- Kompas Sunday Editor, Jakarta, Indonesia
Imet Alain Godon at Jais Dargawijaya’s home in Sanur, Bali. She had spoken to me about him as her friend, a French artist, visiting and staying with her. When I arrived from Jakarta, Godon wasn’t there. The maid pointed out the bungalow where he was staying and confirmed that he had gone out. The accommodation consists of several bungalows, two swimming pools and a ‘balai daja’ where the host and guests linger and chat over food and drink. The house is cozy and comfortable and some even say that if Ubud has its Amandari, then Sanur has its Amanjais.
Later that afternoon it poured with rain. We were all invited for dinner at the home of Astari and Pintor Sirait, Indonesian artists also living in the Sanur area. All of us, that is to say Jais, my wife and I, were ready to leave but were waiting for Godon who hadn’t turned up.
While the hostess was retouching her make-up in her room, I saw a shadow approaching the glass door. I got up to open the door to a man with shoulder length hair soaked by the rain. He had no clothes on, practically naked, in only his underpants. Hi, I am Godon,” he said. “Oh, so this is Godon,” I thought, “he looks like Tarzan.“
Ishook his warm hand. My first impression was warm, spontaneous, friendly and funny. I wasn’t wrong at all because when I got to know him better, I saw some of his paintings which totally reflect his character. In Godon’s paintings, we see the childlike telling of a story that is spontaneous, honest and strewn with hilarious ironies.
The next afternoon, I saw him trying to communicate with Jais’s maid. Apparently, he was looking for his clothes, which probably after washing hadn’t found their way back to their owner or had perhaps ended up in the wrong bungalow. “If those clothes aren’t found before I go back to France, then I’ll have to go the airport like this…” he said, pointing at his underpants.
From that moment, my first impression of Godon was fixed firmly in my memory; Godon is like Tarzan!