Tintin Wulia: Medium Video Bisa Bicara ‘Batas’ dan Kenyataan Yang Beda

Hafiz: Dalam setahun terakhir, Jurnal Footage membuat profil tokoh-tokoh penting dalam filem dan video. Yang kami pilih adalah orang-orang yang dianggap penting dalam melihat bahasa audiovisual sekarang. Sekarang, gue ingin tahu tentang background lu? Cerita sedikit, ya.

Tintin: Dari awal, ya?

Hafiz: Ya, dari awal.

Tintin: Gue sebenarnya kuliah gak berhubungan sama seni (arsitektur—red). Dibilang berhubungan, bisa sih. Tapi, menurut sekolah gue sekarang, itu gak berhubungan. Kuliah gue dulu di (jurusan) arsitektur di UNPAR (Universitas Parahyangan, Bandung). Di tahun keempat, gue cuti, sekalian kerja praktik. Terus, ambil sekolah musik di Berklee College of Music, Boston. Di situ, gue mulai kenal video. Tadinya cuma consumer. Cuma nonton. Gak bikin. Waktu di Boston, gue kerja juga di multimedia. Itu tahun 1995, masih awal banget digital video. Kami di kantor masih bilang, “Aah…, iya loh, katanya sebentar lagi ada yang namanya MiniDV. Kasetnya kecil banget.” (ketawa). Waktu itu masih belum keluar. Kita masih pakai Video8. Editing masih basic banget. Harus pakai card tambahan. Nah, di situ gue mulai belajar ngedit dan pakai kamera. Karena supervisor gue baik banget, gue bisa sering pinjam alat. Di situ mulai eksperimentasi. Waktu lulus, balik ke Indonesia dan nyelesain (sekolah) di arsitektur. Lulus arsitektur, gue balik ke Bali dan mengajar musik. Tahun 2000, tertarik lagi, karena ada footage-footage yang gue kumpulkan dari tahun 1995 sampai 1999-an itu. Gue lihat, “ini footage harusnya gue bikin sesuatu”. Pendek cerita, gue bikin sesuatu dari footage itu. Waktu itu, gak mikir ‘ini filem atau karya video?’. Gue juga gak tahu tentang video art. Gak ngerti. Terus, satu-satunya channel waktu itu, gue pikir online (internet) nih. Ada festival filem online gitu. Mereka terima-terima video pendek. Tiga menit batasnya. Jadi, gue pikir, “Ah… Tiga menit nih“. Gue bikin beberapa. Kayaknya orang suka! Jadi ada yang like-like gitu…(ketawa). Sekitar tahun 2002, tiba-tiba ada stasiun TV Australia yang kontak gue. Mereka bilang lihat dua filem gue di Market Oberhausen (Oberhausen Short Film Festival, Jerman). Terus, mereka bilang “kita bisa beli, gak?”. “Ah… Kok dibeli?” (ketawa). Tapi menarik banget? Gue ke SBS (Special Broadcasting Service) Australia. Bertemu dengan programmernya. Jadi, SBS itu beli karya gue untuk program Eat Carpet, program TV yang mempertunjukan filem dan video eksperimental gitu. Nah, di situ gue mulai lihat bahasa yang beda dari yang biasanya dilihat sebelumnya. “Wah… Ternyata banyak banget kemungkinannya”. Balik ke Indonesia, gue bikin Minikino. Karena ‘kosa-kata’ gue waktu itu (masih) dikit banget. Gue perlu lihat banyak. Dan orang lain pun perlu lihat banyak. Sesudah bikin Minikino, tahun 2003, Ruangrupa mengundang gue, ikut workshop video.

Hafiz: Ya, itu gue yang undang… hehe.

Tintin: Oh… lu yang undang? Hehe (ketawa). Oke Fiz (ketawa). Di situ sebenarnya moment penting banget buat gue. Jadi satu ‘filem’, Everything’s OK. Gue memang masih memanggilnya, filem… hehhe (ketawa). Karena waktu itu memang belum terlalu tahu sejarah video, dan segala macam. Pokoknya berkarya aja. Nah, tahun yang sama, ketemu Krisna Murti. Waktu itu, gue di Bali dan janjian ketemu. Dia cerita banyak banget tentang… dia gak cerita Nam June Paik sih, hehehe. Tapi waktu itu, dia cerita banyak tentang Documenta. Gue pertama kali mendengar kata-kata “Documenta” (ketawa). Dia juga cerita Fluxus. Di situ gue baru ngeh, “oh ya ya, sebenarnya single channel itu bukan satu-satunya bentuk. Pada dasarnya, gue belajar dari pengalaman. Benar-benar karena orang-orang seperti lu Fiz dan Krisna Murti, gitu. Yang ngajakin gue. Memang kayaknya ‘ditarik’ ke situ (seni). Tahun 2005, Istanbul Bienniale (Turki), “wah tiba-tiba kok (video) Everything’s OK masuk?”. Dan Everything’s OK, kan bikin bersama Ruangrupa juga. Itu baru pertama kali gue lihat bienniale. “Bienniale itu kayak gini, nih“. Lihat karya-karya lain juga. Gue berkenalan lebih banyak itu di situ.

Hafiz: Tahun 2001, gue bertemu para pembuat video waktu itu, Adit (Aditya Satria), Doni (Mahesa Almeida), Ridwan (Ridwan Rudianto), Bimbo (M. Syauqi), dan sebagainya. Kami di Ruangrupa, berpendapat bahwa kawan-kawan pembuat karya seni video di Indonesia tidak punya sejarah yang runut dengan sejarah seni Indonesia dan di ‘luar’. Sama seperti pengalaman lu tadi. Hanya orang-orang tertentu saja seperti Krisna Murti yang gaul. Sebenarnya ketertarikan gue bukan di video art (seni video) awalnya, lebih ke filem. Tapi ‘arusnya’ membawa gue ke sana. Pertanyaan gue selanjutnya, apa yang membuat lu jadi memilih ini (berkarya dengan medium video)? Gue kenal lu kan dari Minikino? Gue lihat karya lu, Ketok. Bagi gue, temuan bahasa seperti itu (video Ketok) belum pernah gue temukan di sini waktu itu. Kenapa bahasa video itu akhirnya jadi pilihan? Karena pilihan medium ini kan sulit di sini.

