Watercolor poems from a senior painter's wisdom
Watercolor poems from a senior painter's wisdom
By Sean Cole
JAKARTA (JP): Once again, Santi Fine Arts Gallery on Jl. Benda
in Kemang has proven to be a haven for "undiscovered" masters.
From now until April 30, one may view the poetic works of Tjeng
Tjiam Hwie, a veteran painter of 73 years who is finally
launching his own exhibit.
Tjeng astounds the heart and senses with his expansive,
visionary depiction of Southeast Asian landscapes.
The serenity and sheer wisdom that emanate from his works will
keep one circling the showroom, unable to take in enough of his
intoxicating and profound "pictorial poems."
One will surely wonder at Tjeng's ability to so completely
render, not just the size, shape and proportion of nature, but
what nature inspires within us.
Tjeng holds true to both the artistic traditions of his
homeland and those of his adopted country. Born in China in 1921,
he later emigrated to Indonesia, with his brother, when he was
18. He then made his home in Malang but also traveled extensively
around the archipelago.
Thus the unending quest for perfection of the Chinese master
painters and poets, as well as the lush, swirling organic and
animistic quality of traditional Balinese art can be found in
these works.
Yet there is also the distinctive individualistic and
liberated style that bubbles up like a fountain from the
traditional foundation of all of these works.
Optimistic
Every moment of Tjeng's 73 years resonates in every stroke of
his brush.
Each painting shows that Tjeng is a serene and optimistic man,
meeting everything with a quiet and patient smile, occasionally
amused and forever able to appreciate, and be fulfilled by, the
beauty and wonder of nature.
Other than himself, Tjeng's only teacher was the master Lim
Kwie Bing, whom he studied under for 20 years.
While staying true to his own vision, he has also attempted to
emulate Lim as well as being greatly influenced by Li Man Fong,
his friend and colleague of many years whom he showed with last
year.
After years of joint exhibits in Indonesia, Taiwan and China,
Tjeng has finally been given his own platform on which to
"perform" his poetic renderings: scenes of Malang, Bali and other
Indonesian landscapes and wonders.
The title of the exhibit, Puisi Cat Air (Watercolor Poems), is
indicative of the theme revolving around all of Tjeng's
paintings.
A tribute to the land and its benefit towards humans, this is
what he wishes to relate to his viewers.
Like the masters of the Haiku or the scribes of ancient
Chinese fables, Tjeng is able to achieve complexity within
simplicity: to tell a grove, or a clouded sky, as opposed to
simply delivering its rough figure.
Holy scripture
This idea also finds its way into many of the paintings'
titles. In Puisi Tanah Lot we find the intricate (one would think
intentional) curve of a Balinese shore.
The curling of waves resemble lines from some holy scripture,
pleasing in their swooping and mingling with the rocks and the
sand and each other.
The shore creates a path for the minute trail of villagers all
bearing baskets, passing umbrellas as they venture up to the
temples beyond.
The sky above sparks colors of the sunset (that is, both the
actual, literal sunset and the colors of the sunset's momentary
invocation of pause and awe within us).
Finally, nearly the entire canvas is flecked with what appear
to be sunspots, giving one the sensation of a sincere promise,
the organic and fantastic dream quality of the land.
These marks do not seem like accidents but seem to have
created themselves -- as though they appeared of their own
accord.
Puisi Tanah Lot, as well as many of his other works, contain
another of Tjeng's concerns. For he is not solely interested in
innocent nature alone, standing without visitors.
Many of the works also depict the inhabitants of these natural
glories: their labor in the groves, their journey up the hill or
in boats towards the shore.
Small people
Yet there are few paintings in which these people are shown
any larger than the smallest branch of one of his monumental
groupings of trees.
It would seem as though Tjeng subscribes to the Taoist belief
that man is simply a passenger in nature's inevitable current, as
opposed to the modern, Western conception that nature serves man.
Thus, the human characters in Tjeng's works are always seen
under the paternal trees, working the nets on the shore, a small
creature in the storm.
In a way, these figures often resemble the birds who are
always in flight from Tjeng's trees: delicate and swinging gulls
with black-tipped wings.
In Pulang I a boy pulls on the reigns of an ox, trying to
convince the beast to follow him home. Above them hangs the ever
present tree.
Tjeng's trees are stunning in their brilliance of alternately
bright and subtle colors -- autumnal, yellow and orange flares
that speak hundreds of volumes within a single image.
Pulang I is particularly gripping in that it thoroughly
reminds one of an ancient Chinese fable.
The tree consumes more that half of the canvas and, at the
bottom, the boy in his red sarong and the stubborn ox are set
against an area of stark whiteness -- as though in a dream.
In Nuansa di Kaki Gunung we may see a culmination of Tjeng's
themes and ideas. Here, we are met with a magnanimous scene of
rolling hills, governing mountains, a fog revolving around the
peaks and, ironically, a field of wheat shafts in the foreground.
Masterful wisdom
In this piece, even the trees take on a subservient role as
the mountains loom and keep watch over the rows and rows of
burrowed fields.
Deep within the crevasses of these orange, purple, red and
yellow shades -- all blending and giving as the sun in the
background sets -- can be found the minuscule workers, bent over,
diligently tending to the fields.
This is truly a work that moves beyond its discipline and into
heights of masterful wisdom and knowledge of the world.
There are also times when Tjeng seeks to find new techniques
of expressing his ideas and emotions.
Sometimes this may take the form of radical changes in pitch,
tone and mood.
Kuda Lumping is no longer thin washes and fragile, Chinese,
paper lantern delicacy. With this work, Tjeng finds a new
technique.
Here, there are men on fantastic white horses, woven in and
over each other, bearing swords and teeth in raging combat.
The splashes of trailed flecks of paint all over the scene
heightens the degree of fierceness and piercing activity.
This is certainly in contrast to all of the other works in the
exhibit, but as Tjeng said (or, rather, as his nephew related for
him), "Though he is...very old, he still hopes that he can
improve, still grow, and maybe he can find different styles, you
never know..."
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