`Pakarena' brings Makassar culture to life

`Pakarena' brings Makassar culture to life

Abdul Khalik, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta

It began with the wail of pui-pui, a small clarinet, that broke
the silence with a delightful trill. The intense beat of the
gandrang, a two-sided traditional drum, followed, producing a
subdued and yet engaging rhythm. Almost instantly, the katto-
katto, a small bamboo rod with a stick, and a gong teamed up to
form an irresistibly moving composition.

The composition rose and fell like the sea in the midst of a
storm, sweeping up the listeners in the restless tension of the
moment. The waves and wind of this storm radiated the spirit and
enthusiasm for a long journey.

The face of Daeng Mille, who played the gandrang,
entranced the crowd while his busy hands continued to thump out
the rhythm. His sharp eyes were filled with joy and beaming with
pleasure. Teaming up with Mille, the four other players behind
him, all dressed in red traditional dress and sarongs, formed a
small and close circle in the center of the stage.

After the first few minutes, six dancers, all women, came onto
the stage, three from either side. Each was dressed in a bright
yellow bajubodo, a transparent silk blouse with a red stole over
the shoulders, and a red and black checkered sarong. They also
wore long necklaces and earrings, wide bracelets and a crown-like
headdress. These gold accessories brightened their calm faces.

The dancers, who carried fans, continued their measured
movements in stark contrast to the rapid rhythm of the
traditional instruments. This tension between the deliberately
paced movements of the dancers and the insistent intensity of the
music continued throughout the dance.

The dancers seemed to be trying to ignore the seductive
rhythm, countering it with calm.

Meanwhile, Daeng Saleh, with his long headdress trailing
behind him, kept on playing his pui-pui in a continuously high
pitch, signaling the other instruments to follow the beat. The
gong player, Muchsin, and the katto-katto player, Achmad, gave
harmony to the composition, as if they were enticing the dancers
to follow the rhythm. The six women moved to the rhythm, but at
their own pace. The contrast between the pace of the music and
the dance created a sublime beauty.

After several more minutes, the dancers slowly walked off the
stage the same way they had walked on. The five men kept on
playing without the dancers for a moment, then ended the
performance abruptly.

Hoping to see more dynamic movement from the dancers, the
crowd at Plaza Senayan, Central Jakarta, that Saturday night
waited a few seconds before clapping, not realizing that the show
was over. Finally, they clapped hesitantly after the anticlimax.

"That's it? How could the music be so fast and loud while the
dancers hardly moved?" said a voice in the crowd incredulously.

"It must be hard for the dancers to concentrate on their own
speed and beat with such a compelling rhythm," said another
viewer while shaking his head.

That was in fact the whole point. The contrast shows the
differences in the characteristics and roles of men and women in
ethnic Makassar. The bold and dynamic music reflects the
masculine energy. The men in Makassar are supposed to play an
active role and to be in the forefront in society. They also have
to face challenges bravely.

Meanwhile, the measured movements of the women capture the
qualities expected of women in Makassar -- patience and
determination in resisting temptations in life; supporting their
menfolk from behind.

These seemingly contrasting characteristics, are aimed at
producing a synergy in the family as well as in the community,
resulting in happiness. This view of life is reflected in many
aspects of Makassarese society.

"The difference between the two is deemed necessary because
they accomplish their own tasks," said Halilintar Latief, the
leader of the Makassar-based pakarena group in Jakarta recently.

The dance itself, according to Latief, originated in the pre-
Islamic era. At that time, it was called serejaga a ceremonial
dance. Usually, it was performed after harvest time to celebrate
the achievement of the season.

When Islam came to South Sulawesi, the dance experienced some
adjustments. It became the dance of the royal family and ordinary
members of society were prohibited from performing the dance.

Since the decline of the kingdom in Makassar in the 1950s,
ordinary people have been allowed to perform the dance openly
again, especially in the villages. Today, there are about 100
pakarena groups in South Sulawesi. But only seven of them have a
complete number of performers, including musicians and dancers.

"Most of the groups have difficulty in finding dancers as more
and more women are interested in other fields, but they have
enough musicians so far," said Latief.

In addition, dangdut music has sidelined pakarena as the main
performance in many events such as khitanan, a circumcision
ceremony, and at wedding parties.

"More and more people, especially the young generation, have
become attracted to the wild movements of dangdut dancing. We get
fewer invitations to perform at parties or ceremonies," said
Latief, adding that the continued existence of the dance depended
on invitations from the public.

If this trend continues it may be bad news for Indonesian
culture in general because such an elegant and highly
philosophical dance might not be seen in the near future, even in
South Sulawesi. Traditions will perish eventually if society
stops supporting them. An event such as the recent "Celebrating
Indonesia" in Plaza Senayan is very useful in preserving and
exposing traditional art forms for a wider public.