GHOSTS OF A COMMON PAST

N a dimly lit space at the Kochi Muziris Biennale, music begins to play without anyone stepping forward to sing.

- SAFAHATH CN

There are no visible performers, no musicians taking a bow. Instead, a crowd of hollow, human-sized figures dressed in worn shirts, trousers, and scuffed shoes slowly comes alive with robotic motions. Strings vibrate, melodies rise and fall, and a melancholic rhythm fills the room.

This is Ghost Ballad, an installation by Indonesian artist Jempet Kuswidananto, where a kinetic, bodiless crowd occupies the space, each figure holding a small, portable automated string instrument. The music is triggered mechanically, allowing sound to move through the room without anchoring itself to a visible performer.

Layered recordings of Fado, Keroncong, and related musical forms drift in and out, interwoven with the voices of Goan singer Nadia Rebelo and Indonesian vocalist Giwang Topo.

The installation does not guide visitors toward a single point or moment. There is no centre to gather around and no clear beginning or end to the music. As people move through the space, the sound shifts sometimes fading, sometimes overlapping, offering fragments rather than a complete composition. Listening happens on the move, shaped by where one pauses, how long one lingers, and what slips past unheard.

For the artist, the absence of bodies is not a symbolic abstraction but a historical proposition. “The hollow bodies reflect the historical absence of the people who carried these songs,” Jempet explains. “Much of this music was created and sustained by ordinary individuals whose names were never recorded. By removing visible bodies, the work points to that erasure.”

Automation allows the music to persist without performers, mirroring how these songs outlive individual lives and continue to circulate as shared memory.