Semsar Siahaan

(b. 1952, Medan, Indonesia – d. 2005, Indonesia)  

Semsar Siahaan was a pivotal figure in Indonesia’s progressive art movement. A fervent humanitarian and political activist, his work was deeply intertwined with the socio-political upheavals of his time. Siahaan’s incisive social commentary, conveyed through his paintings, drawings, and installations, played an integral role in the anti-dictatorship and pro-democracy movements of the 1990s. His art directly confronted human rights abuses, often incorporating banners bearing demands for justice or text that heightened the irony and urgency of his imagery.

In 1978, Siahaan joined Group ’78, a student-led movement opposing the re-election of then-President Suharto. His defiance of state control over artistic and cultural expression culminated in a notorious protest in 1981, during which he burned a sculpture by one of his teachers at the Institut Teknologi Bandung (The Bandung Institute of Technology) in Bandung, Indonesia, denouncing the military government’s influence over the arts. This act led to his expulsion, yet he continued to fight for artistic freedom, leading a student strike at the institute. Consequently, he was barred from holding a solo exhibition there in 1983.

Relocating to the Netherlands, Siahaan became active among Indonesian political dissidents, publishing the bulletin For the Sake of Democracy and Human Rights in Indonesia. In 1994, he received critical acclaim for his installation Redigging the Mass Grave, which he described as a symbol of Indonesia’s long history of human rights violations. Despite initially being selected for the São Paulo Biennale, Suharto’s government withdrew his participation due to the political nature of his work.

Though invited to exhibit in Germany and offered an artist residency in Kazakhstan, Siahaan declined, remaining in Indonesia amid escalating political unrest. In 1998, he played a key role in organising the Indonesian Pro-Democracy Action, a coalition of NGOs that staged a massive three-day peace demonstration. His activism, however, made him a target of state violence. During the peaceful protest in Jakarta, he was shot and brutally beaten by soldiers. While hospitalised with a broken leg, he was subjected to severe torture, leaving him permanently disabled. This traumatic experience forced him into exile, leading to relocations across the Netherlands, Canada, and Singapore.

In 1999, Siahaan arrived in Canada as a visiting artist and speaker at the University of Victoria. His work expanded beyond Indonesian politics, critiquing global capitalism with sharp satire, as seen in The Global Trader (2001). His rapid success in Canada, marked by several significant exhibitions, attested to his artistic calibre and the universality of his political concerns.

A master of artistic appropriation, Siahaan reinterpreted canonical works to expose Indonesia’s subjugation to Western economic and cultural dominance. In Olympia, Identity with Mother and Child (1988), he reimagined Manet’s iconic Olympia to critique the country’s subservience to Western capitalism while simultaneously challenging the hegemony of Western art. A postcolonial artist with a keen postmodern awareness, he transcended artistic and geographical boundaries with a bold, unrelenting vision.

Siahaan’s activism was not solely political—it was deeply personal. The loss of his only son profoundly shaped his work, forging his empathy for parents who suffered the preventable deaths of their children due to poverty, disease, and systemic neglect.

Surprisingly, upon his return to Indonesia in 2003, he was honoured with a solo exhibition at the National Gallery. For over a decade, his large-scale, often monumental canvases had gained recognition in Indonesia, Japan, and Australia, exposing the greed and hypocrisy of political and business elites. His art bore witness to events that could not be openly discussed, solidifying his role as one of Indonesia’s most significant voices of dissent.

Despite the profound impact of his work and activism, Siahaan remained an outsider—eschewing both political and artistic establishments. His legacy, though widely acknowledged, has yet to be fully recognised within the pantheon of great Indonesian artists.