For aeons the Wiradjuri roamed the barren plains west of what we now call Sydney, hunting, gathering, and dreaming. These proud people formed a spiritual connection with the land, becoming one with the mountains and trees.

And now their sinuous history has been immortalised in the form of Heart of Country. The six-metre-tall indigenous warrior stands ominously by the side of the road in Fairholme, 24km south-east of Condobolin.

So if seeing Shannon Noll‘s childhood home isn’t enough to entice you to ‘Condo’, maybe Heart of Country will convince you to head out there.

Created by Victorian artist Damian Vick, the one-tonne Corten Steel behemoth was unveiled to an intrigued public in June, 2021. Along with Varanus the Goanna in Forbes, this king-sized Koori serves as a guardian of the beloved Sculpture Down the Lachlan art trail.

“I was extremely conscious that the creation of this work rested on a delicate cultural landscape, and that it must be approached with the gravity and sensitivity it demands”, Damian pontificated. “Seeing it in its final location, standing tall, with its earthy finish was an extremely proud moment and gave a sense of finality to a sculpture that I consider the most powerful and important one of my career to date.”

Gazing, unblinking, at the tortured landscape of western NSW, Heart of Country becomes one with the red dirt. The scrub at his feet heaves with grasshoppers; the swaying trees echo with birdsong. As the fragrant outback breeze caresses the giant’s robust thighs, he reverberates with the pain and pleasure of the past.

This above-average aboriginal truly is a work of Heart.

Welcome to Country

Brutal, natural, mournful, complex; Heart of Country means something different to everyone who visits him. The experience changes depending on the weather, season and time of day. What may appear intimidating – even aggressive – during the harsh light of a summer afternoon, takes on a melancholy candor under the silvery light of a winter moon.

“Too bad the country’s heart is in the middle of nowhere,” my sidekick Gordon quipped as we rolled through Fairholme aboard the Bigsmobile. “I saw a good chimichanga shop about 200km back that would be the perfect place to put that statue.”
“Were you impressed by the chimichangas,”I grinned, “or the mamacita serving them?”

The air was hot enough to melt the sauce off a shish kebab as we pulled into the carpark. The first thing I noticed was how petite Heart of Country looks beneath the big skies of the golden west.

“It’s as if Damian was commenting on man’s immaterial insignificance,” Gordon said solemnly, climbing out of the car.

With his remote location, this is one Big that you won’t have to battle the crowds to get a photo with – and that’s a good thing. One can only appreciate Heart of Country by sitting at his feet and drinking in a millennia of culture and history.

“Geez, Gordon,” I tittered, as we posed for our photo. “With his thousand-yard-stare and spiky spear thingy, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”
“He doesn’t have a bad side,” Gordon sniffed pompously. “He truly is a work or Heart – and you can use that on your website if you like.”
“I already have, old mate,” I giggled, as we swaggered off into the bush. “I already have.”