Ark Galerie Puts the Focus Back on Art

Contemporary art tends to shine brightest when shown in a clean setting that puts the art at center stage. Jason Gunawan, the owner of Ark Galerie in South Jakarta, knows this and has made a point of stressing the ambience and look of the showplace in the gallery’s recent revamp.

Jason decided to renovate the gallery after a brainstorming session with co-owner Ronalk Akili.

The goal was to reduce the boundaries of the gallery to provide a more open space where the art would better be able to make an impression on visitors.

So last year, Ark Galerie – on Senopati Raya in Kabayoran Baru –  underwent a two-month renovation to shake things up and to keep pace with evolving trends in the modern art scene.

“We just needed a renovation,” Jason said. “We’re in retail so, from time to time, we have to make changes.”

The gallery’s facade also got a new look. Now the front of the building features hundreds of vintage window frames in teal, chocolate cream and burgundy, joined together to create a charming vintage effect.

Framed by a stand of sidewalk trees and local businesses on each side, the gallery’s new exterior certainly has the power to attract the attention of curious passers-by. “We experimented with old windows as a partition for the facade,” said Jason.

“There’s not a particular design direction, it’s just a result of our creative ideas.” He said there would have been no way to get every window frame to fit perfectly without a little bit of tinkering.

“We had to customize each frame, a bit like customizing a puzzle, in order to fit them all together,” he said.

Walking into the space, you enter an area enclosed by the puzzle walls of the colored frames and lit by a stained-glass lamp.

There is a smattering of mismatched deck furniture to lounge on while enjoying a cup of coffee from the adjoining cafe, or while you discuss your opinions on the latest exhibit with a friend.

Handmade Mexican terracotta tiles marry this sitting area to the inner exhibition space. Inside, the whitewashed walls shrink back to allow whatever art is on display take center stage.

A large antechamber leads to a set of stairs that take wanderers up to a living room-like setting with lowered ceilings and a homely, relaxed feel.

It’s a versatile space, with alcoves for standout pieces worthy of a bit of private pondering.

Even better, the new use of space also allows the gallery to comfortably show more than one artist at a time.

Gallery manager Putri Adju said they tried to create new space by dividing the gallery at a horizontal level, rather than by creating walls to serve as barriers.

“We tried to limit boundaries in the gallery by sectioning the space on different height levels as opposed to creating walls,” she said.

Housed within the same building — accessible through its own entrance or down a flight of stairs from within the gallery itself — is Bakoel Koffie, a cafe serving Western-style food and good, strong coffee.

You can look up into the gallery space from cutout windows in the cabin-like cafe, providing an ever-changing view while enjoying your meal.

The quiet interior offers an inspiring place to sit and tap away on your laptop, meet friends or business partners or just while away the afternoon.

Before the gallery renovation, the coffee shop was located upstairs in the main show area, which didn’t allow enough space for the cafe’s patrons.

She said the advantage of moving Bakoel Koffie downstairs is that now there is enough space for cafe visitors to stretch out and relax.

It also means the gallery space upstairs is much more open and airy. “We are glad to have the proper space for them [Bakoel Koffie] and for their guests as well.

Our relationship with the cafe attracts guests for them and for us,” Putri said. “We wanted to allocate a larger space for the gallery and a more intimate area for the coffee shop,” she said.

The result is an art space that can do justice to any type of work it shows, while offering a relaxed sitting area where guests can recline and ponder all the possibilities of art.

http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/arts/ark-galerie-puts-the-focus-back-on-art/402794

Is it the End of the Reel for the Jakarta International Film Festival?

For 11 years the annual Jakarta International Film Festival, or JiFFest, has played an important role in rekindling Indonesia’s interest in quality cinema. The event’s discussions and workshops have also provided a platform for young Indonesian filmmakers to explore new horizons and meet big names in the industry.

So the industry was dismayed last week when organizers said that this year’s event, scheduled to run from Nov. 27 to Dec. 3, may have to be canceled because of a funding crisis. Organizers have been forced to launch a public appeal for donations to keep it afloat.

“We don’t have enough money,” JiFFest manager Nauval Yazid said. “If by October 31 we cannot raise enough to hold the festival, we deeply regret we may have to cancel it indefinitely.”

Festival founder Shanty Harmayn said they needed at least $200,000 to run the weeklong festival and had so far raised just half that amount.

JiFFest was launched in 1999 and has over the years gained a reputation for quality and creativity. It has been praised for waking the country’s film industry from a deep slumber.

When JiFFest debuted in Jakarta, Asian countries such as Singapore and South Korea already had international-scale film festivals.

The Singapore International Film Festival was already 12 years old and the Busan International Film Festival in South Korea was in its third year. Thailand and the Philippines started their festivals around the same time as Indonesia. The Bangkok International Film Festival was first held in September 1998 and Manila’s Cinemanila International Film Festival was launched in July 1999.

Unlike music and sports events, it is difficult to obtain sponsorship for film, art or cultural events from big corporations such as tobacco companies. With limited financial support from the government, and the withdrawal of backing from a major international sponsor two years ago, JiFFest organizers have been struggling to keep the festival afloat.

“It’s hard keeping the festival going every year,” Shanty said. “We started out as a very small-scale event and grew. Up until last year, JiFFest had screened almost 1,500 films from more than 40 countries.”

To highlight the financial problems JiFFest is facing, Shanty detailed the funding the festival received.

“About 60 percent of the budget has come from foreign funding, 20 percent from sponsorships, 10 percent from local government and the rest from ticket sales,” she said.

Referring to the Busan International Film Festival, where 60 percent of the funding is covered by the government, Shanty said that ideally the government should cover most of the expenses of running such an event.

She said the amount required to run the JiFFest was small compared with the $3 million to $4 million it cost to run the Busan festival.

For many, JiFFest is more than just a series of films for audiences to watch. For Indonesian filmmakers, it is an opportunity to connect with their local and foreign counterparts. Over the years, numerous big names in the international film industry have attended and presented workshops.

War photographer and documentary maker James Nachtwey, renowned Korean director ‎​Kim Jong-seok, influential Iranian filmmaker in Iran Jafar Panahi and Malaysian film director and producer Amir Muhammad are just some of the people who have shared their thoughts and enthusiasm at the festival.

Besides film screenings, the festival runs a series of discussions and workshops for aspiring scriptwriters and directors.

Lucky Kuswandi is an emerging film director whose feature film debut, “Madame X,” is showing in cinemas. He is scheduled to lead a script-writing workshop at this year’s festival.

“When I first arrived in Jakarta after I finished school in the US, I knew nobody in the film industry,” Lucky said. Through JiFFest he has met some of Indonesia’s biggest names in the industry, such as Nia Dinata, Mira Lesmana and Joko Anwar.

