Waving
an old art into daily life, one night at a time
An invitation to a traditional East
Javanese village wedding concert sounds special. It was, but needed commitment and stamina. It also revealed the tangled cultural
diversity of a nation of 270 million isn’t easily unravelled or explained, as Duncan Graham discovered:
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Any link with Jakarta is purely coincidental. The capital is far, far away, physically and
culturally. The 760 kilometres mapped by
geographers might just as well be years – and then some.
The evening started with the dahlang giving a triple twirl of a gunungan. A deep gong beat quivered through
the pillars propping a ceiling of sagging pink and blue drapes under a metal
roof. The mud-floor auditorium was open
on two sides and collecting puddles; houses flanked the others, doors and
windows open.
The launch of a wayang kulit (shadow puppet) show in the remote hamlet of Krisik satisfied
the nit-picking traditionalists in the audience paying the tab, while not offending
the less whiskery hoping to see and hear something hotter and more 21st
century.
They’d already been ignited with
‘semi-dangdut’ – a milder version of the raucous mix of Indian, Arabic and
local folk music that’s knock-out popular across Java. This has to be amplified
to the max. The invitation should have
added earplugs to the batik dress code.
Another sign of slight cultural shifts: The
inclusion of a keyboard, synthesizer, trombone and trumpet among the
metallophones in the orchestra pit. Indigenous
music-making in Java is moving, not fast but steadily.
Dahlang
Rudi Gareng (right) described his style as “contemporary wayang”.
“I want to preserve the old arts but I know
they can’t stay stationary. We need the
younger generation to get enthusiastic, to keep our inheritance alive. There’s
so much competition for teenagers’ attention. Western music can pull them away
from their culture. My job is to keep
them here by making wayang relevant.”
He seems to have struck the right chord
because he’s booked up weeks in advance
Dahlang means puppet master though in reality Gareng is more conductor,
composer, singer, tale-teller, showman and businessman.
Now he’s guide to the spectral world that
runs alongside and tonight merges.
Only polymaths gifted with a touch of mystique
get to the peak of their craft. Despite
his relative youth Gareng, 43, is already there in a profession usually
dominated by the wrinkled and toothless, their rheumy eyes peering into a past
invisible to amateurs.
Dahlangs are the intermediaries between reality and the spirit world. They
are popularly supposed to meditate, even slip into a trance before squatting in
front of the screen, presenting their backs to the watchers. Some seem to pray before jerking the
two-dimensional puppets into well-rounded characters.
 | |
| Putri Santono -Rudi | Gareng's wife |
Gareng is relaxed and casual, though this
may be veneer. His family says he sleeps
for hours before changing from T shirt to black jacket and sarong with a
holstered kris (wavy blade dagger)
thrust into his waistband. He lights up and smokes through the hours as do most
of the male musicians. Some of the fags
are kretek, with clove leaves in the
tobacco. Even the zero-tolerance quitters
reluctantly find the scent agreeable.
The pear-shaped gunungan Gareng presented to get the gig going is something like a
map of life starting with steps to a gateway.
However this is no sacred parchment fixed for eternity. There are variations
and sizes according to the regions where they originated, and the creativity of
the maker. Everything’s as flexible as
the buffalo skins used to make the contorted thin-limbed puppets, distinctively
Javanese.
Likewise with the story he’s about to tell
in front of a stretched white sheet serving as a screen, the shadow images
projected using a high-watt lamp. In the
old days it would have been a kerosene lantern, the flickering flame adding to
the spooky atmosphere.
The tale is of sharp-nosed Petruk and his
successful pursuit of Dewi Ambarawati after defeating other swains in combat. The theme is universal, as old as humanity: Boy
meets girl, boy loses girl, boy finds girl after many adventures and heroic
actions. Then they settle down
together. Happy ever after.
Petruk is one of the four Punokawan
brothers, Gareng, Bagong and the leader Semar with a big belly and fat backside
designed for many jokes about digestion and breaking wind. In some versions he
seems to be suffering from hemorrhoids,
hinting that constipation is a common complaint.
Indonesia
is full of contradictions; in this prim and proper Republic politicians think
they’ll get electoral credit by proposing laws to regulate bedroom behaviors. The
government has teams of censors puffing clouds over the slightest décolletage
on imported TV films and trumpeting that hundreds of thousands of porn sites
have been shut down.
