Empu Gampingan specifically introduces itself as a group of women artists who studied at the Faculty of Fine Arts and Design, Indonesian Institute of the Arts (FSRD-ISI) Yogyakarta, class of 1990–1997. The term ‘Empu’ in Indonesian refers to a person who is highly skilled in something and is also the root of the word ‘perempuan’ (woman). The Gampingan campus (the location of FSRD-ISI before it was moved to Bantul in 1995) formed an emotional bond amongst the twenty-seven members of Empu Gampingan, who were members of various year cohorts from 1990 to 1997. This historical context positions Empu Gampingan as a unique subject that empirically experienced the systematic domestication of women by the New Order regime. Domestic narratives often become the central theme in exhibitions held by Empu Gampingan. Interestingly, the group was only founded in 2018 – around two decades after their university years – by the artists, some of whom had experienced long periods of creative inactivity. This article explores how Empu Gampingan collectively engages with domestic issues during the group’s leisure time, while also grappling with the lingering effects of domestication imposed on women by the New Order regime – effects that still shape the Indonesian art field to this day.

Empu Gampingan was formed based on the solidarity of women artists in middle age trying to create while managing household responsibilities. According to one of the members, Laila Tifah, there was a shared sadness amongst this generation that many of their peers were no longer making art, despite a strong desire to do so – a condition she referred to as “despair”.¹ That shared feeling became the foundation of their solidarity, motivating them to invite old friends to rise and create again. Empu Gampingan was founded by eighteen artists from various visual art disciplines and has continued to grow, reaching twenty-seven members by 2025. In addition to large-scale activities such as group exhibitions, Empu Gampingan also occasionally organises public events such as on-the-spot sketching sessions and workshops. These artists explore various visual symbols, media and techniques, often drawing inspiration from their domestic realms.

Their first exhibition, titled Estetika Domestika [The Aesthetics of Domesticity] at Institut Français d’Indonésie, Yogyakarta, in 2018, aimed to bring their everyday domestic spaces and routines into the gallery. Their subsequent exhibitions continued within the framework of dissolving the boundaries between domestic and public space. One of the group’s most prominent efforts lies in enriching the spectrum of domestic narratives through deeply personal characteristics, showing that women are capable of transcending the limitations of the domestic space.

View of the Empu Gampingan exhibition Tempatan (2024). Photo shows works by Utin Rini, Nest for the Rest, 2024, wood, stone, iron, aluminum, 140 x 40 x 60 cm (left); and  Laila Tifah, 818, 2024, mixed media: ink on plastic and glass box, 68 x 165 x 20 cm(right), Yogyakarta © Courtesy Empu Gampingan

Empu Gampingan ceramic workshop with Endang Lestari, 2021 © Courtesy Empu Gampingan

This was evident, for instance, in the exhibition Wadon [Javanese for ‘woman’] at Fort Vredeburg Museum, Yogyakarta, in 2022, which was formed as an acronym of three slogans: ‘Woman Do Unlimited’, ‘Wani Do Nglangkah’ [dare to step], and ‘Wani Do Nrabas’ [dare to break through]. The Republika Domestika (2023) exhibition at Ruang Garasi, Jakarta, sought to create a new sovereignty for women to construct fluid identities that go beyond societal expectations of women’s roles in the domestic sphere. The Warana Warna [Colourful December, 2024] exhibition at Plaza Indonesia, Jakarta, celebrated the daily lives of women artists in midlife. The Tempatan [Vessel, 2024] exhibition at the National Gallery of Indonesia, Jakarta, adopted the symbol of the siwur (a dipper made from a coconut shell used to transfer water) as a metaphor for women’s distinctive movements between domestic and other spaces.

Empu Gampingan does not appear to aim to reject the domestication of women, nor to reconstruct the New Order’s narrative of domestic space in the form of a collective statement. In fact, Empu Gampingan does not associate the domestic narratives central to the group’s ideas with the New Order at all. One of its artists, Kana Fuddy Prakoso stated: “Women are designed to guard the nest. To go beyond that design is an extremely difficult task.”² This ‘design’ may seem taken for granted and hegemonic, but it is precisely what Empu Gampingan attempts to surpass. The group seeks to embrace the dual roles of women in the domestic sphere and the public art realm, while also showing women’s strength.

Although Empu Gampingan moves within a fairly clear framework, its members are reluctant to be labelled with a particular ideology, which they perceive as burdensome and overly political. This tendency mirrors the reluctance of many women artists during the New Order era to be identified as feminists. In her research, Alia Swastika (2019) notes that such labels were seen as potentially limiting women artists’ access to exhibitions and the art market. The New Order sought to tame pre-1965 women’s movements by systematically erasing women’s names from Indonesia’s cultural history, resulting in unequal opportunities for public presentation between male and female artists.³ In addition, the New Order’s project of domesticating women had a significant impact on the participation of women artists in the public presentation.

