Silent Tales Exhibition: Yogyakarta, Central Java

A car sits on a rail reminiscent of bygone sugarcane trains. But instead of sugarcane, it carries a pile of arms, hands, legs and feet. Following the rail as it turns and tailing the car from behind, two more cars appear, empty, leading toward an indefinite direction on an unchanging, endless journey that fades into a circular video projection. The landscape projected on the wall takes the perspective of someone emerging from a tunnel.

And then there it is, a mute crowd of more than 80 earthenware people, suspended from the ceiling and staring indefinitely at some point in the room.

They all have different faces and bodies, are of varying ages, their expressions ranging from serious to desperate. Most of the figures have missing limbs — a hand, a leg, even their heads.
These were the extremities left behind in the first rail car.

Kisah tanpa narasi (Tale without narration) is the title of Titarubi’s solo exhibition currently on display at Yogyakarta’s Cemeti Art House, and consists only of this one huge installation.

“I chose this title since tales about oppression and exploitation have lost any context of time or place. They repeat constantly and everywhere without being spoken. I have been actually laboring on the idea behind this work for almost two years,” said Titarubi, who presented another variation of the same theme at the 2005 Bali Biennale.

The 38-year-old artist, who is based in Yogyakarta, was basically looking for a symbol to express her concerns about the continuing economic instability and uncertain living conditions in Indonesia and other Third World countries.

As a consequence of colonization, then industrialization and finally globalization, the basic needs of grassroots people in these countries are often placed well behind business and political interests.

Focusing her thoughts on sembako — the Indonesian term for the nine basic staples like rice, salt, oil and flour — Titarubi found that sugar most readily fit her ideas. And a car carrying sugarcane immediately provokes an impression of colonial exploitation among many Indonesians.

The colonial Dutch forced the Javanese to build railways and factories under horrible conditions for their lucrative sugar industry, and also pressed the local farmers to cultivate sugarcane instead of the much needed rice, corn or cassava staple crops.

Later, the Indonesian government took over the practice to cultivate profitable plantations for export products like palm oil, rather than growing food for the local market.

The workers involved, exploited as much as they were, are not mere victims in Titarubi’s view.

“I am tired of always talking about victims. Everyone, even if they lost their hand, their foot, their house or their livelihood, must still stand up for themselves in a figurative sense,” said the mother of two.

Following last year’s earthquake that hit Yogyakarta and its surrounding areas, she and her husband, noted artist Agus Suwage, stopped almost all their activities for several months to help survivors in the disaster area. They turned their studio into a distribution post for food and medical aid, and later for building material as well as a center to provide construction workshops for affected villagers.

The principle behind their aid, however, was to support the villagers to the point where they could help themselves.

“The people in my installation have lost something, too. So of course they need to be supported. Seeing them hanging like this makes me feel afraid that they could fall at any moment and break — at least they are made of ceramic,” the artist said.

“But that does not mean they (survivors) should be dependent for all time. They have to find another way to live on an equal footing with other people. That’s why they all hang at the same height, shoulder to shoulder.”

Titarubi had initially produced these earthen figures as props for Garin Nugroho’s acclaimed film Opera Jawa. The sculptures, based on four different models, were made with the help of craftsmen in Kasongan village, which is known for their ceramics.

“Before, I had never dared to fire such a big piece of ceramic at once. I learned a lot from (the craftsmen). They really understand their work,” said Titarubi, who studied fine arts with a focus on ceramics in her hometown, at the Bandung Institute of Technology.

Opera Jawa had another significant impact on the artist, as during the shooting, the film crew frequently passed by old sugarcane trails.

“It was there that I got the inspiration to combine the ceramic people with rail cars,” the artist recounted.

Since it was not possible to get a used car from one of the active sugar factories in Central Java, Titarubi researched and studied the construction of the old sugarcane railways and rebuilt it herself.

To install the 800-kilogram cars at the gallery, the artist needed the help of about a dozen people.

At the exhibition opening, foreign visitors from France, Germany, the Netherlands and other European countries were reminded immediately by the cars of the death trains of the Third Reich, on which the Nazis transported Jews and other “non-Aryans” to their infamous concentration camps.

“I should make my excuses to anyone who feels troubled by this work — I never thought about it from that perspective,” Titarubi said.

“But these reactions only show me that the frame for my work is probably still too limited. Since everybody has a different historical and cultural background, it should be more open to any kind of interpretation.”

Kisah tanpa narasi (Tale without narration), a solo exhibition by Titarubi runs through June 3 at Cemeti Art House, Yogyakarta. Open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. from Tuesday to Thursday; closed Sundays and Mondays.

Cemeti Art House, Jl. D.I. Panjaitan 41
Yogyakarta 55143
Phone/Fax: (0274) 371015
cemetiah@indosat.net.id
www.cemetiarthouse.com

Article: Christina Schott