Instead of protesting the kids just yawn,
then use their fingers to bypass the prudes and access their perversions
through virtual private networks overseas.
The Javanese prefer to adapt rather than confront.
Smut and double entendres remain well-embedded
in the wayang tradition, secure by
being indigenous and not from dirty-minded Hollywood.
The low-level crudity leads some to assume
the Punokawan are simple knockabouts playing much the same role as clowns in
European pantomimes. That’s a mistake
for all have a serious side, a little like the fools in Shakespearean drama and
jesters in regal courts. These
characters were licensed to tell monarchs truths that courtesans feared to
speak.
Don’t give Semar the flick. According to the late American cultural
anthropologist Clifford Geertz, Semar is wise and divine, the guardian spirit
of Java. His name is linked to the
Javanese word samara which translates
as ‘mysterious’.
Gareng learned
his skills and the stories from his late father. If he needs reinforcement and more ideas he
has only to visit his heritage by driving 30 minutes to the Siva Penataran
Temple complex. This is about 12 kilometers outside Blitar
and the largest Hindu relic in East Java.It’s not as well preserved or as old as the 9th century Prambanan Temple near Yogyakarta, and not as famous as the Mahayana Buddhist temple Borobudur which draws pilgrims and tourists from around the world.
However 12th century Penataran has something special – a vast number of carvings illustrating daily life. So we have clear images of people living in houses with tiled roofs and riding in large-wheeled carts pulled by horses. These wear harnesses much like those used today. There are buffaloes, coconut trees, many monkeys and laborers turning the soil with hoes – as they do now.
There are also fables, like the buffalo and crocodile which appear on the terraced monuments and a bathing pool so clear the fish scales wink in the sunbeams. The croc gets stranded away from water so hitches a lift on the bull’s back. Once safe the reptile attacks its savior who is rescued by other animals.
The supernatural stuff includes winged lions and snakes, and the forbidding dwarapala, squatting stone giants armed with maces and usually found by portals. They’re not exclusively Indonesian but guard gateways in Thailand, Myanmar, Vietnam and China though with different names.
Mixed among all the domesticity and kiddies’ tales is the Ramayana story, described by historians as ‘one of the largest ancient epics in world literature with almost 24,000 verses’. The Sanskrit original may be 2,700 years old. It tells of Prince Rama’s 14-year exile after being rejected by his step-mother, eventually helped to his rightful regal place by the flying monkey king Hanuman and his warriors.
It’s clearly more than an adventure story of dashing deeds by handsome heroes and coy maidens. Watchers can extract what they like whether its moral messages, style guides for the proper life which may eventually be rewarded, or just a good night out revisiting a familiar yarn.
The carvings at Penataran don’t follow the Indian original but a local version and source of Gareng’s tales. The Punokawan are not found elsewhere so thought to be a Javanese addition. There’s another account exclusive to Bali. The first known image of Semar is on a temple carving dated 1358.American scholar Ann Kinney is the lead author in Worshiping Siva and Buddha, a major account of temple art in East Java. She writes of Penataran that ‘the presentation of the Ramayana, with its deeply carved frontal figures and the complete elimination of empty spaces in the panel of reliefs is an excellent example of the wayang style developed during the Majapahit period.’ (This ran from about 1293 to 1527).
In Krisik and surrounding towns the first language is Javanese. Although all schoolchildren are taught the national tongue, Indonesian is reserved for formal and official interactions. Javanese has at least three styles, labeled ‘registers’ by linguists. These are chosen according to the ranks of the users and whether they’re speaking up to superiors and the elderly, or down to peasants and kids.No need to list the chances of making gaffes, so best stick to egalitarian Indonesian.
Gareng interprets Petruk’s quest in a local dialect that flummoxes city folk. That puts them in the same basket as non-Indonesians, making the storyline a tad difficult to follow.
Comprehension comes from closely watching the puppets’ body language. They put their hands on their hips, wag fingers, wave hands, point decisively, stalk off stage or rush on – in short much the same as actors. It doesn’t take long to figure out the personalities.
The music helps. When armies clash so do the gongs, when romance looms the flutes take over. The demons are so grotesque it’s difficult discovering their benign side, though Javanese lore teaches that none are wholly bad.
Fortunately for foreigners there’s nothing
rigid or solemn about the art and its rituals.
