The grey area between art and vandalism in Indonesian street art
Written by Nikita Purnama and Olive Nabila | Read in Indonesian
It all started with the authorities’ hunt for the artist behind the “Jokowi: 404 Not Found” mural. Next thing we know, the government is cracking down on “critical” murals, removing any mural that it deemed posing a threat to the state of affairs in the area or the country.
The news opened up a debacle about democracy and self expression.
“If it is vandalism, why are the murals beside “Jokowi: 404 Not Found” not removed as well?” a Twitter user responded. First of all, it is important to understand how the street art community sees vandalism in relation to the work.
Vandalism, or the act of deliberate destruction or damage on public or private property, is seen as an act of crime in many countries. However, history has seen how vandalism managed to have a place in art, or rather be considered to have an artistic aspect. During the Paris Commune in 1871, Gustave Courbet, then president of the Federation of Artists, toppled the statue of Napoleon Bonaparte from the Vendôme Column. The painter declared:
“As the Vendôme column is a monument devoid of any artistic value, whose expression tends to perpetuate the ideas of war and conquest from the imperial dynasty, but that reject the sentiment of a republican nation, citizen Courbet declares that the government of National Defense should allow him to dismantle this column.”
In his personal defense, the political content of the statue overpowered its artistic purposes which made its presence contradictory to the republican sentiment of the people at that time. In this context, it is clear that Coubert took the act of vandalism to express an idea that he thought was right at the time. This is considered as one of the earliest artistic forms of vandalism.
In Indonesia, vandalistic art has always been a part of the making of the nation. During the colonial period, people were doing vandalistic art, such as graffiti of encouraging words, murals that called on people to fight back, as well as posters in public spaces. Historian Abel Jatayu In his Instagram post showed traces of vandalistic street art by Indonesians, specifically in Salatiga, during the colonial period.
“Since the Dutch military aggressions I and II, it turns out that the people of Salatiga have been active in using urban spaces to voice their concerns and take part in the process towards complete independence,” he wrote. He posted pictures of burnt down buildings in the city which were destroyed on purpose so that when the Dutch settled in, they would not be able to make use of the facilities. There were also shots of stencil posters slapped on walls and graffiti calling on people to fight against the oppressors.
“Personally, I think that vandalism is the soul of street art,” said Alodia Yap, a Salatiga-based artist who has been a part of the street art scene for the last five years. According to her, vandalism is embedded in street art in terms of where and how it is made. The fact that it occupies spaces and facilities owned by the public or state already makes street art vandalistic. However, the grey area comes when the discussion shifts to whether street art signifies vandalism.
Street art is an umbrella term for all forms of unofficial or independent artworks which are created in public spaces for visibility. The most common forms are probably murals, which are artworks painted or applied directly on the wall, and graffiti, which are words or texts applied on walls or any public surface. However, some street art takes the form of art installations. Banksy, for example, sometimes incorporates other props in his murals.
The reason why public spaces become the preferable place for this kind of art is because the creator wants people to see their art and to be aware of their existence. Godmatter, a Bandung-based visual artist, told TFR that public art is the kind of art that is the closest to the public. “To see other forms of art, the public has to go into the white cube (gallery/museum), unlike street art that comes to the public and becomes what we see on a daily basis,” he said.
No matter what the art conveys, the beholders will always have different takes on it. Other examples can be found in popular street artists who have entered galleries or get sponsored by state institutions or private companies. Godmatter explained, “Those artists must have had a regulation they used to fight against when they decided to go for street art.” In his observation, those institutions have the tendency to dismiss an artist’s process before they made a name for themselves. Only when the artists grew in popularity that these parties would start supporting them.
He also noticed that there is a disparity in terms of support for certain ideas represented in the artworks. “It seems that the ideas which are considered ‘good’, which are not up for erasure, are the ones that don’t disturb the order between the authorities and the general public,” he concluded. If a mural embodies an idea that does not disturb the existing order, the authorities tend to just let them be. On the contrary, when the idea embedded in the work did as much as criticising the existing order, the existence of the artwork is considered bad.
This observation mirrors the reality showcased by the recent cover-up of murals in several locations. In Yogyakarta, the “Dibungkam” (Silenced) mural on the Kewek bridge was covered up because it was considered “provocative” by the authorities. They used the existing bylaw on public order as the basis.
