You didn’t ask to be born. Your parents decided. (Or, in some cases, you’re an accident. Fine.)

You were born with free will. Your parents – if they’re properly educated – knew it.

As soon as you are mature enough – and I’ll say it’s 6-7 years old – you are geared to use your free will as much as you want.

What you want is above what your parents think you need.

You don’t belong to your parents. It doesn’t mean a thing if they think so and dictate what should you be, which idiotic religion you should or shouldn’t follow, or with whom you should have sex.

Once your parents do not show concern on your personal happiness then they have failed. You don’t need them. You don’t owe them a thing. (Remember: you did not ask to be born.)

There is no durhaka (“insubordination”, or many times interpreted as “rebellious towards parents”). There are only wrong decisions you’ll be responsible of, and great ones you’ll be proud of.


“She’s a pretty looking girl, don’t you think so?” Atreyu Moniaga asked about the picture above. “But, can you also feel the insecurity in her eyes? And how she covered her body? She is actually a friend of mine who, in her real life, has a severe body issue. And her insecurity connects to us. Because maybe we have insecurity issues in other areas, too.”

From May 25 until June 25 the many faces of pain are displayed in Qubicle Center, Jl. Senopati 79, South Jakarta. Atreyu Moniaga’s solo exhibition showcases stories that are very personal to him, represented in his photography artworks. The exhibition is curated by Jhosephine Tanuwidjaja who separated Moniaga’s artworks in three chambers.


The first chamber represents the denying stage where uncertainty and awkwardness dominate each frame. The second chamber is the acknowledgement stage where emotions burst and angst freely expressed. The final chamber is the recovery stage where the individuals try their best to untangle their conflict, and even get to a reborn phase. And, finally, an image formed by nine 60×60 cm canvases portrays a coming-of-age boy with stronger confidence.


PULIH – or “road to recovery” – is Atreyu Moniaga’s first solo photography exhibition. He has made his marks as an illustrator by showcasing his works in several solo and group exhibitions. He has collaborated with famed fashion designer Sebastian Gunawan for Melange des Sans collection in 2014. This visual artist has also made an acting career. He playead a leading role in The Fox Exploits the Tiger’s Might that was in Semaine de la critique competition in Cannes Film Festival 2015, and won Best Short Film in Indonesian Film Festival 2015.

BLIXT and Other Projects

The postgraduate student of Jakarta Institute of Arts is also a lecturer in a university in North Jakarta. He actively holds exhibitions outside campus for his selected college students, and recently initiates Atreyu Moniaga Project to further nurture and grow young artistic talents.




The Gatekeeper has this lovely job of waiting the gate that will bring the souls of the dead to the afterlife.

Dead Pious: So, Gatekeeper. You must be the one who is keeping the balance between my good deeds and – well – the things I did unintentionally.
The Gatekeeper: You’re definitely not the first one to think so, and – yes – you might think that way according to your belief, or religion. You want to know how is your performance during your life?
Dead Pious: I surely do.
The Gatekeeper: I can say that out of ten things you’ve done in all your life nine of them were praise-worthy. If their weight were measured, your good deeds and unselfish acts of charity will be around ninety kilograms, while your wrongdoings will be no more than a few hundred grams.
Dead Pious: Ha! So I will get to Heaven, right?
The Gatekeeper: Well, the thing is, there is no gravity here. We do not measure or scale your deeds.
Dead Pious: What? So?
The Gatekeeper: Whoever told you that your good deeds in your life will have any value here must be the stupidest and most moronic persons ever lived. No. Any of your deeds have no afterlife value. They are nothing. Even if you’ve raised a hundred orphans – no. It’s nothing. You’re dead now. None of them matters anymore.

Dead Martyr: They promised me Heaven if I blew myself in a shopping mall.
The Gatekeeper: Yeah, it’s like they promised that you would shit gold. Na’ah. Ain’t gonna happen.

Dead Recycle: So, what am I gonna be next? I’ve meditated in total silence for the last fifteen years in my life. I’m gonna be a dragon? Or, stars in the sky?
The Gatekeeper: Naaah. You’ve done nothing, so you’ll be nothing. Go on.
Dead Recycle: But, but, if I had done anything then it would be nothing to. So, what was the point of my existence?
The Gatekeeper: What made you think it had a point? You were just an accident.

Dead Sunday: Is my Savior your Big Boss? I am His disciple. I lived in and by His name. I will get to Heaven and rule with Him, right?
The Gatekeeper: Do I look like someone who works for a boss?
Dead Sunday: But, but, but … I’ve made so many other souls to believe in my Savior as well.
The Gatekeeper: Yeah. Stupidity is the main commodity in multi level marketing.

