The current Minister of Tourism & Creative Economy of Indonesia is renowned as an effective public speaker and innovator. Mari Pangestu is widely recognized by the international media, serving in the Bulletin of Indonesian Economic Studies founded by the Indonesia Project of the Australian National University, the Board of External Editors of the Asian Journal of Business (University of Michigan) and also the co-coordinator of the Task Force on Poverty and Development for the United Nations Millennium Project. She obtained her Bachelors and Masters degree from the Australian National University, and her doctorate in Economics from University of California at Davis, United States. Whiteboard Journal had the opportunity to talk to Mari Pangestu about the future of Indonesia’s creative economy at the Goods Dept in Jakarta.

Hosted by: Leonard TheosabrataDirector of Photography: Heru Admadja

Editor: Ken Jenie

Thank You
Ministry of Tourism & Creative Economy
The Goods Dept.
Studio 1212

–

Ministry of Tourism and Creative Economy

Leonard Theosabrata

(Leonard Theosabrata Design)

W: Can you tell us your role in Brightspot Market?

Aside from being one of the co-founders, specifically I’m in charge of the interior, the concept, and also, basically the building process of the event itself, the production of the event. That’s my main focus.

W: Brightspot Market has always taken place in a mall, where the set-up is already available, how do you put things together?

One of the initial ideas was to utilize the underutilized spaces in the mall. Back then – two years ago – there was a lot of empty lots in the mall, all over it. I mean we’re not just talking about newly opened mall, but it’s also the existing mall, the established mall, they have like [a lot of spaces], just oversupplied, and we kind of captured that opportunity, I felt like, “Okay, they offered us space and they wanted us to throw an event,” ‘event’ back then means ‘bazaar’, you know, all this kind of thingw, so we didn’t want to make just another ‘bazaar’, so that’s why we came up with the market concept. Basically, the idea is  to utilize the empty lots and then make it into a temporary retail event market that can generate retail activity and also, be considered a cultural activity, but it’s not just about shopping, actually, it’s more than that.

W: How do you take the reference of the design then?

Mainly, it was just function-based, we looked at it, like, “Okay, empty lots, there’s nothing. The floor’s messed up, the wall’s messed up, no AC, or maybe yes, there’s AC, but we have to do something,” I mean whatever necessary to bring the space to the requirement that we need, we will do, and the rest is just like assigning the lots and build up the… I mean the look has to fit the market, which is by now you can call it the Brightspot Market, the Brightspot generation, or whatever. And at the time we look the references [from], for example, Bread & Butter, and some other events in America, they do these temporary events that are very much industrial, not much decoration, but you have to pay attention a lot on the layout, the flow, and the organizing part of it, and also the essence, so we pay attention to the essence and none of the embellishment, so it’s just purely function, function that meets the requirement of the market.

A lot of people, they do events and they’re like, “Oh, we gotta do the ‘wow’ factor, this and that,”. We don’t do that kind of thing, none of that – I mean yes, we do it in our way, which is we pay more attention to the basic things. For example, even to the business concept of it, we set to accommodate, for example, affordable prices from the beginning so that these new entrepreneurs and businesses can afford it, instead of like having all this establish concept going into our new concept, it doesn’t work, so we want new concept in our new concept, and for that you have to sacrifice, you have to sell at a very affordable price; in the beginning it was like two million [rupiahs] or something, now it’s like eight, because it’s growing. But we invest in our brand equity, we invest in our tenants, I mean we give them the opportunity in the beginning, we didn’t make money.

W: At Brightspot Market, the tenants do creative things with design, they give full retail experience, but it’s only applicable and successful at Brightspot, so do you think they can do that independently?

I think a lot of the brands is using Brightspot as a launching fest, either they want to release their new collection or it’s their first time to release anything, I think they like Brightspot as a launching fest. It also gives them a different, like a unique retail experience because they’re dealing with a certain market that came, but there’s also other kind of people – that’s why we do it in a mall, so it will not generate only segmented market, because Indonesia, as we know, has a really huge market, so in terms of applying it from Brightspot to conventional retail, I think there’s a lot of changes needs to be done, they cannot literally go like, “I’m successful in Brightspot, I think I have the confidence to open my shop now,” well, Brightspot is a 4-day shopping frenzy, it’s full of energy, I mean in real retail, just like when we opened The Goods Dept for example, we really think about that, like, “Okay, how do we change the excitement from Brightspot and transfer that into a permanent retail that opens everyday?” How do you translate that? I mean that’s very important, the way you do it is gonna determine the success of your concept. If you just think, “I can sell this much at Brightspot,” well, yeah, it’s forty-something thousand people in four days, I mean how much is the average traffic in a mall? You have to be careful about that, don’t be complacent and then you’re like, “I’m ready to open a shop.” You have to really access every market, every location is different, every set-up is different, so retail is very complicated, but it’s a good barometer for them to see whether or not people are interested in their products.

