Sexy Killers WatchDoc Documentary Nobar Malang

“Sexy Killers: a Documentary”; WatchDoc Documentary

Recently a lot of people have been talking about this one documentary film. The Blue Indonesia Expedition team and production house WatchDoc Documentary say they’ve been keen to make the final installment in the series based on their recent year-long expedition traveling throughout Indonesia. After producing many films in the series as a result of their expedition, including films such as Samin vs Cement (2015), Kala Benoa (2015), The Mahuzes (2015), Asymmetric (2018) and many others, comes the latest most talked about addition, Sexy Killers: a Documentary (2019). (Read more at “Review ‘Sexy Killers’, Film dan Isu Terseksi Tahun Ini” Kompasiana 15 April 2019)


The full movie is now available here.


Featured image comes from https://www.instagram.com/watchdoc_insta/.

Lihat juga Hari Sexy Killers Sedunia,  Sexy Killers coal documentary goes viralIndramayu halts ‘Sexy Killers’ screening for alleged hate speech, Documentary film Sexy Killers probes Indonesian candidates’ ties to Big CoalIn ‘Sexy Killers,’ journos probe Indonesian candidates’ ties to Big Coal

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Asimetris

“Asymmetric” (Asimetris) – WatchDoc Image Documentaries Trailer

This is the trailer for “Asymmetric” (Asimetris), the ninth documentary film in the ground-breaking Blue Indonesia Expedition series (Ekspedisi Indonesia Biru) on contemporary Indonesia following the acclaimed documentaries:

1. Samin vs Semen
2. Kala Benoa
3. The Mahuzes
4. Baduy
5. Kasepuhan Ciptagelar
6. Lewa di Lembata
7. Huhate
8. Gorontalo Baik

The whole film will be uploaded this coming March.

Source: WatchDoc Image Documentaries


The full movie is now available here.

Project 1 Supermarket Fantasy World Exhibition 1987

The Art of Liberation & The Liberation of Art

Manifesto of the New Art Movement 1987

1987 Manifesto of the New Art Movement

THE ART OF LIBERATION
THE LIBERATION OF ART

The art of liberation is an approach to expression that is grounded in an awareness of the need for the liberation of the definition of art. The forms taken by this expression prioritize declaration and the spirit of exploration, grounded in an aesthetic of liberation.

The Art of Liberation The Liberation of Art

The Art of Liberation, The Liberation of Art

The liberation of art is the endeavor to change the definition of art. It is conscious of the principle that art is an indicator of plurality, which is grounded in a variety of frames of references. The definition of art that is recognized and in force currently is shackled to: painting, sculpture and graphic design, that is, art that is locked to one frame of reference, namely, that of art as “High Art”.

(I) Observing:

The definition of art as encompassing expression in only three fields, namely painting, sculpture and graphic design is devoid of a conceptual framework.

(II) Considering:

The definition of the Indonesian term seni rupa is based on a direct translation of the term “fine arts,” descending from a Latin definition from the Renaissance of la belle arti del disegno.

New Art Movement Exhibition 1987 Project 1: Supermarket Fantasy World Sticker Car

New Art Movement 1987 Exhibition, Fantasy World Supermarket: Project 1 Sticker Car (http://archive.ivaa-online.org/events/detail/14)

(III) Concluding:

It is not fully understood that this definition of art is rooted in the principles of artes liberales (Liberal Arts) from the frame of reference of “High Art” elaborated during the Renaissance in the sixteenth century, an outlook that believes in the existence of only one (high) culture and the one type of art which it has produced.

(IV) Declaring:

That art is an expression of plurality. That culture has a variety of frames of reference.

(V) Declaring:

The current definition of art is the result of adaptation devoid of conceptual thinking, lacking consideration of the acculturation of aesthetics.

New Art Movement Exhibition 1987 Project 1: Supermarket Fantasy World Documentation

1987 New Art Movement Exhibition, Fantasy World Supermarket: Project 1 Documentation (http://archive.ivaa-online.org/events/detail/14)

This formulation of the definition of art is trapped. The definition of art with a “High Art” frame of reference has become completely impoverished and specific. This formulation does not see the surrounding reality where a variety of expressions of art based on other frames of reference are found.

