LOCATING MATAHATI
BY ADELINE OOI & WONG HOY CHEONG

MATAHATI has come a long way.

The collective was formed in the late 1980s by a group  of friends and classmates who saw the advantages and convenience of banding together to share experiences, and more importantly, to share expenses and organizational work in exhibition making. They had their first exhibition as a loose collective in 1993.

Why “loose”? With hardly any precedence of such an endeavour, except for Anak Alam1, MATAHATI had no clear models to draw from. And unlike many collectives, MATAHATI did not begin with ideological or easthetic propositions, or a manifesto as such. Even as they worked together, it was imperative for them to also strike out in their own directions as individuals, and develop their own strategies and careers. While most collectives would have quickly disintegrated under such circumstances, MATAHATI survived; and this was in part due to an underlying laissez-faire, naiveté, and amorphousness which ultimately became their strength, and have held them together for over 15 years with 19 exhibitions and projects to their name. Very few collectives can claim that.

MATAHATI emerged during a difficult and transitional time in Malaysia. The 1980s saw a society that had become more stifling, conservative and smug. The country went through cultural, economic, political and judicial crises one after another. Art and education were petrifying under the National Cultural Policy and purist interpretations in the name of Islam2. This narrowing of cultural and political spaces, thus individual spaces, was ultimately “a response on the part of the ruling elites to a fragmentation [was] a manifestation of the arrival of the middle class and their challenge to the cultural vision of the ruling class.”3

But beyond middle-class contestations was the challenge posed by the rise of a relatively new social class – an urban young Malay under-employed working class as a result of rural-urban migration. In popular culture, “angst” became very evident in their lifestyles, dressing, music and language. The emergence of rock, punk and street cultures became signs of defiance and empowerment against the failed expectations of glamour and abundance propagated by the media. In Kuala Lumpur, Merdeka Square4 on weekends and shopping malls became the focal point of literally thousands of males and females from mainly urban Malay working class. At these places, they congregated and socialised before the Government accused, harassed and even detained them for loitering and decadence. The previous antagonisms, drawn along lines for decades, were being replaced by intra-ethnic divisions between the new Malay bourgeoisie or Melayu Baru (New Malays)5 and the working class, the powerful elite and the marginalised.

It is in this context of rupture and transformation that MATAHATI needs to be situated and understood. The members of MATAHATI, all from working class backgrounds, moved from rural Malaysia to Kuala Lumpur. In college, they experienced the shifts to an increasingly pedantic art education. In response, they sported long hair; listened to heavy metal music and led bohemian lifestyles; revived the figure and nude in expressionistic states; and evoked urgent personal and social angst in their works. They worked across disciplines: visual art, theatre/performance and film. In many ways, MATAHATI epitomised the dislocation of a new urban youth, particularly Malay youth, trying to find footing and location in a fragmented and globalizing urban landscape. It is of no surprise that MATAHATI, in their publicity group photographs, presented themselves much like a rock-band.

Unlike artists of previous generations who had singular vision in their practice, often informed by modernist notions of a linearity of progress, the MATAHATI artists opted for a multiplicity of media, styles and content. They belong to a generation where the splintering of worldviews, experiences and practice were becoming the norm. Having grown up in kampung (village) environments, they are inextricably tied to place and tradition. At the same time, they are also worldly, urbane and informed. A cursory examination of their practices will reveal this splintering.

Bayu Utomo Radjikin, Ahmad Fuad Osman and Masnoor Ramli have depicted themselves or imaginations of themselves as pahlawan  (warrior) in baju Melayu (Malay traditional dress) donning tanjak (traditional headdress usually associated with ceremonies, and with warriors and heroes). Often, these figure strike heroic poses drawn from silat (Malay martial arts). HAmir Soib @ Mohamed has explored Jawi (written Malay using Arabic calligraphy and phonetics) on the surface of an oversized baju Melayu. And Ahmad Shukri Mohamed has consistently explored batik as both design and surface.

On the other hand, MATAHATI artists also drew substantially from more contemporary, cosmopolitan experiences as well as international developments in art. The resurrection of the figure, expressionistic and heightened states, and machismo echo the neo-expressionists of the 1980s. Their use of popular and oftentimes playful images draws from media and pop-oriented art from the 1960s to the 90s. Time magazine, London tube stations, ninja turtles and super heroes, bar-codes; mundane everyday experiences like frying onions and cutting hair all became possibilities for content and imagery. The social and political also constituted a large part of their visual concerns with issues such as conflicts in Bosnia or Iraq, Reformasi6, child abuse, and the environment – and this has often been how MATAHATI is identified.

