Kalimasuda (oil on canvas). (Courtesy of Hidajat)

The gray bearded man in khaki shorts sits quietly in the middle of the Cipta II Gallery at Taman Ismail Marzuki in Central Jakarta, watching as people of all ages wander the space, pausing now and then to contemplate one of many large, colorful canvases filled variously with figures of street dancers and mystic wayang puppets.

The images are the stuff of his childhood in the mountains of West Java and his youth in Bandung and the streets of Jakarta.  

Hidajat Ldp, who was born 70 years ago on May 3, 1943, has been painting since 1958, when he was still a junior high school student. He has never forgotten how legendary Indonesian master painter Hendra Gunawan introduced him to the world of brush, paint and canvas at his studio in Bandung, West Java '
a life altering encounter.

Hidajat's current exhibition titled 'El Silencio', which ran through May 15, is a contemplative soliloquy about how the incessant hubbub and shifting priorities of contemporary times make it impossible for people to take a moment to reflect on values other than the prices of consumer goods and how to rake in the cash to buy them.

'The tumult of it all is sweeping this nation '¦ the people have no chance to reflect on what is happening because they are too busy competing for whatever it is they think they want or need in the moment. Even should someone, like me, long for silence the price would be exorbitant,' Hidajat said in comments for the exhibition catalogue.

He is quick to explain that he doesn't understand how the people of Indonesia and their leaders have become so sidetracked by 'filling their bellies' that they seem to have forgotten the ethical messages of social solidarity and cooperation rooted so deeply in the ancient cultures of the archipelago. 'There is wisdom in the old arts,' he says.

Hidajat's canvases are filled with images of traditional dance and puppet performances; a reminder to those who view his works that there may be some meaning there of value to their lives. He laments that he has observed a slow but steady trend over the past years for art exhibitions to be more about the bottom line and what kind of artistic content will sell than about the presentation of visual symbols rich in provocative questions about the meaning of life, the hard-won wisdom of the past, and what he fears may be the stillborn potential of the future.

'This is the tragedy unfolding with us in it and nobody seems to notice or to care,' he says.

Ronggeng Biru: Ronggeng Biru (oil on canvas). (Courtesy of Hidajat)
For Hidajat, painting is about his love ' passionate and unconditional ' for his people, his country and his culture. In particular, he cites traditional performance artists like ronggeng dancers and dalang puppet masters as representative of an older set of values in which the good of the community outweighs the momentary wants or expectations of the individual.

Hidajat deeply admires the poverty stricken grassroots ronggeng troupes that eke out a meager living performing deep into the night in fields on the outskirts of villages and small towns or under the bridges in sprawling urban centers like Jakarta.

'The philosophy and way of life of the ronggeng is very humanitarian. Yet it is also tragic. It has been said that they will sell themselves. That may well be true enough, given the harsh realities they face, but whatever little they make, they share with others who need their help,' Hidajat once said.

He also speaks with respect of his past mentors and colleagues, the painters Hendra Gunawan, Soedjojono, Affandi and Nashar, whom he thinks have set examples of how artists and others should live.

'We were very close to each other in the 1960s and 1970s and we frequently discussed the matter of materialism. So different from now when people are so hedonistic,' he once said of contemporary society.   

He continues to believe, as he commented at a previous exhibition a few years back: 'We must create our own lives, good lives, and not get caught up in materialism. No artist should become a slave to material things. Artists should be the brave cutting edge of art and life.'

Hidajat, who was given the title 'defender of the downtrodden' by the Indonesian press in 1994, continues to live on the cutting edge artistically, exhibiting small recent works done in acrylic on paper along with his characteristic massive, intensely hued oil paintings on canvas.

Hidajat's mastery of composition, with solidly static yet dynamically kinetic figures often placed front and center on his canvases, and his trademark layering of color in quickly sharp slashes of a palette knife, remain strong and vibrant as he continues unabated his emotionally stirring visual soliloquy to a public he hopes will take his message of social solidarity to heart.

He explains that, 'Almost all of my paintings carry the longing of an old man for a more mannered, ethical, and creative existence; a way of life that is slowly declining into brutality, anarchy and imbecility.'