Tintin: Gimana, ya? Mungkin balik ke pertama kali gue bikin video, tahun 2000. Salah satu motivasi, yang benar-benar pendorong, ‘ini harus jadi!’. Sebelumnya eksperimentasi gue belum pernah jadi. Cuma sketsa. Yang mendorong yaa…, jenuh di kerjaan. Waktu itu, gue bikin musik buat iklan. Yang gitu-gitu, urusan sama TV. Tahun 2000 itu, gue jadi personal sekali. Memori gue (peristiwa 1998) mengganggu terus. Itu jadi inspirasi (video) Violence Against Fruits. Tahun 1998, gue baru balik dari Amerika. Sebelum ke Amerika gue belum pernah kemana-mana, hanya tinggal di Indonesia. Waktu gue mau pergi, ada teman Bokap bilang, “Wah… kamu pertama kali keluar ke Indonesia langsung ke Amerika, ya? Ini pasti beda banget tuh. Nanti, kamu balik, pasti gak jadi orang yang sama”. Gue pikir waktu itu, “gak mungkin lah. Manusia dimana-mana sama”. Jadi, selama di Amerika itu, kayaknya (gue) menolak culture shock. Baliknya, kan tahun 1998, saat Indonesia lagi mulai “turun” banget. Terus, “belang-belangnya” mulai kelihatan. Gue mulai shock di situ. “Kok Indonesia kayak gini ya? Ini negara tempat gue lahir dan besar. Tapi kok sepertinya baru kenal”. Tahun1998, waktu (peristiwa) Kerusuhan Mei (1998), gue di Bandung. Di keluarga gue itu ada sejarah (pengalaman peristiwa—red) tahun 1965, yang membuat nenek gue ketakutan. Waktu itu nenek gue telpon, “Kamu pulang saja deh”. Ada ketakutan di suaranya. Gue gak pernah kenal nenek gue kayak gitu. Sebelumnya, dia benar-benar pendiam. Gak pernah ngomong. “Nah ini kok tiba-tiba takut yaa?”. Gue gak ngerti apa yang terjadi tahun 1965. Tapi gue tahu nenek gue ngalamin (peristiwa)1965. “Apa ini kayak 1965?”. Waktu itu gue sadar, gak tahu apa-apa 1965 dan tentang Indonesia. Jadi, itu terkait dengan sejarah keluarga gue juga.  Gue gak tahu apa-apa tentang sejarah keluarga gue. Nah, tahun 2000 itu, mengganggu banget. Footage yang gue pakai di video Violence Against Fruits itu, ada footage buah dipotong-potong. “Ini kayak tahun 1998.” Akhirnya gue jadiin. Gue selalu bilang (video) itu diinspirasi oleh Peristiwa 1998. Tahun 2002, gue bikin video Ketok. Itu innocent banget. Gak ada maksud apa-apa. Tapi orang yang ngelihat jadi kayak ‘urban’, dan ‘legenda urban’. Kayak di video Ketok, (konotasinya—red) itu pasti ‘diculik’ (penculikan—red).

Hafiz: Bagi gue pribadi, relasi sosial politiknya (pada karya Ketok), bukan hanya game tentang ada tokek dan sebagainya. Seperti Violence Against Fruits, itu sangat intim banget. Sangat politis, ya? Pada Ketok dan Violence Against Fruits, bagaimana lu menarasikan sejarah? Karena gak tahu sejarah keluarga lu, sejarah Indonesia, dan sejarah seni gak tahu juga.

Tintin: Sejarah seni… benar (tertawa). Tahun 2006, gue kerja sama dengan Theatrework, Singapura. Proyeknya tentang diaspora. Mereka mulai deketin gue, sekitar tahun 2004.

Hafiz: Waktu ada Project Flying Circus, ya?

Tintin: Ya, benar. Kita sama-sama ke Project Flying Circus, ya. Waktu itu, gue sudah sadar, “kayaknya gue gak tahu ini dan itu”. Kayaknya nemu jalan untuk tahu. Waktu itu, sejarah seni gue juga masih belum tahu, seperti yang lu bilang tadi. Pokoknya masih kabur begitu (tertawa). Tapi proyek diaspora ini memberi gue jalan. Pertama kali mulai meriset. Risetnya benar-benar personal. Jadi, gue bukan baca buku, tapi balik ke keluarga gue. Terus gue ketemu misalnya, salah satu adik nenek gue, sebelum tahun 1965, dia pergi. Dia disuruh milih kewarganegaraan. Dia pilih pergi. Padahal dia belum pernah keluar Indonesia sama sekali. Jadi, dia pilih pergi-pulang. Dia ke RRC (Republik Rakyat Cina). Sampai di situ, gak tahu bahasanya. Gak tahu apa-apa. Ngumpul saja sama orang-orang Bali lagi. Tahun 1965, Revolusi Kebudayaan (di Cina), mereka lari ke Hongkong, terus ke Kanada. Dan akhirnya ke San Fransisco. Pokoknya jadi “nomad”, hilang akar. Dan Bokap gue, waktu gue kecil, dia ke Hongkong. Balik-balik dia cerita, “Wah itu keluarga ‘gila’ ya. Bahasa Indonesia gak bisa. Bahasa Cina juga gak bener”. Mereka ngobrol sama Bokap gue pakai bahasa Bali (tertawa). Jadi, ‘bali-nya’ masih kuat banget. Waktu gue ketemu sama mereka di San Fransisco, bahasa Inggris mereka juga gak bagus.

Hafiz: Lu ngomong bahasa Bali sama mereka?

Tintin: Ngomong bahasa Bali. Pokoknya jadi dekat gitu. Justru kayak kampung halaman banget. Itu yang tetap mereka bawa. Sekitar tahun 2005, gue ketemu Sobron Aidit. Waktu itu gue cuma bawa kamera kecil, miniDV. Pokoknya merekam, pembicaraannya. Gue merasa ada paralel. Jadi sejarah yang gue pelajari waktu itu, sejarah personal yang berhubungan dengan sejarah negara. Kalau sejarah negara, kan kayaknya politis. Sejarah negara, gue sudah belajar di SD (Sekolah Dasar), PMP (Pendidikan Moral Pancasila) dan PSPB (Pendidikan Sejarah Perjuangan Bangsa). Waktu SMA (Sekolah Menengah Atas) dulu harus menghafal itu. Menghafal Supersemar (Surat Perintah Sebelas Maret). Terus, waktu gue kuliah, ketahuan bahwa surat yang aslinya, gak ada. Gondok banget (tertawa).

