People tend to think of Bali as this artistic paradise, with Ubud as the centre of all things art-related.  Well, it is and at the same time it isn’t.  Yes, Bali is teaming with creativity in the sense that the lifestyle is centred around art.  It’s the norm for children to grow up knowing how to dance, or how to carve wood, or how to paint.  Even the poorest houses in a village have intricate carvings twining their way across the ceilings.  However, it’s rare to see anything ‘new’ sprouting out from this age-old tradition of art.  Mundane buddhas, flowers, birds fill the canvases of galleries.  It is more accurate to say that Bali is filled with skilled craftsmen who aim to sell their work rather than create something new.  However, there are those rare few who challenge such ways and I was fortunate enough to become friends with them.  In particular, Aji’s work provoked me to start thinking about my apathetic state.  This summer 2011, Aji is going to the States to recreate a contemporary Balinese cremation at the Burning Man Festival.

Seri Pewaris Waktu 5, Made Aswino Aji, 2006 
www.sikagallery.com 

10 months in Bali has left me both drained and renewed.  Bali is a paradox; an island of love and hate, peace and battles, creativity and stagnation.  At the end of the day, you have to decide what you want to take from it.  But—it is all there for the taking, the good and the bad.  This plays in well with the Balinese belief of balance and acceptance of evil; there can be no good if there is no bad.

I began my time in Bali artistically drained and dead.  I arrived with preconceived expectations and an over-reliance on eBay to provide me with materials for my sculptures.  How was I to create sculptures if I couldn’t get 1500 ladybirds delivered in a cardboard box to my doorstep?  Bali may have almost everything, but you have to search for it.  My first mistake was trying to go back to painting simply because it was the most convenient thing to do.  That caused me to spiral further into a state of non-productivity.  I was immobile most of the time because I didn’t know how to ride a motorbike, I didn’t want to haggle with cabs to get me places and I didn’t know anybody there.  Frankly, I was downright miserable.

After 3 months of basically nothing, I was starting to suffocate and finally, one night, I thought ‘fuck this’ and grabbed the keys to the rented motorbike of my former boss and rode out into the night at 1am.  The streets were empty and I whizzed along on that beat up motorbike, both terrified and exhilarated.  It was the beginning of my liberation.  

Everything followed from that day.  I biked to a local cement and steel sculpture ‘studio’ (I say studio for lack of better word.  Studio sound snazzy.  This was pure grunge.  I suppose workshop is more appropriate) and began an apprenticeship with local Balinese pande (pande basically means steel worker/craftsman in Balinese.  Interesting fact: traditionally, pande were thought to have magical powers because of their ability to manipulate steel).  My hands became callused and I learnt how to bend industrial steel rods with a simple hand tool called a lesser.  I bought 22 kilos of duk, a black palm fibre resembling hair, metres and metres of white cloth, and turned a friend’s bathroom into what looked like an alien egg den by the end of it.  After just below 2 months, I had enough pieces for a show at Sika Gallery, the most contemporary art gallery in Ubud.

Bending steel at the workshop.  Photo by Dave Smithson, 2010.

During the preparation for my senior show for my bachelor’s degree, I remember a friend saying ‘you never lose, only learn’ and handing out a sheet to every fellow art-major senior with his list of ‘Win and Learn’ including a section for us to use as well.  If you knew this friend, you would laugh. It was more of a joke than any profound musing but, in the spirit of win and learn, here’s my list for Bali.

Win.

1) A solo exhibition at a renown gallery.  

2) I am now an experienced (automatic) motorbike rider.  First steps to owning a vintage Honda GL-Pro.

3) I can bend steel with my bare hands, baby.  

4) I now have teaching experience, both in teaching art and in teaching French.

5) An amazing group of friends.

Learn.

1) Go with the flow.  Don’t rely on what you knew before; adjust, adapt.  If eBay and power tools aren’t around, improvise, go with local methods.  

2) Do not work for estranged married couples.

3) Do not drink gin straight and then drive at 60km/h down the wrong side of the road on a motorbike at midnight after heavy rain.

4) Time goes by fast.  Start early, don’t procrastinate.  And cherish the moments that you have, because the next thing you know, you’ll be on that plane leaving it all behind.

Infertile, is constructed from a steel frame, white cloth and duk fiber and represents a gigantic female reproductive organ. It must be noted that Valerie’s choices of materials are of much significance to the theme of the exhibition. In this case, fine white cotton cloth, which is used in many Asian cultures in the wrapping and preparation of dead bodies during the final rites of passage. Infertile, the 100 x 200 x 150 cm sculpture, reclines gently against a wall, its ‘lips’ casually parted and focused upward towards the viewer. With its white flowing form it initially appears aesthetically warm and inviting; however, on closer inspection and contemplation it may repel the observer. The fine cotton cloth recreates a soft, sensuous skin tone, the long strands of black fiber appear as pubic hair, the vagina is slightly open, perhaps almost tempting, however when we venture further inside we are confronted by a revolting barrier. Within the ‘lips’ the inner linings are covered with a membrane of coarse grey concrete, as opposed to the natural pink of the walls of the vagina. Our vision immediately becomes obstructed and we are prevented further entry into the ‘inner sanctum’. There is a sense that this structure is not at all a nurturing environment, yet it is a sterile organ. The ‘cancerous’ concrete growth thwarts reproduction; the female (Mother Gaia) has become infertile.