THE CULTURE OF THINGS : Solo Exhibition by RUDI MANTOFANI
NOV 19 - Dec 4, 2006
CP ARTSPACE, JAKARTA




Exploration into the World of Things
by Jim Supangkat, Curator

Five artists from Yogya, under the name of “Kelompok Seni Rupa Jendela”—or the Jendela Art Group—caught the attention of the Indonesian art world in 1966, as they introduced works that were against the mainstream. Some of their works were abstract; others presented things from our daily lives that seemed to be trivial.

Mainstream artworks at the time were “screaming” about grand matters—social problems, awareness about humanity, protesting against the repressive power, and fighting for justice. Amid the idioms offering such social commentaries, the works of the Jendela Art Group seemed to be “silent” and offered no messages.

As people were questioning about the group, the works of the two sculptors from the group, Yusra Martunus and Rudi Mantofani, incited further interpretations. Their three dimensional works—sculptures and installation works—were created with meticulous technique and perfect calculation of forms. Because of this tendency, critics suspected that the Jendela Art Group was returning to formalism. 

In the development of art, formalism serves as a sign of the (world’s) modern art in the 20th century, and is known as one of the dominant tendencies before the birth of the contemporary art around the 1970s. Aesthetic matters in formalism are focused on the calculation of forms. Its underlying philosophy believes that aesthetic matter, presented as it is through forms, is distant from the understanding of life, the meaning of reality, and the search for the values that are betrayed in the tradition of representing reality. Formalism, therefore, is integrally related with the abolition of representation in the artwork. This belief came to be along with the birth of the abstract art.

In Indonesia, the signs of the formalist tendency could be seen in art development during the 1950s, and appeared only visually as the formalist thoughts and discourse were not thoroughly understood. In 1950s, such works were criticized as having “no soul” and merely playing with forms and idioms.

Such criticism has also been directed to the Jendela Art Group at the end of the 1990s. The artists in the Jendela Art Group were perceived as merely tinkering with forms and techniques. Their works, therefore, were considered as presenting nothing, or offering no content.

At the time I had the opportunity to be present in a forum discussing the works of the Jendela Art Group in the Lontar Gallery of the Utan Kayu Community in Jakarta. I heard critics professing their inability to find any text in the exhibited works, as well as critics who asserted that the works had no content whatsoever. Facing such criticism, the artists of the Jendela Art Group were ambiguous. They did not reject the criticism, but neither did they accept it.

Observing such attitude, however, I gathered that the artists of the Jendela Art Group were actually aware that they had avoided the presence of text in their works; that is if we were to say that this was a bipolar matter of either having or not having any text. The reason for this absence had not been unveiled in the discussion at Lontar Gallery at the time, as the artists were not ones who could skillfully employ the verbal language in order to expound their views.
Amid the absence of statements explaining the philosophical background of the group, the works of Handiwirman’s, one of the artists of the Jendela Art Group, presented strong signs showing the tendency of the Jendela Art Group. Handiwirman presented found objects that were “discarded, unimportant objects”—such as a ball of cotton, a cologne bottle, and even cigarette butts. 

In the exhibition, these objects were “marginally” displayed—stuck with adhesive tape on a pillar, placed in dark corners, or laid on the floor without any frame or base. The philosophy behind it was quite obvious: Handiwirman showed his distaste toward grand matters and he stated his distaste by dramatically displaying trivialities.

Seen from the viewpoint of the history of art, the works of the Jendela Art Group could be taken as the harbinger of a new artistic development. The tendency of the group to go against the mainstream reflects the efforts to find a new orientation amid the growing trends. Therefore, the tendency of the Jendela Art Group must be analyzed by observing the important signs of the preceding art developments.

As we observe the works of the Jendela Art Group, we can find the tendency to react and be critical toward the developments of the Indonesian contemporary art in the mid-1990s. Three signs can be seen as the characteristics of the contemporary art developments at the time.

The first was the tendency to present grand and important matters, especially those related to the political tumult that reached its apex in the political reform in 1998—signified by the fall of the Suharto regime after being in power for 32 years.

The second was the tendency to strengthen the context and localness in the artistic idioms, as a reaction toward the domination of the modern art, which had been based on the belief of universalism.  This was a general contemporary-art tendency in the world. In Indonesia, the tendency became explicit after the Indonesian artists joined the regional/international contemporary art exhibitions since the beginning of the 1990s.

The third tendency was the tendency to forsake painting—a tendency that was also common in the contemporary art development everywhere else in the world. Such tendency gave rise to idioms in installation and performance art. Perhaps due to the artists’ unfamiliarity with the new media, or probably because the artists were deliberately opposing the order of forms as had been prevalent in formalism, the installation works of the time were apparently presented in a haphazard manner.

