Tales from Wounded-Land: Eko Nugroho + Wedhar Riyadi

This exhibition features two of Indonesia’s leading younger artists, Eko Nugroho and Wedhar Riyadi. They are part of the “2000 Generation” that came to maturity during the period of violent upheaval and reform that occurred in the wake of the 1997 Asian financial crisis, the subsequent fall of the Suharto regime and the transition to democracy in Indonesia. Although Nugroho and Riyadi have exhibited widely, their works have so far been rarely seen in the United States. Tales from Wounded-Land marks their first New York gallery exhibition.

Both artists grew up in Java and reside in one of the island’s major art centers, Yogyakarta. Their works are grounded in both local traditions and global popular culture. Nugroho in particular has cited the influence of traditional batik and embroidery styles, as well as Javanese shadow puppetry. The influence of the latter can be seen in the strange, hybrid figures that appear in his works.

In contrast to the artists of the generation just before them, many of whom became deeply involved in the political activism of the student and youth movements of the late 1990s, Nugroho and Riyadi base their work in daily personal experiences rather than political activism. For that reason, their artworks always leave a space for satirical commentary or passing impressions of the origins of the socio-political issues they observe in daily life. In order to achieve this they employ the visual language they most favor and are most familiar with – that of drawings, comics, cartoons, and animation. Even so, this does not mean that their works lack a powerful socio-political dimension. Nugroho and Riyadi are firmly engaged with the culture of their time. With Tales from Wounded-Land, they make a pointed commentary about the current state of politics and society in contemporary Indonesia, a period in which the newly democratic country is going through great transformation.

For this exhibition, Nugroho presents a major new work, Human Religion, a series of three related canvases that address the role of religion in contemporary Indonesia, a topic much in the news in recent years. The central figure in Human Religion #2 is shown in a traditional shirt worn by Muslim men in Indonesia; he holds a diamond, symbolizing wealth, while tucked in his pocket is a pair of scissors, suggesting the half-hidden threat of violence. Embroidered plus and minus signs indicate the binary opposites of good and evil, right and wrong, that are essential components of religious dogma. In the flanking canvases, Human Religion #1 illustrates the dominance of animal passions in human nature, while Human Religion #3 shows a figure turning away from a mirror, which represents his incapacity to reflect on his own actions, and pointing accusingly towards others.

Nugroho makes further use of socio-political commentary in Fertile Land, the title of which originates from a Javanese phrase that can be translated as “a prosperous nation for people of all faiths.” In this work, he comments on the exploitation of natural resources and subtly calls into question the Indonesian prosperity dream. A final work from the artist is the latest installment in his Mono series of tapestries which challenge the rhetoric of national unity and cultural identity. With Mono Democracy, he suggests that despite the much celebrated political pluralism in Indonesia, governments still somehow continue to look only to their own interests. This work brings to mind the title of the exhibition itself, with its implication that, despite the rhetoric that Indonesia is a wonderland of harmony, in many ways it can be viewed as a “wounded land” whose scars from past traumas are still to be healed.

A vigorous critique of Indonesian society also marks the paintings that Riyadi exhibits in the exhibition. With these works, he creates strange, rather macabre fantasy worlds populated by figures that are at once playful and disturbing. Using comic book styles, he comments on the condition of contemporary youth culture and the contradictions between modernity and tradition in Indonesia.

With In Fashion We Trust, we can clearly see how Riyadi reacts to his own social environment: a younger generation that has become swallowed up in fashion and other trends. Sneakers, a cell phone, and other trendy items are shown against a background of the tropical foliage of Indonesia. A leering dragon from traditional mythology snaps a photograph of the scene. A related work, Under Attack, tells the story of how modernization has come with a cost: environmental degradation and cultural disconnect. A mischievous dragon pokes a girl in the eye as she kneels on a stump, surrounded by a devastated forest and dangling ears of corn, symbols of the temptations of consumption.

Finally, Riyadi presents an unusual series of drawings in colored pencil on black backgrounds. He transforms familiar comic characters, such as Bart Simpson, from symbols of irreverent youth into elderly figures that emerge from the gloom. With these new works, he continues to plumb the psychological depths of pop cultural imagery while showing off his mastery of line and color.