Hafiz: Gue balik ke awal, video awal lu, Violence Against Fuits, seperti memilah-milah persoalan identitas. Sekarang gue datang ke sini (Pameran Tintin Wulia), persoalan identitas masih ada. Apa masih penting identitas itu?

Tintin: Gue rasa identitas itu cuma efek samping. Misalnya (peristiwa) 1965 itu, kalau gue melihatnya, dia sebenarnya perang. ‘Perang Dingin’. Banyak  yang mati. Tapi, itu perang dinginnya seperti ‘kalau ada dinding digeser’, “Ssreeeett” (menggerakan tangan di meja). Yang dekat-dekat dinding, yaaa…mati semua. Jadi, kalau gue pikir, sebenarnya masalahnya ‘batas’. Identitas itu kan ‘mendefinisi’. Kalau lu lihat gue, mata gue sipit, “wah… ini pasti orang Cina nih”, begitu kan? Nah, itu sebenarnya ‘batas’ yang ‘badan’. Jadi kalau lu datang ke sini, lihat semua karya gue tentang identitas, sebenarnya pendekatannya bukan dari situ. Tapi dari (persoalan) ‘batas’ itu. Di situ, gue lebih banyak menggali. Meskipun identitas lu sama, di KTP (Kartu Tanda Penduduk), kita sama-sama orang Indonesia, ‘batas’ itu tetap ada. Gue lebih tertarik menggali ke situ, ‘batas’. Soal nanti dia keluar seperti apa, kelihatan seperti karya tentang identitas, yaa… Itu sudah bukan wilayah gue lagi.

Akbar: Visual property yang lu gunakan dalam karya dalam membahas ‘batas’ seperti, buah, binatang, dan nyamuk…

Tintin: Iya. Organik semua ya? (tertawa) Ah… gak juga. Bunga itu memang integral di karya itu. Dia bisa busuk. Instalasinya itu memang instalasi yang (sumeral), gak lama. Karena gue pakai video, itu dokumentasi. Seperti karya video…. Jakarta itu. Event-nya cuma satu kali. Video kamera gue cuma satu. Tapi akhirnya gue keluarin dalam delapan kenyataan.

Hafiz: Difragmentasikan, ya?

Tintin: Iya. Difragmentasi. Tiap-tiap itu (bagian), gak ada yang sama. Tiap layar gak ada yang sama. Salah satunya ada teksnya, “out of the different layers of realities, what I prefer is rarely the truth”. Waktu di video Violence Against Fruits, gue ngomong tentang hubungan manusia, anjing, teman dan musuh. Sementara, buah kita potong-potong, karena dia gak bisa teriak. Nyamuk juga. Kalau nyamuk ada sayapnya, dia bisa lewat batas. Sejarah nyamuk itu menarik banget. Nyamuk-nyamuk dibawa oleh oleh kapal yang membawa budak. Penyakit yang dibawa melintas ‘batas’. Akhirnya menimbulkan ‘batas’ lagi, antara yang kebal dan yang nggak. Makhluk organik? Pertanyaan yang menarik (tertawa).

Hafiz: Soal ‘batas’ tadi, lu kan seperti seniman yang benar jalan sendiri (tidak masuk scene arus besar seni—red). Gue di Ruangrupa, kan ramai. Lu sudah kemana-mana, sendiri. Waktu pameran di Galeri Nasional Indonesia, karya lu yang berbentuk paspor berjejer. Dugaan gue waktu itu adalah tentang identitas. Ternyata batas-batas. ‘Batas’ yang lu lintasi, apa menjadi semacam pemicu untuk bisa membaca ‘sejarah’ tadi? Pada pameran kali ini, ada tembok yang dipecahkan. Jadi ‘sesuatu’ banget. Apa ini persoalan batas-batas itu? Lu sudah melintas kemana-mana, dalam artian batas-batas fisik dan wilayah. Setiap batas ada sejarahnya. Ketika lu menjadi orang yang tanpa batas-batas, apakah melihat lebih jernih?

Tintin: Gak begitu. Kalau menurut gue, gak ada orang sekarang ini yang gak dibatasi. Beberapa bulan lalu, gue ketemu seorang kurator Singapura yang tinggal di London. Dia lihat karya gue yang Paspor itu. Terus dia bilang, “iya ya… Sekarang ini sebenarnya dunia ini gak ada ‘batas’ ya”. “Nggak”, gue bilang. Justru sebenarnya ‘batas’ itu, selama manusia masih ada, ‘batas’ akan selalu ada. Di bahasa kita (Bahasa Indonesia) saja begitu.  Kita punya definisi ‘cangkir’, ‘cangkir’ beda dengan ‘gelas’. “Eh ini cangkir bukan sih?” (tertawa sambil memegang cangkir) Ini jendela. Ini jendela bukan dinding. Terus apa? Jadi pembedaan-pembedaan itu bakal selalu ada. Bahkan mungkin perlu bagi kita. Bagi kita untuk hidup. Orang yang buta warna, gak bisa bedakan warna, hijau atau biru, dia akan jadi repot. Sebenarnya, pengennya gak ada ‘batas’. Batas itu sebenarnya juga bikin kita repot. Kalau gue pengennya, kalau mau keluar Indonesia, gak usah pakai paspor lah. Terus pertanyaannya, apakah karena gue jadi manusia yang ‘tanpa batas’, apa gue melihat menjadi lebih jernih? Kayaknya nggak sih. Maksudnya, gue bukan manusia bukan tanpa ‘batas’ begitu. Gue masih punya paspor. Untuk menjadi ‘tanpa batas’, perlu suatu ‘pertanda batas’. Batas itu gak akan hilang. Itu yang menjadikan dia (batas) topik yang menarik bagi gue. Gitu. Dia gak akan hilang. Karena dia akan selalu bergeser. Nah, bergesernya ini, kita yang sering lupa. Kita pikir ‘batas’ itu kayak jendela ini (memegang jendela di sebuah instalasi gerobak) Tapi lupa ada rodanya. Kayak peta, ‘garisnya seperti’. Kita lupa bahwa kalaupun batasnya tetap, kerak bumi bergerak, sehingga batas itu bisa bergeser. Tanpa kita yang menggesernya. Jadi, gue merasa banyak banget yang bisa di gali dari persoalan ‘batas’.

