Artist Uncle John Kelly and historian Jade Symons sit down for an interview, May 2026 in The Gallery, Saltwater Freshwater Arts Alliance to speak about the current exhibition; Neville McKenzie Collective: Intragenerational Family Exhibition.
By Jade Symons, Community Historian & Storytelling
Rain puddles at my feet as I duck into the gallery, umbrella dripping and toes soaked. The walls are washed white with streaks of colour catching my eye. Deep blue surfboards dotted with meticulous care, rest next to slabs of camphor-laurel carved with black cockatoos. It smells of sanded wood and petrichor. The Gallery is beautiful.
Uncle John has asked that we sit under the largest piece of this exhibition to have this yarn. Booregen Yetti (The Bunyip) is a triptych artwork, layered with story. Its vibrant orange reflects on Uncle John’s glasses, casting light across his eyes. There’s a delicacy in the artwork; thin, black lines slip down the artwork, like rain on a car window. Uncle John explains to me that these lines represent the passage of generations; passing away and arising in time.
‘The Bunyip story talks about when the rings appear upon the water, the presence of the Bunyip would be felt. But the lines on the canvas, the lines represent one generation. They only go so far and then another line starts. It represents all the different generations of time’’.
Uncle John explains that when he paints, these lines only run for three seconds. Through this artwork, he highlights the ephemeral nature of our time, reminding us that we are but a small piece of the larger tapestry of ongoing lineage. He tells me, in this artwork, he feels the connection to his Ancestors, preserving their knowledge.
Uncle John’s father once told him, ‘don’t be like the tide. Don’t come in with the tide and go out with the tide without doing anything in between’. The impact Uncle John is making in his time between the tides is profound. Uncle John is a Dhungutti Elder, with ties to Anēwan and Gumbaynggirr Country. In his 30 year career as an artist, his achievements are big. Uncle John is the artist behind the Deadly Awards, his art was the launch of NITV way back when, a piece of his Bunyip series hangs in NSW Parliament House (Bunyip), and his work with canoes is earmarked for the Venice Biennale. Beyond his art, Uncle John is a community mentor, art therapist, cultural advisor and teacher. He has a deeply visceral connection to Country and holds enormous stature within the Community.
In his work as an educational cultural mentor, Uncle John educates students on the Stolen Generation. He describes the racism; the hot days of not being allowed to swim at the local swimming pool, not being allowed to go to the picture theatre. Uncle John recalls to me the days he was stuck on the Aboriginal reserve and not allowed to leave. He says, ‘I was part of the dog tag days where you needed a letter to leave the reserve. My grandmother had to get that letter to say that it was allowed for me and her to leave the reserve’.
I was lucky that I was taught by the Old People. And, you know, my knowledge is there now for anybody to carry on traditional understanding of their cultural significance, of being and belonging to their local areas.
His childhood within and surrounded by Elders and Community saw Uncle John become strong in Culture. The teachings from his Ancestors; his Gumbaynggirr great-grandfather that died at one hundred and eighteen years old, his grandfather who died at eighty-nine, his father a painter and his mother, a storyteller, lace his artworks and are carried in his words.
One learning Uncle John keeps reiterating is that, ‘you’ve got to give it away to keep it’. You’ve got to give Cultural Knowledge away to ensure it remains strong. In every paint stroke, each piece of bark, Uncle John’s art stores the knowledge of his Dhungutti, Gumbaynggirr and Anēwan Ancestors.
Now, it is Uncle John giving it away to his grandchildren. He turns my attention to a canoe. A three metre hollowed out slab of solid wood, he crafted by hand, sitting along the ebbing shores of Valla Beach with his grandson. It sits pride of place at the gallery’s entrance. Uncle John has been making bark canoes since he was eleven years old. He speaks with his hands and describes to me the process of canoe making.
First, we go onto Country, and ask permission of the Ancestors for the bark. We do a Smoking Ceremony around the tree and then begin to peel off the bark. I have tried with other barks, however stringy bark is the only one that works properly to make the woy (canoe)’.
For Uncle John, the process of creation, of weaving together the story whether with hands or paint, is a cultural journey. This canoe carries the Story of Country.
As we close our conversation, and Uncle John heads on his way to another engagement, I wander the quiet gallery by myself; absorbing the beauty, the delicacy and finding the subtle guidance Uncle John has had in mentoring the fellow artists in the exhibition. I smile to myself at my luck; to sit with a Dunghutti Elder as he gives it away, to ensure we keep it. The rain finally eases, steam drifts up from the bitumen road and I leave the gallery; thinking to myself, that I am all the richer for having sat under the orange Bunyip.
The Gallery is an Aboriginal-owned gallery operated by Saltwater Freshwater Arts Alliance Aboriginal Corporation, supporting First Nations artists through exhibitions, retail opportunities and cultural programming, while returning 80% of artwork sales directly to creators.
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