Comment: When a public institution denies public access

Dangerous art?: The works of Ahmad Fuad: ‘Dreaming Of Being A Somebody Afraid Of Being A Nobody’.

“AT The End Of The Day Even Art Is Not Important” – artist Ahmad Fuad Osman’s exhibition title turned out to be doubly ironic.

The country’s primary public institution of visual arts, Balai Seni Visual Negara (“Balai”), where the exhibition is being held, has claimed the right to remove artwork from the exhibition for the good of the public.

In other words, art can be “too important” to be left to the public to decide, and ‘not important’ enough for any public explanation about the Balai board member whose initial complaint allegedly led to four artworks being removed. It must be noted that the exhibition had already been open to the public for several months, was even extended for another month and, finally, even though the artworks themselves have already been in the public realm during the last 30 years.

All this would be known to the country’s primary public institution of visual arts that is publicly-funded to carry out specific duties including “stimulating public interest” in visual arts, “promoting knowledge, appreciation and practice” of visual arts, and acting ‘“towards the advancement of visual arts development in Malaysia”. Not by any common understanding does the arbitrary removal of artwork fit within these duties. Which is, perhaps, why Balai sought to provide an explanation.

‘Syhhh...Dok Diam Diam, Jangan Bantah. Mulut Hang Boleh Guna Untuk Cakap Yaaaa Saja, Baghu Hang Boleh Join Depa...Senang La Jadi Kaya!’.

Unfortunately, Balai’s statement, issued almost a week after a public statement by the artist about the removals, left even more questions hanging. Its statement covered seven areas that overlap – namely, that the removal of artwork is not an impossibility in its exhibitions; it has the right to remove art that touches on the sensitivities of religion and politics, among others; an exhibition is a “continuous process and not a final product”; in the past, artists have adapted their exhibitions to achieve “more appropriate results” for Malaysian visitors; removing the artwork is not a comment on the credibility of the artist’s point of view and talent; the action was taken as a response to community responses/complaints; and as a government-funded institution, it must operate within government norms (“norma dan tertibnya”).

Nowhere in the statement does Balai specifically explain why the four artworks were removed – only that Balai is allowed to do so, and that it was due to complaints from the public. What these complaints were is still a mystery, one that Balai apparently has no intention of clarifying. If it has become acceptable that a single “police report” by an unnamed member of the public can shut down a show, now it seems any “claim” of a public complaint can do the same or similar.

This lack of transparency is deeply concerning. By concealing the real reasons behind the removals, Balai is shielding its top decision makers from public scrutiny, essentially removing any form of accountability to the public. It also deprives public debate about the artwork.

Even more disturbing is the statement made by Balai Director, Amerrudin Ahmad that as a

“government-funded institution gallery”, it must operate according to its norms and rules. Such is the outlook of a national arts institution in 2020.

It must be emphasised that “government-funded” is actually “publicly-funded’. It is not the Prime Minister, Cabinet or Parliament that pays for Balai (or any other public institution). It is Malaysian taxpayers. Public taxation is the bedrock of “government funding” in the country.

‘Insomnia’

Yet it appears, from Balai’s statement, that it grasps little of its responsibility to the public – only to the government, as if it were a department of the Home Affairs Ministry. Balai did not even express regret over the removals, either to the artist or to the public. These are not the actions of a responsible, supportive arts institution that understands it has various key stakeholders.

It bears repeating that there is no artwork without artists.

It is difficult to fully articulate the perversity of a national arts institution that does not consider itself answerable when casually censoring a respected, homegrown artist, midway through a solo exhibition that it has promoted, and which has already been on for three months. The members of public that saw the exhibition during those months – with all the artwork intact – are simply discounted.

On the other hand, it has been heartening to witness the show of solidarity for the artist in this debacle through numerous petitions and letters. Among them was a letter to Balai from the Deputy Tourism, Arts and Culture Minister, Muhammad Bakhtiar Wan Chik, calling for the reinstatement of the artworks and an immediate formal apology to the artist. It is refreshing and commendable to see a Deputy Minister take such an unapologetic stance on the issue (even if now retracted somewhat in his “personal capacity”).

However, it remains to be understood that, as a public institution, Balai owes its primary duty to the public. Being publicly-funded, public access is vital. The public doesn’t just vote in elections – it also votes on visual arts, literature, dance, music, and more.

As members of the public, we must debate whether the legacy of 1969 racial riots that preceded the raft of censorship laws has put far too strict limits on our freedoms of expression enshrined by Article 10 (1) (a) of the Constitution.

In 2020, is Malaysia still a ‘nanny state’ of boys and girls who must listen to Daddy? When a public institution, funded by the public, then denies public access, it is time to speak up as tax-payers and other adults.

Members of independent arts coalition ReformARTsi, Ann Lee is a playwright and university tutor while Arief Hamizan is an actor, writer and theatre director. The views expressed here are solely the writers’ own and do not necessarily reflect those of Sunday Star.