Agony and Stones from the East

Agony, the deep pain of trauma, is passed down through history as Engel Seran recalls the deaths in the chapters of the Tetun people’s history. He contemplates death—death in mass, present in the history of wars, battles, and mutual killings. And the forced death that took his grandfather during the communist genocide of 1965. Upon the Hada stone, bloodied stones that have recorded the reddest of histories, they become a memento mori, a monument of memory to death and prayers.

SYNOPSIS

Engel Seran, a young man of Tetun blood, embarks on a journey to trace three events and moments from the past that have long haunted his thoughts. The first chapter begins with the tale of war and separation that scattered the Tetun people from the kingdom of Fehalaran. A history of battles, conquests, and migrations, unfolding before Indonesia became a nation.

The second chapter speaks of the 1999 referendum, a moment that split the Tetun people between two nations: Indonesia and Timor Leste. Once they prayed together in a single ceremony atop Foho Matebian, but now they are divided, sending their prayers through the wind.

The third chapter emerges from Engel’s reckoning with the truth about his grandfather’s disappearance after the eruption of the Indonesian Communist Party genocide in 1965. His grave and body were never found. Yet, 20 years later, his mother whispered that his grandfather rests in an unmarked, nameless land on the edge of Atambua.

Engel undertakes this journey alongside Fo Ran, a presence he believes is part of himself—a guide passed down by his ancestors to help him seek answers to the questions that have long tormented him. The journey spans from Belu to Timor Leste, with Engel carrying a cabinet on his back. Inside, it holds artifacts of memory from the past. This performative journey is an attempt to confront the ghosts of fear and to gaze upon and understand the wounds of a history long gone.

We believe in how art works. With full awareness, we distinguish how artworks as a politics and political art. Both have the same intent and purpose, we choose and pursue the politics of art as our vehicle to achieve the goals of this project. The politics of art is how art that has the sensitivity of affection and metaphor is able to convey messages by conveying feelings––two phrases that we will embrace are consciousness resistance and powerful aesthetics as our path.

On a personal level, our first meeting–Suvi and Engel–was when we joined the Rimpang Nusantara residency artist exchange network. One night, we talked about the work we had made. There was one question Engel asked me that I still remember, which was how to contextualise bitter historical ideas in the form of art?

I answered, with honesty and searching for pure feelings, even if it hurts. Our conversation came to the historical context of where we come from. I am an artist from Madura who also has a dark history of the 1999 ethnic conflict in West Kalimantan and a personal history of loss. Engel told me about his grandfather’s disappearance in 1965 and the 1999 Referendum. In this case, we were linked to our personal histories of loss through the context of our ethnic and personal histories.

One thing we remembered was that our grandfather had a vow to his children and grandchildren. My grandfather vowed that none of his children or grandchildren would become soldiers or policemen for seven generations. Meanwhile, Engel’s grandfather vowed to his children and grandchildren not to become an elite government official. This similarity made us believe and agree to help each other and collaborate, especially in the process of creating artworks.

In the end, can an artwork or film answer the problem? The answer is, we will deliver it to its goal, hoping it will reach or never even make it. However, on the way we continue to learn and find the good we strive for.