Performance artist Erawan mouths off about politicians

Performance 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 Brushing, 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.