New directors of Cemeti - Institute for Art and Society
By Mira Asriningtyas

This article is a part of CHECK-IN 2024, our annual publication, which comes in at 313 pages this year. You can buy a limited-edition print copy at SGD38 here.

'My Own Words' is a monthly series which features personal essays by practitioners in the Southeast Asian art community. They deliberate on their locality's present circumstances, articulating observations and challenges in their respective roles.

Façade of Cemeti - Institute for Art and Society. Photo taken in 2022. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

Earlier this year, Dito Yuwono and I were appointed as the new directors of Cemeti - Institute for Art and Society, the oldest platform for contemporary art in Indonesia. It was formerly known as Cemeti Gallery, then Cemeti Art House. Dito is an artist-curator who is also co-director of Ruang MES56 since 2020. Dito and I have worked together for more than 12 years as LIR. LIR started as an art space in 2011, and in 2019 became a nomadic curatorial collective.

Over the years, the institutional format has been perpetually renewed, and instead of taking this role as a collective, we are doing so as two individuals, in a speculative practice of institution making. We land with a plan and a roadmap, but we are fully aware that we did not arrive in a vacuum. The significance and the history of Cemeti humbled us. So, what does it mean for us to practise institution-making in such a legendary institution? In setting our ground in this context, we first asked ourselves how we connected to Cemeti in the past.

Cemeti was founded in 1988 by artists Mella Jaarsma and Nindityo Adipurnomo to provide an alternative space to the state-run galleries and art institutions of the Indonesian New Order era. During the dictatorship of Soeharto, artists would make critical and political artworks in the safety of a small makeshift art space in the living room of the founder's rented house. In 2017, the subtitle 'Institute for Art and Society' was added to Cemeti's name to express the organisation's commitment to socially and politically engaged artistic practices, exploring the possibility of a gallery to act as a site for civic action. Cemeti has remained active throughout different political regimes, and we are interested in learning how changing political power affects institutional and curatorial practice. 36 years after its founding, Cemeti is no longer seen as an alternative space but as an established art institution in Indonesia.

For us, the acclimatisation process engaged all the senses. We landed straight from the dry and icy winter of the Netherlands to the sticky heat of Yogyakarta. We had a couple of days to adjust to the time zone before starting the transition process at Cemeti. Just a few days before, the quick count result of the Indonesian presidential election gave us a glimpse into our near future: the ex-general tied to a past dictatorship might win the majority of the election. A week later, during her speech at the handover reception from the old to the new teams, Mella Jaarsma said about the election, "Be ready; it is going to be an interesting time."

Dito Yuwono leading a university visit around Cemeti, 2024. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

Artists Maryanto and Jompet Kuswidananto randomly stopping by at Cemeti for a casual conversation with Mira Asriningtyas and Dito Yuwono, 2024. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

After slowly settling in at Cemeti, I first noticed the porosity. We left the front door wide open as soon as we moved in, allowing plenty of light and wind to enter. However, light, wind, occasional rain, the bustling sound of the street, and constant humidity were not the only elements entering the space. In keeping the door open, passers-by, tourists, neighbours, and artists can come for a quick chat that often extended to hours of conversation. The architect, the late Eko Prawoto, designed the space with the idea of porosity, creating a connection between the building, the people, and the surroundings. The entrance is a humble vernacular building, welcoming guests with typical Javanese hospitality and intimacy. As people enter further into the building, the gallery area has white walls, neutral floors, plenty of natural light, and exhibition lighting to display artworks. It is not a uniform and sterile white-cube gallery.

In reflecting on the white-cube nature of the conventional gallery, I remember artist Agung Kurniawan's statement that it is misplaced in Indonesia. In his opinion, first, it does not suit the region’s weather, humidity, and spirit. Second, art should not alienate society; instead, it should be part of it. The smell of frying terasi (shrimp paste) from the neighbour’s home might easily permeate through the window of a contemporary art gallery, and the sound of the street might interlace with the sound of a new media work.

‘Mental Archive’, 2010, exhibition view. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

Titarubi, ‘KISAH TANPA NARASI’, 2007, exhibition view. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

Learning from the statement above and the porosity of the building of Cemeti, I firmly believe that the socio-political and the society shall never be isolated from the discourse of art and artistic practice. An art institution in Indonesia is often polyphonic and filled with sensorial features. From the architectural features of Cemeti alone, one can learn how the institution is inherently relational: rooted and designed to be locally significant and internationally relevant. It is about how art and the art institution relate to society.

Open Studio: Nindityo Adipurnomo, at Cemeti Stockroom from April to May 2024. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

Like many art practitioners in our generation, we have been directly and indirectly shaped by the presence of Cemeti with its rigorous programmes and exhibitions. Cemeti has continuously offered artists and cultural practitioners a platform to develop and present their work in close collaboration with curators, researchers, activists, writers, performers, and local communities. The programme takes shape through exhibitions, workshops, talks, assemblies, publications, long-term research, and the annual artist-in-residence programme. During our tenure, we will use the Stockroom as a project space that opens up the possibility of collaboration and addresses urgent needs of the (art and non-art) society outside of the regular programming.

Mella Jaarsma, leftmost, speaking to visitors, 2024. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

Dito and Mira with a group from Independent Curators International (ICI), 2024. Image courtesy of Cemeti.

We have devised a road map: a trajectory for the next five years in three stages. It is as if we are writing a book in three chapters. The first chapter, "Learning Nearby", is a proposition of learning together, with and from each other. We see the urgency of rethinking ways of learning and the idea of knowledge as a non-singular thing. Knowledge can be manifested in the way of living transmitted through generations regarding the understanding of the senses, the world, and natural phenomena, as well as the socio political history of the place where we are. It attempts to see the “contemporary” as not merely about newness in art but also in the regenerative and constant recontextualisation of knowledge. The ground where we live and the society we are part of are a constellation of knowledge that is equal, regenerative, and contextual. It is an attempt to set the ground, understand the positionality of where we are standing, the society in proximity with the daily realities of the institution, and continuously assess our ways of knowing.

The second chapter, "On Solidarity and Planetary Justice", comes after understanding the ground and setting the roots: connecting art to activism, solidarity, and civic action. From the beginning, Cemeti has been a political space, inseparable from the socio-political climate around it. It is not just about art, but about what we can do with it. In the second chapter, we keep the programming relatively open, porous, and responsive to the world around us.

For the third chapter, we borrow the Zapatista movement's notion of "A World Where Many Worlds Fit”. We are interested in learning about other situated practices and decolonial approaches to institution-making elsewhere. The format of an art institution can not be the same everywhere; each is unique and relevant within its context. There are many ways of being, relating, and doing things. This chapter comes after first positioning the institution, setting up the ground, and planting the roots locally; second, connecting to different struggles and solidarity movements globally; and finally, being part of a world where many worlds fit. It is an attempt to connect different institutions worldwide in what we refer to as the "Constellation of Friendship". Within this constellation, we share the values of equality, intimacy, and mutual respect. Within this constellation, solidarity and commonality are interconnected through an organic network of art institutions as a place for civic movement and rooted art practices.

Outside, the world is slowly changing, and we shall keep the front door open.

This article is a part of CHECK-IN 2024, our annual publication, which comes in at 313 pages this year. You can buy a limited-edition print copy at SGD38 here.