How fitting that at the last place I visited we talked about how to modernise history while still preserving details of the past, and in this post Agung and I stopped by a place that got me thinking about the whole topic in the first place. Welcome to the new face of Taman Ismail Marzuki! In case you didn’t know, this place—which we’ll call TIM, for short—is the centre for arts in Jakarta. It officially opened in 1968 and has since served its purpose as a centre for theatre and performance arts, Jakarta Arts Council HQ and Jakarta Arts Institute campus. In October 2019, a plan to revitalise the area was put in place—in other words, giving it an entire makeover—and it is finally open for public earlier this year. That’s when the controversy started.
The other weekend Agung and I visited two parallel exhibitions that are currently being held at TIM’s galleries. Initially, we planned only to visit Cipta! Kapita Selekta Cikini Raya 73, but it so happens that there is another exhibition held in the gallery just next door to it called Transcendence—and they’re both free! So, of course, we decided to visit both of them while we were there. This is the story of that.
Pulled from the Archives
How fitting that at the last place I visited we talked about how to modernise history while still preserving details of the past, and in this post Agung and I stopped by a place that got me thinking about the whole topic in the first place. Welcome to the new face of Taman Ismail Marzuki! In case you didn’t know, this place—which we’ll call TIM, for short—is the centre for arts in Jakarta. It officially opened in 1968 and has since served its purpose as a centre for theatre and performance arts, Jakarta Arts Council HQ and Jakarta Arts Institute campus. In October 2019, a plan to revitalise the area was put in place—in other words, giving it an entire makeover—and it is finally open for public earlier this year. That’s when the controversy started.
The other weekend Agung and I visited two parallel exhibitions that are currently being held at TIM’s galleries. Initially, we planned only to visit Cipta! Kapita Selekta Cikini Raya 73, but it so happens that there is another exhibition held in the gallery just next door to it called Transcendence—and they’re both free! So, of course, we decided to visit both of them while we were there. This is the story of that.
Pulled from the Archives
Cipta! Kapita Selekta Cikini Raya 73 is an exhibition held by the Jakarta Arts Council. It showcases their collection of materials from previous events held at TIM since its opening in 1968. There are event posters—a lot of which were still made by hand and/or using screen printing methods—, numerous recordings from past talks, archived paintings, video documentations, previous publications and former installation props.
Through the posters, I learnt of the many interesting exhibitions from back in the day. Some of the ones that piqued my interest the most include Pameran Kaki Lima and Pameran Keramik Humor—I mean, can you imagine what each event entails? Aside from that, I love the many, many exposition of local artists.
This exhibition also reveals the nuance that we can actually find within the artistic field of Indonesia. I think most of us are familiar with the still-life, landscape and realistic paintings of traditional culture—most commonly of Bali. However, as it turns out, artists of Indonesia have dabbled in more modern genres for decades. Here we saw several abstract, impressionist and expressionist—borderline sublime—paintings.
The way these paintings are displayed brought me back to Louvre. It makes me feel transported to a European gallery and/or museum, which shows its amazing class and execution. I suppose it’s not uncommon in Jakarta, but it is with historical pieces.
Cipta! Kapita Selekta Cikini Raya 73 is an exhibition held by the Jakarta Arts Council. It showcases their collection of materials from previous events held at TIM since its opening in 1968. There are event posters—a lot of which were still made by hand and/or using screen printing methods—, numerous recordings from past talks, archived paintings, video documentations, previous publications and former installation props.
Through the posters, I learnt of the many interesting exhibitions from back in the day. Some of the ones that piqued my interest the most include Pameran Kaki Lima and Pameran Keramik Humor—I mean, can you imagine what each event entails? Aside from that, I love the many, many exposition of local artists.
This exhibition also reveals the nuance that we can actually find within the artistic field of Indonesia. I think most of us are familiar with the still-life, landscape and realistic paintings of traditional culture—most commonly of Bali. However, as it turns out, artists of Indonesia have dabbled in more modern genres for decades. Here we saw several abstract, impressionist and expressionist—borderline sublime—paintings.
The way these paintings are displayed brought me back to Louvre. It makes me feel transported to a European gallery and/or museum, which shows its amazing class and execution. I suppose it’s not uncommon in Jakarta, but it is with historical pieces.
Aside from the downright visual, there are also the audio and the editorial. The previous comes in the form of audio documentation of previous talks and lectures held in TIM. They tend to be very interesting, as they deal with the numerous facets of the artistic industry within the nation—sometimes also in comparison to what is going on abroad. Some of the speakers being recorded include Ali Sadikin, the former governor of DKI Jakarta; Abdurrahman Wahid, the former President of Indonesia; and Hardi, one of the most significant Indonesian artists of modern times. Not gonna lie, I didn’t really listen to any of the audio tapes—they’re really long and you only get to listen at random, so I ended up just catching little bits and pieces—but it’s interesting to know the topics that have been discussed within the arts industry even back then.
