As a physical object the gender is characterised
by its slender bronze keys suspended over pitched resonators - these
make the sound smooth and long-lasting. It is played with two soft-padded
disc-shaped mallets, one for each hand. By supple movements of the
wrists, each hand must simultaneously hit a note and damp the preceding
one.
The gender family comprises three instruments:
the gender proper, or gender
barung, covering over two octaves; the gender
panerus, covering the same span in a higher pitch range; the slenthem or gender panembung, a one-octave
instrument in the lowest pitch range, played with one mallet only
and employed in a musical role of its own (it plays the balungan or skeleton melody).
The musical content of the present CD was
designed having in mind two important aspects of the gamelan music
of Central Java: the “expression of feelings” and the “way to meditation”.
So stated, the intent does not seem too complicated from our Western
point of view. We understand and use these terms rather easily -
possibly too easily. But, from the Javanese point of view, the context
and the background are much deeper and far-reaching. We need here
to bring-up and get closer to some notions that are fundamental
to Javanese philosophy, religion, and aesthetics. Sounds quite engaging
- and so it is. But let us try to report essential statements from
people that have investigated these subjects. And if not enough
clarifying, these notes could be a stimulus for further search on
the part of the interested reader/listener.
Rasa
and the inner world
Gamelan instruments, compositions, and music
theory have all been implicated in mystical beliefs linked to Tantrism
and Sufism. Certain pieces are believed to be spiritually powerful
- even dangerous. Gamelan performances are at times used for meditation.
Playing - or listening to - a gamelan is a spiritual discipline, not
just mere amusement. There is much behind the Central Javanese theory
and practice of traditional music. We need to add that, unfortunately,
times are achanging there too.
The original religion of Java was animistic.
Then the long Hindu-Buddhist period influenced the island from the
second century down to the fifteenth century, when Islam gradually
was introduced, cohabiting with the preceding spiritual worlds.
For the Javanese still influenced by the Hindu-Buddhist world, subjective
experience presents a microcosm of the universe. The anthropologist
Clifford Geertz (“The Interpretation of Cultures - Selected Essays”,
Basic Books, New York 1973) provides the following considerations.
In the depths of the interior fluid world
of thought-and-emotion, they [the Javanese] see reflected ultimate
reality itself. This inward-looking type of worldview is best expressed
in a concept the Javanese have borrowed from India and peculiarly
reinterpreted: rasa.
Rasa has two primary meanings: “feeling”
and “meaning”. As “feeling” it is one of the traditional Javanese
five senses - seeing, hearing, talking, smelling, and feeling. But
feeling includes within itself three aspects of “feeling” that our
view of the five senses separates: taste on the tongue, touch on
the body, and emotion within the hearth.
As
“meaning” rasa is applied to the words in a letter, in a poem, or
even in common speech to indicate the between-the-lines type of
indirection and allusive suggestion that is so important in Javanese
communication and social intercourse.
Rasa is the same as life for the Javanese;
whatever lives has rasa and whatever has rasa lives.
By taking rasa to mean both “feeling” and
“meaning”, the more speculatively inclined among the Javanese have
been able to develop a highly sophisticated phenomenological analysis
of subjective experience to which everything else can be tied. Because
fundamentally “feeling” and “meaning” are one, the ultimate religious
experience taken subjectively is also the ultimate religious truth
taken objectively - and empirical inward perception yields a metaphysical
outward reality. In this context, the characteristic way in which
human action comes to be considered, from either a moral or an aesthetic
point of view, is in terms of the emotional life of the individual
who experiences it. The more refined one’s feeling, then the more
profound one’s understanding, the more elevated one’s moral character,
and the more beautiful one’s external aspect, in behaviour, speech,
and so on. The management of the individual’s emotions becomes,
therefore, his primary concern. Both religion and ethics, both mysticism
and politesse point to the same end: a detached tranquillity which
is proof against disturbance from either within or without. A tranquillity
that in India would be gained by a retreat from the world and from
society, but in Java must be achieved while in it.
