The gossamer curtain

The idea of death is promptly buried out of sight in the west, a state of forever gone.

In the east, death is another story entirely. In Bali, it is cremation season, a time to raise loved ones perhaps long dead or recently passed from mossy beds; to wake sleepy spirits in preparation for their last farewells and the coming journey home to the gods.

During the second and third month of the Balinese calendar, communities meet at burial plots and prepare to dig up the bodies of brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers — family members who while perhaps not breathing, are still here in spirit.

There is an extraordinary tenderness in these reunions as skeletons are bathed in perfumed waters, fresh clothing is prepared and fond farewells are made.

“We are sad when we dig our loved ones up for cremation. But we are not scared of the bodies. It feels like we are meeting once again and we don’t cry. It’s not nice to cry, because it tells the souls we are not willing for them to go. We are proud to help them go,” says 51-year-old Wayan Lebih of Banjar Juga in Mas. He says the atmosphere at the exhumations is festive.

“It’s really busy, there are a lot of people. There are children. They are not scared when we dig up the bodies; they come along, it is really busy, it’s like meeting family,” Wayan says.

To lower the risk of disease from recently interred bodies, newly deceased are cremated some weeks ahead of the community cremations called ngaben and their ashes kept safe.

According to Tengkulak Kaja village head, 67-year-old Gusti Made Mawa, decomposing bodies from his village are raised and cremated before dawn by people trained in this difficult task.

“As a community we exhume only long dead bodies that have decayed to their bones. We have special people who take the newly dead from their graves so not everyone sees these — this is to prevent trauma when people might even vomit or become frightened. The bodies are then washed and burned before joining the ngaben ceremony,” Gusti says.

There is great wisdom in Balinese burial practices, besides families having real time to grieve and to meet one last time before the souls depart to the heavens, the reusable family burial plots ensure land space is not lost to the dead.

“In my village, I have a family burial plot. It measures around 12 meters by 3 meters — it has never been full, so there is always space to bury our dead,” says Wayan, pointing out that once a body has been taken from its resting place in the humid earth and cremated, the burial plot becomes usable again.

Over the next few weeks, Wayan and others in his village will spend days preparing for a collective cremation, removing bodies from family burial plots and sending their souls through the smoke to the gods, with their burnt remains tossed into the sea.

“In the past we carried these remains to the rivers that led out to the sea, but now with better transport we take them straight to the beach. We do this so the souls can return to their roots,” says Wayan while explaining that people are made up of four elements: earth, wind, fire and air. Balinese cremation ceremonies ensure all these elements are restored.

To do this demands ceremonies repeated many times. The magnificent mass cremations are like the tip of an iceberg,  more discreet are the daily and weekly rituals for the dead that begin long before the cremation and continue for weeks after, from the calling of the spirits of the dead through the sanggar urip three days ahead of the cremation and the calling on the god of death, Siwa, to release the souls under his care, to the repeated burnings of bones and ash and their return to the sea to be called back again to be burnt following the cremation.

“The sanggar urip ceremony happens three days before cremation. At this time we tell the dead it is time to go, and we ask Siwa to release the souls before cremation so they can return to their roots,” says Wayan, who on Sept. 22 will send his older brother to the heavens, journeying on the smoke and flames of his sarcophagus.

The weeks spent creating offerings, building sarcophagi and taking time off work to give the hours to the community ahead of the collective cremations takes a massive toll on community resources, but it is most often a shared toll, says Wayan.

He earns around Rp 1.3 million (US$150) per month, just enough to keep his family fed, housed and educated; his brother’s cremation will set him back Rp 7 million. If Wayan was going it alone he would be looking at a bill of more than Rp 30 million.

“My brother was a teacher so he received insurance that pays for his cremation. In our community if people don’t have this money we all chip in, because people must be cremated within five years of dying. If not, the spirits start to become agitated and begin disturbing the community.

