Rusli gets to the bare essentials in his works

By Amir Sidharta

JAKARTA (JP): The ceremonial bade -- the vehicle in which the corpse is transported to the funeral ground in the ngaben Balinese Hindu cremation ceremony -- stands majestically above the crowd in Rusli's 1969 work Ngaben.

The dignity of the bade is portrayed using simple yet swift monochromatic washes of oil, while the exuberance of the procession is depicted with dots of various colors embellishing the lower part of the painting.

The structure of the bade's bridge, depicted using broad monochromatic washes, appears to be fading into the background, distancing itself from the main subject matter. The simple painting is magical -- one can almost sense the beat of the drums and the music of the gamelan, the procession moving in your direction and the solemn, transcendental atmosphere of the ceremony in this work.

In his paintings, some of which are on show at the exhibition Haiku dalam Warna dan Garis at Galeri Lontar, Rusli, now 85, strips his subjects to the bare essence of their matter, into simple bands, strokes or even dots of color.

Tempo journalist Bambang Bujono likens his works to haiku poems executed in lines and color. Some of Rusli's works primarily consist of linear elements, as can be seen in his Pelabuhan Semarang (Semarang Harbor) series (1970). In Perahu- perahu (Boats) 3 (1970), the shape of the boats is delineated using broad, bold, red lines. Other than a few black blotches and yellow dots and curves, only a number of broad red lines appear in Pelabuhan Semarang 5, yet what the lines actually delineate or represent remain unclear.

Often times, the waters or the sea are represented by broad bands of color, as can be seen in Perahu (Boat) 3 and Tiga Kapal di Tengah Laut (Three Boats in the Middle of the Sea). "What I paint is actually not the object, not its physical entity, but rather its spirit," claims Rusli. The ordered, horizontal bands of color certainly represent the calmness of the waters by the harbor. The painter's works are his search for the essence in art.

The works of Rusli and the painter, Affandi, show similarities.

Although differing in style and technique, their works consist of minimal lines, often leaving much of the white of the canvas uncovered with paint. Keeping this in mind, it is no surprise that both Affandi and Rusli studied in India. In fact they both attended Santiniketan, although Rusli was there about two years before Affandi.

Rusli first learned about Santiniketan when he was in fifth grade of high school. He had read a story in a magazine about Rabindranath Tagore's visit to the Dutch East Indies. The article included a write-up about Santiniketan.

The article mentioned that Santiniketan was a university without classrooms. Classes were held under trees. That intrigued him.

He left for India, but ended in a medical school in Calcutta, along with some other friends who chose to study there. It soon became apparent that medicine was not for him. He left after two months.

From Calcutta he went to Santiniketan, where painters and artists were free to explore their interests. Those who wanted to paint could paint -- if they were not in the mood, there was no need to. That suited him.

"When I was young, I had wanted to become a pastor because I thought it would be fun and easy," Rusli told Yogyakarta-based Tempo journalist R. Fadjri.

"They are free and useful to society. I also once wanted to become a seaman because I could then freely roam the world and go anywhere I wanted. At another time I wanted to become a journalist because I could freely write. All those dreams remain unfulfilled. Instead, I became a painter."

Yet, during his years at Santiniketan (1932-1936), the artist not only studied art, but also sculpture, architecture, English literature, philosophy and even Katakali, an classical Indian dance. The university had a liberal approach to education where students had to actively search for knowledge. The art classes were taught by first-rate artists in India. Yet, the instructors never told their students what to paint. Instead, they let the students paint what they wanted.

"They never taught painting techniques, and there were no figure drawing classes. Yet, the effect of their presence was important. They provided an atmosphere that inspired us to advance," he recalled.

Once his instructor criticized his painting for lacking nuance. It was a painting of a girl in the rain. The instructor said it was quite good visually, but the viewer could not feel the nuance of rain in the work. He told Rusli to play in the rain for a few days. Only after that experience was the young artist able to actually feel the nuance of rain and portray it in his work.

He also realized that in art (including painting), what is important is not the physical appearance, but the soul.

"So, everything has to be felt. Hence, when I want to paint, I would sit and observe leafs, boats, and the barong for a long period of time. What I paint is actually not the object, not its physical appearance, but its soul," the artist claims.

While his harbor depictions seem calm, the festive spirit of Balinese culture can be felt in Rusli's portrayal of the ceremonies and rituals on the island in works dating from 1967 to 1973. His paintings of Bali also show that he is not concerned about portraying the physical appearance of his subject matter, but rather its nuance, its soul or its essence.

At Santiniketan, perhaps for the first time, Rusli felt free to do what he wanted. There he understood what it meant to be a painter. He learned that artists painted in search of the soul, the essence of what they tried to depict. And Rusli discovered freedom in his search for the essence of life.

The exhibition is being held at Galeri Lontar, Jl. Utan Kayu 68H, East Jakarta (tel: 8573388) until May 19.