Tue, 21 May 2002

Laksmi transforms emotion into artistic sufferings and love

Carla Bianpoen, Contributor, Jakarta

In the minds of many people of old traditions, the roles for which women were destined were silent ones, with tasks mostly relegated to obscurity in a society that focused exclusively on the deeds of men.

Distinct preference given to men has proven to be denigrating to women.

Robbed of their proper dignity, women tended to hide in themselves, some poised to regain their own selves with hard work and excelling in what they did, others however, tended to be pushed into a void from which to recover was a long process in which the images of the past continue to hover over their lives.

The paintings by Laksmi Shitaresmi (b. 1974) currently showing at Kupu-Kupu Fine Art Gallery until June 1 testify to the intense horror that continues to hound her mental state even during her moments of personal happiness.

Somber hues and vexed gazes denoting fierce anger, but also intense horror and a harrowing fragility, fill her canvases in self-revealing liberation of her past.

For Laksmi, a graduate of the Yogyakarta Arts Institute, painting is not only to express pain, grief, anger and horror, but rather it is to overcome grief through transforming emotions into gesture, brushstroke and color.

Often her self-esteem drops to almost zero as revealed in Aku Cuma Sekecil Ini (I am only this small), and the tiny little figures in other paintings, but the titles denote life's dynamics that keep one going.

Sesungguhnya kamu bukan domba (In fact you are not a sheep), says the title of a painting depicting a wolf holding a tiny female figure on the edge of a dagger.

Another painting shows a figure hovering between a human and a beast-like appearance, whose one arm is a serpent, the other arm a claw holding a tiny white rabbit and his penis is featured as a long winding thorny arrow. It is titled Sudah dari sononya kamu keparat (You are a born devil).

Trying to overcome such a haunting past, Laksmi draws hope and energy from her current life with a loving husband and an adorable daughter.

Kasmaran (Be in love) is a series of paintings in which female nudes filled with intense love take the center stage. Rumah kami (Our house) depicts a landscape consisting of a white stream at the end of which is a tree that sends out a branch meandering all the way to the other end of the stream, where it opens up in a bunch of lotus flowers denoting new life to the woman, the man and their little girl. A deep dark blue to the left and the right of the stream denote the near-perfect bliss of the happy family. Yet the nightmare keeps coming back, cutting short optimistic plans and schedules.

Aku sanggup melepaskan dahagamu (I can deliver you from your thirst) says the title of a work depicting a face with a sad expression but clear gaze and holding a rosary.

Patahan-Patahan Pagi and Patahan-Patahan Senja each shows a female figure almost completely buried under the sand on which little sprouts denote the many plans and expectations, but also the doubts and fears that emerge every morning and at twilight.

"I live in constant apprehension that bad things might happen again," she reveals.

Harapku, Semoga Makin Merunduk and Harapku, Semoga Tetap Putih express hopes of diminishing haunts and lasting improvement, but the wide-open vexed eyes of the faces indicate continuing fright and terror.

"As I lie down way after midnight and try to put my body to rest, images of the past keep returning, tearing me apart, again and again," she says.

Most remarkable in the exhibition is the transformation from the tiny and the fragile, the fearsome and the vulnerable into the series of 10 powerful, manly faces, in which the story of her life's experiences is narrated.

At a time when strong impulses of egalitarian gender relationships and the struggle on violence against women are in full swing, canvases like Laksmi's are strong substantiating testimonies.

Regretfully, neither the space, nor the lighting and display, or the placing of images of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera in the front of the gallery, helped to bring Laksmi's works to their full advantage.

The exhibition runs until June 1 at the Kupu-Kupu Fine Art Gallery, Jl. Kebon Sirih 17-19, Jakarta, phone 39 83 6621/22. Closed on Sundays and public holidays.