Readying: Local residents put the finishing touches on weeks of work in preparation for a ngaben or cremation ceremony.At community meetings people start making decisions that not all agree with and there is fighting — so harmony is lost. That is why we have collective funerals every five years, to make sure the ghosts don’t disturb the living,” says Wayan of the gossamer curtain that barely separates the physical and metaphysical worlds in Bali.

In Gusti’s village of Tengkulak Kaja, men are busy decorating sarcophagi shaped like bulls while women create thousands of offerings.

“We hold collective cremations every three years, sometimes more often. If families have mayat [bodies] to cremate they pay Rp 5 million, everyone else in the village donates Rp 250,000, so it’s gotong royong [working together],” says Gusti, who is quick to say, “the payment for a collective funeral is less than the Rp 45 million it would cost for an individual cremation, but the quality is exactly the same so it’s good for the people. Why? Because people pay a little, yet receive high quality because we use gotong royong. 

We feel together; the 500 people in our community are one big family, we share the cost and the emotion,” Gusti says. 

In the background, dozens of women dressed in sarong and kebaya chatter and share stories of loved ones while their hands are busy creating the thousands of banten, or offerings, needed for the collective ngaben.

There is a binding of community spirit in this shared farewell to loved ones that benefits the souls of both the living and the dead.

— Photos By JP/J.B. Djwan

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In preparation for ‘ngaben’

Every day, men, women and children head to the community bale banjar to create the specified offerings — to build the great bamboo platforms that will carry the sarcophagi or make endless baskets to carry the flowers, fruits and rice of offerings.

Gusti Mangku Batur of Tengkulak Kaja says the women of the village make thousands of offerings during the 17 days leading up to a cremation.

“We come together from morning until night every day,” says Mangku of the thousands of man hours spent creating the offerings that, like the sarcophagi, will be burnt during the ngaben.

“This is a time of gotong royong in our community. Collective cremations are more economical. Most of the women here are housewives, but after school is out the young girls also come along to help. This is when they learn how to make the banten, to understand our traditions, so it is also a time of learning, so it’s a very important time,” Mangku says.

There is, she says, an added incentive in volunteering their time for the cremation preparations — ghosts.

“We hope never to be disturbed by ghosts. These are of people who have not been cremated and sent home to the gods within five years of dying. That is why here in Tengkulak we have collective ngaben every year — or every three years at the longest. We have never seen ghosts, but if we do, there is another special ceremony for them so they too can return to their roots,” says Mangku of the Bali Hindu insurance policy against ghosts.

So seriously is this notion taken that every Balinese community receives financial support from both the regional and provincial governments.

“Our local government donates Rp 3 million and we receive Rp 10 million from the provincial government,” Gusti says.

Alongside this are the donations from every family, says Wayan of Banjar Juga.

“Every man donates one bamboo pole, two coconut leaf stems and whatever else we have in abundance, so if someone has a lot of coconut trees they give coconut fronds and fruits,” says Wayan of the traditions of sharing that keep Balinese communities alive and well, even during their rituals of death.

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‘Motion/Sensation’: An exhibition of kinetic art

The Kinetic Art Exhibition titled “Motion/Sensation” organized by Edwin’s Gallery at the Jakarta Art District in Grand Indonesia reveals that Indonesian artists have been making kinetic art long before the term became an understanding in art creation.

Heri Dono, for instance, is known for the low-tech devices that he uses to attract viewers to his art installations. By the early 1980s when he thought painting was finished, Heri Dono — who had immersed himself in scientific reading about Gestaltung, design, form and Newton’s gravitational theory — began something that took him out of his lethargy; he made Aquarium with moving elements splashing in water “to heighten a sense of sensation”, he said.

Since then, motion through low-tech devices has appeared in almost all of his 3-D works and installations. His installation Flying Angels, with flapping wings generated by low-tech devices, has been shown in many parts of the world. The current show’s installation, Watching the Marginal People, which was made in 2000, features heads of monstrous creatures with moving beaks and sounds emerging from a transistor.