Both Nugroho and Riyadi take the absurd and banal elements of their daily existence and channel them in an intensely personal manner into their art. The works they exhibit in Tales from Wounded-Land reflect the crisis of life in Indonesia today, pointing out some of the problems facing the country while also indicating, through their imagination and active engagement, a cultural vibrancy that offers hope for the future.

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CATALOGUE ESSAY
BY ENIN SUPRIANTO

The works featured in the exhibition, Tales from Wounded-Land, at Tyler Rollins Fine Art are by two young Indonesian artists, Eko Nugroho and Wedhar Riyadi, both of whom live and work in the city of Yogyakarta.(1) Only three years apart in age, they are of the generation of Indonesian artists that emerged during the period of great upheaval in the late 1990s. When the economic crisis swept Asia in the middle of 1997, Indonesia was hit hard. The result proved fatal to the façade of socio-economic and political stability constructed by the longtime Indonesian president, Suharto, and his New Order regime. The ensuing economic and political chaos led to bloody confrontations that eventually brought Suharto’s reign to an end in May 1998. The Indonesian people had to pay a high price indeed for the democratic reforms they are now implementing. The dark impacts of the violence occurring during the 1997-2000 Reform Movement period are still felt today.

In 1997, Eko had just enrolled at the Indonesian Institute of Art in Yogyakarta. Wedhar entered the same school three years later. They are among the new generation of Indonesia artists known as the 2000 Generation. If we consider the careers of these two artists within the context of the socio-political situation prevailing in Indonesia in the period of a bit over a decade since 1997, it could be said that both of them developed during an era of violence. This fact alone illuminates several important aspects of their work.

Eko Nugroho once commented that: “Daily life in Indonesia is consistently colored by the issues of poverty, social injustice, corruption, violence and religion. Actually, I do not intentionally imbue my works with socio-political messages. However; it is all but impossible to free myself completely from the events happening around me.”

In contrast to the artists of the generation just before him, many of whom became integrally involved in the political activism of the student and youth movements of the late 1990s and blatantly included political messages in their artworks, Eko Nugroho does not base what he is doing as an artist in that type of political activism. He bases his work in his own personal daily experiences.(2) For that reason, the artworks of Eko Nugroho always leave a space for satirical commentary or passing impressions of the origins of the socio-political issues he observes at random within daily life. In order to achieve this he employs the visual language he most favors and is most familiar with: that of drawings, comics, cartoons and animation. Thus, in the process of expressing his observations of life and society, Eko frees himself from the limitations of selecting any one specific medium. He moves from one media to another with ease; from photocopied comics to wall murals, video animation, embroidery, doll making and even to experimentation with traditional wayang puppets, and other mediums of expression. As a result, there is very little pretention toward activism in the visual forms that his works take on. Even so, this does not mean that his works have little or no socio-political dimension.

These characteristics were clear in his first solo exhibition at Cemeti Art House in 2002. The figures he presented in his works were magical amalgamations of human forms, some of them self portraits as a robot, while other figures sported animal heads, or belching smokestacks where their heads should be, or weapons where they hands should be. They all appeared to be mutants who had somehow saved themselves through a process of evolution in these times of social unrest, political violence and environmental destruction. Eko Nugroho apparently sees the potential for violence hidden within every human being—in the service of whatever interests and for whatever reasons—in this era of chaos he is witnessing in Indonesia. “Hidden Violence” is how Eko defines it. (He used this phrase as the title for his most recent exhibition at Cemeti Art House in March 2009.)

For this show in New York, we can witness his message on this issue of hidden violence again. He displays three paintings on canvas in a triptych titled Agama Manusia (Human Religion), which featured three of his fantastic, magical figures. In these works, Eko clearly perceives the human head as being much more than just a part of the body, or as the medium for facial expression or identity; he looks into the thinking inherent in those heads. Therefore, even though the figures he depicts seem normal enough, the heads are always grotesque.

The matter of religion, which he touches on in this triptych, is specifically and characteristically Indonesian in nature. Even though Indonesia is not an Islamic theocracy, most of the Indonesian populace is Muslim, while the remainder of the people generally adheres to the Hindu, Buddhist, Protestant or Catholic faiths. It must be acknowledged that, up until now, the relations among the followers of the various religions in Indonesia have been perceived as harmonious. However, the fact remains that people tend to overlook the socio-political reality that religion is a highly sensitive and complex issue in Indonesia.

