Affandi, warts and all

A centennial exhibition on Affandi this year showed contemporary artists delving into the negative aspects of the master’s persona instead of his artistic achievements. Carla Bianpoen reports.

Affandi is probably the only Indonesian painter who is known worldwide. Considered the country’s foremost expressionist painter, his works toured the world and his talent was widely acknowledged.

Born in 1907 in Cirebon, West Java, he was the son of a surveyor at a local sugar factory. He dropped out of secondary school to pursue his dream of becoming an artist.

Self-taught, he started a new style of expressionism by accident. He found that squeezing the paint straight from the tube and using his fingers instead of the brush made his paintings more emotionally tangible.

Affandi, who died in 1990, continues to hold a significant place in Indonesia’s art world. Along with Hendra Gunawan, he was instrumental in setting up sanggar, workshops that provided basic art education and appreciation as forerunners of art institutes.

His works do the rounds of international auctions today, fetching millions of dollars, including at Sotheby’s and Christie’s April auctions.  Respected collectors like Deddy Kusuma and Dr. Oei Hong Djien are firm fans. To commemorate the centennial of Affandi’s birth, a book written by local and international authors is in the offing, slated to be launched in Singapore sometime in October. 

Galeri Semarang, supported by American Express Bank, also held an exhibition at the National Archives building  in Jakarta, with more than 60 contemporary artists involved.

“Imagined Affandi” was seen as a historic happening, allowing artists of today to imagine Affandi in their works. They did indeed, with most using the distinctive icons of the master, including the cangklung pipe, the sun or sunflower, cockfights and the like. There also were artists who compared Affandi’s works and their own.

While all these made for nice, good works, it was the works of artists who flatly denounced the great man’s personal shortcomings – his ego and sexual peccadilloes, including engaging in polygamy -- that stood out.  For these artists of the younger generation decided that a lofty reputation does not remove someone from public scrutiny.

Wara Anindyah (b. 1969) calls Affandi Si Bocah Tua Nakal , a naughty old lad or scoundrel, in her painting of the same title. She draws on his trademark images of the sun and a watermelon, but paints him feasting on a piece of the fruit in the presence of a reclining nude.

In Puisi Tanpa Kata, Musik Tanpa Bunyi (poetry without words, music without sound), Wara shows her usual eerie-looking figures, with a man playing the guitar for a woman, while a second woman stands as a solitary figure.

Astari Rasjid  (b. 1953)  also uses the pipe and sunflowers on her painted bronze bag, but, while the word “holy” carved on the front of the bag may indicate respect or admiration, the carved writing on the back --  “tihs” -- suggests the opposite.

Arahmaiani (b. 1961) presents two paintings, one featuring a portrait of a sad-looking woman, and the other showing a couple in an intimate embrace, titled Yang Terlupakan (the forgotten).

Playing up Affandi’s sexual gusto, Sigit Santosa (b. 1964) depicts a child’s fist with his fingers curled in the commonly understood sign for sexual intercourse, with the accompanying text Bung Ayo Bung (come on, mate), appearing as encouragement. In fact, the slogan is from the poet Chairil Anwar, and Affandi once used it for a poster during the fight for independence.

Hari Budiono (b. 1985) uses the same slogan to insinuate sexual stimulation in his painting of a woman massaging a man who is clearly enjoying the attention.   

Agapetus A Kristiandana (b. 1968) also refers to the same issue in his painting,  showing a stallion in the act of intercourse. Putut Wahyu Widodo (b. 1964) paints a woman figure with Affandi’s tattooed head popping out from her naked waist,

“Rubiyem, how are you?” is written on a plain blue canvas in the minimalist work by Ugo Untoro (b. 1970), a reference to Affandi’s second wife. It’s an issue also highlighted by Tisna Sanjaya (b. 1958), who fills his canvas with black, through which the contours of images are  visible: the face of a man and two smaller faces of  women. The names  Maryati and Rubiyem,  Affandi’s two wives, as well as the words “poligami” and  “Sunnah Rasul”, also appear.

Harshest of all are the words of Nasirun (b. 1965), whose painting declares Humanis yang Gagal (a failed humanist), and Eddie Hara’s poster of Affandi’s images with the blunt inscription The Hero is Dead. Affandi was [a] Punk.

This is probably the first time there has been an open critique of the artist, a phenomenon that researchers might want to explore further. For now, Sunaryo’s painting titled Kembali ke Laptop (Back to my Laptop), featuring Sunaryo himself in vibrant red separated by a laptop from Affandi’s portrait on a gray background, and  advocating the wisdom of Mahatma Gandhi, may be a fitting summary: The past is indeed with us, but we were not there since  we are in the here and now.

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