1994, 80 x 120 cms NFS
Public Collection, Howard Black Gallery, University of Sydney
This draws on a tale related to me about an electrical contractor in a remote community who, stressed with his conditions, drove the 200 kilometres to the Stuart Highway to blow some steam, one Friday at the closest pub. Crossing the last creekbed before the bitumenised highway, he spotted an empty vehicle and recognising it as deriving from the community, incinerated it. He enjoyed his respite at the bar with the local off-duty cop, then realised he'd left his tools at the community. By the time he'd made the return journey, the men who'd abandoned their car while hunting, had returned ahead of him, anticipated his move and surrounded his car upon his arrival, bailing him therein, until the cop arrived from the small roadside town to take him into custody. And no, he wasn't, I'm told six months hence, even made to pay for damages.
The Whitegate mob, nevertheless, enthusiastically re-staged the event and I got friend, Scott Casley to play the apprehensive electrician.