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| Sometimes
Artist
Selected
works 1993-2000
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TAKE
THE L
watch Take the L at YouTube
FUNERAL
SONGS What song do you want played at your funeral? Daniel Mudie Cunningham has been asking that question of artists and artworkers throughout 2007. Over 150 people answered it in all manner of ways that ranged from the profound to the playful. Some of the songs selected deliberately tug at the heartstrings, while others make you want to drop everything and dance. The idea for Funeral Songs is based in personal experience. Weeks before the artist’s brother unexpectedly died in 2000, he’d mentioned what song should be played at his funeral. Amid the grief, the song choice was forgotten. Now recalled several years on, the song features in Cunningham’s curated readymade archive of music you can live or die to. This project was supported by a grant from the NSW Government – Arts NSW, through a program administered by the National Association for the Visual Arts
Image: Daniel Mudie Cunningham, Porcelain, 1985 / 2007
REPEATS
“This
short is an example of what can be done when an idea is executed with
style and panache… I eagerly await Daniel’s next film. Maybe
a longer one for us fans”.
THE
BALLAD OF TECHNOLOGICAL DEPENDENCY
FUCKING
JODIE FOSTER
Was
it true, was Jodie coming out? Was she finally making a
LICYCLE
“I love you, no I don’t” said Liza as she got off her bicycle and rode into the sunset. Liza was once more seen riding the trail of love. THE END" Written and Performed by Daniel Mudie Cunningham
GENDER
IS A DRAG
“Look, if I used to love you, it was because of your hair; now that you’re shorn I don’t love you anymore” Self-portrait with Cropped Hair, Frida Kahlo, 1940. Written and Performed by Daniel Mudie Cunningham
THE DEN
The Den is an installation that links narratives of fact and fiction, threads of memory and community. The modern man of twentieth century sitcoms always retreats to his den in the evening, after a meal and before a fuck. The den is a masculine space of hero worship. Its contents are chains of memory, threads of desire. Photos, certificates and souvenirs trace familial ties and reinforce identity. What if the memories are stolen or borrowed from others? What happens when memory is taken out of its quotidian context and transformed into art world glamour?
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