Bilik Korea Biennale Jogja XVI Equator #6 2021: Hacking Domesticity summarizes the history and experiences of women from different cultural contexts—Indonesia, South Korea, Thailand, and Cambodia through artworks by seven artists: Agnes Christina, Ampannee Satoh, Chang Jia, Etza Meisyara, Fitri DK, Siren Eun Young Jung, and Sao Sreymao.
When trying to delve into the artwork, my heart was silent. It’s not that I’m numb, but that I feel guilty for realizing I’m so distant. It’s as if there is a gap between my experience and the struggle of women—or womanism- that inspires the artworks here.
How can I build the bridges between experience and struggle?
Art and communication products
It began with the art of “Nyawiji Kanggo Ibu Bumi” which hangs on the right side in the exhibition room of the Museum and Tanah Liat (MDTL). Drawn on a piece of cloth, a woman sits wearing a hat. Cement shackles both her feet, with the words “Tolak Pabrik Semen” and “Kendeng Lestari”.
Fitri DK’s work underscores the resistance of farmer mothers in Kendeng Regency who are at the forefront in the fight against the construction of cement factories in rice fields there. They carried out symbolic actions—praying and holding their feet with cement for days—in front of the Presidential Palace and the House of Representatives.
This work reminds me of the news titled “Selamat Jalan Yu Patmi” or “Farewell Ms. Patmi” on Tirto.id which I ever read in a book, Kabar Buruk Hari ini (Today’s Bad News) by Mawa Kresna. Yu Patmi, or Ms. Yatmi, a Kendeng fighter woman, passed away after the cement struggle in front of the State Palace on March 21 four years ago. The news left a deep sorrow, especially for the Kendeng fighter.
Broadly speaking, this news tries to visit the issues of people who have been marginalized in mainstream mass media coverage.
These two works are different products—art and communication. However, both of them made me feel guilty in almost the same way. Seeing the art and reading the news both made me feel guilty and made me almost slip into the abyss.
Upsetting Perception
When I went further into the showroom, I found another work: “Physical Requirements for becoming an Artist “2nd-Enjoy Yourself in Every Condition” by Chang Jia which combines performing arts and video media.
This South Korean artist featured a woman with straight, long, and black hair, with a clean white dress. She looked at the camera calmly and occasionally smiled. I shuddered.
What gave me the creeps was someone—hereafter called, more appropriately, torturer—suddenly spat at the woman. After her face and hair were covered with spit, the torturer then threw raw eggs at her. The woman’s hair that was once neat, as well as the previously clean white clothes, became dirty and messy.
It wasn’t enough. The torturer slapped and shook the woman’s head repeatedly.
I observed that the woman was still smiling and grinning at me.
What does it mean? Was the torment pleasant to her? I asked myself a lot of questions—both that were actual questions, and those that took the form of a collection of question marks—to myself.
I immediately thought of the women who saw this work, ones who survived violence. Even though I know the video is just performing art—which was obviously choreographed—pain is still pain.
