Thu, 24 Dec 1998

Freedom of expression comes out of the cold in 1998

By Amir Sidharta

JAKARTA (JP): On New Year's Day this year, Soeharto, who was president at the time, designated 1998 as the year of art and culture.

"Through art and culture, we strengthen our identity as a nation and at the same time attract foreign tourists to Indonesia," he said in a nationwide televised address.

The designation came as a surprise to many in the art field, as there was little to indicate such a designation. Later in the year, the Ministry of Tourism was detached from the Ministry of Tourism, Post and Telecommunications, and expanded into the Ministry of Tourism, Arts and Culture. This move received criticism from various academics, who were afraid that the existence of two departments governing the field of art and culture would create confusion. Besides the new ministry, the Ministry of Education and Culture was already in existence.

Whatever the criticism regarding the dualism of the ministries, skeptics were certain that the creation of the new ministry would not be able to make a "year of art and culture" happen just like that.

Economic crisis

Yet, in some ways, 1998 could in fact actually be considered the year of art and culture. Ironically, the economic crisis and the fall of the Soeharto regime greatly contributed to this effect.

Initially, due to the depreciation of the rupiah, which caused massive inflation and ruined the country's economy, resulted in a much reduced spending power among the general public. Moreover, civil unrest culminating in incidents like the May riots have made people reluctant to invest in artwork.

Singapore-based international auction houses, which offer paintings in Singapore dollars, have been affected by the confusion looming over the art market. Some Indonesian collectors who hitherto were uninterested in selling the works in their possession, may consider the auction market currently profitable in rupiah terms, especially as they may face economic difficulty as well. However, there is still uncertainty as to whether or not there will be buyers for the pieces offered.

The pricing of paintings, particularly those purchased in previous auctions, has also caused confusion. It is hard to determine whether to calculate the works based on the rupiah, or Singapore dollars. While dollar prices would be considered tremendously high by potential buyers, rupiah prices would be considered too low for those who want to sell their paintings.

For young Indonesian artists, this year was an interesting period of time. Their contemporary works started to appeal to foreign customers who suddenly saw Indonesian paintings as being much more affordable than previously. This has made Indonesian art, particularly that created by artists who have already gained international recognition, attractive to the international market.

There are also some rather conservative painters who have also been fortunate enough to enjoy the patronage of collectors who are still purchasing artwork.

Many business executives earn dollars and can therefore still afford to buy art.

Certainly, not all Indonesian artists benefit from the economic situation. It would be only fair to mention that artists who have not managed to make a name for themselves, and who are less organized, struggle in getting their works sold.

Furthermore, many artists are finding it increasingly hard to afford basic materials needed to create their artworks.

The fall of the old regime

Following Soeharto's dramatic resignation on May 21, 1998, Habibie's "reform" government promised freedom of expression, not only in the realm of politics but also in art. For a few weeks after the succession, Taman Ismail Marzuki, an art institution under the supervision of the Jakarta administration, became a center for free expression. An open stage nicknamed bongkar (overhaul) was set up in the parking lot of the center, and almost anyone was allowed to speak up or perform on this stage.

The Street-Art Festival held in July in Yogyakarta reflected this freedom of expression. Art forms that previously were limited to interior gallery spaces could now be performed and exhibited more openly.

In spite of the greater freedom, many artists were so disturbed by the state of the country so devastated by the economic crisis, and the nation so troubled with a political crisis, that this new freedom did not lead them to immediately create new work. Among these artists, perhaps the most interesting to note is Sunaryo, who initially reacted to the crises by wrapping his own works in black cloth.

He stated, "The turmoil of our country led me to wrap all of my works. Since the beginning of 1998, I have not been able to create as usual. The feeling of anger, helplessness and deep hurt froze everything, trapped in all critical feelings, and at the end of May 1998, I decided to wrap everything. In the process, an interaction emerged, as if working over another work of art. And there was even a reinterpretation of the works. Folding, tying, weaving. Until when they will remain wrapped, who knows, until the sun of our country starts to shine once again."

However, later this process of the folding, tying, stitching and weaving when wrapping the works turned into Sunaryo's new aesthetic. He even went so far as to rename his old works. At the official opening of his gallery in Bandung in September, he featured all of his works, wrapped in black, in this rather reclusive aesthetic. Ironically, this opening was perhaps the most extravagant art event this year. In addition to presenting his own works, he also invited other artists to perform. Endo Suanda directed a dance performance supported by dancers Maria Darmaningsih, Sulistyo Tirtokusumo and the Mas Nanu Muda dance troupe, with special appearances by poets Sutardji Calzoum Bachri and Danarto. Filmmaker Garin Nugroho also presented one of his films, made especially for this event.

