INTERVIEW: Kyel Golly Chats Exploration, The Importance Of Backing Yourself, And All Things No One Network!
Words by Ethan Stafford
Deeply embroiled in street culture since a young age, Meanjin-based Kyel Golly, (known also as Kyel925), has had a creative career that defies singular description. From his beginnings documenting graffiti and urban exploration through his photography, Kyel demonstrated a love for capturing the culture and community around him. His efforts culminated in a 60-page photo book titled “Not Your Ordinary”, which showcased his perspective of the Meanjin life. Thrust into his role as a videographer, he has worked with a plethora of artists, shooting everything from cyphers and one-takes to music videos and concert recaps.
His biggest claim to fame however, is his inspiring work founding and running No One Network. Known and loved by locals and beyond, No One Network is dedicated to showcasing talent in a variety of creative disciplines and promoting a positive approach to the ‘street culture’ lifestyle. While it may be most known for its association and collaboration with Meanjin rappers such as Nerve, Skrub, and Smak, Kyel has built a platform that is also home to a whole host of photographers, videographers, graffiti artists, designers, and more. It’s through a community-oriented approach that he is bringing something truly unique to the scene and fostering a supportive environment for artists to succeed.
We had the pleasure of sitting down with the extraordinaire that is Kyel Golly to chat about his own creative endeavors and his work with No One Network.
How would you describe yourself?
I’m a bit of an explorer man. A lot of us grew up as internet kids with that whole sea of information from overseas, and I guess my whole journey has been exploring that as an Australian kid. I see something and I get inspired and want to figure out where I can find that here.
Moving from the bush to the city, I discovered this whole urban world, this urban nexus of super cool stuff – yeah, I just sort of fell in love with it. For a while I was thinking – am I a photographer, am I a videographer, and then with the business I was doing a lot more creative direction and producing… at the end of the day, I think that what remains consistent is that I like telling people stories. Highlighting that there are really cool things here, and that we have this community and culture here. I really want to replicate the inspiring things that I’ve seen overseas here at home.
What do you think makes a good storyteller?
Getting involved is important – I think that you need to be a part of it. Any time that I’ve been documenting something or telling a story, I’ve always tried to make sure that it’s coming from the right angle, and it’s done properly. I think being organic is really important… Being open to advice, getting involved in that community – living and experiencing it first-hand.
What was your early creative journey like?
Growing up and having a camera, along with the people that I had around and the stuff that I was engaging in from overseas, I found this underground world - this thing underneath. There was stuff on the other side of the fence, and I wanted to have a peek.
In that process, I found a lot of light within that dark. That’s kind of like what I used to say - trying to find something beautiful and epic within this thing that is at face value quite intimidating or scary, or that people would usually look down upon. I think a part of the process of doing all this stuff is realising how easy it is, you just have to do it. I found this whole underground world, and one of those big steps was graffiti culture, which lead to hanging out at the paint store. Through that you meet DJs and rappers, and that whole community, and you start to see how it all aligns. Painters are listening to music. People making music are enjoying the graffiti. So yeah, I found this whole new world man, and I wanted to share these stories. And I guess through graffiti, which then led to hanging out at the shops, I started documenting the lifestyle. Then the rappers started to get onto it, which was a whole new thing, and that naturally built onto the culture I was already documenting.
You speak a lot of the underground. With No One Network, how do you straddle the line between commercial success and maintaining that authentic, underground experience?
I think that’s what No One Network is. It’s an answer to a problem that only we as a community could answer, which is: how do we engage in that commercial world, and be acknowledged for that hard work while staying ourselves? And I think that No One was a way of creating a platform that can engage this world and operate within a commercial aspect. We have autonomy over what we do and what we represent. We have the network to show people how we think you should engage in this culture, and how to do it respectfully - both for the artists, and the community. I guess also, developing No One was a way of getting a bit of hope for a lot of these artists. Creating a bridge that is like “you guys keep focusing on being an artist and let us worry about this other crap”.