Rasa is a key term for understanding the
particular emphasis on aesthetic appreciation and its meaning of
“sense perception” according to Tantric teachings. The refinement
of this perception can lead to a heightened state of consciousness
and a dissolving of the boundaries between oneself and the thing
perceived.
Judith Becker, renowned ethnomusicologist
at the University of Michigan, in “Gamelan Stories: Tantrism, Islam,
and Aesthetics in Central Java” (Arizona State Univ. Press, 1993),
brings also the Islamic component into the artistic-gnosiological-religious
picture. She writes as follows.
In Tantric thought and in Sufism religious
knowledge is to be gained through the careful and systematic development
of one’s spiritual faculties through meditation. The special Tantric
emphasis lies in the formulations that the spiritual quest is individual
and not congregational, meditative and not devotional, body-centered,
inward, and immanent, not transcendent.By now completely intertwined, Tantric and
Sufi mysticism are still a strong force in contemporary Javanese
society. Although persisting without a label, Tantric ideas continue
to inform not only kebatinan (mystical sect) practices, but
also their reflexes and reflections in the stories told about the
performing arts.
Judith Becker finds Tantric elements in
gamelan and gamelan music. And reporting from a 1984 work by Sastrapustaka
(“Knowledge of Gamelan Revealed”) she tells the esoteric meanings
of the tones of the gamelan, their connections with cakra,
the relevance of rasa. Also, from another work by Soerachman, she
reports, on one hand, a Tantric doctrine advocating the use of gamelan
music as a yantra for meditation and, on the other,
a Sufi interpretation of the “sound of the gamelan touching the
heart” in the context of sama,
which is the focused listening for the purpose of attaining fana,
or the experience of loss of self-hood in union with God.
Rasa
and the playing of gender
In the context of gamelan music, rasa refers
to the feelings of the playing musician(s) and to the communication
of the emotive qualities of the music to the listener. In a Javanese
gamelan performance - and of course this is also true in the case
of a classical performance in India, where the notion originated
- rasa is the element which cannot be defined, but which needs to
be present for the satisfying completion of the event.
Although rasa rests essentially with the
musical composition and the performer’s interpretation, this writer
cannot help thinking that certain instruments of the gamelan are
more “rasa-amenable” than others. The gender, the human voice, and
the rebab (the two-stringed bowed instrument of Arab origin) are particularly
“versed” in the expression of feelings. And when played solo, such
instruments are especially inducive of an intimate type of meditative
state. I should take here the opportunity to remark that this CD
is not meant to be “a CD for meditation”, but rather a selection
of examples of the more intimately reflective side of gamelan music.
Gender, voice, and rebab are all present
in this CD, but the gender has a predominant place. It is presented
both in solo and in small ensembles. The gender-solo pieces offer
an interesting two-way presentation - some are performed by a male
musician and others by a female musician.
The “gender” issue concerning gender playing has been the subject of
a PhD Dissertation (“Female-style
Genderan and the Aesthetics of Central
Javanese Wayang”, New York
University, 1998) by the ethnomusicologist Sarah Weiss (who is also
providing a critical analysis in this booklet). From that source we
shall draw some interesting observations and insights.
In
her field notes dated years earlier than the final dissertation,
Sarah Weiss writes:
"When Ibu Pringga plays the gender [....] she plays in what is known
as the female style or gaya perempuan.
This female style of gender
performance tends to be associated with the old and/or village style of wayang
performance. According to many Central Javanese musicians, the female style is different from what is commonly referred to as male
style, gaya laki-laki, or, usually, simply genderan
(that which is played on a gender). When I asked them to discuss the
distinction between the male and female styles of gender
performance, Central Javanese musicians often hypothesized that the differences stem from the simple fact
that women are women and men are men."