W: Brighspot Market has always been held in malls, do you think about bringing Brightspot into a different location, like outdoor spaces?

We’d love to, but depends on the cost of building up. It’s gonna be more expensive. And I think it’s bullshit when Indonesian people say it’s okay to be in outdoor – no, they like AC, man, they like to be inside, in the car or in the mall, like, no way, man, we love our AC (laughs). I don’t think it’s going to be successful if it’s outdoor. Just that, plain and simple. We, as Brightspot, are not confident enough to go outside mall – for obvious reasons: parking, convenience of others, facilities that will support the event. I mean the tendency of Brightspot visitors is that they go into ours, they go out and eat, and maybe the even like wait for hang out in some other cafe, and then they come back again with their friends, and they go out again, they do something, and then come back again. So, if it’s just Brightspot, that whole circle won’t happen, the circle will be different, so I think it’s good to be in a mall, and we’re always gonna try to be in a mall, if they permit us. The problem is we’re growing all the time, the next one is gonna be 3000 m2, huge.

Strange feelings emerged that evening when we arrived at Abdullah Harahap’s abode in Bandung. A large, emerald-green-colored relief of a woman with devil’s wings glanced at us at the porch. There we stood still, somehow feeling uneasy with the woman’s glance… until Pak Abdullah showed up and let us in.

For those who grew up in Indonesia during the 70’s to the early 90’s, the name Abdullah Harahap on the cover of a book (usually illustrated with hand-drawn images of women in provocative poses and creepy-looking creatures) is a guarantee to some scary good time. Undoubtedly the most prolific horror writer in Indonesia, Abdullah has written more than 80 titles of horror novels as well as scripts for movies and TV.

After years of hiatus from writing novels, in 2010, Abdullah and his chilling creatures returned to greet us the living—his books, long regarded as ‘pulp fiction’—is now published by an imprint of Indonesia’s top literary publisher.At 68, Pak Abdullah’s alive and well and updated about the goings-on in today’s world. We spent an entire evening conversing about almost everything in the realm of the living over clove cigarettes and cups of strong, dark roast coffee.

W: You started  working as a journalist for 30 years, how did you cope with the transition from being a journalist into a writer for stuff such as Romance?

Actually, since high school I started writing short stories, when I became a student in university, I fell hard into the novels. Since I became a journalist, I got involved with reporting about crimes and local issues because I was working with the Crime and Government section; I took that as an advantage to write my novels. I got the chance to get to know new people,
different personalities, lots of cases… and as a Journalist I tried to write as most of my Journalist friends do, which was to only write about the surface of the content. Do you know what I mean? Writing embodies and wraps up what happens in a current situation. Personally, I like to dig up what’s really in that certain situation. Due to that habit, I encountered many issues. For example, there is a raw story and it’s events – from that source I probably use around 10-20% of its content. The rest of it is imagination. Due to that, I wrote about romance, but most importantly, Mystery.

So back then, I was known more as a writer of romance, in fact, every time my friends come up to me, they usually joke “are you still writing pornography?” There are some positives from time I was a romance writer, but most of the time it isn’t positive. In fact, it was an issue for the magazine staff. But one day H. B Jassin, may he rest in peace, defended me. He argued that without that [pornographic] part of the story, the whole storyline will have no meaning behind it. So the perspective of sex is very important, it defines a charachter’s personality and cause. So in H. B Jassin’s wise words, if you throw that part away, the character will lose it’s existence. So at the end the story got published, as, how can I say, A pornographic-type story.

If you want to know why I wrote in that category, well around 67’-68’ I was a student at IKIP Bandung or UPI. Anyways, at that time a deaf woman died in the middle of a lake. A lake in the middle of a paddy field, she was found with her newborn baby, who was also dead. So the story behind it was that she was around her village for months, but no one knew that she was pregnant. But, when she died the local police were busy looking for the suspect who killed her. But the police couldn’t find anyone or anything. How could a human being sexually harass a homeless, innocent woman? That formed a sort of anger in me and that infuriated frustration led me into writing [Horror and Mystery] stories.

I took that story into a novel, titled “Dikejar Dosa” (Chased by Sins), and the story got into Stop Magazine. I took around 10-20% of the event’s content, and it was reported by Stop Magazine, it wasn’t finished yet when it happened but they wanted to continue it later until Wim Umboh, may he rest in peace, bought my story and fitted it into a film, which turned out to be successful in Indonesia’s modern Horror film market. So when you think about it, the story wasn’t finished yet, but somehow producers bought it, made it into a film and turned out successful.  That’s how it all happened.

W: So, as you explained, the facts within your story is around 10% of the piece, and the rest is imagination. May I ask, are there any other similar experiences like that one? A supernatural event maybe?

