Indonesians attach sentimental value to books

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."