The traditional context in which the female
style can be best characterised is the shadow-puppet theatre (wayang kulit), particularly when the gender
provides a background music to the recitation of the master of the
show, the dhalang. In
this situation the gender plays a particular type of rather free
“continuum” known as grimingan. This is somewhat different from
pathetan, the highly expressive
solo “recitativo” connected with the large gamelan compositions.
And it is certainly different from the parts that the gender plays
within gamelan compositions. Writes Sarah Weiss:
"Grimingan is the music which conveys the
rasa of the words of the dhalang. In a sense grimingan is pure rasa, as yet unmitigated and
untainted by articulated rules or theory.
[....] Grimingan melodies exist in the mind of the performer.
[....] Nearly every
player I interviewed described grimingan as a process whereby the
gender player merely followed the feeling of the scene [of the wayang theatre]. In response to a question asking her what
she thought about when playing grimingan [the lady player] made the point that it sometimes
felt that her hands were finding what to play by themselves.
[....] Ibu Pringga described grimingan, functionally,
as simply the melodies played on the gender to accompany the dhalang
when he was speaking so that if he needed to sing he would not come in
on the wrong note."
This
last description has the flavour of an ironical understatement on
the part of Ibu Pringga, the lady player with a strong personality
and outstanding artistry whose grimingan piece is included in this
CD.
Male vs. female style of playing the gender
Now, it seems that male musicians are not
that good at playing grimingan, while they can certainly be quite
good at playing the gender in the context of gamelan compositions.
Weiss elaborates extensively on the dichotomy male-female in gender
playing, and it is unfortunate that we cannot report properly about
her analysis - which is musical, historical, and sociological. Let
us attempt to summarise schematically the two ways of playing the
gender - male and female - which, in this CD, can be heard in the
performances of, respectively, Bapak Djoko Raharjo and Ibu Pringga.
The male style of playing tends to be strong,
relatively orderly, somewhat edgy, using interruptions. Female style,
on the other hand, tends to be soft, apparently disorderly, fluid,
flowing continuously. Male playing is viewed as an urban or court
style; female playing is supposed to represent the village style.
Men play with the mind (akal), refer to some codification of musical
forms, may be seen as improvising within a mode (pathet). Women play with the spirit (jiva), their melodies and structures being determined by the performance
context and their personal style.
To
this two-way schematization derived from the work of Sarah Weiss,
this writer would add a further labelling suggested by the performances
included in this CD, and using two Western musical terms: toccata
and fantasia. The Oxford
Dictionary has the following definitions: toccata
“is a composition intended to exhibit the touch and technique of the
performer, and having the air of an improvisation” while fantasia “is a composition having the appearance of being extemporaneous;
a composition in a style in which form is subservient to fancy”. The
two terms seem to suit the perceivable musical result of the performances
by Bapak Raharjo and Ibu Pringga, respectively.
A critical review
by Sarah Weiss
Sarah
Weiss is Assistant Professor and Director of Gamelan Nyai Saraswati
at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. She has been living
and engaging in research in Java since 1990. She is currently finishing
a book on aesthetics and gender performance
in Central Java entitled “Listening to an earlier Java”.
The
gender is played in nearly
every musical grouping heard in Central Java. It is, however, rarely
used as a solo instrument, and that is one aspect that makes this
CD unique.
While
most gender players who perform today are male, the tradition of
playing the gender during wayang
performances is one that was once primarily the domain of female
musicians. Often the wife or close family member of the dhalang performed as his primary accompanist on the gender. Traditionally, a dhalang’s gender player was
his constant companion. Many dhalang today recount stories of their
dhalang fathers and grandfathers who traveled around Java with their
popular gender-playing wives or sisters often performing every night,
in urban and village settings, during festival months and the dry
season. These female players performed in a style that was felt
to capture the spirit and mood or rasa of a dhalang’s words.
