Contemporary Artist Aditya Novali Highlights Aesthetics of Tools Used to Create Art

Aditya Novali’s “Painting Sense” exhibition in Jakarta. (JG Photos/Tunggul Wirajuda)

The brushes seemed to melt into the wall, seemingly striving to overcome its limitations. One brush followed the wall’s bends and contours, giving it a striking similarity to the melting clocks in Dali’s “The Persistence of Memory.” Other brushes melded into one another through their handles or brushes at different angles and into different shapes. The brushes are among the five pieces that make up the work “Canvas Logic,” an installation art by Indonesian contemporary artist Aditya Novali. But looks can be deceiving.

“Aditya might be out to shape shift the brushes. But [‘Canvas Logic’] is actually more about form and function, instead of going into the subconscious like Surrealism would,” says Edo, the assistant curator of Aditya’s work. “Despite their looks, the items still work.”

“Canvas Logic” is one of 23 works by Aditya that’s highlighted in his work “Painting Sense.” Held at Jakarta’s ROH Projects Gallery, the exhibits sought to highlight often overlooked elements of the artist’s tools and their end products.

“Aditya presents new works that engage with the concept of painting by experimenting with essential things in the painter’s practice. In deconstructing what it means to be a painter, [Aditya] raises issues of identity and emphasizes those parts of the of the [creative] process often left marginalized and unappreciated by the observer,” says “Canvas Logic” curator Junior Tirtadji in his summary of the 
exhibition. “Behind simple white canvases, brushes and other tools lies a complexity of ideas and responses.”

Edo agrees with Junior.

“Aditya wants to let viewers in on his creative process and even try to make them see the art through the perspective of the brushes and other tools. He sought to reach this aim by showing the versatility of brushes and other tools in the artist’s inventory, and their important role in his work,” Edo says. “By making them into various contorted shapes, he also sought to highlight the brushes’ ability to make shapes by shape shifting it. He also explored make various shapes by interlocking the brushes.”

Aditya further explored this latter premise with “Brush Series #9” and “Brush Series #10.” Made of brushes in a triangular and crescent cut, the works show the interchangeable, almost symbiotic relations between brushes, or the brush and canvas. On the other hand, the 36-year-old sought to show viewers a piece of his mind with “Brush Logic #2.”

Seeing this imposing, oversized work leaning against a wall, it didn’t take long to see that the brush has a looming place in his psyche. On the other hand, it also shows the total devotion, and even obsession, that an artist puts into his art.

‘Behind simple white canvases, brushes and other tools lies a complexity of ideas and responses’. “Tools Alphabet — Pencil Series #1-3” (JG Photo/Tunggul Wirajuda)

Made into crosses, octagons, circles, letters and other shapes, Aditya showed in his works “Tools Alphabet — Pencil Series #1-3” and “Tools Alphabet — Paint Roller Series #1-8” that the tools not only create precision on canvas and other mediums; they can also be made artworks in their own right by turning them into three-dimensional shapes.

While the brushes in “Painting Sense” reflect Aditya’s ability to break new ground by highlighting the aesthetics of utilitarian items, they still ring true to his long-held precepts.

“[Aditya’s] works are often playful, as they have a way of combining designs in his artworks. He combines not only an exploration of paintings in his technique but also the functionality of the works,” his website adityanovali.com notes.

“Thinking as a trained designer — due to his educational background [as a Parahyangan University architecture major] — his approach to his works create a realm of playfulness, sociopolitical criticism as well as an invitation to engage the audience.”

Many of the works in “Painting Sense” share this trait along with his previous works such as “Unscale Reality” and “The End Is The Beginning,” his critique of the consumerism and materialism of urban life, or “Identifying Indonesia: The Chaos, The Process, The Contemporary,” his epic interpretation of the archipelago’s shaping in natural and sociopolitical terms. However, his canvases “Paintless Painting #1”and “Paintless Painting #2” took on a more introverted tone.

“[‘Paintless Painting #1’ and ‘Paintless Painting #2’] saw Aditya experiment with various items. These include canvas, silicone, rubber and even Betadine antibiotic salve,” Edo says. “The works are Aditya’s way to show how a painting appears in his head or subconscious, which is a far cry from the symmetry and patterns that we are accustomed to see. Its tempting to see them as similar to Rorschach tests, but they are more spontaneous and have none of the patterns that define Rorschach’s.”

