Thu, 04 Dec 1997

Sculptor Sidharta allows public to have a say in his art

By M. Chalik

BANDUNG (JP): When sculptor and painter Gregorious Sidharta Soegiyo was commissioned 30 years ago to make a Christ statue for a church in the small town of Klaten, Central Java, he came up with an image close to the Javanese community.

His was no traditional representation of a Caucasian man with well-trimmed beard and athletic body. It was a Jesus of medium build, serene-eyed and with the rough hands and big feet of a hard worker.

When the work was completed, the local priest hailed the new- look Christ. The statue was covered in cloth and placed in the church for an unveiling ceremony. The priest and Sidharta eagerly awaited the congregation's reception.

But the worshipers burst into laughter when it was unfurled.

"You know what the Javanese laugh means," Sidharta said. "It can mean everything. But in this case, it was not an expression of welcome. I knew that for sure."

He was right. The next day, members of the congregation demanded the statue be moved out of the church.

"They didn't want their Lord looking like the old man next door," Sidharta recalled.

The statue was unceremoniously evicted from the church.

The experience has served as a life-long lesson for the artist.

"Before I start my work, I have to ask people's opinion about it," he said.

His concern for dialog with others was evident in his works in a solo exhibition from Nov. 25 through Nov. 30 at the Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB).

In 1966, he was commissioned to make a statue of the Garuda Pancasila, the national symbol, at the House of Representatives. He envisioned a departure from the typical image, and discussed the idea with the building's architects and officials.

The result was a more "space-oriented" representation. The wings are not flat, but shaped in line with the structure of the surrounding space.

This was a revolutionary characterization of the hallowed symbol, but there were no objections.

In 1980, an order came to make a monument at the Tanjung Priok container port in North Jakarta.

The task was for a statue symbolizing the harbor, not shipping. He asked harbor workers about what form it should take.

"Why don't you make a huge ship over there?" a man said.

"Just make a statue of a sailor here," said another.

Ultimately, he opted for the final suggestion of an anchor.

Public art

During his ITB exhibition, a discussion was held on "public art", a subject becoming increasingly popular today.

Sidharta was unsure whether public appreciation of his works was a prerequisite to inclusion in the genre.

He believed an artwork placed in a public area would be of more value if the public had a role in its realization.

Speaker Yuswadi Yahya, the dean of art studies at ITB, said a common standard of reference on public art had yet to be reached.

"But the term started coming to the fore to replace the so- called monumental art, which is nothing more than the 'art of monument'," Yahya said.

Speakers agreed the latter had fallen out of favor.

"A monument ostensibly represents a major and established artistic trend in a period of time. And yet there is no such thing as established values in art."

Artistic norms change and evolve over time, he argued.

Likewise, an artwork does not always conform to artistic trends, but may represent an intellectual rebellion by an individual or groups.

Dialog between the artist and the community preceding creation of a work, as Sidharta has done, is worthwhile when it taps into the public's concerns.

"But if an artist asks the community view on his planned project in order to get public recognition, he is not doing an artwork," Yahya said.

"He is acting purely as a worker of a project, for money or other personal gain."

That public recognition of an artwork is fleeting -- what is celebrated today may be rejected tomorrow -- is something Sidharta knows only too well. His anchor monument has been moved to another spot, and the fate of many other works from his career is now unknown.