In my view, supernatural events are from imagination. As a Muslim, I believe that satan exists, but I don’t believe that ghosts exist. There’s a big difference between satan and ghosts. I believe that satan is god’s creation according to the holy book, but ghosts are just human imagination, a product of fear. So I utilize the emotion of fear within my work.

W: When we talk about reference, are there any local or international influences within your work about horror?

I like to read international novels, such as Stephen King, but only as a comparison; who they are, their strengths and weaknesses etc. They all have weaknesses but I pay attention more to their strengths. But I tend not to be too influenced by their work. I was brought up by a traditional culture and I have an Indonesian philosophy, so I tend to be independent when it comes to influences.

W: In your opinion, is fear a culture?

Fear is a human sense. What I mean by culture are the events and legends, for example, in Western Java there is the Kuntilanak, in Bali there’s the Leak, and in Sumatra there is so on.That’s the culture, fear is the psychological product.

While appearing as  a non-conformist, our meeting with the man changed our perspective greatly as he warmly invited us to a humble dinner he was having with a few photographers and close associates before our Interview. We were told that most his students and peers idolizes and give him title as an esteemed photographer in Indonesia – to which he scornfully denies –  and when conversing with him, you couldn’t help but agree and be immersed to the depths of conservation and be swayed by the determination he holds for Indonesia, photography, and one’s right for freedom.

W: We read that you taught yourself photography, how did you get into photography and what initially drew your interest?

I taught myself because of my profession as a reporter. I became a reporter after I graduated from college, where I took a course in Antara News Agency, so my initial thought then when I finished that I would be a reporter. I joined in the year 1988,  it was only after two years as a reporter that in 1990 I moved to the photography division – where I had no background in – but I had the basic journalistic skills, so that is when I learned photography.

W: Were you were always interested in Journalism?

I never had an interested in Journalism, my only thought was I needed to work after I graduated and I took the chance to work anywhere. So I worked in Antara News Agency, where I took a course for a year and first became a sports reporter, then I started reporting different subjects. That is where I got my journalistic experience. My bosses had a plan to have people of my batch to continue photojournalism because a few of my seniors were retiring and the generation after it were not adapt for photojournalism.

So they appointed me, I wasn’t so pleased at first because I had no prior experience nor background in photography, but I still thought of it as an interesting offer, so with my background in writing/reporting, I was taught photography by my seniors and meeting fellow photojournalist on the field, asking technical tips on how to properly use the equipment. Eventually I found it interesting and thought about reporting from a visual perspective.

W: Seeing your photography work now, I noticed that many elements of your work depict sorrow and tragedy. Is that the way you see the world or is there an underlying message behind it?

The work that you’re mentioning is more of the personal works that I’ve been doing recently. I didn’t focus on detail before, because everyday I am on the field, where I would be taking shots of various objects or subjects for reporting purposes. Personally, I have always been attracted to something that is mysterious, something that has not been proven by science. When someone dies, they will never return to share his/her experience [of dying] right? So we can only question it. Death is an inevitable occurrence in our lives, I played around with that idea. I do this every time I finish reporting, where I spare the time afterward to take personal photographs that interest me.

Actually the exhibition in Amsterdam was a continuation of the photography exhibition held in Salihara Gallery. The exhibition titled “Soul Scape Road” is a part of a trilogy that I made about death. There was the“Art of Dying”, which came after “Nyanyian Peripheral”, before was “Suara dari Angkor”. “Suara dari Angkor” was my first exhibition shot in Siem Reap, and was exhibited in CCF, Jakarta. I chose artefacts because I felt the close relation to the political situation in Indonesia, when I was working on “Suara dari Angkor” there was already an anti-Soeharto protest going on and people started grow tiresome of the government -a similar view to what was happening to Middle East at that time.

From my personal point of view, what happened to Indonesia was similar to the history of Khmer Kingdom and the history of the Kingdoms during Borobudur’s reign. So I tried to take part of the history of Hindu Buddha in Central Java and relate it to the history of what occurred in Jakarta, so “Suara dari Angkor” wasn’t only about Angkor, but it was related to the condition we faced everyday when President Soeharto exclaimed “Indonesia negara bahari!”. What I mean is, during that time, history was history, and you can’t idolize history, the future is meant to be filled by the next generation, to progress for people who live in the present. And I feel Siem Reap’s history is very similar to ours. They have always refered to the past until the Kingdom collapsed and I thought Indonesia was heading the same direction. Next was “Carnaval”. “Carnaval” resulted after Indonesia’s reformation, the title chosen after Soeharto’s fall. Ending with “The Art of Dying”, the work based on graveyards in France and is this sort of reflection of the post-reformation politics. Perhaps people do not have the same view as I, but the work itself is a platform to build discussion.

W: So it is more of an observation. How do you relate it to the Soul Scape Road Exhibition, didn’t that capture the lumpur lapindo events and the calamity in Merapi?