The effect was striking. The broad yellowish swathes of Betadine in “Paintless Painting #1” created an effect similar to those of British Romantic J.M.W. Turner. But while the early 19th century master focused his paintings on the effect of light on nature, a trait that made him the forerunner of the Impressionist movement, Aditya seems to turn this premise inward, making him illuminate his creative process to the audience.

On the other hand, his triptych “Perfect Painting” aptly alludes to its blank state of the canvas.

Originally published in The Jakarta Globe on August 11, 2014

Click here to read the original article

 

 

A Glimpse Into the Larger Than Life World of Heri Dono

“Comedy of Indonesia’s Court Mafia’ and other works reflect Indonesian artist Heri Dono’s views of Indonesia’s troubled social and political landscapes. (JG Photo/Tunggul Wirajuda)

Jakarta. The rows of winged creatures looked out impassively at passersby, much like the ancient statues of the Assyrian lamassu deity that inspired them.

Though they are much smaller in scale than their 1,000-year-old counterparts, the structures’ imposing demeanor capture viewers’ attention with their sheer power of intimidation, an element enhanced by LED lights, electronic, mechanical devices, as well as sound.

Titled “Riding the Tigeresh Goat,” the five fiberglass sculptures by Indonesian artist Heri Dono silently allude to the 32-year period of military rule under late strongman Suharto or concerns of a military comeback under losing presidential candidate Prabowo Subianto. A pair of AK47 assault rifles on each statue — to give the impression that the winged creatures are poised to mow down the opposition — emphasize the point.

This heavy shadow cast by military rule is also emphasized in one of his latest work, “The Palace Guards.” Featuring three men in military uniform, the pieces perhaps address certain conservative elements’ determination to hold on to power. The statues seem hell bent on retaining control, even as their grip on the situation looks to be slipping, as symbolized by the wheels they sport instead of legs — as if the soldier-like figures are attached to wheelchairs.

“Riding the Tigeresh Goat” is one of 84 sculptures, installation art, as well as paintings and drawings that make up “The World And I: Heri Dono’s Art Odyssey.” Currently being shown at Jakarta’s Art1 Gallery, the exhibition is a retrospective of Heri’s art from 1984 to 2014.

“[The exhibition] is Heri’s effort to reveal his artistic journey from the early days of his career until today. By reading his works and his multifaceted creative process, the exhibition tries to reveal perceptions of contemporary art that continues to grow since the 1990’s until today” says curator Jim Supangkat in the exhibition’s catalogue. “Heri is one of a few Indonesian artists with extensive experience in international exhibitions. Over the years, Heri has accumulated experience in interacting with diverse cultural phenomena and forms — an experience that impacts his future [artistic] development.”

“Flying Angels”. (JG Photo/Tunggul Wirajuda)

Heri reflects this premise best with his work “The Spiritual Guards” and “Flying Angels.” While the former resembles “Riding the Tigeresh Goat” in its imposing stance, the lamassu-like figures have little of the forceful connotations that mark the wheeled sculptures. Instead, the black-and-gold installation made out of fiberglass and wood looks more like Heri’s fanciful take on palace lions that stand guard over Chinese temples.

The structure also looks like the Buraq, a mythical being mentioned in the Koran that took the Prophet Muhammad on his journey to heaven.

On the other hand, “Flying Angels” highlighted a more ascetic, spiritual side to Heri’s art. At first glance, the composite fiberglass, fabric, bamboo and electronic installation art hovers both literally and figuratively over viewers like their spiritual counterparts are believed to do. But a touch of a button triggers the flapping of their wings, bringing the sculptures spectacularly to life.

“Heri’s work leaves viewers with an awareness to understand the diversity of world cultures, as well as the ability to enrich our human dimensions,” Jim adds.

“They also live up to Heri’s premise that [artistic] collisions [in styles] will lead to an opportunity to understand something new.”

“The Golden S**t” sculpture similarly takes on this premise, but is markedly different because of its satirical bent. The golden feces left by dogs might be a reference to the golden egg laid by geese.

However, the foul way in which the dogs’ “gold” is created perhaps reflects the no-holds-barred approach taken by many people to gain wealth, such as corruption, embezzlement, and other unscrupulous financial practices.

His paintings, including his 2008 piece “Komedi Mafia Peradilan Indonesia” (“Comedy of the Indonesian Court Mafia”) and “The Indonesian Gift,” exude a similar theme. The works feature a style of painting that mark the medium in Javanese tradition. However, their critique of Indonesian life is palpable in the grotesque figures they bear.

