BESIDES ENJOYING the atmosphere at the National Monument (Monas) and touring around the area, we could also appreciate works of photography exhibited at the entrance to the monument on February 1 – 28, 2009. As I encountered the works in such a public space, my imagination carried me to an atmosphere of ‘excitement’ that the whole project had succeeded to capture. It was not merely the excitement due to the large number of people whose group picture was exhibited there, and neither was it due to the numerous visitors to Monas whose various poses had been captured in these pictures. Rather, I imagined the complexity of the interactions that might have taken place during the project—that was precisely the atmosphere of the ‘excitement’ that immediately caught my imagination as I looked at the pictures that were on display there (Picture 1).

A big board of around 2x7 m2 in size was separated into three parts. The first part, on the left, contained a group picture: 32 men in two lines, posing with Monas at the background (Picture 2). They took an unassuming pose; hands in their pockets or with drooped arms, vague smiles on some of the faces. Several other objects are also on the picture. There is nothing special in the picture itself.

Moving to the right, one encountered the second part of the series of pictures. There are 128 postcard-size pictures, each with a different set of people with unique poses (Picture 3.1 – 3.10). Most of them are interacting with Monas: e.g. lighting their cigarettes with the ‘fire’ at the top of the monument, leaning against the monument, and various other poses created as a play of the distortive effect due to the angle taken for the picture. This part of the series was captivating, immediately bringing my imagination to the pleasure that it must have brought when the pictures were taken. I thought about the three children who perhaps came to Monas for the first time. After climbing to the top of the monument, they found out that they could actually take a picture together with the monument, with their hands touching the Monas ‘fire’ or pretending to sit on the base. These were pictures that were out of the ordinary, and the children must have been happy to find out that they could stand as tall as the monument—which in reality is 137 meter tall. It was such scenes—which might have taken place as various visitors to the monument took their pictures—that crossed my mind and might be summed up in one word: joy.

Moving further to the right, one stood face to face with the final part of the display: a text that accompanied the works. It turned out that the exhibition was a result of the Public Art Workshop, a part of the Battle Zone program, one of the programs in the series of events held in relation to the Jakarta Biennale XIII 2009, held by the Jakarta Arts Council. The workshop had the objective to respond to the increasingly marginalized existence of the public space in Jakarta, and to create new spaces that did not only mean physical spaces but also spaces of ideas.

Jakarta Biennale XIII 2009 indeed carried the grand theme of the “area” that had turned into an “arena.” The intention was to bring to the fore the issue of urban spaces whose function had changed or had turned into ‘a fighting arena’ in which many differing interests were at play. Many artists then discussed and debated about these different problems and discourses in workshops and during the curatorial processes, resulting in ideas that were presented in art works exhibited in public spaces, focusing on the interaction with the people; the general public who might not have the habit of going to art exhibitions in art galleries. The artists also create public art works with an immediate link with the location where the art works were to be presented. The ‘arena’ where the battle took place in Jakarta Biennale XIII 2009, and in which the artists were involved, was Jakarta, the dynamic capital city where the boundaries between the commercial and the non-commercial, as well as between the public and the private, had become so blurred.

As I observed the photography project in Monas, I thus tried to examine the following issues: What kind of story about Monas did the work try to present? How did the different groups of society interact at the site of this historical monument?


VISITING MONAS
As one of the public spaces and tourist destinations in Jakarta, Monas did not escape the notice of one of the participant-artists of the Jakarta Biennale XIII 2009. It was Daniel Kampua, a photographer and graduate from the Jakarta Institute of the Arts (IKJ), who was behind the work titled “Monas dan Kita” (Monas and Us). Daniel, who for as long as he lived had been living in Jakarta, started to become interested in the historical site since 2007. Previously, Daniel did not take much notice of the National Monument.