“It’s sad if they really have to cancel the festival,” Lucky said. He hoped the government would come up with the cash because the festival not only promoted the Indonesian film industry but also Jakarta as a cultural hub.

“Ticket prices for JiFFest are a lot cheaper than they are for similar festivals in foreign countries,” he said. This meant that the cost of bringing the films to Indonesia could not be recouped from ticket sales.

The ticket price for a JiFFest film screening is about the same one would pay at the cinema, and some of the films are even shown for free. Shanty said they kept ticket prices low so all movie buffs could afford to enjoy the films.

Despite promised support from the Jakarta administration, the festival organizers still have to pay an entertainment tax on each ticket sold.

“Even for free screenings we have to pay the tax. We have to allocate Rp 500 for each ticket to pay for the tax,” Nauval said. “With our struggle every year to keep this festival going, we’ve realized it’s not easy trying to do a good deed for the city.”

Nauval said there were many ways a cultural festival could boost a city’s economy and development.

“Take the Sundance Film Festival,” he said. “The festival, initially named the Utah Film Festival, brought improvements for local residents such as new roads and infrastructure.” South Korea’s Busan wasn’t internationally known before its film festival. Thanks to the annual event in the small port city, resorts were built and more tourists started flocking to the area.

Nauval said Berlin was a different story. Taxpayers footed the bill and the festival organizer was therefore obliged to account for how the money was spent.

“I don’t know the exact figures that are involved, but it’s apparent that the city fully supports the festival and that the public enthusiastically participates in it,” he said.

Nauval said he hoped the public would heed the call for donations, with people realizing the importance of their participation in improving Jakarta’s image. “It’s a good education for all us,” he said. “When you make a donation, it doesn’t always mean you see the benefits right away. It’s a long-term investment to reap a long-term reward.

“When you contribute you won’t get free tickets to the festival but you will be contributing to the city.”

Nauval quoted Sundance founder Robert Redford, who said: “Storytellers broaden our minds: engage, provoke, inspire and ultimately connect us.”

“It is time for us to see if Jakarta will give storytellers a chance,” Nauval said.

“Keeping the festival is our long-term investment for the city. The donations are for a good cause.”

http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/arts/is-it-the-end-of-the-reel-for-the-jakarta-international-film-festival/401784

Solo’s Operatic Soul

The city of Solo in Central Java, Indonesia, was once known as a center of culture, religion and royalty. More recently, however, it has been associated with something much more menacing.

“I was sad and angry that people started labeling Solo a ‘haven for radicals,’” said Atilah Soeryadjaya , referring to an article in Singapore’s Straits Times newspaper last month. The article detailed the killing of terrorist Noordin M Top on the city’s outskirts.

A true-blue Solo native, Atilah is the granddaughter of Sultan Mangkunegara VII, a direct descendent of the Mataram dynasty’s royal line, which ruled Java between the 17th and 18th centuries.


“I thought, we’d better show the world all that we have to offer so people will once again recognize Solo as a proud city of culture,” she said.

With the help of some friends, Atilah decided to direct and choreograph an elaborate Javanese dance opera that is scheduled to go on a world tour starting in Singapore this month.

As material, she used the epic of Raden Mas Said, his wife, Rubiyah, and their struggle against the Dutch colonialists in the 18th century.

The opera, “Matah Ati ” (“To Serve the Heart”), tells the story of the warrior lovers — itself a source of pride for Indonesians — while incorporating almost every form of cultural heritage that the artisans of Solo and Central Java have become famous for.

Atilah first became aware of Raden Mas and Rubiyah from listening to her grandfather ’s stories when she was young. “The story tells of a time when women were recognized for their courage and power,” she said. “They were not merely the wives and followers of men.”

According to the story, Rubiyah, a commoner from a village in Wonogiri, Central Java, led 40 female soldiers disguised as farmers against the Dutch. They were able to freely enter Solo without arousing suspicion and their siege took the Dutch Army by surprise.

On the other side of the city walls, Raden Mas simultaneously led his troops in an attack. He killed so many soldiers that he earned the nickname Pangeran Samber Nyowo, which literally means Soul-Reaping Prince.

After winning the battle, the prince ruled in the city of Solo and became the first Sultan Mangkunegara, taking Rubiyah, his loyal commander and lover, as his wife. Eventually, he gave her the title Raden Ayu Kusuma Matah Ati — Princess Ayu Kusuma Matah Ati .

“It’s a love story, but it also tells the strong, proud history of our nation,” Atilah said.

Her research on the warrior lovers took her to the library of Mangkunegara Palace. She also had the opportunity to consult with historian and batik master Iwan Tirta, just before he passed away.

Iwan was a key member of the original research team that helped establish the prince as a national icon in 1988. Not only was he able to give Atilah valuable insight into the royal couple’s struggles, but he also helped her design historically accurate costumes for the performance. “He told me, ‘Rubiyah was a farmer,’” Atilah said.

Instead of creating elaborate royal attire, Iwan advised Atilah to dress the cast in lurik, a type of striped woven cloth traditionally worn by villagers. In addition, 60 vintage batik pieces from Iwan’s private collection will be worn by cast members during the opera.

To choreograph the opera, Atilah enlisted three senior dance instructors from the Indonesian Arts Institute in Solo: Nuryanto, Daryono and Eko Supendi.

Their idea of mixing traditional dances that were once performed at Mangkunegara Palace with the Javanese martial art pencak silat has resulted in the performance being a blend of flowing rhythm, fluid grace and aggressive precision. Because of this combination, the opera’s dances feel both delicate and dangerous at the same time.

One of the challenges that Atilah faced was that the opera was created to be performed in the traditional form known as langendriyan, a mixture of musical theater and dance. This meant that all the actors needed to be able to sing, dance and act, a combination that proved very difficult to cast.

During auditions in Yogyakarta and Surakarta last year, a total of 500 people showed up. At the end of the day, only 60 made the cut. The actors then rehearsed four to five times a week at the IIA theater.

“We were not only trying to produce excellent dancers, singers and actors, but also instill the spirit of the story into the performance,” said Eko, the lead choreographer.

“Their technical skills needed to blend with the spirit of the story.”

To achieve this, many of the dancers and choreographers joined Atilah on a visit to the tombs of Raden Mas and Rubiyah in Wonogiri. They also took a trip to Desa Matah, the village where the warrior couple met and fell in love.

“We did not have any mystical agenda during our visit,” Eko said. “We did it to understand the story better and connect with the spirit for their stage characters.”

It was Rubiyah’s tomb, half encircled by her 40 female soldiers, that gave the choreographers the idea to construct a similar dance formation on stage. While the idea added power and authenticity to the performance, it also posed a new problem.

“I came and watched the rehearsal,” said Jay Subiakto, one of the top art directors in the country.

“The dance formations were awesome, but there were 60 people dancing on stage, which made it hard to see them all.”

