When passing the main road of Cikini, it is almost impossible to miss Cikini 82 with its tall trellis gate and the unmistakable facade of Dutch colonial architecture. With its expansive veranda, framed by wooden pillars exuding a style often found in many Betawi and Javanese houses, this property stands as a monumental anchor between Indonesia’s past and present.
Across the veranda stands the inauguration stone, signed by former Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi on 19 August 2024. It marks Cikini 82 as the first office of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, honouring its historic role as the home of Indonesia’s first Foreign Minister and one of the Fathers of Independence, Achmad Soebardjo.
*This article is the newly edited version, adjusted for clarity.
When elected as Minister, Soebardjo used this property as the first Foreign Affairs office. Here, he welcomed foreign dignitaries, and shaped policies. Once leadership shifted, the house returned to its role as a family residence. It sheltered not only Soebardjo’s children but also extended relatives and friends, and even served once as a local dance studio established by one of his descendants.
After decades of outlasting eras, the property was sold in July 2023 by Soebardjo’s heirs to Lawyer Lukas Budiono, who saw its potential as both a cultural landmark and a community hub. Over the next two years, Lukas, together with architect Arya Triadi, embarked on a meticulous restoration project. Though not yet recognised as a heritage site by law (de jure), Cikini 82 holds undeniable historical weight (de facto).
“This place holds a history you cannot separate from the story of Indonesia,” Arya notes. It is where the nation’s prominent figures once walked and lived within its walls.
People often say that to understand the future, one must first look to the past, and this is the guiding principle behind Arya’s work on the restoration. He has preserved as much of the original material as possible while carefully adapting the house for contemporary use. For Arya, the historical values and inherited design elements are the very lifeblood that keep Cikini 82 alive.
During the restoration, the front terrace was stripped back to reveal its Dutch colonial bones, with floors and ceilings restored to their original condition. The veranda, once enclosed by walls for privacy, was opened up, allowing its elegant façade to be seen once again
Flanking the veranda are two tamarind trees, estimated to be more than a century old, their roots reaching back to the Dutch colonial era. Over the years, they began to wither, their decline hastened by the soil’s increasing acidity. Arya brought in an arborist, who discovered that the inner wood of the trunks had been hollowed out by the invasive roots of a strangler fig. Though unsalvageable in their natural state, they were not removed. Instead, a master carver from Jepara was invited to engrave their trunks, transforming what could have been a loss into living monuments.
Inside, about 90 percent of the structure remains authentic. Two veranda columns, eaten through by termites, had to be replaced, but elsewhere the house speaks in its original language. During the Dutch colonial period, white-painted wooden ceilings symbolised wealth and authority, as maintaining their pristine finish required considerable expense. In the restoration, Arya returned the ceiling to its natural wood. “Today, true strength is shown by letting the quality of the wood speak for itself,” he explains.
The Salon Room, once the site of Soebardjo’s meetings, has been preserved with care. Among the preserved relics is a photograph of President Soekarno, cigarette in hand, seated in quiet ease. Unlike the formal portraits that fill history books, here he appears relaxed, almost at home. Another photo shows Achmad Soebardjo with President Soekarno and other prominent figures, deeply focused on one another over stacks of paper— who knows what decisions were made there that may have shaped our lives today.
To the left of the Salon Room lies Soebardjo’s study, equally well preserved. His desk, chair, bookshelves, and even a self-portrait with his wife remain intact. Only practical updates have been made: reupholstered seating and simplified furnishings. For events, the study is strictly off-limits, while the Salon Room may be used but never rearranged.
A House of Many Lives
Cikini 82 now consists of three sections: the Main House, the East Pavilion, and the West Pavilion. In Soebardjo’s time, his children and their families lived here alongside nieces, nephews, and guests, including Tan Malaka, who was known as the Father of the Republic, and President Soekarno—both of whom have lodged in the estate.
This layering of lives is what Arya wanted to preserve. In the Main House, the aim was conservation. In the pavilions, however, Arya allowed his own design language to emerge more boldly. “People expect the Dutch colonial style to spread through the pavilions. Instead, I wanted to surprise them.”
The East Pavilion tells a story of travel and cosmopolitanism. Here, Arya blended influences that reflect Soebardjo’s international connections, particularly his time accross Europe. Decorative flourishes evoke Lake Como, yet the furniture is somewhat Indonesian but contemporary. “I wanted visitors to feel that this was the home of a well-travelled man,” Arya explains. When asked if there’s a specific style or design era he wants to aim for with this restoration, he answers that there isn’t any.
“My approach wasn’t to box the design into a fixed style. I wanted it to feel timeless, not easily categorised,” he says. “A design that creates conversation, even debate. Personally, I think that is what makes it good”
The result is eclectic but deliberate. Guests often remark on how different the pavilion feels from the Main House. That, Arya insists, is the point: “You can experience three different styles in one venue.”
This Pavilion also carries its own weight of history. This is where Tan Malaka, revolutionary thinker and nationalist, once lived. During his time here, Malaka would be introduced by Soebarjo to his niece, Paramita ‘Jo’ Abdurachman; the two would eventually form a romantic relationship. It was in these rooms that Soebardjo introduced Tan Malaka to Soekarno, bridging friendship, contention, and political consequence that would shape the republic.
In the days immediately following independence, Tan Malaka stayed in what is now the Queen Room, while Soekarno frequented the house as a guest. Today, the two suites—the King Room with its lounge, and the Queen Room with its lounge—are available for visitors to rent. International tourists have already stayed here, drawn by the allure of a boutique hotel woven with history.
The West Pavilion, meanwhile, would make one think that it takes its cue from the Orient Express. Velvet-red walls and marble floors, cut and repurposed from salvaged stone, create the atmosphere of a train carriage. The nod is intentional to the railway line that still runs behind the house. The decor here is intentionally mismatched in a way that through its variety, it creates a cohesion with character.
Today, people can rent the venue for weddings, seminars, exhibitions, and even book launches. Communities, especially cultural and art, are also very welcome for a collaboration with the venue. Guided walking tours are now offered for groups of ten to twenty-five by reservation, often booked via Instagram.
Jl. Cikini Raya No.82, Menteng
+62 811 1010 5800
@cikini_82
