Razman's quiet reflections

Saiful Razman’s “Forms of Void” is more about quiet reflection than loud sloganeering.
That marks a change for Razman, who unleashed his first solo exhibition “Pelan-Pelan Dan Bilik Gerakan” (“Plans and Operations Room”) at the Annexe Gallery in Kuala Lumpur in June 2008.
Politics was thick in the air. Activist Hishamuddin Rais even wrote about the origins of the national anthem in the exhibition’s catalogue.
The mood of the day, especially after the game-changing 12th General Election that year, was one of discontent and division.
The button-badge sloganeering and politically charged sentiments, which engulfed Razman’s art, burned bright in those volatile years. The multidisiplinary artist-musician’s early work was aggressive and questioning, a portrait of a young man giving voice to the troubled times.
His second solo outing last March, “Ereksi General” (“General Erection”), continued his provocative slant.
Last week, at the launch of his third solo exhibition “Forms of Void” at Richard Koh Fine Art in Bangsar, Kuala Lumpur, Razman laughs when reminded of the heady days of 2008.
He also looks amused when asked if he times his significant public showings right after bruising election battles.
Any coincidence, you ask? The 13th General Election or politics in general, as Razman explained, played a lesser role in his latest show, which features 11 large-scale paintings.
“Ever since I started in 2003, my work has been associated with symbols, images, objects and issues. Indeed, I found many ways to put a viewpoint across. It was sort of a struggle to get personal opinions and social commentary amplified through my art. But right now, I don’t need all that,” says Razman, 32, with a hint of disillusionment in his voice. “I do not think that people who face any of my present artworks must be overwhelmed by commentary of any sort. There is a certain fatigue, I reckon, in forcing out issues.”
Often enough in conversation, Razman speaks broadly about redefining his work and shifting the focus to the “process of art”.
The bachelor of fine arts graduate from Universiti Teknologi Mara found renewed passion in the structured methods accompanied with the classic form. His rabble-rousing years, which he remembers fondly, gave him the momentum to break into the art community here. He was also an upstart pioneer of the Notthatbalai Festival organised by the Lost Generation Space, and the bassist for punk outfit Gasoline Grenade.
“Those were exciting times! There was a real surge of creativity and an urgent need for a change in attitude back then. Was it 10 years ago?” he asks quizzically.
“Forms of Void”, is as back-to-basics as it gets for the Teluk Intan, Perak-born artist, who candidly notes that unlike his previous shows, he didn’t “go to pharmacies and hardware stores” to gather props and unconventional work material.
Working with oil on canvas/jute at his studio in Petaling Jaya, Selangor, this project underlines a departure from Razman’s prickly and pointed past. There is a sense of confusion, inertia and aspiration wormed into the “Forms of Void” series, with the pieces coldly titled “Number 1” to “Number 11”. They seem withdrawn, laconic and detached.
The death of his grandmother early last year had a profound influence. He spent months grieving and reflecting on the loss in his own family landscape.
“It wasn’t an easy period. On some days, I just shut myself in the studio. Some days were dark, some days gave me strength. Through it all, I didn’t lose focus in the art.”
Razman, who has been married for three years and has a two-year-old son, reckons the cathartic artistic experience that came with “Forms of Void” made him a stronger person.
Will he go back to the incendiary phase of Pelan-Pelan Dan Bilik Gerakan?
“Maybe I will turn back. I don’t know. Nobody plans these things,” he says.