The first and most noticeable feature of MET Glodok—a space that multidisciplinary artist Metta Setiandi recently opened on the first floor of her studio and home on Kemenangan III Street—is that it is a café, albeit one that only opens on the weekends.
Upon entrance, an alfresco dining area with grey tables mirrors the tone of the sleek four-story architecture that stands in contrast to Glodok’s vibrant and old-time surroundings. While further inside, adorned with personal mementoes like a framed portrait of Metta’s late grandparents, an all-black bar welcomes patrons to order from MET’s simple menu of croissant-based sandwiches that take on a thin and elongated form—crafted by LIT Bakehouse, the neighbourhood artisanal bakery run by her sister, Lalita Setiandi.
Options range from the monochromatic Pisang Coklat Sandwich—drawing inspiration from Metta’s 2019 calligraphy work ‘State of Being’ and the classic childhood treat of pisang coklat (banana fritters with chocolate sauce), which Lalita describes as “the intersection between Metta as an artist and familiar, local flavours”—to nostalgic beverages like iced Luo Han Guo, a sweet monk fruit infusion known for its healing properties in traditional Chinese medicine.
But this experience is just one facet of MET. At its heart, the space is an intimate portrayal of Glodok, filtered through Metta’s deeply personal lens as someone who grew up in the neighbourhood and has continued to call it home; a reflective theme that runs through much of her artwork. “It’s remarkable how much you can discover, not by looking outward, but by turning inward. Everything outside is just a reference—the real answers are found within. Wherever I go, whomever I meet, it’s Glodok that always grounds me,” noted the artist.
At MET, this reflection is explored through multiple mediums. There’s the Artist Series, which invites creatives—including photographers Chris Bunjamin, Irene Insan and Mudita Nanda as well as illustrator Nio Han—to capture Jakarta’s Chinatown and its cultural heritage through their own artistic perspective. Another programme is the soon-to-be-released podcast series Chineesch Kwartier (Dutch for ‘Chinese Quarter’), a retrospective look into the neighbourhood as the birthplace of Chinese Indonesian culture in the city, drawing on cherished memories of respected figures such as Metta’s father, Koh Lie Thong, and archaeologist Pak Candrian Attahiyat.
When they opened their doors back in October, MET also introduced the Heritage Tour, an immersive walking excursion across Glodok that invites participants to experience the neighbourhood and its traditions, threading through its past and present with personal stories, introductions to the locals and visits to historic landmarks that have endured in the community for generations. The first volume starts with an intimate and personal journey through the footsteps of Metta’s ancestors: the Tian family behind Toko Tian Liong, a shop for cooking equipment and culinary essentials that has become one of the neighbourhood’s hallmarks over its nearly one century of existence.
From the anxieties of living under Dutch and Japanese occupation as immigrants from Fujian, China, to the fear and paranoia of the ‘98 riots targeting Chinese Indonesian business owners, her retelling doesn’t shy away from hardship. Yet, it also highlights moments of resilience and joy, such as the ‘80s economic boom that turned the family shop into a popular department store, their close-knit relationship with neighbours who safeguarded the store from rioters, and the euphoria of reclaiming traditions and faith after decades of cultural suppression under Soeharto’s regime (1966-1998).
“I’ve always felt a yearning to bring the unseen into light, and that can touch on so many things,” shared Metta. “The stories we revisit during the tour—the told and untold—may not reveal their full impact, but we understand how much they mean to our community. So I’m doing this for myself and for my ancestors. And this isn’t something that is romanticised, it’s yearning that comes from grief, like the loss of a family member, a neighbour, or an opportunity missed.”
The tour experience itself, however, is lighthearted and even joyful—an irony that Metta readily acknowledges. Stretching across four hours, it saw the group travelling from known locations like Pantjoran Tea House and Toko Tian Liong to the interconnected, bustling alleyways of Petak Sembilan market, and also centuries-old Buddhist temples that are integral to the neighbourhood’s way of life. Welcoming the tour inside her favourite temple, the Tan Seng Ong Temple, Metta shared, “If you see a lot of temples in Glodok that somehow still exist, it’s because these are the only places where people could find shelter in difficult times and also hold onto a sense of community.”
On a lucky day, the journey might take unexpected detours that further reveal the artist’s deep connection to the people living among Glodok’s labyrinthine alleyways; from the home of the late calligraphy artist Apak Lioe Ren Chen, who taught Metta the weight of emotions that can be expressed in a brush stroke, to the store of an elderly lady selling buttons and buckles (Toko A Lin) where Metta likes to go for—funnily enough—her homemade bakpao (steamed buns).
In much the same way her art—be it calligraphy, photography, or ceramics—draws from the stories and heritage of the neighbourhood, through MET Glodok, the artist continues to build on this rich narrative, encouraging new perspectives and inviting visitors to truly experience and connect with the community firsthand. “This place has blessed me in more ways than I can count. I often pray that if my work [of giving back to the neighbourhood] isn’t yet complete, then I want the chance to be born here in Glodok again,” conveyed Metta.
