Citra Sasmita grew up in the traditional Balinese Hindu culture. That flows into how her first UK solo show, ‘Into Eternal Land’, is not just visually compelling but has plenty behind how it looks. The Indonesian artist invites us on a symbolic journey along the Barbican’s Curve Gallery through five phases exploring ancestral memory, ritual, and migration across the Indonesian archipelago as they take us towards enlightenment. Sasmita is also inspired by stories of heaven, earth, and hell – from the Hindu epic Mahabharata to Dante’s Inferno.
How is ‘Into Eternal Land’ organised?
The Prologue features hanging cow hides representing shelter and symbolising the memory of the space. The beads in the cowhide symbolise the precious things moved on the journey.
Act One features Kamasan paintings that stretch a total of 32 metres in length. These works are my interpretation, using the traditional colours of a Balinese style that originated in the village of Kamasan in the 16th century. Typically, these paintings are created horizontally and can extend for hundreds of metres, often around the ceilings of traditional Balinese architecture. Kamasan paintings are known for their detailed depictions of scenes from Hindu epics, such as the Ramayana and Mahabharata. In these works, male characters often take the spotlight, while female characters are frequently portrayed as mere companions, sexual objects, or unattractive witches. In my post-patriarchal vision, I reimagine female figures as protagonists and central figures in the narrative. I depict a journey from hell to heaven. However, the experience of hell in my work is not one of torment; instead, it represents an act of purification to prepare us for heaven. I draw inspiration from Dante, who describes suffering as an internal struggle until he reaches enlightenment. My artwork symbolizes that transformative internal journey.
Act Two consists of tall, hanging artworks crafted from hair and python skin. These symbolise the concept of a temple, a sacred space where individuals can come together and unite as a community with a shared purpose and mission. Creating a temple is vital for safeguarding our cultural heritage and preserving the natural world around us. It acts as a sanctuary where the old traditions and values can be honoured and passed down through generations. By doing so, we also protect the environment that sustains us, recognising the interconnectedness between humanity and nature.
Act Three features embroidered works that take the form of flags, symbolising our awareness of true identity and roots. These flags represent not only the strength and unity of the community but also pay homage to the god of the wind. As the flag waves, it becomes an embodiment of the wind itself, encouraging us to consider whether the divine will bless our rituals and intentions. The movement of the flag serves as a reminder to remain attuned to the spiritual forces at play in our lives and communities. Additionally, music plays a vital role in this act, resonating harmoniously with the wind.
The journey concludes in a meditative space, an Epilogue that stands for reaching enlightenment.
What are your sources?
The way that I make the compositions is traditional, but I bring my own cosmology into the context of the Curve Gallery. It comes from my collective memory from Bali, and also the knowledge injected from my travels and residencies. When I went to Malaysia, for example, I found the oral stories of indigenous people related to stories in Bali – there are connections and evidence of how traditions migrate. The paintings are in a style from the east of Bali, the embroidery comes from the west. The technique is nearly extinct – I asked many people, but it took a long time before I found one priestess who could do the embroidery. It was a collaboration – I did the thread, she did the colour. I didn’t instruct her – she just knew what to do, and I like to be surprised.
Fire recurs throughout the journey. What is its significance?
A lot of my iconography operates like a semiotic code, like pre-linguistic signs before we had written language. The fire refers to Balinese beliefs and rituals. We believe our spirituality stems from the mountain Agung, the highest in Bali. The magma inside it is the sacred fire. Symbolically fire is one of the element of purification in our ritual.
Geographically, Bali is located in the centre of the Pacific ‘Ring of Fire,’ which means the island is home to several volcanoes, including Mount Agung. As a result, Bali frequently experiences earthquakes. Interestingly, these seismic events are not only seen as natural occurrences but also as indicators of potential disasters or political issues.
There are also many snakes…
Snakes hold profound symbolism in our genealogy, representing various vital elements of nature and the body. Within this symbolic framework, the tail of the snake is identified with the mountain, a powerful representation of stability and strength. The body of the snake signifies the flow of the river, which embodies the essence of life and continuity, representing adaptability and movement through the landscape. Finally, the head of the snake symbolises the sea, highlighting the vastness and depth of our interconnectedness with the water element.
