Daniel Green

Born 1984, Westmead
Bachelor of Fine Arts (Hons)
Graduation show: 2004, 2005 (Hons)
Graduation ceremony: 2006


Artwork in Space YZ

This is More, 2004
Single channel video with sound
2:05 mins
Camera: Stephen Fox

A young man, captivated by his own gaze, dances publicly while waging war with an ice cream. He is oblivious to the wider world, which simply ticks by on the screen, where other people have bigger problems.

…

This Is More started as one simple idea. Adam Costenoble, Stephen Fox and I were in Melbourne for an exhibition opening, and we found ourselves with time to kill before we needed to head to the airport. Fascinated with the CCTV feeds that would occasionally pop up on the screen in Federation Square, I vowed that I would wait for a feed to appear, put myself in front of it, and play air guitar.  

When the moment arrived, I quickly thrust my video camera into Stephen’s hands and leapt into action; frantically running across Federation Square to find the feed, all the while still holding the ice cream I was eating. I performed in front of several bemused bystanders, covered my clothes in chocolate, and simply walked away when the feed changed. 

At the time, I thought the value of the work lay purely in the juxtaposition of what I was doing against the melancholy of Bill Murray’s performance of More Than This from Lost In Translation. But it was Ann Finegan who first made me aware of the news ticker running across the bottom of the screen throughout the work, speaking of far more important matters outside of my attention seeking. I remember being surprised at the idea that this was my intention, but it would take many years for me to internalise that the tensions between these elements, accident or not, served the work.

Like performing air guitar whilst holding an ice cream cone, sometimes you’re not in control of what happens once the action is over.

Standing on a netball court in London last New Year’s Eve, Stephen Fox and I talked about art school. Stephen lamented the lack of documentation from his works at the time, and that if he could go back and do it again, he'd take more photographs.

I thought about this. Of the hours of footage on Mini DV tapes sitting in a box in Glebe containing remnants of gigs and parties and exhibitions and band rehearsals and half-finished ideas. And the blurry images and low resolution video stills strewn across several hard drives I still have, along with the project files to redundant video software. As I thought about this, I realised Stephen might just have a point.

I can no longer tell you what exactly is on those tapes and hard drives, but I can tell you about the mental whiplash of watching Politikal Graphitti's performance at the 2002 Grad Show, and spending the summer endlessly listening to their track Oprah Song. Or I could tell you about the time that Terry Hayes climbed across a whiteboard during a lecture, or how I stood outside Penrith station clutching a reading as I tried to grasp why The Situationists wanted to install switches on telegraph poles – a concept which informs my practice to this day.

I still think about how Debra Porch would not let you get away with describing something as “kitsch"* unless you could accurately define what kitsch was; and how I tried to argue with Ann Finegan over whether or not the author was, indeed, actually dead.** There are a thousand other memories that will come to the fore the moment I send this. As I write, occasionally one will snap into focus for a brief second; presenting itself in sharper detail than any camera I could have placed my hands on at the time.

I was lucky to get into the Bachelor of Fine Arts degree. Having not performed as well in the HSC as I desired, I was offered an interview slot by an unsuspecting phone operator as somehow the program still had places for the 2002 intake. When I showed up to my appointment with Nolene Lucas, I was armed only with an HSC Drama portfolio, some below average examples of screen printing and a copy of John Berger's Ways of Seeing. My plan was to transfer into the Theatre Theory & Practice degree, provided I could secure a Credit Average in the first semester. Nolene suggested that maybe I should stick around and give the Fine Arts course a chance. “You seem bright enough,” she said, “I’ll give you a good recommendation.” To this day, I will never understand what exactly I did that made her say this, but I am forever grateful that she did.***

When I think about the platform that the Fine Arts and Electronic Arts degrees offered to myself and so many others, and that platform’s slow erosion, it inspires strong emotions. All these years later, I can still draw a clear line from my present day life as a practitioner and educator to the fundamentals I learned back then; fundamentals I still use. Studying Fine Arts at the University of Western Sydney changed my life, and my heart breaks that it’s an opportunity now lost to Australia’s cultural community. 

I’m thankful, however, that at least some pictures have survived. 

* Debra also had such a profound dislike of putting terms into inverted commas unless you were actually quoting someone that every time I’ve written such a thing since it has invoked her voice in my head. 

** Ann was right. Ann is still right.

*** I asked Nolene about this near the Scout Hall in Kandos in 2015, as we were both participating in the Cementa Festival that year. While she couldn’t remember the exact reason, she told me “I must have seen something in you”. That this exchange even occurred proves I shouldn’t question her on this.

Learn more about Daniel Green by visiting his website and Instagram.