Then there’s the editorial. There were around 20 publications being displayed during the exhibition. Most of them come in more than one exemplar, which made me wonder whether or not I was allowed to bring one home—Agung prevented me from even trying (lol). These publications are meant to be a company piece to previous exhibitions or events held by Jakarta Arts Council. Agung and I both have our own favourite picks from the pack—mine is Sayembara Cerita Anak, Agung’s is called Sontoloyo. I realise some context is probably needed; unfortunately, I just don’t have it.
Old hat + jumper // thrifted shirt + pants // Goethe Institute tote bag // Dr. Martens boots // photos of me by Agung
Aside from the downright visual, there are also the audio and the editorial. The previous comes in the form of audio documentation of previous talks and lectures held in TIM. They tend to be very interesting, as they deal with the numerous facets of the artistic industry within the nation—sometimes also in comparison to what is going on abroad. Some of the speakers being recorded include Ali Sadikin, the former governor of DKI Jakarta; Abdurrahman Wahid, the former President of Indonesia; and Hardi, one of the most significant Indonesian artists of modern times. Not gonna lie, I didn’t really listen to any of the audio tapes—they’re really long and you only get to listen at random, so I ended up just catching little bits and pieces—but it’s interesting to know the topics that have been discussed within the arts industry even back then.
Then there’s the editorial. There were around 20 publications being displayed during the exhibition. Most of them come in more than one exemplar, which made me wonder whether or not I was allowed to bring one home—Agung prevented me from even trying (lol). These publications are meant to be a company piece to previous exhibitions or events held by Jakarta Arts Council. Agung and I both have our own favourite picks from the pack—mine is Sayembara Cerita Anak, Agung’s is called Sontoloyo. I realise some context is probably needed; unfortunately, I just don’t have it.
Old hat + jumper // thrifted shirt + pants // Goethe Institute tote bag // Dr. Martens boots // photos of me by Agung
A Take on Behavioural Science
Before we move on to the next exhibition, let me talk about the phenomenon of the visitors yet again. I’ve mentioned before the general attitude of people who visit art exhibitions. Well, it’s really not all too different this time. Most of the people who stopped by here seemed to be so concerned with having their photos taken with the artwork that they hardly notice the piece itself. You cannot take in an artwork and trying to learn what it is about without people lining up behind you or blocking your view for a good shot.
For the most part, their behaviour didn’t bother us. I believe they are conscious that what they’re doing is not supposed to be the main purpose of this event, so none of them became hostile or impolite to snap their photos. Personally, we also don’t hesitate to walk in on someone’s photo op to look at the next piece of art, because we believe that is the main point of an exhibition. We also wouldn’t ask people to move out of their way for us to snap some shots, so we find it’s all fair game.
Before we move on to the next exhibition, let me talk about the phenomenon of the visitors yet again. I’ve mentioned before the general attitude of people who visit art exhibitions. Well, it’s really not all too different this time. Most of the people who stopped by here seemed to be so concerned with having their photos taken with the artwork that they hardly notice the piece itself. You cannot take in an artwork and trying to learn what it is about without people lining up behind you or blocking your view for a good shot.
For the most part, their behaviour didn’t bother us. I believe they are conscious that what they’re doing is not supposed to be the main purpose of this event, so none of them became hostile or impolite to snap their photos. Personally, we also don’t hesitate to walk in on someone’s photo op to look at the next piece of art, because we believe that is the main point of an exhibition. We also wouldn’t ask people to move out of their way for us to snap some shots, so we find it’s all fair game.
But then a conversation between me and Agung got me thinking: could we blame them for behaving that way? Is it better for these spaces to be devoid of people, except for those who truly appreciate the art? Or is it better to be overflowing with visitors who don’t give a damn? And is it actually classist to restrict the event only for those with an artistic soul? I wonder what the organisers of the events would think. Agung and I personally came to the conclusion that, so long as these people do not damage the pieces—in their pursuit for an instagrammable frame—, it shouldn’t be a problem. They may not have come to appreciate the arts, but they might stay to learn about it.
This thought process is also triggered by recent events among the popculture: Citayam Fashion Week. In case you don’t know, Citayam Fashion Week is not a fashion event at all. It all started when teenagers from Citayam, a small town in West Java, flocked to hang out by the Dukuh Atas BNI MRT station in Jakarta. This garnered a lot of criticism from netizens, since they believe that the presence of these so-called country bumpkins in an elite part of the capital is—for lack of better phrase—an eye sore. That opens up a whole discussion of classism and exclusivity that makes me think of my own distaste for these people who go to exhibitions, despite having zero interest in art. Perhaps it’s somewhat different—the disinterested crowd come from a diverse set of classes, even the upper 1%—but still, it got me thinking.