The twisted subjects in “Komedi Mafia Peradilan” — an apt visual representation of disgraced public figures such as former Constitutional Court judge Akil Mochtar — are shown celebrating excessively with the their ill-begotten power. In the “Indonesian Gift,” Heri depicts the inside of a volcano as it is on the verge of erupting to reflect the shady back-room deals that have lead to political unrest in Indonesia.

But the proverbial icing on the cake for “The World And I” is Heri’s monumental “The Odyssey of Heridonology.” The 10-paneled triptych mural traces the 54-year-old’s artistic development and vision and how it allowed him to excel in events such as the Taipei Biennale and the Asia Pacific Triennale.

Heri says the work is guided by his premise of finding inspiration within himself, even if it means neglecting the more tangible, main themes of his art.

The sheer size of the installation dwarves visitors, reflecting the breadth of his artistic feats and vision.

Originally published in The Jakarta Globe on August 8, 2014

Click here to read the original article

Finding and Questioning Beauty in Everyday Things

Nearly 200 installation pieces by up-and-coming Indonesian artists are on show at the ‘Manifesto No. 4’ exhibition. (JG Photo/Tunggul Wirajuda)

The sprawling quilt blankets the wall, filling the horizon as far as the eye can see. Taken individually, the bright colors like yellow and orange, as well as shades ranging from checked to floral patterns are beautiful enough in a mundane sort of way. But taken as a whole, the quilt is overwhelming, dwarfing passersby who see it.

Titled “ Selimut ” or “Blanket,” the installation art piece by Valasara epitomizes late pop artist Andy Warhol’s notion that “everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it.” Valasara’s work and Warhol’s adage defines “Manifesto No. 4, Keseharian: Mencandra Tanda Tanda Masa” (“Manifesto No. 4 on Daily Life: Finding the Signs of the Times”).

Featuring nearly 200 works by young Indonesian artists and collectives like Recycle Experience, Sutra Djarot and M. Zico Albaiquni, the art represents the latest in contemporary Indonesian art.

“[‘Manifesto No. 4, Keseharian’] seeks to convey that the inherent complexity of Indonesian culture doesn’t just lie in the nation’s cultural diversity. It’s also shaped by global trends that influence Indonesian culture and society,” Education and Culture Minister Mohammad Nuh says of the biennial event, which started in 2008. “The exhibit isn’t just an effort to develop contemporary art, it’s also a way to recognize cultural differences. However, it also considers the potentially damaging effects of the industrialization or commercialization of arts and crafts.”

Recycle Experience’s piece “Hirup Aing Kieu-Kieu Wae!!” echoes Nuh’s words. Featuring a brass robot in a souped-up garbage cart, the installation piece seems a cross between C3P0, the Star Wars protocol droid, and the brass diving suits commonly found in the Jalan Surabaya antiques market. While the crank at the rear of the figure lends it a somewhat farcical touch, its impersonal features and assertive pose, which make it seem bent on stepping out from the cart, is an apt metaphor for the enroachment of the outside world in the form of technology.

On the other hand, Sutra Djarot’s 2012 work “Not So Poor Little Rich Girl” is a sharp commentary on pop culture and the use of technology to disseminate gossip. Drawn in a style that evokes teen movies or magazines, the painting says much about pop culture and the central place it takes in some people’s lives.

His painting “Hey Joe,” whose title is probably taken from the Jimi Hendrix classic, takes a slightly different tack. Made in a style highlighting the slim, streamlined movie posters of the 1940s and ’50s, Sutra highlights an element of anxiety or apprehension with the woman. Doubt is also apparent in the woman’s split image and her gaze on opposing sides. Sutra’s use of Chinese ink, coffee and thread on canvas in the paintings gives them a vintage look. The shades from the materials give his works a sense of depth and perspective that skilfully conveys the dilemmas of his subjects or many Indonesians, who might have one foot in the past and one foot in the future.

The work is among those that fit the criteria for the curators of “Manifesto No. 4, Keseharian.”

“The young artists in ‘Manifesto No. 4’ stand out because they know the patterns of contemporary sociocultural communications [like social media, the Internet or smartphones] that are different from those of previous generations,” reads a statement from the curators, among them Rizki A. Zaelani, Jim Supangkat and Asikin Hasan. “The artists have to do more than just observe today’s issues; they have to to show the constant changes in idioms or expressions.”