Handiwirman, for example, shows an interactive sewing machine with a sculpture of a woman’s head beside it. When you turn the handle of the sewing machine very fast, tears come out of the sculpture’s eyes. “Why the tears?” I asked the artist. “Ngga tega [I feel sorry]”, he said. 

Bagus Pandega’s Autism Spectrum is given a special dark space where it invites one to use the mike and shout. Immediately, the connected gramophone starts playing, the light ball erupts into a colored flicker and one can tap dance to the rhythm of a tone. This is a reflection of how technological advances have led to human’s self-gratification, an indulgence that has no need for living communication.

Rudi Hendriatno’s beautifully crafted Wood Engine must be manually generated. Others are just to look at.

Octora, an artist who engages with the female in her works, is represented with a wooden doll’s sculpture titled Laura in Paradise, putting the accent on a red silicone heart whose pumping heartbeat is made visual. She said at some point she realized how complicated life was, and being a doll or a puppet would make life easier. Yet, there are times that one must act like a human being, and that’s where the heart comes into play, she said.

Yani Mariani’s Soulmate sculpture, featuring two giant balls made of steel plates with little birds on top, starts trembling when a switch is pushed, and may be a metaphor for a partnership in which what happens to one affects the other. 

Hardiman Rajab’s use of suitcases as a metaphor is also apparent in this show. NATO (No Action Talk Only) is the title of the suitcase with lids featuring a mouth with a row of teeth that moves up and down.

Edwin Rahardjo, the owner of the 25-year-old Edwin’s Gallery, makes his entry as an artist with a work titled Floating Fleets, featuring an installation of six winged objects made of a mix of aluminum durl, carbon fiber, metal and a generating motor; it is a work to send one’s imagination meandering. Edwin said it is up to the viewer’s imagination to decide what the work features. It could be a fleet of planes, or angels flapping their wings and flying in the heavens or dragonflies roaming in nature. 

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But is everything moving kinetically? And what about the video? Why is Mella Jaarsma’s video titled Square Body in this kinetic show? 

Curator Agung Jennonghujanikka explained that not everything moving is a kinetic piece of art.
A train, for instance, has nothing to do with kinetic art.  As for Mella’s video, it is in fact a documentation of the performance, presented in the show titled “Beyond the Dutch” at the Utrecht Centraal Museum in 2009 and 2010. What is important is the moving of the actual dress in slow motion mimicking the Javanese bedoyo dance, the shadows playing a role like in wayang. Agung said Mella’s work is unique in its linking the kinetic with performance, theater (the shadow play) and dance (the slow motion of the bedoyo). 

The exhibition, which also includes works by Agus Suwage, Deden Sambas, Jompet Kuswidnanto, Septin Harriyoga, Wiyoga Muhardanto and Yuli Prayitno, provides a new perspective on Indonesian artistic practice, indicating a trend that visibly deviates from the early kinetic art created in the West.

And, it is a lot of fun.

‘Motion/sensation’
Indonesian Kinetic Art Exhibition
until August 21, 2011
at Jakarta Art District
Grand Indonesia East Mall, LG
(ex Harvey Nichols space)
Jakarta

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Art Jog 2011 making its mark

Featuring 251 paintings, sculptures, installations and videos from 165 artists, the exhibits were selected from 3,500 submissions by 1,770 hopefuls.

Due to the limited space, not all the works could be displayed, but a complete selection is available in the catalogue.

A greater emphasis this year was placed on three dimensional works, with artistic director Bambang Toko Witjaksono challenged to “reshape” the TBY building inside and out.

For example, he provided over 20 tons of clay for Eddi Prabandono’s giant sculpture, which was placed in a big hole especially made in front of TBY.

Compared to last year’s event, which was dominated by entries from Yogyakarta and Bandung, the artists this year hail from a wider range of cities including Medan, Jakarta, Surabaya, Bali and smaller towns such as Ngawi, Boyolali and Mojokerto, as well as one artist from Singapore.

