Agung and I wasted no time after New Year’s to visit exhibitions—as we do. Before the year ended, we had been eyeing this exhibition held at Taman Ismail Marzuki called Dipl.-Ing. Arsitek, which displays works and stories from 8 prominent Indonesian architects who studied in Germany in the late 1950s to early 1960s. Architecture is an intriguing topic for both Agung and myself—one we love to admire from afar, but probably never actually dip our toes into, you know—so without a second thought, we decided to make our way to this little shindig.
This programme was held in commemoration of the 70th anniversary of diplomatic relations between the Federal Republic of Germany and the Republic of Indonesia. It aims to shed some light into the German-Indonesian knowledge transfer in the field of architecture—which has, thus far, received little attention, if any. Aside from an exhibition, the programme entails a couple discourses as well. Sadly, the programme is no longer available to visit as you’re reading this, but a book launch will hopefully follow soon. Until then, please satisfy your curiosity through this post—I hope it will suffice for now!
Agung and I wasted no time after New Year’s to visit exhibitions—as we do. Before the year ended, we had been eyeing this exhibition held at Taman Ismail Marzuki called Dipl.-Ing. Arsitek, which displays works and stories from 8 prominent Indonesian architects who studied in Germany in the late 1950s to early 1960s. Architecture is an intriguing topic for both Agung and myself—one we love to admire from afar, but probably never actually dip our toes into, you know—so without a second thought, we decided to make our way to this little shindig.
This programme was held in commemoration of the 70th anniversary of diplomatic relations between the Federal Republic of Germany and the Republic of Indonesia. It aims to shed some light into the German-Indonesian knowledge transfer in the field of architecture—which has, thus far, received little attention, if any. Aside from an exhibition, the programme entails a couple discourses as well. Sadly, the programme is no longer available to visit as you’re reading this, but a book launch will hopefully follow soon. Until then, please satisfy your curiosity through this post—I hope it will suffice for now!
Rise from the Ashes
The exhibition opened with images of post-war Germany, particularly Berlin, in its attempt to rebuild itself. Much of the cities’ skyline has been impacted by World War II, yet somehow the nation refused to stay down and decided to clean up the rubbles and rise from the ashes all over again.
While rebuilding plans were carried out simultaneously nationwide, Berlin received the spotlight as the country’s capital—and one that will undergo a distinct division both in its political direction, as well as architectural prowess.
Through old photographs, we got to see how Berlin used the impact of war to build itself from scratch all over again. However, the method to do this differed greatly, depending on which part of Berlin you were.
East Berlin (DDR) had a more efficient, community-driven constructions in mind, while West Berlin—along with the rest of West Germany (BRD)—gravitated more towards experimentation and erecting new ideas. Such works can be witnessed in the 1957 World Fair, in which structures by West Germany look heavily influenced by American architecture—resembling works by, say, Frank Lloyd Wright.
The exhibition opened with images of post-war Germany, particularly Berlin, in its attempt to rebuild itself. Much of the cities’ skyline has been impacted by World War II, yet somehow the nation refused to stay down and decided to clean up the rubbles and rise from the ashes all over again.
While rebuilding plans were carried out simultaneously nationwide, Berlin received the spotlight as the country’s capital—and one that will undergo a distinct division both in its political direction, as well as architectural prowess.
Through old photographs, we got to see how Berlin used the impact of war to build itself from scratch all over again. However, the method to do this differed greatly, depending on which part of Berlin you were.
East Berlin (DDR) had a more efficient, community-driven constructions in mind, while West Berlin—along with the rest of West Germany (BRD)—gravitated more towards experimentation and erecting new ideas. Such works can be witnessed in the 1957 World Fair, in which structures by West Germany look heavily influenced by American architecture—resembling works by, say, Frank Lloyd Wright.
Afterwards, we got to see the works of 8 prominent Indonesian architects who graduated from Technische Universität Berlin, Technische Hochschule Hannover and Rheinisch-Westfälische Technische Hochschule (Aachen)—namely Herianto Sulindro, Jan Beng Oei, Yusuf Mangunwijaya, Suwondo Bismo Sutedjo, Soejoedi Wirjoatmodjo, Mustafa Pamuntjak, Han Awal and Bianpoen. To ease us into the experience, we got to flip through each of their final projects (Diplomarbeit) for Uni, in the form of blueprints and technical drawings of buildings they proposed—some are to be built in Indonesia, while others are to be built in Germany. As we walked on, the space was divided into 7 little rooms—each showcasing the work of 1-2 architects mentioned above, with a complete timeline of events from their birth to their recent history in the middle of it all.