As a solution, Jay suggested and then constructed an elevated, stainless-steel platform that slants 15 degrees from the center of the stage so that even the dancers at the back would be visible to the audience.

“It’s shaped like a trapezium,” Jay said. “I actually adapted the shape from the pattern of a vintage Javanese batik that represents femininity.”

The stage, constructed in Jakarta, was shipped to Solo.

“When we first saw the stage, we were all awestruck,” choreographer Daryono said. “We all thought it was crazy.”

Initially, the dancers were hesitant about rehearsing on the metal-surface stage. Eventually, however, everyone got used to the idea. The result is a performance that is almost ethereal.

“A good show is never easy to produce,” Jay said. “We put in a lot of extra effort to make this look different and spectacular.”

In one battle scene, for example, seemingly endless rows of dancers move in unison toward the front of the stage, like a wave cresting in the audience’s direction, as the metallic stage glints ferociously under the spotlights.

The premiere of “Matah Ati” will take place at the Theater Hall of the Esplanade in Singapore, on Oct. 22-23.

During the opera’s run there, a collection of antique batik from Solo will also be on display at Mangkunegara Palace, along with another display of wayang golek (wooden puppets).

After the Singapore stop, the opera is scheduled for performances in Kuala Lumpur, Hong Kong, Beijing and a number of European cities in 2011.

In Indonesia, “Matah Ati” will go on tour in a number of cities next year, but the details have yet to be finalized.

“Hopefully, the show can restore the image of Solo, as well as introduce Indonesia’s rich traditional heritage to the world,” Atilah said.


‘Matah Ati’
Esplanade Theater
1 Esplanade Drive
Singapore
Oct. 22-23, 8 p.m.
www.sistic.com

http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/arts/solos-operatic-soul/401555

Angki Purbandono: The art of scanography

One may at first think the exhibition of noodle art at the Garis Artspace here is some kind of food promotion. But the opposite holds true.

Angki Purbandono, Indonesia’s most prominent artist specializing in scanography – the process of producing artistic digital images by means of an ordinary flat-bed image scanner – has now taken his scan-art to the realms of noodles. 

Placing noodles directly onto the scanner’s glass is like setting up a mini stage where the artist plays the stage director. Such a thought comes to mind as one looks at the works currently on show at the Garis ArtSpace.

Entering the space, one is first struck by images of elegant dragons seemingly playing with noodles. In the Western tradition, dragons are often thought of as awful monsters, but in the Chinese tradition, they carry with them the meaning of luck and welfare. The dragons in his scan-art, he says, are descendants of the Chinese Golden Dragon, raised in Europe. 

He lets them dance, with the noodle(s) falling into place playfully.

Of course these are mini toys he combines with noodles, which are placed directly onto the glass of a scanner. Once the scanner button has been pressed, the images are printed on first quality paper, then inserted into a neon light box, which gives a unique luster to the printed image.

“I use a simple, inexpensive flatbed scanner,” he once said.

Instead of taking the picture using a camera lens, which gives a sense of distance from the object photographed, the artist places the object on the scanner’s glass plate, where lighting is uniform and depth of field is limited, allowing the finest details to be captured. The neon light box in which the printed image is placed adds an unusual luster rarely seen in print presentations.

Arranged with a toy tank and a Chinese flag, the green flat noodles in Noodle Territory morph into a work of art with a historical twist, which refers to China as the birthplace of noodles made of grain more than 7,000 years ago.

Bihun Park, by Angki Purbandono

Those in modern North America and Europe are usually made of wheat, he says referring to scientific findings.

Arranging the noodles on the scanner’s glass plate has evidently allowed Angki ample time to let his artistic urges play a role.

A very fine type of noodles, called bihun in Indonesia, made him think of the sperm whale, the deepest-diving whale, so he arranged these fine noodles in a work titled Bihun Park, suggesting a park where young sperm whales can swim before they go to sleep at 3.219 meter below sea level.

For him, playing with mini toys is as fascinating today as it was in his younger days. He can place the toys where he sees them fit, and according to his mood and imagination.

As he was “fumbling” with noodles, he thought for instance about how they could soothe a woman’s feelings, he said, as if women were the creatures par excellence to be feted with noodles. So he inserted a toy resembling a woman in the pile of noodles, calling it Noodle Therapy.

Yet, what appears as a simple play, is preceded by a thorough research into the meaning of the subject matter. This is revealed in the work titled Superman is Dead, which features noodles as we see them when opening a pack of instant noodles.

In the catalog, Angki warns that flavor enhancers like monosodium glutamate are dangerous for people with severe, poorly controlled asthma, while flavors derived from sardines or yeast extract are not recommended for vegetarians, vegans and even superheroes.

Crayon Shin-chan, by Angki Purbandono

His work titled Crayon Shin-chan – inspired by the Japanese manga and anime series written by Yoshito Usui – with which he feels an emotional bond strikes a different chord. He was working with Crayon Shin-chan, placing the toy figure of the main character Shinnosuke “Shin” Nohara in between his flower and mushroom prints in neon light boxes, when the creator of Crayon Shin-chan died in September 2009.

Since then, every September, Angki has created works or exhibitions including Crayon Shin-chan, as a homage to its creator Yoshito Usui.

Of course making images with a scanner is nothing new. After all, the medical world has used scanners for ages to see the human body’s finest details, and scan-art has existed abroad for quite some time.

But to make images the way Angki does is fairly unique, particularly as he does so using simple techniques that produce fascinating results. Angki’s affair with the scanner began in 2005, when he spent a year in Seoul on an Asian Artist Fellowship from the National Museum of Contemporary Art, which he describes as a “life experience”.

His scanography gained acceptance when exhibited under the project of “Space and Shadows - Contemporary Art from Southeast Asia” at the Haus der Kulturen der Welt (House of World Cultures) in Berlin, Germany, later in 2005. In the same year, his first series of scans was also exhibited at Pocheon Asian Art Festival, Pocheon, Republic of Korea. In 2008, his works were included in the exhibition “Cut 2 Photography” from Southeast Asia at Valentine Willie Fine Art in Kuala Lumpur. The same gallery showed the subsequent “Cut 2 Photography” from Southeast Asia in Singapore in which Angki was invited to participate.

Thereafter, he held a solo exhibition titled “Happy Scan” at Biasa Art Space, Bali. Further nurtured by his participation (2007) in the Anonymous project under Landing Soon, a residency project conducted by Cemeti Art House (Yogyakarta) and Artoteek (now Heden, an art gallery based in The Hague), a photo research on old photographs bought in the flea market, his scan art culminated in the “Memories” series bringing together notions of past and present.

Noodle Territory, by Angki Purbandono

It seems Angki Purbandono is well on his way up. Recent solo shows include his exhibition at Richard Koh Fine Art in Kuala Lumpur, “2nd Folders” from Sukuoka at Vivi Yip Art Room in Jakarta, all held while participating in numerous joint shows.