But then a conversation between me and Agung got me thinking: could we blame them for behaving that way? Is it better for these spaces to be devoid of people, except for those who truly appreciate the art? Or is it better to be overflowing with visitors who don’t give a damn? And is it actually classist to restrict the event only for those with an artistic soul? I wonder what the organisers of the events would think. Agung and I personally came to the conclusion that, so long as these people do not damage the pieces—in their pursuit for an instagrammable frame—, it shouldn’t be a problem. They may not have come to appreciate the arts, but they might stay to learn about it.
This thought process is also triggered by recent events among the popculture: Citayam Fashion Week. In case you don’t know, Citayam Fashion Week is not a fashion event at all. It all started when teenagers from Citayam, a small town in West Java, flocked to hang out by the Dukuh Atas BNI MRT station in Jakarta. This garnered a lot of criticism from netizens, since they believe that the presence of these so-called country bumpkins in an elite part of the capital is—for lack of better phrase—an eye sore. That opens up a whole discussion of classism and exclusivity that makes me think of my own distaste for these people who go to exhibitions, despite having zero interest in art. Perhaps it’s somewhat different—the disinterested crowd come from a diverse set of classes, even the upper 1%—but still, it got me thinking.
A Limbo of Inspiration
Onto the second exhibition: this one is called Transendence and held by mahavisual, a local creative studio and artist management. It’s a small exhibition consisting of only one spacious room painted in a gorgeous Instagram colour—no, really, it was painted in the colour of the Instagram logo—with several quotes splayed out on all three walls. The quotes, I believe are from previous events held at TIM. They all pretty much give voice to the artists of Indonesia and the significance of art in driving the nation forward.
My favourite quote—if you can guess it—is actually the one spoken by S. Sudjojono, which you can see down below. It feels very powerful and I wholeheartedly agree with it as well. Painting has become an essential thing in Indonesia, as I’ve mentioned above, which is crazy considering how uncommon it was during the colonial era. Back then, traditional arts are mostly dominated by performance arts since it is more rooted in community. In fact, Raden Saleh used to be the only renowned painter—but look at us now!
Onto the second exhibition: this one is called Transendence and held by mahavisual, a local creative studio and artist management. It’s a small exhibition consisting of only one spacious room painted in a gorgeous Instagram colour—no, really, it was painted in the colour of the Instagram logo—with several quotes splayed out on all three walls. The quotes, I believe are from previous events held at TIM. They all pretty much give voice to the artists of Indonesia and the significance of art in driving the nation forward.
My favourite quote—if you can guess it—is actually the one spoken by S. Sudjojono, which you can see down below. It feels very powerful and I wholeheartedly agree with it as well. Painting has become an essential thing in Indonesia, as I’ve mentioned above, which is crazy considering how uncommon it was during the colonial era. Back then, traditional arts are mostly dominated by performance arts since it is more rooted in community. In fact, Raden Saleh used to be the only renowned painter—but look at us now!
In contrast to the previous exhibition, this one is actually meant to be the Instagram backdrop of all the visitors. It was indeed free of charge, but we were asked to follow mahavisual’s Instagram account before we were permitted to enter the area. They also asked us to tag them when we post about this exhibition. Fair enough! Although the exhibition is technically only held in one room, there are little balconies installed on the side to allow people to snap shots from a more interesting angle. But, really, there is literally not much else to do except to take photos in this space.
I suppose exhibitions like this can be the bridge between the snobbish, more artistic exhibits that true art enthusiasts—like myself—would prefer and the durable, gram-worthy backdrops the social media addicts seek. It is both aesthetically pleasing—the colours are truly magnificent—and dripping (quite literally) with historical value. They even provided little stands to put your phones on, so you may take self-timed photos with friends or whoever you came with. What surprised me most was how the light bounced of the walls and reflected the psychedelic colour, creating a filter effect on our photos I didn’t quite expect. Gorgeous!
What kind of exhibition visitor are you? Are you bothered by the other party?
In contrast to the previous exhibition, this one is actually meant to be the Instagram backdrop of all the visitors. It was indeed free of charge, but we were asked to follow mahavisual’s Instagram account before we were permitted to enter the area. They also asked us to tag them when we post about this exhibition. Fair enough! Although the exhibition is technically only held in one room, there are little balconies installed on the side to allow people to snap shots from a more interesting angle. But, really, there is literally not much else to do except to take photos in this space.
I suppose exhibitions like this can be the bridge between the snobbish, more artistic exhibits that true art enthusiasts—like myself—would prefer and the durable, gram-worthy backdrops the social media addicts seek. It is both aesthetically pleasing—the colours are truly magnificent—and dripping (quite literally) with historical value. They even provided little stands to put your phones on, so you may take self-timed photos with friends or whoever you came with. What surprised me most was how the light bounced of the walls and reflected the psychedelic colour, creating a filter effect on our photos I didn’t quite expect. Gorgeous!
What kind of exhibition visitor are you? Are you bothered by the other party?