Yes, it was a personal observation that I did in Black and White, “Soul Scape Road” is actually a compilation of all the exhibitions above, highlighting the catastrophe that occurred in Indonesia and how the events were reflected. When I am reporting, I would capture images as a witness to tell people “This is what happened in point A”, for “Soul Scape Road” I captured the shots personally, so the images are my personal reflections of the news. Usually, the images are purely landscapes and objects, if there are people in it, their role in the picture is minor. My objective in exhibiting these images is to incite from viewers a feeling of ‘appreciating life’ from imagining themselves in that situation. That is rough idea behind it.

W: From the entire exhibition that you have made, can we say that it extends your disappointment and sadness of what is happening in Indonesia?

I wouldn’t say that, if you looked at the subject it may appear pessimistic, but I myself am not a pessimist. I always observe things from and an angle where I look for a solution. If we see things that are already beautiful it is already the solution in its imagery so I prefer to look elsewhere. It’s a process of digging deeper, before you talk about a plan see the negative consequences of it. My work, as you said earlier, is a depiction of what is currently happening. The fact is after our independence all people no matter the differences were supposed to be equals, but during Soeharto’s regime he was uniforming everyone. And now during this post-reformation era certain groups want us to adhere to the same agenda and point of views, and I don’t agree with that. So I express that opinion through my work, and the symbol that represent it is death.

His contemplative nature and literary adeptness has pushed him to compile his travel stories in a publication called ‘Selimut Debu’ in 2010, and ‘Garis Batas’ recently in 2011.

Whiteboard Journal had a chance to learn more of his purpose of travels and the turnings points that have defined him as a word traveler.

W: How did everything start? What initially drew you to be so engulfed in traveling?

Everything started from childhood, when my dad introduced me to philately. I collected stamps from almost all countries, and stamps were my “window” to the world. I always dreamed to visit the countries of which stamps I have collected. I also loved geography, wanted to learn different languages and cultures. As I was raised in a small town, everything seemed just merely a dream. But then when the chance came, I went to Beijing as a student, and I saw how my fellow students from Japan wandered around the world independently, I just knew the meaning of “backpacker”. I made my first journey in 2002, to Mongolia, where the travel was really adventurous, and that made me really fond of the taste of adventures in travel.

W: Your travel destinations are not conventional to say the least, is there a reason behind your choices of travel?

I started my journey in Mongolia, where in my first and second day consecutively I was robbed and mugged. This experience is kind of near-to-death experience just exactly on my first day of traveling. This made an impression in my mind that the taste of adventures is important. The second year after the trip in Mongolia, I went to Pakistan and Afghanistan, and enjoyed every single step in those countries. But now after traveling for several years, I understand that destination does not really matter. The most important is how your eyes observe and how your heart learns.

W: What do you look for the most in your travels?

In the beginning, I was searching for myself. Until a point that I found, there is no point of searching ourselves, because it’s always together with us. Now when I travel I try to “lose” myself, being totally open to learn what the people, the culture, the history, the world teaches us. From their life experience we can make a  reflection of our own life. We can learn from other people’s success and failures and learn from their wisdom. I think this is the meaning of life, because life itself is a journey.

W: Amongst your quest to conquer a new territory, you ended up staying in Afghanistan the longest, what formed this attachment?

I don’t regard travel as a “journey to conquer”, it’s not matter of conquer because we as human being is indeed nobody in front of the world. I stayed in Afghanistan because I love the country, the people, and the nature. Afghanistan is like a Pandora box for me. Everything is full of surprise. Of course, there is war and poverty. But besides of that dusty color of Afghanistan, there are so many beautiful colors in the country. And that’s the reason of the love.

Borders is something to engulf an identity, a difference, something that people can be proud of, and something that people can find their safety zone . In my childhood, I experienced racial discrimination, so the borderlines lied between minority and majority. When I was a student in China, the borderlines lied between the locals (Chinese) and foreigners (including me), which emphasized my Indonesian-ness. When I was living in Pakistan or Afghanistan, the borderlines was between Muslims and non-Muslims. These are just few examples how borderlines can be relative. But after crossing different borderlines, experiencing life at different sides of the borders, the meaning of identity and borderlines itself also changed. Now for me, the universal identity which united all human beings on earth is “humanity”, as we all have something in common as human being, with our dreams and struggles. By having this as our new borderlines, our world would be much wider and universal.

W: Do you think those borders are important? Or would you prefer that we could live as one without these differences?

Yes, borderlines are important, and that’s the nature of human being. With borderlines, we have varied and colorful life. We have diversities and differences, and we have pride. Life without borderlines would be scary, it reminded me to 1984 by George Orwell, where a utopia (or dystopia) means creating a gigantic nation with common enemy, same ideology, same thinking, same values, etc. It’s daunting and inhumane.