A Conversation with The Gatekeeper

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The opening of Blixt that I attended last month was more like a gathering of misfits instead of the usual opening night of an exhibition. Yes, it was about the scale; a comparatively tiny one in size that surely was not for the elites. And, definitely yes, it was about the artists; a gang of first year art students with no names, and no portfolio.

I found myself having a conversation with Arris Aprillo in the small patio of his coffee shop where the exhibition was held. “We need to give them space,” he told me when I asked why he accommodated Blixt, even made an effort to personally help the kids in preparing everything prior to the opening night. I love the way he put it. It is not because the students need the space. It is because we – perhaps Arris was referring us as people who have been in the art scene for much longer time – need to give them space.

It is our need to see new talents rising. It is our need to actively participate in nurturing them.


Works by Stella Randy, Andhie Kusnadi and Ketrin Aster were among the many displayed in Blixt.

Blixt is a group exhibition of photography works initiated by Atreyu Moniaga – an illustrator, a photographer, a seasonal actor, and, most importantly in this case, a lecturer. This is Atreyu Moniaga‘s fourth projects with his first year students. The other two also displayed photography works, and another one was Mixed Feelings 00 – a group exhibition of illustrations.

Just like the rest, and the coming Mixed Feelings 01 to open on April 24 2016, Blixt was not a campus program.

Atreyu Moniaga‘s off-campus projects were started in 2013 when some of his students inquired him on how to make their talents discovered. “Well, you have to build a portfolio,” his simple answer was. The portfolio building project rolled into ST/ART – a group exhibition of photography works by six first year students. Among them were Hendi Thamrin (today an official photographer for Patrick Owen), Sulvia Su (today is having a residency in Museum Nasional), and S. Jane Sukardi (today works for Antara News.)

And, just like the members of ST/ART, Lucid (the second group photography exhibition), and Mixed Feelings 00, the members of Blixt did not have it easy to have their works finally displayed on one side of the walls in That’s Life Coffee.


The humble display of Atreyu Moniaga’s first year students. And, Atreyu Moniaga himself as he was observing the photo book of Blixt. (Photos by Stella Randy.)

It took them one full year being molded by Atreyu Moniaga with additional help from his friends. “I always started with reading assignments. They have to expand their references first,” Moniaga said. “I evaluated every entry carefully. We worked together until late. Sometimes we even had to stay one or two nights together to work as a team. This is basically a year-long boot camp.”

Now, do you think the parents – the conservative Indonesian parents – of these 18-19 years old art students would easily let their children stay out of their houses like that?

Let me tell you a little more about where did Atreyu Moniaga found the young talents to be introduced in his exhibitions. He lectures in a campus located in far North Jakarta. The University of Bunda Mulia is not the first name you will think about when it comes to art schools in Jakarta, let alone Indonesia. The North Jakarta area itself has always been known as a population of business families – from the billionaires down to the humble tradesmen. Unlike the cool and hip South Jakarta, North Jakarta is not an area you would expect to become home for creative minds.

The students had already had it rough when they told their parents that they wanted to be artists. And, now these late night meetings with a young lecturer? Parents were not seldom questioning hard, even outraged.

“But, remember this. Other friends of yours are probably sneaking out of their houses as well only to go for clubbing. You guys are sneaking out to study. To make an exhibition. To make your mark,” Moniaga encouraged his students.

Adding to the pressure from home, Atreyu Moniaga‘s projects also were under the monitor of a few peers in art scene who did not always approve the idea. The (slightly) more senior artists, curators, or even educators, thought that none of the students were ready, and that their artworks were not presentable to the public, and they made having an exhibition sounds so cheap and easy.

So, can you imagine this: The school itself is already an underdog among the many art schools in the country. That means the students who joined Atreyu Moniaga‘s projects are the nerds in an underdog school. Being bullied is their lunch break.

The opening night of Blixt that I attended must be just like the opening nights of ST/ART, Lucid, and Mixed Feelings 00. This is a group of misfits whose stomachs are filled with a thousand butterflies flapping hard their wings. Are they really worthy? Is their year-long hard work will pay off? What kind of questions they will have to answer in the artists talk? Will there be any big names showing up? And, are their parents coming?

As for that night, Thalia W., Marselgeo, Stella Randy, Ketrin Aster, Andhie Kusnadi, and Ong William Joe had formed a bond unlike anything else. The quarrels they had, the challenges they faced, and the doubts they had to fight together all year long had melted them into one.