Throughout the history of Indonesian art, this groundless and contorted definition has held sway. On the other hand, art grounded in ethnic cultures, popular art from everyday life, crafts and design (art with other frames of reference outside the old definition) stand as phenomena which never gets any attention.

This is an ironic curiosity.

New Art Movement Exhibition 1987 Project 1: Supermarket Fantasy World Supermarket

New Art Movement 1987 Fantasy World Supermarket: Project 1 Exhibition (http://archive.ivaa-online.org/events/detail/14)

(VI) Paying Attention To:

The only expression of art which is in accord with that definition of art is the only one used by Indonesian Modern Art, part of World Modern Art (derived from artes liberales) in its connection to the principle that “art is universal”.

Due to the inaccurate formulation of its definition, Indonesian Modern Art is also trapped in a narrow circle. Once again there has been adaptation without conceptual thought or aesthetic consideration. Artists and critics of Indonesian Modern Art have in truth become blind and regard modern art – painting, sculpture and graphic design – as the one and only expression of art. Outside this, art does not exist. This attitude has become popular and is seen in the expression: “… is not painting”.

This is not fanaticism for a particular idea, rather a strongly held attitude which is baseless. The reality is truly: confusion. The absence of critical attention to this contorted definition is a sign of this confusion. In fact, there is no awareness of any definition at all. The activities of modern art itself proceed in a fragmented way with painting as the most popular of these.

(VII) Declaring:

Modern Indonesian Artists have made an idiomatic error, using the language of Modern Art but without an aesthetic understanding. They base their artistic activity entirely on incomplete fragments of the history of Modern Art, a belief in the history of art and only one understanding of aesthetics.

Modern Indonesian artists have become consumerist. They regard a variety of concepts of style within these fragments of the History of Modern Art as a source which has to be made sacred and embraced unconditionally. A contorted imitation of lifestyle also happens. A romantic lifestyle has turned into epigonic eccentricity. Internally exploratory individualism has been replaced by megalomaniac egotism.

Project 1 Supermarket Fantasy World Exhibition 1987

1987 Fantasy World Supermarket: Project 1 Exhibition

This advanced erroneous adaptation has led critics and modern artists into a preoccupation with matching expressions of modern art with a “dictionary” of art history. Modern artists truly do not practice a tradition of exploration.

(VIII) Declaring:

Thinking about art in Indonesia is headed for bankruptcy.

Indonesian Modern Art, the only art consistent with the definition, is experiencing a deep stagnation. It is fixed on the early styles of Modern Art. It has stopped exploring, is incapable of reflecting inwardly in search of the basis for other developments.

Art based on other frames of reference has been expunged from thinking about art. The contorted definition of art has relegated this to obscurity. Art with a background in ethnic cultures has without exception been framed as belonging to the past. Graphic design as the product of technological and industrial progress is thought of as crude art regarded only for its surface beauty. Popular art which deals with everyday life is regarded as the product of mass culture and as devoid of value.

New Art Movement Exhibition 1987, Project 1: Supermarket Fantasy World "No 1 in America"

New Art Movement 1987 Fantasy Word Supermarket: Project 1 “No. 1 in America/Here” (http://archive.ivaa-online.org/events/detail/14)

(IX) Proclaiming:

What is needed is the liberation of art. A framework of expression that prioritizes the dismantling of a misguided tradition of art. A framework of expression that is rational and which prioritizes expression based on an aesthetics of liberation.

(X) Proclaiming:

What is needed is a redefinition of art, the liberation of art from the confines of a definition rooted in artes liberales, to search for a new definition capable of embracing every expression of art.

(XI) Proclaiming:

What is needed is the liberation of our thought world from a completely single perspective believing in only one frame of reference which begets one art, only one global community in a cultural form that is complete and integrated.

Jakarta, May 2 1987


(*) 1987 Manifesto of the New Art Movement is partly based on the work of the Digital Archive of Contemporary Indonesian Art and available in the original at Manifesto Gerakan Seni Rupa Baru 1987. It represents the manifesto used by the New Art Movement for the Fantasy World Supermarket: Project 1 (Pasaraya Dunia Fantasi: Proyek 1) exhibition in 1987.

Gerakan Seni Rupa Baru at the Digital Archive of Indonesian Contemporary Art.