Initially, the historical monument built on an 80 hectare site was dedicated to commemorate the Indonesian struggle during the independence revolution. Today, Monas catches the interest of 700 to 1.000 visitors a day. The Monas area looks green, with many well-arranged and well-maintained plants and trees. There is a vast open space where people can enjoy a picnic, sit on the park, or climb the monument to appreciate a view on Jakarta from a height of more than 100 meter. With its status as the icon of the capital city, Monas enjoys further fame and receives increasingly more visitors.

If previously Monas was open to public and easily accessed, now it is surrounded by tall iron fences. Access to its ground becomes rather difficult and visitors that are not yet familiar with the area might become disorientated easily. Indeed, Monas of today is cleaner and seems better maintained. As a public space that must ideally be friendly to its visitors, however, Monas should accommodate better the needs of visitors who wish to enter and exit the site easily.

In the past, Daniel Kampua was never disturbed by news about the changes and by the discourses that were for and against the changes in the area of Monas. It was only two years ago that he made time to visit Monas, with the idea of making a photographic essay about the historical monument. Only then did he find out about the variety of activities that visitors did when they visited the site. Arrived in groups large and small, visitors to Monas usually come to do sport, enjoy some recreational activity or intimate moments with lovers, or even get drunk. Apparently, although it has already been fenced off with tall iron enclosure, people from all walks of life still come and visit the site, with a range of different reasons.

One can say that the increasing popularity that Monas enjoys today is due to the fact that some Jakarta citizens already mourn the lack of open public space like parks and gardens. Meanwhile, for people living outside Jakarta, it seems that a visit to the capital will not be complete without a peek at Monas and Ancol, including a trip to the Dunia Fantasi (Fantasy World).

What do we do, then, when we are on a vacation, on a trip somewhere? Certainly we will take pictures, to remember and affirm our experience as a tourist. It is there that the first interaction takes place and photography plays its role.

The effort to take pictures and make the moments everlasting is the one thing that invariably connects the visitors’ attitude with photography. The reason is obvious—i.e. to record the moment—as the defining characteristic of a work of photography is its ability to freeze the moment, the space, and time. A piece of work of photography can also serve as a legitimate proof that an event has taken place and confirms that the people whose pictures have been recorded in the photo were indeed there, in that place and time when the camera diaphragm was open for a fraction of a second. The picture would eventually last longer than the event or the people it has recorded.

By having their pictures taken at Monas, the visitors would, first of all, own a proof of their presence and experience at the place—and therefore, if they look at the pictures several years later, they would feel that they somehow ‘own’ a piece of the past. Second, by having their pictures taken with Monas, the visitors feel that they have interacted with the monument. Monas is no longer a mere commemorative monument that they have once visited. Rather, it becomes a piece of their own, something that they could ‘touch’, ‘hug’, or ‘relied’ and ‘sit’ upon.

Susan Sontag once said that for the general public photography has the function to defend oneself from anxiety and also as a tool for power.[1] Photography is used as a means to affirm one’s ownership of a new site or a travel destination that they have visited—just as photography can confirm one’s ownership of the past. Eventually, perhaps the visitors would prefer to seek pictures rather than the experience itself, so much so that photography is seen as a means to experience something.

Whatever feelings they have while travelling, the travelers will usually hide feelings of sadness and show only joy. Further observation on a picture will not reveal the hidden mixed feelings, as the photo will only show what is on the surface. A piece of work of photography will provide a mental depiction about something, but the picture will always conceal more than it reveals. That was why I could only imagine the pleasure that was involved in the process as I observed the pictures of the visitors to Monas that were on display in this photography project.


VISITORS AND THE ITINERANT PHOTOGRAPHERS AT MONAS
All visitors would want to affirm their experience and own a piece of reality of the experience they had at Monas. Not all of them, however, have their own camera—but they do not have to worry because the itinerant photographers will always be there, ready to take their pictures.

