East Java Tourism News

Indigenous textiles reveal united colors of Indonesia

May 10th, 2007

Duncan Graham, Contributor, Malang, E. Java

The range is vast, the designs are intriguing and enigmatic, deceptively plain and cunningly complex, mysterious and multicolored; some are smoldering, earthy and raw, others are jolly, bright and glossy, enhanced by threads of gold and silver.

Just like Indonesia.

The symbols of other countries tend to be landmarks, like the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty and the Sydney Opera House. Others are not human constructions — Canada has the maple leaf and Lebanon the green cedar. But only Indonesia has ikat.

This is the textile made from pre-dyed threads woven to ancient patterns remembered and passed down through the generations. Like Scottish tartans, each one belongs to a specific community.

That exclusivity is waning, however, for the Koreans, Japanese and Chinese are already producing cloth using precious Indonesian motifs that no one in the republic has bothered to copyright or trademark.

So consumers beware, as you might think you’re buying handmade crafts from a hillside hamlet in the hinterlands of Java, where gnarled fingers lovingly teased thread into loom. But the chances are growing that your purchase came from a computer-controlled production line mill in smog-filled Shanghai.

Along with the characters of the wayang kulit puppets, probably no other symbols or patterns could be said to so clearly belong to the archipelago as the designs of Indonesian textiles.

Weaving is believed to have originated in Egypt, and the technique moved to India and China through ancient trade. It probably arrived here from Vietnam about 3,000 years ago, along with the secrets of wet-rice cultivation.

At first, the products were crude — necessarily so, because the materials used were bark and fronds. When cotton became commonplace, the techniques could be refined.

Then ikat — and to a lesser extent, batik — spread. Today, at least 6,000 distinctively different designs exist across the 17,000 islands of the archipelago, ranging from the abstract to the realistic, and no single person would know them all.

However, art and design lecturer Arma Subijanto from Jakarta’s Trisakti University proved herself adept at identifying most of them when challenged by The Jakarta Post.

Confronted with a sea of sarongs, shawls and accessories draped on tables and sideboards in an exhibition at Malang’s Tugu Hotel, Arma was able to accurately pick the provenance of almost all designs — without peeking at the labels.

“I feel passionately about ikat and the designs that we’ve developed over the centuries,” she said. “In the pre-Islamic era when animism was common, women used to pray to the gods as they made the cloth. So they saw the inspiration for the designs as sacred.

“This is our heritage, our culture, our contact with our ancestors. Ikat unifies the nation. But sadly, it’s seen by many as old-fashioned.”

Textile designs and motifs go beyond the conventional and the commercial, and even wearing them carries a function beyond fashion and the practicality of clothing.

“The history of many textiles and designs are related to royalty so could only be worn at special events or by particular people, like pregnant women. Even today, batik tends to be reserved for formal occasions, though former president Soeharto made it mandatory for public servants to wear batik on Fridays,” said Arma.

“That may have helped the clothing industry, but it was just a gesture. It did nothing to help understand the culture. The challenge is to make it relevant to the present,” she stressed.

How anyone could think traditional Javanese costumes as frumpy is beyond this furtive fashion observer. Because sarongs haven’t been cut to fit, they tend to emphasize the bottom, an effect enhanced by high heels.

They also hobble the wearer, making steps shorter and movements more pronounced and provocative. No need to look at slinky Western gear among which brevity rules — Javanese costumes hide almost everything, but they reveal much more to the imagination.

Even if you’re not prepared to wear Indonesian textiles they make brilliant wall hangings, bed- and cushion covers, tablecloths and curtains.

By Western standards, the cost of handmade products is low. Even in up-market shops outside Jakarta, a splendid sarong can still be bought for less than Rp 180,000 (US$20) — which means that the lady at the loom would probably get only a quarter of that amount. Machine-made textiles can be bought for even less.

As she opened and folded some lovely linens, Arma identified flawed labels. A textile from Lombok may have been bought there, but the design was from much further east on the island of Timor.

She can also tell in a flash whether the dyes used are natural and made from plants and earths, or chemicals. (Hint: Natural dyes tend to have a matt finish.)

Arma said factories in industrial towns like Gresik, East Java, are making textiles using motifs from Sumbawa, then being sent to West Java for sale.

Patterns that appear to be abstract and minimalist are often symbols of people and natural objects that — like Chinese calligraphy — have been reduced to an outline. Other designs from East Nusa Tenggara are more naturalistic, showing deer and horses.

A few have lettering, a style introduced during the Dutch era. Chinese and Indian influences can also be found in ikat from Sumatra. Designs from the Toraja in Sulawesi show their distinctive high-roofed houses. Only in Flores is the designer also the weaver; in other regions the tasks are separate.

One way to preserve the designs and textiles is to use them in modern clothes, and not confine them to sarongs and kebaya (traditional blouses) only to be worn at weddings.

This is already being undertaken by Malang’s Rien Bambang Guritno, a textile collector who promotes Indonesian designs through displays like the one at the Tugu Hotel.

Rien has taken ancient patterns and placed on casual clothing as well as semi-formal outfits that any woman would be happy to wear in public.

“So many people are trying to forget the past,” Rien said. “We have a culturally rich country. Our crafts unite us. We should be teaching these to our children during their school holidays…

“There’s a view that Indonesian textiles are heavy, hot and difficult to maintain. That’s not true. Many are lightweight,” she added.

Clearly, Rien is concerned about raising the profile of the country’s textiles — but ironically, the effort must be based at home.

“Malang is known as an educational town,” she said, referring to the more than 30 universities it has. “I also want it to be internationally recognized as a city of culture… I’ve found in my travels abroad that there’s more interest in Indonesian textiles overseas than in this country.”

Her friend Sri Sapti, a Jakarta-based interior designer who has spent many years in Europe, agreed — but interest doesn’t necessarily breed coverage.

“There are books about ikat, but they’re not easy to find,” Sri said. One of the sources she carries is an out-of-print text in English, more than 20 years old.

“The message we want to put overseas is that Indonesia is much more than Bali.”

Weaving through the archipelago

Ikat has many meanings, including influence, association and bonding. Here, it’s the term for textiles woven from pre-dyed threads.

But ikat is by no means the only form of textile produced in Indonesia.

Double ikat has the threads dyed on both the warp (the vertical threads on the loom) and the weft (the shorter, horizontal threads that cross the warp).

Batik uses the resist-dye technique, and is created by applying lines of molten wax to cloth. The wax cools and resists the dyes into which the entire cloth is dipped, with successive applications of wax to preserve the desired colors. When the cloth is dried after the final dye, the wax is boiled off to reveal the dyed patterns beneath.

Songket are woven with the inclusion of silver and gold threads. Originally reserved for royalty, these textiles are now popular in Bali.

For an overview of the archipelago’s textiles from your armchair, The National Gallery of Australia claims to have one of the “richest public collections of Indonesian textiles in the world”, with more than 1,200 pieces. Many examples are available to view on the Internet at www.nga.gov.au.

Jakarta Post

Entry Filed under: East Java News