By Roberto Chuter
Dominic Kurian’s Neighbours Cafe, corner of Inkerman and Chapel Streets, East St. Kilda is becoming somewhat of a local cultural venue of late. Every month or so a new artist can adore the walls of this popular cafe with their works. This month it’s the unique solo work of artist/drone photographer Eamon Wyss whose passion for abstract visual storytelling is extraordinary and infectious. At the busy exhibition opening, with a vino in one hand and an arancini ball in the other, I managed to ask Eamon some probing questions:

What did you do before you became an artist?
After high school, I deferred my university education and traveled around the world for eight years. During this time, I discovered a doorway into the global techno underground and spent the 90’s searching for the most radical dance parties I could find—from secluded beaches in Thailand to the Himalayas in India to free traveler gatherings in England.
How did you become an artist?
While traveling throughout the techno world, I loved the way the techno community created interactive spaces around art, music, and culture. So, I returned to Melbourne, met a bunch of amazingly creative people, and we started creating electronic art, music festivals, and events. From this, I learned to paint artworks, make installation art, DJ and produce electronic music, as well as learnt to design and run interactive festivals and events. Over time, I honed my creative skills in the form of fine art photography.
Why do you do the work that you do, Jungle?
I love pushing creative and cultural boundaries. I like to think of myself as a bit of a culture hacker, influenced by the neo-tribal and participatory culture of the techno movement.
Which people or what inspires you to work in the arts?
The underlying inspiration for my work is the landscape. I have always had an innate connection to the land. It is the platform or framework on which we build our lives and communities. This is true not only for my latest artwork as a fine art landscape photographer but also in designing festivals and events—the land itself determines the kind of events I design and build. More specifically, the main inspiration for my recent work in fine art drone photography comes from the Aboriginal dot paintings I encountered in the Australian desert as a boy, which use both topographical and symbolic communication of the landscape to tell a story.
How did your drone art eventuate?
For years, I enjoyed flying over the Australian deserts via Google Maps, exploring the shapes and colours apparent in the landscape. However, the software is limited in how close you can get to the earth. I felt that I wanted to zoom down closer to the ground and take photos of the landscape we walk on in our everyday lives. At first, I borrowed a friend’s drone to test this idea before spending thousands of dollars on my own equipment. I planned to head out to the deserts of NSW but felt that it was simply too far from me to test an idea. So, I decided on the open dry pans of Lake Corangamite west of Geelong.
Unfortunately, the day was grey and overcast, and the lake looked like horrible grey mud. Unfazed, I practiced flying the drone, loved it, and took a few photos of the mud. I used an iPhone as my interface, so I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. Later, at home, I opened my files and was completely blown away. I could not believe the number of extraordinary colours that lay hidden in the mud, as seen from the perspective of a drone.
I then researched Lake Corangamite and discovered it was a salt lake and that there were other salt lakes in the area. That was it. I bought a drone and went off salt-lake hunting across Victoria. So far, I have found scores of multi-coloured salt lakes with hues ranging from orange, blue, red, pink, and purple.

What do you think have been some of the negatives and positives in your work, do you think?
Positives: Coming to realise that my creative skills have a shared theme across each discipline I engage in. In other words, I found my voice. Negatives: Short battery life :). I could spend days up there flying around with my drone over these exquisite salt lakes, seeking out what I describe as contemporary dreaming stories that lay hidden in the landscape. Unfortunately, drone batteries only last 20 minutes and they are very expensive.
What have been your favourite achievements up to this point?
As an interactive festival art director and producer, I designed and co-produced what I believe to be the world’s first fully distributed, fully interactive arts/music festival as a platform. As organisers, we intentionally designed ourselves completely out of the way, so the entire event ran all by itself without any central governing body at all. And it worked—a social experiment in self-management to determine if a thousand people could coexist freely and cooperatively together for five days without the need for centralised control. Experiments like this give me hope in humanity. More recently, however, my favourite achievement has been my successful first solo exhibition of fine art drone photography this year at Burrinja Cultural Centre in Upwey.
How did you get your nickname, ‘Jungle’?
When I first left home to travel, I was a mad Doors fan and loved Jim Morrison. I had boofy hair and was into the whole poetry thing. When I first started traveling, these crazy travelers started calling me Jim—mocking me in a fun way, of course. And I used to love jumping off high cliffs and tall trees down into water holes in the rainforests near Cairns. So, people started calling me ‘Jungle Jim’. Over time, this was shortened to simply ‘Jungle’. Then, one day, I realised that everyone knew me as ‘Jungle’.

