A few months into 2026, Jakarta-based artist collective ruangrupa spent time in Tokyo for their exhibition, Shared Living Room: DEFOAMAT 2026, presenting a series of gatherings across venues including Daikanyama T-SITE, Daikanyama UNIT/SALOON, MIDORI.so, the Former Asakura Residence (Kyu-Asakura House) and WPÜ SHINJUKU. In pursuit of transcending the expectation that exhibitions exist solely to showcase finished works, the project reflected the collective’s long-standing belief that art is as much about creating relationships as it is about making tangible objects.
Founded in Jakarta in 2000, in the wake of Indonesia’s political reforms, ruangrupa emerged from a shared urgency among friends to build the kinds of spaces that had yet to exist. What began as an initiative to exhibit artwork gradually evolved into something far more expansive: a platform for publishing, archiving, research, collective learning and simply spending time together. Today, the name ruangrupa, often translated as “a space for form,” has come to represent more than its literal meaning. It has become a constellation of practices, relationships and shared ways of being; an evolving commons that can only be molded through collaboration, care and an enduring ethos that art is inseparable from the communities that give it life.
Everything is slowly built through repeated encounters, moments of disagreement, shared labor with having the ability to support each other over time. May it be through activities shared in a kitchen, a radio station, a living room, or an exhibition, the format itself is secondary. What matters is the conscious choice to create spaces with intention— places where people can meet, exchange knowledge, and participate in whatever way feels most natural. In a world increasingly shaped by digital interactions, these spaces make human connection feel necessary again, bringing to light that learning is not confined to formal institutions. As ruangrupa believes, important knowledge also comes from neighbors, street vendors, farmers, musicians, students, small publishers, cooks, and countless others. The same principle extends beyond their practice, a new way of thinking that can be applied across different contexts.
ruangrupa’s practice feels less concerned with producing answers than with creating the conditions for meaningful encounters. Their projects don’t ask audiences to arrive at the same conclusion; instead, they invite people to carry forward a way of working. As they put it, “Maybe they leave with a question, a method, or a small tool they can adapt in their own context.” In a time when cities continue to change and spaces for gathering become increasingly fragile, it almost feels like a very humble approach yet generous proposition: that perhaps one of the most important things we can create is simply the space for people to meet, stay awhile, and imagine together.
