Since the early 1990s, McDougall’s characteristically grinning stick-figures have drummed and waved their way across his loud, impasto canvases – like rock-star hedonists partying hard after the concert, or acid-freaks set loose in an abattoir (McDougall played in psychedelic bands in the 1970s and spent 13 years as a freezing worker). Seemingly naive, McDougall’s paintings are, in reality, slyly sophisticated dissections of art, consumerism and contemporary New Zealand culture. However cutting, McDougall’s satires are, nonetheless, basically good-humoured and reflect his admonishment to ‘give everything to affirm yourself, your talent and your passions. And stuff the negative voice!’