The vicissitudes of content, media and styles; the shifts between drawing from traditional Malay-Muslim iconographies and the contemporary; the urban and the fluid move from painting to video, while clearly ensconced in visual art practices of Malaysia today, were promulgated and made apparent by MATAHATI as early as the 1990s. However, MATAHATI has neither been ideological nor political in their practice; on the contrary, they are humanists. The cleavages and multiplicity that are evident in their works are symptomatic of the fragmented times we live in; dislocation within localities.

One of the facets of MATAHATI, which has yet to be documented, is their existence as a group, a collective. Writings have usually discussed MATAHATI in terms of its individual members rather than its overarching role in outreach and carving out new territories, its location within a wider context of other artists’ collectives in Southeast Asia.

MATAHATI’s alliance is based not on objectives; rather, right from its inception, it opted for a ‘pick and mix’ approach. Like many artist groups around the Southeast Asian region, MATAHATI’s fellowship is bound by a deep friendship sealed during college days at Institut Teknologi MARA (ITM), now know as UiTM. With 15 years of track record, MATAHATI is one of the longest running collectives in the region. Located within the context of short-lived artist initiatives, MATAHATI’s longevity has become something of an anomaly.

One of the reason for this is MATAHATI’s seemingly seamless transition from an “indie” or “underground” group to its mainstream acceptance. Many of their earlier efforts, which began within the alternative realm, are now central to the contemporary Malaysian voice. Their solo careers have flourished, with sold-out exhibitions at Kuala Lumpur’s private galleries, and at national and regional institutions. Over the years, the members of  MATAHATI have also won numerous awards and recognitions, representing Malaysia at international exhibitions and art events.

The inevitability of hard times after art school often compels artists to seek strength in numbers. Artist group or collectives are formed as support structures. In Philippines, younger group such as Manila-based Surrounded By Water (SBW), which consisted of fifteen firm friends, also met during their time at University of the Philippines (UP). Unfortunately, they could not sustain their gallery space and it shut down in 2003. Despite this, the SBW artists were successful in their attempt to carve new territories of their own. Their works were witty summaries of life in Metro Manila – animated, raw yet pulsating, and in varying degrees, echoed the unimaginable inequity of their environment. Representing a distinct energy in contemporary Filipino art-making, the SBW artists – namely Wire Tuazon, Geraldine Javier, Yasmin Sison-Ching, Jayson Oliveria- like MATAHATI, are now enjoying huge solo successes, garnering numerous awards and acclaim.

Similarly, in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, Kelompok Seni Rupa JENDELA7, or art group, began their journey together at art school in Yogyakarta. Originating in West Sumatra, the five artists of JENDELA drew from their Minangkabau heritage, language and aphorisms, and differentiated themselves from the predominantly figurative-based and socio-politically driven Indonesian art context, commonly know as “Jogja surreal”. Existing on the margins in the heartland of Java has propelled them to the forefront of contemporary Indonesian art. Their distinctive visual language – using mark-making, still life and landscape forms to convey an array of concerns- has become so highly sought after that their visual strategy has been recognized as a “style”, adopted and appropriated by artists in different contexts.

Unlike their predecessors, HATAHATI and its current counterpart in the region tend to steer clear of manifestos, mission vision and political ideologies. Earlier artist group in the 1950s that were influenced by the sanggar8 model such as Sanggar Seniman Indonesia  (SIM), led by Sudjojono; and Sanggar Pelukis Rakyat led by Hendra Gunawan and Affandi, maintained close ties with political parties such as Partai Komunis Indonesia (PKI) or The Indonesian Communist Party. During the purges of Suharto’s New Order regime, numerous sanggar were disbanded, their member imprisoned or killed.

In the 1970s, new artist group emerged in response to the socio-political ferment around the region. The artists from Gerakan Seni Rupa Baru (GSRB) in Indonesia were strident critics of the New Order regime. They sought alternative media and expressions to make art relevant to the people during an era when all forms of cultural life were depoliticized. Their expressions were considered radical and controversial, visually and politically, and after repeated run-ins with authorities as well as pressure from the art community, GSRB disbanded at the close of the 1970s.Running to a parallel vein, Filipino artist groups were also closely linked with their history of struggle and revolution. From the declaration of Martial Law until the 1990s, group like Kaisahan (Unity), Nagkakaisang Progresibong  Artista at Artitekto (NPAA) or United Progressive Artists and Architects, Salingpusa, Sanggawa, The Black Artists of Asia, and Kasibulan expressed powerful commentaries on socio-political injustices of  Philippines. Because of the problem arising from group dynamics, the artists’ changing vision differing ideologies, professional jealousy, personal disagreements and various factors, a number of these artist group have since fallen apart.