In addition to submitted works, Art Jog 2011 also features commissioned art by Eddi Prabandono
and Krisna Murti. Eddi created his fifth Series of Luz, a sculpture of a giant sleeping child placed in a big hole in front of the building. Luz is Eddi’s five-year-old daughter who lives in Japan.

An innovation this year is the showcasing of the works of seven prominent Indonesian artists who have never been exhibited in the country before, under a special presentation program.

The works of Ay Tjoe Christine, I Nyoman Masriadi, Budi Kustarto, Rudi Mantofani, Jumaldi Alfi, Tisna Sanjaya and Handiwirman Saputra were all on display.

Also being exhibited are project presentations that feature portions of long-term art projects still in progress, including several video projects such as the Mas Toni Blank Show, containing numerous interviews by X-Code Films and photography essays on Ketoprak Tobong (traditional Javanese drama) by Budi N.D. Dharmawan.

Krisna Murti, an Indonesian video art pioneer, was commissioned to make a video about endangered diversity.

Pluralism is symbolized by Muslim women dressed in different veils and outfits.

The women stand in a row and are given a series of identical commands, but each responds differently. Krisna installed four projectors and a makeshift pool so the images of the women are reflected in the water.

Krisna wants to leave it to the spectators to interpret the video. He said he was intrigued by the similarities in the way the women wore their head scarves but that there were differences that often led to conflict.

As an artist, Krisna said he was not obliged to give solutions to questions he raised through his art.

Another interesting video exhibition was the series by Anggun Priambodo, Aku Seperti Burung Terbang Bebas (I am like a free bird flying) and Belajar Miring (Learning to Lean Walk), in which the model in the video learns how to stand up by leaning his body, a method that leads to funny and fascinating movements.

One of the installation works incorporating mixed media was The Jester Court created by prominent artist Heri Dono.

The work resembles a courtroom with a robotic model of a funny looking old man seated at a microphone made of a used flashlight.

Two long-nosed faces opposite the old man are meant to be the accused or the plaintiffs. Behind them are ten small, makeshift drums with lights and sticks inside, representing a courtroom gallery.

As usual, Heri Dono designed his installation to be interactive. By pushing a knob on the wall next to the exhibit, the sticks in the drums make music and the robotic old man and the two faces move. Unfortunately, many visitors were not aware of the knob.

Yudhi Sulistyo was another artist offering new concepts at Art Jog 2011. Last year, he created an airplane exhibit and this year he created a military jeep out of cardboard, PVC, synthetic rubber and other materials, calling the detailed, 200x190x360-centimeter installation Just a Toy.

Adi Gunawan stayed true to his series of fiberglass sculptures of fat pigs. Anak Emas (Golden Boy) depicted a sow surrounded by her piglets. One piglet is seated on her back while carrying another one with golden skin.

Adi said this work portrayed the reality of families in which there was often a “golden boy” — a favorite child. Such favoritism is also common in political and bureaucratic systems.

A number of artists used digital printing for their paintings, including works by Ashley Bickerton, who integrated acrylic and digital print on canvas for his paintings Gold Hirst Family and Gold Scooter.

Last Sup(p)er Women by A. Taufik B. Ramadhan. JP/Munarsih SahanaBy not imposing a theme on this year’s exhibition, a wider variety of techniques and concepts were presented, according to Aminudin T. H. Siregar, the event’s curator for the previous three years.

“Art Jog itself is the theme,” Siregar said, adding that themes have inevitably limited artists’ aesthetic explorations.

Heri Pemad, the founder of Art Jog, is working to make the event as prestigious as other international exhibitions.

Lorenzo Rudolf, former director of Art Basel, and several prominent art collectors from Singapore were invited to share their experience in managing world-class art fairs.

Rudolf said he was impressed by the vibrant progress of visual art in Indonesia — especially Yogyakarta. He suggested that Art Jog should not copy any other art fairs, but develop gradually and keep promoting nationally and internationally by inviting influential figures from the global art scene.

Art Jogja 2011 runs from July 16-29 at Taman Budaya Yogyakarta, Jl. Sri Wedani 1, Yogyakarta Open every day: 9 a.m. - 9 p.m.