I have to give a shoutout to all the older guys who inspired me. Getting told like – “instead of sitting outside the box and complaining, get inside it and fix it.” That was pretty impactful for me.
"Do I want to be another person who’s in their 30s and 40s, jaded and pissed off at how things are run? Or do I want to get in there and fix it, and make it better for the next person? I think that is more staunch than being jaded and complaining all the time. I think that’s more ‘gangster’, more real, to run the game and make it go in our favour"
I’d like to go back to your connection to exploration, because it’s a really important part of your story. In your 9 to 5 days you spent a lot of time capturing the graffiti culture, roof-topping, drain exploring, and other urban exploration. What role did exploration play in your formation as a creative, and were there any lessons learned from these experiences that you’ve brought forward with you into your current career?
I guess, trying to find something that hasn’t been shown before, and I think that travels across all types of art. You need to be providing a point of difference and sharing something unique; that’s how you’re building on everything before you.
Exploring was super important just to find those new things. You can tactically prepare and organise, but you don’t know what you’re going to find or what you’re going to share with people in the end until you get out there and do it. I think exploring isn’t just going to affect you in terms of the environment or what you’re documenting, it’s going to affect you as a human. Throwing yourself into completely foreign or unusual experiences - that’s what’s important.
Recently, I was up at 2am in the morning, in the middle of a campsite, partying with a group of people dressed as orcs, doing a bunch of throat-singing. I thought,
“this is where I want to be.” I could be at home with the boys, listening to hip-hop any time, but this here is unique, it’s different. That’s what I’m searching for - these unique human experiences. I think exploring is not just important for your art and what you’re sharing, but for you as a person, and for understanding the whole human experience in general. "
And you’ve spent a fair bit of time overseas – recently America, but before that Europe, and Japan?
Yeah, Europe, that was when I went by myself. I went over there and met some crazy people. Worked with a guy called Jafro over in London. He was super young, and his cousin was his manager. They’d built this basement studio, and they were doing classes and workshops. We were still coming out of that world where nobody had really taken that big jump to say, “I’m 20 something, and I’m the manager of my friend.” And that’s taken time to develop still. But why not start to take yourself a bit more seriously? I guess that was the shifting point.
Before Europe, I was doing a lot with the music guys. I was documenting a lot of that culture, and at that time, all the rap stuff was called “The Network”. We used to do all the CDs and print everything ourselves – we were the network of homies that were making this shit happen, but we hadn’t formalised a brand behind it. Coming back, I wanted to take myself more seriously, and there was something there. No One Network was the answer to the question: “how can we turn ourselves into a brand and a business, and sustain this lifestyle that we have?” I took care of the visuals and the business side, and the boys were the audio. All they had to do was keep making music. We had artwork to keep making products to showcase the rest of the crew, and it’s been super fun ever since.
A couple of years ago, drill rap was a big, contentious topic of conversation, and people were arguing that it endorsed and catalysed violence. How do you view the artist’s relationship with their audience, and how do you and the No One Network work to mitigate any potential issues?
This is a really complex question, but it’s super important, and it’s taken us years to figure out where we stand on these things. The biggest thing is that hip-hop is about telling stories – about voices that are unspoken. Getting a chance to tell people about what you’ve been through, and for that to be acknowledged. Obviously though, artists need to accept some responsibility - they can tell their story in their music, but what activities are they doing outside of that? Are they reinforcing that lifestyle? Or, are they telling their story and outside of that, reinforcing to their fans – look, what I went through and what I had to do was a unique experience to me that I hope that nobody will have to go through. I appreciate you listening to my story, but don’t get carried away. We have to teach the audience not to get carried away and remind them what is important.
