Whenever I visit a city, the smell of that city greets me first upon my arrival. The smell, together with its environment, prepares me to meet the city. My senses heighten regardless of my will.
On my taxi ride from Jakarta Airport to the hotel, I looked out into the cityscape. Mindlessly gazing at the view outside, I felt as if I was wandering back in time towards the past. I listened to a news report about the slums of Northern Jakarta. In Northern Jakarta, buildings of European architecture constructed under the Dutch colonial rule are kept in its original form. Most of these buildings are too old for people to reside in and are thus vacant or going through demolition. One could compare its atmosphere to Harlem in New York City. The Ciliwung River flows through this area and low, narrow houses are lined up at the riverbank. Three slums are formed next to the river, namely Kampung Tongkol, Kampung Krapu, and Kampung Lodan. Kampung is an Indonesian word referring to a village. At the time I was there, German artists were building a small shelter for the villagers of Kampung Tongkol. It was a project called Freizeit dan sejenis carried out by Chris Meighna, Markus Lohmann, David Rauer, and Christiane Dörken. For two weeks, these artists actually lived in the houses of Tongkol villagers and developed the project. The project was developed solely by the participating artists and the villagers. It was also the young generation in the village that took the role of the project coordinator and installation assistant. Participating artists explored the village together with them and envisioned what was needed for the villagers. Then, the artists shared their proposal with the villagers in the temporary village hall (in fact, a mosque for Muslims to pray) and took the time to listen to the opinions of all villagers and reflected them in the project. Members of different civic organizations could also participate in this process.
By the time the redevelopment plan of Jakarta City is finalized, this village will either disappear or will be replaced with new buildings. No one can guarantee when that will be. Likewise, it is not certain how much the artworks installed in these slums will empower the villagers or how far it can help. What is certain though is that the value and meaning of this project clearly exist among them because the project was decided and created together. Everyone is aware that they can cherish the outcome of the project. On the other hand, we are accustomed to public art projects organized and hosted by public institutions. It is critical to note that no dialogue takes place with the residents during the process of artists’ work proposal and installation. Only the project’s curator, administrators of the organizing institution, professionals from the operation committee, or members of the city council participate in the evaluation process. For whom and for what does public art exist? We often use the phrase ‘art seeps into life.’ However, I want to question myself and readers of this text what it actually means for art to seep into our lives and whether such is truly possible.
I cannot deny that the art I have experienced so far was meant for a particular class regardless of how much I stressed my role as a bridge as a curator. Similar to the rapid growth of the Korean economy, Korean contemporary art has constantly strived to resemble that of the West. It also succeeded in doing so. But what was this effort for? Perhaps it was for Korean artworks to be able to gain the commercial value to be presented in International art events, and perhaps by doing so, being able to stand on an equal footing with the West. Is the commoditization of artworks and the rise in their prices the ultimate goal of artists? I became skeptical of such realities of the Korean contemporary art world. I have come to question the principal question of “what is art?” and started Project 7½ with this question in mind. I am not trying to finger-point the problems of Korean contemporary art. Rather, I am trying to reflect on what we have missed over time. Until now, I was not aware that our life cannot be reduced to certain knowledge or language. On the contrary, I tried to understand life through knowledge and language. I have come to realize that art is not simply an object existing between people, but rather an entity that can resonate within our lives and gain its artistic value through this resonance. That’s how I have finally discovered my way forward as a curator.
There is only a difference of two days between the Independence Day of Korea and Indonesia; August 15 and August 17 of 1945 respectively. Korea has far exceeded Indonesia in terms of industrial and economic development. Korea no longer uses the title of a developing country. However, there must be innumerable values neglected in this process of rapid economic growth. In this regard, there are still opportunities open for Indonesia to choose a better way. While researching different areas of Indonesia currently facing urbanization, I came to question what a better choice could be. The research also made me reflect on what brought us to where we stand today within the small boundary of art. With this reflective gaze, I look back into the time that I have come through. I was able to ruminate on the past through my research in Indonesia. Based on these thoughts, I plan to embark on the project 7 1/2 in 2017.
December 5th, 2016 in Jakarta
Sunyoung Oh (Independent Curator)