Unmasking the traditions of 'Topeng Cirebon'

Text and photos by Helly Minarti

YOGYAKARTA (JP): She kicks her skinny leg with fierce power and hurls her red-chiffon shawl (selendang) to rip the air. She waves her arms alternately, staccato-style, in amazingly brisk movements. Her head shakes furiously and then comes to a sudden and precise stop.

The audience, mostly international tourists, gasped in awe. A handful of reporters came closer to follow her movements with their clicking cameras and flashing lights. And the surprises were not over yet. She then bent her knee down in preparation to perform the classic galeong -- the trademark of her dancing style -- by rotating her upper body back almost 360 degrees.

Bear in mind that Sawitri, the Cirebon masked dancer from Losari, a regency on the border of east and west Java, is 70 years old.

Sawitri, or Mak (Grandma) Sawitri as she is affectionately called by her students, has been dancing since she was nine years old. She is the sixth generation descendant of Dato Kunten, the patriarch of Losari, which is the home to one of the most famous traditions of Cirebon's masked dance. She learned the dance directly from her father Sumitra.

On last Sunday's clear night she didn't perform at a modest local feast in her village, nor at a grand hall as she has several times since the world began to recognize her talent and the dance.

The venue was the Javanese style restaurant in Jogja Village Inn, a cozy, artistic small hotel on Yogyakarta's outskirts.

With tickets costing Rp 15,000, a high price for the small town, only 51 people came to this rare performance of mask theater. The dance mistress was accompanied by her unique trio of dancers -- her grandaughter Taningsih, Monica Wulff, a German- Australian, and Didik Nini Thowok, a popular dancer who gained fame through his own choreographed comedy dances.

"This is a spontaneous cooperation between my recently established foundation, Yayasan Didik Nini Thowok, and the inn to support the traditional dance," Didik said.

The masked dance of Cirebon has many distinct styles, distinguished by movements and accompanying music, and named after the villages where they originated. The Losari style is one of the most significant since it developed unique choreography from the Selangit, Ciwulung or Gegesik versions. Most of the dances are based on the Ramayana or Mahabharata epics, with the adventures of Prince Panji, a knight, among the most popular sources of material.

In the past there were numerous styles. Now, due to inevitable modernization, they have declined and only a few dances remain. The performance presented three examples of the Losari and one of Ciwulung, plus an entertaining new dance by Didik Nini Thowok.

The repertoire

Monica Wulff, who has studied the masked dance on and off during her frequent visits to Indonesia since 1992, opened the performance with the Losari Pamindo, representing Panji. Wearing a white mask -- a symbol of purity -- her feet glided gently on the floor while her body, hands and fingers vibrated with equal tenderness.

Taningsih danced the second part, Tumenggung. The character symbolizes the powerful ruler. Wearing a white mask, she moved briskly and powerfully. The typical head movement accentuates the aura of Tumenggung (Regent) Magangdiraja. The white mask is sometimes interpreted as a symbol of Western colonial power from the 18th century to the 20th. In this version, Tumenggung's white mask symbolizes the political authority invested in regents by the colonists.

Didik Nini Thowok then presented the only non-Losari mask dance, Rumyang. Didik, who studied the dance directly with the renowned Madame Sudji, showed the exquisite movements from his long training in various dances. Rumyang represents another knight with more refined, almost effeminate traits. At a glance, his movements behind his blue mask were delicate and simpler than previous pieces.

"I can't say that a certain style is easier than others because every style has its own uniqueness," Didik said. "Ciluwung or Palimanan is so rich with small details and they're not so easy."

Didik's basic dance background is in Sundanese, Javanese and Bali dances, but he deliberately tries to expose himself to other traditional works. And he is now expanding his scope by learning the Losari style from its principal exponent, Sawitri.

Sawitri finally got her turn to show her legendary experience and the self-journey from what her ancestors left to her. As always, she began her dance with a short prayer. "I pray to the Almighty and also ask for blessings from my karuhun (ancestors)," she said.

Klana or Kelana Banopati, the masked character she portrayed, represents the Rahwana, the notorious giant in the Ramayana epic.

All eyes were on Sawitri in her deep red mask. Her seemingly fragile thigh barely quivered as she lifted one of her legs and held it for a few moments. She also easily moved from swinging her legs wildly in the air to returning them still to the floor. Her sinewy arms moved up and down at blink-like speed in time to the gamelan music.

Didik Nini Thowok closed the night with an encore performance of own creation, a comedy dance using a mask, entitled Topeng Walang Kekek. Didik wore a shocking pink kebaya paired with a silvery-blue long skirt and the Javanese hairbun. He topped it off with an outrageous pair of yellow plastic glasses that would have made Elton John proud.

The dance was a humorous portrayal of the passage of youth and old age in a woman's life. As the young woman, Didik coquettishly stretched long feminine fingers, moved his arms energetically and threw soulful looks with his heavily made-up eyes. He occasionally made a deliberately awkward or comic movement to upset the elegance of the austere classical routine. He followed his dynamic and skillful Jaipongan turn with moonwalking made famous by Michael Jackson.

The audience was particularly amused when he changed the sleek black hairbun for a gray one for the old woman role, contrasting her zest for life with her body's inability to keep apace.

Last Sunday's performance was followed by a mini workshop in which the audience could ask questions. The interesting queries, several audience members put through simple dance paces by the dancers and a friendly photo session ended the evening nicely. It was a serious discussion of a dying part of the Cirebon masked dance but in an amusing and relaxed manner. It had depth but was not too heavy to cast a shadow over the evening.