Teater Tanah Air (trans: The Mother Land Theater), where Robert Wilson’s I La Galigo was performed, stands in the midst of dying monument sites. Located behind the Cultural Park station and across the miniature traditional house of Bengkulu province, the theater is a part of the replica of the archipelago established in 1970. This national park, called Taman Mini Indonesia Indah (Beautiful Indonesia in Miniature Park), is Indonesia I thought I knew 20 years ago, a version of Indonesia that has been interrogated for the last decade.

I imagined this article as a medium to share experiences, rather than theoretical way to observe an art practice. Within I will focus my own experience (as director of Gardanalla Theater) in producing three plays about youth which are Ayahku Stroke tapi Nggak Mati (My dad got stroke, but not yet dead, -2003,2005), Ah, Kamu! (Oh you! – 2004) and Jalur 17 (Track 17-2005). I will tell how Gardanalla viewed the social body of youth and performed it on stage based on everyday life studies, especially on teenage issues.

There are some interesting utterances expressed by Indonesian dancers and choreographers regarding to the concept of dancing body, which implicitly revealed the relation between the concept of body and cultural identity.

When I helped to edit the articles in the program book for Calon Arang performance, a collaboration between Retno Maruti and Bulantrisna Jelantik, Bulantrisna advised me not to forget to mention Biang Sengog as her teacher.

By the end of 2002, it was Sunday, the 28th of December, I and some actor friends from Teater Garasi visited the hamlet of Tutup Ngisor by the slope of Mount Merapi. In the hamlet that administratively belongs to the village of Sumber in Dukun Sub-district of Magelang District, Central Java, lives a community called Padepokan Tjipta Boedaja Tutup Ngisor. Visiting them was part of our creative process for Waktu Batu, a repertoire then in the making.

If a theater organization crumbles, what can be the cause? It can be either a lack of financial capital or merely a matter of financial management capability. Those who are for the first answer tend to be bigger in number. Variant of this answer refers to some structural and cultural matter of the society and government. Lacking funding institution and government support, and the absence of any regulation on tax paid by commercial companies to subsidize art and cultural activities, and also the low enthusiasm of people to attend performances are quoted as the main reasons for the breakdown a theater organization.

During my research on modern theater in Jakarta, which took place over two years (1989-1991), I often met with Roedjito at his home to talk together about many things. Our conversations, sometimes they would be hours, were not epitomized by exchanging information and facts concerning theater for the sake of my research; rather, they tended to move around the problems and meanings of life. I got a lot from Roedjito, and he (directly and otherwise) had his part to influence and shape my dissertation and, on a broader level, my thinking and view of life ever since. This writing is on various ideas and experiences I had with and of him.

In the late 1980’s when I was becoming a freshman in Universitas Gajah Mada, a university sited in the northern part of Jogja, one thing that immediately grabbed my attention was the view of the graduation day service. What stirred me was actually quite simple, that someone could actually stand being wrapped for hours in a black robe in a tropical country such as Indonesia. The heat must be excruciating. How could they endure such thing?

In the eye of the public the lean and tall guy is a professional dancer who most of the times plays humorous female characters. Didik Hadiprayitno’s image as a comic dancer surfaced during the 1980’s in Yogyakarta when he succeeded in portraying through his humorous dance performance the traditional wooden doll of nini thowok—which was commonly played by Javanese children back in the old days. The name of the doll was later to become his popular nickname. Although the name of Didik Nini Thowok might be identified with comic dances, and humor might suggest something not serious or light, the following conversation with Didik will only prove the other way around. Humor is never about fooling around; to play a good comical character requires seriousness.

A venue as one of the elements of art, in practice, has often been associated solely with its physical and material existence (a place) rather than its spatial concept which constitutes certain imagination and ambience constructed within (a space). Such restricted limitation or definition affects interaction within the performing space, either between artist and his/her space, audience and their space, or between artist and the audience.

Regarding the relationship between space and art (events), LeBur has asked me to share my (and Agung Kurniawan my husband’s) experience in managing Kedai Kebun (a restaurant cum gallery and performing space) in terms of the following questions: What does space mean for an artist? What does it mean for the audience? Which factors that may perhaps affect artists’/audience’s understanding and signification upon space? How does the venue manager ‘organize’ and mediate the traffic between the two dissenting interpretations of space? What sort of situation, then, would emerge when the two interpretations of space interact?

During the recent years, I realize how I have very much enjoyed moments when I watch performances. I like watching plays, dance performances, concerts as well as traditional performing art (particularly during my childhood). Sometimes I feel sad and disappointed when a performance fails to impress me. It is only recently, however, that I came to realize that in addition to what happens on stage, I’ve always enjoyed the moments when I merge with others that are collectively called “audience”. I really enjoy being part of the laughing crowd when there is something funny on stage, applaud at the end of every show, and feel upset when a performance fails to meet our expectation.