A few years ago I wrote ‘Taking Cover’, an essay tracing the development of Mella Jaarsma’s work, which highlighted the transformation of her costume installations from their shroud-like origin to structural forms that evoke the notion of temporary shelters and portable homes.
The essay discussed her earlier work’s corporeal and performative quality, which adopted the notion of garment as ‘skin’, as well as its symbolic meaning based on the materials chosen to create these costumes (animal skins, horns and cocoons among others) to highlight key issues of origin, identity and ‘Otherness’. From 2004 onwards, due to the events that took place in her surrounding environment ‘the Bali bombing, tsunami in Aceh and later the earthquake that shook Yogyakarta in 2006, a shift occurred in Mella’s personal exploration, as her work became more architectural and utilitarian in form and design. The scope of her focus seemed also to broaden, addressing wider issues in contemporary society such as the notion of seeking protection, migration and mobility, and other socio-cultural idiosyncrasies encountered during her travel abroad.
Over the past several years, Mella’s construction of forms and material usage has progressed further. Her works are no longer just ‘single-bodied structures’ or shelters; they have become unusual hybrid forms as seen in ‘ This Land is Ours’ (2007) and ‘Wo(man) of Quality’ (2007), and more versatile and playful ‘Zipper Zone’ (2009), actively inviting interaction between audience and work. Meanwhile, the artist’s choice of material has moved on from exotic skins and motifs that draw specific references to particular cultures or social groups, to ubiquitous objects such as zippers, buttons, wigs and hair curlers that address social encounters derived from the everyday. The relatively light-hearted tone of her work in recent years is perhaps a reflection of a more peaceful time (in comparison to the socio-political unrest of the late 1990s); contemporary Indonesian expression today is marked by a plurality of concerns and wide spectrum of individual narratives. There has also been an increasing emphasis on performance and the incorporation of video in her installations ‘My Name is Michaella Jarawiri’ (2007/09) and‘ A Myth or Not?’ (2008), which may be attributed to her active participation in a number of performance art workshops and events, and experimentation with time-based media.
During a recent visit to Mella’s home and studio to view a new body of work she is developing for projects in Taipei and Utrecht, we re-looked at past works in her archive of images and discussed the ideas and influences which have come to inform her artistic approach, the new direction she is exploring and how her exploration of ‘shadow and light’, which brought her to Yogyakarta during the early 1980s, has come full circle 25 years later.
Animal skins and ‘otherness’
The exotic animal skins employed to create Mella’s costumes have been chosen as loaded metaphors for race, sexuality and questions of authenticity. I asked Mella if the works made between 1998 – 2002 in particular ‘Hi Inlander’ (1998-1999), ‘ I Am Ethnic I, II’ (2000), ‘I Fry You I, II’ (2000), ‘Londo Ngemis/Gila Bule’ (2002), ‘Bule Bull’ (2002) and ‘Bolak Balik’ (2002), bore any relation to her displaced identity as a Dutch person who has chosen to call Indonesia home. “Contrary to what many people think, my works are not about me per se. The duality addressed in my costume (installation) works were not made due to my ‘displaced’ identity as a ‘londo’ in Yogyakarta, to comment on my ‘otherness’ —that I was alienated (by local society), or whether I belonged to this country or not. The inside/outside experience of the work relates to the observations of my surrounding, about human nature in general and the possibility of different or opposing viewpoints, that there are two sides, at times more, to a story. It is more about (human) existence actually, our responses to others and our environment.
In reference to her surroundings, in particular the turbulent events following the 1997 economic crash that led to the anti-Chinese riots,’ Reformasi,’ and a number of religious clashes dominating Indonesia’s socio-political landscape during that period of time, she adds, “It was impossible to ignore all that was going on at that time, whether or not I am ‘londo’ was beside the point, I felt I should address the problems in my surroundings as I am a part of this society.”
Addressing the body
Mella’s work due to its inter-changeable nature can be read as an object when it is seen on its own, a performance when it is worn by a model, or an installation —in the absence of a model, when the costume is usually accompanied by a series of photographs or a video portraying the costume and its wearer in action or standing motionless. These documentations serve as a reminder to viewers that the work cannot be separated from the human body. Without it, her costumes and structures appear like discarded shells, dead and empty, lifeless. The presence of the human body inhabiting or wearing the costume/structure is necessary to ‘complete’ the form and intensify its symbolic meaning. If we adopt the principle that the artist’s costumes/structures are based on the inherent notion of ‘dress’ or ‘skins’ to present particular identity/ies or ‘self’, then the body and the costume cannot be perceived separately, but simultaneously as a whole.
