Susi Johnston Bali Blog

There are so many villa and apartment developments going on in Bali it makes my head spin. Here’s one. The multi-use development at Dreamland Beach (formerly much beloved of bohemians and surfers) in the Bukit Jimbaran area. Construction already begun. Locally-owned cafes already demolished, cement and steel rising fast. The masterplan was conceived by the same firm that consulted on the Kukio development for billionaires on the Big Island in Hawaii.

From a bali news website written in Indonesian, called Berita Bali, comes this little item about traffic and parking problems in Ubud, Bali’s most famous hill town. (The translation is mine.)

Parking Chaos in Ubud: Never a Day Without a Traffic Jam

Although it is one of Bali’s most popular destinations for foreign travellers, the Ubud area still has no viable system for handling parking and traffic. People park their vehicles in an utterly chaotic fashion. So never a day passes without a traffic jam in this area famous for the arts.

Although a parking lot has recently been created in from the Puri Lukisan museum, parking still causes big problems in this small town. Most drivers and motorcyclists park on the roads, causing congestion.

“We hope the government will actually get serious about handling the parking problem, so in the future it isn’t total mayhem like it is now,” said Agung Cahaya, a local observer. 

His complaint is not unfounded. Every single day the pleasures of Ubud are spoiled by traffic backups, particularly on the route leading from the Monkey Forest north toward the Ubud palace.

“Sure, the government has made some efforts to overcome the parking problem in Ubud, but they need to pay more serious attention so the parking chaos here can be sorted out properly,” he said.

My experience owning a gallery in Ubud on Monkey Forest Road, and watching the buses and cars backed up every afternoon spewing fumes and noise bears out the points that Berita Bali’s blog post makes. Exactly. It’s mayhem. Inexcusable.

The Sydney Morning Herald has published a sizeable feature story on the impacts of overdevelopment in Bali, with the scathing headline: “Island paradise sucked dry by tourists”. I consider this piece to be required reading for anyone who is interested in Bali in any way, shape or form. 

The article features only one photo (above), which is worth many thousands of words. The caption reads, “Concrete creep . . . a tourist and shopping complex being built into the cliff at Dreamland beach, which had been an unspoilt area because of its inaccessibility.” I call that a Dreamland Nightmare. To find out more, read the SMH article. Now.

O, ye tropical designers of Bali, we bid thee, pay close attention. It is not enough to be “minimalis” meaning just leaving off the ornament and being blank. When you go simple, the bones are exposed and the proportions, functions, and relation to nature must be right.

Where is the light, where is the shade, where does the sun come up and where does it set?  Where do we desire shelter, and where do we seek the open sky. What do we do in these spaces? 

Pay attention for example to the work of Vladimir Djorovic. The private retreat in Syria. And designer Elie Saab’s home in Lebanon (below).

What is really happening here? It is not “looks like,” it is.

Pay close attention. Not the form, but the content. Why is it? What does it mean? What does it do? Pay close attention.

Let’s start taking textiles seriously as visual art. Hundreds of different cultures all over the planet have produced woven works that are so far beyond fashion or decoration as to merit being regarded simply as works of abstract visual art. Kathleen Taylor is one of the handful of textile dealers who clearly thinks this way. Her diverse collection crosses every border, and brings many excellent examples of textile art to light.

Early 20th c. Chinese wave border sections.

18^th century Zoroastrian embroidered panel.

Late 19th c. kaitag from the Caucasus region.

Joe Loux, one of the few tribal art and textile dealers whose tastes coincide almost unerringly with my own, is showing this dazzling patola in the annual exhibition of the San Francisco Tribal group at the Presidio. The exhibition opens with a benefit bash on 10 October, with proceeds going to the De Young Museum’s oceanic, tribal and textile arts departments. It runs through the weekend.

Among the dealers exhibiting are my friends Tom Murray, Andres Moraga, Wenhua Liu, and Frank Whiggers. Moraga has a keen eye for textile art, and never fails to put things up on the wall that make eyes pop, jaws drop, and cause contemporary art collectors to go into paroxysms of glee.

Coming back to the textile above. Loux’s patola will be of particular interest to collectors and scholars of Indonesian textiles. The double-ikat silk patola textiles of Gujarat have been influential prototypes for prestige textiles woven in Indonesia over the past five hundred years or more. They were highly prized and easily transported trade goods exchanged to get access to the natural and human resources of the Indonesian archipelago. The patola influence is so pervasive in Indonesian textiles as to be almost ubiquitous. Whenever a distinctive patola turns up, it is avidly inspected by collectors and scholars to ascertain whether the pattern may have been a precursor or inspiration for specific patterns of Indonesian textiles.

Balinese geringsing double ikat textiles, and cepuk weft-ikat textiles both directly quote patola motifs and have done so for centuries. Some of the more unusual types of geringsing and cepuk show variations on the patola theme with origins that remain elusive. So every patola that we have a chance to study and appreciate, may represent a meaningful piece of the jigsaw puzzle which helps us to better understand geringsing, cepuk, and many other textile traditions in Indonesia.

Both geringsing and cepuk, by the way, are regarded by the Balinese as objects with “magical” powers, and are used in a variety of rituals, to this day.

I have been a textile art dealer for about fifteen years. The longer I look at textiles, the more I see and appreciate them as works of art, and the more I look for pieces that speak first and foremost as aesthetic objects, and not just as ethnographic curiousities. 

It is a standard interview technique to ask an actor who their favourite actor is, or an author who is their favourite author. The answer can be interesting, and instructive. 

If you were to ask this textile dealer who is her favourite textile dealer, I would have to answer, Gebhart Blazek, based in Vienna and Graz, who specialises in Berber textiles and carpets.

Blazek has a superb eye, superb sources, and a superb talent for exhibition design. 

He see his textiles as art. They are art. They are presented as such. I appreciate it enormously.

Here is a business named after a boxer pup, that does nothing but create patterns for industry. Any industry. Digitally. Customisably.  (Is that a word?). DOON. The website is a dream, there are even pithy quotes about design and appearance to ponder while the images load. DOON. Come. Sit. Stay.

We’ve discovered a Spanish design firm that makes elegantly understated structures and furniture for living outdoors. The simplicity of their aluminum pergolas, furniture and accessories makes such a beautiful backdrop for beautiful people.

Gandia Blasco’s outdoor collection is a blank canvas on which I long to compose perfect al fresco experiences. An afternoon nap, a big glamorous bash, and everything in between. And the website is a treasure, too.

Can we get some Blascos in Bali? They have a Singapore distributor. I want to sprawl on their sunbeds, and slink around their party pergolas. Can we make something here with a similar concept, perhaps, using local materials and techniques? Or take the concept a step or ten further? White prada cloth pergolas perhaps? Any ideas?

Fine sensitivity to colour is essential for designers, art dealers, and fashionistas. How good is your eye for colour? You can test it online here, fast and free, at xrite, the world’s leading colour measurement and management company.

I did well on the test, with only a few tiny mistakes, all of them in the blue range. Blue is my least favourite part of the colour spectrum. And I have blue eyes. I wonder if there is any significant correlation between favourite colours and colour sensitivity? Between eye colour and colour sensitivity? I know that men almost uniformly have less sensitive colour discrimination than women. I wonder what other genetic factors correlate with colour sensitivity? Do gay men have finer colour sense than straight ones, for example?