Apart from being barefoot on stage the protocols are minimal. The 100 puppets get a mighty thrashing in
their adventures and battles between good and evil so repairs are often
necessary. Gareng designs his own and has staff patiently perforating and
coloring the leather.
The characters are multi-dimensional and so
complex philistines would be tempted to glance and depart. They’d miss the spectacle and the revelation
that the location, the wedding, the environment, the music, the play, the
assaults on all senses are scrambled with no chance of separating the yokes and
whites, then scooping them back into the smashed shell.
For some the gunungan represents a mountain as the first six letters of the word
mean ‘mount’ as in Mount
Kawi, with Krisik on its
Western slope. It’s a dead volcano
(2,551 meters) and an important spiritual site mainly for ethnic Chinese
seeking business breaks, but also pribumi
(native born) who follow the Kebatinan beliefs
of old Java and add a shake of nationalism.
Among Kawi’s attractions are the graves
supposedly encasing the remains of Mbah (leader)
Imam Sujono who died in 1876 and his colleague Mbah Djoego, also known as Kiai Zakaria, who died five years
earlier.
The spelling of the names often differs. In keeping with the rest of this feature so do the stories. The principal theory is that both men were supporters or relatives of the high-born Diponegoro who led a rebellion against the Dutch.
The prince was caught in 1830 at Magelang, Central Java, and exiled to Makassar, South Sulawesi, where he died 25 years later. His colleagues fled to Kawi where they helped restore religiosity and improve cropping techniques.
The spelling of the names often differs. In keeping with the rest of this feature so do the stories. The principal theory is that both men were supporters or relatives of the high-born Diponegoro who led a rebellion against the Dutch.
The prince was caught in 1830 at Magelang, Central Java, and exiled to Makassar, South Sulawesi, where he died 25 years later. His colleagues fled to Kawi where they helped restore religiosity and improve cropping techniques.
Visiting the graves is supposed to bring
good fortune.
Does it work? The best known case, real or
imagined, is that of Ong Hok Liong who established the Bentoel tobacco company
after meditating on the mountain.
For years he'd unsuccessfully sought the
right name for his cigarettes. Then the sight (or dream) of a hawker selling
edible bamboo roots known as bentoel
set the heavy smoker and drinker on the road to creating what became the
nation's second biggest tobacco company, though now owned by a multinational,
and an early death from liver disease.
At least he didn't have to sit for hours or longer under the sacred dewandaru (Eugenia uniflora) waiting to catch a falling leaf, another alleged path to prosperity. The tree has outgrown the original railings so a bigger fence has been built to stop the impatient giving the branches a shake to rain down wealth.
At least he didn't have to sit for hours or longer under the sacred dewandaru (Eugenia uniflora) waiting to catch a falling leaf, another alleged path to prosperity. The tree has outgrown the original railings so a bigger fence has been built to stop the impatient giving the branches a shake to rain down wealth.
If the classification is correct, the tree
is a recent import from South America where it's known as the Surinam cherry.
This slice of science prunes the myth that the shrub was cursed to stay small by a holy man because it snagged his clothes. The sage was trekking through the area to divide the territories of King Airlangga. That was in the 11th century. On Gunung Kawi fiction trumps facts.
By now you’ll realize that the lush wilds
of East Java aren’t just the rich deposits of volcanic eruptions making the
island the world’s most fertile, but layers of mythology, history (plain and
embellished), ancient values and modern mysteries. These bubble to the surface like air trapped
in hot mud, ignoring the top coverings of the monotheistic religions which all
Indonesians are supposed to follow.
Overseas visitors to Kawi are welcome,
though tend to find the beliefs confusing and contradictory; this is the wrong
place to apply Western reasoning.
Although Krisik is about 1,000 meters from
the summit, when the three-day ceremonies involving the marriage of groom
Setiono and his bride Cicik Erfita were underway the peak was obscured by low
clouds and heavy rain.
It’s hard to find Krisik on maps but this is
spirit central. It isn’t just saturated
by the heavens it’s also deep in traditions and superstitions, ideal for Gareng
to pay homage through his performance.
No-one seems to know when the village was
established. The nearby Rambut Monte
(Monte’s hair) temple and lake is a Hindu worship area so possibly a Majapahit
settlement. Swimming is prohibited to pacify
a ‘God Fish’ so local authorities have built a pool alongside hoping this might
lure tourists. It might – if the roads
were repaired.