The semblance of harmony that exists today has actually been achieved through a consensus that is unhealthy for our fledgling democracy: our society has simply agreed to refrain from speaking openly about religious differences. For that reason, there is always the potential for tension, conflict, and even violent confrontation among and between the followers of the various religions in Indonesia. This can be seen clearly in the usually localized riots that erupt from time to time.

In this particular triptych work, Eko clearly set forth the premise that the conflicts do not arise from the religions themselves but from the interests of their followers.

The title of another of his works, Loh Jinawi (Fertile Land) #2, originates from a Javanese phrase usually roughly translated as: “a prosperous nation for people of all faiths.” Yet, what appears on Eko’s canvas is a skull helmet adorning the head of a robotic human figure. Apparently, Eko wishes to debunk the Indonesian prosperity dream—a slogan frequently heard from the lips of politicians—by saying that most Indonesians must face a life-and-death battle with each other just to make enough to barely survive.

Eko is also exhibiting one of his embroidery works titled Mono Democracy. In this work, he openly puts forward his challenge to Indonesian experience of democracy. In the last decade, within the framework of democracy, Indonesians —from all walk of life — suddenly seem to be eagerly want to engage with politics. There are so many political parties being established. For the latest general election, in early April 2009, Indonesians will have to choose their parliamentary representatives from 44 different political parties! But at the end, any one who wins and forms a government will apply the same old principle again: the government can do no wrong. According to Eko Nugroho, this very principle is called “mono democracy”. The People, as a counterpart that can create a “stereo” system, have somehow always been mistreated.

And there is a special note on his choice to use embroidery. The artist has observed that many gang youths use embroidery on their hats, jackets or pants as a way of visually identifying themselves. So he learned how to embroider, a technique that has become an important medium of expression in his artwork. Thus, embroidery becomes a bridge between Eko Nugroho’s characteristically modest, logo-like style of depiction of armed figures embroiled in physical conflict, and the street gangs who often end up in violent confrontation with one another.

It is this youth subculture that also links Eko Nugroho’s creative expression with that of Wedhar Riyadi.

Wedhar Riyadi, like Eko Nugroho, is frequently involved in the activities of the artists gathered in the independent community known as Daging Tumbuh, which has extensively influenced young artists of the 2000 generation in Yogyakarta. Among other things, Daging Tumbuh produces, photocopies and distributes underground comics called zines. If someone who gets a copy of the zine likes it well enough to share it with someone else, they simply photocopy the comic and pass it along. And anyone who wants to is free to contribute to the comic magazine’s content at anytime. Wedhar and his peers have been active in filling these comic zines, and even now this activity remains synonymous with the Daging Tumbuh independent art community. This group tends to take a great deal of interest not only in comics, but also in street sports and fashion, as well as contemporary film/video and pop music. Currently the Daging Tumbuh community has a shop that sells all kinds of merchandising products that they create themselves: comics, street fashions, stickers, toys, and other items.

Whereas Eko Nugroho’s works appear restrained and simple in terms of line, form and color, Wedhar’s creations are almost the opposite: they are highly detailed, produced with an impressive level of skill and concentration; line, form and color completely fill this artist’s works. Yet, the visual basis for both these artists is drawing; a method richly imbued with the power of line.

Wedhar’s skill at detailed drawing can be seen clearly in this exhibition, which features Wedhar’s characteristically expressive figures done in colored pencil on black paper: each one with an ugly, even grotesque, face that somehow exudes humor along with a sense of terror. Despite the modest qualities of his selected materials, Wedhar’s skill at drawing shines through; each and every mark of the pencils clearly displays his mastery at managing both color and depth.

Wedhar has certainly made a point to intensely observe and analyze the production of comics, cartoons, and other visual images of that sort; all of which have had a significant impact on his own works of art. The figures in Wedhar’s works have large round eyes like those of the visual novels called manga; and like the most contemporary of those novels, his canvases start with the visual images of one or two characters without any clear effort to set forth a specific, clear-cut narrative. Once his characters take up space on his canvases, he becomes so preoccupied with the visual elements that they displace the narrative almost entirely. The more this artist immerses himself in the world unfolding in his images, the wilder his imagination grows. So, by the time the work is finished, the surface of the canvas has been filled to overflowing with line, rhythm, figures and forms, as well as the elements of their created environment, so that the surface of the artwork seems like a flat plane in which the foreground and background merge and blend.