Borderlines engulf identity, and identity brings pride. A man without identity, without pride, is a blank man. If I can put it this way, identity and pride is like your financial wealth. You don’t need it all the time, nor need to show it every second, but when you need it, you have it. The point here is, borderlines are always there, but the reality now is how artificial borders (including artificial nationalism, fanaticism, etc) then made a certain group of people feel like they the rights to disregard, attack, or even kill others outside their boundaries.

W: After assimilating in different cultures, has this changed your perception of your own country, Indonesia?

Yes, so much. In Indonesia I used to learn that our nation is the most respected country in the world, being praised for its wealth and hospitality of its people. But when I traveled and lived in different countries and cultures, I felt that this claim is arguable. Moreover, I understood the fact that Indonesia is similar to many Asian countries, building our nation and nationalism from the relics of colonization. Our country’s boundaries were the result of creation of Western powers, thousands of miles away. There are many myths created, and we believe them for granted. But, surprisingly some of these myths were very successful to unite Indonesia and becoming our national identity.

i

i

iContinue to the second page.

Whiteboard Journal had a chance to interview the man behind the work, discussing his collaboration with Indonesian photographer, Oscar Motulah, to his objective in raising the theme of Chinese communities in Southeast Asia.

W: Congratulations on the recent launch of the book ‘Chinese Muslim in Indonesia’, Chinese Muslims are considered a minority group in Indonesia, what drew you to raise this theme?

As a photographer, I always try to challenge myself. By 2007, I had more or less decided to do an in-depth work that would take several years. I had always wanted to do something in Indonesia. But I needed a specific topic. The Chinese in West Kalimantan intrigued me. But I had also heard about the Chinese Muslims in Indonesia. In the end, when several people stepped forward to help me get in touch with the community leaders, I decided to go along with it.

W: In Indonesia, Chinese and Islam seem to be paradoxical stereotypes, how has the general public responded to the book (Chinese Muslim in Indonesia) so far?

In terms of sales, the response has been encouraging. When I exhibited the work at Galeri CCCL Surabaya in 2008, there was quite a bit of coverage. The idea that Chinese can be Muslims is paradoxical to Indonesians, pribumi or otherwise, partly because of the colonial policies, which segregated the Chinese from the pribumi. The governments of Sukarno and Suharto perpetuated some of these policies. The arrival of non-Muslim Totoks in the last century further obscured the fact that Chinese conversion to Islam is nothing new. Let’s not forget, the oldest surviving mosque in China is the Huaisheng Mosque in Guangzhou. It is over 1,300 years old.

W: Going through your blog, we understand that your interest in photography and research undertakes the Chinese communities in Southeast Asia, could you tell us what you are trying to achieve in this regard?

I’m not trying to achieve anything. I know my strengths and weaknesses. I will never be a famous photographer because I don’t have the ability to sell or market myself. And I won’t make a lot of money with this kind of work. But if I’m prepared to spend years pursuing my photographic practice, it has to involve something that I’m fascinated and obsessed with. This is why I’m drawn to the Chinese communities in Southeast Asia. As a Singaporean brought up in a Mandarin-speaking family, there are things that I pick up quite naturally when I’m in these Chinese communities. I’m an insider but I’m also an outsider, since the tendency to assimilate is ever present among the Chinese in Southeast Asia.

W: What fascinating encounters have you gathered from the observation of Chinese communities in Southeast Asia. Is there a common thread that links these Chinese communities in the different nations?

These are broad questions that cannot be easily answered. People like Prof. Claudine Salmon or Prof. Charles Coppel spend half their lives writing about the Chinese. And in both cases, they are known primarily as experts on the Indonesian Chinese. When we consider the fact that Indonesian Chinese account for only 1.06 percent of the country’s population, we realize that your questions, even if we limit them to Indonesia, are extremely hard to answer. In fact, I always reference the plurality of the Indonesian Chinese with the word ‘communities’. It is inaccurate to see the Indonesian Chinese as one homogenous ‘community’.

If we examine the Indonesian Chinese, we will see that their identities are informed by many things: place of residence (rural vs. urban; Java, Sumatra, Madura, Kalimantan etc; areas with significant Chinese presence vs. areas with very little Chinese presence), education (level of education; local vs. overseas; late colonial era vs. independence era), religion (religiosity; which religion), occupation (employee vs. employer), economic status, Totok vs. Peranakan, language (Dutch, English, Bahasa Indonesia, majority language of the place of residence (Balinese; Sundanese, Madurese, Javanese etc), Mandarin, Chinese dialect), affinity with “Chinese” culture (how close they are—or feel they are—with “Chinese” culture, bearing in mind that the idea of “Chinese” culture, like “Indonesian” culture, is imagined and always fluid) etc. The list goes on and on. And the permutations divide them further.

That’s why I caution against making sweeping statements. Some people like to say: “Indonesian Chinese are exclusive and they don’t mingle.” But that statement is as uninformed as saying: “Pribumi are lazy.”