— Photos courtesy of Angki Purbandono


Noodle Theory

Solo exhibition by Angki Purbandono
Garis Artspace
Jl. Hang Tuah II/2
Kebayoran Baru
Ph +62 21 7225785 begin_of_the_skype_highlighting              +62 21 7225785      end_of_the_skype_highlighting
Until October 18, 2010

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/10/15/angki-purbandono-the-art-scanography.html

Balinese: Between decline and transformation

Am I prejudiced? This is the question I asked myself a few days ago while arguing with noted Balinese scholar Nyoman Darma Putra.

I had missed the launch of his new book: Tonggak Baru Sastra Bali Modern (New Facts about Modern Balinese Literature), but I now found myself, two days later, sitting with him at the Pomodoro Italian restaurant in Northern Denpasar and discussing this very same book. 

In fact, I had accepted his invitation only because I wanted confirmation of a “hunch”, which I deemed a certainty: I was sure the Balinese language is under threat. 

Hasn’t UNESCO announced the probable extinctions of hundred of languages in the coming century? Isn’t it also true too that Balinese is now rarely spoken in Denpasar?

But, after listening to Darma Putra’s arguments, I started to wonder: What if we were both wrong? What if I was yet another “victim” of the West’s obsession with “Decline and Fall” that has haunted many Westerners, from Titus Livus down to Gibbon and Rousseau?

According to Darma Putra — and he gave good arguments that I present below — Balinese culture and language are not in decline. They are “transforming” themselves. Interesting! I was almost convinced.

With one reservation, though: if I am an inveterate Rousseauist, what if Darmaputra were reading Balinese reality through the prism of his own, very “Balinese”, Hindu cyclical dynamism? So, are we, he as much as I, trapped in our respective, deep-seated cultural patterns and prejudices?

And if so, is it possible to be objective?

Darma Putra’s book is an interesting description of the long decline, and now renaissance, of Balinese literature and language. A collection of articles published in various media, it begins with history, showing that modern Balinese literature appeared well before what was thought until recently, when Wayan Gobiah published his novel Nemu Karma in 1931.

He recently discovered that the first truly “modern” writer in Balinese was Guru Pasek, who published short stories 100 years ago.

Darma Putra then shows that literature in Balinese was at best surviving until twenty years ago, as if the thrust of “Malay-Indonesian”, associated first with the notion of progress and then with nationalism, were so strong as to threaten the long-term survival of Balinese.

Magazines in Balinese emerged to then disappear after a few months or years, their most reputed writers, Made Sanggra, Nyoman Manda and Djelantik Santha,  never becoming more than “marginal” figures in an intellectual and literary life — dominated by Indonesian. This went along with the fact that Balinese language was not taught beyond primary education and, outside rituals, never used in official occasions, including to teach or discuss Balinese literature at the academic level.

More attention was in fact paid to the dead Kawi language than to modern Balinese. There was of course a political background to this predicament.

The New Order regime, militaristic in nature, emphasized “unity” rather than “diversity” — the two concepts found in the national motto of Unity in Diversity (Bhinneka Tunggal Ika).

Modern languages other than the national language (Indonesian) were implicitly deemed potential threats.

A few pasamuhan (seminars) were held, and even regulations on the use of Balinese enacted (1992), but this was mere lip service to the notion of “diversity”. Thus, lacking genuine political support, and with works read at best by a few hundred people, Balinese literature only survived, at best.

Furthermore, most of the works published were poetry or short stories. Hardly any essays  were published. All this had dramatic consequences: Balinese lost its ability to create words adapted to modern realities. It failed in particular to grasp abstraction.

As a result, it turned into a lingo mixing Balinese grammatical structures with an increasingly Indonesian-laden vocabulary.

Yet, Darma Putra demonstrates in his book, through literary examples, and otherwise explains verbally, that the situation above is now changing.

The swing is now going the other way, he says emphatically, as the result of a complex mix of social and political factors.

Indeed, the changes associated to tourism, and the fact in particular that the Balinese people are losing control over their own economy, was bound to provoke reactions beyond the lip service mentioned above.

Exogenous factors also played a role. The Balinese were not the only ones to wish to react against the centralistic cultural policies of the New Order.

In 1989, a Sundanese writer from West-Java, Ayip Rosidi, set up an association that delivered a prize — Hadiah Rancage — to writers in Sundanese. This prize was later extended to Javanese writers in 1994 and to Balinese in 1998.

Meanwhile, pressure started building up for the respect of “diversity” (kebhinnekaan). Seminar speakers, such as Ngurah Bagus in Bali, became more vocal.

The climax, though, was the fall of the military government in 1998, which transformed the balance of power between the center (Jakarta) and regions. A law establishing local autonomy was rapidly passed, which gave locals much broader control over the cultural policy of their respective regions.

This reversed the “decline” trend: Balinese became part of the secondary education curriculum. A Balinese television channel was launched. Last but not least, in 2006, the Bali Post started publishing a weekly addendum to its Sunday edition.

All this created a new momentum. Students are now enrolling in droves in Balinese language departments. Some have become writers.

They now write in the Bali Orti section of the Bali Post.

This revival upsurge impacts the language itself, which is becoming more “modern”. The use of the levels of language — with their inherent display of status inequality — is becoming more supple; and a Balinese abstract vocabulary dealing with modern issues is now appearing.

This clearly shows that “evolution” is a complex matter when it comes to language and societies.

Political swings, themselves the result of people’s awareness, play a prominent role in the matter.  A fact already demonstrated in the revival of Hebrew and, more recently, of Ukrainian, not to mention Gaelic and Breton.

But let’s remain aware that decline might well still be lurking in the corner: Why is it that fewer and fewer of my friends are addressing me in Balinese?

So, is Balinese becoming provisionally entrenched in some sectors of society while it is disappearing from others — urban life, interethnic communication, in which Indonesian and English are taking over?

And more importantly: if Balinese is turning into a vehicle of modernity, is it still able to transmit the island’s cultural memory? Every Balinese now knows Batman and Mickey Mouse. But what about Pan Balang Tamak, Sutasoma and Gagak Aking? There may be no decline of the language, but a decadence of culture.

On the whole, if Westerners have to temper their “gloom and doom” tendencies, so should Balinese with their overly optimistic “transformationism”.

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/08/26/balinese-between-decline-and-transformation.html

Ababi’s ritual of warriors

The sun had almost disappeared into the horizon when the usually peaceful village of Ababi, Karangasem, was taken over by a bastion of proud warriors.

Dozens of men swarmed the village main street with krisses drawn on their hands. Bare-chested, they wore sarongs draped with poleng (checkered black and white cloth) and blazing red udeng (headgear).

Their upper torso glistened under the scorching sun as they rushed along the road. In unison, they repeatedly raised their hands, their krisses pointed at the sky, to show their readiness to attack.

