Independence spirit lives on in Kris Biantoro
Hera Diani, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta
Held in conjunction with National Heroes Day on Nov. 10, the launching of entertainer Kris Biantoro's autobiography Manisnya Ditolak (The Sweetness of Rejection) looked like a veterans' convention.
Most of the guests at Bentara Budaya Jakarta in Central Jakarta were elderly, there were old pictures adorning the walls and the screening of a documentary, with grainy images of the Dutch colonial era and Japanese occupation during World War II.
Gen. (ret.) Herman Sarens Soediro, in what looked like a uniform inspired by Gen. Ulysses S. Grant, took the stage, babbling on about the glory days of fighting against colonialism, and complaining that young people today are ungrateful.
Just as I was in two minds about whether to stay, Kris was invited on stage, and scenes of his heyday as the top quizmaster and emcee back in the 1970s flashed on the screen.
The images were a reminder that it is difficult to find an entertainer as well-rounded as Kris Biantoro today. Not only is he a skilled and lively emcee and TV show host, he is also a singer of several classic hits, an actor and comedian.
Back when state-run TVRI was the only television station in the country, Kris Biantoro was a household name, hosting several quiz shows as well as being the spokesman for a detergent brand for 17 years.
A spritely 66, Kris has not lost his spirit. He greeted everyone by shouting "Merdeka! (Freedom), which harks back to the fight to oust the Dutch from the archipelago in the late 1940s.
"It's a greeting of unity. It doesn't necessarily mean united against colonialism. But united as a nation regardless of the situation, whatever the religion or ethnic group," he said.
In fact, he hopes that people will go back to using it as an everyday greeting.
"We usually start a speech or a meeting with the (Islamic greeting) Assalamualaikum (peace be unto you) and salam sejahtera (peace greeting). Aside from being too long, I think they're too segregating."
But just when everybody thought he was going to follow Herman's lead and take the opportunity to berate the younger generation, Kris said he did not expect young people to be stuck in the romanticism of the colonial era.
"But with the economy going down the drain, and being labeled a terrorist country ... Young people have the moral obligation to fight against it so that we, the elderly who fought for independence, will die in peace."
He acknowledged that he was saddened by the behavior of some of the younger generation, especially those in show business.
"Everybody is a celebrity right now. The media easily iconizes people and labels them a celebrity. Such a label is a new form of feudalism," he said, while doing a sendup of the antics of so- called celebrities.
The shoddy work ethos in television and those "celebrities", especially stars of TV soaps, baffle Kris the most, with actors arriving late to the set and not knowing their lines.
"In my time, we usually got the script three months before shooting. We had to memorize it, do reading exercises.
"I'm not bitter. But those artists will likely be gone in one or two years. Be a celebrity, but don't act like one. Every profession requires a long process to reach the soul."
As he recounts in his autobiography, Kris indeed took a long and winding road to stardom, dealing with some potholes along the way.
Born into a hard-scrabble existence during colonialism in Magelang, Central Java, Kris' talent of singing and performing was evident from the time he was a preteen.
After graduating from SMU De Britto high school in Yogyakarta, he dropped out of several universities in Jakarta, his studies suffering due to his singing gigs.
He then worked as a civil servant during the day and performed at night, gradually making his name as an entertainer.
His breakthrough came in 1963 when his album, Dondong Opo Salak, especially the title track, a Javanese pop song about tropical fruits that Kris wrote, became a hit.
He was dubbed the Indonesian Mario Lanza, the legendary American tenor and movie star who brought opera to the people.
Feeling uneasy with that suffocating label, plus the pressure from the then powerful Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) to join their arts organization Lekra, Kris headed to Australia in 1964.
"The media label really made me uncomfortable. I mean, until today, there is hardly a male singer who can reach seven octaves like him. I went Down Under to prove that I deserved the label."
He learned vocal technique at the Sydney Conservatory of Music, while also working at the Indonesian Embassy.
In 1967, however, he was forced to leave the job, ostensibly due to budgetary constraints for foreign missions.
Kris said the real reason was his marriage to a Vietnamese woman, Maria Nguyen Kim Dung, and her home country's association with communism at the height of the Vietnam War.
By doing several jobs to make end's meet, including singing in bars and performing in an opera, Kris was able to bring Maria to Jakarta in the hope of a better life.
Times were tough initially, but TVRI offered him a job to perform and host a show. Soon, other offers were coming in, including being a regular performer at an exclusive club, films and on the comedy show Pantomim Ria.
Kris often looked for new talent and helped groom them, such as noted emcee/TV show host Koes Hendratmo.
A self-confessed critical, "idealistic" person, Kris said he often faced a backlash from people or institutions he criticized.
He was fired by TVRI in 1980 after questioning its management. The falling out stemmed from an incident in which somebody at the TV station yanked off his crucifix so he could not wear it during a broadcast.
He was accused of being a member of the opposition Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI), and also a CIA lackey when he established the Indonesian Humor Institution with observer Arwah Setiawan, who then worked at the United States Embassy.
He also received harassing phone calls from people who said they were Muslim hardliners and objected to his presence on TV.
After leaving TVRI, he spent a decade as a popular announcer on Radio Kayu Manis.
In 1990, newly established private TV station RCTI invited him to host the quiz show Berseri Mengukir Prestasi (Beaming with Achievement), a popular show which drew many advertisers.
But that very success upset Kris when segments of the show -- telling of the lives of Indonesians around the country -- had to be cut to accommodate the ads. He left after five years.
TVRI, the station which had fired him all those years ago, later invited him back, asking Kris to host the variety show Dansa Yo Dansa (Dance, Let's Dance) in the late 1990s. It is still going, despite criticism at one point that its ballroom dancing was too provocative.
Kris said he was content with his life today, living with his wife and his two grown-up sons residing in houses near them.
Proud of his marriage of 38 years, he is disgusted by the penchant of local celebrities to opt for divorce when the going gets tough in their marriages.
But he does not want to sound cynical or bitter, and also hopes that no local entertainers will have to tread his difficult path to success. Still, he is also quick to acknowledge that those troubles helped make him who he is today, and kept his spirit going.