Heavenly Garden: Creating Intimacy, Developing Empathy

Abstract in Bahasa Indonesia: Penulis yang merupakan seorang seniman performans menjelaskan dorongan dalam penciptaan  “Optik-Optik Kecil”, yaitu sebuah karya seni partisipatif mengumpulkan embun pagi bersama. Performans dilaksanakan di sebuah lahan di sebuah kota yang dekat dengan Jakarta yakni Depok di Provinsi Jawa Barat. Kegiatan dilakukan di waktu yang spesifik— setiap pagi di beberapa akhir pekan saat bulan suci Ramadan, yakni bulan dimana umat Muslim berpuasa dari waktu matahari terbit hingga terbenam. Para partisipan menyisir lanskap untuk mengumpulkan embun dan seperti halnya berpuasa, performans ini bermaksud untuk membudayakan empati masyarakat. Dengan menggunakan embun sebagai material harapan dan kesadaran, seniman berkeinginan untuk membuat realita-realita dari tiap partisipan saling bertemu dan bersilangan, walau hanya sesaat, di sebuah ruang lanskap.

Citation: Saraswati, Ratu. “Heavenly Garden: Creating Intimacy, Developing Empathy.” The Jugaad Project, 1 Sept. 2019, thejugaadproject.pub/heavenly-garden-creating-intimacy-developing-empathy [date of access]

In Optik-Optik Kecil or ‘Tiny Optics’, I invited people to join me in collecting the morning dew called embun in Bahasa Indonesia. Optik-Optik Kecil was a participatory gathering and performance art, held in Rumah Tangga, a 5500 square metres area of land in Depok, a city close to Jakarta in West Java province. Java, for those who are not familiar, is the most populated island in the Indonesian archipelago and the majority of the population are Muslims.

Connotations of the Garden in Islam

I am a practicing Sunni Muslim and chose to schedule this gathering during ‘Ramadan’, the fasting month. The gatherings were started very early at the beginning of dawn, from five to eight in the morning over three weekends on 12, 19, and 25 and 26 May 2019.  Ramadan (also referred to as Ramzan) is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar and is observed by Muslims worldwide as a month of fasting, prayer, reflection and community. It is the month when the majority of Indonesians who are Muslim perform the obligatory ritual of fasting which requires abstinence from food, drink, and sexual activity from dawn to sunset. Fasting or saum heightens our senses in time and space. Beside the spiritual purpose of strengthening faith in Allah, saum also has a social purpose. One of the intentions of practicing saum is to exercise control over human desires, and to experience the struggle of others, especially those who live in poverty and hunger, as a pathway to human solidarity. In other words, the ritual of fasting itself aims to cultivate people’s empathy. While fasting, Muslims also pay more attention to their acts to make sure that they do only good deeds and avoid sinful acts even those as small as speaking ill of others. It is hoped that if their behavior is in line with Islamic good morals (akhlaqul karimah), Allah, hopefully, will accept all their worshipping rituals (ibadah), especially their saum.

It is a yearly tradition for Indonesians to gather during Ramadan, and such gatherings feel more special than any other time. The bond that Muslims share is based on the experiences that arise from distinct and specific daily routines during Ramadan. For example, Muslims in Indonesia wake up early around two to five in the morning to have early breakfast (sahoor) and break their fast at around six in the evening with a meal called iftar.  Families usually eat sahoor together and then follow with Subuh prayer. People organise iftar dinner gatherings with their relatives or colleagues as a part of silaturahim (connecting the kinship), to strengthen their relationships. These dinner gatherings can also be casual and not only attended by those who fast. Nowadays, people who live in urban settings usually choose to have iftar gatherings in restaurants or mall cafes as these are easy and convenient meeting points for most people to visit after work. Meanwhile, the others rush to go home to have iftar together with their family. In other group settings, Muslims also tend to pray more often at the mosque where they gather to hear Islamic sermons. Charity events for the underprivileged are also managed in collective settings, for example, in a poor neighborhood or an orphanage.

