Fresh out of lockdown, black-and-white photographer Zinos Charalambous was shooting in Hosier Lane and spotted Vasso Koletis standing on top of a dumpster making a paste-up street piece. Five years on, the pair have become fast friends, meeting monthly with the Melbourne Street Art Collective.
Zinos and Vasso clicked instantly – “because we’re Greek, number one…” – and because they’re drawn to a bit of creative chaos. Zinos describes first stumbling upon the collective; “there was a lot of kerfuffle, lots of talking, lots of shouting… I was like, I need to get in on this.”
Founded by Vasso, the collective began as an effort to unify Melbourne’s fragmented street art scene. “The taggers stick with the taggers, the sticker people do stickers … everyone’s quite separated in their own groups,” she explains.
“I thought, wouldn’t it be nice if we could all come together as a group, and there’s a sense of unity? … so I started contacting some artists, and formed this street art crew” Vasso tells Neos Kosmos.
Now, every month, Vasso picks a theme for the artists to work with. The most recent session was on International Women’s Day. A standout piece by activist group Femicide — a tribute to 116 women who have been killed due to domestic violence — still remains untouched, a rare feat in a space known for fast turnover.
Zinos recalls his favourite session: “The theme was colour, which was broad enough for everyone to jump in.” That day, a man with autism attended who had always wanted to try spray painting. He wasn’t the only newcomer — the group also welcomed their youngest artist, aged 13, and their oldest, 74.
“If you come to Melbourne from another country and you’re into street art, we’re your first point of call. You’re immediately part of this community,” says Zinos, who migrated to Australia from Cyprus in 1988, when he was just eight years old.
“To have that comfort from others with a common interest, I think it works wonders.”
For Vasso, a valuable part of the group dynamic is the participation of artists from Syrian, Lebanese, and Palestinian backgrounds.
“It’s so diverse. Hearing stories from these different countries, some of which are war-torn, it’s good to be exposed to those perspectives … we all come from different places and have different lives, but we actually do all get along. We’re all the same,” Vasso shares.
Much of that warmth seems rooted in classic Greek-style hospitality. “I’m handing out lollies all the time like a Greek mum,” Vasso laughs.
At the end of each session, the group is sharing food and chatting. “It’s one great big family.”
