An abiding memory for me is something thattook place during Eko’s first visit to Australia inJuly 2006, when we met with festival directorsand artists in the first two towns of Sale andLakes Entrance. While our concept had lookedpretty slick on paper, it wasn’t until Eko was sitting with Indigenous and non-Indigenousartists and community members at the SurfClub in Lakes Entrance, sharing a cup of teaand asking questions, that I understood howpowerful cultural exchange can be. As anIndigenous artist of our nearest neighbour,Indonesia, Eko was made immediately welcome– he could ask questions that might never occurto a white Australian — what sort of house didyou live in as a child? What did you eat? Didyou travel in to town? How did the townsfolktreat you? I heard an Elder explaining to Ekothat once you turn 40 in Australia, you are considered an Elder, whether you want to be ornot, because your life expectancy is about 60which means you have a relatively short timeframe to pass on knowledge to younger people,and so much knowledge has been lost in thelast 200 years. I heard Eko’s thoughtfulresponse: that the knowledge is still there, inthe landscape, the way it has always been andalways will be.Eko has a strong track record in engaging withrural communities. As an architect, he is committed to discovering locally available skillsand materials, largely because his primary interestis architecture for the poor, and this requiresthe use of recycled or readily available materials.He firmly believes that beautifully designedspaces should not just be for the rich.His housesare simply spaces that support social structures.As an installation artist he loves working withfarmers, builders, weavers and others in thecommunity to learn their techniques and workalongside them to create exceptionally beautifultemporary and permanent festival spaces.These spaces are, without exception, stronglyexpressive of local cultural identity.Common Grounddiffered from previous RAVstate-wide projects in that it was a ‘clip on’. Inthe past, RAV