Abu Hurairah narrated that the Prophet Muhammad said, "When the month of Ramadan starts, the gates of the heaven are opened and the gates of Hell are closed and the devils are chained." (Sahih Al-Bukhari 1899)

Ramadan emphasises the existence of heaven as the final reward prepared for those who deserve it. The holy Qur’an used the word Jannah for heaven. Jannah literally means a garden in Arabic. It is derived from the triliteral root jīm nūn nūn ( ج ن ن) that can mean to hide, cover, conceal, or refers to the unseen. Thus, the term can indicate the characteristics of heaven itself—the place that is still hidden to one’s senses, and a mystery to humankind’s limited abilities.

The paradigm of a heavenly environment is formed by knowledge gathered mainly from Quranic verses. The natural beauty of heaven as cited in Surah Ash-Shura: 22 is ‘the lush regions of the gardens’. Furthermore, other verses explained more details of its vegetation. This following verse is one of them:

“And below them, both (in excellence) are two (other) gardens. So which of the favours of your Lord would you deny? Dark green (in colour). In both of them are two springs, spouting. So which of the favours of your Lord would you deny? In both of them are fruit and palm trees and pomegranates.“ (Surah Al-Rahmaan: 62-68)

In addition to the harmonious natural landscape of heaven, Qur’an also mention the state of the human minds who reside there:

 “Indeed, the righteous will be within gardens and springs. (Having been told), "Enter it in peace, safe (and secure)." And We will remove whatever is in their breasts of resentment, (so they will be) brothers, on thrones facing each other.” (Surah Al-Hijr: 45-47) 

The Spiritual Aspects of ‘Mooi Indië’ Style

When Indonesians think about landscapes, most of us will picture mountains, coconut trees, and paddy fields. The idea of the landscape has been rooted since the early production of naturalism-romanticism-styled painting in the late 19th century and the 20th century, called ‘Mooi Indië’ or beautiful Indies, created by painters from The Netherlands and Indonesia. Those Indonesian painters who studied with Dutch and other European painters included Raden Saleh (1811-1880) Figure 1, and the later generations, such as Abdullah Soerjo Soebroto (1878-1941), Wakidi (1889-1979), and other successors. These Indonesian painters came from the priyayi (aristocrat or nobleman) class who had access to western education, but still carried the conservative traditional culture.

Figure 1 Raden Saleh, Six Horsemen Chasing Deer, 1860, oil on canvas mounted on fiber board, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of Mrs. Sally Burbank Swart, 1985. (Image source: Smithsonian American Art Museum)

The style of art that pribumi (natives Indonesian) knew during that era was ones that could be found in traditional visual art forms. In traditional visual art, the subject matters are depicted as flat and decorative, and have certain characteristics, with each one symbolizing a specific meaning for its audience. We can find these traits in the strict use of selected colours and repetitive shapes in batik patterns, and also the unrealistic depiction of figures in wayang shadow puppets. At that time, pribumi favoured landscape-themed paintings. The way Mooi Indië portrayed the subject matter of the paintings, as if they were ‘real and lively’, was admired by most of them (Burhan, 2014: 110). Mooi Indië inherited the principles of Romanticism paintings that were generated from Renaissance paintings such as perspective, chiaroscuro (light and shade), and sfumato (soft outlines). (Burhan, 2014: 110)

Figure 2 Abdullah Soerjo Soebroto, Mountain Landscape in Preanger (Java), 1920-1930, oil on canvas, Tropenmuseum, The Netherlands (Image source: Wikimedia)

Even though the ‘Mooi Indië’ style is often criticised because of its tendency to exoticise the Indonesian tropical landscape, most Indonesians to this day appreciate this style. Indonesian founding father and the first president of the Republic of Indonesia, Soekarno (serving from 1945 to 1967), as an art appreciator himself, had many collections of paintings with this style and he was one of the most important patrons in Indonesian art history.

