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Tisna Sanjaya’s Cigondewah Cultural Centre
Art, waste, and urban politics in Bandung, Indonesia Text and photography by Roy Voragen
“The future of art is not artistic, but urban.” —Henri Lefebvre Sustainability has for good reasons become a trending theme in recent years. However, Bandung-based architect Achmad D. Tardiyana, who is a senior architect at Urbane and teaches architecture at the Institute of Technology Bandung (ITB), stated that “most private clients in Indonesia do not yet prioritize sustainable architecture since they often write-off an asset after already approximately a decade.”1 Sustainable architecture, by definition, needs to withstand the time of a “normal” business cycle. If sustainable architecture is going to be a successful practice, we need to raise the ethical question of what forms our lives should take. Sustainability, therefore, is thus more than a technological or pragmatic matter. And this is why art can be of utmost importance. The arts can offer us the much-needed vivid imagination and new metaphors through which we come to believe passionately in the possibilities of different urban living and act accordingly. Art, therefore, can form a bridge between the real and the possible. Artists can show us that ethics and aesthetics can be the two sides of the same proverbial coin. What we value ethically is shown aesthetically in the forms of our actions and creations. And the built environment in general and our cities in particular are among these
creations. Instead of telling people what sustainability is or could be, or why it is necessary, artists can show this through their art.
dialectic stance—of passion and compassion, and of aesthetic ethics/ethical aesthetics—is more than just another fashionable lifestyle.
I am not claiming that all art should be politically charged (but, on the other hand, all artists should be politically aware of the contexts they are living in). One artist who not only has a sensitive awareness of the socio-political context he works in but whose artworks are often also very critical politically is Tisna Sanjaya (b.1958, Bandung, Indonesia).
The critical socio-political disposition that underlies all his work has brought him problems. In early 2004, an installation he had created and installed in a public space in northern Bandung (close to the campus of ITB) was burned down by local authorities claiming it was garbage. He managed to collect the ashes of this burned-down installation, which he in turn recycled into a new artwork signifying the life-and-death cycle. And he urges us to appreciate again cyclical temporality in a time dominated by linearity of the market, industrialisation, and urbanisation.
Tisna Sanjaya studied art at ITB (1979–1986) and at the art school of Braunschweig in Germany (1991–1994 and 1997–1998). And while he is trained as a printmaker, he has over the years explored many different media, such as painting, installation, and performance art to make his powerful voice heard. He has also been a longtime faculty member at the art school of ITB, where he inspires generations of aspiring artists. In 2008, he had a widely acclaimed solo exhibition at the National Gallery in Jakarta titled Ideocracy: Rethinking the Regime of Etching. Eddy Soetriyono commented on this exhibition by stating that Tisna Sanjaya “devotes himself so completely to his art that there appears to be no boundary between his daily life and his art. Art underlies his daily behavior and daily life provides the source of his art.”2 And while the term “the art of living” has become en vogue, Tisna Sanjaya’s
In 2008, his artistic work took a spatial turn when he decided to purchase a plot of land in Cigondewah in southwest Bandung3 where he grew up. Since his childhood, however, the area has witnessed dramatic changes: from a rural setting with lush paddy fields and kids playing freely on communal land, it has turned into a highly industrialised and polluted neighbourhood dominated by textile factories and garbage recycling. Several environmental issues plague the area: flooding during rainy season, an overflow of garbage, and pollution of soil and water. Tisna Sanjaya decided to found the Cigondewah Cultural Centre as an attempt to rejuvenate the area. As a community centre, Tisna
Sanjaya’s Cigondewah Cultural Centre strives to create environmental awareness by organising various public events, such as the planting of trees, workshops, discussions, performance art, martial art, pigeon races, kite flying, and soccer games. Instead of telling people what sustainability means, he shows it by building up a piece of land in an area of Bandung that has to deal with the unwanted or even unintended consequences of industrialisation and urbanisation. And while kite flying seems rather frivolous in the light of these problems, to Tisna Sanjaya, the activity epitomises the freedom to use communal spaces—spaces that today have nearly disappeared from the urban face. Industrialisation and urbanisation, according to Tisna Sanjaya, destroyed the traditional communal uses of open spaces. He calls the environmental destruction the dark side of modernisation and he hopes that art can give light to illuminate this darkness. He sees that prosperity is only for the very few and private, while all have to deal with the public side effects of modernisation. In other words, the moral hazard is toxic: “Where a clean river once flowed, it is now filled with waste, clear water has now been replaced with a rainbow of colours . . . depending on the toxic discharge from the factories upstream.”4 It is, therefore, safe to claim that a more sustainable city is a more just city.