Freedom of expression comes out of the cold in 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.