Rev/Action – Contemporary
Southeast Asian Art
Curated by Loredana
Pazzini-Paracciani for Sundaram Tagore Gallery, Manhattan, USA
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There would seem to be two
forces that will often tug on an artist from opposite directions. There
is the need for inner exploration of the conflicts and possibilities inherent
in individual humane development, and there is the tug from the world outside which
is filled with corruption, racism, injustice, intolerance, violence and
unresolved issues from the historical past. This show focuses on the tug from the outside world and history on Southeast
Asian artists as we see artists who seem to feel that their social conditions
are of such pressing concerns that the political has to trump the personal,
although the show also demonstrates personal development, engagement and
commitment as a means to gain greater peace and justice.
If one were interested in finding a contemporary example
of what Orwell called ‘doublethink’, the concept of ‘democratic reform’ as
embodied in Thailand’s People’s Democratic Reform Committee might fit the bill.
Democratic reform? Sounds nice. You might think it means making it easier for
the will of a majority of the people in a given society to be enacted. In
Thailand, however, it seems to mean that the last five democractically elected
governments were not able to complete their terms and a military junta now
rules the country. Oh, please don’t forget the kangaroo court that seems to be
persecuting the last fairly elected PM, Yingluck Shinawatra, and please,
please, please don’t forget the numerous innocent young people who have been
thrown in jail for expressing their displeasure over aspects of the Thai
system. Oh, that type of democratic
reform!
By the way, these sentiments about the Thai junta are
mine, exclusively, and do not necessarily reflect anyone else’s opinions,
except maybe the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights who pointed out: “In Thailand, which was
once a force for democracy in the ASEAN context, the military authorities
continue to silence opposition under martial law. More than 1,000 people have
been summoned or detained since the May 2014 coup, and many of them brought
before military courts.”
Montri
Toemsombat seems to reference Thailand’s love/hate relationship with democracy
in some of his Black Granite pieces. Among the images you see here is one piece
echoing a sign once carried by a protester stating that Thailand’s system of
democracy needs to be shaken well before using. Black granite was apparently
chosen because it is often the type of material used for tombstones and I’m
guessing the gold lettering represents a gilding process, where anything of any
quality can be covered with gold to look like gold, while not even
approximating gold. To me it represents the legitimizing process used by the
junta to destroy democracy and establish the type of government they, and not a
majority of the people, want to see.
Mit
Jai Inn, another Thai artist in this amazing show, has created pieces resembling
bolts of fabric. The current Thai flag is comprised of three colors: white for
the purity of Buddhism, blue for the monarchy and red for the people. In the bolts
of cloth represented in the current show, however, the color blue has changed
to green, representing the military. Indeed, many political observers have
pointed out the close relationship between the military and the monarchy and
there seems to be an effective feedback loop between them so that they both
seem to claim legitimacy from each other and both seem to help ensure the
other’s existence. The change to the color green in the flag, to me, indicates
that if the Thai military is going to destroy democracy and impose its will on
the people, they should take official credit for this feat.
Albert
Yonathan Setyawan is an Indonesian artist who created terra cotta stupas on
white marble sand in the form of a mandala. Stupas have a long history and the
Buddha, himself, requested that his remains be placed in a stupa at a
crossroads to remind people of the possibility of awakening and enlightenment.
Stupas can also hold the relics of Buddhist monks and nuns and are places of
reflection. This could be a work of intense process art requiring immense
self-discipline and resolve, yet there could be some political meaning as Pazzini-Paracciani points out, in her notes to the
show, this type of stupa arrangement also reflects a type of arrangement of
villages and small towns that existed before Indonesia was forced through
external pressures to develop economically.
I believe the artist could also be making a statement concerning
religious toleration as less than 1% of Indonesia’s population is Buddhist and,
although Indonesia used to be known as a place where religious toleration
flourished, Human Rights Watch has recently pointed out that Sunni Muslim
militants have recently been harassing other religious groups and even threatened
to blow up Borobudur religious complex. Apparently, the government has
responded to this threat to religious toleration inconsistently.
Norberto
Roldan is an artist in the Philippines who addresses issues of colonization and
identity. You may not know that Islam arrived in the Philippines well before
Magellan arrived with Christianity from Spain in the late 1500s. Islam first reached
the Philippines in the 1300s through traders from Malaysia and Indonesia. The
native inhabitants of the Philippines were apparently initially converted to
Islam and conflict between Muslims and Spanish Christians lasted into the 1800s,
before Spain finally gained ascendency and Filipinos converted en masse to
Christianity. When the US took over the Philippines, it too fought Muslim
resistance. Perhaps Roldan’s work points to how Philippine history and culture
was forever altered as it served as a battle ground between warring religious
ideologies and states. What is or might be left of indigenous Filipino thought,
religion or culture? How has the character of the Filipino people been affected
by the abuses to which they have been subjected over the generations? In the
piece pictured in this review we see a Muslim carpet over which are placed
crosses of wood and neon. The wooden crosses were salvaged from the homes of
common people, representing their acceptance of the religion, while the neon
crosses might represent the colonizing ideology and force of the cross in
general.
Kim
Hak is a Cambodian artist who presents photos of common items that are the
basis of survival stories from the time of the Khmer Rouge. For instance, the
pot shown with chicken feet has been in his family since the 70s and was
involved in the story of how his mother was once forced to steal a chicken to
feed his ailing father, but also how the father became so terrified by her act that
he could not eat the chicken.
Muhammad
“UCUP” Yusuf uses woodblock prints as part of his art-based protests (woodblock
prints have traditionally served as a means to spread revolutionary or socially
critical art). Chief among his concerns
are land expropriation and illegal development where Indonesia is seeing,
apparently, infrastructure development at the cost of rural communities.
Through his art he champions the cause of the rural inhabitants of Indonesia
who face the pressures of modernization and development.
Tran
Luong is a Vietnamese artist who is represented with a video piece involving a
red scarf. This video ‘Blink’ was inspired by a performance piece in which he
allowed the wind to continually whip him with a red scarf until his body began
to display little red welts. As this occurs, his body is contrasted with a
background of a placid blue sky. The piece seems to be about the potentially
negative effect of ideology and attempts to force change from without instead
of fostering greater and more humane inner development among a people.
Leang
Seckon was born in the year that Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger decided to secretly
bomb Cambodia (1970). He, consequently, lived through the civil war in which
Nixon attempted to engage in regime change and then the Khmer terror that
resulted as a counter-force to Nixon.
We often see a blending of traditional
Cambodian religious iconography and images of war showing that Cambodia has
struggled for an identity divorced from its role in ideological ‘sideshows’.
The piece called Bomb God seems to reference how both sides of the civil war
tried to tap into Cambodian history and tradition as justifications for
military force and inhuman actions.
Nge
Lay and her husband Aung Ko present a video and piece of sculpture which seem
to question the direction of Burma under the current military junta. Burma has long been one of the richest of
Asian countries in terms of natural resources, with the poorest people in the
world. It seems to me that the current reforms by the junta are smoke and
mirrors to draw international investment and further line the pockets of the
military. Lay’s video is of the Irrawaddy River – Burma’s longest river. The
notes to the show say that the waves and color represent the people’s memory
while shadows are Burma’s history.
A sculpture of a British colonial steamboat is
presented in conjunction to the video by Nge Lay’s husband, Aung Ko. To me this
signifies that Burma has gone from bad to worse and desperately needs to
reclaim its autonomy from foreign powers – when the British colonized the
country, at least the steamboat and its commerce were relatively benign. Now
the junta is teaming up with China to potentially damn portions of the river,
which will flood villages and displace rural inhabitants.
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