The itinerant photographers have been there for long. The ‘predecessors’ of these photographers were those who sold their service and ‘initiated’ the venture as itinerant photographers at Monas since the seventies. Seeing the potential business opportunity, more photographers came and sold their services there. Capturing the visitors’ moments using a simple pocket camera armed with a printer, the itinerant photographers now set their price at Rp15,000.00 for a piece of printed picture. The works of these photographers vary in terms of the location and the visitors’ poses, but the most-frequently taken picture is the one with the visitors posing in front of the historical monument.

Here lies the role of the itinerant photographers in bringing about certain pictures for the visitors as they assume certain poses and positions. This is the second interaction. By becoming a mediator between the resulting picture and the visitors’ experience, a unique interaction takes place between the photographer and the one whose picture is taken.

Those who are familiar with photography will not be surprised by the distortive ability of the camera due to the selection of a certain angle. Here lies the difference between the way in which human eyes and camera lens perceive things. Human eyes are binocular in nature, resulting in a perception about depth and perspective. We are aware that there is a difference in our perception when we see an object with one eye closed. The position of the object will seem to shift a little when the same object is seen with the other eye. This is unlike the monocular camera lens, which can only create a sense of perspective and depth by the use of angle of view, lens, diaphragm, and speed.

With such considerations, it is understandable if photography can make us seem as tall as Monas or other tall buildings; it can also make us seem as big as a soaring tree. The different perceptions generated by human eyes and camera lens can enchant people due to the resulting distorted effect. It is such tricks that the itinerant photographers use to create unique images of interactions between the visitors to Monas and the monument itself; images that can only be created by the camera.


“MONAS AND US” AND DANIEL’S INTERACTION
Daniel pops up in the middle of the interactions between visitors to Monas and the itinerant photographers. As a photographer, Daniel’s interest in the itinerant photographers is predictable. This is where the third interaction lies, in which Daniel plays his role.

Daniel had approached the itinerant photographers for quite a while before the project commenced. This was not quite a difficult approach, as Daniel had known some of them previously. Daniel visited Monas whenever he had the time, perhaps twice or three times a week—simply to take a walk in the park, take pictures to satisfy his photographic eyes, or to daydream or observe the people passing by. Daniel had become a permanent fixture of sorts in Monas. It was understandable, therefore, that after the Public Art Workshop at the end of 2008, Daniel remembered his ‘ritual’ to visit Monas, and he mulled over what kind of public art that he could create there.

What Daniel eventually produced was a display that bound the whole photography project together: between his own picture that shows the itinerant photographers working at Monas, the pictures by the itinerant photographers showing the visitors to Monas, and the introductory text to the project. Daniel’s presence also meant that all the interactions that took place had been recorded: between Monas and its visitors, and between the itinerant photographers and the visitors to Monas. Without the group picture of the itinerant photographers that Daniel took, the exhibition would lose the essence regarding these interactions.

An Indian photographer, Rajesh Vora, had taken a similar effort in the exhibition of Another Asia (2008), which presented pictures taken by the Kulsum photo studio, an itinerant photo studio in India. Kulsum Studio’s main clients were the people of the lower classes in India, who with the studio were able to realize their dreams in the pictures.[2] With a mere 35 cent, they could have pictures of themselves with backgrounds that were popular in India: they could take pictures with the Bollywood actors, with religious paintings at the background, or surrounded by luxurious objects. All the studio’s props consisted of wooden boards with paintings of Bollywood actors, or a long screen with various religious paintings or scenery. Photography then created a space of interaction between the Bollywood actors and the Indian populace, and enabled people to relate with certain religious locations. In this context, photography can present something that was previously unimaginable: a confirmation of the past experience and pleasant optical illusions.