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A portrait of Javanese values

Love, harmony and serenity are among the values taught for people to live by.  Based on some Javanese values, the “Java Dwipantara” art exhibition features some realism paintings that are as striking as their inspirations. 

The Javanese word sumeleh refers to a pure and peaceful state of mind without greed or any need to be restless. Achieving this would be valued as a perfect life. Perhaps our inability to reach this is the cause of our troubled world.  

Using Javanese values, contemporary artist Yuli Kodo translates today’s social and political conditions into striking artworks currently on display at Hadiprana Gallery in South Jakarta.

Curated by Aa Nurjaman, “Java Dwipantara” is Yuli’s first solo exhibition.

In this collection of more than 25 paintings, Yuli brings us through a passage into philosophical Javanese lives.

He reflects implicit messages of Javanese literature into an art form with a culturally bounded atmosphere. His style can be categorized as “realism” painting, putting together symbolic elements represented in today’s context.

“I based this collection on a Javanese song that represents the 11 stages in life from birth to death,” Yuli said when met during the exhibition’s opening ceremony on July 18.

The song he was referring to is “Tembang Mocopat”, 11 steps in life from Maskumambang (embryo) to Pucung (burial), which is a philosophical guide for an ideal life.

Yuli’s Javanese intellectuality is derived from his background. Born and raised in the vicinity of the Yogyakarta royal palace, Yuli lived by the Javanese belief of Kejawen. A particular atmosphere that he projects in this collection is the appreciation of life led by the element of balance. 

The values of “Tembang Mocopat” are translated into symbols. This collection can be generally categorized into three themes. The first pictures the philosophical lives of Javanese men and women, the second presents traditional children’s games, while the third is dedicated to the palace. 

White painted faces dominate most of his subjects. This signature element is meant as a mask, which symbolizes people’s masked characters. “People go out with their masks; we may never know what’s inside them,” he explained. 

Bapa Angkasa Ibu Pertiwi is an example of the first theme, picturing how the roles of men and women complete life in the universe. He explains that in Javanese philosophy men guide life, while women are the key to prosperity.

This is followed by Mimi lan Mintuno, in which a woman kneels with a pot of water while her man stands tall with a stick to protect them. Through these elements he emphasizes balance in life.

Yuli praises women as the source of our existence. The painting Perempuan pictures a woman dressed in batik standing among tulips on water with her arms out. 

On her head is the moon, her chest the sun and between her legs is the earth, a representation of a complete life. The sun being the heart illuminates the mind and the womb, which is the birth of life.  

The painter also uses many Javanese idioms to represent the context of political and social realities.

As an Indonesian, it would be easier to take in the meaning of the symbols as they are bound to Javanese cultural values. 

He implies that this collection may just look like a photograph, but with a thorough look you’ll see that they don’t stray far from today’s context.

One painting titled Ing Ngarso Sung Tulodho, Ing Madyo Mangun Karso, Tut Wuri Handayani portrays six children standing behind one another with the leader confronted by another boy with a stick.

Taken from a Javanese idiom, it’s a reminder to (political) leaders that they are responsible and while the people behind them will always follow those in front, they have a right to remind their leaders when taking the wrong way.

Panglima (commander) is part of the third theme, portraying a palace commander escorted by palace guards. His firm figure represents Ningrat, with Ning meaning tranquility and rat meaning the universe.

This describes the spiritual condition within a nobleman (priyayi). As such, Ningrat can be achieved by anyone able to overcome one’s own body and soul and hence be worthy a leader.  

“Java Dwipantara” presents a look into the roots of Javanese culture embodied by the various symbols of its philosophies. Yuli Kodo’s works show that cultural values still concur with today’s realities.


Java Dwipantara

July 11-27, 2011
Hadiprana Gallery
Jl. Kemang Raya No. 30, South Jakarta

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Uniform, The marking or dissolving of identity?

In any period of time, there have been people who were curious and critical, and others who just went with the flow and took things for granted.