In this millennium, new models of artist groups in varying forms and configurations have emerged. The Artists from Mes56 in Yogyakarta are championing photography as a serious medium in visual art. Jakarta-based ruangrupa9 promotes new media and urban visual culture by initiating research and process-oriented projects involving university students, street artists, designers and filmmakers, ruangrupa is also widely known for “O.K. Video!”, a biennial video art festival involving screenings, talks and workshop. In the Philippines, ANINO collective, a group of multi-media artists dedicated to popularizing the art of shadow play, works on outreach education programmes with children through simple story-telling method.

There is a marked difference in term of thrust between the earlier groups and current  groups of the new millennium. In many ways, these new alliances, consisting of younger artists, are more cynical if pragmatic in their outlook. They have seen how their predecessors have failed in the past and understand the sobering realities of living in a state of flux. In place of the grand statements and overt oppositional critiques, their concerns are more diverse and micro in nature. Their struggle lies in the need to delineate personal spaces to convey their multifarious interests and obsessions, develop new structures and conventions to give currency to their art practice, and to redefine themselves as artists.

This DIY (do-it-yourself) spirit is common among art communities in Southeast Asia. Given the region’s weak infrastructure for the arts and general lack of national support, artists and private bodies have taken it upon themselves to fill in the ‘gap’ with independent initiatives and programmes to introduce new approaches and re-energise their respective communities. Given the context of the dominant commercial art setting and ineffectual public institutions/programmes, one of the strongest driving aims behind contemporary artist groups is to propose a change in the art community by providing more freedom for fellow artist to realize their ideas, to democratize and encourage the plurality of expressions.

The path chosen by MATAHATI is not so different from other contemporary collectives in the region. Perhaps one of the contributing factors behind MATAHATI’s longevity is due to their belief that they would only work on “projects we like and what we can agree on as a group”. Of late, the scope of MATAHATI’s interest has extended beyond making and exhibiting their own art. Recent projects such as Project MAGER have brought MATAHATI to Indonesia and the Philippines, to observe, learn and initiate exchange with art communities in the Southeast Asian region. In this project, MATAHATI collaborated with artist groups Gelaran Budaya from Yogyakarta and Anting-Anting from the Philippines on mural projects, group exhibitions and artist talks in their respective cities and here in Kuala Lumpur.

MATAHATI is firmly committed to upholding their role as active social actor in the art community in Malaysia. They are concerned with issues such as infrastructure and support, and providing platforms for younger artist to explore new directions in their practice. In early 2007, they set up ArtTriangle Foundation and HOUSE OF MATAHATI (HOM), which includes an office, gallery and studio programmes for young artist to work for a period of time. The foundation, with funds raised from an exhibition of local and regional artists, intends to provide grants for artists’ projects, funds for medical emergencies, as well as public projects and research.

Very few collectives have this “nobility” but perhaps, this is also due to their success as individual and as a group. In the region, other collectives do not have that level of acceptance and recognition in their own communities. For one, MATAHATI has outlived many of the other collectives due to their friendship and persistence. Moreover, the Malaysian art community is small and MATAHATI was about the only collective until recent years. The situation was and is different in the rest of Southeast Asia, For instance, in Indonesia and the Philippines, the art scenes are more diverse and far more competitive. There are many “centres” with competing ideas and school of thought. In Indonesia, art centres and collectives exist in Jakarta, Bandung, Yogyakarta, and Bali. Similarly, the Philippines have artist communities in Manila, Baguio, and Cebu. And due to this plurality of voices and regional concerns, many of the group speak only to their target audience; this also means that there will be opposition and disagreements from the others. MATAHATI is exempt from such a milieu.

The success of MATAHATI is perhaps also due to the easy absorption of oppositional voices into the mainstream since such voices have into the mainstream since such voices have little camaraderie in the Malaysian society, in addition to the dominance of Malay worldviews and culture where notions of  sopan-santun (courteous and polite), maruah (honour) and muafakat (consensus) are paramount. Ruptures are often dismissed as bukan budaya kita (not our culture) and kurang ajar (bad upbringing, lacking education and understanding of cultural norms). This explains why MATAHATI artist are seen as the abang (elder brother) of the art community.

That MATAHATI has achieved much recognition and success and has been absorbed into the mainstream has given them a newfound confidence to explore uncharted possibilities and financially support what it is doing now. It is timely to have a survey show of MATAHATI and its works. It is important for both the artists and the public to critically re-evaluate their work as individuals, to examine their direction and development as a group, and how they have grow and fared within the context of Malaysia, the region and a globalizing world.

MATAHATI has set the example and tone for other collectives in Malaysia. Despite an environment that is not conducive, it has survived, and survived well. According to them, while times and conditions have changed, they have remained the same and “still talk the same language”.