The tendency of the Jendela Art Group was a reaction toward these three previous tendencies. The works of the group tended to show the opposite of the three contemporary art tendencies of the 1990s. We could discern their attention to idioms, which had previously been ignored (it could be said that the works presented by the group contrasted the haphazard presentation of the previous development). The exponents of the Jendela Art Group took a difficult route in their artistic journey. Their works—especially those by Yusra Martunus and Rudi Mantofani—showed meticulous calculation and order of forms.

In their reaction toward the previous artistic developments, members of the Jendela Art Group traced the small and trivial things, small matters that seemed to be unworthy of our consideration. It would be superfluous, for example, to read a piece of discarded plastic bag as a matter of urban waste. It would be overly serious, too, to view a piece of a bottle cap as a problem of consumerism.

The pursuit of such trivia caught the public attention as it was presented in ways that were by no means trivial. In Rudi Mantofani’s works, such trivial things were presented in thoroughly ordered forms and with meticulous technique.

These signs showed that Jendela Art Group was not returning to formalism of the 1950s. On the other hand, their works revealed the tendency of the contemporary art in the 1990s.

In the art development of Yogyakarta, such critical reactions and thoughts often appeared as a sign of an art development. Such a critical reaction is not necessarily presented in manifestos, but instead through the way the artist works. Following this tradition, Jendela Art Group can be seen as carrying a new tendency whose signs only start to appear. As we observe the developments in art today—after the year 2000—critical reactions toward the three signs of the contemporary art in the 1990s seem to be widely spread and betrayed in various artworks.

By 2000, exponents of Jendela Art Group decided to focus on the development of each member. It was not that the group was disbanded; rather, they chose not to focus on their collective growth that was usually attained through joint-exhibitions.

This was actually a strategic step—whether they realized it or not. To hold on to the group development would probably lead them to dwell on the search for a similarity among them. The artists would be forced to make their works similar, or to find an ideology that would make a similarity in their works desirable.

As the artists developed individually, the previously obscure philosophy behind the Jendela Art Group became increasingly clear. The tendency that had previously been constantly questioned became legible. The developments in the works of Rudi Mantofani’s betray this tendency. His works that are created after 2000 strengthen the tendency of Jendela Art Group. Not only does the tendency become legible; but its origin also turns distinct.

In his individual developments, Rudi Mantofani’s works increasingly show his dexterity and are far from being haphazardly presented. Rudi also constantly shows the tendency to introduce things that are seemingly unimportant. 

In the works he created after 2000, the awareness to present things from our daily life becomes increasingly apparent. Appear there, for example, a banana, a watermelon, a cucumber, a pail, a grinding bowl, a washing board, an aquarium, and an ironing board. His maturity in the art of crafting, however, strongly creates the impression that these things are important—for Rudi at least.

Rudi’s developments after 2000 points out that the tendency of Jendela Art Group was not merely a sign in the development of Indonesian contemporary art in 1990s. The developments in Rudi’s works might be able to show that the group’s tendency precisely signified the appearance of the contemporary art in Indonesia.

The developments in Rudi’s works remind me of one important sign of the contemporary art—i.e. questioning the “Grand Narration”. Arthur Danto said that representation in the contemporary art is no longer the representation of a (grand) narrative. Today, when the understanding of the reality is based more on a total tolerance and pluralism, there is not one narrative that can serve as the development standard for the people. There is not one order that can serve as the reference for all realities (After the End of Art. Arthur Danto. Princeton University Press, 1997).

The dominant belief in the Indonesian contemporary art still sees artworks as text. The reading of the artwork invariably involves two important matters. First, the analysis of the idiom as the receptacle for the meaning or content (this is textual reading). Second, the analysis of the content or the search for meaning, which is related to philosophy on reality. The value-seeking textual reading often dwells merely on the grand narrations. These narrations are believed as a certainty in determining the value of art, and made as the standard for judging art. Such attitude is actually closer to the tradition of the modern art in the 20th century, rather than to that of the contemporary art.

The characteristic of the contemporary art as reflected in Rudi Mantofani’s works is the shift of the locus in the subject matter, from the world of human beings to the world of things. This is the curatorial focus in Rudi Mantofani’s solo exhibition in CP Artspace, November 2006. Rudi’s works in this exhibition present a world without human beings, a world of things that “speak” through visual charms.

Today, the world of things becomes dominant and impossible to ignore.  The progress of production in all sectors of life not only confine us in the world of things, but also propels this world of things to keep on spawning new visual enchantments in a rapid succession.

In Indonesia it is often said that malls and shopping centers are not merely places to shop. These shopping centers have become a place for recreation as well, where people not simply buy things but also explore the world of objects or things as they walk around the place.

