BELOW: Taking
offerings from Pura
Goa Lawah temple
to the sea, Dawan
October 2019 121BALIof charismatic spirit energy is discussed
further as we crack open a bottle of local
white. “It’s a recent development. Surprising,
right?” smiles Bee at my positive reaction to
the minerally wine.
Her father joins us, momentarily;
incapacitated by a road accident a few years
ago, Wianta’s activity has to be limited.
“Kenyem sends his warm regards,” I say,
on whose work Wianta has been a great
inluence. He doesn’t reply, but ixes me with
the most piercing, glittering stare. His eyes
are as penetrating as Kenyem’s lion god
— absolutely teeming with taksu.
But it’s time to hit the beach. Or at least,
the coastal town of Seminyak, where scooter
jams contribute to the sunset scrum; tourists
vying for oceanfront views at beach club
landmarks like Ku De Ta. I put a Bali Basil
Smash (gin, lychee, Asian basil) and banging
tunes on hold for a while longer. I dodge
the crowds at cold-brew hotspot, Revolver,
where iced cofee comes in old-style glass
liquor bottles, and pass a parade of indie
boutiques where Balinese batik comes with
international chic. Arriving at Purpa Fine Art
Gallery, owner Ari Purpa welcomes me into a
forest of bright canvasses.
“Java’s contemporary art scene, of
course, leads the way for Indonesia, but
it’s changing,” says Ari, the irst woman
among a patriarchal family line of gallerists.
The stylistic dictates of Bali’s classical art
traditions have been a cursed blessing for
contemporary artists: something to both
work within and also escape from. “It’s still
unusual to ind female artists here, but
they’re deinitely emerging,” says Ari.Citra Sasmita is one one of them. She’s
a contemporary artist under Purpa’s
representation whose striking, oten bloody
biological female abstracts are daring in
narrative and distinctive in style. “I want to
talk about Indonesian identity,” she explains.
“People say our art is very touristy. But it
can be more than that. It can be about a
discourse, not just money. I went to Java to
study, and it felt like the land of the free.”
Born in a conservative village in western
Bali, Citra began her career as an illustrator
at the Bali Post. “My parents didn’t know I
was an artist at irst. I told them I worked in a
cigarette factory,” she says.
“I don’t see myself as female artist; I’m
an artist. But I get still get shouted down
sometimes,” she smiles. “I’m supported by my
husband, though. He’s Japanese,” says Citra,
to which Ari ofers a hear-hear, announcing
that she herself has a French partner. “It
would be tough to be a female artist married
to a Balinese man,” smiles Citra. “I’m starting
an arts collective for women from Bali and
Indonesian islands as far as Kalimantan. Bali
has such potential. We have the materials,
the skills and the traditions.”Eastern promise
Ubud might grab the spotlight as a crucible
of modern art, but the traic-snarled streets
of Denpasar — a place to land in and leave
for most — has become an arts incubator via
such schools as the Institute of Art (ISI), and
National Academy of Arts in Denpasar (STSI).
“I’ve painted since I was four years
old, watching my father, learning,” says
Teguh Ritma Iman. We’re in his studio