Abstract
Last month, the missing head of a statue of King George V made an unexpected appearance onstage at a concert of the touring Northern Irish rap band, Kneecap. The head had not been seen publicly since it was severed from the rest of its huge stone body in Melbourne’s Kings Domain in June last year, on the eve of the King’s Birthday public holiday.
The sighting of the missing head, replete with Imperial crown, generated immediate media attention and intrigue because the location of the head had been a matter of ongoing police investigation. Everyone wanted to know where the missing head had been for the past year, where it is now, and why it was on stage?
The more significant question for me, however, is this: why is the historical artefact relevant to this band, and what might a conversation between the “statue wars” which motivated its disappearance and Kneecap’s “accidental language activism” mean today?
The sighting of the missing head, replete with Imperial crown, generated immediate media attention and intrigue because the location of the head had been a matter of ongoing police investigation. Everyone wanted to know where the missing head had been for the past year, where it is now, and why it was on stage?
The more significant question for me, however, is this: why is the historical artefact relevant to this band, and what might a conversation between the “statue wars” which motivated its disappearance and Kneecap’s “accidental language activism” mean today?
| Original language | English |
|---|---|
| Specialist publication | ABC Religion & Ethics |
| Publisher | Australian Broadcasting Commission (ABC) |
| Publication status | Published - 2 Apr 2025 |