Harry Roesli
Taking shots at terror

Hera Diani, The Jakarta Post, Bandung

Passing by the Rumah Nusantara cafe and gallery in North Bandung last Sunday, I saw a big black banner that read "Teroris, Pentas Musik 50 Jam" (Terrorist, 50-hour Music Performance).

And below the banner stood Harry Roesli, founder of Depot Kreasi dan Seni Bandung (DKSB, literally the Bandung art and creation refreshment stand). It was so him.

I went into the cafe and found a small stage out back, where a group was singing traditional keroncong music. Around the stage, dozens of people sat on the floor while a few others sat on chairs.

I walked around looking for Harry. And there he was, wearing his usual black outfit and black hat, sitting at a table with some people, including stage director/novelist Putu Wijaya.

Introducing myself, I waited at a nearby table until Harry finished his dinner.

The performance was his first appearance since the controversial Independence Day commemoration last August, when he sang a satirical version of Garuda Pancasila.

The free-of-charge performance was also a birthday party for Harry, who turned 50 on Sept. 10.

Running from Friday at 8 p.m. to Sunday at 10 p.m., the show included hundreds of performers, some famous some not, including over 100 street singers.

Ten minutes later, a man handed me an envelope on which Harry had written a poem: "The Jakarta Post which I respect, I pray, hoping that you will come, Pray to God ... please grant my wish, grant it, God, grant it ... Iman (Faith), Amen."

Inside the envelope was an invitation to a performance by the Bandung-based Teater Tanpa Nama (Anonymous Theater) on Saturday.

Harry (real name Djauhar Zaharsjah Fachruddin Roesli), having apparently finished dinner, then approached, ready for an interview.

Why did you decide to hold a 50-hour, non-stop show? Well, besides it being your 50th birthday?

So that I could meet people and talk with them for a long time. Usually it's, like, a two-hour show, and then after that talking with people for, like, an hour, and then we promise to meet again but we never meet. It's different now. I can meet old friends and acquaintances. And then where else can street kids share the same stage with Putu, (stage actress/director) Ratna Sarumpaet and (singer/songwriter) Doel Sumbang? What an experience for them. It can be motivating.

When did you come up with the idea?

Quite a long time ago. I've done 24-hour performances, 26- hour, 28-hour, 32-hour, 36-hour and now 50. Fifty also comes from 50 percent. Nothing is optimum in our country. Nothing has ever been done 100 percent. And neither is this show. It's not a show or a performance, it's just ... it.

And the terrorist thing?

Well, of course I was taking into account the situation now. I saw the U.S. attack Afghanistan last week, and I thought, "Oh, s---, this isn't right." And then the idea for the performance came. I want to do something that can "eliminate" terror, because there are too many terrors in our lives now. The impending fuel price increase, for example. That's also terrifying. Let's just try to eliminate our sense of being terrorized.

Facing terror with terror won't solve anything. Terror must be fought with something that counters terror.

Why hold the performance here?

It's the first time I have held something here. Usually I hold performances at the CCF (Centre Culturel Francais) building. But lately there have been some demonstrations, so I chose this place.

What about the performances and the performers?

This is a spontaneous show. People came and performed whenever they liked. We had keroncong, dangdut and then suddenly there was a snake dance. Yesterday, an old man came at 7 a.m. and said that he wanted to play guitar. As for famous performers like Putu and Ratna, I just called them, whether they wanted to come or not.

Why is it free of charge?

Why not? (laughs) If it can be free why should I charge for it?

Are you performing also?

Not really. I only played some songs on the keyboards. I should have performed, but it turned out there were a lot of other people who wanted to perform. But I am staying here for three days, watching people come and go. It turns out it's more tiring doing nothing than performing.

So, what have you been up to lately?

Mostly pushing the button on the remote control and watching TV (laughs). I rarely play music now. I can't play guitar anymore because my fingers hurt. I have this nerve ailment on the back of my head. I still write a column for Kompas daily every three weeks.

The idea? Well, don't be afraid to lose ideas here in this country (laughs).

What do you think of Bandung's music scene now?

Creatively, it's still good. But commercially, not very good. Bandung musicians have to move to Jakarta because that's where the money is.

Bandung bands and musicians used to dominate Indonesia's music scene, but not anymore.

It's an industry, after all. So now bands from Surabaya and Yogyakarta are hot and trendy. It's OK. It doesn't mean Bandung musicians are losing their creativity.

Why have you chosen to remain in Bandung?

I get more luxury here. I'm a middle- to upper-class resident here, while in Jakarta I'm middle to lower (laughs). I also get more luxury in terms of time and creativity. Besides, Jakarta is only three hours away.

The interview was suddenly interrupted when a group of people came over and greeted Harry. They were apparently old friends, and Harry ended the interview.

So I turned to Putu, who praised the show, which he said involved the audience emotionally.

"I think it can serve as a model, so shows are not just commodities where people come and go."

Putu said he and Harry had worked together on and off since 1982. And they have performed together several times abroad, including in Singapore, Germany and Japan.

"I don't know, we just click. I almost always turn to him when I need music illustrations for my work. We suit each other because we have the same power and energy," he said.

On stage, Harry was making fun of the emcee, Mamat, who was a street singer in the Leuwi Panjang bus terminal. Everybody laughed. More people came and the small cafe was packed.

A guitar player, one of Harry's friends, played some folk songs. After that a local group sang religious songs, while Harry stood on a table to watch.