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Several hundred kilometres northeast of of Alice Springs, the land unfolded in a vast canvas of Country. We had journeyed to Arlparra over undulating, corrugated roads that wound through the arid terrain. The rhythmic rumble of the four wheel drive vehicle, a constant vibration, became a part of the Country’s song. Along the way our passage was marked by discarded car bonnets, rusted and weathered, each bearing the names of homelands, home to the Anmatyerr and Alyawarr people.

In Arlparra, the heart of the Utopia homelands, and the Sandover region, we met with Kngwarray’s family, the custodians of her legacy and the living threads connecting the present to the past. The women are not just guides; they are the keepers of stories, the interpreters of the Country’s language.

Together, we ventured further, leaving behind the familiar roads and entering a realm where the Country dictated the path. The terrain shifted, becoming a rugged expanse of rocky outcrops, hidden valleys and sacred springs: Country that demanded respect and patience.

We were shown small secrets: caves carved into the rock faces by time and weather, offering shelter and more. The women whispered stories of family members who had previously lived in these caves, among them Emily Kam Kngwarray as a girl. On occasion, they called out to their Ancestors. Once inside the hidden caves, a number of drawings – delicate lines etched into the stone – spoke to us of a connection to the Country that transcended time.

And then, there was Alharlernternerrek, the sky cave, a natural amphitheatre that seemed to reach towards the heavens. It was where earth and sky met, a place where the artist’s spirit merged with the spirit of the Country. The light that filtered through the cave’s openings painted the walls with shifting patterns, creating a dynamic, ever-changing artwork. We made our way deeper into the heart of Alhalker Country, and were introduced to a vibrant oasis amid the rocky terrain – Urlerrpel, a waterhole that pulsed with life. Dragonflies, a shimmering testament to abundance, danced across its surface, their fragile trails etching ephemeral patterns on the water’s still mirror. This small sanctuary was a jewel in the Country, resonating with the profound beauty that defines Alhalker. At the waterhole’s rocky fringe, a silent narrative unfolded. A painting, almost an engraving, was marked on the stone: Snake Dreaming, the image powerful in its subtle design.

We came to capture the Country of Alhalker but found much more than the physical landscape: the intangible spirit of Alhalker, the essence of Kngwarray’s vision, and a deep connection between art and Country. The journey was a reminder that some stories are best told not with words but with the language of the Country itself, a language spoken in the rustle of the wind, the texture of the rocks, and the shifting lights.

_{Dylan River is an award-winning Kaytetye filmmaker and photographer from Mparntwe/Alice Springs.}

_{Kelli Cole is a Warumungu and Luritja woman from Central Australia and is Director of Curatorial and Engagement, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Gallery of Australia.}

_{A longer version of this article appears in Emily Kam Kngwarray, published by National Gallery of Australia and Tate Publishing.}