Yogyakarta is known as a city that welcomes murals in public spaces, as shown in the Taman Sari area. The walls, which used to be plain and dirty, are now painted in all kinds of murals and graffiti by 30 local and international street artists. The project is supported by the local community as well as the regional government as a rejuvenation programme. Unlike the graffiti on Kewek bridge, the murals and graffiti donning the public walls of Taman Sari are not considered a threat.
This also signifies the place of street art in Indonesian urban landscape as both decoration and visual pollution. What marks the difference between the two is none, as the area between the two is grey.
Indonesian law does not provide a clear definition of vandalism, which creates ambiguity. The Great Dictionary of Indonesian Language (KBBI) defines vandalism as damaging and destructing artworks and other valuables or violent and vicious destruction. Meanwhile, the act of doodling/writing/painting on walls does mark the medium, but still leaves the functions intact.
In regulations, murals or graffiti are categorised as minor crimes, namely violations of the existing order. The Penal Code (KUHP) is used by the authorities to handle such cases. In Yogyakarta, the authorities use Yogyakarta City Bylaw No.15/2018 on Public Order and Public Peace. The two regulations do not use the word vandalism, but “coret-mencoret” (scribbling/doodling).
Article 489 paragraph (1) of the Penal Code is often used to deal with vandal cases, such as applied to the perpetrators of MRT vandalism. The article states that anyone committing “mischief” on any person or property that imposes danger, harm, or distress can be fined no more than Rp250,000. R. Soesilo calls this article “artikel keranjang” (basket article) because any act that imposes danger, harm, or distress can be subjected to this article. In general, the harm caused by this kind of crime is the renovation cost.
Article 20 of Yogyakarta City Bylaw No.15/2018 prohibits people from doodling on cultural heritage buildings, public facilities, roads, buildings and vehicles/property belonging to other people, unless they have obtained permission from the owner. The elucidation of Article 20 explains that doodling activity is an act of damaging and/or polluting a property using paint or similar materials.
Even Banksy, (arguably) the most established street artist in the world, is a street artist with anti-war, anti-capitalism and anti-establishment messages embedded in his works. Back in the 1990s, he was constantly playing cat and mouse with the authorities. This period was allegedly around the time he shifted to stencil to shorten his working time to avoid getting caught. Today, his artworks are worth millions of dollars. Even when the establishments he is fighting against are still trying to find a way to drag him down, he does not cease to “vandalise” public property with his critics.
Alodia found that the Indonesian cities landscape and street art has an on-off relationship. “When the artwork offends the authority, somehow it violates the existing regulation,” she observed, “but when it brings pride to the city and beautifies the city, the authorities often claim that they nurture the local street artists.”
She told TFR about the time when a fellow street artist in Salatiga was arrested by the police and treated in an inhumane way due to a “bad” artwork. Not long after, the tourist board reached out to their community, expressing its willingness to facilitate street art activities in the city. It is impossible to ignore such a glaring paradox. It is as if people forgot that historically, when it imbues an idea, “street art becomes a medium for the people who don’t have the means to voice their opinions.”
For her, the way that the authorities are responding to these street artists expressing themselves and their ideas is sowing the seeds of fear. In the media, the artists are tagged “dicari” (wanted) or, like what happened to her fellow artist, “picked up at night” and “beaten up”. “It makes me think, ‘oh, they can do this to you just for drawing’,” she pondered, “they want us when we facilitate their ideas, but they won’t accept us for our critical side.”
Godmatter highlights that what was worrisome about the erasure is not the erasure itself, as covering each other’s artwork is a common practice among street artists. What is worrisome is the censorship of the artists’ ideas, a form of repression to their self-expression. However, he found it counterproductive to point fingers. “I understand that the authorities are just doing their job, but it is impossible not to expect any reaction,” the Bandung-based artist mused.
He prefers building a two-way communication in response to this kind of fallout, but he also acknowledges that it becomes more complex when one party is being coercive. Being coercive to the people reacting to the repression they experience counters everything that the country’s independence is meant to be. The more repressed a society is, the stronger the reaction would be. “By erasing them, the murals which were probably considered as visual pollutants by some now have managed to creep into their sub-consciousness as a form of resistance.”