Monday, August 23, 2010

Nomad in Jogjakarta

A Nomad has arrived in Jogjakarta, Java, Indonesia. The port city of Jogjakarta is one of Indonesia's foremost cultural centers located in the south of its' most populated island. Early morning 4 o'clock a Nomad wakes up in Legian/Kuta to take the first plane out of Bali. Taking off 6 o'clock and arriving about the same time in Jogjakarta on Java. Once again a Nomad has traveled back in time.

Although Java is a pre-dominantly Muslim island, much of the arts of the old Javanese culture are in fact rooted in it's Hindu traditions. The 'Dalang', master puppet player at the Jogja(Sonobudoyo) museum, is adamant muslim Javanese are quite aware that their Hindu heritage is an integral part of their identity. "These arts and traditions were here long before we became muslim.", he says. He also ensures me the nightly 'Wayang Kulit' shows are not performed for the sole benefit of tourists and is in fact still quite popular with the natives. The fact that he will be the last in a long line of Dalang as his children have decided upon different careers does however indicate times are changing.

Fortunately for the old arts, ever since the Sukarno government started solidifying a strong national consciousness in the 50's, all indigenous culture, especially the Javanese Hindu one, was heavily promoted. Jogjakarta's cultural manifestations also enjoyed support from Indonesia's second president: Suharto. A Jogjakarta area native Suharto, Indonesia longest ruling president, was often called the great puppeteer of Indonesia himself.

Jogjakarta is also the only place in the entire nation where the old nobility retained a certain degree of political and governing power. Having been consistent in opposing both Dutch and Japanese colonials the Sultan of Jogjakarta had earned great respect among the republican revolutionaries. The Jogjakarta sultanate might be considered the closest thing to an authentic Indonesian Royal family. Another reason Jogjakarta remained at the center of Javanese cultural manifestation as much of its high culture had been developed and performed at the courts.

***

Batik time

Strolling into town along the busy Marlioboro main street, which runs down from the railway station to the city's center at the Kraton (Royal Palace) I catch glimpses of old colonial architecture before I take a turn right to explore a Batik work shops and galleries. A common ploy to lure visitors to Batik shops along M.street is to tell them they are extremely lucky to find this is the last day of a national Batik artist exhibition in town. This will then take them to the shops. Which isn't too bad if you want to see some good Jogja batik like me.

I arrive at a (work)shop where I am explained the process of the Batik art and able to look at a wide range of pieces. My eye soon catches an artist with an explosive and detailed abstract style and after due deliberation and taking care in choosing the finest pieces I decide to start the bargaining game. The prices are quite steep with 'fixed' prices for medium size pieces starting at 750.000 rupiah. As both domestic and foreign tourists tend to buy at top prices regularly it's hard to get prices down, but I manage to get 3 beautiful pieces for 500.000 each. I am sure on a better day I could have done better, but I am very happy with my purchases.

The red piece.

With regret I find myself unable to afford a fourth piece, a 2 by 1 meter big red piece of the same well known Batik artist. The start price was 3.5 million and the shop wont go lower than 2 million, while I had decided that 1 million was my best price for this remarkable piece. Soon after leaving the shop with my newly bought Batik paintings, a young kid comes out of nowhere. I had noticed him in the shop earlier where he was paying close attention to the bargaining. He tells me he is the son of the painter and his father is in need of money and willing to sell the piece directly to me without involving the shop. Scam or no scam, the beautiful red piece flashes before my eyes. I am such a sucker for expresive colours...
So scam or no scam, even without the assertive son of a hospitalised ill painter in need of cash, I am willing to buy the red piece at my bottom price. The young man tries to get 1.5, but I stick to my price. An hour later my beloved big red batik piece is brought to my hotel and is finally in my possession. For a moment I can't decide to admire or abhore the Javanese talent for elaborate scheming. Or perhaps just consider myself lucky that the painters son was in attendance and offered me this opportunity. In any case it was an interesting experience and one thing is for certain the big red piece sure is beautiful.

No comments:

Post a Comment