But it's never about censoring yourself, and that’s what No One Network is about. Never disregarding where you came from, and the world that taught you what you know. Having to be independent – back yourself, support yourself, love what you’re doing – all the things that came from that community. But still understanding, as an adult, the power of your platform. What am I spreading, and what am I telling the community? I personally think that if you’re telling your story how it was, you shouldn’t be in trouble for that. But if you push it in the wrong way because it’s selling easier, that’s where it becomes a grey area.
You worked with 6lack How did you end up linking up with 6lack?
I did a photoshoot during my Japanese trip and sent my photos to Acclaim magazine, then someone sent my name to the management of 6lack’s team. That was a really cool example of backing yourself and having an organic reward coming down the line.
I used to do club photography and I hated it. It’s one of those classic things – I’m a photographer, how can I make money? I’ll do club photos. But it was just toxic bullshit. It was funny, I went to the festival with 6lack, who was the second headline to Schoolboy Q, and I’m on this massive stadium stage. Even Nerve, and Triple One got kicked off. Here I am rolling VIP with Schoolboy Q, 6lack, his team – the whole stage is cleared just for us. All the more commercial media boys are down in the pit, and I remember seeing guys that I used to work with in the clubs. They were like, “what the f*ck is he doing up there?” It was a really nice moment, because I left the club scene to go document all this crazy weird stuff, and a lot of people used to be like, “he’s a gutter kid, he’s gross, that shit’s not going to work out for him – documenting graffiti and rap and stuff. This is what you do, you do the commercial route, this is what being a photographer is like.” Here I am with the second headline act, in VIP, doing whatever photos I want to do, not just 20 minutes in a box at the front. That was a really cool moment.
Recently you took a trip to California to take up a 3-week residency with The Chambers Project. What is the Chambers Project, and can you talk a little about the trip?
Brian Chambers is an art collector from California. He’s pretty connected to some big people like Rick Griffin, who did a lot of posters for Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead. He was also connected to Ralph Steadman, who did a lot of the drawings for Hunter S Thompson and has a very gonzo approach to his work. Brian Chambers emailed my mate, asking to buy a canvas. My mate said, “nah, it’s for a gallery”, and Brian said that he’d give him a gallery in America in exchange for the canvas. My mate went over and came back, and said I had to come for the second show. I just went to document it.
Obviously, I met the music people, and went off and made No One Network, but before that I was documenting my mate Leans. There was a group of us who used to hang out in an air hanger, and I was documenting the graffiti scene with them. He was part of that circle. He was the first friend out of us to decide that he was going to become an artist and make money off it. A lot of us either still had jobs, or uni, or other things, and art was on the side. But he was the first person to back himself. Fast forward seven years later, here he is doing this gallery show in America. It was this beautiful moment for me to go back to the roots of what it was – which was just Kyel documenting. I was very privileged to be invited, and it felt full circle. Hunter S Thompson was a massive influence on me, and when I got to this gallery and realised how deep it was connected to this gonzo era, and that Californian experience, it was just the cherry on top.
How does the American arts scene, or more specifically, the Californian arts scene, differ from the Australian one?
I guess, everything is 20 – 30 years ahead there. It was really cool to go to America and see what could happen if we continue to back ourselves and do what we’re doing. But it also taught us about what we’re missing here. I think that at the moment, a lot of what we have is a reality reflection, but we’re not having these art characters, and these explorations of identities. I think that’s the next step – getting a little more artistic within our community. But it’s super exciting, because to do that, we need to take ourselves even more seriously. Going to America and coming back, now I want to do some shit that makes your heart stop.
Everything needs to be about the art,
and if it’s not about the art,
it’s about the community.
You’ve said that you didn’t ever want to become a videographer, but you found yourself in the role regardless. What has your videography journey been like, and what have you learned going from shooting one-takes and cyphers as a one-man-band to now directing music videos with a dedicated crew?
It’s all been figuring out what really is my thing, and I think that’s been putting people together and sharing this story. Learning videography became a tool that I had control over. The boys needed to tell something, and a video was an awesome way of doing that. A big part of No One Network and everything that I do is acknowledging that the people we work with have their own fortes and are the best at what they’re doing.
