Art, Nation and Memory

What do you think an artist is? An imbecile who has only eyes if he is a painter, or ears if he is a musician or a lyre in every chamber of his heart if he is a poet, or even, if he is a boxer, just his muscles? Far, far from it: at the same time, he is also a political being, constantly aware of the heartbreaking, passionate, or delightful things that happen in the world, shaping himself completely in their image. How could it be possible to feel no interest in other people, and with a cool indifference to detach yourself from the very life which they bring to you so abundantly? No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war.

- Picasso in an interview with Simone Tery, March 24, 1945


“An artist cannot fail; it is a success to be one.” Art is a form of personal expression, which goes beyond having a purpose, for no artist is a success or a failure, as he creates to speak the only way he can: by creating more art. However, sometimes art takes such a form that it has the ability to encompass the complexities of life and the travails of humanity, where the brush strokes are made, keeping in mind the conscience of a nation. When nations go through turbulent times, it’s often art that brings out the spirit and the struggle of the people. It is then used simultaneously as a weapon and as a support system, to inflict and heal wounds at the same time. There is an undying quality about art which allows it to be timeless, and for the discerning reader, it offers a multitude of reflections. It’s a harbinger of learning’s for the future, and memories of the past are evoked.

The past and the future together create the present, for it is impossible for the present to exist without the cognizance of the past or a vision for the future. It is only natural that nations rely on their past and history to define and identify themselves. It gives them the legitimacy to carry on with their ideas and present it to the future generations to come. However, how does a nation confront its past when it has been a victim of the mistakes of its own people? Is it prudent to forget such a past, glossing over it and covering up the mistakes done by its people? Or should the nation be constantly reminded of the wrong road once taken, to ensure that the same path is never trodden again. This is where precisely art comes in, as it does not allow people to forget, the follies of God’s greatest creation.

When nations are under conflict, along with war and the loss of their identity, many things have been confiscated from the people: not only their homes and their possessions but also their memory. It’s an invisible loss which one fails to see in the state of misery and obvious losses. However, it is a loss which is far more important, for it exists in the realm of the mind, a territory often considered difficult to access. Moreover, war by its nature is made to be a human condition which encourages amnesia, which leads us to a situation where we erase one memory and construct a new one – we are forever in a state of enforced amnesia and enforced remembrance.

But most importantly, the arts intend to explore the critical questions: What is history and what is memory, what is personal and what is collective memory? Collective memory arises out of the consciousness of the personal memory of people. However, collective memory can be erased and rewritten, constructed and reconstructed, confiscated and confiscated and deemed politically correct or incorrect. The constant struggle for the territory of collective memory is the reason behind the political and power struggle. So while the world mourns the losses the nation incurred, one must not forget that the misfortune of others is free and does not hurt. We may sympathize and pity, but it will be forever hard for us to comprehend the actual truth, to truly understand and comprehend the losses of the people. Collective memory is one such loss, which being multifaceted and complex could be grasped only by the people who have been victims. It could be safely said that while the nation intends to construct a new collective memory, through its art, a reconfestication of the lost collective memory is warranted.

The Indonesian Experience

The travel bug has bitten me. First Stop: Palau Bintan and Batam, Indonesia. I realize that I haven't written a travelogue ever, so wondering what to write here. The space belongs to me, so I shall rant on.

As I write, It has been just over 24 hours since I returned to Singapore. The experience has been unique, enriching and memorable. I will just leave you with 4 photos, my pick from the trip which I feel would sum up my experience.



I took this one in Palau Bintan at the resort we stayed at. The photo reminds me of everything Indonesian, the beautiful tiny islands which make up the country, amazing weather, the hardworking and honest people, the constant struggle between tradition and modernity, the want to leave behind the past and move into the future. A nation stranded on the shore, weighed down by its history, buckling under the pressure of its own expectations. Watching from the sidelines as the world rushes past them, waiting for things to happen, waiting for change, living in hope and dying in despair. A dot in the sky, a speck in the ocean.A boat that's forever docked, waiting for the oceans to calm down, held by flimsy support, tattered by the forces of nature. A future always under construction, a dream that never really took off, the design that never left the drawing board.




An average Indonesian, travels by ferry daily, and is more worried about a million other things we can ever think of. Except what is on his shirt. I don't know if I should laugh or cry, or whether its ironical or sarcastic, maybe just my lens is a bit too coloured. It reads

"When Absolutely, Positively has to be destroyed overnight, US MARINES"

He is probably to oblivious to what the shirt says. Probably he needs a lesson in History. To tell him what the world has done to Indonesia. Or worse what Indonesia could not learn. The oppressed became the oppressor. They collaborated. What they did to East Timor or the 100,000 people who died will not be forgotten. The scars run deep. Time heals everything, but memories don't fade away easily.Can Indonesia ever forgive the Japanese or the world? Can East Timor ever forgive Indonesia? Will we ever learn from our follies and learn to forgive and forget? We all need to.



Photo Courtesy : Rowena Sace

A little girl at the Tangung Uban terminal. Cute that she is, she wanted to take photos with us and we happily obliged. After the photos, when we were about to leave, she asked us for money. I wondered, that here she is, trying to make a living, when she could have been enjoying her childhood. I didn't feel cheated or annoyed or angry, just felt sad. That's the future of Indonesia working when she should be not. Circumstances force us to make choices which are often wrong, and only correct in the best interest of the times. But time is fickle and shows its back as it walks away. It is just a silent collaborator, watching as we go about our business, smirking at our choices, giggling at our indecisiveness. So what, as humans should we do, to deal with circumstances and choices we make and the ones we should have made. A lifetime goes away in regrets not the things we did, but things we did not do, the risks we did not take. But for her, what choices does she really have?




Photo Courtesy : Rowena Sace

At a restaurant in Bintan. This trio of teenagers just burst onto the scene and started to sing and dance. Though I couldn't understand a word, I loved it. The moment they finished, we applauded and one could see them beaming with pride. It wasn't money that they played for. They just played for the pure joy of music. It was the appreciation and recognition they were looking for. Much like their motherland. Trying to stand apart from the crowd, trying not to drown in the shouting and noise, trying to tell the world that they need to be taken seriously. A race which needs to be heard. It gives me immense hope that the world can be a better place, when people try to be happy despite their circumstances.

Indonesia to me, inspite of its circumstances, is an Enigmatic Contradiction.