Hafiz: Oke, sekarang kita sudah ngomongin ‘batas’. Yang basic, kenapa lu memilih (medium) video?

Tintin: Oke. Kenapa gue memilih video, ya? (tertawa) Iya ya? Gue belajar arsitektur, bisa saja jadi pematung gitu kan? Gue belajar musik, bisa saja jadi sound artist. Kenapa video? Mungkin karena gue belajar video sendiri. Kayaknya kalau gue pilih sekolah filem dulu, mungkin gue gak akan memilih video, loh (tertawa). Karena ada rumus-rumusnya. Maksudnya kita gak mencari sendiri….

Hafiz: Rumus wajib. Dan lu harus melewati itu.

Tintin: Iya. Mungkin jalannya lebih panjang, Fiz.  Kalau video, ini kan gue temukan sendiri. Jadi, kesannya gak ada batasnya. Tapi justru waktu gue mulai bikin, kenyataannya gue ‘terbatas’ waktu itu. Gue kan gak ngerti bahwa instalasi video itu bisa lebih dari satu channel (kanal). Sejalan dengan pembelajaran, pengalaman gue, bahwa banyak bentuk yang lain. Sekarang, gue gak hanya pakai video. Gue juga pakai ‘objek’ dan lain-lainnya. Jadi, kenapa pilih pakai video? Mungkin waktu itu satu-satunya yang mungkin untuk dilakukan. Tapi sekarang, video sudah jadi bagian dari sesuatu yang lebih besar lah.

Hafiz: Pilihan medium video, kan bisa politis sifatnya? Ada yang bilang “Dalam sejarah, semua medium seni itu sudah dikuasai oleh laki-laki. Dan video lah yang belum dikuasai”.

Tintin: Oh gitu ya?(tertawa)

Hafiz: Statement apa yang ada di kepala lu tentang pilihan medium video?

Tintin: Iya, gue tahu waktu itu Nam June Paik, ‘video’ itu sebagai counter-nya TV. Bukan itu motivasi gue kayaknya. Selama ini, fokus gue lebih di karater video itu. Bahwa dia merekam sesuatu, apa yang kita anggap sebagai kenyataan. Lalu bisa mengembalikannya dalam bentuk yang tiba-tiba beda sama sekali. Itu yang jadi fokus gue. Apakah itu politis, gue juga gak tahu. ‘Bentuk kenyataan’ itu juga apa? Isu yang menarik. Karena di dalam topik perbatasan, apa yang negara ajarkan kepada itu kan yang menjadi ‘kenyataan’ yang dibikin oleh Negara. Kalau dilihat ke arah situnya, perhatian gue ke realitas itu. Gue pakai video untuk merepresentasikan realitas yang beda. Itu aja sih. Maksudnya, gue gak terlalu berpikir feminisme atau apa gitu (tertawa kecil). Melawan media, ya… melawan media mainstream. Bagaimana pun juga gue di bidang yang bukan mainstream. Itu sudah jelas. Tetapi yang membuat gue tertarik, dan masih bikin karya dengan video, karena lewat video gue bisa bicara tentang ‘batas’ itu lagi dan kenyataan yang berbeda…

Hafiz: Nah, sekarang gue mau tanya, pengalaman video yang secara personal, dari kecil. Pertama kali lu lihat medium video itu, kapan?

Tintin: Videonya, ya?

Hafiz: Teknologi.

Tintin: Teknologi videonya ya? Em… waktu kecil, Bokap gue punya kamera video Beta. Gue gak ngerti juga sih yaa.

Hafiz: Lu nonton pakai kaset video, gak?

Tintin: Nonton… nonton…

Hafiz: Nah nonton video mulai kapan?

Tintin: Nonton video kan, ehhh dari kapan ya? Soalnya ada yang lebih awal dari itu Fiz, dari filem 8mm!

Hafiz: Jadi, lu punya yang kamera 8mm?

Tintin: Bukan gue. Oom gue punya. Terus ada Oom yang lain punya proyektornya. Jadi, mereka kadang-kadang yang, “Ayo anak-anak!”. Anak-anak dikumpulin. “Ayo kamu bersila di situ! Ayo sekarang pergi… pergi…!” Diproyeksiin lagi, ada kita bersila. Tiba-tiba hilang! (tertawa) Itu pengalaman paling awal. Setelah itu, waktu ada video, gue ingat kita jadi jarang ke bioskop.

Hafiz: Gue tanyain pengalaman video, pengalaman visual, pengalaman audiovisual dan sebagainya untuk tahu latar yang paling basic dari proses berkarya lu.

Tintin: Oh begitu. Gue latihan komposisi musik dari kecil. Gue nggak belajar khusus komposisi. Bokap gue itu, orang yang suka teknologi. Jadi, begitu ada komputer baru, beli! Nah, komputer yang pertama kita itu ZX 81 (Sinclair, Timex Corporation—red), Tahun 1981 keluarnya.

Hafiz: Oh ya?

Tintin: Itu yang masih cuma keyboard pet, dihubungkan ke TV. Datanya pakai kaset.

Hafiz: Oh ya…?

Tintin: Iya. (tertawa) Itu bisa punya dia. Gue gak habis pikir sekarang. Tahun 1981, dia beli di mana sih?

Hafiz: Masih ada sampai sekarang?

Tintin: Mestinya masih ada.

Hafiz: Bisa dipamerkan tuh.

