Ambient slide guitar short

A short instrumental featuring slide guitar, drums, a synth pass and pad.

And on (piano and acoustic guitar cinematic style)

and on is a short instrumental featuring a nylon stringed acoustic guitar with an echo, chorus and tap reverb added to the tail, piano, and two synth pads.

Anything will do

Anything Will Do is a short instrumental piece featuring a tenor saxophone, 1 synth and a piano.

Ballroom reprieve (cinematic short)

A short cinematic styled composition featuring an edited piano phrase and synth pad.

Instilling postcolonial nostalgias : Ned Kelly narratives for children

This essay examines books for children focusing on Ned Kelly and the Kelly gang, published from 2000 to 2011. Drawing upon theories of narrative, memory and nostalgia it analyses the narrative strategies and visual images through which these texts position readers, and their investment in formulations of the Australian nation. The essay argues that these books function as exercises in restorative nostalgia, producing palatable versions of Kelly as an Australian hero, and articulating connections between the Kelly legend and Australian national identity. By foregrounding Kelly's Irishness and by representing him as a “good badman”, these Ned Kelly narratives for children, which range across fiction, non-fiction, picture book and play script, reinscribe versions of national identity which occlude more complicated narratives. In particular, their emphasis on struggles between Irish and English settlers, and between selectors and squatters, displaces Indigenous histories, colonial violence, and systemic discrimination against those deemed outsiders to the nation.

A mystery to the medical world : Florence Nightingale, Rosendo Salvado and the risk of civilisation

In 1860 Florence Nightingale conducted a study on the mortality rates of indigenous children attending native colonial schools across the British Empire. Her study was driven by the question: ‘Can we civilise the natives without killing them?’ One colonial school that participated in the survey was New Norcia Benedictine mission in Western Australia. When Rosendo Salvado, the mission’s superintendent, responded, he drew on his daily encounters with the Yuat people, his statistics on the mission residents and his Benedictine philosophy of civilisation and conversion of colonised peoples. The correspondence between Salvado and Nightingale took place in the climate of intense debates about Aboriginal health, colonisation and extinction in Britain and the colonies. While many settlers and colonial observers understood Aboriginal depopulation to be the result of either the vices and diseases of unprincipled Europeans or an unstoppable destiny, whether Divine Providence or natural selection, Nightingale and Salvado shared a belief in practical solutions to what they understood to be a practical problem. Their collaboration is an example of the humanitarian opposition to the racial pessimism of Social Darwinism. They both sought to use the recently influential intellectual discipline of social statistics to support their conviction that Aborigines, if patiently and carefully handled, would survive the admittedly risky process of civilisation.

Telescope

Telescope is a feature length time lapse of reflections, changes in sunlight of my backyard, assembled over 20 years. Telescope starts in Super 8 and ends with digital video, shot mostly while the family were themselves at work, somewhere else. It is an emptied landscape. When people think of Australia they imagine open space and bush. But really most Australians inhabit or were born in suburban spaces, often with backyards with fences, big enough for fruit trees, lawns and clotheslines. I consider this a place of absence that speaks to many things that our culture avoids.The backyard as emblem of a White Australia that hit its highpoint in the 1950s, for example. Australia is a migrant culture settled by waves of newcomers escaping, running away from somewhere else, leaving to forget. Another story concerns the continued invisibility of the indigenous people. When the British first planted the Union Jack on Australian soil and said "there is nothing here" they set up a tradition of denial as our founding principle. This still plagues us. What is festering in Australian backyards are these denials and erasures that I try to bring out in the soundtrack, that plays like the radio that meanders through a lazy Sunday afternoon. Such sounds try to tell stories of absence, of occupation, and of a nostalgia for an Australia that no longer exists, but still palpably reverberates around the suburban backyard.

