Art exhibition voices struggle for freedom
Art exhibition voices struggle for freedom
By Amir Sidharta
JAKARTA (JP): Nine images of hands sign various letters of the
alphabet. In front of each letter is a short pedestal equipped
with a wooden stamp and stamp pad with which people can print the
letters the sign represents.
Quietly but effectively, F.X. Harsono's piece spells out D E M
O K R A S I, voicing an on-going concern of the artist. Voice
without a Voice/Sign, is one of eight pieces of Suara exhibited
at the Galeri Seni Rupa, Jl. Medan Merdeka Timur (opposite the
Gambir Railway Station), Central Jakarta, until Friday.
Most of the pieces are presented in a highly ordered fashion,
reflecting the artist's graphic design background. At the same
time, however, they convey his serious dedication to art.
Harsono's presentation of his works, that were previously
exhibited in Australia, is an effort to show the works in
Indonesia as works-in-progress.
However, Harsono's recent works are stronger than even a
modified previous one.
The most interesting of his previously shown pieces, modified
from one shown at the Asia-Pacific Contemporary Art Triennial at
Brisbane's Queensland Art Gallery, is Monument of
Reflection/Voice of Culture of Violence.
The centerpiece of the exhibition, it presents a pyramidal
structure of bamboo encircled by panels of mirrors. Images from
the Borobudur temple, some from the hidden Maha Karmavibangga
reliefs of hell on the base of the famous Buddhist stupa, are
silk-screened onto the reflective surfaces of the pyramid. The
pictures of guns, tanks, and war ships placed on the mirrors
facing the pyramid, are representative of his intentions in
portraying "the culture of violence with which we are long
familiar," he said in a Kompas article.
Although his use of mirrors attempts to trigger self-
introspection, the work is not haunting enough to evoke the
viewer's memories of violence.
Voice from the Throne/Power and Oppression stages a chair,
symbolizing the seat of power, enhanced by kris and fire images
stenciled on a white backdrop. Mounds of dirt, each covered with
a white cloth tainted with blood, arranged in front of the chair,
provoke images of victims of an oppressive hegemony. The barbed
wire encircling the chair is a militaristic element which further
distances the power from the victims.
His recent works, predominantly executed this year, are much
more specific and are clearly undergirded by substantial
research.
Voices from the Base of the Dam/Devotional Visit presents an
arrangement of objects and crafts found in Madura. Microphones
connected to water-filled terra-cotta vessels are placed in front
of these objects. Rather eerie sounding voices trickle out from
black pots covered with small twigs, placed within these vessels.
The recordings of children's chants, musical ensembles, and
interviews with farmer's from Sampang, voice the Madurese
perception of their land as being adequately productive.
Dialog
This work is meant to illustrate a central-periphery
difference in the perception of welfare. Harsono stresses the
need for dialog in order to reduce this difference.
The most developed work is perhaps That Woman Said or Words of
the Woman, which is set in two rooms. Images of daily life
projected onto a white sheet at the entrance implies an
atmosphere of social change. As the viewer enters the first
chamber, the monotonous sound of a drum amplifies the repeating
sequence of two slides showing a concrete pile-driver at work;
the voice of development.
Opposite the projection, is a back lit panel of nine
variations of the image of Kartini, a pioneer of the emancipation
of Indonesian women. Windows are cut in the middle of three
images in the second row. Smaller images of Marsinah, the
deceased labor activist, lie within the left and right panels,
flanking an image of Kartini in the middle.
In the dark second chamber, a video shows a woman, enacted by
dancer Laksmi Simanjuntak, attempting to seize an oil lamp which
is symbolic of Kartini's light of freedom.
"Freedom has to be seized," states an interpretive voice.
Unfortunately, the lamp falls and creates a fire. The struggle to
achieve freedom will not be without sacrifice.
Finally, Harsono's arrangement of mouthless wooden masks on a
piece of black cloth seems merely to be an effort to include the
Indonesian Memorandum, signed by artists and intellectuals in
reaction to the recent press bans, into the exhibition.
It is clear that the artist has not put enough thought into
the piece's development. As a result, it fails to reflect the
content and intentions of the statement.
Suara not only reflects the work of a contemporary Indonesian
artist, but also voices a social commentary on the current
political situation in Indonesia. The artist's struggle for
freedom of expression is voiced through the exhibition, but
whether or not the exhibition can trigger other voices remains to
be seen.