Tintin: (tertawa)… Sejarah teknologi tahun 1981. Nah, waktu dia beli komputer tahun 1985, Apple Mac Plus. Yang kotak gitu loh. Nah, komputer itu ada software yang untuk komposisi 4 suara. Ini spesifik banget. Waktu gue kuliah musik, baru tahu bahwa itu training komposisi yang paling dasar, yang dilakukan oleh Bach (komposer, Johan Sebastian Bach—red). Waktu itu, gue gak tahu. Gue cuma coba-coba. Karena komputer itu kan gampang. Gue bisa langsung dengar. Gue merasa latihan itu secara gak langsung, belajar struktur, dan harmoni. Itu sangat berguna waktu gue bikin video. Sekarang pun, kalau gue ngedit, kan timebase. Skripsi arsitektur gue pun, arsitektur sebagai karya timebase, “bahwa kita masuk suatu bangunan, gak mungkin ngerti bangunan itu seluruhnya. Kita mengerti bangunan itu secara linier dalam waktu tertentu, dalam garis waktu tertentu”. Nah, itu yang sangat membantu waktu gue bikin video.

Hafiz: Pertanyaan terakhir, selanjutnya apa?

Tintin: Selanjutnya apa? Gue gak tahu. Gue juga gak berpikir tentang itu. Tapi begini, gue merasa bahwa fokus di ‘batas’ ini bakal bisa jadi bensin gue lah untuk berapa tahun ke depan. Gue mungkin, gak tahu, Fiz, apa selanjutnya? Kita lihat saja.

Hafiz: Minimal tahun depan lu harus selesaikan Ph.D, kan?

Tintin: Tahun depan harus nyelesaiin Ph.D. Tapi maksudnya lokasi gue dimana, gue gak tahu. Gue sampai Juni depan (2011) di sini. Tapi setelah itu belum tahu.

Hafiz: Makasih.

Tintin: Sama-sama Fiz (saling tos).

Tentang Tintin Wulia
Tintin Wulia lahir di Bali, pada November 1972. Saat ini tinggal di Jakarta dan Melbourne, Australia. Pada tahun 1991, ia menempuh pendidikan di Jurusan Arsitektur, Universitas Katolik Parahyangan (UNPAR), lulus pada tahun 1998. Pada masa pendidikan arsitektur di UNPAR, Tintin mendalami Film Scoring di Berklee College of Music, Amerika Serikat. Dari kampus ini, ia menerima Bachelor of Music dengan predikat Magna Cum Laude. Pada tahun 2007, ia menerima Australian Postgraduate Awards untuk menempuh pendidikan pasca sarjana di Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) Australia. Saat ini, Tintin Wulia adalah PhD Candidate untuk Fine Art di kampus yang sama.

Beberapa pameran dan presentasi penting Tintin Wulia; Worm Festival 5: House, Plastique Kinetic Worms,Singapore (2003); 19^th Hamburg International Short Film Festival, Germany (2003); 16^th Singapore International Film Festival (2003); 11^th New York Underground Film Festival, USA (2004); Indonesia Under Construction, Witte de With Center for Contemporary Art, Rotterdam, the Netherlands (2004); 9^th Pusan International Film Festival, South Korea (2004); Space and Shadows, Haus der Kurturen der Welt, Germany (2005); Yokohama Trienniale, Japan (2005); Istanbul Bienniale, Turkey (2005); Insomnia, Institute of Contemporary Arts, UK (2005); 34^th International Film Festival Rotterdam, The Netherlands (2005); Hiding City, Seeking City, FACT at Liverpool Bienniale, UK (2006); Everything’s OK, The White Cube, Norrlands Operan, Sweden (2006); Trial Balloons, Museo de Arte Contempiraneo de Castilla y Leon, Spain (2006); Jakarta Bienniale XII (2006); Geopolitics of the Animation, Cetro Andaluz de Arte Contemporaneo, Spain (2007); 12^th International Media Art Bienniale, Poland (2007); Mapping the City, Stedelijk Museum Bureau Amsterdam, the Netherlands (2007); OK.Video Sub/Version, 3^rd Jakarta International Video Festival, The National Gallery of Indonesia (2007); Plug In #21, Van Abemuseum, the Netherlands (2007); Invasion, Motive Gallery, the Netherlands (2008); Be(com)ing Dutch; Stedelijk Van Abbemuseum, the Netherlands (2008); Landing Soon #5, Cemeti Art House (2008); Diaspora, Endinburgh Festival, UK (2009); Jakarta Bienniale XIII (2009); 38^th International Film Festival Rotterdam, the Netherlands (2009); Some Rooms, Osage Gallery, Hong Kong (2009); The Problem of Asia, Para/Site Art Space at Chalk Horse, Australia (2010); e-flux video rental, Fondazione Giuliani per l’arte contemporanea, Italia (2010); Lost Words: Asian Traffic, Gallery 4A, Australia (2010); Deconstruction of A Wall, Ark Galerie, Jakarta (2010).

Hafiz: Within the past year, Jurnal Footage has been working to profile important figures in film and video. We select the ones we consider central in the current field of audiovisual language. Now, I would like to learn about your background. Can you please tell us a little?

Tintin: From the beginning?

Hafiz: Yes, from the beginning.

Tintin: I actually went to a school unrelated to art (architecture—ed.). Well, we can say it’s related, actually. But, according to the science I’m studying currently, it’s not. I studied architecture at Parahyangan University, Bandung. In my senior year, I chose to take my leave allowance, also to start on my apprenticeship. Then, I attended music school at Berklee College of Music, Boston. I started to know video there. I was just a consumer, previously. All I knew is to watch. I never created. When in Boston, I worked in a multimedia industry. It was 1995, the very beginning of digital video. At office, we used to remark, “Hey, I heard there’ll be this thing called Mini DV. The tape is really small.” (laughs) We haven’t had those yet. We still used Video8. Editing was very basic. We had to use additional card. See, that was when I started to learn editing and utilizing camera. Since my supervisor was very kind, I was often able to borrow devices. From then on I began to experiment. When I graduated, I returned to Indonesia and resumed my architecture studies. Graduated from architecture, I returned to Bali and taught music. In 2000, I was intrigued to see the footages I managed to gather from 1995 to around 1999. I thought, “I should make something out of these footages.” In short, I created something from there. Back then I never thought about whether it’s a film or video. I didn’t know anything about video art. The only channel back then, I thought, was online (from the internet). I saw there’s an online film festival. They opened submission for short videoworks. The duration was limited up to three minutes. So I thought, “Ah, three minutes!” I made some works. Seemed like people liked them! So, some people were leaving positive comments . . . (laughs) Some time around 2002, out of the blue, an Australian TV channel contacted me. They said they saw two of my films in Market Oberhausen (Oberhausen Short Film Festival, Germany). They asked if they can buy my works. I thought, “Ah . . . Buy my works?” But it’s interesting. I went to SBS (Special Broadcasting Service) Australia. I met with the programmer. So, they bought my works for a program Eat Carpet, a TV program showcasing experimental films and videos. There, I came to see a language different from what I previously knew. I saw its many possibilities. Returning to Indonesia, I initiated Minikino. Since my vocab was very limited back then, I needed to see more. And people also needed to see more. Post the establishment of Minikino, in 2003, Ruangrupa invited me to join their video workshop.