Following them was a procession of a less aggressive character. Hundreds of men and women carried various offerings and sacred objects, such as jempana (wooden thrones of the deities), pratima (statues) and the

temple’s banners.

The menacing march was part of the Nyeret, an ancient procession staged every two years, on the day of Purnama Kapat, the full moon on the fourth month of Balinese traditional calendar — which falls around September or October. On that day, villagers hold a major temple festival at the village’s Puseh temple.

“Nyeret is usually held on the third day of the temple festival,” said the temple’s priest Jro Mangku Ketut Kaler Astawa.

During the procession, the participants march from Puseh temple to Laga temple in the neighboring village of Pidpid, three kilometers along the main streets, dirt roads and narrow alleys. 

Upon arrival at Laga temple, the warriors of Ababi invite the deity of the temple, Ida Bhatara Anglurah Sakti, to join the feast of the deities at Puseh temple. They then escort the statue of Ida Bhatara Anglurah Sakti back to Puseh temple.

 “Nyeret is a symbolic display of the Ababi people’s commitment to protect and defend Dharma [the truth] as well as their loyalty and devotion to the gods and deities,” he added.

As the participants made their way back to Ababi, the villagers had lined the road leading to Puseh temple.

They carried colorful offerings for the deities. When the armed entourage reached the outer courtyard of Puseh temple, the elders of Ababi fell into a trance. 

They danced with closed eyes as if they greeted the deity of the Laga temple. The participants of Nyeret then encircled the temple’s inner sanctum thrice before ending Nyeret with a joint prayer.

“Nyeret is an old tradition that has been carried out since feudal times,” the temple’s priest said, adding that unfortunately nobody knew the exact date of the first Nyeret.

The Karangasem kingdom, arguably the strongest military power in feudal Bali, drew a large number of its warriors from Ababi during feudal times.

“We still have a war council and warriors council in the structure of the village administration. The councils are known as Pauman Luput and Pauman Manca,” he said.

While younger generations of Ababi’s warriors do not always understand the philosophy or symbolism of Nyeret, they still joined in the procession with an enthusiasm that would make their ancestors proud.

An Ababi youth, I Wayan Pasek Wasma, who lives and works in Denpasar, participated in the last Nyeret. The experience filled his heart with both joy and melancholy.

“I was happy I could express myself as a descendant of proud warriors. At the same time, I was deeply touched, particularly when we escorted Ida Bhatara [the deity] during the march. I felt and still feel that I will give anything for Ida Bhatara.”

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/10/21/ababi%E2%80%99s-ritual-warriors.html

Fab Cafe: A perfect rendezvous

If it stands alone, Fab Cafe may remain a stranger. But when you says Fab Cafe, Gramedia, Grand Indonesia East Mall, it will no longer be anonymous. 

Instead, located just across the road from the iconic Hotel Indonesia traffic circle, the cafe is a perfect rendezvous.

Upcoming author Ahmad Fuadi, who recently spoke about his bestselling novel titled Negeri 5 Menara (Nation of 5 Towers) during the Meet the Authors and Photo Exhibition to help needy students held by the Singapore International Foundation (SIF)-ASEAN Fellowship Indonesian alumni at the cafe, commented: “Having a gathering in here reminds me of a famous book store with a cafe abroad.”

Another speaker, Ubaidillah Nugraha, who is also the organizing committee co-chairman, said the cafe was easily located which was one of key factors that ensured an event would be successful.

The cafe just fits our plan, he said.

He claimed his event had more than 115 guests and raised donations of Rp 30 million (US$3,300) in just two hours. 

In a month, the cafe says it hosts between two and five such events with the client organization paying for the food packages it chooses. 

All event organizers have to do is to check that that their laptops and projectors can connect with the café’s electronic devices and that these connections work well for when they hold an event in the café, as it is equipped with a big LCD screen, two microphones, and a sound system fitted into the ceiling. 

That’s not the only strength of Fab Cafe, since the food and beverages are worth trying as well. Try raining berries, a healthy juice made from blackberries, strawberries, blueberries, yogurt, milk and honey.  

When I tasted it, I found it fresh and it persuaded me to drink more of it. Its color is also tempting violet with two or three slices of strawberry being put in the juice.

Double chocolate hazelnut will be my next recommendation. Neither too soft nor too hard, it’s just right. It is also not too sweet on the tongue.

“Hmm, I like this cake,” I told the café manager, Aldino Atwir and he responded swiftly: “Thanks, it’s also the choice of our group hotel general manager, who sent his chef to learn the recipe after he tasted it.”

For the main course, I tried a bite of a smoked salmon with apple jelly, rucola, and wasabi mayo, and compared it with a beef burger with tomato, onion, pickles, and lettuce. I preferred the former. The look of smoked salmon was more convincing, not to mention its taste. The rucola also attracted me better than the lettuce.

However, my judgment over the main course is different from most Indonesians because, according to Aldino, local people generally preferred the burger to the smoked salmon.

“European people usually love our smoked salmon,” he said.

The cafe also served me with a Mexican dish called chicken quesadilla. The chicken pesto, the natural cheddar cheese, and guacamole, were wrapped in a flour tortilla.

As a fan of Mexican food particularly burrito, this time I was not really excited with the quesadilla because, perhaps, the taste was average. But if the cafe could provide me with a burrito, I think I would frequently come and eat there. 

Wild cherry ice tea may be also worth testing to know how wild the drink is. But for me, the red-color drink was too tasty particularly the taste and the smell of the cherry. I needed to add sugar so that my taste buds could take it. But, still I found that the freshness of the drink quickly affected my body.

I will definitely visit this cafe anew with friends because I am a regular visitor to Grand Indonesia, and when I do, I know what to order.

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/10/31/fab-cafe-a-perfect-rendezvous.html

Long live the King

Last Sunday, the people of Klungkung hailed their new king. 

Photos by Agung Parameswara

Hundreds of people dressed in traditional costume flocked the courtyard of Klungkung palace as the court’s high priest Ida Pedanda Gede Putra Tembau of Aan crowned Tjokorda Gde Agung Semaraputra as the new King of Klungkung. 

The elderly priest also bestowed a new name on the king: Ida Dalem Semaraputra.

Kings, princes and princesses from all over Bali and across the country, including members of the Nusantara Keraton Friendship Forum (FSKN), an umbrella organization cum lobby group for the country’s royalty, attended the coronation ceremony, which involved elaborate Balinese Hindu rituals and majestic sacred dances.

In feudal Bali, kings always treated the kings of Klungkung with deference and respect. 

Klungkung’s military power was perhaps not as terrifying as that wielded by Mengwi or Karangasem. Its diplomatic cunningness and political calculation might not have been as sharp as that repeatedly demonstrated by the kings of the Manggis dynasty in neighboring Gianyar.

