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I recently visited the annual Yogyakarta Art Fair, now jauntily renamed Art Jog. Apart from confirming that Yogyakarta remains a crucible of artistic talent and creativity in Indonesia, I was struck by the enduring sense of the urgency and the political messages in many of the works. This came as a relief to me because of my long-held fear that many of the city’s young artists, in difficult times, would seek commercial refuge in the plastic and ephemeral pop style. Stylistically, the tendency remains, but the sheer audacity of some the themes somehow makes up for the deficit.

The visual art scene is in the vanguard of Indonesia’s social and political vitality. While mainstream media tends to be haunted by the scandal du jour and focuses on sensational, personality-driven gossip, the canvases and sculptures produced by the talented young men and women who flock to this student city are filled with trenchant commentary on Indonesia’s condition. Coursing through the creative installations and performances that crowd the dusty art spaces and galleries is an urgent clarion call: Don’t take our freedom for granted, be vigilant.

Yogya artists revel in contradiction. They paint, carve and mold or conglomerate contradictions as they afflict society and convey them as clever statements. The effect is visually stimulating, but also makes the viewer think about the deeper meaning: the mess this world ours is really in.

In this way, these young artists have transcended the simple desire to please and instead trick us with clever imagery into thinking more deeply about our own situation.

Artist Amrizal Sulaiman presented a mundane air mail envelope illustrated with a simple cartoon and addressed to the president, with the phrase “Look at Yourself,” running along the edge of the envelope. Azhar Horo’s “Drama Babi” featured a vibrantly rendered exploding pig held by some unseen men in suits, which captures the uncertainty of the corporate world more than adequately.

I also saw a lot of work cleverly portraying the human condition, including I Nyoman Darya’s “Super Shopper” and Nurrahmat Widyasena’s striking monochrome series, “By Food We Live and Into Food We Finally Pass.”

The rampant consumerism that has accompanied Indonesia’s rising prosperity over the past two decades has infused a lot of the art with a deep sense of malaise and alienation as characterized most popularly in the hot-selling works of Balinese wunderkind Nyoman Masriadi. The works seem to ask: “Where are we headed? What is to become of us?”

The fact that so much contemporary Indonesian art takes on serious social themes is one of the enduring legacies of the reform era and something to be cherished.

Like the theater, the visual art scene strives to remind people of their failings by holding up a mirror to the viewers. What makes this so much more interesting is that both the theater and the contemporary visual arts community employ styles and techniques that are rooted in the traditional skills of native artisans, rather than outside influences.

The accuracy and accomplishment of these images makes the viewer feel they are in the midst of swirling action rather than just a static observer. The use of awkward, evil and forbidden objects like pigs and weapons shocks but also stimulates the mind, which then wonders what kind of person would create a pickup truck stuffed with a bulging fiber-glass brain.

There’s more than a commercial value to this vibrant festival of expression. It is my belief that Indonesia’s vibrant civil society derives its core strength and vitality from the bold imagination of these young artists. There’s no taboo, no subject untouched in a society where politicians seek to constrain through religious values and fear of instability.

One of the most striking works displayed at Art Jog, which sadly closed at the end of July, was Balinese artist Krisna Murti’s “Videohijab.” The video performance involved images of women wearing hijabs in various poses viewed in a lineup through a darkened room. It was simple, striking and conveyed a message even the mainstream media gets tongue-tied over.

As Indonesia celebrates another year of national freedom, it faces a minicrisis of confidence in the pursuit of reform over the sentencing of a victim of mob violence to jail on Monday, and the government’s failure to stem corruption. It’s therefore heartening to know that the artists of Yogyakarta show no sign of giving up the never-ending struggle to highlight the contradictions in society. In my mind, they are the modern pejuangan , upholding the spirit of Indonesia’s revolution.

Michael Vatikiotis is Asia regional director at the Henry Dunant Center for Humanitarian Dialogue in Singapore.