For years, Edward Said spoke against those American writers who describe the Middle East as an area full of indistinguishable Islamists, when it is in fact a region of diverse religions, languages and ethnicities. These writers are no different from the people who make those aforementioned statements.

During the Ming Dynasty, for instance, there were Javanese, Malays, Arabs, Indians, Bugis, Chinese, British, Spanish and Dutch living in the cosmopolitan cities along the pasisir in Java. Southeast Asia has long been globalized, even before the term “globalization” is invented. As members of these cosmopolitan cities, the experiences of these Chinese were no different from the other communities. They brought their distinctive cultures and assimilated.This is the picture we get when we study the Chinese Muslim communities in Indonesia during the early colonial era.Across Southeast Asia, this fusion of cultures can be seen in wayang, traditional crafts, foods and architecture. For someone like me who speaks very little Bahasa, I can easily understand the names of various food ingredients in Indonesia because these Bahasa terms are in fact Hokkien in origin. Prof. Salmon has written about the loan words that Bahasa Indonesia has borrowed from Chinese dialects over the centuries. In Thailand, the pronunciation of numbers sounds almost like Teochew, the majority dialect of the Thai Chinese. Even without any knowledge of Thai, I picked up the numbers within a few minutes when I first visited Bangkok many years back.

Within Southeast Asia, elements of Chinese cultures have been localized over the centuries, until it is no longer productive to say what is local or what is Chinese. Unfortunately, in Indonesia, there has been a political will, since the 18th century, to demarcate and segregate the Chinese and the pribumi. But in Cambodia, where the Chinese have rarely been prosecuted specifically, we can see how Chinese culture has been localized by Khmer culture. Altars dedicated to various “Chinese” deities can be easily found in Khmer homes. During the annual Chinese New Year procession in Phnom Penh, the Khmers can also be seen receiving the blessings from the mediums.

I think this is the recurring theme. We can locate the experiences of the Chinese in Southeast Asia between the polarity of assimilation and their “Chineseness”. It is not one or the other. Almost always, it is located along the spectrum and is further differentiated by the factors that I have raised concerning the Indonesian Chinese: education, language, religion etc.

As a third-generation Hokkien Chinese born in Singapore, there are elements that I find familiar and alien in the Chinatowns across Southeast Asia. I’m sure the feeling is quite common among Chinese travellers whenever they visit other Chinatowns. Similarly, a Malaysian Malay will feel the same way when she or he visits Palembang, for instance.

As a photographer, I’m drawn to this conflicting sense of familiarity and alienation. But I have very little interest to play out that tension by juxtaposing, for instance, red lanterns against a statue of Colonel Sanders. This is too cliché. I prefer to dig, to look at the nuances of the Chinese experiences. Unfortunately, such images are not always literal or exotic enough for editors, curators and some viewers.

By itself, photography cannot articulate these nuances. In one of the photographs that I made in 2008 at Pancoran, Jakarta, a pribumi man is seen against a poster advertising a new Bahasa magazine titled Chinatown. This is not a strong image. But there is this juxtaposition, which is obvious enough. Some people found the image intriguing. I wonder if they felt a sense of injustice, since the Chinese in Jakarta had, not long ago, been targeted during the 1998 riots by, presumably, the pribumi. But some of the Chinese residents at Petak Sembilan, Pancoran, also recalled how the pribumi who lived beside them had defended the area and prevented it from being looted.

I didn’t get the chance to speak to the man whom I photographed. And I wonder what he did in 1998. Perhaps for some, that photograph reinforces the perception that pits the pribumi against the Chinese. I’m not pretending that nothing happened in 1998. But how does pitting one community against the other help in our understanding of the malaise in 1998? This is why I feel that photography can sometimes be quite limiting. Words are important.

At that time, I also befriended Madam Lim, a second-generation resident of Petak Sembilan and an avid follower of the Beijing Olympics on cable TV. She was obviously proud that China could host the worldwide sporting event. But she also spoke without a hint of irony about her anger with the China government for refusing to act during the 1998 riots. There is something poignant about that conversation but I have no means of translating it into a photograph. Perhaps in this sense, I am a failed photographer.

“We love for our readers to not only appreciate the art that inspire them but also to get to know the minds and hearts behind the work. We fell in love with your work in general and are especially curious of your recent work in New York. Please share your creative process with our readers and tell us a bit about your intimate exhibition. Let’s get to know you better first.”

W: How did everything start? How did you get into the world of art?

I have a strong background in communication design. I obtained my formal education at Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB) and have worked in the field as a graphic designer. I founded a graphic design company in Jakarta. After 10 years, I realized that although I was passionate about it, I had difficulties finding my soul there. I knew for a fact, my soul was not in graphic design. I still painted as a hobby. Becoming a full time artist was not a short path; rather, it was a long journey. In 1993, I received an offer to join an exhibition—an offer I could not refuse. I have gained exposure and collectors purchased my artworks. It nurtured my self-confidence as an artist. I was able to show my full potential and my involvement as well as my interest in exhibitions became more apparent.