It
is interesting that the style of gender performance now called the
female style is also called village style or old style. Indeed,
while many performers agree it used to be the case that all gender
players performed in what is today known as the female style, the
popularity of that style has declined in favor of what is now called
male style or city style which, as the name suggests, is performed
primarily by men and students trained in the court and conservatory
schools. As Javanese performance traditions gradually came to be
centered in the Javanese courts – and now the urban music conservatories
– the status of the village and older traditions began to diminish. Although some Javanese rulers once insisted
on having female gender players in their entourages, by the end
of the twentieth century many female gender players perform only
in the rural areas. In light of the decline of female performers
and female-style genderan it is ironic that many true aficionados
of wayang and gender performance still insist that it is only female
performers playing in the old or female style who can evoke the
true rasa of a wayang story in sound.
This
CD offers the listener the opportunity to hear two of the best gender
players, male or female, working in and around Surakarta today. Ibu
Pringga is one of the most respected female players still performing. She is often asked to play in the Kraton palace
and regularly performs with groups at the radio station in Surakarta
as well as with many dhalang. Bapak
Joko Raharjo is a dhalang himself and has worked with many gender players. He is well-respected as a gender
player originally learned to play the gender from some of his female
relatives. On this CD, Bapak Joko Raharjo and Ibu Pringga are each
heard performing the piece Jineman
Uler Kambang. Although they are in different scales, this pairing
allows the listener to hear the same piece played in both the male
and the female styles (tracks 6 pelog and 10 slendro, respectively). To help the listener discern the aesthetic
differences, Javanese ears hear the female style as being more continuous,
decorated, and flowing, while they hear the male style as being more
precise with respect to modal interpretation because they tend to
use fewer ornamental notes. There are more than a handful of pieces
in the Javanese repertory that can be played in either scale and in
several of the modes.
The
aesthetics of Javanese singing are distinguished not only by gender
but by also by affect – refined, flirtatious, sombre, contemplative,
etc. The listener can sample female and male versions of refined
singing on three tracks (3, 5, and 7).
Two types of traditional Javanese singing are heard here:
macapat (tracks 3 and
5) and bawa (track 7).
Macapat involves
the singing of poetry in literary verse either with or without musical
accompaniment. In this case, the listener has the opportunity to
hear the extraordinary solo voice of Nyi Cendaniraras sing two verses
of the poetic meter pangkur
in the mode of pelog nem. Usually sung by a male vocalist,
a bawa often introduces
a full-ensemble piece. In this case, the velvety solo sung by Bapak
Darsono begins a suite of selections in the slendro
scale.
On
this CD the listener will hear the gender played by itself and in
a small, specialized ensemble of instruments called gadhon. The term gadhon
comes from the Javanese verb ngado
that means to nibble or snack on prepared food – meat or vegetables
– without rice. The analogy compares the instruments that play the
basic melody in a large gamelan ensemble to rice, and those that play
the elaborating improvisatory parts – the instruments of the smaller
gadhon ensemble – to the spicy, sweet delicacies that one eats with
rice in Central Java.
The one traditional context in which the gender
is heard alone is in the performance of grimingan, the music that is used to accompany the dhalang or puppeteer
when there is no other music required during the eight hours of
the performance of a wayang
or shadow play. In this context the gender keeps the mood of the
moment in the ear and heart of the audience and helps the dhalang
maintain his sense of the flow of the story over the course of the
night. The example of grimingan presented here (track 8) is from the middle section of an
all-night wayang during
the build up to the second major battle of the evening, the flower
battle ( prang kembang). As in its usual performance
context this grimingan
flows into an ada-ada
which is used just prior to emotional, often angry or threatening,
conversations between warriors. The listener can hear Ibu Pringga
move from the more improvisational grimingan to the ada-ada as the tempo becomes more regular with clearly defined melodic
phrases.
On
this CD the gender is heard playing both unmetered pathetan or mood songs (track 1) - often
performed with several other instruments and a singer - and gendhing or pieces with fixed tempi and
gong structure (2, 4, 6, 9, and 10) in which the full gamelan ensemble
might be heard. The alternation between unmetered pathetan
or vocal works and metered gendhing
is usual when Javanese music is played in most performance contexts. Likewise an alternation between scales is usual.