Yet the kings of Bali never failed to treat the kings of Klungkung as equals, and always sought their wisdom and advice when other kings were locked in disputes. 

The prince of Karangasem and his suicidal warriors were the actual forces that conquered the neighboring island of Lombok. But the victory was humbly dedicated to the King of Klungkung, the sovereign of Bali and Lombok. And there was nothing that could unite the fragmented royalties of ancient Bali better than a legion of rebellious warriors advancing toward the Klungkung palace.

The brutal, yet tragic rebellion of Pande Bhasa and the victorious, albeit temporary, uprising of Gusti Agung Maruti, are a testament to this unity. Kings from various kingdoms in the island sent their fiercest warriors to defend the honor of the Klungkung’s crown.

This deferential attitude and loyalty toward Klungkung might have something to do with members of the Klungkung royalty being direct descendants from the Javanese ruler installed as the island’s king by the Majapahit empire’s legendary prime minister Gajah Mada, following his military conquest of the island in 14th century.

Members of this house, thus, directly related to Majapahit and its members, are perceived as the purest blood of the island’s royalty. Only the Kings of Klungkung can use the title “Dalem” while the others must be satisfied with “Tjokorda” or “Anak Agung”.

Young scholar Sugi Lanus said the coronation of the new “Dalem” reflected the strengthening of ethnic identitity, a phenomenon more evident in the last decade.

“We are seeing a growing tendency to reinforce traditional values, local wisdom, and cultural heritage to preserve or strengthen ethnic identity in its relation to the national identity or even the global identity,” he said.

“I called this phenomenon ‘reclaiming regalia’, an effort to reclaim past glory and at the same time a symbolic mutiny from the republic. When the number of kings keeps increasing across the archipelago, it must say something about the state of our integration as a nation and a unitary republic,” he stressed.

After the establishment of the republic in 1945, most royal houses in Bali decided not to crown any kings to lead the houses. The decision was partly political — to keep up with the modern and egalitarian spirit of the new state, and partly financial — it was difficult to maintain a lavish lifestyle, a personal harem and an oversized entourage when the support from colonial government ceased to exist, and political activists screamed for land reform.

Ida I Dewa Agung Gede Oka Geg, who was crowned in July 1929 by the Dutch and officially titled Zelfbesturder Landschap Van Klungkung, was the last colonial-era king of Klungkung.

Thing started to change in the last 10 years. Politician Anak Agung Ngurah Manik Pemecutan was crowned as the King of Pemecutan, one of three royal houses — Pemecutan, Denpasar and Kesiman — in Denpasar. In 2005, Tjokorda Ngurah Mayun Samirana was installed as the King of Denpasar. And in 2008, IGN Rupawan was crowned as the King of Tabanan.

The most surprising coronation took place in early 2010 when a former model and boy band singer turned politician and religious activist Arya Wekarna was crowned by one of his fans — a self-proclaimed mystic — as the King of Majapahit in Bali.

“It was ludicrous, a man crowned as a king, with no territory, no subjects and no history, a kingdom-less king indeed. The only thing he has is audacity beyond common courtesy,” social columnist Aridus commented.

Noted thinker and writer Aryantha Soetama offered a lighter take on the singer’s coronation.

 

“They don’t have anything better to do so one day they decided ‘well, I am going to be a king’. After all, you don’t need a license to be a king, there are no legal requirements whatsoever a person must fill to be a king. They can’t run a party because of the costs involved, they can’t be politicians because of the many legal requirements standing in their way. So, they simply become kings because it’s easy.”

King-ship in modern Bali, according to Aryantha, is about looking great without the greatness itself.

With this in mind, there is a huge probability that more and more kings will be crowned in the future.

Soon Bali will also be known as the Island of a Thousand Kings and Zero Kingdom.

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/10/14/long-live-king.html

A Year of Artful Delights in Yogya

When German national Claudia Seise studied at the Yogyakarta fine arts school Institut Seni Indonesia in 2005, she experienced the dynamic contemporary art scene there firsthand. She was so fascinated by it that she returned to Indonesia from her homeland in 2008 to look at the cultural scene more closely.

The result of her exploration was recently published in “One Year on the Scene: Contemporary Art in Indonesia.”

The book offers valuable insight into Yogyakarta’s vibrant art community, including its background and problems.

Color photographs of gallery artworks and exhibitions emphasize the diversity of the province’s creative culture.

Interestingly, the most engaging part of the book was the most challenging one for the author.

“I was basically overwhelmed by the sheer amount of exhibitions and art events taking place in just one month or even a week,” Seise wrote. “At times, there were three shows in one day.”

After a while, she said, it was simply impossible to visit every single event.

“There is a point where you just cannot take any more in,” she said.

“Every painting, every artwork starts to look the same. That is when you have to take a break and that is what I did in order to keep my project running.”

In the book’s first chapter, titled “To Be or Not to Be,” the author lets the artists speak for themselves.

They tell the readers their personal stories, what motivated them to become artists and the struggles they have experienced along the way.

This is followed by a chapter about the different themes in contemporary Indonesian art.

Another section titled “Exhibitions and Art Events” is written in the form of a diary. Seise writes about the countless exhibitions she attended in one year.

It is simply amazing to see how colorful and versatile Yogyakarta’s art scene is.

Seise rounds off the book with a “Behind the Scene” chapter, in which she lists the different art institutions and residency programs in Yogyakarta.

Here, she talks about the scene’s issues and problems, especially the issue of the commercialization of art.

Although the book presents a comprehensive account of Yogyakarta’s creative culture, Seise acknowledges that the book has its shortcomings.

“Even though I tried to capture a wide angle of the Yogyakarta art scene, I am aware that I did not capture everything,” she writes in the book’s final chapter.

However, one of the book’s redeeming qualities is that Seise did not just seek out the opinions of well-known artists for her research; she also made space for the opinions of up-and-coming artists.

“It doesn’t matter if I personally like the artists’ works or not,” she said.

“They all enrich their culture and encourage intercultural understanding because art always connects people, no matter where they come from.”

After having met so many artists with different backgrounds, missions and artistic styles, it seems almost impossible for the author to pick just one or two as her favorites.

But Seise still mentions a couple of artists who inspire her.

“Askanadi impressed me with his spiritual paintings,” she said.

“And Karina Putri Hariyanto fascinated me because she follows her own way in this often male-dominated world of arts and reveals her soul through her graphics.”

Seise, who is studying for a master’s degree in South and Southeast Asian studies in Berlin, says she sometimes misses Indonesia and its thriving art scene.

“Maybe someday, I will live like a nomad in both countries,” she said.

“And who knows, maybe there will even be a third country on my list.”