Monash Asia Institute (MAI)

Masculinities in Indonesia & East Timor – Monash Asia Institute

Event Time: Tuesday, 9 May 2017, at 2:00-4:00pm

Elizabeth Burchill Seminar Room, E5.61, Level 5 Building 11 (Menzies), Monash University, 20 Chancellors Walk, Wellington Road, Clayton, Victoria 3800

Ariel Heryanto (Monash University) will be discussing multiple masculinities with members of a new generation of scholars who are completing separate research projects on the topic:

• Hani Yulindrasari (The University of Melbourne

• Noor Huda Ismail (Monash University)

• Benjamin Hegarty (The Australian National University)

• Sara Niner (Monash University).

Julian Millie (Monash University) will offer concluding comments

Contacts:

Ariel Heryanto <Ariel.Heryanto@anu.edu.au>

Julian Millie <Julian.Millie@monash.edu>

Hosted by Anthropology/School of Social Sciences

FACULTY OF ARTS, MONASH UNIVERSITY

GUEST SPEAKERS

HANI YULINDRASARI is a lecturer in the Early Childhood Teacher Education Program, Universitas Pendidikan Indonesia in Bandung, Indonesia. She is currently completing her doctoral thesis on “Negotiating masculinities: the lived experience of male teachers in Indonesian early childhood education.” By examining gender narratives among male teachers, the research examines the diversity of masculinities in Indonesia including a range of ‘nurturing masculinities’.

NOOR HUDA ISMAIL focuses his research on the Indonesian foreign fighters, hegemonic masculinity and globalization. His internationally acclaimed documentary film Jihad Selfie (2016) traces the steps of a young man from Aceh as he was about to go to Syria to join ISIS. In his work, Ismail contends that the ‘masculine’ is not only a personal practice but a political decision which requires the struggle for limited resources, the mobilization of power and tactics.

BENJAMIN HEGARTY is completing his doctoral dissertation on the changing possibilities for queer intimacy and the feminine transgender body in authoritarian Indonesia (1966-1998). He will share with us his insights on changing notions of being a complete man (laki-laki komplit) as the New Order ideology of marriage and household is an increasingly difficult path to follow and new sites of pleasure and possibilities for economic success induce a different and more ambiguous future of masculinity in the post-authoritarian period.

DR. SARA NINER is an expert in the field of gender and development with a long-term interest in those issues in the post-conflict environment of Timor-Leste. Her current research explores gender roles in the post-conflict setting of Timor-Leste (East Timor), focusing on the implications for change and continuity in constructions of masculinities over time.

HOSTS

Associate Professor Julian Millie is ARC future fellow in the Anthropology, working on publicness in Indonesia’s regional Islamic spheres. His forthcoming book Laughing, crying, thinking: Islamic oratory and its critics will be published by Cornell University Press.

Ariel Heryanto is the new Herbert Feith Professor for the Study of Indonesia, Faculty of Arts. His latest book is Identity and Pleasure; the politics of Indonesian screen culture (2014).


Source: Monash Asia Institute, Arts, Humanities, Social Sciences and Performing Arts
Monash University, Caulfield Campus, Building H, 900 Dandenong Road, Caulfield East  Vic  3145, Ph: 61 3 9905 2929, MAI-Enquiries@monash.edu

Mau Dibawa Ke Mana Sinema Kita? : Beberapa Wacana Seputar Film Indonesia – Khoo Gaik Cheng & Thomas Barker (Penyunting)

Saya sering berkata “malas” untuk menonton film Indonesia. Bukan demi menunjukan sikap resistansi apapun. Tak ada pembenaran terkaitnya, karena mendukung perfilman Indonesia paling sederhana memang…

Mau Dibawa ke Mana Sinema Kita?

Mau Dibawa ke Mana Sinema Kita?

Source: Mau Dibawa Ke Mana Sinema Kita? : Beberapa Wacana Seputar Film Indonesia – Khoo Gaik Cheng & Thomas Barker (Penyunting)

Motorbike Taxi

By Gerson Poyk

Late one evening as I was studying for my semester exams, my nimble fingered father called out to me from the living room. Without looking up from the old radio he was repairing he said, “Come and sit here a moment, son.” I sat down expecting a request for help to hunt on the cool ceramic tile floor of our house for some nut or screw he had dropped.

      But I was wrong.