As we search for the signs of various aspects of life, it is thus reasonable that it is precisely these life-surrounding things that appear before us. This is what happened to Rudi Mantofani, too. Without being completely aware of it, in fact we exist in a “culture of things”—and Rudi strengthens this tendency through his works.

It does not mean that Rudi wishes to avoid the matters of human beings and life. His effort to take on the world of things serves as an effort to seek a world of silence. The world of things is a silent one, because things cannot speak. It seems as if Rudi wishes to renounce the world of humans that have become too noisy, full of screams. Human beings have been having a central position in art representation, and even in the contemporary art of the 1990s in Indonesia. There are signs showing that such developments are entrapped within repetitions, forced desires, and mannerism. A lot of the works, therefore, are no longer meaningful. It is logical that such cacophony gives rise to a longing for a world that is still and silent.

In introducing the world of things, Rudi creates duplicates of things—duplicates of bananas or watermelons that appear similar to the real bananas and watermelons. These duplicates are different from the real things, as Rudi invariably makes imaginative changes—he, for example, creates bananas or watermelons that shine like metal. Rudi also uses things such as (real) guitars, washing boards, and dovetails. These things, however, have again been changed—the neck of the guitar, for example, is knotted as if it were made of strings, or the body of the guitar is folded as if it were elastic.

In the end, such changes incite visual sensations. They are an important part in understanding Rudi’s works. Rudi does not present the works to construct a story. The works he presents, therefore, are not metaphors, and they even cannot immediately be considered as representations. However, the changes that he makes start from his thoughts or comments on reality or life.

Rudi seems to conduct dialogues with the things that capture his interest. These things are like his close friends, who in such dialogues offer a myriad of possibilities of how to construct a commentary on life. The dialogues are not based on coherent and philosophical thoughts, but instead find their support in the playful tendency and unlimited imaginations.

In Rudi’s latest development we can also find paintings. Like the duplicate of things he makes, the paintings he creates resemble the original things and can thus be categorized as realistic paintings. In line with the changes he makes in the duplicates of things, his realistic paintings also show mutations, creating uncommon and even illogical realities.

Rudi does not present paintings of things. Most of his paintings are landscape paintings, which again do not present human beings. The landscape he makes is silent, still, and creates an impression of a world without humans. The visual enchantment in Rudi’s paintings, just like the charm of the duplicates of things he makes, lies in the mutations. He, for example, paints a lake in the middle of a forest, but the contour of the lake resembles that of a keyhole. He once painted a mountain in the shape of a house. Such changes make his paintings far from depiction of reality and these paintings cannot therefore be viewed as representations.

In my observation, Rudi’s paintings are not actually paintings but instead “duplicate of paintings”. This is a theoretical observation that might indeed be difficult to accept, as it is not easy to draw a line between a painting and a duplicate of painting. We cannot differentiate between the two, as both of them use the same materials and techniques. As I view Rudi’s tendency in creating duplicates of things, however, I can say this theoretical argument is not without a base.

When he makes duplicates of things, Rudi cannot avoid painting. This can be seen, for example, in his duplicates of watermelons and bananas. The watermelon skin and banana peels in these duplicates are created through the process painting. Using various techniques—not limited to the technique of realistic painting—Rudi tries to create the (duplicates of) watermelon skin and banana peels that are as close as the real things.

The theme of landscape that appear on the (duplicates of) paintings that Rudi creates, originates from his observation on the world of things, and based on his experience in confronting landscape paintings as an object. In Indonesia, the landscape paintings are ubiquitous. We can see them in luxurious and common houses, in eminent galleries and along the street. Landscape paintings have become a commodity and as they are displayed in the living rooms, they become an object like the couch.
To understand Rudi’s paintings as duplicate of things is important to comprehend the “game” he presents. All the problems he presents in the paintings would be totally misunderstood should we view these “paintings” as paintings. In that case, then, the depiction in his works would soon be read as, say, landscapes in naturalistic paintings, or as a representation of an experience, a memory of a landscape, or an expression in experiencing the beauty in the nature. All of these are not the base for Rudi’s paintings.

The question that arises then is: if we cannot immediately analyze the forms and depictions in Rudi’s works as representations, what is then the story or metaphors of meanings that we can grasp from those depictions and forms? I try to answer this question by using the thoughts of Ludwig Wittgenstein, in his theory about ‘the event of seeing’.

Wittgenstein’s aesthetic thoughts are often considered as out-of-date and even criticized in the contemporary art discourse. Some English critics, however, had used these thoughts to analyze the works of the British Avant-Garde contemporary artists, especially Damien Hirst, Simon Patterson, and Cornelia Parker.