Another eye-catching feature of the exhibition is Theresia Agustina Sitompul’s variable-dimension work “Mangan.” At first glance, the installation piece of stainless steel hoops and netting seem less a work of art and more like an optical illusion. But a look at either end of the structure tells all that one needs to know about Theresia’s message. The interconnected jar of coins and the set of goblets show the close connection between money and possession, and the public’s preoccupation with accumulating both.

But not all the artists go down this path, among them M. Zico Albaiquni. Instead of addressing trends and tastes, Albaiquni’s work “Artist Studio” takes on the creative process itself. Featuring scaffolding, neon lights and a number of paintings in progress, the installation piece figuratively lets viewers into the artist’s mind. The work also turns the notion of the self-portrait on its head, as Albaiquni seems to portray the artist through his work instead of his image.

“Manifesto No. 4,” which runs through Saturday, is a colorful kaleidoscope presenting the artistic vision of Indonesia’s up-and-coming artists — and therefore an exhibition that is certainly worth a visit.

Originally published in The Jakarta Globe on June 4, 2014

Click here to read the original article

Artists Are Putting A New Twist On Some Old Things

“Hello” by Bagus Pandega, and “Hit It” by Stolen Wood (Photo courtesy of Tunggul Wirajuda)

The set of old-fashioned chairs around the small round table, which seemed to be transplanted from a 19th century cottage, epitomized controlled chaos. Suspended in midair, the chairs seemed to defy gravity as well as time and space. Titled “Hit It,” the installation piece by the German artistic duo of Kai Linke and Leslie “Lee” Hildebrandt — or Stolen Wood — fits the bill for its emphasis on adding a new twist to old things.

“Hit It” is part of “New Olds: Design Between Tradition and Innovation,” an exhibition of 60 works at Jakarta’s Art One Gallery featuring the works of designers from Germany and other European countries, as well as Indonesia and the United States. Held by the Goethe-Institut and Institut fur Auslandsbeziehungen or IFA, the exhibit set out to turn notions of designs around its head. “[New Olds: Design Between Tradition and Innovation] set out to explore the relationship between tradition and innovation in contemporary design,” the exhibition’s catalogue announced. “The variety of the many approaches are bundled around the theme’s material, construction, configuration, production, and traditional use.”

The exhibition’s curator, professor Volker Albus, reiterated the statement.

“The exhibition sought to see which old elements can be used to make contemporary designs. The question is, what [old designs] can we take and how can we take it, and how can we transform them into new, contemporary and local items,” he said. “We also encourage local artists to look [for inspiration] at their culture instead of foreign, particularly Western models.”

One Indonesian artist, Bagus Pandega, got the message through his work “Hello.” At first glance, the Bandung Institute of Technology Fine Arts alumnus seemed to pay homage to the turntable. But as his choice of materials indicates, there is much more than meets the eye. “Hello” uses acrylic for the turntable instead of vinyl, as the former has a more futuristic look. The turntable itself is a running text playing the Beatles classic song “Hello Goodbye,” as in “hello to the new, goodbye to the old,” Bagus said.

Fellow Indonesian artist Patricia Untario also touched on the same issue with her work “Rangka”or “Frame.”

“I found this Art Nouveau lamp at the Astana Anyar flea market in Bandung. When I found it, the lamp was so rusty and dirty it didn’t take long to realize that there’s a history behind it,” she said. “When one thinks of chandeliers, they think ornate lamps, so people have no idea I got the lamp in a rundown condition once they see its restored state. I guess ‘Rangka’ is a good metaphor for the wonders that we tend to overlook in daily life, until we stop to take a closer look at it.”

On the other hand, Dila and Otong’s piece “The Javanese Queen” pays tribute to their cultural heritage.

“Javanese traditions are very robust. We are also rooted in Java and it is difficult to separate us from her,” they said of the bust, whose refined wayang features are counterpointed by the ornate, carnival like decoration. “If we had to describe Java as a queen, we would see her mysterious side and the elegance of traditions in the place where we grew up.”

Other collections in the exhibition, such as Studio Nils and Sven’s “1000 Chairs,” also approach the theme with a knack for the unexpected and a quirky eye. Designed by Niels Kerkkamp and Sven Lamme from five strips of plywood measuring five centimeters, the chair seemed more geared for decoration. But the chair was surprisingly ergonomic, as it featured good weight distribution and balance.

