behind the curtains
artsphere gallery
jakarta, 2024
Sicovecas presents a series of paintings and installations that reflect on this reflection, by centering on a common household feature, the window. For Sicovecas, the window represents a portal – it is a place of exchange, of light and shadow, inner and outer worlds – a border and an opening. In this exhibition we see pieces reflecting a culmination of 18 years of contemplating art creation and creating home through art.
Some works displayed are poignant in their sense of solitude, such as “golden sun bathed in a sleepless dawn” and “shrub symphony”, which through Sic’s use of light and shade draw the audience into his studio as he sits looking out into the movement of the world while he is in the calm, canvas in front of him, at different times of the day. In others we experience the rush of the city and the shock that comes with returning to the street and moving between spaces, such as in “maceeeet” and “inbetween (rest & roar)”.
Perhaps bridging his graffiti most clearly with his studio work are the two paintings “marijan’s neighbor” and “rock & rubble” and installation “aren’t we all the same” that reflect on the bones of houses, abandoned and left to nature, which Sicovecas playfully responds to as an onlooker peering through the window into the worlds of those who came before and what is left behind.
The title Behind the curtains itself suggests control. If creating art in the studio is the private act of creating art for the public, Sicovecas is attempting to draw back the curtain to show you the whole process, so come with your iced tea and your neighbours, sit down and become part of it all.
home2home
readyspace gallery
yogyakarta, 2025
Creating art in public space is full of surprises. There’s uncertainty, and there’s the constant flow of life around the spot you choose to paint. For me, a peaceful day ends with a collection of mural photos taken from different angles — a kind of fulfilment that words often fail to capture. But there are also days when I feel completely unwelcome. My painting is painted over by another street artist. Or the wall is torn down, swallowed by the hunger of development. Still, something in me keeps wanting to return. Maybe that’s where the beauty lies.
Living on the rural edge of a city known as the “centre of art and culture” is a quiet privilege. Every house feels like a possible canvas, waiting for a story. I knock on doors as a stranger offering unsolicited artwork — and yet, they welcome me like an old friend. A plate of home-cooked food, a jar of rice crackers, an endless flow of iced tea, and a thank-you — not just for the mural, but for stirring something inside them.
Some wonder why I spend so much paint, time, and energy for nothing. But this was never just about murals — it’s about conversations. About human connection. A quiet exchange that runs on sincerity.
This project, at its core, is a celebration of human relationships grounded in care — an attempt to archive the lives and stories of six homeowners whose walls became part of this journey. What I was looking for slowly evolved over time. The more I painted, the more I learned about their lives — the fragile parts, usually hidden behind routine. It began to feel like I was offering nourishment for the soul, not just a mural. In between painting sessions, they would invite me to sit with them. I was no longer just an artist, but a listener.
One afternoon, in the living room of one of the homes, I listened to a man share his story — a former Kraton palace servant. His back now hunched, but from the way he spoke and the vintage photos hanging on the wall, it was clear he was once a strong warrior. These days, he spends his time collecting firewood and making chicken pellets by hand. Yet a part of his spirit still lives in the past.
And that’s when I realized: not everything needs fixing. Some things simply need to be heard.
There are many ways to show love and care. Maybe this is mine. From graffiti to humanity — I believe there’s always a bridge between the two.