Jim Allen Abel, Jimbo for short, who was born in Luwu, the cradle of the Bugis creation, epos, Sureq Galigo, initially did not belong to either group of people.

But as he grew up, he began to question the role of a teacher in shaping the mind of students; with his father being a history teacher, he understood that a teacher in the service of an institution like the government cannot express personal visions.

His solo exhibition, “Uniform_code”, currently on view at D’gallery in South Jakarta, tackles the interesting theme of the uniform.

But the photographic images would fail to have significant meaning without background stories to place them within their specific social situations.

Once revealed, the perfect photographs become a fascinating visual documentation of the spirit of our time.

As the “building” of identity became a national pursuit with the founding of this repubic, ironically, the creation of a national identity as well as the ensuing formation of uniforms as a part of institutional identity now tend to erase the individual — the personal — as visualised in the photographic images of hooded figures clad in their professional uniforms.

Jimbo revealed that the idea for this project began after his conversations with his late father some time ago.

The uniform that Jimbo has seen his father put on day in, day out, became a representation of the very issue it triggered.

He became aware that uniforms were in fact everywere: not only were they worn by those in the military or the police, but also civil servants, shop attendants, school children, boy scouts, or anyone working for a company.

And he noted how, in fact, the personal identity of all the members belonging to these groups vanished into the various uniforms.

“Uniform_code”, as the show is titled, focuses on social groups — police, civil servant, military, security guards, street sweepers and medical staff — in which Jimbo himself poses as the model. All of the heads are covered with whatever he finds suitable to the profession.

In Polisi (police), Jimbo put on a complete police uniform, disguised his entire head with roses, set the timer on his camera and printed the image as a digital C print Fuji platinum on Diasec.

Why roses?

Jimbo explained that police are supposed to be nice and wonderful, but in many cases they are threatening. Roses, he says, are usually fragrant, but beware of the thorns.

The street sweeper’s head is covered with cigarette butts, reflecting the many butts found in the street trash, while the civil servant is hooded with the leaves of pare, a bitter vegetable used in Indonesian dishes, because Jimbo’s father’s meager civil servant salary only allowed for that vegetable to be included in the family’s daily menu.

In his creation, head of the satpam (security guards) is concealed under a heap of instant noodle, the only dish he would have on daily basis.

Interestingly, Jimbo elaborates his passport-like images with that of the hooded parking boy jumping against the background of a wall scratched with street art.

Jimbo explains that unlike his other images, which are made to reveal the loss of the personal in the “system”, the parking boy takes advantage of a messy system of parking and does quite well: his hood is made of Rp 1,000 bills.

Jimbo visualizes his father’s unsuccessful efforts to counter the system with action photograpy, featuring a civil servant (Korpri), enacted by himself, in Tut Wuri Handayani. Swinging his axe, he falters as the table on which he stands is wobbly, and he will soon fall down.

Tut Wuri Handayani (2011). Digital C Print Fuji Platinum on Diasec.In a cynical reference to the police, the image of a police officer which is usually associated with regulating the traffic is now set on the beach “playing” circus.

As he further ponders about the power of the army, he decides to form the Army of Me, consisting of one hundred images in rear-view mirrors, occurring particularly on the motorbikes that have become people’s main transporattion in Yogyakarta.

For the work, he had to gather 100 people to wear military uniforms and hold toy guns. For that, he tirelessly visited train stations and university campuses, and approached random people in the street.

The installation of these 100 images, however, would have a much more powerful impact had they been put on a few motorcyles, instead of what is a fairly boring arrangement on a rack.

Jimbo (b.1975) is a graduate of the Interior Design program at Yogyakarta’s Modern School of Design and the Indonesia Institute of Art, also in Yogyakarta, where he studied photography.

He has been awarded residencies in Ruang Mess56, Yogyakarta and in Seoksu Art Project Anyang in South Korea.

