By utilising the landscape surrounding Dimboola as a site of identification, Yang's motive appears to be to posit a sense of 'authentic' inhabitation, inscribing his vocabulary of childhood experiences onto this setting. His narration is masterful and directed, deciphering his memories as they are shaped by the linear experience of time. As the slide images shift and change so do Yang's recollections and perceptions of his upbringing and his notion of place within the context of this environment. With an ample dash of tongue in cheek humour, he is able to enunciate stories that articulate his position as a transgressor of the metanarratives of existing modes of cultural identity. Most poignant was the moment of realisation that he was different, after being teased in the schoolyard when he was six years old. Soliciting the support of his mother proved to be an even bigger revelation when she stoically told him that 'he had better get used to it.'

By presenting these themes at a personal level, Yang nonetheless is asking the 'big' questions regarding notions of national identity. This work is timely considering the current political landscape which appears to champion existing hegemonies of 'Australianness'. Taking this into consideration one is left thinking if the landscape in his work plays a mimetic role, acting as a platform for diversity. The effect borders on catharsis, the landscape as site of Australian monoculture is gradually transformed into a hybrid locus which is pinpointed by the experience/s of many individuals known and unknown.

Collectively, Australians of Chinese descent experience what must be symptomatic of a form of cultural dyslexia. Though many of their ancestors pioneered and established a substantial number of north Australian towns, they are still for the most part considered as outsiders. Thus they constitute as yet another group of dispossessed people who inhabit this country. But with events such as Yang's The North, perhaps there is hope of recognising and affirming the diversity of the Australian population in the face of the belligerent small-mindedness that in recent times has come to the fore.

Yang's monologue is neither nostalgic or sentimental. His story appears anecdotal, casting himself as a specimen or an example of his cultural heritage. His visual narrative emerges as a metamorphoses, images blurring from one to the next, though always leaving a trace, a glimpse of Yang's identity which is reinforced by his narration. The projected slides weave a layer of infinite complexity, their continually changing forms, embellish Yang's ever shifting narrative. Pictures of his home, the school and of family, old photographs and recent documentation are compared as a mode of evidencing or witnessing cultural and societal changes over time. The faces of current school students from the Dimboola State School morph into each other-suggesting a cultural melting pot. The scrub surrounding Dimboola melds into the town and then the city. Iconic termite mounds echo the forms of Japanese Shinto Gardens (or is it the other way around?)

The sound accompaniment provided by Colin Offord was haunting and emotive, created from an instrument designed and made by Offord. Influenced by a plethora of traditional music from around the globe, the element of sound is used to suggest a process of fragmentation. This in turn may be interpreted as a shifting concept of identity, one which is relative on a personal level as well as presenting the changing disposition of a place.

In conclusion; The North was an exploration into the identity of an Australian still locating his identity as such. This work serves as a poignant reminder that this nation, regardless of its attachment to a homogeneous mythology of the landscape, has a rich and diverse population who also recognise the land as part of their cultural heritage.