For instance in the work for Yokohama Triennale 2005 (Shelter Me I, II, III & IV), I originally wanted to present the structures on their own. Usually in my other works, there are photos of the costume being worn by a model to accompany the installation when the models are not present. However, in this instance, the structures for ‘Shelter Me’ looked really incomplete. “I decided to incorporate the clothes worn by the model during the performance in the structure (especially for ‘Shelter Me I’ ) and the video documentation of the site-specific performances to suggest a sense of absence. My work is only complete when it contains the presence/absence of the body. Otherwise, they look like mere structures, like strange cupboards and shelves, which is not what I want at all.”
The presence of the body highlights the constraining quality of the costumes/structures. It demonstrates the way a body is bound by its shape, allowing the body to move only in a certain way, exposing parts of the body — eyes and legs in earlier works, and later other body parts usually considered taboo, such as the buttocks and most recently, the male genital area, in ‘My Name is Michaella Jarawiri’ (2007/2009). This can be read as a metaphor for the way individuals are required to conform to particular codes of etiquette, and social expectations, the unwritten rules laid down by society that determines the acceptance and definition of ‘rightful’ behaviour, based on one’s social and cultural context.
Without tension there is no interest, Mella elaborates further about the relationship between model and observer: The observer and the model do not share the same experience. The model knows what it is like to be in the costume ‘the physical feeling of being shrouded by the materials, the weight of the costume on his/her body, and the experience of standing there, being looked at by so many people. The observer holds a different perspective, as he/she can only look at the costume and the model’¦he/she (the observer) can only ‘enter’ the position of the wearer through his/her imagination to imagine the feeling of being inside the costume.’
The realization that there is a human being, living and breathing beneath the costume/structure, not only uncovers another layer in the artist’s Pandora’s box of meanings but also challenges the dynamics of the room which the work inhabits. The presence of ‘a living exhibit” triggers a feeling of unease in the viewers’ consciousness, shifting the context of ‘an exhibition’ a little too close to that of ‘a spectacle’. An observer’s uncertain reaction to the model’s presence is not dissimilar to the way people normally react to living mannequins (chanced upon in street acts or at human circus attractions): the awkward encounter with the stillness and silence of these ‘living costumes/sculptures’, the eerie sensation of being watched, or that certain clumsiness or embarrassment when regarding ‘the exotic other’ as one is uncertain where to place one’s eyes.
You begin to question your own response, “is it rude to stare? Are we allowed to touch? How should you regard the work (and by extension model)? Do you ignore him/her, can we speak to him/her?” All these uncertainties are expected, what is interesting is knowing that these feelings are probably going through people’s heads, but they try very hard to act nonchalant— to not show it or talk about it. It’s like the English saying, ‘an elephant in the room’. Hopefully this is not all they think about, and the experience of encounter does not stop there, that this is just a layer among their many feelings and thoughts.
“At the end of the day, the costumes/installations I have created are based on my experience with different communities; some relationships run deeper than others. I hope the viewers are able to reflect on their personal experience, memories and interpretations when looking on my work. I hope to challenge them to think differently or offer them something to think about.”
The Artist as Ethnographer
Mella’s approach possesses a strong ethnographic inclination, taking her away from the confines of her studio to embark in ‘fieldwork’ to unexpected places and communities. For instance, the animal skins costumes from early 2000 connected her to Yogyakarta’s artisan community, in search of craftsmen who will collaborate or assist her in realising her work. The preparation of each skin, reptile or mammal, requires particular knowledge and skills. The different types of skins and their respective ‘harvesting’ process also lend the work a symbolic weight as certain hides are farm raised, while others may require a more predatory approach that involves hunting and gathering. “The material, maybe because it is taken from a living thing, has a way of provoking particular responses… It is normal that people would bring along their own baggage when reading an artwork or anything visual. I suppose that is why I chose to work with certain materials, the animal skins especially. Different cultures and different peoples hold different perceptions to animals and their ‘skin’—it can be loved, it can be hated; some people react very strongly against it ‘they find it sinister, gross, fetishistic’. I knew there would be different responses, especially when the work travels to different parts of the world. What is gross (jijik) to some may be quite normal to ‘others’.”
“The notion of taboo is later explored following an unexpected trip to West Papua (formerly known as Irian Jaya), albeit from a different approach in’ My Name is Michaella Jarawiri’ (2007/2009).” “I don’t think I had a clear idea of what I was going to do before the trip. All I knew was, I wanted to go to (West) Papua to go penis sheath hunting!” The result is an installation consisting of two videos, featuring the art of ‘koteka’ making and a biography of a fictional character Michaella Jarawiri, a contemporary artist from Papua, a display of 150 koteka (penis sheaths commonly worn by Papuan men from the Baliem area) of different sizes, forms and descriptions, as well as two changing rooms for men only. Male audiences were encouraged to try on these’ koteka’ and show off their ‘fit’ to the public.