W: Who were some of the intellectuals, artist and/or projects that inspired you to pursue this career?

It started sometime during my graphic design training at school. I was surrounded by art and hung around individuals who were in visual art. I was always seeking new and old art books and was an avid collector of these rare finds. In fact, I owned a lot of books, however, none of them were graphic design related. I graduated from ITB in 1978. I remember reading a lot of books from 1976. I was a member of the library, which highly influenced my thought process and critical thinking. Through reading, I was exposed a lot to European visual arts and was particularly interested in German Expressionism.

W: From where do you uncork your inspiration?

My inspiration comes from multiple sources. In the beginning stages of my career, everything was very personal. All my explorations revolved around religion, sociopolitical themes and humanitarian work. I am very attached to my work.

W: What is the creative process behind your work? Do you base them on your previous drawings, prototypes, or is it all about work in site?

The initial idea can come from brief writings, notes or rudimentary sketches. I have a lot of work that are come from appropriation of other works that are then developed further. I come back to old ideas and focus on them again. I love the idea of finishing a concept and bringing it into completion. My self-portrait project, for example is an on-going investigation. I stopped exploring the idea in 2005 and I let it sit for quite some time while I moved on to other things. It could be anything, anywhere, at any given time.

W: Have you always approached your ideas this way?

It is quite ironic actually. I used to be so bold and fearless when it comes to experimenting. Prior to my formal education in graphic design, I used to make my own fonts. Typography was a part of my daily life as a high school student. When I entered university, I became afraid of changing things or experimenting ideas. I felt as if I had lost my courage and was hindered to explore. Nevertheless, it is my very nature that if things became uncomfortable and cause more anxiety, I will fight it and over come my fear. I always rebel and push myself forward.

W: Your work seems to have an eclectic amalgamation of history, memory and self-manipulation; can you explain the importance and influence of that within your art?

From the information that surrounds my daily life, I am able to see and read things meticulously. I have my own perception; hence, I want to react in my own way. Creating or producing artwork resembles therapy. In a more universal and spiritual approach, reflecting on the very essence of my personal issues gives way to self-therapy. I analyze things through self-introspection. I know that at the end of the day, I will apply everything I learn back to myself.

W: How does cultural context influence your work?

I don’t really think towards that direction. Aside from living and working in the country, being born in Indonesia definitely influences my life as an artist. In my opinion, identity is not so much an important influence. I believe more of that as an unconscious methodology. I don’t think you or I need to confirm per se, but definitely I have Indonesian culture and influences present in my work. Even so, it is more or less indirect because I express things through symbolism and layering. Nothing is homogeneous and no ornament refers directly to such issues.

W: Why is the brand called Cotton Ink?

C: So back in November 2008, I was jobless and Ria was finishing her school, and we wanted to make a brand that is very common that everybody can accept, at the first time we made a T-shirt made of cotton, and since it had prints on it, we thought ok, let’s call it Cotton Ink, (Cotton and Ink). And right now, we have so many ranges of colors; so (the name) literally represent our products.

R: So it was very spontaneous.

W: What is both your background?

R: I went to Paramadina University, basically I’m a graphic designer but I never wanted to work in advertising or anything related to that, after I graduated I went to London to take a short course in London College of Fashion.

C: She took fashion business.

C: I’m actually from a fashion design background. I graduated from Lasalle College of Fashion here (Jakarta); it’s a two-year program. Before that I didn’t know what to do so I took business school in Malaysia, called Taylors College, but then I went back because I really didn’t get it, I know business is cool but I really didn’t get it. So I went back. it’s better than doing something wrong and spending more than 3 years to do it and Lasalle College was opening the shortest enrollment so..here we are.

W: What is both your role in Cotton Ink? What is your basis on making a decision?

C: I’m more in charge towards the design role, I’m more like the creative director, branding itself, Ria is more into the accessory line, we are having more range of products, so she’s in charge in that but she’s also in charge of styling and more into merchandising and stocks and much more in an operational way but she also helps me in the creative process. It’s not like I’m the creative one and she’s the operational one, I’m also helping her if there are any problems/issues.

About the decision-making we also make it together, we talk, we fight..cat fight.

W: For the branding strategy, did you think about it from the start or was it a trial and error process?

R: From the very beginning we didn’t make a big plan that we’re going to do it online or have a (physical) store. At the first time it really is spontaneous. We thought of it in a very simple way to sell our products.

C: Maybe cost effective, because we don’t like making a huge company, so we started little by little..and at some point we thought either we become serious about this or we take another job. So the decision was it was going to be serious, what is our benchmark or our competitor? Because Ria also has some knowledge of the fashion business, and even though I was only in Taylors College for 6 months, its actually helping because I met so many people there and discuss about business and my brother  has more knowledge than me in branding. Because I know that branding is the most important thing, The branding has to be very strong because in the end of the day, people do not look at the clothes anymore. It is spontaneous but we fixed it along the way.