"Do we still have a voice?" asks the artist.
By Amir Sidharta
JAKARTA (JP): Nine images of hands sign various letters of the
alphabet. In front of each letter is a short pedestal equipped
with a wooden stamp and stamp pad with which people can print the
letters the sign represents.
Quietly but effectively, F.X. Harsono's piece spells out D E M
O K R A S I, voicing an on-going concern of the artist. Voice
without a Voice/Sign, is one of eight pieces of Suara exhibited
at the Galeri Seni Rupa, Jl. Medan Merdeka Timur (opposite the
Gambir Railway Station), Central Jakarta, until Friday.
Most of the pieces are presented in a highly ordered fashion,
reflecting the artist's graphic design background. At the same
time, however, they convey his serious dedication to art.
Harsono's presentation of his works, that were previously
exhibited in Australia, is an effort to show the works in
Indonesia as works-in-progress.
However, Harsono's recent works are stronger than even a
modified previous one.
The most interesting of his previously shown pieces, modified
from one shown at the Asia-Pacific Contemporary Art Triennial at
Brisbane's Queensland Art Gallery, is Monument of
Reflection/Voice of Culture of Violence.
The centerpiece of the exhibition, it presents a pyramidal
structure of bamboo encircled by panels of mirrors. Images from
the Borobudur temple, some from the hidden Maha Karmavibangga
reliefs of hell on the base of the famous Buddhist stupa, are
silk-screened onto the reflective surfaces of the pyramid. The
pictures of guns, tanks, and war ships placed on the mirrors
facing the pyramid, are representative of his intentions in
portraying "the culture of violence with which we are long
familiar," he said in a Kompas article.
Although his use of mirrors attempts to trigger self-
introspection, the work is not haunting enough to evoke the
viewer's memories of violence.
Voice from the Throne/Power and Oppression stages a chair,
symbolizing the seat of power, enhanced by kris and fire images
stenciled on a white backdrop. Mounds of dirt, each covered with
a white cloth tainted with blood, arranged in front of the chair,
provoke images of victims of an oppressive hegemony. The barbed
wire encircling the chair is a militaristic element which further
distances the power from the victims.
His recent works, predominantly executed this year, are much
more specific and are clearly undergirded by substantial
research.
Voices from the Base of the Dam/Devotional Visit presents an
arrangement of objects and crafts found in Madura. Microphones
connected to water-filled terra-cotta vessels are placed in front
of these objects. Rather eerie sounding voices trickle out from
black pots covered with small twigs, placed within these vessels.
The recordings of children's chants, musical ensembles, and
interviews with farmer's from Sampang, voice the Madurese
perception of their land as being adequately productive.
Dialog
This work is meant to illustrate a central-periphery
difference in the perception of welfare. Harsono stresses the
need for dialog in order to reduce this difference.
The most developed work is perhaps That Woman Said or Words of
the Woman, which is set in two rooms. Images of daily life
projected onto a white sheet at the entrance implies an
atmosphere of social change. As the viewer enters the first
chamber, the monotonous sound of a drum amplifies the repeating
sequence of two slides showing a concrete pile-driver at work;
the voice of development.
Opposite the projection, is a back lit panel of nine
variations of the image of Kartini, a pioneer of the emancipation
of Indonesian women. Windows are cut in the middle of three
images in the second row. Smaller images of Marsinah, the
deceased labor activist, lie within the left and right panels,
flanking an image of Kartini in the middle.
In the dark second chamber, a video shows a woman, enacted by
dancer Laksmi Simanjuntak, attempting to seize an oil lamp which
is symbolic of Kartini's light of freedom.
"Freedom has to be seized," states an interpretive voice.
Unfortunately, the lamp falls and creates a fire. The struggle to
achieve freedom will not be without sacrifice.
Finally, Harsono's arrangement of mouthless wooden masks on a
piece of black cloth seems merely to be an effort to include the
Indonesian Memorandum, signed by artists and intellectuals in
reaction to the recent press bans, into the exhibition.
It is clear that the artist has not put enough thought into
the piece's development. As a result, it fails to reflect the
content and intentions of the statement.
Suara not only reflects the work of a contemporary Indonesian
artist, but also voices a social commentary on the current
political situation in Indonesia. The artist's struggle for
freedom of expression is voiced through the exhibition, but
whether or not the exhibition can trigger other voices remains to
be seen.
"Do we still have a voice?" asks the artist.