Letter to a dead playwright : daily grind, Vicki Reynolds, and archive fever

’Nothing is less reliable, nothing is less clear today than the word “archive”,’ observed Jacques Derrida in his book Archive Fever: a Freudian Impression (1996). This paper reflects on the unsettling process of establishing (or commencing) an archive for the Melbourne Workers Theatre, to form part of the AusStage digital archive which records information on live performance in Australia. Glenn D'Cruz's paper juxtaposes two disparate but connected registers of writing: an open letter to a deceased Australian playwright, Vicki Reynolds, and a critical reflection on the politics of the archive with reference to Derrida's account of archive fever, which he characterizes as an ‘irrepressible desire to return to the origin, a homesickness, a nostalgia for the return to the most archaic place of absolute commencement’. Using Derrida's commentary on questions of memory, authority, inscription, hauntology, and heritage to identify some of the philosophical and ethical aporias he encountered while working on the project, D’Cruz pays particular attention to what Derrida calls the spectral structure of the archive, and stages a conversation with the ghosts that haunt the digitized Melbourne Workers Theatre documents. He also unpacks the logic of Derrida's so-called messianic account of the archive, which ‘opens out of the future’, thereby affirming the future-to-come, and unsettling the normative notion of the archive as a repository for what has passed. Glenn D’Cruz teaches at Deakin University, Australia. He is the author of Midnight's Orphans: Anglo-Indians in Post/Colonial Literature (Peter Lang, 2006) and editor of Class Act: Melbourne Workers Theatre 1987–2007 (Vulgar Press, 2007).

Element of romanticization : sensory and spatial locations in the narratives of Indian diaspora in Australia

The “element of romanticization” or the constant yearning for ones roots—sensory and spatial locations—has become a phenomenon for different immigrant groups. As it is the politics of sensory and spatial locations that act as one of the core features that join Indian Diaspora across continents. The short stories analysed in this paper attempt to provide an understanding of the variety of interpretations of the sensory and spatial locations. We can note that in most of these stories the immigrants try to bring the Indian subcontinent to Australia with them by using myths, legends, historical facts, etc. These immigrants besides using myths also display a proudest possession, which reminds them constantly of home. These objects or icons or elements from the past, which the immigrants carry with them as cultural products are used as helpers in making a sense out of the alien situation presented before them. The paper concludes with the assertion that Indian-Australian short stories act as an important expression of the Indian way of life in Australia and may also effectively help in removing misconceptions and better understandings of local conditions thus encouraging fellow Australians to see differently within the cultural context of India and Australia.

Telescope

Assembled from more than 25 years of footage, starting in Super 8 and ending with digital video, Melbourne-based experimental filmmaker Dirk de Bruyn's lens captures the comings and goings of Australian suburban life. A nostalgia-filled soundtrack accompanies footage of empty backyards, over-crowded lounge rooms and sun-drenched porches. Interspersed with line-animation, de Bruyn recalls an Australia that no longer exists in this time-lapse feature length film.

Whose culture, where and why? – Identity, culture and artistic expression

This research addresses how the visual and artistic expression represents my cultures and gendered identities. My journey mapped cultural inheritances, ancestry and postcolonial influences from home country, my childhood memories, life experiences and migration transitions to Australia. A series of my artworks represent cultural markers, a sense of belonging, nostalgia and challenges of relocation. Findings support how art expression can forge ‘affective links’ and develop pedagogies for intercultural understanding through Art Education.

Deconstructing boundaries and meaning within/across professional learning

Meaning ‘has territory … and contested boundaries’ (Stronach & Maclure, 1997, p.93), which can be created, lost, and recreated. Drawing on this notion of meaning, I undertake three readings to explore the meaning of professional learning in police education, with reference to research from my doctoral thesis. I grapple with and negotiate boundaries within each reading and across the three readings. The first reading constructs the current ‘paradigm shift’. In the second reading I challenge and deconstruct my first reading, revealing artifice, ignorance, and nostalgia as contributing to the metaphysics of presence. The third reading unfreezes and remobilises meaning through the interdependent notion of ‘certain uncertainty’. These concepts ‘lean’ on each other so that meaning is made between rather than within the words.

