Residency report: Anne-Louise (AL) Dadak

" ... We arrived at Gunyah in the evening, a little weary and worse for wear but the trees welcomed us; giving us a sense of this special place on Worimi land. There is a sense of generosity and creative spirit imbued at Gunyah that you can immediately recognise. 


AL Dadak, Full moon at Gunyah, August 2026


For most of the first week it was just my daughter and I, with my partner away for work commitments. Excited and nervous at the prospect of occupying a 4 year-old without the usual city distractions, we shifted into a slower pace of wandering, reading, listening and making. We became art making buds, sharing the studio with a practice anchored around the micro focus of a small child. The minutiae of place became essential for observing and documenting; examining rocks, shells, leaves and seeds and working with clay, printing and drawing to explore our ideas. 

 



AL Dadak, In the Gunyah Studio, August 2026 


Working with my small studio partner was a great reminder of how fun and exciting the dual process of observing and making can be, especially as a kid. It gave me a great perspective on how to embed an intergenerational approach to place-based learning and making. We also ate a solid amount of popcorn on the jetty and made great seaweed potions down by the rocks, working with the tide each day. 

 

Having extra time and space in the second week thanks to family support allowed for a more focussed approach. Time at Gunyah enabled me to continue my research, building on my ongoing investigation, Zwischen (the in-between). With a foundation in migration, memory, and language, I explored these concepts through observational, place-based research, focusing on dusk as a transitional period. Dusk at Gunyah is immense; everything shifts, pulsates and then aligns. There is an insight into the continuum of things; an encounter with pluriversal understandings of place, where everything is entangled and exists outside the dominant narratives. 

 

 

AL Dadak, Dusk studies, August 2026

 

Spaciousness to observe, document and think is often swallowed by the noise of the city, or inevitably lost while still at work or on the commute home. Spending time documenting dusk, through photo, video and sound on Worimi Country was a privilege. Attempting to capture the transitions and nuance of time passing is inevitably fraught. After a few days there was a sense of clear rhythm, but then this would shift and change with the weather: a windy, rainy day so mercurial and significantly different from a cloudless and still evening. The water became a hypnotic body, absorbing and reflecting the process of change. Documenting dusk feels out of reach, impossible to capture, it’s the sense of something, a transitioning of many elements. I’m excited to take this observational research into the basis for new works. 

 

AL Dadak, Dusk studies, August 2026

 

Many hours were spent with family, walking, swimming and cooking, then heading to the studio for reading and researching, whilst also returning to a previous love of printmaking. The spaciousness and slowness of Gunyah made printmaking feel like a very appropriate medium, carving in and around the details of place and translating these new forms into graphic outputs. 

 

 

AL Dadak, In the Gunyah Studio, August 2026

 

The time at Gunyah was a generous and generative experience. I left with two distinct projects unfolding and an immense gratitude for the time and space offered. My deepest thanks and respect to Worimi Elders past and present, on whose lands we were so lucky to rest and create. Heartfelt thanks to Kath and the Gunyah board, the residency is such a remarkable and generous offering. ..."


AL Dadak, Dusk on the Gunyah Jetty, August 2026

Gunyah Residency Report, August 2026

Anne-Louise (AL) Dadak

www.aldadak.com

Upcoming artists-in-residence: Lucy Wylie (Cherry) and Othy Willis

Lucy Wylie (Cherry) and Othy Willis. Photo by Kirsten Chow

Lucy Wylie (Cherry) and Othy Willis are artists engaged in a perennial conversational collaborative practice. Our collaboration grew from inhabiting care for Frontyard Projects as Janitors. As collaborators we have written together for PLATYPUS: 00-02. Our artmaking and writing is an ongoing love-letter to shared practice and queer relationality.

"... During our residency at Gunyah, we wish to deepen our collaborating relationship through writing and shared meals, and involve a contemplation of land-based practice within the context of Worimi country. Through soaking in the storied walls of Gunyah from the artists before us we hope to shake up our creative processes, knowledges, and ways. We intend to write a collaborative article together, exploring how spaces like Frontyard serve as a creative commons for artists, dreaming of futures where shared arts-practices can flourish with radical trust. We imagine the writing would be centred within our time at Gunyah, reflecting on how it nourished the process. ..."

Lucy Wylie (Cherry). Photo by Teo Treloar 

Lucy Wylie (Cherry) is a white queer making art on unceded Gadigal land. Riverstone Literary Journal is their publishing project. They facilitate writing workshops and host open mic community poetry events and spend a lot of time in the bush. They tend to Frontyard Projects as a Janitor and have writing published in Cordite Poetry Review and PLATYPUS: 00-02  Energy. @ch3rrryyy333 riverstone.hotglue.me lucywylie.cargo.site
"... I'm looking forward to swimming everyday at Gunyah and getting to know the local birds and trees. I'd like to reflect on rigour and compassion within artistic practice. Writing this article with Othy will be at the fore, I also hope to continue a personal making/writing project exploring chronic pain. ..."

Othy Willis, photo: Kirsten Chow


Othy’s practice navigates through relational practices of repair, dissecting, hacking and creating strange or interesting hybrids. They live on Wurundjeri Country, Warrandyte, VIC, transposing practices from other contexts onto their work: gardening, repairing, tending. Othy talks about tenderness a fair bit and they aim to embed it in the way we come to objects - becoming graceful as materials move through our bodies. othy.hotglue.me @othy_toffy
"... Whenever I inhabit a place, I’m looking for how things have come together, if they are to come apart, perhaps I work to repair them, but within this is a consent making, holding relationship with place; Gunyah…a tending to, cleaning, yearning, a practice of where the mundane meets the sublime. ..."

Othy Willis, photo: Lucy Wylie