Others, such as Soner Ozenc’s “El Sajjadah” and Wendy Plomp’s “Message in a Box” series touched on the place of faith, in this sense Islam, in the modern world. The stark white, computerized design of a prayer mat seem to touch on religion’s relevance in the modern world, making it contemporary yet timeless. But Plomp’s “Message in a Box” is no less poignant. Made of cardboard with the decorations typical of a prayer rug, the work’s sparse, no-nonsense simplicity seems to take faith to its simplest, most elemental characters.

Albus’ own work “Pixelperser” also has the same take. The carpet drew attention to the similarities between the pixels of modern computers and the  intricate weaving process of Persian carpets, proving that the newest innovations have much in common with age old, hand made items than was previously thought.

“Moose, Roeder, Deer” by Big Game

Other works, like Big Game’s “Moose, Roeder, Deer” updated the age-old tradition of hanging hunting trophy heads on the wall for their wooden substitutes. Made with more ecological concerns in mind as well as an aversion to taking life, the work gave the tradition a new lease on life by its distinct aesthetic. Nina Kappenstein did the same with porcelain on her “dTales” pieces. Superficially resembling 18th-century scenes of pastoral life portrayed by Meissen porcelain from Germany, Kappenstein subtly slipped in symbols of consumer products such as McDonald’s and Coca Cola as well as planes flying overhead, to show how the world has changed since.

Originally published in The Jakarta Globe on December 4, 2013

Click here to read the original article

Capturing A Subconscious Reality Through Film

Art After Drama (Photo courtesy of Tunggul Wirajuda)

Since its invention in the late 19th century, the moving image has captivated audiences.

But the medium’s reliance on recorded images is also its primary limitation, as it often portrays fleeting external visions that are easily manipulated into a distortion of reality, according to Indonesian artist and director Krishna Murti .

This limitation is something the artist hopes to transcend and expose in “Art After Drama,” an exhibition showing at South Jakarta’s Galeri Salihara until Sunday.

“I try to show films that project the inner world of the mind. That is why many of the pieces here have a strong subconscious element,” said Krishna, who incorporates theater, film, dance and literature in his work.

“The gradual, looping formats of the video installation also explore how one’s imagination is gradually fostered. It provides a contrast between the Eastern concept of time, which is like a wheel, with the linear Western concept of time, with its chronological use of past, present and future.”

The work that best embodies Krishna’s complex expression is video installation “Eggology.”

The 12-minute looping piece, which was based on ultrasonography images of a baby in its mother’s womb, was performed by Polish theater artist Ewelina Eve Smereczynska.

Smereczynska’s flowing, fluid motions in an oval space evoke the gestures and movements of a fetus in a mother’s womb.

“ ‘Eggology’ reminds us of the need to take care of our [emotional and physical] wellbeing even before we are born. For instance, some mothers in the West do so by playing soothing classical music to their fetuses, while many Muslim mothers recite surahs , or prayers from the Koran,” Krishna said.

“Most of all, ‘Eggology’ reminds one that life begins before we come into this world. So in that sense it can represent one of many phases in life.”

“Eggology” by Krishna Murti (Photo courtesy of Tunggul Wirajuda)

Another video installation in the exhibition, “The Tale of Sangupati,” touches on Krishna’s Javanese heritage.

The monodrama, a collaboration with fellow artist Landung Simatupang, recounts the efforts of protagonist Joyo (played by Landung) to uphold the heritage of his dalang , or wayang puppeteer, ancestors.

In the piece, which features a monologue depicting Joyo’s efforts to hold on to a fading tradition, Krishna uses many symbolic details to make his point. These include wafts of cigarette smoke to show how his wayang heritage is becoming an increasingly distant memory, as well as CGI images of wayang figures forming and eventually shattering at the end of his monodrama.

“Joko is in a dilemma. On one hand, his father made him swear to maintain his family’s traditions. But on the other hand, he was forced to sell the wayang he makes, and even his own family heirlooms, to make ends meet,” Krishna explained.

“So his hardship isn’t just merely holding on to dying traditions. Metaphorically it also represents the rest of us, as we’re forced to ‘sell our souls’ just to make it in life.”

Krishna’s “Dance of the Unknown” installation presents the cycle of life as seen through TV and the Internet.

The mix of dance and video presented by Gita Kinanthi seeks to stretch the limits of reality, both literally and figuratively. It literally makes viewers strain their necks and eyes, but also conveys how film has the ability to sway public opinion and understanding.

“Usually we don’t have time to grasp the truths of what we see, because it has already been ‘provided’ for us,” Krishna explained.

Originally published in The Jakarta Globe on July 31, 2013

Click here to read the original article