      “Since your mother passed away I haven’t been able to concentrate, son,” said dad. “I haven’t been doing a good job on these radios either, and well, the customers, they’re going other places. My small pension isn’t really enough; I’m not making as much as I used to from the radios and I have no idea how I’m going to pay for your little sister to go to university.”

      Politely I said nothing as my father continued.

      “What do you think if I withdraw the last of our savings from the bank and buy a small second-hand motorbike?”

      I was puzzled, “A motorbike?”

      “A motorbike. You could make a little extra money for us by taking pillion passengers. By becoming an ojek (1).”

      “You mean like all those other ojek who give people rides for a fee?” I asked.

      “If you don’t mind spending the time on Friday evenings or in the afternoons you could get a few fares. Even one or two would be a help with the household budget. Rather than getting a job as a bus driver like some of your friends, it would be better to just become an ojek,” said dad, screwdriver still inserted into the radio.

      “No problem,” I said straight away, getting up to go back to my desk beside the kerosene stove at the back room of our fourteen tile-wide three-room house. There weren’t any doors between the rooms so I could talk to dad in the living room if he raised his voice slightly. “Could I use the bike to go to university, dad?” I asked.

      “No, don’t do that,” was his reply. “What you need to do is stay away from the main roads. Just wait on the bike at the intersection of the main road and the road leading into our kampong. You have to offer to take people places they can’t get by public transport,” suggested dad from our all-purpose living room cum electronics workshop.

      My younger sister was worn out from playing volleyball with friends from the neighborhood and was in bed. When she went out to play volleyball in the afternoons she would usually take a couple of thermos flasks full of ice blocks which she would place by the edge of the court. Once her friends were thirsty she would shepherd them over to the thermos flasks and sell them ice blocks. She not only got a little physical exercise but she also made a little money, her own little contribution to the household. Our tiny house was in fact a highly productive place, serving as both radio repair workshop and factory producing the ice blocks my sister sold to weary neighbor children and school friends.

 

I busied myself, first arranging a motorbike license for myself and then with the last of dad’s savings, looking for a second hand motorbike.

      I would come home from lectures in the afternoons and wait at the top of the road leading down into the densely built kampong with its labyrinth of capillary small lanes and paths which were impenetrable to public transport.

      On the first day I made a fortune, five thousand rupiah! This encouraged me greatly and after a week I had made a tidy little sum. Dad urged me to put the money into the bank account he helped my sister open a long time ago when she started selling ice blocks.

      The money brought its own pleasure. But there were also the pleasures of the odd little things that happened from time to time not to mention the life-threatening risks. At first I couldn’t care less about the passengers, what they looked like, or what state they were in, as long as they handed over the fare. Old, young, clean, dirty, healthy, sick (so long as they were still healthy enough to sit on the back), I took anyone, anytime they wanted, anywhere they wanted to there.

      But it was the young women I enjoyed the most, and there were plenty of attractive young women wanting to be taken home to their houses deep in the kampong, far from the main road and public transport. But as an ojek, I knew my place and never tried starting a conversation.

      One day a beautiful white woman walked up to me wanting a ride. The problem was she was so amazingly tall and so large that as we traveled the bike swayed wildly and she almost caused me to lose my balance. And then it had to happen, right as we descended a small hill, my front tire blew out! I jumped on the brake – and over we went! Small dark me and the beautiful giant both went sprawling across the road. Fortunately she wasn’t hurt. As the bike went over, her vast figure landed on scrawny little me, right on my head! And as my helmet had no chin protector, my chin was driven into the gravel road, almost breaking my chin and sending dazzling sensations through my jawbone as it was pushed back into the base of my ears. Happily the feeling didn’t last too long.

      I apologized to the white woman, hailed a friend passing on his way home from taking someone else and asked him to drop off my huge white passenger.

      It was some time before I saw the white woman again. Then one day while I was waiting for passengers she went past this time driving her own car. An Indonesian woman was sitting next to her. I wondered where the beautiful giant and her attractive Indonesian friend with flowing black hair could be going. I was desperate to know so I turned the ignition key and set off after them. Dismay swept over me when eventually the car pulled into an immense two storey house which compared to my fourteen tile wide house was a castle. I just rode past satisfied that I had found where the attractive white woman lived.