Who is he now? The unearthly David Bowie

The question that has led and organised this special edition on David Bowie draws provocative attention to the way his career has been narrated by the constant transformation and recasting of his star image. By asking who is he now? the edition recognises that Bowie is a chameleon figure, one who reinvents himself in and across the media and art platforms that he is found in. This process of renewal means that Bowie constantly kills himself, an artistic suicide that allows for dramatic event moments to populate his music, and for a rebirth to emerge at the same time or shortly after he expires. Bowie has killed Major Tom, Ziggy Stardust, Halloween Jack, Aladdin Sane, and the Thin White Duke to name but a few of his alter-egos. In this environment of death and resurrection, Bowie becomes a heightened, exaggerated enigma, a figure who constantly seems to be artificial or constructed and yet whose work asks us to look for his real self behind the mask – to ask the question, is this now the real Bowie that faces us? Of course, the answer is always no because Bowie is a contradictory constellation of images, stories and sounds whose star image rests on remaining an enigma, and like all stars in our midst, exists as a representation. Nonetheless, with Bowie - with this hyper- schizophrenic, confessional artist – the fan desire to get to know him, to immerse oneself in his worlds, fantasises, and projections - is particularly acute. With the unexpected release of The Next Day ((Iso/Columbia) on the 8th March 2013, the day of his 66th birthday, Bowie was resurrected again. The album and subsequent music videos drew explicitly on the question of who Bowie was and had been, creating a media frenzy around his past work, fan nostalgia for previous Bowie incarnations, and a pleasurable negotiation with his new output. In this special edition, edited by life-long Bowie fans, with contributions from die-hard Bowie aficionados, we seek to find him in the fragments and remains of what once was, and in the new enchantments of his latest work.

Art as parodic practice

Perhaps because of the pervasive sampling, remixing, rehashing and promiscuous citational blending in postmodernity, where quote marks dissolve, parody has come to be seen as a somewhat archaic concept, pertaining to cultures more stably codified and hierarchically ordered, rather than subject to the fluctuations of global markets and phantasmagoric projections affecting the flow of investment moneys. Given the anxiogenic nature of postmodernity under its various guises, willed as hypermodernityand metamodernity or supermodernity, the ideologeme ‘parody’ might be seen as nostalgic symptom in the wake of the ‘grand narratives’ (Lyotard 1984 [1979]) – a rehearsed post-apocalyptic nostalgia for a world of neo-feudalism and fiefdoms, where the seasonal lifting of prohibition for carnival brought on the ‘allowed fool’ (Shakespeare 2006) for parody’s brief upending of the hierarchical order, when high became low, mouth met anus, and wise became mad, even within the Pater Noster of the Holy Mass. (Bakhtin 1980: 78). How the revisitation of parody might illuminate contemporary cultural politics is a driving question behind this collection, a questionmade more urgent by recent global developments of terror.

Displaced metaphors: collaborative poetic responses to language in a post-physical world

This paper discusses an ongoing creative and conceptual collaboration between three authors, in which poetry has been approached as a way of exploring how lived experience and language are being transformed by the rapid evolution of virtual reality and its lexicon. We recognise, via Bakhtin, that language is always shared, in-use and redolent with multiple meanings. We acknowledge that we have written within a metaphorical space where we, as avatars of ourselves, use word processing software loaded with its own metaphors of page and print. The poems we have collaborated on have interrupted the increasing invisibility of metaphors such as ‘cloud’ and ‘screen’ as applied to technology, by working in the disjunction between metaphor and what it describes. We now reflect on the collaborative process and on the influence of technology on our practice, whilst maintaining a collaborative strategy. The paper explores the poetics of longing (Stewart) and Baudrillard’s simulacra and argues that concerns over remembering the real and the effects of nostalgia are offset by the generative potential of collaborative writing and its surprising forms of heteroglossia, which have exciting possibilities for creative practice.