Does batik 'tulis' have a place in the global village?

By Dini S. Djalal

Jakarta (JP): Batik. For centuries the word symbolized the enigmatic Orient to the outside world. Like the societies in which it flourished, batik was sophisticated yet earthy, sensuous yet virtuous.

Batik flowered amidst the genteel traditions of Javanese culture. But it was under Dutch colonization, which increased silk imports, that batik tulis reached ever more elaborate dimensions. Thousands of women dedicated their lives to batik- making. Among royal Javanese women, batikking skills were a crucial element of one's social standing.

Today, many argue that the art of batik is undergoing corrosion. Machine-manufactured batik, or batik cap, is dominating the marketplace. Western clothes dominate consumers' closets. Does batik tulis have a place in the global village?

Yes, says Josephine Komara, popularly known as Obin. Her batik label, Bin House, held a solo exhibit and fashion show in Indonesia last week at Hotel Sahid Jaya.

Although Obin insists on being anti-fashion -- "I prefer to be called a patron rather than a designer," she said -- the show was a major fashion event. "It was so beautiful. That's what we should be doing, clothes with a more Indonesian flavor," said local designer Taruna Kusmayadi.

Barefoot

"Obin has vision," said Femina magazine publisher Pia Alisjahbana, referring to Obin's tight supervision of the entire collection, from the stage design to the models' choreography. "I just want things done the best possible way," explained Obin.

For the most part, it was. From the moment a barefoot kebaya- clad woman appeared on the stage, set up like a house interior, rummaging through a pile of kain (cloth), the audience knew this would be more than the typical parade of pouty models. Sure they pouted, but they also smiled, danced, and positively glowed in the brilliant batiks.

That was the real show: the kain. Fluttering like butterflies, selendang (scarf) after selendang floated down the catwalk. And float they did. As light and colorful as a Kingfisher feather, the slightest movement had the kain breezing through the air. The sight was as invigorating as a summer's day.

But the kain did not stand alone. Complimenting them were simple separates in soft but vibrant colors, even for the winter collection. Shirts were often Chinese-style or feather-weight, and skirts and trousers were long and fluid. The 1920s-style bias-cut gowns, in velvet and silk pleats, were lovely.

Winter-wear was wraps, knits, and roomy coats in various weaves. A distraction was the black patent high heels -- too hard against such delicate textures. And the calf-length dirndl skirts, especially when worn with somber expressions, recalled a scene from Doctor Zhivago. But in general, the clothes were functional but fashionable, layered in a charmingly haphazard style, as if put together by a woman less concerned about appearances than comfort.

And color. Pewter, magenta, turmeric, seaweed, cobalt, grape -- there are not enough names in my vocabulary for all the hues Bin House realizes. Even the most unlikely color combinations worked. Army green with powder pink? In sensuous raw silk, it looked great.

The men also looked great, even when standing shorter than the female models who tied scarves around their necks. Most shirts were collarless in typical Javanese style. Trousers were baggy and tied at the waist like sarongs. At one point, they all danced to a dangdut tune sung in Japanese. The cheer was infectious.

Synergy

But that infectious cheer stems from Obin's charisma. A vivacious forty-something with long black hair and a smile, she is obviously the spirit behind the design team at Bin House.

And Obin insists that Bin House is about teamwork. "Bin House is a slogan, a place for people with different tasks but the same ideas," she said. She counts three other key people in the design team: Yusman Siswandi, his wife Inke Rafida, and Obin's husband Ronny Siswandi. They each have their specialties: Yusman explores and refines silk weaving techniques, Inke oversees motif applications, Ronny acts as general manager and supervises research and development, while Obin designs compositions and provides overall direction.

She also provides a lot of enthusiasm. "I'm a cloth lover," she says repeatedly. "I want to make batik that is as beautiful as the older pieces," she said.

But the batiks take on her distinct personality. During an interview with The Jakarta Post, she wore a kebaya, which most women wear only on formal occasions. "I feel good in a kebaya. I feel comfortable," said Obin. "But many women saw their mothers wear kebaya and assume it's uncomfortable. Modern fashions give them something more comfortable and colorful, although a kebaya is colorful too, but of a different kind," she said.

When asked if her kain suit today's modern lifestyle, Obin's answer championed not only the kain but individualism. "Cloths are more flexible. You can wear them in so many ways at so many different occasions. It's all up to the individual," she said.

Yet only wealthy individuals can afford such individualism. Obin's batiks are prohibitively expensive, with small scarves costing Rp 500,000 (US$212) and long batiks fetching millions of rupiah.

Obin counters that quality has never come cheap. "Fine batik was always expensive. That's why in the past, people took great care of their kain," she said.

Obin adds that quality, in whatever form and at whatever price, always sells. "As long as people will buy fine things, they will always buy fine batik," she said.

And people are buying. Now working out of seven workshops throughout Java which employ 800 workers, in under 10 years Obin has transformed her passion into a thriving cottage industry with boutiques in Tokyo, Singapore, New York, Bali, Jakarta, and soon, Hong Kong, Hawaii and Guam.

Obin's success story is especially impressive given that she only began producing batik on silk in 1988. Today, the colorful silks, which constitute 70 percent of the collection, are painted with experimental "natural" colors derived from bark, fruit and leaves. "We even do batik on paper. I'm even interested in making batik flowers!," Obin said enthusiastically.

Obin's explanations of her textile experimentations symbolize her triumphant strength and determination. As her eyes focused in a steely glare, she said: "What you do and on what, there's no limit".