      It was some time later before I saw the Indonesian woman again and in the meantime I continued with my business ferrying passengers on the back of my bike. I lost count of the number of fares I had, anyone at all wanting a ride, young or old, male or female, not to mention all the children. I took no notice of them, just the money they held out.

      At home three things filled my mind: my father, my little sister and my study, while at the university campus I would revert back into a hard working university student.

      Several months later I did notice the woman with the flowing straight black hair again as she crossed the road at the bus stop. This time she was wearing a high school uniform. I waved and as she headed in my direction I started the engine. She jumped on and we roared off.

      “Who was that good looking white woman you were with?” I asked without wasting time.

      “Have you ever given her a ride?” she asked in reply.

      “Once. But I got a flat and we both came off. She landed on me and almost crushed me!”

      The high school girl on the back laughed and said, “She’s my after-school tutor.”

      “Well, that explains why you were in the car together, doesn’t it. And what does she teach?”

      “She teaches English,” answered the girl.

      “Cool. By the time you’re in university you’re English will be good,” I said encouraging her. “Which stream are you in at school?”

      “I took sciences.”

      “And what do you want to do at university?” I asked.

      “Mathematics…”

      I began to say how wonderful I thought that was but suddenly she shouted ‘stop’, seriously startling me. Without realizing it we had reached her large house.

      She held out a ten thousand rupiah note and said, “This is all I have, sorry.” I didn’t flinch and she continued, “Ah, keep the change.” She strode off towards the imposing wrought iron gates leaving me clutching the note.

 

I stopped working as an ojek so I could concentrate on my final major paper at uni. In the meantime I lent my bike to a friend whose own motorbike had been repossessed by the owner. We agreed to split the profit fifty-fifty and even though he’d only finished primary school, he turned out to be completely honest. He dropped in every afternoon to deliver half the day’s takings. My friend’s honesty encouraged me to look on him as a younger brother and my father too became quite fond of him. Orphaned when young, he had no home and sometimes slept on benches at the bus interchange, sometimes in shop doorways. When dad found out about this he rented a small room in a boarding house for my friend.

      Late one night he picked up a passenger and that was the last time his friends saw him. His lifeless body was found dumped in a river, my motorbike stolen by his cruel thieving killer. My friend’s life had been extinguished for nothing more than a crappy second hand motorbike. Sorrow settled over our hearts and remained with us always, along with the memory of the friend who had been so good to us.

      My friend’s death also caused the more mundane problem that we had to deal with the police, but we were satisfied they had taken his murder seriously.

 

After so much hard work I eventually graduated and the day I received my results, a satisfactory level pass, I was overcome with anguish thinking about my murdered ojek friend. He had contributed so much to paying my way through my now successfully completed uni course and I was overcome with grief and emotion.

      In my poverty in that small house with a widowed pensioner scratching out a living by repairing radios and my little sister carting ice blocks to school to sell to friends the almighty had granted that I should complete my degree, me, a university graduate, born of poverty and the faithful friendship of a homeless ojek whose life was torn away by a savage robbing killer.

My sister started uni and dad continued repairing his radios. He even surprised us by quietly learning how to repair television sets. My sister and I were amazed one day to find a television in the living room.

      As soon as I graduated I was offered a job as a teacher at the uni and one day while teaching a class of first year students I noticed one of the female students with a surprised look on face. At once I recognized the woman who was gazing not at a teacher but at a young ojek and the question was obvious, how could he be one of my lecturers!

      Unfortunately it didn’t take her long to fail the semester examination and stop coming to lectures. Before she stopped attending, however, she sent me a letter politely asking whether she could visit me at home to arrange private tutoring, at whatever price I liked. She was even prepared to become my girlfriend, so long as I faked her results so she passed the examination.

      Saddened I reflected on the fact that my degree had cost the life of my ojek friend and that if I did tamper with her results, the reputation of the university would be worthless. The answer was, no.

 


1. Ojek are informal motorbike taxi riders who earn an income by carrying pillion passengers to their destination for a fare.

2. Ojek was published in Kompas Daily in June 1988.

3. On Gerson see http://idwriters.com/writers/gerson-poyk/; http://gersonpoyk.blogspot.com.au/; https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/992956.Gerson_Poyk.  

4. Featured image from https://adinparadise.wordpress.com/2013/07/24/wordless-wednesday-hitching-a-ride/