W: You started out by selling your trademark scarf/shawl on a blog medium, and your items sells out very fast by seldom restocking, was this a happy accident? Or part of a business strategy?

C: It’s actually both, at the first time, Ria was working as a piano teacher, at that point, and I was working in another company, so that we didn’t have much time to do any planning, but we think that it is very, like I said, cost-effective, our strategy is not selling so many articles at some point, because people here can not accept so many articles, you throw it all at once, people have to learn about our brand, after the shawls came out, and we thought everyone was very happy about it. We thought that we should make it in many colors; people can select their own colors, and people started collecting it like crazy. At one point, I remember one person bought a dozen or two dozen.

R: After that we made the new style, the fringe and the krey, and people went crazy about it.

C: It actually is our experiment in immigrant, we were doing a photoshoot, we are thinking about making the shots more interesting and just like that, it was a experiment and we found it, and it boomed. And people thought,  OK, I understand what your branding is all about. And the colors, sometimes we don’t make it anymore, because we don’t have the fabric anymore, its very expensive if you want to order fabric, from the raw (material) to the coloring, so I think you don’t want to bump into someone,

R: wearing the same color, same style

C: Different color is OK.

Alban Sciascia - Nationality: French

PhD candidate and researcher in politics with focus in conflict in South East Asia/United States, previously lived in Bangkok for 3 months and currently resides in Yogyakarta.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….

W: Thailand has always been a considered a peaceful place. People go about living with no fear. But all order broke loose and mayhem occurred during April – May. What do you think are the roots of this conflict?

A: The first thing I can say is perhaps that I’m not really surprised by the events of April-May 2010. Since several years, tensions increased between two main clans, the Bangkok society and the rest of the country. If the red people are often considered as coming from Issan area, they can count on more supporters from other regions of Thailand. The Bangkok society – symbolized by the yellow – then multicolored – shirts always seems to be oblivious about the reality that the rest of the country have to face. Election of Thaksin was considered as a change for countryside people. We all know what happened after that.

Concerning the roots, we can talk about the dissimilar economic development known in Thailand, the increase of poverty – without any real public policy for countryside people, etc. But I remember an editorial on the web version of the Bangkok Post. The journalist ask in his article on “What is the real meaning of being Thai?” Since years, successive governments try to develop what they called “Thai-ness”, trying to create and consolidate a national identity and unity which is totally artificial. In his article the journalist asked: don’t we see that there’s no much different than a man from Issan than a man from Bangkok? In southern Thailand, Thai people leaving in South Islands have more in common with farang (foreigners) than with people of Chiang Mai. And what about people in Pattani and Yala province? This situation – I hope you won’t take the wrong way – made me draw a parallel with the Indonesian unity: a central power centered on one kind pf population who owns the political power (Bangkok Society/Javanese Society) and several ethnicity/populations who are politically ruled by a central power who develop different aspirations concerning policy making and populations needs.

Of course, like in Indonesia, Thailand unity has been “protected” by nationalist politics and reference to an emblematic leader (The King of Thailand). Last, but not least, the different parties who struggle for power in Bangkok has surely played a huge role.

W: A lot of floating terms are coining the situation as a civil war, would you considered it to be so?

A: It depends on what we refer as civil war. Of course, we have seen urban battles scenarios during the riots.

W: What are the effects of the riot towards maintaining and enhancing a secure community in Tha iland as well as in the Asia-Pacific region?

A: The violence of the riots surprised a lot of observers. I remember how the information was treated by western medias. Of course, they all sell Thailand as the perfect destination for tourism. During first days, they did not talk about what happened. I remember that I received more accurate information from a friend in Bangkok who sent me a lot of pictures of the riots and the army deployment in Silom. It was totally different with what I can see on CNN, BBC or LCI (French Information Channel).

I think that the main consequence for Asia Pacific region was the increase of tourists in Indonesia and Malaysia. We can take the example of Bali, who became the great winner of the Thai riots.

To get back on a political perspective, a lot of observers have been surprised. indeed, Thailand still is considered as one of the more stable country of the area (as Vietnam and Singapore). For the Thai secure community, you can go back to my first answer: unity of the country has been hit hard.

Concerning other consequences, the effects could be a decrease of foreign investments in Thailand ( Malaysia and Vietnam could win a lot on this side), a loss of trust for Thailand partners. On a security view, effects are limited. Even the Southern insurgents in Thailand stayed quiet during the riots. I don’t think the security balance of the area could be really by the events. If the enhancing of a secure community in Asia Pacific is a long process, it is not really disturbed by internals problems. In my opinion, regular tensions between Indonesia and Malaysia are more threatening events.