Features - May 03, 2006
Emanuel Dapa Loka, Contributor, Bekasi
Something disturbs Hendrik Pali when it comes to the culture of his ancestral land, Sumba, East Nusa Tenggara province.
He has witnessed with his own eyes how the place receives inadequate attention from society in general, the government and the church.
"Owing to extreme poverty, Sumba people choose to gather grass for their horses or to take care of their plantations instead of participating in dancing exercises, for instance," said Hendrik.
The simple logic is that first the stomach has to be satisfied before esthetic matters can be appreciated.
Hendrik compared the situation with his experience when he was a member of the dance troupe of (the late) Bagong Kussudiardjo in Yogyakarta.
There he noticed professional values at work. "Instructors were given a cash reward and trainees had to pay monthly contributions. That reflected public awareness and support," recalled Hendrik, 59, owner of the Ori Angu (Embracing Friends) dance studio he set up in 1980.
It is impossible for his group, with school dropouts as members, to imitate the sophistication of Bagong's management. Consequently, his 30 or so students train in traditional dance and new works free of charge.
Originally concentrating on dancing, his studio later expanded its activities to cover weaving for the supply of dance costumes and scarves.
With his studio already established for 25 years, Hendrik continues to be a lone fighter working without adequate aid. Despite his enormous spirit, bright ideas and lavish energy devoted to the preservation of local culture, he sometimes feels helpless in the absence of financial support.
"Fortunately, some tourists often visit us to help our survival. Once we were almost forced to close down," he said, seriously.
Just as he was about to give up, Hendrik related, the words struck him: "If you close your studio, who else is willing to care about this culture?"
As though in the middle of a dialog, he said to himself, "You're right! Culture is a nation's mirror image, without which it would be uncivilized. Isn't it we ourselves that must do something about it?"
Apart from that, Hendrik has maintained his group because dancing has been a long-time hobby.
Born and brought up in East Sumba with its observance of custom rituals, he has been familiar with dance since childhood. His six children share his talent without the benefit of special training.
"They are instinctively capable of dancing," noted the former primary school teacher now promoted as school supervisor.
In his observation, the government has, for a long time, paid almost no heed to Sumba's art and culture, now left to grow like paddy surviving amid weeds.
The government, he says, should support troupes such as Ori Angu, which is only proper because the local administration has always sought his help when it holds ceremonies with regional dances and songs.
East Sumba has various dances, five of which form the basic part of the local performing art: kabokang, kadingang, haramu, wulumanu and putiliku. From these standard dances, new choreographed works have been created for particular purposes such as welcoming guests, making offerings or conducting religious worship, processions and harvest festivals.
However, his preparedness to fulfill such requests requires sacrifices. With his team and dance equipment sent to celebrate official events, he has frequently received only words of gratitude.
"The authorities should provide aid for our costumes and musical instruments. They don't appreciate our needs yet," he added.
The same is true of the church, which gives less thought to how the traditional art can be preserved, while in fact such dances have become its basic requirement. The church has determined to use local art as a means of religious propagation.
Sadly, no aid and other attention have been given for the continued existence of the performances, which are also performed by teenagers in some families.
In consolation, the government has devoted some attention by deciding to include regional dances and songs in the extracurricular programs of primary and upper school levels.
For weaving art, aid has also been made available to weaving groups at low rates of interest.
Meanwhile, better communications and transportation facilities have made the 11,845-square-kilometer island's culture more accessible to outsiders.
Sumba is also identical with its beautiful woven textiles. These handicrafts incorporate unique processes that involve motif design, choice of color, fabric treatment for storage and washing, as well as marketing.
For the nobility, the fabrics have crocodile and turtle motifs to symbolize magnificence, influence and grandeur, which has been preserved by convention.
With increasing demand, though, many craftsmen try to cut corners by mixing colors with chemicals, which can lower product quality and uniqueness.
"If only they used traditional materials derived from plant roots; the quality of woven Sumba fabric would be maintained," Hendrik concluded in a tone of concern.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment