In New Solo Exhibition, Artist Octora Reflects on Violence and Human Nature
Jakarta. Amid unsettled cases of past atrocities and continuing cases of violence, contemporary artist Octora lays bare the shock she felt when researching the links between violence stirring our existence and human nature.
But instead of raw representations, Octora's works are of an aesthetic that at the same time elevates and pinches our senses, revealing a pain that pierces into the depths of the self.
Her fifth solo exhibition, “On the Edge of Awareness,” currently on show at Canna Gallery in Kelapa Gading, North Jakarta, comprises of nine works in a display that makes a notable mark.
That Octora has undertaken a thorough research and has reflected deeply on the readings on a period in history that some want to forget but others wish to settle adequately, is evident from the finely finished works and the well-chosen material used to bring out her views and the frailty of the human condition.
An excellent example is how Octora uses gauze bandages to sew kebaya as a metaphor of the victimized, while rendering the issue sublime by an utmost refined sensitive touch.
“Glorious Sadness” is one such work consisting of a kebaya placed on a mound of rice inside a glass box, hanging from a structure that appears like a guillotine but could also be a swing from a children's park. For Octora, the work refers to the insecurity and the fate of people whose existence depended on the whims of those in power — the victims of a period that still looms over the nation as an unfinished part of history.
Gauze bandage, generally used to wrap wounds, is a material that Octora successfully uses to reveal pain and frailty in the face of violence.
Surely an acrylic vitrine filled with hearts made of gauze bandages, with the images of victims queueing to be laid to rest thinly illustrated over the transparent acrylic, is a harrowing sight. The work’s title, “Istirahat Dalam Damai” (“Rest in Peace”) reinforces the mood of sad melancholy. To make each heart with gauze demands patience and nimble fingers.
“I made one every day,” reveals Octora.
As one climbs the stairs to the third floor in the gallery, still affected by what was on the lower floors, an installation titled “My Dear Gentlemen — Oh Insignia!” heightens the emotion to an almost boiling point.
Here, a row of uniforms made of what looks like transparent material, which in fact is iron mesh and brass complete with the signs of honor for perceived heroic deeds, personify the military powers. It is a cynical reference to the clashing meanings of protection. These uniforms represent the protection of the people, and the violence enacted in the name of it.
There is an old adage saying that clothes make the man, and perhaps it is very true in this case. On the other hand, the look of fragility exposed through the transparency of material belies the harshness of the material, just as protection may conceal inherent violence.
This installation makes me think of an earlier installation that Octora made some time ago. It consisted of rows of kebayas appearing as if made of fine stuff, but in fact created with iron mesh. While its context differs, it is basically about constructed identity.
For Octora, identity can be constructed by what you wear, having a behavioral impact. The clue, of course, will be how to get beyond or over such construction, bringing out your own self or “authenticity,” as Octora likes to call it.
On the same floor in a dim room, two red ceramic bowls placed on a table — one filled with water, the other with black rice grains — are infused with an air of drama. It is interesting that Octora should use this remnant of ritual from the Dayak people which emphasizes solidarity in times of trouble. She says that the ritual was heavily manipulated in efforts to quell the alleged Communist Party in that area.
One of the bowls bears the quote: “Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” It is a special warning to heed.
The installation “Kuburan Kata” (“Cemetery of Texts”) consisting of 65 ceramic panels is a fitting reminder. Each panel is imprinted with a word referring to that period in 1965 that is remembered as one of the most crushing episodes in the nation’s history.
But it is the hatstand titled “Corpus” that makes you shudder to the bone. It is not because of the simple farmer's hat called caping, or the typical peci or kopiah widely worn by Indonesians, hanging in the same row as the police cap. But it is the combination of those hats with the large slab of meat made of resin, dangling at the end of the hatstand, that affects the nerves in a way that pushes the memory of horror.
Octora is a graduate of the Faculty of Law of Parahyangan University and majored in Sculpture at the Faculty of Visual Art and Design of Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB). She was one of the award winners in the second edition of the prestigious Bandung Contemporary Art Awards in 2012.
“On the Edge of Awareness” continues through Nov. 7 at Canna Gallery, Jl. Boulevard Barat Raya Blok LC6, Kelapa Gading, North Jakarta. Phone: +62 21 452256
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