For others the gunungan suggests a place of worship – a position strengthened by
including a pop-eyed, multi-fanged kala atop
the image of stairs, trees, tigers and buffalo symmetrically facing each other. On the reverse another kala with claws and surrounded by tongues of fire. This links the wayang to the culture, so some background should help fit things
together.
The kala
is the sculpted visage found above gateways of Majapahit temples like Penataran. The East Java kingdom, based around an inland
port on the Brantas River, controlled or traded with much of Southeast Asia.
Nationalists reckon this was Java’s golden
time with the navy defeating a Mongolian Yuan army invasion and forcing the
fleet to flee back to China. The hero of the era was the ‘prime minister’
Gajah Mada, a figure still revered. The
main public university in Yogyakarta (Central Java)
carries his name.
When the empire collapsed in the 16th
century either through volcanic eruptions, in-fighting among the royals over
succession, or the arrival of Islam ousting the existing hierarchal faith, is
still debated by historians. Maybe all
three combined to send the regal families and followers east.
Most eventually settled in Bali which is why the island is predominantly Hindu. There are also breakaway pockets of Hindus in
East Java around the hilltown of Malang, the port of Banyuwangi
facing Bali and in mountain villages like
Krisik.
Upscale hotels in Yogyakarta and Ubud in Bali often promote wayang.
These cut-down tourist-specials usually last less than an hour to match the
attention spans of outsiders unfamiliar with the art, for the real McCoy only
stops come sunrise.
Which is the case in Krisik where the
families of the newly-wed couple have found Rp 35 million (US $2,600) to hire
Gareng’s Cakra Budaya (Chakra
culture) group to entertain guests and villagers. For this they got 44 performers and a
ten-hour concert.
Among the artists seven pesinden, women singers in elaborate
make-up which they apply while sitting on the floor in a house lounge, doors flung
wide. They’re watched by several little
girls learning to be women and the odd bloke who tries to look as though he’s mislaid
something though secretly seeking the thrill of seeing the transformation of
plain Sri to Princess Srikandi.
The singers seem unconcerned; they’ve added
their eyelashes, painted their lips and powdered their cheeks in villages so
many times voyeurs no longer annoy.
They’ve also mistressed the art of changing from dowdy street wear to
sparkling gowns without revealing bare flesh.
Crew boss Sadik Kalish, 48, said it’s tough
to find men to do the job because they have to spend much time away from their
families. “On one tour we never took a
break for 113 days,” he said. “We just
sleep in the cabs.”
The work isn’t arduous, though lifting
heavy boxes bigger than coffins of wayang
kulit characters needs muscle. Much
time is spent arranging the puppets in the right order and waiting for the show
to start and end.
In the play’s second hour there were about
500 in the audience scattered around all sides. Men and women, boys and girls
sat together. Headscarves were rare.
People came and went. Some watched and focused, others chatted. Inattention
didn’t seem to bother the musicians. The
respect given by sober-faced audiences to players in Western symphony
orchestras was absent. Kids ran around with balloons daubed with
Disney cartoon images. Fortunately popping
deflated the alien intrusion.
Those who drifted away bought snacks from hawkers
who’d driven up the mountain to cook, sell and tease. The bored chanced their
luck on kletek, a crude board game
involving balls rolling down a slope and into numbered slots. Gambling is illegal in Indonesia but that didn’t seem to
be a problem for the dozens of men clustered round the croupier.
While playing they could follow the plot
broadcast through giant speakers. Any who wanted more checked a live video feed,
though the connection was weak.
Much stronger was the smell of cattle for
Krisik’s 350 families make their money by selling raw milk to the Nestle
multinational’s processing plant at Pasuruan on the north coast. Tankers
collect daily. The animals are hand-fed in byres alongside homes, the cattlemen
cutting and carting loads of grass on motorbikes.
Among this collision of real and imagined, old
and new there are flies and mud, crumbling cobbled roads and plunging hillsides,
lowing bovines and rattling motorbikes. The nearest basic hotel is 40 minutes
distant, so accepting a wedding invite in this region is not for those who put comfort
first.
But for the curious wanting to experience an
ancient but still throbbing culture in the raw, and a glimpse into Java’s
secret worlds – seek now.
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First published in Strategic Review, July 2020: http://sr.sgpp.ac.id/post/waving-an-old-art-into-daily-life
