Independence spirit lives on in Kris Biantoro

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.