`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.