The performance artist stepped cautiously amid the mirrors scattered around her feet, halting now and again, holding still.
Then she picked up one of the mirrors, raised it slowly to her face, which emanated anger, grudge and hatred. There seemed to be no way for her to vent to these emotions.
She repeated this move several times, then stood upright and remained motionless. There was a gust of wind amid the buzzing sound of mosquitoes.
The woman’s large body, indicating anguish and bitterness, again turned around, her black hair floating loose. Her eyes once again expressed anger.
Clad in black, she finally lay down with mirrors resting on her chest and abdomen, oblivious to the strong wind and annoying mosquitoes.
In this scene from Melati Suryodarmo’s Passionate Pilgrim in the Undisclosed Territory #5 Performance Art Event held at Padepokan Lemah Putih — an art center in Plesungan, Karanganyar, Surakarta — recently, the body functioned as the stage.
There was no dialogue, so the audience was free to interpret this work of art as a rebellion against fate or helplessness in the face of powerful groups.
Performance art indeed offers various interpretations and stimulates the imagination.
This annual program was initied by performance artist Melati Suryadarma and her German peer, Boris Nieslony.
“I was trying to enact the story of human trafficking. This is a very bitter experience for women,” said Melati following her show.
Like in previous years, the fifth event involved performance artists from different countries, including Marilyn Arsem (USA), Melati Suryodarmo (Indonesia/Germany), Yngmei Duan (China/Germany), Yuenjie Maru (Hongkong), Sandra Johston (Ireland), Boris Nieslony (Germany), Alan Schacher (Australia), Waldemar Tatarczuk (Poland), Ray Langenbach (USA/Malaysia), Aor Nopawan (Thailand), Angie Seah (Singapore), Afrizal Malna, Fitri Setyaningsih, Guh S Mana, Suprapto Suryodarmo, and Djarot B Darsono (Indonesia). Melati, Fitri Setyaningsih, Marilyn Arsem, and Boris Nieslony started their long-running performance art together (1–5 p.m.) on separate hillsides.
Fitri, playing the role of Buto Cakil — a giant enemy of Arjuna in the Mahabharata epic — was standing on wet grass drenched by rain from the previous night. Wearing the giant’s protruding jaw mask, the woman from Surakarta later rested on her knees on a blue sheet, walking while squatting and prodding kitchen knives into the fabric.
When she reached the tip of the sheet, she turned around and dragged the blue cloth, removing the knives. Hugging the folded fabric, Fitri began rolling slowly on the grass until she slid into a hollow part of the ground.
Yuenjie Maru’s performance was more extreme. For over two hours, the artist from Hongkong stood under a maja tree, continuously staring at the fruits above her. Two umbrellas hung beside the fruits. A few in the audience might have been wondering what kind of message she was conveying.
“Performance art is very personal, and involves personal expressions. So the messages perceived by the audience may be different from what the performer wishes to communicate. It’s OK. It’s the character of this performance,” said choreographer Mugiono Kasido of Yuenjie’s intense performance.
In the evening, Waldemar Tatarczuk strolled in the dark to collect gravel, bringing it back to the hall of Padepokan. The small stones were gathered into a mound. The Polish artist went out again to gather more stones, until his clothes were soaked and muddy from the incessant rain.
When the gravel mound was high enough, Waldemar started hurling the stones one by one out of the art studio.
Thereafter, he took off his shirt and used it to rub the wet and slightly muddy floor.
The water, mud and Valdemar’s rubbing on the floor left a message, which through the big mirror of the hall read jejak (tracks).
“Men will leave tracks. Whether good or bad tracks, we can never get rid of them,” explained Valdemar.
Guh S. Mana also played with the wet environment. While it was drizzling, the Surakarta artist attempted to finish 19 paintings on canvases with his feet.
With his soles smearing acrylic paint on the cloth, his toes adeptly applied the paint in meaningful strokes. His face, illuminated by oil lamps and torches, looked expressive.
His paintings, inspired by natural harmony, could not be completed because they were drenched.
“This exemplifies natural balance. There are dry and wet times. Men should be able to preserve natural harmony,” he pointed out.
Meanwhile, US peformance artist Marilyn Arsem spent five hours in a pile of dry teak leaves. She was surrounded by black threads sprawling down from a tree.
She picked a leaf, caressed and kissed it, feeling its texture with amazement before finally hanging it on a thread.
Again, her performance was devoid of dialogue. At the close of the performance, Marilyn only said the body should be in harmony with nature.
Nieslony and Sandra Johnstone performed together. The German and Irish artists stood in a small valley between thorny bushes and tree clumps, side by side and facing each other.
They moved in a meditative way for three hours. Unsurprisingly, the two closed their eyes for most of their act.
The themes conveyed in this event seemed meditative and contemplative, instead of presenting the body as a symbol.
“Undisclosed Teritory #5” was meant to build the audience’s imagination without dialogue.
“So far, art lovers have focused on an aspect of artistic presentation like theater, music and paintings. Performance art serves as a bridge so that the effect of their interaction is one of the aims of performance artists,” said art observer Halim HD.
Halim added that performance art was still quite new to Indonesia because it had only started growing in the 1990s in certain cities like Yogyakarta and Bandung, both centers of fine arts.
There aren’t many performance artists in Surakarta yet, possibly becaue the city’s fine arts are growing slowly. “Performance art is actually an extension of fine arts.”
