The art paradox
The art paradox
With an average annual per capita income in Indonesia of less
than US$ 1,000, it is little wonder that many Indonesians are
boggled by the Rp 5.5 billion (US$2 million) paid for The Deer
Hunt, a painting by 19th century Indonesian artist Raden Saleh,
at a Christie's auction in Singapore last week. "With that kind
of money, you could buy 170 brand-new taxis and provide jobs for
500 drivers," a Jakarta taxi driver was overheard remarking.
Others see it differently. Some people have commented that the
record price confirms that the Indonesian super rich have reached
the stage where they can afford to do whatever they want with
their money. Some time ago, for example, a daughter of a well-
known Indonesian tycoon bragged that she is one of a handful of
people worldwide who possess a Chopard watch. One of the diamond
encrusted watches puts the buyer back a mere Rp 5 billion. These
supra-elite, some observers have insisted, are proof that
national development is a success. In reality, they illustrate
how wide the gap between the "haves" and the "have nots" has
become.
One critic commented that the high price The Deer Hunt fetched
proves that Indonesian painting is experiencing a second boom.
The first boom began in 1991 after Indonesian paintings were
reintroduced to the world at an exhibition in America. The boom
is supported by the belief that collecting paintings is a sound
investment.
Some people argue that the purchase of The Deer Hunt for well
above its estimated value of US$ 600,000 to $900,000 by an
anonymous Indonesian collector is a nationalistic notion by a
person wanting to repatriate the nation's heritage.
Whatever the case, the astonishing price paid for Raden
Saleh's painting indicates how deeply Indonesians have been
duped, and perhaps lulled, by this so-called Indonesian painting
boom. In recent years the price of paintings here have soared to
unprecedented levels, bolstered by the lack of clear-cut price
standards on the market. Painting exhibitions seem to open,
particularly in Jakarta, almost every day. Many are officially
opened by cabinet ministers. New art galleries are springing up
in many Indonesian cities.
Meanwhile, other fine art forms are languishing or are being
marginalized. There is only one photography gallery in Indonesia.
Sculpture, tapestry and drawing exhibitions are very rare. Last
year, the first Indonesian drawing exhibition in 16 years was
organized in Jakarta.
Traditional art must brave an even graver future. Only
Balinese art and the Asmat sculptures of Irian, due to their
international reputations, continue to thrive. In the many other
Indonesian subcultures, however, local arts are dying or are
being trivialized by mass tourism.
Thus, a paradox prevails. Indonesians tend to overvalue and be
overattentive to painting, while ignoring and remaining ignorant
of the other fine arts. Being a nation that proudly points to its
artistic people, this paradox is even more ironic.
Unless Indonesians reorientate their outlook, and then act
accordingly, Indonesian art will deteriorate. Should the other
arts really fade into oblivion?