Here’s what you can do to help Myanmar’s troubled artists

On February 1, Myanmar experienced what can only be defined as a military coup. The army-related ruling classes have held power for years, despite the appearance of a democratically elected government. Once again, they have taken over the economy, the country and society to deny the population access to basic rights and opportunities.

Yangon’s art scene, a city of six million people, has flourished in the past five years, despite self-censorship in the wake of decades of propaganda education. Dozens of galleries and artist studios have appeared. Tourism, business interests, and a rising middle class made it possible for artists to, to some extent, express themselves and earn a dignified living from their creative lives through sales, residencies, and grants. Any imagined future based on previous successes no longer exists, and what remains is the struggle to rebuild, recreate, and strive for a brighter, newer potential.

The situation in Myanmar at the moment is dark and bleak. This weekend witnessed the worst bloodshed since the coup began; more than 100 people died, including a five-year-old boy. Average peaceful protesters, often under the age of 25, are shot point-blank in the head. Elected officials are kidnapped at night and their tortured corpses are returned to their families in the morning. The propaganda news is broadcast in the evenings reciting the stories of the day, twisted and worn to the point of being ridiculous; lies spread by a thin-skinned regime desperate for an era gone by, where people were isolated, with little access to information.

In the first weeks, the artists took to the streets and their keyboards. They built networks quickly. Established artists were looking for galleries and collectors, but Gen Z youth were even quicker than the experienced fine art public. They took photos they found on the internet of inspiring protest scenes, then created colorful digital copies, sharing them online saying “no credit needed”, “please share”, or even offering Google Drive links with high resolution versions for you. protesters and supporters of the movement could print them and take them out onto the streets.

That was almost four weeks ago. Now the printers are closed, having been officially threatened by the military for producing offensive materials for the regime. The protests at the central crossings of the city have dissipated, moving towards the outskirts. What remains is art, spray painted on the town hall, overpasses, shop fronts or street corners. Pieces of paper with the face of Min Aung Hlaing, the coup’s leading general, with an X on his face, pasted on the street and sidewalks for people to step on, a serious sign of disrespect in this mostly Buddhist country .

The hit should never have happened. Whatever the sins of Myanmar, the people do not deserve this repetitive fate of dictatorship and poverty. But it opened a path in terms of creativity: artists are no longer sure of their place in this society. The self-censorship suffered for many years has faded, and now they know what they are really capable of, when they have the support of the people. Public art has taken on a new meaning when it doesn’t ask for permission.

Myanmar artists are strong. Their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents suffered a similar fate under colonial or military governments. But like the rest of the world, Myanmar artists require a measurable amount of solidarity. So what can you do to help? This is what Myanmar artists need: posters, strikes, and significant acts of artist solidarity and insights with a large following and platform. Share on your platform, tag major media and social media accounts, and ask your institutions to support Myanmar artists, who are fighting, suffering, protesting and dying for the right to self-expression, a battle fought in everyone.

• Nathalie Johnston is the director of Myanm / art in Yangon, Myanmar

• This is an updated version of an article that appeared in the April 2021 issue of The art newspaper