Balinese artist Erawan mouths off about politicians
Text and photos by I Wayan Juniartha
DENPASAR, Bali (JP): Erawan did it again. The versatile artist gave new meaning to the act of tooth brushing in his most recent performance.
Appropriately titled Sikat Gigi, Ritus Seni Pembersih Mulut (Tooth Brush, A Mouth Cleansing Art Ritual) the performance was his expression of dissatisfaction of the current state of this country.
"The odor of their mouths is unbearable, reeking to the extreme, because all these time they were talking about the people's need, presenting themselves as the guardian of the people, but in fact they are doing nothing but exploiting the people for their own benefit," Erawan said, referring to the political elite.
The performance was held on Sunday at Puputan Badung Square in the heart of Bali's capital of Denpasar. Not only did Erawan succeed in making the hundreds in the audience clap, laugh and gawk in awe, but he also managed to keep them watching the two- hour performance until the end.
It was quite an achievement in this age of instant gratification, where everything is supposed to be short, fast, and delicious.
A hundred men, all clad in white, paraded around the square while singing Indonesian heroic songs in the opening scene of the performance. The men then climbed onto the main stage, right in the middle of the square, and hoisted up the national red and white flag. The flag was on top of the pole for a few minutes when all the insanity started.
The men, apparently drunk, started fighting each other. Sickles, swords and knives were brandished in the air. Their lips chanted the primitive words, "cak, cak", while they moved erratically. A demonic figure appeared on the stage and released a cynical laugh, before gunning everybody down with what appeared as an AK-47 submachine gun.
And while the rest of the troupe sung the national anthem Indonesia Raya, in unusually low tones and a melancholic way, the demonic figure began beheading his victims, one by one. He laughed at the bodiless heads before throwing them away. In the background was the half-staff Indonesian flag.
But an artist always has a way to transform the most gruesome details into a beautiful visual presentation.
Erawan exploited the traditional Kecak dance's choreography for his troupe movements and sounds. In fact the troupe was the famous Puspita Jaya Kecak group of Blahkiuh village. The demonic figure itself bore several resemblances to the traditional witch's dance of Celuluk, which always sends chills down the spines of Balinese children.
The beheading scene was also very beautiful in such a scary way. Every time the demonic figure struck his axe, red paint burst from the victim's head into the air, and then onto the white clothes worn by the troupe.
The performance was not only a feast for the eye, with its excellent lighting and the way Erawan played with colors, but also one for the ear. The Para Rupa group of Sukawati village strengthened the performance with its musical pieces that combined the haunting melody of a Balinese angklung ensemble, a highly charged percussion and the dynamic beat of several contemporary musical instruments, such as the sound created by squeezing an empty plastic mineral water bottle.
The peak of the performance was when the troupe, including Erawan, became involved in a mass tooth brushing act.
"This actually is a kind of moral and symbolic call to the people to start contemplating the real issue, the future of this nation, instead of being engulfed by trivial things, such as political bickering, or who's going to be our next president," the performance organizing committee head Iwan Dharmawan said.
Toward the end of the performance, Erawan painted on a giant canvas erected in front of the main stage. Mainly using his fingers and black color, he transformed the canvas into "a jungle" filled with various forms of demonic figures -- sharp fangs, mouths wide open and blood dripping sickles -- some of them wearing formal suits and ties. Ring a bell?
Several minutes later the giant painting was deliberately set ablaze by a man, who was wearing the mask of the traditional Balinese benevolent king character of Dalem and carrying the finely engraved leather Kayonan -- the symbol of the universe -- in his hand.
He then stepped onto the main stage and started playing the two-stringed rebab while watching the flames totally destroy the painting.
"The sound of the rebab is the sound of creative silence, which had existed before the creation of other sounds," Erawan said.
In torching the painting, was Erawan trying to convey the message that the people must utilize violent means to get rid of the monstrous political elite and save the country? Or was he just reminding the people of the centuries old Balinese wisdom on the cycle of life? That chaos was the fertile land on which a new harmony would be born? Or that each thing will end, and each end is a new beginning?
Erawan's obsession with end and destruction was by no means new stuff for this Balinese artist. His earlier works, paintings, installations and performances were created on that philosophy of the cycle of life.
As in his earlier performances, Erawan also succeeded in incorporating Balinese symbols and icons into a new text and context. But it was somewhat less complex than his earlier works, something that made it easier for the general public to understand and appreciate.
At the end of the performance, Erawan and his troupe chanted a verse from the Hindu Tri Sandya daily prayer; the part where man asks for forgiveness from the Lord for all his failings and wrongdoings. The mantra was completed when they uttered the words, "Om, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti, Om" (May there be peace on Earth, in Heaven and Everywhere). It was also the hope of many in the audience.