BEHIND THE SCREENS
Tromarama
“MY MOM AND HER Whatsapp habit,” answers Herbert Hans Maruli, one third of art collective Tromarama, when asked about the inspiration behind one of their latest works, Aletheia. The video art, first presented in Indonesia at ArtJog10, consists of a screen showing four animated plants and a series of hanging lamps, displayed inside a dark room. The plants simultaneously follow the dimming and lighting of the lamps.
“The video is a simulation of phototropism – a natural phenomenon whereby plants follow the direction of the sun,” explains Febie Babyrose. “The simulation represents the way people respond to news they receive on social media. Many people take any info as truth without giving it a thought.”
Tromarama, an art trio comprised of Herbert, Febie and Ruddy Hatumena, is best known for its critiques of social phenomena through new media art. Their works are displayed in the forms of stop motion animation, video art, installation or lenticular prints. Herbert says: “We grew up with TV, watching Sesame Street and then MTV. So it’s only natural for us to use the media closest to us when we create art. At this point, we question the media through our works.”
Through their works, Tromarama invite people to get into “the space between”, a new layer in between realities and on-screen events created by technology. Intercourse (2015) involves two screens – one of an object, one of an electric fan in motion. “Fun fact: when the work was installed, we noticed that none of the audience walked between the first and second screen,” says Herbert. “They chose to walk behind the screen instead, as if the fan was real. It could be that the audience respected the gallery, so they didn’t want to walk in between an artwork, or it could be that they didn’t want to ruin the visual illusion in their heads. Either way, it’s always interesting to watch the way people react to art.”
As artists, Tromarama want to let the audience perceive their artworks in the way that resonates best with them. “If an audience member wants to talk about an artwork’s aesthetic with us, we’re open for that. If they want to talk about the discourse behind a work, we’ll also be happy to discuss. We want to level with them, because we never know which part of someone’s mind is tickled when he sees an artwork,” Herbert says.
Such an open-mindedness in looking at art is a big part of Tromarama’s charm. Ten years after its start, the collective has held solo exhibitions at Liverpool Biennial Fringe, Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam and Art Basel Hong Kong. It has even taken over Stedelijk Museum’s Instagram account, presenting art through three 15-second videos in conjunction with its 2015 exhibition.
“Nowadays, art is becoming a part of daily life in Indonesia, and it’s partly thanks to social media. Artworks have become interesting backdrops for selfies,” Herbert says. “It shows that people start to build a taste in art, choosing which they like and don’t. The next step is when the public gets into the idea behind an artwork, the agenda set by the artist when making art.”
Interestingly, Febie and Herbert’s one-yearold daughter does not like screens, or gadgets, very much. She responds better to people and physical touch, rather than visuals on screens. “We’re actually very happy about it,” Herbert says. “We have also heard about Waldorf (School of the Peninsula), where children of techpreneurs at Silicon Valley send their children. There, they don’t expose children to screen at all.” Is this a sign that we are heading for technology fatigue, after countless research of artificial intelligence and acute addiction to social media? What kind of art would Tromarama produce then? It will be interesting to find out.