And that night they sat together in the artists talk session. They answered questions like inexperienced artists. Yet, they did answer questions. The crowds were not art critics or the elites. They were friends and people who are always eager to welcome new talents in the art scene. They came with a positive mindset that the art scene is always in the need for fresh blood.


Top Left to Bottom Right: Stella Randy, Ketrin Aster, Ong William Joe, Thalia W., Marselgeo, and Andhie Kusnasi in the artists talk session.

And the parents who came saw their children’s fine works proudly displayed. They saw how people gaze at what their children had been working on all night long, all year long. They saw how their children show responsibility by answering each question from the crowds. And, finally they saw people who are strangers to them clapping hands to salute their children.

That night I saw not only an opening night of an exhibition. That night I witnessed an art education at its purest form. An art education that gives space for the underdogs to express themselves. An art education that touches deep to their homes as fathers and mothers were in tears seeing how their children have grown up to become artists. An art education that changes perception. An art education that is unnoticeable.

Thalia W., Marselgeo, Stella Randy, Ketrin Aster, Andhie Kusnadi, and Ong William Joe had no agenda in Blixt but to see the results of their hard work displayed in a small coffee shop. These are photography works with no ambition, no ego at stake, no grades, and nothing to lose.

And, for me, these are the kinds of works that deserve the highest applause.


Atreyu Moniaga (top, far right) with his students who participated in Bixt and previous exhibitions.

Blixt had concluded last night, March 20, 2016. Expect to see the next Atreyu Moniaga’s project Mixed Feelings 01 – a group exhibition by his students Agatha Astari Gouw, Dicky “Daesky” Sarbeni, Robby Eduardo Garsia, and Vicky Saputra – to open on April 24, 2016 in That’s Life Coffee.

Settling down is as idle as fitting in. It is a product of a long period of repression – a series of identity loss, peer pressure, the call for normalcy, the tiring years of rebellion with no clear direction that ends up in the comfort of taking the mainstream track. We think we are tricking it, but later on we realize that it is all a compromise.

The youth was so full of ideas, and brimming with dreams, and passion. We thought we needed some clear direction to make sure that those ideals would somehow land us in a better life. Yet, it is a better life in a universal definition: a property, a family, a long time investment, a cup of coffee every morning, and a good sleep every evening. We started wild, then slowly, and sometimes unconsciously, stripped off all the things that made us exceptional to join the crowds.

For generations the exceptions must follow the rules. For generations the rules have threatened us with the notion that defying them means a life of unhappiness. For generations we have believed, and have tried to convince the next generation, that happiness equals comfort, certainty, and security.

That happiness is a good status quo.

We have denied that evolution is part of human nature. We seem to be receptive to the idea that men should reinvent themselves and welcome changes. But we place all those wisdom inside a huge box of comfort zone. And, to break the boundaries of comfort zone is unwise.

A comfort zone that says that men should marry and settle in a family; men an wives, men and husbands, women and wives. A comfort zone that is principally built by what we should own as basic needs: a roof above our heads no matter how small, two or three meals a day no matter how humble, and people who pay us respect when we rest in peace no matter how few.

And based on those minimum requirements of a happy life we are encouraged and motivated to live happier and happier. To be happier than the person standing next to us. And, that means to have something more than just a proper roof above our heads, better and “healthier” two or three humble meals a day, and more people we call friends and families. These ideas are advertised in all their glory, and mold the basic pride of humanity.

Oh, the pride of being normal. The pride of being the fittest. The pride of settling down in the most comfortable way.

The pride that keeps on minimizing the essence of being evolutionary. Even kills it completely.

When did you first compromise your dreams for a monthly salary to pay for your studio apartment? When did you first see that the idea of being what you have always wanted to be will not end you in a happy life? When did you first push the exceptional you to fit the box that your parents, friends, families, and society design for you?

Thousands of years ago civilization was built on the grounds of savagery. We used to dance with the lions – well or not. And now we turn the mighty king’s head into a logo of a hand soap. We have lost our respect to the wild, and automatically to ourselves as part of it.

We are nothing but tamed beasts. Caged bunnies.

The standards of good and bad are our prison bars that we made ourselves.

It is once again time for us to question normalcy. When in doubt ask differently. Should you really find a good person to settle down with? Should you really secure your future by a piece of property? Is ownership a solid rock to build your life on?

Is good good, is bad bad?