Hafiz: Yes, that was me who invited you, haha.

Tintin: Oh, it was you? Haha (laughs). Okay, Fiz (laughs). I was a crucial moment for me, to be frank. I made a film from there, Everything’s OK. I still call it film, haha (laughs), since I didn’t really know anything about the history of video and all that. I simply made works. In the same year, I met Krisna Murti. I was in Bali at the time and we arranged to meet. He told me a lot about . . . Well, he didn’t tell me about Nam June Paik, for sure, hahaha, but he did tell me a lot about Documenta. It’s probably the very first time I heard the word “Documenta” (laughs). He also told me about Fluxus. Then I came to understand that single channel is the only form. Basically, I learned from experiences. It is, in fact, from people like you and Krisna Murti who took me in. So it seemed like I was drawn there (to art). In 2005, during Istanbul Bienniale (Turkey), I was surprised to know Everything’s OK was selected for exhibition. Everything’s OK was co-created together with Ruangrupa, right? It was the first time I went to a bienniale, “So this is what a bienniale is like.” I also saw other works. I got to know more from that event.

Hafiz: In 2001, I met with several videomakers during the time, Adit (Aditya Satria), Doni (Mahesa Almeida), Ridwan (Ridwan Rudianto), Bimbo (M. Syauqi), and others. We in Ruangrupa think that our videomaker friends lack the chronological knowledge of Indonesian and foreign art. Like the way you experienced it. Only certain people like Krisna Murti who mingles. My initial interest was not in video, actually, but in film. But ‘the current’ brought me there. My next question would be: what made you turn to this (making art with video medium)? I knew you from Minikino, right? I saw your work, Ketok. To me, I never encountered any language findings such as that (in Ketok) here before. Why did you eventually choose that particular video language? Since I know the options for this medium is kind of difficult here.

Tintin: Let’s see, how was it, ya? It probably went far back to when I made my first video in 2000. One of my motivations, my main booster, “This has to be!”—before, all my experiments were never actually finished, all of them ended as sketches—so, what boosted me was the boredom at work. Back then, I made commercial ad jingles. TV-related stuff. But in 2000, I took a very personal turn. My memory (on 1998 riots) kept bugging me. It was the inspiration for (video) Violence Against Fruits. In 1998, I just returned from the States. I never went abroad before, I just stayed in Indonesia the whole time. Before I left, my father’s friend once remarked, “Wow, the first time you’re going abroad and you’re going to the States. It’ll be a life-changing experience. Later, when you return, you will not be the same person.” And I thought, “No way. Men are all the same anywhere.” So, during the years I was in the States, it’s as if I rejected the idea of culture shock. When I returned, it was 1998, when the country was in its lowest point. I started to see the country’s dark sides. It was then I started to feel shocked. “Is this Indonesia? It’s supposed to be my motherland, where I was born and raised. Why I do feel like I just know this country recently?” In 1998, when the riots took place, I was in Bandung. My family had a history with the 1965 incident, something that terrified my grandmother. At the time, my grandmother called, “You better come home.” I sensed fear in her voice. I never knew my grandma like that. Before, she’s very quiet, never talked much. Suddenly at that moment, she showed her fear. I don’t know what happened in 1965. All I know is she witnessed that period. Was this a reminiscent of 1965? Then I realized, I didn’t know a thing about 1965 and Indonesian history at large. So it’s related with my family history as well. I didn’t know anything about my family’s history. See, that year in 2000, it bugged me. The footage I used in Violence Against Fruits, there’s a footage of fruits being sliced. It’s similar to what happened in 1998. So I made it happen. I always say it’s inspired by the 1998 incident. In 2002, I made Ketok. It’s very innocent. I never meant anything to be implied there. Somehow, people interpreted it in an urban way, like an ‘urban legend’. In Ketok, for example, its connotation seemed to lead people to think about the abduction of several activists.

Hafiz: To me personally, its (Ketok) sociopolitical relation doesn’t solely lie in the game that presented gecko and so on. Like in Violence Against Fruits, it’s very intimate. Very political, is it? In Ketok and Violence Against Fruits, how did you narrate history? Since you don’t know the history of your family, the history of this country, and even the history of art.

Tintin: History of art . . . correct (laughs). In 2006, I cooperated with Theatrework, Singapore. The project was about diaspora. They approached me around 2004.

Hafiz: Was it Project Flying Circus?

Tintin: Yes, correct. We went to Project Flying Circus together, right? That time, I’ve come to realize that I still don’t know about a lot of things, and that event gave me a way to understand. Well, I still don’t about art at that time, as you said. Everything was a blur (laughs), but the diaspora project gave me a way. It was my first time to research. My research was very personal. So it wasn’t a text-based research, but it returned me to my family instead. I met, for instance, my grandma’s younger sister. Prior 1965, she left the country. The government asked her to choose nationality. She chose to leave, eventhough she never got out of this country before. So she chose to go back and forth. She went to China. While she’s there, she didn’t understand the language. She knew absolutely nothing. She just joined Balinese communities there. In 1965, the Cultural Revolution took place in China, they ran off to Hang Kong, later to Canada, and lastly to San Francisco. They became nomads, losing their roots. My father, when I was a kid, he went to Hong Kong to see them. When he returned, he said, “They’re crazy. They can’t speak Indonesian. Can’t speak Chinese, either.” They converse with my father in Balinese (laughs). So their Balinese roots are still very strong. When I met them in San Francisco, they didn’t speak English very well, either.

Hafiz: So you converse in Balinese?

