Indonesians attach sentimental value to books
By Dini S. Djalal
JAKARTA (JP): You can't go forward without looking at the past. Know your history in order to know yourself.
Lofty words, perhaps, worthy of a New Age guru. But as Indonesia races towards affluent modernity, and stumbles in its own reckless pace, reflection becomes ever more urgent.
Why? Because welcoming the new often does away with the old. Every day, buildings are torn down, heirlooms sold to overseas antique dealers, archaic habits jeered at by the young.
Vehemently protect ancient customs, however, and risk inertia. From every glass tower bellow the cries of the pop culture pundit: Change is inevitable! Move on!
But move so quickly that what you see in the mirror is but a blur of hurried bustle? Indonesia is changing, but does it know what it's becoming? Does it know what it was before?
"Finding out about what I came from," answered Tara Sosrowardoyo when asked about the rewards of three years photographing Java Style, a brilliant tome of Java's diverse architectural and interior arts.
"It was a roots trip for me," said Tara, whose work has been featured in Time, Vogue, and coffee-table books like Pusaka Art of Indonesia. "It was like going home again and again, discovering not only the physical elements of Indonesia, but its history and culture," he said.
Tara is among a growing number of Indonesians, at least in the arts community, working to make people aware of traditions threatened by modernization. By documenting these traditions, Java Style shows people of what was, and what could still be.
Sharing his view is Hermawan Tanzil, head of graphic design house LeBoYe. The award-winning team recently launched a calender and accompanying exhibit of vintage Indonesian advertising called Boetan Indonesia Asli (Made in Indonesia).
"It's important to let kids know of our heritage. If nobody preserves it, it will just be tossed away," said Hermawan.
Hot currency
Not that commercial forces don't play a role. Tara admits that nostalgia is now hot currency.
"We're exploiting the momentum. There's now an inward sense of interest," said Tara, referring to the current trend of buying antique furniture and interior decorations.
The trend is good for everyone, said Tara. Overseas antique dealers have depleted the country of authentic pieces, so, "we're left with copies", said Tara. Having the rich accumulate local antique furniture, "lets the pieces stay in the country".
Yet when asked what "Java style" is, Tara sighed, "it doesn't exist".
What it is, Tara explained, "is a state of mind". Indeed, Java Style is divided into five parts -- befitting the Javanese fashion of navigating with cardinal direction; north, south, west, east, and center -- entitled Orientation, The Great Tradition, Tempo Doeloe (The Past), Modernisms, and Contemporary Homes.
The introduction establishes the setting, the environmental elements and political events around which the styles evolved. In the next two chapters, astute cultural commentator Peter Schoppert accounts in painstaking detail, and in elegant prose, the architectural styles from the 14th century to the 19th century.
The last two chapters document 20th-century developments, particularly the strong and persistent influence of Art Deco. They also showcase some of the most proudly ethnic, and stylish, houses in the country. Marvel at the majestic hillside palace of architect Jaya Ibrahim, the chandeliered decadence of the homes of batik artists Iwan Tirta and Ardianto Pranata, and the rustic comforts of Bambang Supriyadi's house.
What the houses and diverse chapters reveal about Java is not a comprehensive style, but its openness in taking, borrowing, and inheriting from settling European and Asian civilizations, "what it has needed or desired". So Java chooses its influences, yet remaining "utterly Java". Said Indian philosopher Rabindranath Tagore: "I see India everywhere but I do not recognize it."
The text intentionally doesn't try to define Java style. "If you talk about architectural style, there's such a gamut," said Tara. And style often means fashion; what's now trendy may be passed off as style, even if it's hundreds of years old. "Now, the trend is for village, almost primitive furniture. It's new to us right now, but it's actually not new at all," said Tara.
Colonial psyche
Equally familiar, but now enjoying a surprising prestige among Jakarta's middle class, are the images on display in LeBoYe's calender and its exhibit, on at TC Gallery in Kemang, South Jakarta, until Nov. 30. Collected from a variety of advertising campaigns dating from the 19th century up to the post- revolutionary 1950s, the exhibit is a telling probe into the aesthetic and political psyche of a bygone era, and its formidable accomplishments.
Often bold, always striking, and painted in stark silhouettes and vivid hues, the ads show an Indonesia proud of its heritage -- women are dressed in kebaya (tradition dress), children playing simple folk games.
Of course, colonialism's imprint peers through the pages. The calender's cover shows a dark-skinned haj smiling happily like the jolly subservient natives Westerners regarded them to be. A tourist promotion poster paints a topless Balinese woman -- a reality at the time, but nevertheless feeding stereotypes of an archipelago overrun by Gauguin beauties.
Elsewhere, messages of Caucasian superiority are subtler. A biscuit ad shows a Javanese beauty in splendid traditional costume -- except she's very light-skinned and boasts Eurasian features. The aspirational mood aims beyond the Dutch ruling class. A cigarette brand is called Prijaji (priyayi, Javanese for aristocrat), its symbol a lord in grand ceremonial attire. But underneath is the word sigaret (cigarette), perhaps so the affluent smoking these cigarettes may feel amply Western.
Yet the more indelible ads use folk imagery, such as wayang hero Semar for a candy ad, sarong-clad men for an aspirin ad.
Such images are unabashedly humble, not at all like the glitzy paeans of today's commercials. Why would the rich, and the poor who aspire to be rich, buy these images now?
Hermawan says he is proud of the images, and feels others are in agreement. Proof of pride? LeBoYe's first calender, published last year, sold 3,500 copies, "most of which were bought by Indonesians, not foreigners".
"Foreigners buy the book for its aesthetics, but Indonesians attach a sentimental value to the pictures," Hermawan explained. The sentimentality shows increasing reflection of what Indonesians can learn from the past. The pictures in LeBoYe's books depict a less sophisticated and opulent time but provide a window to a society with a stronger sense of self.
Trendy nostalgia may help return the self-awareness and confidence. Said Hermawan: "The more people understand their own culture, the more they appreciate what they have."