Whitestone Gallery Taipei is currently presenting "Alternate Reality: Southeast Asian Exhibition" a group show that explores diverse perceptions of reality through the works of artists from Southeast Asia.

Maharani Mancanagara unravels the silence surrounding past political violence and its lingering aftermath, bringing to light the silent voices of those affected. In this interview, we delve deeply into the techniques and philosophies behind her work, as well as the intersection where her personal family history meets the broader history of her country.

— Could you introduce your artistic techniques and process, and share why you prefer using charcoal on wood as your main medium?

Maharani: Charcoal, being both fragile and forceful, allows for gestures that can be easily smudged or stubbornly ingrained. It mimics the instability of memory, how it fades, resurfaces, and gets rewritten. The wood I use is mostly recycled, often salvaged from old furniture, crates, or discarded construction. I intentionally choose these worn surfaces because they already carry their own histories, imperfections, and invisible labor. They are not neutral backgrounds but witnesses themselves.

Working with recycled wood becomes an act of care, giving new context to forgotten materials, much like the stories I try to bring forward. The drawing process with charcoal is both meditative and archaeological. I scratch, rub, layer, and often leave traces unfinished, not as a sign of incompletion, but to suggest the limits of representation when dealing with historical trauma.

I choose this medium because it allows me to draw closer to stories that are often neglected: those that lie between the official and the intimate, between what is said and what is endured. The material process becomes a quiet form of testimony."

Whitestone Gallery Taipei | Maharani Mancanagara “Unjustified Justify: amicus curiae #4” 2024, 300.0 x 550.0 x 3.0cm, Charcoal on wood

— Could you share the concept behind Unjustified Justify: amicus curiae #4 and explain the significance of each depicted item?

Maharani: Unjustified Justify: amicus curiae #4 reflects on the lingering trauma of the 1965–66 mass violence and political imprisonment in Indonesia — a history that remains unresolved for survivors and their families. Over fifty years of silence and denial is not a short span for those who have endured loss, exile, and state-sanctioned dehumanization.

The work responds to the findings of the International People's Tribunal 1965 held in Den Haag (2015), where the voices of victims, witnesses, and former perpetrators were brought forward to expose the scope of the crimes. Though the tribunal issued clear recommendations for justice and recognition, years have passed without significant action. This work asks: was all of that effort simply a suspension of hope?

Taking its name from the legal term amicus curiae—“friend of the court”—I’m positioning myself not as judge or jury, but as a witness. A friend to the court of memory. A carrier of overlooked testimony. The work brings forward the things—objects often seen as ordinary—that political prisoners were allowed to carry, create, or use while exiled in forced labor camps, especially on Pulau Buru.

These are not just tools of survival. They are evidence. Memory. Protest. Humanity. By presenting these items, Unjustified Justify: amicus curiae #4 does not re-stage suffering, but renders visible the material residues of a system that tried to erase them. Each object stands as a silent witness, like an amicus curiae itself—offering evidence not in legal courts, but in the court of public memory. The work becomes a quiet indictment. A gentle, insistent call to remember what was silenced, and to reckon with what still remains unresolved.

Maharani Mancanagara “Karatau Tumbuah #1” 2022, 57.0 × 72.0 × 12.0cm, Charcoal on wood

— The phrase “Karatau Tumbuah” in Minangkabau translates to “the seed of wandering” or “the beginning of migration.” Was the form of this work intentionally designed to resemble a paper airplane?

Maharani: The form of Karatau Tumbuah is intentionally designed to resemble a paper airplane — a simple, familiar object that carries rich symbolic meaning. It represents movement, migration, and the transmission of memory — tying closely to the spirit of Karatau Tumbuah, a Minangkabau phrase that translates to “the seed of wandering” or “the beginning of migration.”

This work draws upon the idea that often, when one has wandered far in life, it becomes easy to forget where they first stood. The drive to seek knowledge, to grow, and to find something meaningful can sometimes blur the clarity of our original intentions. Folding back through the notes and creases of our lived experiences can help reawaken our sense of purpose and direction. Karatau Tumbuah becomes a metaphorical object — something folded, in motion, caught between destinations — a reminder of the need to reflect, archive, and revisit what shaped us.

The inspiration for this piece is rooted in my earlier involvement with the exhibition Ja'u Timu (2012), where I first encountered the figure of Abdul Djalil Pirous beyond the pages of art books. In that exhibition, Ja'u Timu was interpreted as a spirit of wandering — a search for knowledge, meaning, and selfhood. It echoes a well-known Minangkabau proverb:

“Karatau tumbuah di hulu, babuah babungo alun, marantau bujang dahulu, di rumah baguno alun” (If you are not yet of use in your hometown, go wander first.)

Both the proverb and the spirit of Ja’u Timu have personally encouraged me — and perhaps many others — to continuously strive for growth, in the hope of one day being of meaningful contribution to others.

Whitestone Gallery Taipei

— How do you connect your grandfather’s personal history with broader narratives of political turmoil in Indonesia through your works?

Maharani: My grandfather’s personal history is a quiet thread that runs through many of my works — not just as a familial memory, but as a lens through which I engage with broader narratives of political violence, silence, and survival in Indonesia. He was detained without trial during the post-1965 mass arrests and eventually exiled to Nusakambangan and later Pulau Buru. For many years, this history was left unspoken within the family — a silence that mirrored the national culture of denial and repression surrounding the events of 1965–66.

Through my practice, I try to reassemble these fragments of memory — not to create a biography of him, but to explore the intergenerational effects of political trauma. His story is personal, but it echoes the experiences of thousands whose lives were marked by state violence, displacement, and systematic erasure.

In works such as Unjustified Justify: amicus curiae series, I treat objects, language, and everyday gestures as carriers of memory — the kind that resists being archived in official narratives. I also draw connections between personal memory and collective forgetting, between silence in the family and silencing by the state.

By grounding the work in my grandfather’s story, I aim to humanize the historical — to ask what it means to inherit a silence, and how art can become a form of quiet testimony, or even resistance."

Maharani Mancanagara transforms recycled wood and charcoal into powerful testimonies that bridge personal trauma and Indonesia's political history, giving voice to silenced narratives through the fragility and permanence of her chosen materials. Chen Sai Hua Kuan offers an art experience woven from sound and elements of everyday life, Imhathai Suwatthanasilp explores gender and existentialism through human hair, Le Quy Tong creates works themed around collective memory from social media images and Nurrachmat Widyasena demonstrates an artistic approach in Indonesia's space development. Each artist presents their own "alternate reality" through unique approaches.

Alternate Reality: Southeast Asian Exhibition