Tintin: In Balinese. We got close. It felt a lot like home. That’s what they carry everywhere. Around 2005, I met Sobron Aidit. I just brought a compact camera, miniDV. I plainly recorded our conversation. I felt there’s a parallel that connected us. The history I’ve come to know, the personal history in connection to the history of our nation. If we talk about national history, it all seems very political. I learned national history in elementary schools through subjects Pancasila Moral Education and The National Revolution Education. In high school, we were required to remember all that stuff, such as the March 11 Decree. It was only later, when we went to college, we discovered that the decree never existed. What larks (laughs).

Hafiz: I will return to the beginning. Your first video, Violence Against Fruits, seems to sort out identity issues. Here, now, I come to your exhibition, I still see identity issues being put forward. Is it still an important issue for you?

Tintin: I see identity as a side effect. For instance, the 1965 incident. The way I see it, it’s essentially a war. ‘Cold War’. Lots of people died. It’s like a cold war, like a wall being slid aside (imitating the sound of a sliding object, while illustrating with her hand sliding over on the table). The ones standing close to the wall will die. So, in my opinion, it’s actually an issue of ‘boundaries’. Identity is defining, right? If you see me, I have oriental eyes, you’d think “She must be a Chinese”, am I right? See, that’s physical boundaries. So if you come here and see that my works speak of identity, I must say that’s not the direction my approach came from. It’s rather about ‘boundaries’. I explored more there. Although our identities are the same, in our IDs we’re both Indonesians, ‘boundaries’ remain. I’m more inclined to dig into that ‘boundaries’. If it turns out to appear like an exploration on identity, well . . . it’s beyond my control.

Akbar: The visual properties you use in exploring ‘boundaries’, such as fruits, animals, and mosquito . . .

Tintin: Yes, they’re all organic, aren’t they? (laughs) Well . . . not really. The flower is integral in the work. It decomposes. It’s meant to be an ephemeral installation, only for a short period of time. Since I used video, it’s documented. Like that video on Jakarta. The event took place only once. I had only one camera. But I reproduced it in eight realities.

Hafiz: Fragmented, is it?

Tintin: Yes, it is. Each part, no part is the same. Each screen displays different thing. One of them has text, “out of the different layers of realities, what I prefer is rarely the truth”. In Violence Against Fruits, I talked about the relationships between man, dog, friend, and enemy. We slice fruits because they can’t cry. The same thing goes with the mosquito. Mosquitoes have wings, they can trespass boundaries. The history of mosquito is actually very interesting. They were carried by the ships that transport slaves. A disease-carrier accidently brought over the ‘boundaries’. It created another ‘boundaries’, between the impervious and the ones who are not. Organic being? Interesting question (laughs).

Hafiz: About ‘boundaries’. You seem to be an independent artist (non-mainstream—ed.). I join Ruangrupa, we’re a crowd. You, on the other hand, you have travelled solo. In the exhibition held in the National Gallery, they displayed your work with passports placed in row. On my visit, I thought it was about identity, but apparently you meant to talk about boundaries. The ‘boundaries’ you passed, is it somewhat of a trigger in reading the history you mentioned earlier? In your exhibition today, there’s a wall being deconstructed. It’s really ‘something’. Is this about ‘boundaries’ you talked about? You have crossed over to many places, in terms of physical and geographical boundaries. Each boundary has its history. Once you become a borderless person, do you see things clearer?

Tintin: It’s not like that. In my opinion, nobody is unrestricted nowadays. Several months ago, I met a Singaporean curator who lives in London. He saw my work with passports. Then he said, “Quite right. The world today is actually borderless.” I said, “No.” ‘Boundaries’, in fact, will remain existent as long as man exists. This is also the case in our (Indonesian) language. We have a definition for ‘cup’, ‘cup’ is different from ‘glass’. Hold on, is this a cup? (laughs while holding a cup) This is a window. A window, not a wall. What else? Such differentiation will continue to exist forever. They are probably necessary for us to live. Colorblind people, they can’t differentiate colors, whether it’s green or blue, and it complicates them. Actually, we want to be borderless. Borders only complicate. If you ask me, I want to go out of this country without requiring a passport. And regarding your question, since I’ve become ‘borderless’, will I see things clearer? I don’t think so. I mean, I’m not ‘borderless’ in that sense. I still have passport. To become ‘borderless’, we need ‘border signifiers’. Borders will not perish. That’s what makes it so interesting to me. It will perish because it will always shift. See, we often forget about this shift. We think ‘boundaries’ are like this window here (touches a window in a cart installation). But we forget that it has wheels. Like cartography, maps have border lines. We forget that even when the boundaries remain, the earth’s crust shifts, altering the boundaries without us touching it. So I think there’s ample to explore with regard to ‘boundaries’.

Hafiz: Okay. We have talked about ‘boundaries’. Now, the most basic: why did you choose video (medium)?

Tintin: Okay. Why did I choose video? (laughs) Good one. I studied architecture, I might as well be a sculptor, right? I studied music, might as well be a sound artist. Why video? Probably because I studied video autodidactically. If I studied film, I might not chose video anyway in the end (laughs), since they have formulas in filmmaking. I mean, you don’t go seek things on your own . . .

Hafiz: Mandatory rules. And you need to go through that.

Tintin: Yes. It might take a longer path, Fiz. With video, I find things on my own. So it seems limitless. Yet when I began to work on a video, in reality I was ‘limited’. I didn’t understand that video installation can contain more than one channel. In due course, through my learning, my experience, I observed there are many other forms. Now, I don’t utilize only video. I use ‘objects’ and other things as well. So, why video? Maybe because it’s the only plausible thing to do. Well, but now, video is of course a part of something greater than itself.

Hafiz: The decision to choose video, it can be political, right? Some say, “In history, all art medium is already dominated by men. Only video remains unmanned.”

Tintin: Does it? (laughs)

Hafiz: What statement do you have in mind by selecting video as your medium?

Tintin: Well, at the time I knew Nam June Paik, video as counterculture to TV. I don’t think it’s my motivation, though. So far, I’ve focused more to the character of the video itself—how it records something, what we consider as reality, and how video is able to feed it back to us in a completely different form. That’s my focus. Whether it’s political or not, I myself don’t know. What’s the ‘form of reality’ anyway? An interesting issue. Because in boundaries issues, what the government conveyed is the ‘reality’, created by the State. Seeing into such direction, my focus lies in the ‘reality’. I used video to represent a different reality. That’s all. I mean, I don’t really think about it in feminist perspective or anything (laughs). And about being against the mainstream, well . . . countering mainstream media. I am in a non-mainstream field, in any other way, that’s obvious. But what draws me, and encourages me to create works with video medium, is because through video I can speak of those ‘boundaries’ yet again and in different realities . . .