While the event was hailed by the art community at large, some radical young artists had a more sarcastic view. Before the official ceremony, they presented the artist with a vessel of water, and offered to wash his hands for him. As they did this, another artist read a poem that seemed to insinuate that Sunaryo's actions were an attempt to "wash his hands" of his past guilt. They saw that his works had not previously addressed social issues, and therefore were pro-status quo. Now, in the new period of reform, he suddenly appears with his proreform works. Some critical artists observed that his new aesthetic in many ways does indeed reflect this attitude.

Although it is true that his works appealed more to a more conservative audience, can his artistic choice become an issue with which anyone can label him politically? Whatever the case, Sunaryo's new aesthetic does successfully draw its audience to feel the artist's deep sorrow in response to Indonesia's crises.

Many artists also effected by the economic and political situation in the country found it to be a difficult time to be creative. But others, this period provided great inspiration. A group of Indonesian women artists who were working on preparing an exhibition of their works to be shown at the Vatican, started by showing their art at The Regent, Jakarta. The opening was timed inauspiciously -- or in retrospect actually rather auspiciously -- on the May 13, 1998, just when the May riots started to happen in Jakarta.

The riots certainly became a turning point in their future works. The group's second exhibition, held in October at the future National Gallery in Gambir, Central Jakarta, took many viewers by surprise. Artists like Wiranti Tedjasukmana, Ratmini Soedjatmoko, Iriantine Karnaya, Maartri Djorghi, Altje Supangkat and Inda Utoyo, suddenly appeared with works that questioned the rapes and violence against women that happened around the time of the May riots. These works were later exhibited at Pontifical Gregoriana University, the Vatican.

The women's exhibition inspired the organization of another exhibition that dealt with the issue of violence against women, held in December, at Galerikafe Cemara 6, Central Jakarta. Female and male artists participated in this exhibition. Gender issues became the focus of discussions held during the show.

Amid financial difficulty, the 11th Jakarta Biennial was held at Taman Ismail Marzuki in November. In order to raise funds, the Jakarta Arts Foundation organized an auction in conjunction with Sotheby's in Singapore, featuring Indonesian art. Although the auction market was hit by the regional financial crisis, it managed to raise some money that contributed to the biennial.

Although the biennial did show that artists remained creative in this difficult time, it failed to present the latest directions of Indonesian art in the last two years.

Rejecting the biennial, vocal painter Hardi presented his exhibition at a separate venue. Previously he had featured a painting of the reform movement, featuring students on one side and the military on the other side of the legislative building. Just before Soeharto stepped down, Hardi's paintings glorified the president. In 1979, this artist presented a picture of himself, dressed in a general's garb, in a poster titled Presiden Republik Indonesia 2001, Suhardi. Because of this work, he was summoned by security officials and then interrogated and intimidated. Perhaps this could explain the complexity of his psyche.

Indonesian diplomats in Hanoi, Vietnam, tried to block a painting titled Victims in May by a Singaporean artist from entering the Philip Morris ASEAN Art Awards competition. They only succeeded in convincing the artist to change the title of the work. Meanwhile, worldwide media reports have used this incident as focus of the apparent disintegration of the regional organization.

Little did the Indonesian diplomats realize that many of the works of Indonesian artists are highly critical of the government and the May atrocities.

Ironically, Indonesian artist Isa Perkasa's Indonesia is Lamenting, a much more blatant political commentary on the state of the nation, received a Juror's Choice Award at the competition.

Yet, it is true that many are ignorant about what purpose art can serve in society in Indonesia. A discussion around Tisna Sanjaya's work, Tigapuluh Dua Tahun Berpikir dengan Dengkul (Thirty-Two Years of Thinking with Our Elbows), concluded that the artist's work could not only be shown in a gallery or general exhibition spaces, but should be exhibited to a larger audience, in a more public space. The participants of the discussion decided to take the piece to the regional legislative building in Bandung. However, a few days later, the work disappeared, and no one dared to claim responsibility over the piece. Tisna later found the work burned and its remains lying on the garbage dump of the legislative complex.

Ironically, what happened to Tisna's work indeed reflects the exact ignorance that is the result of 32 years of thinking with our elbows. Seven months of relative freedom is evidently not enough to mend the deterioration that has been allowed to happen for 32 years.

We can only hope that the art scene will heal and develop rapidly in the future.

Certainly we will see more manifestations of a relative freedom of expression, that Indonesian artists have enjoyed for almost a full year now, in the years to come. Now, the goal of the artists should be to fight for a complete freedom of expression as part of their basic human rights.