“In a way, Michaella was my ‘alter ego’. I created her to address my encounter with Papua. Being in a place so far away from ‘the center’ (Java), made me think about dominant and marginalised cultures, what is acceptable and what is taboo, the images that we conjure when we think of ‘Indonesia’ and the reality that is ‘Indonesia’ are deeply conflicting. I also question the ‘taming’ of one’s culture because of religion, and how easy it is to disregard what was once sacred.” In Papua, ‘foreigners’ who are not from Papua, especially Javanese, are called ‘straight people’ because of their ‘straight’ hair. Many men and women in Baliem Valley ‘the place where I visited’ still dressed in their traditional way, aside from their’ koteka’ (penis sheaths), the older men didn’t wear much else; it is interesting to note that their’ kotekas’ are’ their makeshift purses also. Some of the women walked around bare-breasted although many of them have covered up ever since they converted to Christianity.
One of the most meaningful encounters from working with different communities stemmed from‘ The Last Animist’ (2008), made in collaboration with Nindityo Adipurnomo and the town folks of Arnhem. ‘This work misses the point when it is seen without the people who acted as ‘carriers’ or object bearers. The participants of the procession and the objects they carried played a major symbolic role as they provided meaning and significance.
Arnhem is populated by a large number of migrant communities’ we wanted to get to know more about them and their stories. We explored the different notions of ‘treasured objects’ with the town folks, interviewing various individuals and families about the things they brought with them when they left their home country, especially those who fled under duress, leaving literally with the clothes on their backs. The intention was to highlight the different ways human beings choose to look at objects and place emotional value and meaning on them. It is fascinating how something ordinary can be precious because they commemorate a particular event, or hold the key to someone’s past and so on.
In response to their stories, we designed a series of floats and shelters, inspired by forms and materials that local animist culture in Indonesia believe to possess particular ‘powers’. These floats and shelter-like structures were our way of ‘sheltering’ and emphasizing the sacredness or significance of the objects brought to the procession. They echo they way we would treat treasured objects, which are either concealed in a ‘safe’ or secure space or displayed prominently’¦ think along the lines of treasure chests, altars, wunderkammern and etc.’
Exploration of Shadow and Light
‘Kanda Empat’ (Square Body) (2009) is inspired by the Balinese belief of ‘The Four Protectors’, the guiding force in every human being’s life.’ ‘It is believed that these ‘four brothers’ (or forces) metamorphose into different shapes and are known by different names according to the different stages of our lives, from the time we are six-month old fetuses in our mothers’ wombs.’
First seen at ‘Blueprint for Jogja’ organised by Tembi Contemporary earlier this year, this idea is currently being expanded for a major exhibition showcasing works from Indonesia entitled ‘Beyond The Dutch’ at Utrecht Centraal Museum. ‘For the exhibition in Utrecht I want to create ‘shadow dresses’. I positioned four leather cut outs of hybrid animal motifs on the edges of each dress and installed a light source inside them to project the shadows of the animals on the surrounding walls. Models wearing the dresses will be performing with the shadows, slowly moving back and forth in a room that measures approximately 3 meters wide, controlling the projection by enlarging and reducing the shadows (of the animal forms) in the room.
I chose the animal form as a ‘vehicle’ to convey this idea… animals are often perceived as archetypes, possessing certain spiritual powers, Man’s symbolic partner according to numerous mythical beliefs and etc. I made them out of black leather, after the sketches I had made in ink. I did not create each shape with a specific animal in mind while painting, they happened to appear like hybrid animal forms, suggesting numerous possible associations.
One of the reasons why I came to Indonesia in 1984 was due to my interest in shadows. I wanted to learn more about shadows by researching the significance of shadows in Indonesia’s diverse culture. During the course of my research, I encountered this idea of shadow as a ‘medium’, an intermediate between the material and immaterial world. Now, twenty-odd years later, I am revisiting this interest, as well as to re-examine the significance of shadows in contemporary Indonesia, its relationship to history, culture and tradition.
I will be performing with the models on opening night, I will be wearing one of the dresses… the public will also be a part of this installation as their shadows will be cast by the lights from our dresses. This work is about the symbolic meaning of light and shadow, how interpretations of light and shadows often overlap in different cultures. The four animal forms on each dress can be seen as surrounding (or protecting) the centre, the human body…it can be read as a spiritual shelter, protecting the invisible force of our existence.
Adeline Ooi in conversation with Mella Jaarsma
August 2009, Yogyakarta/Kuala Lumpur