In his theory, Wittgenstein questions the public belief about the event of seeing. Generally, the public believes that “to see” and “to think of” something are two separate events. In the beginning, someone sees something. Then, he or she releases the self from the event of seeing, and identifies what it is that he or she has seen, and after that the seer constructs an interpretation and thinks to find a meaning.

In this general belief, the event of seeing is merely a retinal phenomenon, as it is only a stepping-stone towards thoughts. The process of identification, constructing interpretation, and thinking—which take place after the event of seeing—are complex activities considered as residing on a higher level.

According to Wittgenstein, the separation between the event of seeing and the event of thinking causes the change in the perceived material. The object in the event of seeing is no longer the object in the event of thinking. Wittgenstein critically explains that the change in this perceived material makes the thinking no longer originate from the activity of seeing.

Wittgenstein then thinks that in the event of seeing, the activity of seeing and the activity of thinking should not be separated. The event of seeing, according to Wittgenstein, is an amalgam of the event of seeing and the event of thinking. The unification of these two activities creates an interaction that makes the event of seeing no longer presents merely one sight. There are thus changes in sight, but with no changes in the perceived material, as the object in the event of seeing is also the object in the event of thinking.

To explain this condition, Wittgenstein takes the example of the famous psychological test, using a sketch whose form simultaneously resembles a rabbit and a duck. In the same picture, someone sometimes sees a rabbit, and sometimes a duck.

According to Wittgenstein, the changes in sight takes place because in the event of seeing, someone will relate the seen object with the other objects surrounding it, as well as link the seen object with similar objects that the person has previously seen (in the experience of seeing).
Wittgenstein believes that the changes in sight in the event of seeing, makes someone find myriad of visual qualities that are previously unseen. This is an enrichment of the event of seeing, followed by the enrichment in the understanding of the activity of seeing.

In the event of seeing where the activity of seeing is separated from the activity of thinking, someone will only capture poor visual signs, as these visual signs merely function as a stepping stone toward thinking. The intensive activity of seeing, therefore, never takes place. Public belief about the event of seeing makes us ignorant about the richness of sight (Philosophical Investigation. Blackwell & Mott, 1958).

Rudi Mantofani’s works are works with the power to unify the activity of seeing and the activity of thinking. The highly ordered visual presentations introduce strong visual charms. Strangeness and anomaly are present because the changes that Rudi creates capture our attention, without offering stories that incite interpretations. Neither do the works serve as materials that lure us to thoughts. The possibility for Rudi’s works to serve as a stepping-stone toward thoughts is small.

The focus on the activity of seeing is due to the rich visual surprises offered in the works. To me, these surprises contain my attention in the activity of seeing and blockade my instinct to find meanings and construct interpretations.

Take his work that presents the duplicate of a banana. In the beginning, the viewer will arrive at a simple identification: “This is a banana.” The banana shows its greenish-yellow peel. This sight, however, did not stop at the simple identification of “this is a banana” that in itself is meaningless.

The size of the banana duplicate is a lot larger than the actual banana, and our sight will therefore not directly related with the process of identification. In such a floating condition, comes another visual surprise: the protruding banana flesh displays a metallic quality, although its texture is similar to that of a real banana. All these visual surprises force the viewer to compare his or her sight with the experience of seeing actual bananas.

The changes in sight also take place because Rudi has the tendency to present things amid an environment of things. There are things that occupy a central position, and there are things that exist in the surroundings.

Rudi combines these things so meticulously that these things seem to have logical relationships. When we analyze them closely, however, we can discern the clashes among those things, which take place due to illogical relationships. In some of Rudi’s works, the clash takes place between the duplicates and the real things.

This is apparent in his cucumber duplicate. The cucumber duplicate is the point of interest, and slashed so that the flesh can be seen. The surface of the slashed flesh offers a visual surprise as it appears flashy and carries the characteristic of stainless steel objects. The cucumber duplicate is held by an actual dovetail, which is in turn stuck on an actual wooden chair. The clash takes place between the cucumber duplicate and the real dovetail and wooden chair. Moreover, there are no logical relationships between the cucumber and the dovetail holding it.

So far, the activity of seeing as believed by Wittgenstein is still a subversion of the common activity of seeing. Therefore, Rudi’s works, which are able to bring viewers to this activity of seeing, can be said as having a subversive charm of sight. Due to their intrinsic quality, Rudi’s works are able to force viewers radically to activate the seeing subversion.

The charm of the subversive sight is today’s issue. Nicholas Mirzoeff in the book Visual Culture says that in today’s living, surrounded as we are by the regime of signs, the understanding based on the ‘textual thought’ is going toward the visual world, seeking a ‘visual thought’.

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