Napangati’s Untitled 2011 is a phase of Dreamtime, a phasing painting whose waves undulate like Hendrix’s guitar. The painting itself forces me to see higher and higher dimensions of itself, as if layers of phase space were being superimposed on the other layers. These layers appear deep, as if I could reach my arms into them. They float in front of the picture surface. They move. The painting holds me, spellbound. The painting looks like a map or a plot in phase space, which is just what it is, in one sense: a map of how women walked across some sand hills. Yet what appears to be a map turns out to be a weapon. The painting emits spactime, emits an aesthetic field. The painting is a unit, a quantum that executes a function. It is a device, not just a map but also a tool, like a shaman’s rattle or a computer algorithm. The function of the painting seems to be to imprint me with the bright red shadow of a hyperobject, the Australian Outback, the Dreamtime, the long history of the Pintupi Nine, the Lost Tribe, some of the last Neolithic humans on Earth. (p. 74-75)
Morton, T. (2013). Hyperobjects: Philosophy and ecology after the end of the world. University of Minnesota Press.