Museums need to change with times: Expert

Museums need to change with times: Expert

By Bruce Emond

JAKARTA (JP): Sudarmadji Damais, popularly known as Adjie
Damais, knows a thing or two about museums. The head of the
Jakarta History Museum from 1989 to 1999 has spent more than a
quarter century in the museum world, earning respect for his part
in the stunning makeover of the Taman Fatahillah area in North
Jakarta.

He has his own very personal ideas on why public interest is
lacking in museums in Jakarta and the few scattered in cities
around the country.

And he also is ready with answers for those Indonesian
intellectuals who have an enduring lament about the state of the
country's museums.

Generally, it's a state of disrepair, of musty collections
unseen and little thought of by most Indonesians, who would
rather take in some window shopping at a gleaming mall.

Blame is laid liberally on both museum directors, for not
doing enough to gain interest, and the public, for lacking the
intellectual curiosity to take a look at their past.

For Adjie, the problem is not so simple as finding fault with
either museum administrators for being set in their ways, or the
cultural ignorance of the man in the street who is more
interested in filling his stomach and keeping up with the latest
sinetron.

He believes it is a more complex issue of taking the generally
accepted concept of museums borrowed from the West, which has
been transplanted almost intact here, and adapting it to what the
Indonesian public wants and needs.

"We have to look at the issue from four aspects, the concept
being one thing, the matter of management, our culture and human
resources," he said on Thursday.

He is quick to defend museum directors, who usually bear the
brunt of criticism about the sorry state of their institutions.

"We have to remember that before World War II, all museums
here were in private hands, either under foundations or palaces.
There are really old examples, from North Sumatra and Solo
(Surakarta). Today, there is no autonomy for them and they have
to answer to the government, be it central or regional.
Everything is too centralized, but that's the story of
Indonesia."

He notes that the country retains a culture where deference to
authority still reigns -- and the museum world should not be
expected to be any different.

"We talk about giving autonomy to museum directors or
curators, but if I'm the museum director, I'll keep on dictating
to others. That's a problem of us Malays. I'm not going to tell
my cook in the morning 'Make whatever for dinner' but I'll say
'cook this and that'.

"It's easy to criticize, but it's another thing to put our
plans into action. We're as much responsible for the state of
things."

He points out that it is inappropriate to blame the public for
a lack of interest in museums, a concept borrowed from the West
and imposed on them.

"If Indonesians go to a temple or traditional site, they know
how to act, to behave reverently. But a museum is something else
to them. Remember, the first museum here was founded by Burghers;
learned, devout Dutchmen who wanted to learn more about the
different parts of the islands."

He points out that museums include ethnographic sections,
which are today incongruous throwbacks to the days when the
Burghers wanted to pursue intellectual exploration of the peoples
in the archipelago.

Having an ethnographic section today, he muses, is tantamount
to the confusion of "us looking at us" instead of "us looking at
them".

The government requires schoolchildren to take field trips to
museums "which is a good idea if a bit fascistic. In Europe, they
(museum visits) are supposed to come freely".

There is also the paradoxical cultural clash of wealthy
Indonesians -- often at the forefront in advocating the
development of museums in the country -- and their, perhaps,
skewed view of what constitutes part of their history.

"Some of these people will take a look at a VOC chair in an
exhibition and admire it as a beautiful piece," Adjie said. "But
they'll say 'kasar sekali' (that's really crude) if they see a
piece of traditional Irian Jaya sculpture."

Adjie also acknowledges the lack of personnel skilled in
museum administration -- "there are perhaps 10 or so in Jakarta"
-- and, perhaps more importantly, those who know the ins and out
of marketing and promoting exhibitions.

"I can tell you of someone who went abroad to get a degree in
museum management and came back here full of ideas about what to
do to improve the museums. But now that person is crying every
day because it is so difficult to implement the plans."

Is the desire to have museum galleries packed with visitors a
sorry case of overreaching by affluent dilettantes, of striving
for ambitious goals in a bid to keep up with the cultural Jones'
of the West?

"It again comes back to the issue of whether our concept of
museums is right for Indonesia. We talk about the need for more
autonomy for museums when it still isn't true for the rest of
society. It's still a case of people in any organization having
to ask others for permission to go ahead with things."

He draws on his experience working with a foundation to
promote a theatrical company.

"The problem is that there is no professionalism in the
Western sense. I mean, I'm still searching for an Indonesian
equivalent of 'company', it doesn't translate. And everything is
done in the way it would be done back in Surabaya or whatever.

"Looking for someone to do a job? Well, we're more likely to
look for someone in our family or someone we know."

He notes the fundamental cultural dichotomy in appreciation of
historical objects.

"In the West, even in class divided society like England,
there is that appreciation for old objects in the general public.
Here it's not the same thing. If we don't have something, well we
can just make a copy. I think it's the same among Chinese and
also those Japanese who haven't been too influenced by the West.
People in the West wouldn't think of doing a copy or
reproduction. They would scream."

Among Indonesians themselves, Adjie says there are bound to be
differences in how they put objects in historical and cultural
order.

"To a Javanese, for instance, Borobudur is part of their old
historical past, but to a Batak, well, it's a reality of only 100
years ago."

It's a decidedly complex and frustrating picture: Are
Indonesian museums doomed to remain government-subsidized white
elephants, their collections languishing with nary a visitor?

Or, will some hotshot museum curator brimming with ideas come
in and create a stir, bringing in the crowds with a concept
borrowed from scenes from a local mall?

The answer, Adjie says, will probably fall somewhere in
between.

"What we have to do is find a third way between the so-called
traditional and the so-called modern of the West. We have to look
at whether Indonesians look at a beautiful chair because it is
beautifully made, or because it has historical value? Or both."

Adjie notes that the critics may be hoping for too much, too
soon.

"We have to remember that the massive exhibitions in the West
only really began 20 years ago with the 'King Tut' exhibition at
the Met (Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City). And that
took a lot of planning, a lot of money."