Liesti Yanti Purnomo, Message in the Bottle, 2024, mixed media, 120 x 200 cm, Yogyakarta © Courtesy Liesti Yanti Purnomo

Agni Tripratiwi, Love Life Laugh, 2024, mixed media, 150 x 275 cm, Malang © Courtesy Agni Tripratiwi

The creative inactivity experienced by some Empu members can be seen as a long-term effect of the domestication project carried out by the New Order. The regime institutionalised a gender ideology termed “state ibuism” by Julia Suryakusuma (2011), which positioned women as housewives, supporters of their husbands and caretakers of the family to ensure the success of national development.⁴ In the field of arts, the development of the art market alongside Indonesia’s economic growth also created an unequal space between male and female artists. The dominant discourse surrounding the figure of ‘the artist’ was constructed in such a way that it allowed male artists to take on the role of professionals who competed for exhibitions, gallery representation and market access. Meanwhile, female artists were often labelled ‘hobby artists’ or ‘spare-time artists’.⁵

After the fall of the New Order in 1998, the climate of freedom of expression encouraged the growth of alternative art spaces in various cities across Indonesia, including Yogyakarta. The number of collectives grew in the second decade of the reform era, supported by the expansion of funding opportunities from the government and philanthropic institutions. These funding sources became a form of patronage that often pushed collectives to adopt specific agendas, such as sustainability and other development-related themes. Empu Gampingan was one of the collectives that emerged during this period, partly in response to the availability of Danais support from the government of the Special Region of Yogyakarta.⁶ This effort was ultimately unsuccessful, mainly because Empu Gampingan was still considered ‘new’ compared to other collectives that had an already-established track record and a clearly defined agenda.

Unlike most collectives that emerged during the same wave, the artists of Empu Gampingan began organising when they were no longer ‘young’. There are specific reasons why the members of Empu Gampingan only came together after so many years. Most of the art graduates from ISI Yogyakarta of this cohort – including the majority of Empu Gampingan members – did not immediately pursue professional careers as artists after graduating, for various reasons. Some chose to start families and postponed their artistic ambitions. Liesti Yanti Purnomo, for instance, only returned to making art when she and her peers founded Empu Gampingan. For her, it was not simply a matter of carving out spare time amidst domestic responsibilities. She waited until her children were grown and independent, giving her more freedom to work in her studio.

Kana Fuddy Prakoso, Kali Gelis, 2024, cardboard and wood, 224 x 102 x 10 cm, South Jakarta. Note: The title Kali Gelis is taken from the name of a fast-flowing, rocky river in Kudus, which can literally be translated as “swift river” © Courtesy Kana Fuddy Prakoso

Retno Redwindsock, Indonesia Spice Up The World, 2024, installation of UV-coated glass bottles containing fermented health tonics, 180 x 200 cm, Yogyakarta © Courtesy Retno Redwindsock

Tini Jameen, Dapur Ngebul [The Kitchen Still Smokes], 2018, acrylic on canvas, 100 x 100 cm, Yogyakarta. Note: “Dapur Ngebul” is an expression that signifies life and continuity within a household, marked by the ability to provide food © Courtesy Tini Jameen

Some Empu Gampingan artists attempted to pursue their careers earlier and continued creating art amidst the demands of household responsibilities. One of them is Kana Fuddy Prakoso, an artist known for her frequent exploration of cardboard as a medium. In June 2025 she held her sixth solo exhibition. During an artist talk at the closing of the exhibition, the artist Ugo Untoro gave his critique that she had not fully explored the potential of cardboard as a medium and had merely used it as a substitute for canvas. She responded by saying that she would love to explore its various possibilities but simply didn’t have the time. In his curatorial text for Kana Fuddy Prakoso’s exhibition, Yaksa Agus wrote that her artistic journey is paved by an ethos that exceeds her physical limits, while she cares for her ailing husband, elderly parents and son.⁷ Her simple response invites us to reconsider how time becomes a distinctive concern for ‘spare-time women artists’. I found the same concern echoed in conversations with other Empu Gampingan artists.

It is not easy to re-enter the art world after years of inactivity. It takes time for someone to accumulate sufficient symbolic capital to compete as an artist and secure a position within the art market. As a group, Empu Gampingan is only able to gather between domestic duties, which limits the members’ ability to engage with current discourses and to pursue opportunities for grant funding. Domestication has had long-term effects on middle-aged women artists, positioning them as ‘spare-time artists’ – and thus Empu Gampingan as a spare-time collective’, if we may call it that. Yet the distinct character of Empu Gampingan’s collectivity enriches our understanding of women’s movements that emerge from a fundamental need: to support one another and to open possibilities amidst the dominance of professional and institutional models in the contemporary art world.