Both Wedhar’s paintings and drawings appear to be much more a result of his enthusiasm for playing with line than with any intention to convey a message; the content of his work is thus often hidden within the visual activity of the surface of his works. In other words, it could be said that each of his works immediately conveys to us its visual wholeness and completeness, while the narrative and all of the related images are scattered about in broken fragments no longer clearly connected to one another. When we enter into exploration of any of Wedhar’s works, we must be aware that we cannot depend on clarity, unity or wholeness within any suggested message or narrative, but rather must resort to our understanding of the jouissance we experience through the detailed chaos of the drawing and painting process itself. However, this does not mean that there is no story there, or that the narrative has been lost from the content.

With In Fashion We Trust, one of the three of the canvases that he is displaying in this exhibition, we can clearly see how Wedhar reacts to his own social environment: a younger generation that has become swallowed up in fashion and other trends. Even though the environment the artist places around his figures may seem jungle-like in its complexity, the figures, or characters, themselves always appear comfortable in their urban styles as they focus intently on their cellular telephones. In still another work, Under Attack, an adolescent girl appears to be weeping, while a dragon from some forest fantasy laughs at her, and even pokes out one of her eyes.

As is also the case with works by Eko Nugroho, we can clearly and easily observe elements of physical violence in the works of Wedhar Riyadi. However, this violence often emerges in a much more overt and commonplace way in the art of Wedhar. For example, the eye of the young girl being poked out, while another eye appears again and again all over the canvas. And that is not to mention other body parts, like those cut from a mutilated corpse, being scattered about among the other images.

Outside of these images, Wedhar also employs his characteristic black lines to develop specific facial expressions, in such a way that the resulting visages appear so wrinkled that it is difficult to imagine what emotion they are expressing; whether joy, anger, desperation or pain. It is as if everything has been mixed all together inextricably.

These works reflect the crisis of life in Indonesia today: there are so many violent elements informing the daily existence and experience of most people. Yes, the Indonesian people now exist within a democracy which promises freedom and prosperity while actually more frequently contributing to anarchy among the political elite; Indonesians are now finding ourselves facing the globalization of the economy and capitalism that floods us with promises and products that we could never afford, with no sign of true prosperity. In the midst of this chaotic environment, the press also jumps in, reproducing the structural violence we are experiencing as news; gossip and speculation become entertainment, and delusion and the mystic become hope.

The works of both of these artists are recordings and reflections of the above realities. These artists take the absurd and banal elements of their daily existence and channel it in an intensely personal manner into their art. This is their strategy toward ensuring sanity, a healthy way to live with hope in the midst of the absurdity of daily threats of violence: making sense of the nonsensical.


NOTES
(1) I have paraphrased a statement contained in artwork by Eko Nugroho displayed in his solo exhibition, In Wonderland (2007).

(2) The element of political activism was very strong in Indonesia up through the end of the 1990s. At the same time, a number of young artists were making an effort to remove themselves from such tendencies. They sought out a different language of expression, which was a distant as possible from that of socio-political messages. A number of these young artists came up with concepts and visual styles that tended strongly toward the formalistic and which were sterile of direct and provocative socio-political messages. The best examples of works of this sort were the pieces being produced by the artists of the Window Art Group (Kelompok Seni Rupa Jendela). Eko Nugroho and Wedhar Riyadi—who emerged after the Window (Jendela) generation succeeded in establishing their own style and influence in the contemporary Indonesian art scene at the beginning of the 2000s—have, in fact, been reintroducing figurative elements and socio-political issues into the contemporary Indonesian art of today. The difference is the absence of fanatical socio-political activism. This new generation points out that while being intensely aware that they are openly assimilating the influence of the pop culture and consumerism flooding their socio-cultural environment — along with the impact of the conflicts and maladjustments of the various elements of the new culture within the existing tradition — they are deliberately swallowing it all and then vomiting it back out as artworks of very specific and personal styles. Their expressions do not indicate an intense involvement, as is the case with activism, but rather, the establishing of a deliberate distance, reflective of a sense of alienation from these changes and an effort to overcome their impact through personalization.

— Enin Supriyanto is an independent curator based in Jakarta. —