Turning Black To Cash

Three years ago, paintings by the Indonesian artist I Nyoman Masriadi sold for about $10,000 to $15,000. That was before "Sudah Biasa di Telanjangi" ("Used to Being Stripped")—which depicts a black-skinned, heavily built man wearing pink ladies' underwear around his ankles—went for $540,000 at Christie'sHong Kong auction house in May, making Masriadi, now 34, the most highly paid living Indonesian artist. Buyers aren't the only ones to have swooned; critics have praised Masriadi's work for its instantly recognizable imagery—strongly influenced by the artist's passion for cybergaming and comics—and its social commentary.

The pace of Masriadi's rise has been unusual but not unique in the region. The Indonesians Rudi Mantofani, Agus Suwage and Handiwirman Saputra have also done very well at recent auctions, though the prices paid for the work of Mantofani, the second highest-paid Indonesian, remain well behind Masriadi's. Artists in Thailand and Malaysia are also enjoying a boom. Their success reflects collectors' rising appetite for Southeast Asian work, which still tends to go for a fraction of the price of Chinese art. Now the boom is creating new challenges for museums in the region, which can no longer afford many of the suddenly popular artists.

That's especially so in Masriadi's case. Until recently, interest in Indonesian art was confined to old masters such as Hendra Gunawan (1918–1983) and Affandi (1907–1990). The ponytailed, Bali-born Masriadi, who emerged from Yogyakarta's artistic community, may seem an unlikely star: he's an art-school dropout who admits to being addicted to videogames. And he seems surprised by his popularity. "I don't understand what all the fuss was about," he says of his recent sales.

That may be, but a new exhibit, "Masriadi: Black Is My Last Weapon," running until Nov. 9 at the Singapore Art Museum, highlights the problems his success has caused for museums. His first solo show, the exhibit spans Masriadi's 10-year career and explores the evolution of his signature black-skinned figures, a motif now widely copied by other Indonesian painters. The show also highlights Masriadi's sarcastic humor, often expressed through small scribbles in black ink on strategic places on his canvases, and his focus on power relations inherent in everyday situations. His ambivalence toward the art world also shines through in works like "Dikacangin (Geli-Geli)," which depicts an artist and an art dealer arm-wrestling. "Karya Besar Kolektor" features collectors (in the form of rats wearing business suits) painting a black-skinned figure: a reference to the pressure Masriadi feels to reproduce his popular style. And "No More Game" shows the artist himself looking exhausted as he slumps in a chair in his study.

None of this world-weariness has diminished Masriadi's appeal—which is part of the problem for curators. Of the 32 large paintings on display in the show, all had to be borrowed from private collectors; the museum couldn't afford to buy. That can make things awkward. "The art-market explosion has had a real impact on the politics of exhibition-making," says Wang Zineng, who helped organize the show.

Museum administrators are being forced to get creative. To mount an exhibit, they must figure out who owns the works they want to include, which can involve a bit of detective work since much art is bought anonymously. But relying so heavily on private owners can threaten a museum's independence and risk conflicts of interest, since exhibitions have a way of raising the price for works still on the market. Earlier this year, for example, the high prices earned by the auctioning of the Estella Collection of contemporary Chinese art in Hong Kong were partially credited to a show the year before at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art in Denmark. Anders Kold, curator at the Louisiana, says his museum had no awareness of the subsequent sale. "It's one thing to be aware of the nature of the system and another to work actively for it … As a point of principle, museums should leave the business to galleries, auction houses and other players," he says. But with museums facing budget constraints and the price of local artists rising, borrowing is likely to continue. And that's likely to provide more materials for the cynical eye of Masriadi.

© 2008