‘One Year on the Scene: Contemporary Art in Indonesia’  is published by Regiospectra English. 152 pages.

http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/arts/a-year-of-artful-delights-in-yogya/400698

Batik represents RI in London Festival of Architecture

A swirl of giant batik with the theme “Landscape of Diversity” flows through South Molton Lane in central London’s exclusive Mayfair district.

The sight is rare, not only because batik is hard to come by in London, but also because instead of fabric, the creation is made of plywood.

The installation was the work of six enthusiastic Indonesian architects who called themselves Alur Design, representing their country in the 2010 London Festival of Architecture (LFA2010). Five of the group are among the top students from AA (Architectural Association) School of Architecture: Ardes Perdhana, Kuncara Wicaksana, Prama Milyardi, Rizki Nindito and Olivia Putihrai. Monique Suksmaningsih, the sixth, is a graduate from TU Delft, the Netherlands.

“We used a batik pattern as the basis of our idea because it represents Indonesia and batik is widely used in daily life from birth to the grave” explained Olivia. “UNESCO designated Indonesian batik as a ‘Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity’, and we use Kawung pattern because it is the oldest design.”

The bold Kawung pattern makes a strong visual impact on the installation.

“The batik installation is so big that it’s impossible to display in the Indonesian Embassy,” said Tumpal Hutagalung, the economic counselor of the Indonesian Embassy in London.

“We created a piece of Indonesian culture translated into English, based on what London brings to us: A new method of using materials, technology and a new design method,” explained Kuncara, about his team’s contemporary piece.

“The project became much more interesting and challenging when we realized how limited our time was as full-time professionals, and that the sponsor’s funding was far less than what we’d expected.”

 “We are grateful that the company that we work for supported us by providing a meeting place for after-office hours work and also sponsored our work,” said Monique.

The six all have full-time jobs working in international architecture companies.

“For seven months we found time in after-office hours, starting from 9 p.m. Many a night we stayed up until 3 a.m. And at weekends we worked from 2 p.m. to 8 p.m. on this project” said Kuncara.

The six members’ strengths complement each other.

Rizki said: “We have a super team, dedicated to the project. Each has different opinions but we fill in each other’s gaps. We believe in our ability. Our strength is in research analysis and design”.

Some members had international exhibition experience, such as Olivia in Amsterdam and Monique in Kuala Lumpur, but none had experience doing such work in London.

“It’s a different ball game. The whole team was involved right from coordinating until the installation stage” says Olivia.

“The Welcoming City” was what London wanted to be labeled in LFA2010, and that was also the theme of the brief given through the British Council to the participants who entered last year’s competition — with the winners’ works displayed in this year’s festival under the International Architecture Showcase.

Collaborating with embassies and cultural institutes around the world, Indonesia was the only country from Southeast Asia among the 34 participating nations.

The London Festival of Architecture 2010, which ran from 19 June–4 July, demonstrated how the city supports anything to promote London. Three hundred events were spread throughout the city, focusing in three areas on weekends for activities: central, east and south London.

The central district pays homage to the 19th century London urban planning architect John Nash, whose ambitious projects introduced comfortable pedestrian paths to the well-known upper-class Marylebone and Regents Park neighborhoods.

He also planned Trafalgar Square, the Marble Arch, the gate to Hyde Park, remodeled the area around Buckingham Palace and the canal links through London to the River Thames. Architecture is seen as an important part of the city’s history and also the life and future of the country.

There’s even a statue of John Nash, who’s well known for his 1811 Nash master plan, in Marylebone.

“In the LFA, we can clearly see architecture as part of the community and public space,” said Monique.

Talks and debates were held under such themes as “The Triumph of the Pedestrian City”, which discussed whether London was sufficiently pedestrian friendly, and how to overcome challenges of shrinking space, or Architectural Charities, which explained the challenge of advocating and training in a disaster zone or poor and conflict areas.

In the high streets of East London, LFA embraces retailers such as Banana Republic, Anthropologie and Austin Reed to have installations by artists and architecture firms as their window displays.

“London is very metropolitan; and even though each community is opening up to new culture, it still can maintain its identity,” said Kuncara.

Meanwhile, London’s Bankside — on the south side of the River Thames — with its Urban Forest theme, invited children to create buildings made of sugar cubes. Irish artist Brendan Jamison made a 2-meter wide model of the Tate Modern from 71,908 sugar cubes weighing 224 kilograms.

“I’ve been fascinated with building models since I was very young, starting with Lego” said Jamison, while he stacked sugar cubes into what looked like the base of an oval building shaped like a rocket.

In a back street area under a train railway bridge in Union Street, a patch of undeveloped land was transformed into a lush green community garden.

“The developer of this land loves our idea and supported LFA project by kindly lending us this piece of land for three months,” Moira Lascelles, LFA’s consultant curator, told The Jakarta Post.

The garden offered a plant swapping program, a toad-spawn pool for children, a bus shelter decorated with children’s drawings and a theater stage made of recycled products. All the projects in the Urban Orchard were recycled.

Used tires were stacked with a plastic sheet on top as stage lamps, and shredded tires replaced gravel on the garden paths.

In 2012, London will host an LFA biennale as the gateway for the London Olympics and Alur Design is keen to participate.

“We would like to take Indonesian heritage to another level with a new design method with a piece that interacts with the public, to take the modernity of Indonesia further into the future without losing its identity,” Lascelles said, adding that Indonesia, with its richness in culture and diverse architecture, should take note and be proud to exhibit and promote itself to the world with a similar event.

As Rizki said: “All it needs is integrated support from the government, the city mayor, Indonesian companies as well as from the public to make it happen.”

Links:

www.alurdesign.com

www.lfa2010.org

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/07/29/batik-represents-ri-london-festival-architecture.html

Tintin Wulia: ‘Attacking’ a wall

Visitors attending the opening of Tintin Wulia’s solo exhibition at Ark Gallery tonight are likely to be shocked when asked to partake in what may seem as an act of pure vandalism.

But to do so, they have to pay first: a colored grid a la Mondriaan will be projected on the wall, with one of its colored squares awarded to the highest bidder at the auction led by well-known auctioneer Amir Sidharta.

After the auction, only one visitor will be allowed to “attack” the wall — which involves making a hole in the selected square. By the eighth projected grid, the wall will be totally ruined, but probably still standing. The process will be recorded on three cameras — hung in three different sections of the ceiling — that will be taking pictures from different angles and time ranges, thus producing art of a different kind. 

This is Tintin Wulia’s way of visualizing what is happening in our world, where efforts to break down freedom-hampering “walls” exist, but are still too few. The work is titled Constructing Holes, it is part of the exhibition “De-Constructing Walls”. 

This is the most forceful of Tintin’s exploration of identity, mobility and boundary issues, where she has moved away from her usual subtle aesthetic and delicate though pungent critique. 

However the basic remains the same, perhaps a bit tamer as her explorations show the multiple realities in life. Tintin has always dreamed of a world where one could fly without constraints, the way Peter Pan could.