While a lot of their works are interesting, I feel like only a few selected buildings will stand out to the common crowd—not unlike Agung and myself. Unless you’re an architect or an architecture student who might find their sketches and processes useful as a learning material, a lot of the showcased pieces can feel a little overwhelming. Personally, as someone who knew none of the figures exhibited, I couldn’t make sense of most of the displayed items. I feel like a little more context or guidance could’ve been useful in helping us paint a picture of the showcased figures and navigate through the exhibition smoothly.
CP35 shirt (by Ou Creative) // thrifted pants // old sandals // Goethe Institut tote bag // TUKU scrunchy
photos by me & Agung
Afterwards, we got to see the works of 8 prominent Indonesian architects who graduated from Technische Universität Berlin, Technische Hochschule Hannover and Rheinisch-Westfälische Technische Hochschule (Aachen)—namely Herianto Sulindro, Jan Beng Oei, Yusuf Mangunwijaya, Suwondo Bismo Sutedjo, Soejoedi Wirjoatmodjo, Mustafa Pamuntjak, Han Awal and Bianpoen. To ease us into the experience, we got to flip through each of their final projects (Diplomarbeit) for Uni, in the form of blueprints and technical drawings of buildings they proposed—some are to be built in Indonesia, while others are to be built in Germany. As we walked on, the space was divided into 7 little rooms—each showcasing the work of 1-2 architects mentioned above, with a complete timeline of events from their birth to their recent history in the middle of it all.
While a lot of their works are interesting, I feel like only a few selected buildings will stand out to the common crowd—not unlike Agung and myself. Unless you’re an architect or an architecture student who might find their sketches and processes useful as a learning material, a lot of the showcased pieces can feel a little overwhelming. Personally, as someone who knew none of the figures exhibited, I couldn’t make sense of most of the displayed items. I feel like a little more context or guidance could’ve been useful in helping us paint a picture of the showcased figures and navigate through the exhibition smoothly.
CP35 shirt (by Ou Creative) // thrifted pants // old sandals // Goethe Institut tote bag // TUKU scrunchy
photos by me & Agung
Nobody Makes 'Em Like They Used to Anymore
What I love most is how, despite pursuing education abroad, most of these architects managed to bring back home what they learnt and apply their knowledge using local wisdoms and customs as well — bringing out the characteristics of the local culture. Out of 8 architects, only 2 ended up staying and working in Germany and 1 ended up more academically inclined. The rest either worked with the government or used their skills for the people.
One such example is this revitalisation of the houses by the bank of Code River in Yogyakarta. When the houses were threatened to be torn down and the people evicted, Y.B. Mangunwijaya and several others refused to let it happen. To stop it from happening, they give the houses a makeover, while adapting the motifs of the local culture. Not only did the houses end up looking refreshed, but the people also got to keep their homes.
One of the things that struck us as visitors was how elaborately designed and aesthetically pleasing the showcased buildings are. They belonged to a time when buildings were considered a work of art, not simply a functional structure that serve a monetary purpose. We felt like there are very few buildings today that will be perceived with as much prestige, awe and care—most structures built today seem to feel soulless and cold. Who would want to put them in museums anymore?
And to think that these architects pursued education in a nation that was half communist—in a time when the “form follows function” philosophy was all the rage too!—yet they still managed to give these buildings a heart. Well, it’s more than what I can say for most buildings today. It’s all about flare and flex these days, not about who will be using the buildings.
One of the things that struck us as visitors was how elaborately designed and aesthetically pleasing the showcased buildings are. They belonged to a time when buildings were considered a work of art, not simply a functional structure that serve a monetary purpose. We felt like there are very few buildings today that will be perceived with as much prestige, awe and care—most structures built today seem to feel soulless and cold. Who would want to put them in museums anymore?
And to think that these architects pursued education in a nation that was half communist—in a time when the “form follows function” philosophy was all the rage too!—yet they still managed to give these buildings a heart. Well, it’s more than what I can say for most buildings today. It’s all about flare and flex these days, not about who will be using the buildings.
What I love most is how, despite pursuing education abroad, most of these architects managed to bring back home what they learnt and apply their knowledge using local wisdoms and customs as well — bringing out the characteristics of the local culture. Out of 8 architects, only 2 ended up staying and working in Germany and 1 ended up more academically inclined. The rest either worked with the government or used their skills for the people.
One such example is this revitalisation of the houses by the bank of Code River in Yogyakarta. When the houses were threatened to be torn down and the people evicted, Y.B. Mangunwijaya and several others refused to let it happen. To stop it from happening, they give the houses a makeover, while adapting the motifs of the local culture. Not only did the houses end up looking refreshed, but the people also got to keep their homes.
For me, personally, this exhibition wasn’t only pleasant to look at but flew me back in time to when I was studying Art History in Kassel, Germany. Presenting artworks and why they matter used to be my everyday meal, so to speak. I would stand in front of the whole class and showcase a painting or a sculpture or a building, and going over its history, its material and its art style. Who made it? Why was it even created? What does it symbolise?