Furthermore, snakes represent the concept of Kundalini, an important idea derived from ancient Sanskrit teachings. Kundalini refers to the inner energy that lies dormant within everyone, often depicted as a coiled serpent at the base of the spine. This energy is considered a source of spiritual power and awakening. As the Kundalini energy rises along the spine, it connects to various energy centres, known as chakras, which play a crucial role in our physical and emotional well-being. One of the key areas influenced by this energy is the hypothalamus, a small but essential gland located in the brain. The hypothalamus regulates many vital functions in the body, including temperature control, hunger, thirst, and emotional responses. It also plays a crucial role in the endocrine system by controlling the release of hormones that influence various bodily organs. In essence, the flow of the Kundalini energy supports the body’s overall balance and harmony. When awakened, it promotes a sense of wholeness, enhancing our physical health, emotional stability, and spiritual awareness. The symbolism of snakes not only reflects our connection to the natural world, but also serves as a reminder of the profound internal energies that shape our lives and experiences.
And you use huge python skins as a ground for the images in the temple. Is that usual?
No, that comes from me! And they are hard to get. Pythons are farmed in Bali, bred specially to get big very fast. The Kalimantan people eat the meat, and possibly it will replace chicken. But the skins are all reserved for the big designer brands. And you need a permit to ship them London, and that is not easy to obtain. But I needed to bring the sacred context to the work.
The sacred context here is the temple structures. How do they operate?
When we perform rituals, we do so with the intention of praying for the protection of nature. We deeply believe that harming nature can lead to suffering for future generations. To honour this connection, we create shrines that incorporate elements such as python skins and hair. These materials symbolise our inherited DNA, specifically reflecting the matrilineal lineage that connects us across generations. In this way, the shrines serve as dedicated spaces that acknowledge our existence as human beings within the natural world.
Much of what you depict is striking just taken as surrealist images. But can we zoom in on some details to see what lies behind them? What is happening here, where water flows from women and fire forms flowers?
Biologically speaking, the human body is composed of approximately 80% water. This remarkable fact highlights how we are fundamentally connected to water; we could say that we are both the source and vessel of it. Water flows through us, fuelling our very existence and inspiring a multitude of experiences. In this context, I wish to explore the themes of inspiration, the spirit of womanhood, procreation, and the beauty of birth.
Surrounding the central figures in my work is the element of fire, which represents both passion and transformation. This fiery imagery intertwines with the motifs of plants and flowers, suggesting a duality that explores beauty in its most complex forms. However, there is a darker undertone to this beauty, as I draw inspiration from Charles Baudelaire’s ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’, where flowers symbolise the coexistence of beauty and suffering, pleasure and pain. By infusing these elements, I aim to illustrate the intricate and sometimes turbulent nature of life, love, and creation – inviting viewers to contemplate the powerful relationships between water, womanhood, and the opposing forces of light and darkness.
And how about here, where heads split or are held out decapitated?
In various sacred paintings, particularly within Sufism, there is a belief that evil resides in the head, suggesting that our true essence and understanding lie within the heart. This concept implies that the mind can often be a source of negativity or ego, which is why some traditional artworks depict the act of decapitation. However, this imagery is not meant to signify the physical act of harming an enemy; rather, it symbolizes the removal of the ego or the inner adversary that obstructs one’s spiritual growth and enlightenment.
This idea of splitting or decapitating the negative aspects of the self is akin to the transformative process experienced during childbirth. Just as a mother must undergo a profound metamorphosis for new life to emerge, so too must an individual shed their ego to reach a higher state of consciousness. The image of a lotus flower reaching full bloom represents this journey; just as a baby cannot be born until the lotus has fully opened, enlightenment and self-realization cannot be achieved until one has transcended the confines of the ego.
One of the flag embroideries shows a dancing thistle…
To achieve enlightenment, it is essential to heal the body. This is why I focus on illustrating herbal medicine derived from our natural surroundings. Diseases often resonate with the elements of nature, and in turn, nature provides the remedies we need for healing.
The seven flags in my work symbolise the journey to enlightenment through the seven chakras. Beginning at the base of the body, the chakras ascend through the solar plexus, the throat, and the third eye, culminating at the crown chakra at the top. The dancing figure represents the second – sacral – chakra, which is essential to our creative and emotional well-being.
Citra Sasmita: ‘Into Eternal Land’ runs to 20 April at The Curve Gallery at the Barbican Centre, London – admission free. Works are shown courtesy of the artist and Yeo Workshop, Singapore. Sasmita also appears in Kristin Hjellegjerde Gallery’s group show ‘All About Eve’ (in Bermondsey to 8 March)
Top Photo: Citra Sasmita photo: Gus Agung / Niskala Studio, Bali