So acknowledging who’s the best at what they do, and through that, acknowledging that in the circle of videographers there were people who were way better at shooting than me. While I’m off doing all of these other crazy things in this creative direction role, I need to acknowledge and bring in the best videographers. If video is the right tool for telling these stories, I want to work with the best video guys, and that’s part of putting the ego to the side. It was the best decision I made in my career, realising that me doing everything isn’t necessarily a good thing. Good art and good production take time - it takes process, and it takes more than one person.
And is that part of how you maintain passion for your art while making a career out of it? If you’re not getting overwhelmed by these different responsibilities being that one-man-band, does that keep that passion alive?
The execution and the method can be anybody, and I think that the end product is what I’m really focused on, and that’s what keeps me passionate. Collaboration and sharing brains; the more people I get involved with gets me more passionate because I’m excited to see what we can make. It’s a big process I guess, and it’s been really coming back and solidifying myself as a producer/director/manager. Now I’ve done a bit of everything, I know that I’m not the best screen printer, videographer, or photographer, but maybe my job is to put these people together and align that vision and that community approach that I’m really drilling in.
In saying that, I do still need to have those moments where I’m being creative myself. So that’s where I’m making my zines, and I’m thinking about having my own gallery this year because it’s been 5 years since the last one.
Music and graffiti are the most discussed aspects of No One Network, but fashion is another facet of the Network worth discussing. How did you get involved with Lil J’s Vintage, and what has been your relationship to fashion over the years?
Me and Jacquie [Jacqueline Cowan] are just homies and friends because we met in the city when we were kids, through the same interest in the street culture. A lot of the city kids all came from different backgrounds, but we would all hang out and go to parties and stuff. Us all having a creative interest was that glue that we all didn’t get from our backgrounds, and other people that we were hanging out with. Jacquie was definitely one of the first big providers for the fashion element.
In the hip-hop scene when we were growing up, everything was the same. Everybody printed on the same blanks. Everyone used the same stereotypical graffiti font. Same printers, same colours. Going back to growing up with these overseas influences, we were vintage flipping - we were a new breed of underground Australian kids that were getting on top of the street culture but not necessarily from an Eshay element. The fashion just becomes a way of expressing what you stand for.
We’ve seen a transition in the community, and street culture has been a massive part of that. If you’re from a demographic that doesn’t often get a way to express yourself, or have other luxuries in life, your clothing is a way of expressing that. A lot of street culture is about finding things for cheap. Finding a Tommy Hilfiger for 5 bucks - it’s about reclaiming things and showing that “I don’t need a fancy house, but I can be fancy too.” Fashion has always been a massive part of street culture, and combining it with music and the video, it’s been really fun. It’s been a way to provide something to a fast fashion world that looks good, and is comfortable, but also represents something and means something locally. It’s been a really important element.
So looking forward now, where do you see the future of the No One Network going, and where do you see your own creative endeavours taking you next?
I’m still on the Brisbane journey! I think when we first started, we engaged a lot on the East coast of Australia, and that was super important, but really, I’m back to my roots.
"People said that there isn’t anything happening in Brisbane, and that Brisbane isn’t cool – fuck that! I want the story to be in 5, 10, 15 years, that No One was a pivotal part of changing that story in Brisbane. I want every second or third kid to have some No One Network piece of merch. And that’s not just about it being No One, but it’s about them representing local artists. I want everyone to be proud of Brisbane, because of what everyone has, not because of Kyel."
We’ll get bigger and better, and make it more accessible, and all just keep improving our things. Making things more fun, and more engaging and keep bettering it for everybody else. It would be really cool to see what we look at overseas happen here. We need heroes, and we need people who share our stories and our experiences. It’ll bring everyone together, not just on an art level, but on a community level. Through that will come more events, and more fashion, and music. It would be really cool to be like, “what’s up? We’re Brisbane!”
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