Both of the Javanese scales, the five-tone slendro (tracks 4, 7, 8, 9, 10) and the seven-tone pelog (tracks 1, 2, 3, 5, 6), are heard
on this recording. Although it has seven tones, in practice pieces
in pelog rarely use more than five or six tones.
The four gendhing offered here reveal both the contemplative and playful sides
of the Javanese musical imagination.
Ketawang Pangkur Ngrenas
(track 2) is a deceptively simple yet extremely refined work, the
proper performance of which requires utmost concentration only attainable
by the most mature and thoughtful of musicians.
Gendhing Lalermenggeng (track 9) is a song
of remembrance and longing. In performance, the singer and rebab (two-stringed spiked fiddle) player
borrow notes from another scale (miring).
The sound of these alternative notes in the context of the slendro scale evokes an aural experience of loss and lamentation.
The harmoniousness of these dissonances highlights the poignancy
of the gradual acceptance of loss that is part of the human experience. Jineman
Uler Kambang is a playful song that describes the life of a
caterpillar while simultaneously giving advice to the human listener
(tracks 6 and 10). Ladrang
Gadhung Mlati has an interesting connection with the gender.
The piece is a sacred song for the principle court of Surakarta
and its coming to the court is intertwined with some of the oldest
Javanese traditions regarding the authenticity of the Central Javanese
courts as power centers.
The
piece was brought to the court by the gender player Nyai Jlamprang
who was a court musician
of the ruler, Paku Bawana. Although the story is told in several
versions in manuscripts from several different centuries, this retelling
captures most of the important aspects of the tale.
Nyai
Jlamprang had been struck down by the plague that was being spread
around Java by Nyai Lara Kidul, Goddess of the South Sea and eternal
consort of the rulers of all four of the courts of Central Java. Nyai Lara Kidul would habitually populate her
undersea realm with the souls of those who died during the plagues
she caused on land. On her arrival to the undersea palace, Nyai Jlamprang
insisted that she be returned to her home and to the Paku Bawana. Nyai Lara Kidul refused and, in an effort to
entice Nyai Jlamprang to enjoy her stay, offered to teach the young
gender player one of Nyai Lara Kidul’s
own gender pieces, Ladrang Gadhung
Mlati. Nyai Jlamprang dutifully learned the difficult piece, by
all accounts rather quickly, and insisted once again that she be returned
to the land of the Paku Bawana. Nyai
Lara Kidul tried several other lures but failed and in the end allowed
Nyai Jlamprang to return to her home. For the journey back, Nyai Jlamprang
was provided with turmeric and ginger roots as provisions.
As
her family was washing and preparing her body for burial, Nyai Jlamprang
suddenly returned to her corporeal existence. Her shocked family
rejoiced as her body shuddered and life returned. The provisions
provided by Nyai Lara Kidul miraculously turned to gold and silver
that Nyai Jlamprang gave to the Paku Bawana before she played for
him the new piece from Nyai Lara Kidul. To this day the performance
of Ladrang Gadhung Mlati
requires a raft of special offerings prior to its performance.
Many Javanese musicians decline to play the piece when asked,
citing its sacred nature and the possible dangerous ramifications
of playing the piece without proper ceremony. The importance of
the gender and female gender players in Central Javanese culture
is reflected in their centrality in a story that confirms the historical
legitimacy of the rulers of Central Java.
Track
1 -
2:46 -
Pathetan pelog lima Wantah. Gender Djoko Raharjo,
well-known dhalang,
narrator and puppeteer of traditional shadow-plays or wayang kulit.
Track
2 -
2:31 -
Ketawang Pangkur Ngrenas, pelog lima. Gender Djoko
Raharjo.
