
PAMELA BY SLY MORIKAWA
PHOTOGRAPHER: Sly Morikawa
STYLIST: Emma Kalfus
STYLIST ASSISTANT: Sophia Murdoch
ART DIRECTOR: Stephanie Huxley & Gen Meighan
HAIR: Gina Yates
MAKEUP: Sean Brady
MOTION EDITOR: Carla Iurato
MODEL: Sarah Ellen and Josh Kempen
WORDS: Courtney Thompson
Back in the COVID era, Sarah Ellen Robertson (better known to most as Sarah Ellen) was looking for a housemate. Faced with the prospect of lockdowns, she knew that whoever moved in, she needed to like because they’d be spending a lot of time together.
Then in walked Josh Kempen. “He was wearing a beret, a pearl necklace and overalls,” Robertson recalls. “And I was like, ‘who is this guy?’ I’ve always gravitated towards people who are a little wacky-do and unique in their own right. I just remember going with my hunch.”

Sarah wears Ethero jacket, Balnciaga sunglasses
That was the first sign. The second occurred one evening early on when the pair were hanging out with friends at home, drinking wine and listening to music. They were going back and forth playing songs when Kempen put on ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond’ by Pink Floyd. “Putting on a 10-minute song is a pretty ballsy thing to do,” Robertson says. “And that was the moment where we were like, OK, let’s get on the floor and get comfortable and go on a journey.’”
Music then, from the beginning, has been the connective tissue between Robertson and Kempen, who are now the twin halves of the band, Pamela. Kempen, who was born in South Africa but raised in Brisbane, had already been a musician and moved to Sydney to study acting. Robertson had a background in music, but her career had taken her down a route where acting, modelling and creative direction took precedence. They have opposite artistic instincts; he was firmly rooted in rock, while she gravitated towards dance music. But when Robertson saw Kempen jamming in his pyjamas in the living room, she told him, “We should write a song together.”
So one night, they did. “Not to be cliche, but it just felt magical, you know?” Robertson says. “Like, we were in this beautiful creative state where I was so impressed by his instincts and he was so impressed by mine. Because we have such different influences and instincts, the melodies, words or lyrics that he would come up with were nothing like what I would’ve come up with. I think that’s what really drew us to each other when it came to writing music together in the first place; we were just so curious about each other’s creative process.”
One song became two, which became many. Kempen wrote lyrics and poems on paper; Robertson transformed them into a story to share. That environment of experimentation, and the absence of pressure to create music that anyone else would hear, was formative for what Pamela would soon become. “Music, for us, afforded quite a lot of freedom when we were writing,” Kempen explains. “To not try to write a viral TikTok song, not try to write any sort of hit, not try to write any sort of specific style. It became quite a rich foundation for our songwriting and I think that’s why today we have quite an eclectic and diverse body of music. Our philosophy has always been, from the very beginning, to make music that we love, and to make music for us, you know, and we hope it connects with other people.”
As Pamela, they share lead vocals. The result is a conversation; different perspectives of the same story. The music is a nonchalant take on indie-pop, bubbling with humour and characterised by a defiance to categorisation. At one moment it’s garage-rock and the next, psychedelic electronica. The songs that make up their debut EP, It’s Nice To See You Here, plumb the depths of attraction, jealousy, flirtation and love but never feel weighed down by self-seriousness or cynicism. Even when it slows down, it’s really fun to listen to.
Which is exactly what the pair are trying to do. “For me, the movies, the books, the music that I’ve always gravitated towards have a sense of humour, even if it’s subtle,” says Kempen. “I feel like it’s important to be optimistic. You know, playing a song you’ve written is one of those rare moments that you can empower yourself to feel feelings you might otherwise be afraid of. Our job as artists is to convey that in a way that would uplift the listener, rather than fall into nihilism or pessimism.”
The shedding of any ego has been paramount to the success of the project. “Josh and I started making music together because we were having fun doing it, and we want to continue to have fun doing it, and we want people to have fun listening to it,” Robertson says.
It was Robertson who first suggested they expand their musical horizons into live performance. “I saw one of my friends – Dom from Pacific Avenue – play at Oxford Art Factory, and he was having so much fun on stage,” she remembers. “I was so curious about that feeling, and so I said to Josh the next day, ‘We should put on a show for our friends, none of our friends have heard our music before, which is crazy to think about because it’s such a big part of our lives.’” Since their debut gig at Newtown’s Pleasure Club, Pamela has played around Australia, including supporting Angus Stones’s Dope Lemon. They’re currently touring Europe and the UK.

Josh wears Loewe leather pants
Beyond the music, they’ve built a distinct artistic perspective through a commitment to owning the entire visual world of Pamela. They ideate, direct and edit their own music videos, infused with an absurdism inspired by Salvador Dalí. “Within Pamela, we’re always trying to make things symbolic and have a sense of surrealism, like something out of this world,” Robertson explains. They’re also informed by their shared love of cinema, with videos referencing such cult classics as Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (in ‘Chain Reaction’), Pulp Fiction (in ‘Skin Contact’), and Fish Tank (in ‘Pandemonium’). “From the very beginning, we obviously had the love for music, but we thought how exciting that we get to create a world that the music lives in too.”
The success of their creative partnership is a testament to the close bond they share, which is an emotional alchemy that escapes convenient explanation. “We make each other feel safe, seen and heard and I don’t know why,” Robertson admits. “Maybe that’s what makes us interested in being creative in the first place; we’re about interactions that are not surface level, or at least, that’s how we feel with each other, for sure. We’re drawn to each other because we know there’s always going to be honesty between us.”
The sum is greater than its parts, Kempen says. “One thing we can probably rely on is that both of us, expressing ourselves and finding middle ground, is going to be better than anything we would’ve wanted to do alone.”





















