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’.




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 
“Love is a many splendored thing, until it’s not… in which case it just plain sucks. Whether we fall out of love, experience unrequited love, or lose the love of our life, heartbreak is a pretty universal feeling for most people. I personally love a little heartache, but I do believe that there’s something to be said for what a little heart-wrenching despair can do for the creative mind. I’m not alone in this sentiment. Whether reeling from the discovery of an unfaithful husband, like Frida Kahlo, or capturing the death of a beloved wife on canvas, like Claude Monet, many artists have experienced their greatest artworks after love has been lost.”
I first met Scholten fleetingly at “Collective Momentum” exhibition at the Carlisle Street ArtSpace in St. Kilda. The first thing that I noticed was this huge smile, white teeth like something out of a toothpaste ad and this shock of black spiky hair. He was surrounded by a crowd of women all vying for his attention, which I am sure thrilled him. Some where along the way we became good friends working on a few projects together – some successful and some not successful.
Art is something I just really love doing. Even the boring parts. From this passion comes a desire to create, improve and learn. So I look a lot. Inspiration is hard to pinpoint as it comes from so many different sources, changing on a regular basis. I love art history, from all across the world and across time. I like organic surfaces with a feeling of time ravaging it. I like nature. I guess the short answer is anything could be inspiring at any given time. Growing up, I didn’t come from an artistic family so a lot of my art exposure came from pop culture and self study in libraries. I met some artists growing up, which provided inspiration and guidance. My friend asked me the other day why I do many different mediums and I joked that I’m a hustler! In the sense that to make
As a follow up to my last article, “Threatening A House With A History“, there have been some fearful updates not to mention a potential demolition derby. The developer Nick McKimm’s representative recently requested an adjournment at VCAT to represent amendments for the development of 1-5 Tiuna Grove, Elwood into a monolith of 19 apartments. So, apparently to stay within the guidelines of No. 3 and No. 5’s interim heritage overlay the new plans are to be presented at VCAT later this year.
In particular, the destruction of the rest of the No. 3 dwelling conflicts with the Heritage requirements surely? The former dining room, has always been known as ‘The Red Room” since the early 20s, it has been painted over white during the intervening years but was faithfully restored to its original colour in the mid-90s under the then lessee, well-known playwright Julia Britton. It has now recently been repainted over again (yes, in white), most likely to make it more conservative and/or more saleable to buyers by recent owners. This precious room has nurtured, created and played host to many historical and cultural events over the last hundred years. Too numerous to mention. From discussions about the current political scene, war, to art and painting, to theatre, to filmmaking and radio, to poetry and was a room that magically inspired and bore many famous stage plays, films, music and art throughout the 90s and 00s. It became a legendary room amongst the Melbourne artistic community. Designed beautifully by the architects Richardson & Wood in c. 1912 (dates vary to 1917) in a mock Tudor style highlighted with wooden beams and stunning panelling, this room needs to be preserved.
At the exterior, ajoing The Red Room’s large bay window, it features an authentic verandah in which the famous artist Mirka Mora and Britton once sat together, one afternoon, in blue deck chairs, nibbling green grapes and sipping from small bottles of soda water. Many years later the legendary La Mama Theatre staged an extraordinary open air theatre production entitled “The Murderer’s Barbeque” in the rear garden of No. 3 for the Elwood residents and the general public to see. And did they see. The seven performances were entirely packed out – even during a thunderstorm and downpour one particular evening. The production garnered a number of award nominations for its actor and its genesis at No. 3. This authentic, untouched Australian back

Many years ago when I was young and attractive – yes it’s true – at least the young part and still playing soccer ( I prefer to call it football) I was also recording an animation series. Both were on Saturday. But timing was tight so I’d rush straight to the recording studio still in my shorts and top and plastered in buckets of sweat. One of my characters was Baby Wombat – yes, it’s true- whose scenes were mainly with Papa Wombat. So we would squeeze into this tiny, tiny studio to record – me smelling like a piece of ripe gorgonzola. And Papa Wombat was an older and very gay actor. Hard to record when your armpits are being constantly sniffed with little grunts of delight. Such is the world of theatre. How many tales could I tell – such as taking the voluptuous blonde and rather thick Polish table top dancer to an awards night for audio books and, in the middle of an important speech she says at the top of her voice: “Why is the fat man so boring?’’ We didn’t have a second date. Such is my tale. Don’t put your daughter on the stage but It’s been fun though many arduous journeys. Take a bow, God bless and goodnight – you’ve been a fabulous audience. Now back to belly fluff gazing.
Built in 1912 on land owned by Liet. Col. Harry McLeod Duigan formerly of the Australian Imperial Forces (with a distinguished military career and noted athlete), the house is legendary for its historical and cultural significance. The beautiful dwelling is a rare example of a Federation home which retains virtually all of its original interior fittings and red brick structure. In particular is the famous ‘The Red Room’ (original dining room) which still boasts of its stunning floor to high ceiling Tudor-style timber panelling and leadlight bay windows. Many artistic and lively events have taken place in ‘The Red Room’.
Flashing back to 1921, the then owner allowed Leslie Taylor, known as Squizzy Taylor, to hide out in the back room of the house after fleeing, disguised as a school boy in a Scotch College uniform, from 60-66 Glenhuntly Road, Elwood. In 1923, Chas. Miller and Edgar Clarke sold No. 3 for 2950 pounds to a large attendance and bidding was spirited. Liet. John (Jack) Frank and his wife Frances lived at No. 3 in 1944, Sadly, on 22nd June, Jack was killed.