Track
3 -
1:55 -
Macapat Pangkur, pelog nem (one strophe). Pesindhen
(female vocalist) Nyi
Cendaniraras. The macapat
is a refined form of sung poetry, a whole world of human
and spiritual contents considered of the highest level of
artistic expression. Macapat
poems represent most Javanese literature written from the
fifteenth to the nineteenth
century. Subject matters
range from epic stories to religious teachings, to riddles,
magic spells, and love songs. Here we hear single strophes
of one of several existing
compositions, as a sort of intermission in the gender program.
A translation of the text of the strophe is as follows:
We set aside the needs of the self
For the pleasure
of educating children
Through good
songs,
Worded beautifully and with care,
So that they
will learn the high knowledge
Prevailing on
the island of Java
According to
the religion of the Kings.
Track
4 - 11:15 - Ladrang
Gadhung Mlati, slendro sanga. This sacred piece (the
mythical story is recounted in the review by Sarah Weiss)
is played
here in a rarefied ensemble
of only gender-type instruments, the ranges of
which are cast in several octaves (gender barung,
gender panerus,
gender panembung
or slenthem), and gong. The performers are faculty members
of the Surakarta Conservatory (STSI).
Track
5 -
1:57 -
Macapat Pangkur, pelog nem (one strophe). Nyi Cendaniraras.
Translation of the text of this second strophe in pangkur
meter is as follows:
It is written in the sacred text
So as to maintain
sincerity in learning or seeking;
Even old people
If they are
not aware of rasa
They will be
empty and tasteless as a chewed morsel,
And when in
social gathering
Their behaviour
and words will be shameful.
Track
6 -
3:08 -
Jineman Uler Kambang (the title literally means “the
floating caterpillar”),
pelog nem. Gender Djoko Raharjo.
Track
7 -
3:14 -
Bawa Puspanjana, slendro sanga. Male vocal Darsono,
gender Ibu Pringga.
The bawa is a composition for solo male voice, often used
as an introduction to
large gendhings. This poetic form has ancient origins (tembang gedé or, literally,
“large sung poems”) probably datable around the fifth century.
It was used to
communicate religious teachings and epics in Kawi, the ancestor
language of modern
Javanese. In present day bawa compositions, melodies and
texts have changed to
an indeterminable extent,
and the language has been up-dated to modern Javanese,
but mixed with a poetic language linked to old Javanese (which
rather explains the
difficulties of translations into another language). Anyway,
a translation of the text
of this rasa-filled bawa goes as follows:
O Lord, the object of my adoration is the most
precious of women
The sweetest
of flowers, the queen of the world;
Truly idolized,
she is an example
For all women as the Flower of Mankind.
Track
8 -
5:02 -
Grimingan and Ada-Ada, slendro sanga. Gender
Ibu Pringga. The player
is
one of the outstanding living musicians embodying the female style
of gender
playing. We were fortunate to be able to record her performance
and admire her
strong personality and vitality, which seem unaffected by
age. Grimingan is the
somewhat improvised, beautifully flowing, deeply felt music
already discussed
in the notes. Ada-Ada is a more structured type of music
for rather animated situations
in a wayang performance.
Track
9 - 10:31 - Gendhing
Lalermenggeng, slendro sanga. Gamelan gadhon (gender, rebab,
female vocalist, kenong, gong). Players are faculty members
of the Surakarta Conservatory
(STSI), with Nyi Cendaniraras pesindhen.
This gendhing is particularly revered by
the Javanese as a remembrance piece. It has a particular
characteristic in its
intonation: although it
is in the 5-tone slendro scale, it makes use of extra notes for
the pesindhen and the rebab (miring)
which change the tonal perception, adding elements
of lament and longing.
Track
10 - 3:32 - Jineman
Uler Kambang, slendro sanga. Gender Ibu Pringga. Another
outstanding
performance by the venerable
lady of the gender. The piece is the same as the one played
on track 6, but on a different laras
(scale) and pathet.
Recordings
made in Surakarta in 1998, 2001, and 2002
Musical
Design, Notes, and Photographs: John Noise Manis
YANTRA
PRODUCTIONS