Moreover, a lot of the buildings reminded me of this one apartment complex I presented on site for a Bauhaus class once—just a few bus stops from my apartment. Did that really happen in my life?!!
It was really fun being able to slip into my art expert shoes again for a while. Talking Agung through the history of Bauhaus a little bit, discussing with him the architectural influence I believed each building had—that really brought me back and it was truly magical.
While I cannot understand architecture on a technical level, I still have a little bit of that fairy dust from Art History major left in me and can appreciate each structure for its beauty and historical significance, you know. Yes, a lot of the showcased buildings are intriguing, but none really stood out to me more than these two did—and to think that they both still stand to this day is mind-blowing!
For me, personally, this exhibition wasn’t only pleasant to look at but flew me back in time to when I was studying Art History in Kassel, Germany. Presenting artworks and why they matter used to be my everyday meal, so to speak. I would stand in front of the whole class and showcase a painting or a sculpture or a building, and going over its history, its material and its art style. Who made it? Why was it even created? What does it symbolise?
Moreover, a lot of the buildings reminded me of this one apartment complex I presented on site for a Bauhaus class once—just a few bus stops from my apartment. Did that really happen in my life?!!
It was really fun being able to slip into my art expert shoes again for a while. Talking Agung through the history of Bauhaus a little bit, discussing with him the architectural influence I believed each building had—that really brought me back and it was truly magical.
While I cannot understand architecture on a technical level, I still have a little bit of that fairy dust from Art History major left in me and can appreciate each structure for its beauty and historical significance, you know. Yes, a lot of the showcased buildings are intriguing, but none really stood out to me more than these two did—and to think that they both still stand to this day is mind-blowing!
As a born-and-raised Jakartan, I have passed by this building multiple times in my life, but I had never really looked at it until now. While it was built in the mid-1970s, the building seems, to me, to have borrowed elements from Frank Lloyd Wright‘s organic architecture—I can clearly see the resemblance to Fallingwater. Today this building is important to me, because my dear friend Uli works here.
Femina is Indonesia’s first female-focused magazine that was launched in 1972. Ten years later, the magazine moved to its own building located in the Kuningan area—where they stayed until the end of 2018. The building has since been sold to Halodoc, for which it still functions to this day. The building definitely borrows Bauhaus influence, although to me, it’s added with a chic mod silhouette.
As a born-and-raised Jakartan, I have passed by this building multiple times in my life, but I had never really looked at it until now. While it was built in the mid-1970s, the building seems, to me, to have borrowed elements from Frank Lloyd Wright‘s organic architecture—I can clearly see the resemblance to Fallingwater. Today this building is important to me, because my dear friend Uli works here.
Femina is Indonesia’s first female-focused magazine that was launched in 1972. Ten years later, the magazine moved to its own building located in the Kuningan area—where they stayed until the end of 2018. The building has since been sold to Halodoc, for which it still functions to this day. The building definitely borrows Bauhaus influence, although to me, it’s added with a chic mod silhouette.
The Good Ol’ Days
Since, I believe, the exhibition theme itself is pretty niche—like I’ve mentioned, you probably need a particular level of expertise or interest to understand all the materials displayed—this exhibition didn’t invite the general audience as much as the other exhibitions we’ve been to recently. The venue might consider this a failure, but I personally prefer it this way. It’s so nice to see that most people who came were so engrossed in the exhibited items—some even held deeper discussions than Agung and I managed to do!—that they didn’t particularly care for optics. Sure, there were still those who would have their pictures taken—including me, guilty as charged—but they were far and few between.
Seriously, we overheard a few groups talked to each other as if they were the guides—unless they were, although it didn’t seem like it. They seemed to really know what the hell was going on or who these people are. More importantly, they seemed to truly care about these things. It’s such a nice change of pace to be the dumb ones in an exhibition, for a change.
Have you started visiting exhibitions too?
What do you plan to see this year?
The Good Ol’ Days
Since, I believe, the exhibition theme itself is pretty niche—like I’ve mentioned, you probably need a particular level of expertise or interest to understand all the materials displayed—this exhibition didn’t invite the general audience as much as the other exhibitions we’ve been to recently. The venue might consider this a failure, but I personally prefer it this way. It’s so nice to see that most people who came were so engrossed in the exhibited items—some even held deeper discussions than Agung and I managed to do!—that they didn’t particularly care for optics. Sure, there were still those who would have their pictures taken—including me, guilty as charged—but they were far and few between.
Seriously, we overheard a few groups talked to each other as if they were the guides—unless they were, although it didn’t seem like it. They seemed to really know what the hell was going on or who these people are. More importantly, they seemed to truly care about these things. It’s such a nice change of pace to be the dumb ones in an exhibition, for a change.
Have you started visiting exhibitions too?
What do you plan to see this year?