Hafiz: Ah, what I want to ask you now: your personal experience with video, the one you had when you’re a kid. When was the first time you encountered video medium?

Tintin: The video?

Hafiz: The technology.

Tintin: The video technology? Umm . . . when I was little, my father had a Beta video camera. But I don’t really get it anyway.

Hafiz: Did you experience watching video tapes?

Tintin: I did, I did.

Hafiz: Well, when did you start watching videos?

Tintin: Watching videos was, errr, when was it? ‘Cos I remember something earlier than that, Fiz. An 8mm film!

Hafiz: So, you had 8mm camera?

Tintin: It wasn’t me. It was my uncle. And another uncle had a projector. So there are times when they would gather the little kids and say, “Come on, Children! You sit there! Okay, now go . . . go!” It was then projected. It had us there, sitting cross-legged, and then gone! (laughs) That was my earliest experience. Afterwards, when we had video, I remember we no longer visited the cinemas as often as before.

Hafiz: I tried to ask you on your video experience, visual experience, audiovisual experience, etc, to find out the most fundamental background in your creative process.

Tintin: Oh, I see. I was trained in music composition since I was little. I didn’t learn it specifically. But my father, he loves technology. So, each time they had a new computer model, he’d definitely buy one! Our first computer was ZX 81 (Sinclair, Timex Corporation—ed.), it was launched in 1981.

Hafiz: Really?

Tintin: The one with keyboard pad only, connected to your TV. The data was stored in cassette tape.

Hafiz: Really?

Tintin: Yeah (laughs). He got that one. I still can’t figure it out until now. It was 1981—where on earth did he get that?

Hafiz: Do you still have it now?

Tintin: Supposedly.

Hafiz: You can make an exhibition with that.

Tintin: (laughs) History of technology in 1981. And in 1985, he got himself an Apple Mac Plus. The square one. They had 4-way sound composition software installed in it. It’s very specific. When I studied music, I just found out that it’s actually the most principal composition training, as practiced by Bach (Johann Sebastian Bach, composer—ed.). Back then, I didn’t know that. I just tried it out since computer-based composition is rather easy to learn. I can immediately hear the result. I feel that experience is an indirect learning in structure and harmony. In turn it became useful when I start making my own videos. Even now, when I edit—it’s time-based, right?—it’s useful. My thesis in architecture—architecture as a time-based work—if we enter a certain construction, we will not be able to understand the construction entirely. We comprehend the structure linearly in certain time, in particular string of time. See, that helps me in making videos.

Hafiz: Last question: what’s next?

Tintin: What’s next? I don’t know. I haven’t thought about that. But here, I think that my focus in ‘boundaries’ will serve as my fuel for the next several years. I probably—well, I don’t know, Fiz. We’ll see what’s next.

Hafiz: At least you need to complete your PhD education next year, right?

Tintin: Indeed, I need to finish my PhD. But afterwards, I still don’t know where I will locate myself. I will still be here until next June (2011). But I don’t know what then.

Hafiz: Thanks.

Tintin: You’re welcome, Fiz (high-five).

About Tintin Wulia
Tintin Wulia was born in Bali in November 1972. She currently commutes between Jakarta and Melbourne, Australia. In 1991, she enrolled to architecture school in Parahyangan Catholic University (UNPAR) and graduated in 1998. During her architecture education in UNPAR, Tintin also went to Berklee College of Music, United States to study Film Scoring. She received her Bachelor of Music degree from the college with magna cum laude title. In 2007, she received Australian Postgraduate Awards to admit to postgraduate education in Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT), Australia. Tintin Wulia is presently a PhD candidate for Fine Arts at the same institute.

Several significant exhibitions and presentation of Tintin Wulia: Worm Festival 5: House, Plastique Kinetic Worms, Singapore (2003); 19^th Hamburg International Short Film Film Festival, Germany (2003); 16^th Singapore International Film Festival, Singapore (2003); 11^th New York Underground Film Festival, United States of America (2004); Indonesia Under Construction, Witte de With Center for Contemporary Art, Rotterdam, the Netherlands (2004); 9^th Pusan International Film Festival, South Korea (2004); Space and Shadows, Haus der Kurturen der Welt, Germany (2005); Yokohama Trienniale, Japan (2005); Istanbul Bienniale, Turkey (2005); Insomnia, Institute of Contemporary Arts, the United Kingdom (2005); 34^th International Film Festival Rotterdam, the Netherlands (2005); Hiding City, Seeking City, FACT at Liverpool Bienniale, the United Kingdom (2006); Everything’s OK, The White Cube, Norrlands Operan, Sweden (2006); Trial Balloons, Museo de Arte Contempiraneo de Castilla y Leon, Spain (2006); Jakarta Bienniale XII, Indonesia (2006); Geopolitics of the Animation, Cetro Andaluz de Arte Contemporaneo, Spain (2007); 12^th International Media Art Bienniale, Poland (2007); Mapping the City, Stedelijk Museum Bureau Amsterdam, the Netherlands (2007); OK.Video Sub/Version, 3^rd Jakarta International Video Festival, The National Gallery, Indonesia (2007); Plug In #21, Van Abemuseum, the Netherlands (2007); Invasion, Motive Gallery, the Netherlands (2008); Be(com)ing Dutch, Stedelijk Van Abbemuseum, the Netherlands (2008); Landing Soon #5, Cemeti Art House, Indonesia (2008); Diaspora, Edinburgh Festival, the United Kingdom (2009); Jakarta Bienniale XIII, Indonesia (2009); 38^th International Film Festival Rotterdam, the Netherlands (2009); Some Rooms, Osage Gallery, Hong Kong (2009); The Problem of Asia, Para/Site Art Space at Chalk Horse, Australia (2010); e-flux video rental, Fondazione Giuliani per l’arte contemporanea, Italia (2010); Lost Words: Asian Traffic, Gallery 4A, Australia (2010); Deconstruction of A Wall, Ark Gallerie, Indonesia (2010).