As a teenager, she wished Peter Pan would lose his shadow in her neighborhood, and find her if she could fly, which she thought would be possible if she had happy thoughts. But of course she discovered humans like us can only fly with a passport and a valid visa, which she thought is really “shit*y”.

Her installation titled (Re)collection of Togetherness at the Jakarta Biennale was staggering, as was her work of kites made of her family’s personal documents tied to razor blades. 

While such works germinated from her personal experience as a Chinese Indonesian, the issue of mobility has become global with people increasingly moving around the world, bringing up issues of borders, nationality, identity and “belonging”. 

Her research becomes more playful, as her works become increasingly interactive, while she “maps” a world in progress. 

Recently she asked a group of customers (almost all expats) — having dinner at Potato Head restaurant — how they had moved from one country to another and where they would like to move to if they could chose.

Using peanuts, chilli and other spices, as well as flowers, the group of about 90 people indicated the places they had moved to, or would like to move to, thus “creating” a new world population map.

On this map, one could clearly see more and more people moving towards Asia compared to Europe or America, and less toward Brazil.

Earlier Tintin had performed the same stunt in Patna, India, with flowers, but unlike her work with spices in Jakarta, she created a map made of flowers beforehand, calling the performance and the video Nous ne notons pas les fleurs (We do not record flowers). 

Afterwards, she asked her audience to mark their travels from one state to another. The work was originally presented as an installation and interactive performance at Soil Bite, Khoj International Workshop 2009 in Patna, India, before she turned it into a video triptych with the same title. 

The work, she says, was informed by the local context — Bihar, the state of which Patna is the capital, has the highest rate of emigration in India, and is part of the eastern region ridden with border problems.

Tintin borrowed the title from an excerpt of Saint Exupéry’s little book Le Petit Prince, where a geographer tells the Little Prince that geographers do not record flowers when they draw maps because, unlike the earth, flowers are ephemeral. Tintin said she used flowers precisely because they were ephemeral. 

While the actions and interactions in Tintin’s works are interesting, videos made of these are even more fascinating. Through her videos, Tintin Wulia, a trained musician, architect and film composer pursuing her PhD in visual art at RMIT university in Australia, portrays the exciting ways new media can be art showing at once different perspectives and layers of reality — something inconceivable in the past. 

During the last decade, Tintin has exhibited her works internationally in private and public institutions such as Osage Gallery, Van Abbemuseum, London’s Institute of Contemporary Art, the Istanbul Biennale and Yokohama Triennale.

As I visited Ark Gallery on Sunday, Tintin was preparing her exhibition with curator Alia Swastika. I cannot wait to see the videos of Construction of the Holes.

‘Deconstruction of a wall’

Solo exhibition by Tintin Wulia
Ark Gallery
Jl. Senopati 92 Jakarta

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/09/30/tintin-wulia-%E2%80%98attacking%E2%80%99-a-wall.html

Bringing the World to Jakarta

The list of complaints about living in Jakarta seems endless, with traffic and pollution easily taking the top spots. There are also others who criticize the capital for its lack of community-based evening activities.

The people who complain about the latter have probably never set foot in the Jakarta International Community Center, a meeting point for expats and locals, and a bustling center that offers a wide range of courses and activities for both children and adults.

Founded in 2001 by two Indian women, Molina Hazuria and Veena Singh, JICC’s original aim was to disseminate information to new expats in Jakarta.

In fact, the center’s aim of helping new arrivals get settled in the capital has been incorporated into its mission statement, which states that “Living in a foreign land requires more than curiosity and a sense of adventure, it demands knowledge, the proper attitude and skills to be able to adapt to a new culture.”

“They also wanted to give people who had just arrived from overseas a place where they could feel at home,” said Nova Farida Lestari, program manager at JICC.

“They wanted to build a place that bridges the gap between the local community and expats.”

Located along a quiet street in the popular Kemang district in South Jakarta, everyone is welcome at the JICC.

The cozy sofas in the main room provide the perfect setting for both guests and members to have a refreshing drink and chat.

Bookworms can pick out a book from a stack of novels, while music lovers can sit down at the piano and entertain others.

In the garden of the house, a swimming pool and some wooden sun lounges make for a pleasant afternoon.

However, helping expats make the transition in Jakarta only represents part of JICC’s current projects.

The center also holds regular classes and courses for both its members and visitors.

“We have a lot of different activities on our schedule,” Nova said, “from cooking classes to health classes and also courses in the field of arts and culture, like painting and dancing.”

And JICC’s program for the next three months reveal the community’s effort to make Jakartans’ life more colorful.

According to Nova, the most popular classes for children are taekwondo and the little chef cooking class. “Normally, these two classes fill up really fast,” she said.

By joining JICC’s taekwondo classes, the little ones not only have fun, but also learn valuable life skills.

 While the classes help children improve their physical fitness, they also teach them basic life skills, such as teamwork, following instructions and respecting others.

The little chef cooking classes have been popular because the kids enjoy showing off their creations to family members.

“When they are done, they can take home the cupcakes, cookies and donuts they have made during the class and show it to their parents,” Nova said.

The center’s classes for adults have also been a hit, with language courses attracting the most participants. “We offer Bahasa Indonesia classes for adults,” Nova said.

“People who will stay in Indonesia for a while want to understand the language, of course, so they can easily interact with the locals.”

The cooking classes are also popular among the women, Nova said. And it is not only Indonesian cuisine that is being offered on the menu.

Culinary lessons range from how to make sushi to whipping up delicious Italian pasta.

While JICC finds most of the teachers for its classes externally, sometimes they don’t even have to look beyond the community’s walls.

“We encourage our members to teach the classes themselves,” she said.

“Whenever we see that someone has a special skill or talent, we try to convince them to share it with the others. For example, one of our members from Mexico is offering a cooking class on how to make fajitas and tortillas.”

Today, JICC has over 800 members of various nationalities. But even if the majority are from abroad, JICC also encourages Indonesians to join their community.

“Our basic idea is that this community should be open to all nationalities,” Nova said. “So of course, Indonesians are also most welcome. Right now, I would say, it is 80 percent foreigners and 20 percent locals.”

Other highlights on the center’s program include yoga and tai chi, silk and oil painting, gamelan and Javanese dancing, as well as day trips to various interesting sites in Jakarta.

The community even offers English courses for domestic helpers of expat families to help ease the communication gap.

Nova said that she enjoys being a part of the big JICC family. “It’s great to meet people from different nationalities on a daily basis,” she said.

“There’s always something new to learn and to explore for me here.”


Jakarta International Community Center, Jl. Kemang Dalam X, No. E6A, South Jakarta. Tel: 021 7179 281
 
For JICC’s full program from Oct. to Dec., log on to www.jicconline.com.
http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/lifestyle/bringing-the-world-to-jakarta/398918