In “The Mandala Grid,” Indonesian artist Yohanes Fitri brings a temple from his home province of Riau into a vision of the year 2126. His Muara Takus Manifesto asks what kind of future we want to build – and what we hope it will leave us time for.
The turtle looks straight at the viewer. Red temple buildings rise behind her. Beside them grows a large tree, while a transparent dome arches over both. In the distance, pale transit routes wind through a green city. Roots spread beneath the turtle. Yohanes painted the 100 × 80 cm work in acrylic on canvas.
The temple buildings stand beside the tree as a city grows around them. What I like is the way Yohanes paints the sheen of technology alongside earth, skin and foliage. Each has a place in the picture.
The work is called “The Mandala Grid.” Yohanes lives and works in Riau, on the Indonesian island of Sumatra. I first wrote about him in June 2020, just over six years ago, and have followed his work ever since. From time to time, he sends me a new piece that stays with me. This time, it was the turtle.
His latest work takes us to a real place. Muara Takus is a Buddhist temple complex in Riau, near the Kampar Kanan River. Its structures include Candi Mahligai, a tall, tower-like stupa. The complex has been on Indonesia’s tentative list for UNESCO World Heritage status since 2009. For Yohanes, it is the starting point for imagining what the world might look like a century from now.
A Future with Roots
Yohanes calls the text accompanying his vision “The Muara Takus Manifesto: Techno-Spirituality and the Mandala Grid of 2126.” He begins with the temple’s materials: red bricks, river stones and sand. What interests him is the building’s connection to its surroundings. From there, he imagines future cities built with living architecture and smart biomaterials.
On canvas, he explores that idea through paint. In the manifesto, Yohanes describes using acrylic to create the appearance of metallic surfaces beside organic, earthy tones. The meeting of nature and technology is, first of all, an artistic possibility. It raises a question about the world beyond the painting: Could we one day build infrastructure that belongs to its landscape?
The picture offers no easy answer. The turtle wears pieces of armour but remains unmistakably an animal. The tree grows among the temple buildings, with a dome stretching above them. The city beyond is green, yet its transit routes are clearly visible. Yohanes is painting a world that people have shaped and inhabited. He invites us to consider how its different parts might live together.
A Centre That Connects
In the second part of his manifesto, Yohanes reads the arrangement of Muara Takus’s structures as a mandala. From it, he develops a vision of autonomous regions that remain connected to one another. No single place governs all the others; each forms part of a larger whole.
He imagines advanced quantum networks linking those regions in 2126. Whether such networks could ever play that role remains an open question. What interests me more is the idea behind them: What would a network look like if it brought people together while allowing places and cultures to retain their independence?
What Are We Gaining Time For?
The final part of the manifesto moves me most. Yohanes places artificial intelligence, robotics and automation, in his words, at the foot of the temple. In his vision, they take on repetitive work in fields such as agriculture, energy distribution and administration. People would then have more time for art, philosophy and their inner lives.
We do not know whether machines will ever free us from necessary work in this way. And even if they could, we would still have to decide who benefits from the time they save. But the question Yohanes raises is one we can ask now: What do we actually want technology to make possible?
He writes about Śūnyatā and silence. I would not want to reduce a concept from Buddhist philosophy to a break from notifications. Still, his vision speaks to something in our present lives. Perhaps one of technology’s most valuable achievements would be to give us more room to listen, think and create.
Alongside this vision of the future, Yohanes is developing another project rooted in the materials of Riau. Through PT Yostri Art Indonesia, he plans to research natural pigments from the region’s soils and minerals and invite artists to work with them. The research and exhibition project is still in development. I recognise in it something that fascinates me about his art: he looks closely at the place around him when he imagines what might come next.
The turtle is in no hurry. She carries her world as she moves. And she leaves me with a question: What must we bring with us if the future is to have room for us all?