What are you currently working on?
I currently have a solo exhibition of fine art drone photography called ‘Dreamscapes’ at the Neighbours Cafe Gallery in St Kilda. It is a series of unmanipulated drone photographs of ephemeral salt lakes in Victoria, purposely composed from the air to emulate abstract paintings. The exhibition runs from 30th September – 5th November.
If you couldn’t do this anymore, what career path do you think you would have followed, Jungle?
Filmmaking.
Tell us a funny story or joke that involves your work or life.
When I left Melbourne to travel, I honestly told myself that I wanted to find the best place in
the world to live. Like Santiago in Paulo Coelho’s ‘The Alchemist’, I eventually returned full
circle back to my hometown (Melbourne) and said to myself: ‘Ah, this is it’.





Neighbours Café is a converted milk bar which has a casual setup where you can sit inside or outside in the back garden under the (fig) trees with your pets. It has a great vibe and there is plenty of room for large groups, prams and bikes. The vibe, with its jungle murals, is chilled and friendly. The menu is diverse with Bush Lamb with Sweet Potato Mash or the Shakshuka or the Vegan Chili Hash being the most popular. There are also plenty of beautiful vegetarian options not to mention Golden Lattes or Hot Apple Chai or Acai Smoothies.


here. She thinks I am getting too rough. So she’s going to pull me out at the end of the year”. So he simply said okay. It was a bit of a slack final term that year. Then I went to Geelong College, which is obviously a well appointed school, very expensive. Mum fought with Dad tooth and nail to pay the fees but I wanted to do drama, I wanted to act. I did all the drama classes and all that kind of stuff. English literature was a big thing with me. I didn’t fancy my chances at H.S.C. (which was Year 12 at the time) because it was heavily based on exams and I got nervous about that so I left and did T.O.P. at Preston Technical College which was a TAFFE course. I went there specially because they had drama and cinema studies with Tom Ryan, the famous Australian film critic, he was one of the main lecturers.
“The creatives flocked to ‘Razor’, without any need for promotion because of the eclecticism and style with the music choices, along with the mix of colourful and interesting people like George Huxley, Gavin Brown, Ash Wednesday, Sam Sejavaka, Hugo Race, Kerri Simpson and many others. Ironic really, when you consider that throughout this whole time, the other nightclubs in Melbourne were tripping over themselves trying to attract the same crowd as ‘Razor’. It was a hopeless endeavour because they were never adventurous enough with their music policies. For the ‘Razor’ dancefloor, I could quite literally go shopping for records on a Friday, pick up the most cutting-edge club music from overseas and then program up to 20 new songs that same night at ‘Razor’, with all of it packing the floor. ‘Razor’ was always ahead of the pack. Fresh club sounds from overseas mixed with edgy 70’s and 80’s funk, soul, disco, post-punk and hip hop/rap, James Brown and Prince, played mostly by Paul Main, Guy Uppiah, Sean Kelly and myself, along with 3RRR soul show presenters Jo Brady and Kate Seeley warming up every week. House music 
It was almost certain that every time I waited on the corner of Carlisle Street for the No. 16 tram, I would bump into Ruv Nemiro. On the tram he would grab me by the arm and laughing he would try to convince me to get involved with one of his schemes to sell or promote his artwork. This was a regular occurrence on every single tram ride.
In 1993, he created and designed “The Lady of St. Kilda” together with his son Alex which was installed on the old Carlisle Street bridge in Balaclava. The sculpture, made of steel and enamel paint, features an impression of the ship (known to have given St. Kilda its name), flanked by mermaids and sea creatures floating on ocean waves. “That was a collaboration of the Painter and Sculptor, and this is why it was unique, the successful part of this project was the idea of painting the form on the flat metal collages,“ said Alex.








Text by Natalie Evans, Images by Kerrie Pacholli