With such support, the Mooi Indië style has given most Indonesians the dominant idea of beauty but also godliness. Why godliness? What makes these Mooi Indië paintings by Indonesian painters different from western artists is the recurring subject of the mountain. Indonesian painters depicted the mountain as majestic and enchanted states rather than simply an element of scenery.

In Indonesia, the panorama of mountains holds more than beauty. The islands also have active and extinct volcanoes. On one hand, a volcanoe’s eruption is a potential threat, but, on the other hand, its soil is very fertile and important for the people who live on agriculture. People believed in the indigenous Animist, Buddhist and Hindu ideas that there was a spirit who resided in the mountains, and to protect themselves from the destructive power of the spirit, they would send offerings. From such practices, we know that the mountain is a symbol that mediates the human world and the spiritual realm (Wright, 1994).

“In the Hindu-Buddhist view, the mountain stabilizes the universe, holding sky and earth in place, pacifying the ‘demonic forces of disruption, instability and disorder’. Symbol of the Supreme Being, the mountain is like ‘the unshakeable and firm hub of the universe’.” (Snodgrass 1985: 187 in Wright 1994: 40).

The iconography of the mountain in Indonesian heritage is often found in art in many aspects of life. In religious structures , its manifestation can be found in the 9th-century Hindu Candi Prambanan, 8th and 9th-century Buddhist Candi Borobudur in Java, and also in the symbolism of temple gates in Bali. In wayang shadow puppetry, the dalang (puppeteer) marks the opening and ending of the play with a Gunungan (mountain in Javanese) which is a wayang figure carved out of leather in the shape of a mountain.Thus, the culture of creation and perception within which Mooi Indië paintings by Indonesians were created could be considered as multi-layered and complex with a strong spiritual dimension.

The Performance of Optik-Optik Kecil

While noting the transcendental ideal of the majestic mountain, for instance, in Soerjo Soebroto’s Mountain Landscape (Figure 2), my interest in creating the performative gathering Optik-Optik Kecil was to revisit and question these values and ideals in daily experience, and find a way to reconnect with nature in the present day.

This project started after my observation of a lake called Situ Baru inside Bumi Perkemahan dan Graha Wisata (Buperta) Cibubur, East Jakarta, on 1 April 2019. Buperta Cibubur campsite is a 215-hectare integrated education and tourism area that was originally initiated by the second president of Republic of Indonesia, Soeharto (serving from 1967 to 1998), to accommodate the Scout National Jamboree in 1973. Moreover, in the absence of urban forests in Jakarta’s landscape, Buperta Cibubur campsite is the first place many children and teenagers collectively experience activities in nature together with their peers. This is true for generations of Indonesians, especially for those who live in Jakarta and surrounding cities, including myself.

Figure 3 The panorama of Buperta Cibubur Lake, East Jakarta, 2019. (Photo: Author)

Figure 4 A dead fish in Buperta Cibubur Lake, East Jakarta, 2019. (Photo: Author)

Buperta Cibubur on that day was quiet in the heat of the sun. In the dark, polluted, and dirty water there was a reflection of the sky, like a large mirror with a grim reflection. Dead fish floated, sinking animal-shaped ships—whale, goose and frog—looked stiff and faded. Many young people present were dressed alike for a government academy initiation. They marched under command and sang an Indonesian patriotic song ‘Sorak-Sorak Bergembira’. They entered the lake, one by one, following the order. One by one, they were told to wash their muddy clothes with the lake water. From this observation, I learned that humans can change the environment with their pattern of behavior through their interactions with the natural landscape, but that consequently the environment also shapes the human relations that are created on its land.