It is once again time for us to reevaluate our daily thinking. Is it natural for men to repress his desire?

Roam wild. Evolve. Stay restless. Or, just rest in their definition of peace.

A poor person needs to eat.

The first type of person will be kind enough to catch some fish, and give them to him. That’s compassion. The Saint.

The second type of person will give the bait, and even the fishing tools, and tell the poor to go catch some fish. The Investor.

The third kind of person may not give the poor anything but teach him how to fish. The Coach.

But there is also another kind of person who will say,

“People used to catch fish with their bare hands. Let’s try that together. Let’s find out how does it go. I’m sure we can do it. Then I’ll help you find The Investor and The Coach, and highly recommend them to help you because I’ve witnessed your hard work”

A Conversation with the Gate Keeper
A Simple Life Lesson from Swimming
The Nine Kisses


Pasti tidak sedikit yang pernah jalan-jalan ke pasar-pasar yang ada di Melbourne, Sydney, Amsterdam, atau kota-kota di Amerika, lalu berharap bukan dalam hati lagi, tapi diucapkan lugas, “Kalau saja pasar-pasar di Indonesia bisa seperti ini.”

“Bisa seperti ini” biasanya berarti menyenangkan untuk dikunjungi. Ada toko kelontong berdampingan dengan bakery. Ada lapak sayur-mayur yang berteman dengan kios produk-produk rancangan anak-anak muda kreatif. Ada toko kain yang berteman dengan toko t-shirt.

Pasti tidak sedikit yang pernah berharap bahwa kegiatan nge-mall setiap akhir pekan di Jakarta bisa diganti dengan sesuatu yang lain. Makan di restoran dengan harga mahal dan rasa yang begitu-begitu saja juga butuh alternatif.

Apakah itu artinya kita harus membangun sebuah gedung baru yang didisain khusus untuk jadi pasar jadi-jadian?

Pasar Santa sama sekali tidak dibangun dengan visi atau misi menjadi sebuah pasar seperti di Melbourne. Tidak ada infrastruktur fisik yang menunjukkan Pasar Santa direncanakan menjadi sebuah pasar yang bisa jadi objek wisata. Koridor-koridor sempit. Lahan parkir sangat terbatas. Sirkulasi udara tidak ideal.

Memang tidak sepatutnya Pasar Santa dipaksakan menjadi tempat nongkrong anak muda.

Namun, apakah sepatutnya lantai atas Pasar Santa menjadi mati selama tujuh tahun? Apakah sepatutnya ratusan kios terbengkalai tanpa ada yang menggubris? Apakah sepertiga dari potensi ekonomi kerakyatan di Pasar Santa patut dipadamkan begitu saja?

Selama tujuh tahun, baik Pengembang (Developer) maupun PD Pasar Jaya seolah tidak punya ide untuk menghidupkan potensi ini. Selama tujuh tahun, pemilik-pemilik kios di lantai atas melupakan investasi mereka begitu saja; listrik tidak dibayar, retribusi tidak dilunaskan, pajak tidak ditunaikan. Kios-kios tersebut menjadi kuburan bayi. Usahanya belum juga dimulai, tapi sudah divonis mati.

Padahal, Pasar Santa selalu bersih, selalu aman, dan selalu strategis. Kenapa tidak berkembang? Kenapa selama tujuh tahun PD Pasar Jaya dan Pengembang (Developer) buntu ide?

Ketika kopi dan piringan hitam menjadi daya tarik anak-anak muda dan kalangan kreatif untuk datang ke Pasar Santa, lantai atas ini jadi terlihat seksi. Anak-anak muda merasa bukan hanya tempat, tapi juga kesempatan buat memperkenalkan ide-ide kreatif mereka ke publik. Ide-ide kreatif yang akan terpaksa jadi komersil kala dibebani biaya sewa di shopping mall.

Dan, tiba-tiba saja – tanpa rencana, tanpa persiapan, tanpa perhitungan – Pasar Santa jadi wadah yang menampung banyak ide kreatif.

Ketika masyarakat semakin menerima wajah Pasar Santa yang baru, dan media selalu lalu-lalang di koridor-koridornya untuk mencari berita menarik, siapakah yang siap untuk mengelola hal yang baru ini? Tidak ada. Siapakah yang memahami dan mampu mengimplementasikan teori tentang bagaimana dinamika ekonomi kreatif dengan pedagang tradisional semestinya dibina? Tidak ada. Siapakah yang cukup berkuasa untuk menentukan batas-batas pengembangan? Tidak ada.

