loro Sa’e, Wales Choir Festival, c. 1982. Photo from the artist’s collection.

Maria (left) and sister Celina Diana Madeira Neves singing with Coro Loro Sa'e, Wales Choir Festival, c. 1982. Photo from the artist’s collection.

Looking back, could you share a decision or event that marked a significant moment in your path as an artist? 

I think the path to becoming an artist was a natural progression. But there were enlightening moments like when I painted and performed with a choir. For instance, I used to draw and sketch regularly. Every time I created, I felt a sense of peace and belonging. The feeling was also reinforced when I performed. Whilst in the refugee camp, I became a member of a successful young East Timorese choir called Coro Loro Sa’e (Sunrise Choir), which was composed of up to 30 young girls who were daughters of the refugee families residing in Portugal. The choir was closely guided by the elders and community leaders, and performed extensively throughout Portugal and the neighbouring countries. 

It was my understanding that the main objective of the choir was to strengthen Timor-Leste’s cultural identity and share it with other societies. During cultural and community events such as fairs, I noticed that when traditional songs and dances were performed, it frequently evoked emotional responses such as sadness and pride from both the East Timorese people and some members of the international community. This kind of reaction made me recognise the value, impact, and power of creative language. 

Consequently, I became aware that apart from traditional East Timorese music, visual arts could also become an effective and efficient way of exposing our troubles and restoring some sense of belonging. 

Maria with tais weaver in Viqueque, Timor-Leste, 2009. Photo By David Palazon.

Your PhD thesis ‘Women’s Contribution to Timor-Leste’s Art and Culture’ (2018) traces the development of Timor-Leste’s visual art practices from its pre-colonial origin to the present day from a female artistic viewpoint. How has the research process impacted your outlook? 

Through my research in Timor-Leste, the amazing work done by women especially in the areas of art and culture was something that often came up. I also started to notice their impact in relation to Timor-Leste’s visual art practices. 

This find made me realise the importance of contemporary visual arts language. This is to ensure that the artistic and cultural pathway of our ancestors continues for generations to come. Such realisations have also given me more courage to continue developing my artistic career, and to speak out.

Maria Madeira (right) with Dona Verónica Pereira Maia at the opening of ‘Elastic Borracha’ (2014) at Contemporary Art Space in Darwin, Australia. Photo from the artist’s collection.

A significant aspect of your thesis is dedicated to the impact of the textile industry on the artistic practices of Timor-Leste artists such as Dona Verónica Pereira Maia, Albertina Viegas, and yourself. Could you elaborate on the relationship between tais and what you termed “the essence of the feminine”?

Tais is a traditional hand-woven fabric of great importance and plays a fundamental role in Timor-Leste’s cultural identity. It is also crucial to the economic and cultural development of Timor-Leste society. 

Tais is produced in two main styles, male and female. The tais mane (male) is a large piece of cloth worn in sarong-style around the man’s waist; and the tais feto (female) has the ends of the cloth sewn together into a long tube which a woman steps into and wears like a dress. Many of these textiles are considered lulik (sacred) to the locals, and are produced for special occasions such as traditional sacred ceremonies or the bridal price, where the tais depicts the history of the families whom the marriage has brought together. The symbols, images and patterns expressed in these cloths can sometimes tell a story, sometimes to record an event. 

The women take their time to produce these items, and the production routine is rotated between making the tais and agricultural activities. It is generally a time-consuming activity, often requiring a minimum of approximately eight months to two years to make each tais, depending on its significance and purpose. 

Although Timor-Leste is a patriarchal society, I consider its cultural language to be highly influenced by women. This is evident in the traces of inherited making/ knowledge of the women and female elders working with their hands to produce traditional arts and crafts. I believe that the fingerprints of foremothers are embedded in the roots of our motherland.

So, for me, Timor-Leste art and cultural language contains the essence of femininity. Here, the essence of femininity, the feminine, or femaleness, is attributed to the current tangible, such as textiles, ceramics and basketry, and the intangible, such as the spiritual, animist, and sacred traditions and ceremonies. The history of arts and cultural practices reflect the important contributions by women in Timor-Leste. 

“I believe that the fingerprints of foremothers are embedded in the roots of our motherland.”

Maria and her father Matias Madeira working on Kaibauk sculpture, unknown date. Photo by Dennis Phillip Irwin.

Maria Madeira in collaboration with Matias Madeira, ‘Traveller (Lao Rai)’, 2010, mixed media, 80 x 115 x 400cm. Photo by David Palazón. Image courtesy of Maria Madeira.

Could you walk us through a typical work day, or a typical week? What routine do you follow to nourish yourself/your artistic practice?

I feel blessed to be able to create every day. I deem my artistic practice as my daily job which I am passionate about. Because I perceive it as a job, it is easy for me to be motivated and create every day. I work up to five days a week, 6 to 10 hours daily, and the rest of my time is spent with family and friends.

Could you describe your studio/ working space and how it has evolved over the years to become what it is today? What do you enjoy about it, and what do you wish to improve?

I wish I could describe my working space to you, because sadly I do not have a dedicated art studio space “yet”. I am still painting in my family room, just as I have over the years, even when I was living with my parents. The next big step is to build/ create my first art studio.

What has become easier or more difficult to do as time has gone by?

As time has gone by, it has become much easier to present my artistic work. I feel more confident as an artist in having exhibitions, giving presentations, running workshops etc. I also better understand how critical each step of the journey can be, in terms of creating awareness and fostering creative thinking processes. Importantly, it has been much easier to have faith in my creative instinct. I feel more grounded as an artist.