He has also been selected to participate in the third edition of Photoquai – Biennial of World Images 2011, which will be held from Sept. 13 until Dec. 4, 2011 in Paris. This event, directed by acclaimed French photographer Françoise Huguier, is dedicated to non-western photography, and is organized by the Musée du Quai Branly.

Uniform_code

A solo exhhibition
by JimAllen Abel
Until Aug. 15, 2011
D’gallery
Jl. Barito No. 3, Kebayoran Baru
South Jakarta
Ph +62 21 7399378/9

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Reconsidering Earth

The exhibition of 35 artists from various countries at North Art Space in Ancol, Jakarta, comes amidst celebrations of the city’s 484th anniversary, and is a timely reminder of the environmental mishaps plaguing the city.

With the hustle and bustle of everyday life, it is easy to forget that we all live on a planet called Earth. And, what seems like a large place for humankind to live on forever in reality needs us to change the way we live if we expect our planet and our city to survive.

The show was a collaborative effort between North Art Space and the Olympia Fine Art Association (OFAA).

As the works in the exhibition reveal, many of the concerns of the participating artists from 22 countries refer to the consequences of the Earth’s destruction to both the physical and mental state of human beings and the living environment.

Reconsidering Nature Religion (Rockwell Lecture)

Indonesian Neneng Ferrier’s work titled Mayday, Mayday features the Earth as hollowed on one side, with the appearance of a cave offering a horrible view of what looks like debris and lava streaming down after the eruption of a volcano while figures desperately try to save themselves. Red lines run over the upper part of the destructed earthball like brains made visible.

The Rupture series of paintings by Babita Das from India show deformed faces that could be caused by chemical or environmental disasters.

The haunting image that Cristina Gori from Italy presents in digital print, the digital painting and inkjet print on canvas by Paul Tiilila from Finland featuring desolate dead wood, the dramatic Passions Trail in acrylic by Riyu Il-seon from Korea, the barren tree by Alessandro Cardinale from Italy — they all make visible the impact of a
destructed Earth.

Sometimes the actual situation appears too hopeless, it can lead a person to indulge in reverie, imagining the good old times when nature and man were in complete harmony.

This is evident in paintings that highlight the beauty of flowers, such as the fresh yellow anemones painted by Lena Kelekian from Lebanon, or Riyu Ilji from Korea who dreams of fresh roses and finds them not in the garden but within the self.

Others like Mohamad Ibrahim Elmasry from Egypt invent plants and flowers in abstract paintings of the most unusual colors.

Innes Indreswari Soekanto from Indonesia perceives the Earth as feminine, a vision revealed with her installation of five traditional Javanese hair buns made of bronze titled Mother Earth.

But more than that, she perceives it as being the land where she was born and raised (Java) as well as the place where she feels at home (Japan). This dualism is evident in her installation of three simple houses titled Furusato (Japanese for homeland), for which each doorlock represents her feelings. On the left is a lock featuring Mount Kanagawa, famous from a woodblock print by the Japanese artist Hokusai in the early 1930s, but getting new relevance with the catastrophic tsunami striking Japan earlier this year.

Another house has a lock featuring Srikandi, the woman of wayang stories, who was born a woman but raised a man.

Srikandi is a figure that Innes herself associates with, as her parents raised her as if she were a man to provide protection to the family. And, there is the lock featuring the Gunungan — essential for every wayang performance — indicating the beginning and end of the performance.

Placed between Mount Kanagawa and Srikandi, the Gunungan appears as the balance between the artist’s past in Java and Japan (the land where she lives and will soon take up a teaching position at the Tokyo University of the Arts).

Like Innes, Argentinian-born US citizen Marisa Caichiolo urges one to reconsider Earth in a way that recognizes the feminine at its most basic and cosmic in nature. She believes women have a special responsibility.

“We must reconnect with the Earth, practice again the female rituals, use our hands and our bodies to reconnect, not through the virtual world of the Internet, but in the real world, with kin, kinship, friends.” But, what she sees as the most important thing is to get rid of the negative in our body.