Figure 5 Portrait of neglected facility in Buperta Cibubur Lake, East Jakarta, 2019. (Photo: Author)

Optik-Optik Kecil took place in a humble setting, land that had been abandoned for almost twenty years. The owner of the land, the Djohan family, sometimes loaned the land to night markets for free during the 1990s, and then after the crowd had gone, the land was empty again until Ella Wijt and Kurt Peterson, two of Djohan’s family members, built and opened an art residence named Rumah Tangga on the land in early 2019. Rumah Tangga is located around five kilometer away from Buperta Cibubur complex.

I saw this performance project as an opportunity to bring people together. Over the last three years, Indonesians have been facing a hard time with human relations due to a divided and polarised society. Some of the crucial incidents are the blasphemy case of the former Jakarta governor Basuki Tjahaja Purnama, the 212 rally, and the post presidential election riot. Religion, ethnicity, and social and cultural identity are being used in identity politics, and it has hit a critical point of social disintegration. The different perspectives used when perceiving information can escalate so fast, creating tensions and fights, as a result. People can accuse others who oppose their opinions, in everyday conversations, that they are wrong and God will condemn their actions. How long should we or can we wait so we can have dialogues again with those who disagree with us?

Art has the ability to repair damaged social bonds between humans. Thus, I focus on revisiting the interpersonal values of art in my contemporary art practice. The meaningful encounters developed from the individual, collaborative, and participatory performance are what are most valuable in my practice. I use the artistic endeavours that I believe expand human empathy to create a sincere common ground within the realm of the psyche.

Figure 6 Portrait of the author/artist collecting dew in Rumah Tangga, Leuwinanggung, Depok. 2019. (Photo: Rumah Tangga)

In Bahasa Indonesia, the phrase ‘Tanah Air’ refers to our homeland or motherland and nation. The direct English translation of ‘Tanah Air’ is soil (and) water – two words that define our natural archipelago. I consider the morning dew as the material of hope. Although dew’s quantity cannot be compared with the perpetual spring conceived of as being in heaven, the formation of dew is cyclical and has its own continuity. The material is ephemeral and evaporates with the sun, but it will reappear every day. Dew embodies and represents a universal idea of purity. Various goodnesses come along with dew as cited in many beliefs. Dew can be used to wash a Muslim's body before praying, while in Christianity dew is cited as the dew of heaven in the Bible that counts as blessings for the earth (Genesis 27:28).

In total there were eighty five participants in four weekend sessions. While drops of dew were being collected in glass and plastic bottles, and containers, conversations flowed organically. The whole experience created a sense of camaraderie in the relational landscape of human and nature. Moving on the land also necessitated a break with daily gestures because picking up a tiny drop of dew demanded a delicate motion and intense focus. Stories intersected and resonated through our activated senses. Within these momentary encounters, Optik-Optik Kecil unfolded through time and revealed many aspects of life through the earliest conversations initiated in a day.

Some of the topics covered:

•    How the bees collect pollen

•    The uses of plants

•    The non-stop activity of workers in Jakarta

•    How humans exploit nature

•    Can we create a sustainable living?

•    The memories of war, what it feels like being trapped in the jungle

•    The different choices in life

•    What is art?

•    Why do you fast? Why are you not fasting?

•    Dialogue about God and His creation

Figure 7 ‘Optik-Optik Kecil’ (Tiny Optics), artist with children, participatory gathering of collecting the morning dew on the holy month of Ramadan. Rumah Tangga, Leuwinanggung, Depok, 5 AM-8 AM, 12 May 2019. (Photo: Patar Pribadi.)

Many people talked about their nostalgia for their youth and the land they used to explore when they were young. The nostalgia also related to a sense of naivete when participants remembered where this all started. How, when they (and we) just knew a little about the world, and before they had made assumptions arising from bad experiences, that is, before they developed grudges and preconceived notions about people and places. Seeing through the eyes of a child or as a farmer who lived close to the earth, some were able to temporarily remove their/our guards.  