In terms of difficulties, it has been more challenging to grow with my work, especially now that I feel that I have a more critical role in helping to develop Timor-Leste’s arts and cultural discourse. I have to be more responsible and focused with my practice.

Maria Madeira, ‘Kiss & Don’t Tell’ (Rei e labele koalia I & II), 2007, acrylic, gesso, impasto, gel, glue, lipstick, tais on canvas, four panels 76 x 61cm each. Photo by David Palazón. Image courtesy of Maria Madeira.

Your Timor-Leste pavilion presentation ‘Kiss and Don’t Tell’ (2024) shares the same title as an earlier mixed media on canvas work ‘Rai Labele Koalia (Kiss and Don’t Tell)’ (2007). Are they connected? If so, how have the ideas developed into this new presentation?

Yes, the installation work that is to be exhibited at the Venice Biennale is an extension from an earlier work with the same title. The main objective of this extension is to show the core and speak out about the story behind ‘Kiss and Don’t Tell’. For example, a part of the installation is a performance of this story line. I hope this will give the audience a better sense of what happened in Timor-Leste.

Maria Madeira and curator Professor Natalie King, in the Timor-Leste Pavilion at the 60th Venice Biennale, 2024. Photo by Cristiano Corte. Image courtesy of the artist and Anna Schwartz Gallery, Australia.

Maria Madeira, ‘Kiss and Don’t Tell’, 2024, performance and installation, Timor-Leste Pavilion at the 60th Venice Biennale. Photo by Cristiano Corte. Image courtesy of the artist and Anna Schwartz Gallery, Australia.

This site-specific installation is rich in its use of local materials such as tais, betelnut, earth and pigments; and there is also a performative element. For audiences who are not able to be there in person, could you describe the space and the significance of your performative gestures?

Because this installation tells an East Timorese story, I thought that it was important to use materials that are familiar to the local population such as tais, betel nut, red earth etc. I believe that this approach will generate interest not only from the East Timorese but also  people of other societies. 

This installation compromises 25 panel paintings, measuring a metre by three metres each,  that will cover the whole room like wallpaper. The imagery shows a wall filled with lipstick at a linear knee-high position all around the room. 

In addition, I will perform my storytelling, where I will also put on lipstick  and kiss the wall. The performance will be filmed and shown at the exhibition together with the installation throughout the biennale.

Maria Madeira, ‘270+ Massakre Santa Cruz Nian (270+ Massacre de Santa Cruz; The Santa Cruz Massacre)’, 1996, mixed media sculpture in metal, 350 x 350cm. Photo by David Palazón. Image courtesy of Maria Madeira.

In thinking about the biennale theme ‘Stranieri Ovunque - Foreigners Everywhere’, I thought it is important to highlight your experiences in exile in Portugal (1976-83) then Australia (1983-2000). Has your relationship with Timor-Leste changed over time? And what does “home” mean to you? 

I was very happy when I heard about the theme of the Venice Biennale because I felt that it suited the subject of my work. Being a refugee from a young age, there was often this sense of not belonging. Everything was great in Timor-Leste, until the invasion by Indonesia changed everything. Many East Timorese families, including mine, ended up in an impoverished refugee camp in the outskirts of Lisbon. We were forced to leave Timor and had to face a new confusing reality. But there were also times of enlightenment because my involvement in cultural and sport activities made me feel a sense of belonging. Throughout my time at the refugee camp, I thought that life had to be better than this. And that better life came when my family and I migrated to Perth in August 1983. I was determined to take advantage of any opportunity, I pursued my education and finally graduated in 2019 with my PhD.

With regards to Timor-Leste, nothing has significantly changed except for an overwhelming awareness of how much help is needed to grow its current arts and cultural discourse. In this sense, I feel that “home” means being a part of change whether I am in Timor, Australia or Portugal. I often refer to these three countries as: Timor-Leste – Mother; Portugal – God Mother; and Australia as Adopted Mother.

Maria teaching Arte Moris students to paint with betel nut. Photo taken in Dili, Timor-Leste, 2008. Image courtesy of Maria Madeira.

“I feel that “home” means being a part of change whether I am in Timor, Australia or Portugal. I often refer to these three countries as: Timor-Leste – Mother; Portugal – God Mother; and Australia as Adopted Mother.”

Maria giving a speech at the opening of her exhibition ‘Flowery Talk’, Dili, Timor-Leste, 2023. Photo by Juventino Madeira. Image courtesy of Maria Madeira.

What do you think has been/is your purpose? And how has it kept you going?

Contemporary East Timorese visual artists including myself have great opportunities for the future, and this is something that we cannot ignore. I consider that part of my journey is to help by guiding, mentoring, educating, creating awareness, and so forth. Hence, my main purpose is twofold. On a personal level, I aim to grow and develop better as a visual artist. On a professional level, I intend to help and contribute to the development of Timor-Leste’s present-day visual arts practice.

Being a qualified art teacher, a female visual artist with more than 30 years of experience, and the first and only East Timorese, male or female, to pursue postgraduate studies in visual arts has put me in a good position to speak out. In addition, I grew up between two worlds, and as an East Timorese living abroad, I managed to acquire awareness and understanding from two different perspectives. As such, I am able to communicate between different cultures, especially on the subject of how Timor-Leste contemporary artists express themselves.

What would be a key piece of advice to young art practitioners (artist, curator, manager etc.)? 

My key piece of advice is that art is part of life. If you are serious about pursuing your artistic career, follow your passion and do not give up.

This interview has been edited. ‘Maria Madeira: Kiss and Don’t Tell’ is on view at the Timor-Leste Pavilion at the 60th International Venice Biennale from 20 April to 24 November 2024. 

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