Unlike Vora, Daniel did not merely record the works by the itinerant photographers at Monas; he also took a group picture of those photographers. This was a crucial stage in this project. By taking the picture of the itinerant photographers in front of Monas, Daniel made them own the monument as well. Sontag said that photography had predatory nature. Photography can “harm” people by revealing themselves when they could not see themselves, and turning them into objects that can be owned symbolically. Symbolically, the visitors who have taken their pictures with Monas and interact with it own the monument, too. The itinerant photographers who are there on a daily basis have not ‘symbolically’ owned Monas because, as photographers, they always stand behind the camera.

When Daniel took the group picture of the itinerant photographers at Monas and presented them in picture, the photographers finally owned a piece of reality of their lives and interacted with Monas. A piece of picture that Daniel had produced became an important proof of the photographers’ existence and role in the area of Monas. Now, the visitors as well as the photographers have interacted with Monas. It was Daniel who provided the itinerant photographers with a symbolic ownership of Monas and the past.


BECOMING A TOURIST IN THE PAST OF AN ALIEN
Outside the overlapping interactions that have taken place and the affirmation of space and time, there was one thing that made the whole photography project of “Monas and Us” especially unique. The project turned out to have a number of positive impacts.

After the first picture-taking process, Daniel found out that the itinerant photographers actually formed two groups due to the competition on the field. This had an impact in the execution of the work. During the preparatory stages, Daniel heard ‘rumors’ that several photographers from one of the groups would not attend the photo-session. Daniel was therefore forced to reschedule the group picture.

Daniel said that after the exhibition there was an improved camaraderie between the two groups. He said that today the itinerant photographers liked to hang out together more often; the north group often came to visit the south group, and vice-versa. This was another interaction that had not been predicted before, serving like a bonus for Daniel’s hard work. Furthermore, Daniel’s photo-session was the first occasion that united the 32 photographers at one time, in one moment, and one place.

Another positive impact was in terms of the photographers’ income. An itinerant photographer at Monas told me that after the exhibition, his daily income increased by 20%. It turned out that many Monas visitors noticed Daniel’s display and asked to have their pictures taken, referring to the displayed pictures. Those who had previously no interest to have their pictures taken in front of Monas, or who were going to have one of the usual poses, were seemingly inspired by the funny and unique poses that other visitors had taken.[3]

Today, I imagine the existence of Daniel’s photography project in the next ten years. A picture will certainly last longer than the objects or situation it has captured. This is one of the strongest features of photography: it is able to record human transience. The picture can show us how we have changed since the photo was taken. Daniel told me that after the exhibition was closed, one of the itinerant photographers took home his work. Perhaps now the photographer is enjoying the work in the comfort of his room, using it to reminisce nostalgically and proudly with his children and grandchildren.

Observing Daniel Kampua’s entire photography project, I saw the ever-dynamic area of Monas, the problem of access and the harshness of the sun notwithstanding. It is an area that still captures the interest of many tourists from Indonesia and abroad. I witnessed the various interactions that had been depicted in the 2x7 m2 display; the camaraderie of the itinerant photographers and the joy of the tourists.

The photography project will last longer than the people whose pictures had been captured on the work, or than the original objective of the project itself. It will certainly last longer than the tension between the groups that had previously existed. The itinerant photographers might be hostile to one another and then made friends after the group picture. They might become hostile again later on. The moment of camaraderie, however, will last forever in the picture. By observing the display, we became a tourist in the past reality of the people in the picture, and therefore a part of the whole interactions that had taken place in Monas.



Jakarta, May 2009



IRMA CHANTILY was born in Jakarta on February 5, 1985. After graduating from the Department of Journalism, Padjadjaran University, she became a member of the teaching staff at the Department of Photography, Film and Television Faculty, Jakarta Institute of the Arts. Besides teaching, she participates in a variety of events and exhibitions, for example as the program coordinator and writer for the photo exhibition of “Mata Perempuan: Ruang Perempuan” (The Female Eyes: The Female Chamber); a writer for the Jakarta Biennale XIII 2009 website; and a volunteer for the V Film Festival 2009. She now works as a freelance in a variety of art and cultural events.