The Sacred Dresses are works of redemption, referring to the cosmic nature of mankind. Based on philosophies that nurture the mind and body in various cultures and religions of the world, the exhibition shows, among others, one of the two dresses in the show that are based on Buddhist philosophy.

Made of leather and canvas and printed with symbols of peace, added with mixed media on the front that represents the negative that has come out of the body, it is an inspiring piece of work.

Marisa, who is still adding to the 25 such dresses she has already made, will have a solo exhibition in Mexico next year.

Reconsidering Earth

July 8Aug. 7, 2011
North Art Space
Pasar Seni Ancol
Jl. Lodan Timur No. 7
Jakarta Utara, 14430

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Visual art inspired by words

This concept is explored by the daily newspaper Kompas in its Sunday edition, in which it regularly publishes a short story accompanied by an illustration. Thus, the weekly edition presented a short story (cerpen) plus an illustration.

Many of those beautiful illustrations are displayed in an exhibition at Bentara Budaya in Jakarta. Being the 8th annual exhibition of these works, it displays all of the short stories published in 2010.


In a separate room, published short stories with illustrations are on display. This original layout of the text and illustration is displayed in frames and ordered according to the date of publication, from January to December of 2010.

Since its first exhibition in 2003, Kompas’ involvement in contemporary art can be hailed as a success in introducing literature of a more profound dimension.

“The illustrations stand independently, not just to support the text but to give a deeper meaning to it,” Bentara Budaya executive director Efix Mulyadi told the Post at the exhibition hall.

Efix recalls that the idea to feature illustrations with accompanying short stories came to him in about 2002. At that time, Kompas had been publishing short stories in its art column. However, they were only laid out with simple illustrations.

Then, a notion came to put together literature and illustrations through art forms. “Illustrations don’t always have to be like that [simple pictures based on the short story]. They can stand with literature as equals, not as an integral part of it,” Efix emphasized.

A team at Kompas then worked extensively with contemporary artists and writers and started publishing the new illustrated short stories in the same year. Since then, about 50 illustrated short stories have decorated the newspaper’s Sunday column every year (52 stories in a year).
Lelaki yang Membelah Bulan (left) and Kenangan Perkawinan. JP/Wibisono Notodirdjo
This move has been hailed as a success in bringing an integration of art and literature to readers.

The images portrayed here may seem rather abstract. This might be because the pictures don’t pick out every element in the text of the story and literally portray them that way. The narration is translated into shapes, colors and/or tones, using symbols to convey the same message as a whole.

“By making the illustration stand independently as a form of literature, not as a part of a story, it gives a whole new meaning to both the narration and the picture,” he added.

Readers react, he continued, to the soul of a story and this emotion is relayed to the lines and colors of the illustration, hence it becomes a place that’s free for the reader’s interpretations.

Since they can now exist on the same level, the narration does not dictate the illustration, but guides one another for any form of understanding.

More than a hundred of Indonesia’s finest names in art and literature – including artists, poets and writers – have submitted their works since 2003.

Although many of the illustrations seem abstract, they are founded in the short stories.

Artists interpret the plots, messages and motives into the strokes of their brushes or the composition of photographs. Most of them only have five days from the time the short story narration is handed to them to create an illustration.

Despite the short time they have, they manage to create art that perfectly illustrates the profound short stories.

Since they first began being published, the people that brought the illustrated short stories have wanted to bring these works to the public with the intention of promoting literary art.

This has been followed up by annual illustrated short story exhibitions since 2003, in which most of the original artworks have been displayed.

This year’s exhibition was held at Bentara Budaya in Jakarta, Bali, Yogyakarta and Solo (Central Java). Kompas also published a book compiling 18 of the best short stories of 2010.

A short story titled Dodolitdodolitdodolibret by Seno Gumira Ajidarma published on Sept. 26, 2010 was hailed the year’s best short story.

The illustrated short story succeeded in enriching literature with visual art. Now it has become a significant place to promote and develop the best of Indonesian art and literature.

Bentara Budaya jakarta
Jl. Palmerah Selatan No.17, Jakarta.

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