Figure 8 ‘Optik-Optik Kecil’ (Tiny Optics), participatory gathering of collecting the morning dew on the holy month of Ramadan. Rumah Tangga, Leuwinanggung, Depok, 5 AM-8 AM, 19 May 2019 (Photo: Rumah Tangga)

In the gathering, the participants were presented with a natural setting that looked familiar, not too far from our everyday-ness, but yet, uncanny, hidden from our chaotic life. The task of collecting dew provided a sensory experience for urban bodies, eyes, ears, and hands. As a facilitator of this participatory performance, I aimed that with every step that people took, they would be able to relearn how to navigate the reality of that day. This, despite the difficulty of envisioning nature currently as the ‘godly garden’, an image that may have been imprinted on their mind from art as well as religious values, and actualised the essential principle of living together in heaven. Closer to reality, the participants were canvassing, feeling the land’s contours, and grounding themselves with their motherland

Figure 9 ‘Optik-Optik Kecil’ (Tiny Optics), participatory gathering of collecting the morning dew on the holy month of Ramadan. Rumah Tangga, Leuwinanggung, Depok, 5 AM-8 AM, 25 May 2019 (Photo: Patar Pribadi)

This gathering provided an opportunity for participants to be intimate with the ephemeral materiality of dew, with the things that they found, or the person next to them, or the friends or family they brought to the land. The land offered all of us the chance to unfold the many lives around us, the place where a biodiversity of creatures and plants shared life in this world with humans. There was a realization through the activity of dew-collecting that the scale of our bodies shared the same source, breath, and vapor, before and after us, with other entities. We became an active witness to life itself. Participants related with their surroundings differently, and the absence of any one method to embrace the phenomenon democratised the process of seeing nature from different viewpoints.

This participatory performance aims to produce meaning within ‘the sphere of inter-human relations’ (Bourriaud 2002: 28-29). Everybody is a unique self, and each self has a different sensory perception, affected by memories or trauma that dwell inside. This means that our realities are not the same. By creating these kinds of artworks as experiential gatherings, I learn to respect the fact that my reality and other peoples' realities intersect through perspectives. This understanding is the essential substance of living, knowing and experiencing.

Encounters such as Optik Optik Kecil help us learn how to reciprocate with other people. And to cultivate curiosity about others. Instead of exposing an object to its audience, this work exposes the audience to the other, or their others, in this case, everything outside the self, be it nature or other humans.

By being apart from their usual homogenous environment, people with different beliefs came together. Some were fasting, some were choosing not to, some people did things differently, and some had different needs. Therefore, empathy had to be exercised, and we could try to empathize with people whose reality was different from us. I believe curiosity is an antidote to fear of the unknown because from curiosity we can clarify and question our assumptions.

Figure 10 Dew in a jar from ‘Optik-Optik Kecil’ (Tiny Optics) (Photo: Rumah Tangga)

This participatory gathering implied a chance to devote ourselves to the present moment, to live in the moment without fear and anxiety. It was about having a deep inward reflection and realising the impact of one’s words and behaviours on others. Developing empathy was about being always active—engaged seeing, listening, sensing—and never being passive or complacent. I am not in the position to preach about how to live one’s life. My role in this work was to be on the same horizon as the participants. My aim was just to expose people to the immediacy and conditions of life in a non-confrontational, pleasurable manner, and in today’s environment. By doing so, I hoped to facilitate an experience where participants could feel the natural intimacy among humans, and also revive their relations with nature. From intimacy, we develop empathy.

References

Burhan, M. Agus (2014). Perkembangan Seni Lukis Mooi Indië Sampai Persagi di Batavia, 1900-1942. Jakarta: Galeri Nasional Indonesia

Wright, Astri (1994). Soul, Spirit, and Mountain: Preoccupations of Contemporary Indonesian Painters.Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press.

Bourriaud, Nicholas (2002). Relational Aesthetics. Paris: Les Presses du réel.