F Projects Residency, Warrnambool
Leaving Melbourne, I ventured to the F Projects Residency in Warrnambool with a longing for space—both physically and mentally. A coastal residency away from the city was a chance to breathe, but it was also a personal investigation. I grew up in Pearl Beach, a small town near Sydney. I associated Pearl Beach with an idealised, vague and half imagined vision of an artistic haven: artists and creatives forming a community by the coast, collaborating, sharing, and living with the landscape. Over the decades, Pearl Beach had shifted, becoming a haven for holiday-goers rather than artists, and I hoped to rediscover that creative ideal in Warrnambool. Or at least be disappointed and rage against the inadequacy of Australia.
When I arrived, Helen and Dez Bunyon welcomed me at the train station and took me to the residency space—an old morgue. It is a large, slightly divided building, with one side outfitted for living and the other filled with studios. As I settled in, I met Harley Manifold, a local artist who has a studio in the residency building. Harley is kind, welcoming, and was quick to invite me and the other arriving artist, Amy Meng to dinner, his treat! We learned about his life as a full-time artist.
The next day, I explored Warrnambool. The town was larger than Pearl Beach. I wandered down to the beach and explored the foreshore and its slightly scungy camp ground and wayward walking tracks - a lost bong bottle and old chip packets a sign of genuine habitation. There was a tinge of bittersweet nostalgia as I thought about how my own hometown had changed—driven by trophy beach mansions, losing its community touch.
There is a small gallery affiliated with F Projects. There, Amy Meng, Kazumasa Tanaka ( an artist from Japan) and I were invited to an exhibition where locals gathered to appreciate the art. There was a sense of togetherness, something that echoed the artistic community I vaguely remembered from my childhood.
Throughout the residency, small moments reinforced this community spirit. Locals would visit the studios, bringing baked goods and working on their projects side by side, while we chatted and shared creative processes. We met Jane Curtis, who lives next door and is involved in looking after the residency. Jane is an artist herself, her work adorning the walls of the residency with works by Des Bunyon and Helen Bunyun. Dez was focusing on printmaking, and I saw some of his beautiful landscapes and sketches, for planned etchings. Helen’s work, ( as seen mostly on instagram) which reminds me of Robert Klippel’s industrial aesthetic with the charm of Shaun Tan, was partly constructed from found objects. Harley’s practice is reminiscent for me of Jeffrey Smart with more neon.
During our time at the residency, Kaz, Amy, and I started cooking and sharing meals together. Kaz, whose conceptual work focused on community and politics, explored Warrnambool by creating graphite impressions of local textures. A large impression of a local police memorial had him covering it in paper and rubbing it all over. Amy draws from Kawaii Japanese culture, blending cuteness with a hidden, darker edge. One of her masks became a welcome wearable artwork, suggesting our own Kawaii club. As for me, I was drawn back to the landscape—something that had always fascinated me. Growing up on the coast, I often explored hidden natural gardens, pathways, coves and caves, and I was eager to rediscover that sense of adventure in Warrnambool.
One memorable encounter was with M.P. Willis, a local with deep Aboriginal ties to the land. He spoke to us about the history of Warrnambool, his grandmother's tribal connections, the lands utilization in horse training, farming and industry, and the environmental damage that had followed. His stories of the landscape’s transformation resonated with Rebkah and I, adding impetus to the dramatic choreography in our dance film.
Over the course of the residency, we also visited the homes and studios of other local artists in the wider area, like Harley’s mother, Marion Manifold who took us on a tour of her large historical house and garden. It was a rare glimpse into a personal art collection in situ—the kind of art pieces that might never make it into galleries but harkened back to her art school days, creative experiments or a more provocative intention. Her more current prints were large beautiful arrays of plants and landscape with bold lines and patterns. I loved all her work and could see a through line between her work and Harleys, a reverence for places and things that have weathered into and integrated into the landscape.
Kaz, Amy, and I had the pleasure of visiting Carol Eagle at her home with Helen, Dez and Marion, stepping into a labyrinth of curated rooms, each filled with dolls from around the world. Some of the dolls were Carol’s own creations, and after exploring her collection, she treated us to lunch with desserts, sandwiches, and more desserts. We visited her studio, where Carol meticulously crafted each doll, shaping their faces, hands, and bodies before dressing them in elaborate garments. Her daughter and husband shared their own passion for collecting glassware and gardening. The entire house was a fairy tale, a place where the dolls might come to life. I think Amy Kawaii's obsession resonated, a twinkle in her eye.
Another memorable experience during our visit to the Manifold Estate with Marian was hearing the story of her husband and son, Harley, landing their light plane in a large mudflat and getting stuck. The story unfolded when we questioned a comedic sketch of her husband stuck in the plane amidst the mudflat—a lighthearted piece that stood out against the otherwise refined art and decor of her home. Marian recounted the tale of their misadventure. Later, this same story was shared again, but from a different perspective. At a separate dinner, Jane Curtis detailed her fathers part in rescuing Marian’s husband from the swamp. Jane also shared beautiful passages from her fathers book that spoke of their connection in feeling the poetry and beauty of the land.
Des Bunyan is part of a weekly FProject Cinema group run in a small local hall, which he has helped outfit with a projector, screen, and speakers with contributing funds from the Fproject. Each week, they showcase a selected film, and sometimes community members share personal connections to the movies shown. Des screened one of my own short films before a feature. Later, Jane Curtis shared her thoughts on my film, engaging with the character dynamics and psychological themes. Rather than focusing on technical aspects, she delved into the film's relationships and inquiries, something I appreciated.
My time at F Projects Residency reaffirmed my belief that coastal towns can still hold vibrant artistic communities. While my hometown had changed, ( the only local shop and cafe had closed for lack of a local community in the off season) Warrnambool offered a glimpse of what I thought I’d lost—an artistic haven where creativity, community, and the landscape came together.