Lantas, siapakah yang kini sibuk menelaah berbagai kelemahan dan ketimpangan Pasar Santa? Banyak. Siapakah yang asyik menggarisbawahi kesalahan-kesalahan berbagai pihak – mulai dari anak-anak muda yang buka kios mewah, PD Pasar Jaya yang kurang tanggap, pihak Pengembang yang sibuk jualan – tanpa peduli untuk memahami situasi dan kondisi Pasar Santa secara menyeluruh? Banyak. Siapakah yang bangga karena merasa dirinya cukup pintar untuk berkomentar soal Pasar Santa tanpa merasa perlu berkunjung dan berbincang-bincang dengan para pedagang kecil, pihak Pengembang, pihak PD Pasar Jaya, dan para “penghuni baru” Pasar Santa? Banyak sekali.

Pasar Santa yang sekarang berubah secara organik. Pasar Santa yang sekarang ini adalah sebuah barang baru yang tidak ada buku manualnya. Bisa jadi banyak teori, tapi apakah teori-teori tersebut bisa diterapkan atau tidak hanyalah mereka yang benar-benar setiap hari ada di Pasar Santa yang tahu.

Berbagai langkah sudah mulai dicoba diambil sejak berbulan-bulan lalu. Penghuni-penghuni baru membentuk asosiasi yang tujuan utamanya adalah menjalin hubungan, bahkan melindungi pedagang-pedagang lama di Pasar Santa yang hidupnya sangat bergantung pada kios-kios yang mereka sewa. Advokasi dan diskusi dengan PD Pasar Jaya dan pihak Pengembang sudah dilakukan selama berbulan-bulan. Interaksi antara pedagang lama dan pedagang baru juga dijalin lewat transaksi, silaturahmi, dan acara-acara bersama.

Usaha untuk bertemu dan berdiskusi dengan Bapak Gubernur DKI pun sudah lama kami coba, tapi belum juga terwujud.

Daya tarik komersil Pasar Santa semakin mengalahkan daya tarik kreatif. Demikian banyak peminat yang mau buka usaha di Pasar Santa yang kini ramai dan hidup. Mereka bawa uang, berani bayar mahal untuk satu kios. Mungkin tanpa mereka sadari, mereka membeli kios yang minggu lalu masih ditempati pedagang baju batik untuk mereka ubah jadi toko yang menjual barang mewah.

Banyak sekali pihak yang bisa dituding bersalah. Ada yang mau mengaku, ada yang tidak. Tuding menuding ini tidak akan membawa solusi apa-apa, dan juga tidak menjadikan penudingnya tambah pintar ataupun tambah bermakna. Bukan berarti isyu ini dibiarkan saja berlalu. Karena, pada saat ini yang menjadi korban adalah pedagang kecil dan pedagang lama di Pasar Santa. Mereka yang menghidupi keluarga lewat kios berukuran 2×2 meter persegi saja.

Itu sebabnya gerakan #SustainableSanta diluncurkan. Pada saat ini, sementara menerima kritik bahkan cacian sinis dari publik, kami para usahawan baru di Pasar Santa masih berharap ada dukungan juga. Dukungan terutama untuk melindungi para pedagang kecil dan pedagang lama di Pasar Santa. Dukungan yang diawali dengan menandatangani Petisi kepada Pak Ahok untuk Melindungi Pedagang Pasar Santa ini.

Ini bukan petisi untuk menjadikan Pasar Santa sebuah pasar modern dan keren seperti di luar negeri. Ini bukan gerakan menciptakan tempat nongkrong anak gaul Jakarta. Ini bahkan lebih dari sekedar permohonan perlindungan atas sekelompok pedagang di Pasar Santa.

Ini adalah bagian dari pembelajaran bersama. Bahwa ternyata ekonomi pasar tradisional yang seharusnya menjadi fondasi kita dengan mudahnya tergerus oleh ekonomi gaya shopping mall. Ada yang memang posisinya menjadi penonton dan komentator saja. Ada yang menjadi pemerhati yang berwawasan jauh ke depan.

Apabila semua gagal, dan Pasar Santa kembali jadi lumpuh sebagian, atau jadi “shopping mall bukan, pasar juga bukan”, kami yang terlibat langsung di dalam kisah ini mungkin dirugikan secara materiil. Namun, usaha yang kami lakukan, dan pembelajaran yang kami dapatkan nilainya jauh lebih tinggi daripada sekedar adu pintar (bahkan adu lucu!) berkomentar.