Last week, this reporter had the opportunity to visit a 'real and proper' art gallery for an opening of an exhibition. Dan Brown's depiction of The Louvre in his best-selling The Da Vinci Code gave me pretty high expectations - from the chime of champagne glasses clinking, to the Gucci handbags, the imported cars parked on the curb to the incomprehensible pieces of canvases hanging off the walls - it was all there. It was surreal.

The very next day, I dropped in at another art exhibition. Talk about coming down with a crash. This time, there were no waiters serving guests sushi or a detailed price list of paintings. Some guests were in slippers and shorts. I didn't even have to RSVP to be there. This particular exhibition made my experience the night before feel like the Twilight Zone.

Why you should have gone to this

Notthatbalai is a five-day festival in Kuala Lumpur that featured a cacophony of art, short films, theatre and independent music.

There were daily workshops on a variety of creative projects and screenings of independent short films. By dusk, the mini-gallery is turned into mini-concert hall, as people packed the floors to cheer on local independent musicians.

The centrepiece of this event had to be the visual arts exhibition. I consider myself very inept when it comes to the arts, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the wonderful and diverse creations exhibited. There were abstract art, street art, photo-montage, sculptures, murals, cheeky political posters and many more artworks of which I am incapable of describing.

I managed to catch up with two members of Notthatbalai's organising committee, who graciously spent time elaborating on the event, their passion, its symbolism, and the local art scene.

The main concept of Notthatbalai, explained festival curator Yeoh Lian Heng, was the coming together of three art forms, as well as the workshops, all under one platform.

"From discussions held with visitors, many said that they had not attended similar events," he said.

Discussions between artist and audiences, which was rarely the case in mainstream galleries, was also an important part of the festival.

"As artists, if we want to know where our creations stand, we can obtain feedback from audiences immediately. If our audience merely sings praises about our work, we cannot move on to the next level,"said Yeoh.

A space for the lost

The festival venue was a quaint rented bungalow in Taman Seputeh, dubbed the Lost Generation Space, and is also the home for ten fine arts students and artist, who use the large interiors to work on their creations.

"We couldn't find a suitable venue for the festival, so we decided hold the festival there," explained Yeoh.

According to Yeoh, Lost Generation Space, which was large enough for the inhabitants to utilise as a studio, symbolised space for artist and art lovers alike to reconnect with their primal self, especially in this day of crass commercialism.

"For an artist, it's quite usual to 'feel lost'. The term Lost Generation Space is a place for artists to find themselves when they are lost. Perhaps audiences too would find something when they visit this space. That is our hope," said Yeoh.

Red-tape blemishing the arts

So what's the deal with the name of the festival?

"The term 'Balai' in the art circle refers to Balai Seni Negara," explained Yeoh. "I feel that it is their responsibility develop local talent, and they have not fulfilled this responsibility, that's why we chose the name Notthatbalai," said Yeoh who studied Fine Arts and designs murals for a living. He also felt that there was insufficient support from the Arts and Culture Ministry for local artists.

Yeoh explained that government failed to see the arts as a viable commodity for the country's tourism industry and that little effort had been made to push local talents abroad, as well as bringing in quality foreign talents and exhibitions.

"Many locals have to go overseas to view artwork. If Taiwan can have an exhibition of Picasso's art, why can't our government do the same?" lamented Yeoh.

Despite being unable to attain government support for such events, Yeoh and his cohorts soldiered on. While they managed to obtain some sponsorship, they still ended having to fork out their own money to finance the event.

When asked about their family's reaction towards Notthatbalai, both Yeoh and Lam Tsu Jin, a committee member, agreed that it was initially hard to convince them about walking the path of fine arts.

"Society looks at involvement with fine arts as something that cannot be taken seriously, as opposed to having a nine to five job," said Lam.

Yeoh for example, was secretly studying fine arts while his parents were under the impression he was studying interior design.

"Eventually, their perception changed a bit and they continued to fund my studies. Now, they see that I can make a decent living," said a beaming Yeoh.

It is a constant struggle for these young artists to be heard and seen. Notthatbalai is not only a celebration of artistic talents, but also a celebration of the determination and grit of these dedicated people amidst uncertainty.

When asked about what's in store for next year's festival, Yeoh's said that his immediate worry was centered on keeping up with the rental of their house.

"It is an important space for us. Given the circumstances, we can't plan that far ahead," he quipped.

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The visual art exhibition runs until September 10, 2005. Visits to Lost Generation Space are by appointment only.

Photo credits: Notthatbalai