Reflections on the Human Condition - Api-fellowships.org

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SESSION II
rather an anomaly among its peers. Until today the
villagers faithfully conduct performances four times a
year in the communal pavilion—to celebrate Eid—the
Muslim festivity after a month of fasting, Muludan, the
Prophet’s birthday, Suran—the Javanese New Year and
Agustusan—Indonesia’s Independence Day in addition
to having developed strong networks with local arts
institutions and contemporary performers. They still
conduct an annual Merti Dusun—the ceremony of the
village spiritual cleansing, where sesaji [ritual offerings]
are offered at sacred sites and water sources, during the
Muslim month of Jamadul Akhir. Every Thursday eve,
which in Muslim cosmology is considered already Friday,
the Muslims’ traditional holy day, the villagers play their
gamelan [Javanese traditional gong, played in orchestral
arrangement].
Pak 15 Sitras’ parents devoted their days to their farms
and their evenings to the arts. He learnt traditional
dance, dance-drama and musical forms even before he
attended school, which he did briefly. He is a farmer,
dancer, actor, musician, as well as dalang [puppeteer of
wayang kulit] for shadow play performances.
Pak Sitras would have been regarded as a nominal
Muslim by Geertz and other Muslims. But Pak Sitras has
a heightened sense of spiritual philosophy, for which his
cultural and artistic devotion is an expression of. For
him, dance is an artistic form which gives fulfilment
to both the dancer and the audience and refines the
learner’s manners. It is an age-old, proven and tested
Javanese disciplinarian—it imparts the values of politeness,
humility and courtesy to young children.
Pak Sitras identifies himself as Muslim, but he does
not pray or fast, and it does not bother him or his
neighbours. He does not believe that only “Muslims”
will attain salvation. “These are all boxes. You see, art is
harder to box.”
At the heart of his spiritual concerns are plain good
manners and intentions. “I do not attend the mass
prayers at the mosque because my naluri [spiritual instinct]
is just not there. Good behaviour might just send you
to heaven,” he stresses. “I may have not learnt all the
religion there is but I am a student of akhlak [good
manners].”
In explaining the mysticism of trance and the like, no
one could have articulated the experience better than
the esteemed dalang from Surakarta, Slamet Gundono.
As a young boy, Slamet (b. 1966 / Tegal, Central Java)
loved to mingle with the mosque community, received
Ref lections on the Human Condition: Change, Conflict and Modernity
The Work of the 2004/2005 API Fellows
some pesantren education and with his gorgeous,
imposing voice, frequently participated in various Muslim
cultural performances. But he also learnt the skills of a
dalang from his brother.
To Slamet, Islam in Java had greatly benefited from
its heritage of mysticism. He points out that Javanese
literature and narrative traditions are replete with the
spiritual philosophy of the essence of inner piety.
“I for one know that trance has nothing to do with
‘the devil’. I come from a sintren 16 family. We are all
capable of getting into a trance… Trance is a concept
on “space”. If the density of this space is compacted,
your consciousness will be altered. If you are ill, your
stamina is low, you fast for too long, you can well get
into a trance. There are many levels of trance, of which
the highest I think will produce contemplation.” When
I ask him about the world of spirits, he cautions me
that “this is an abstract concept.” He tells me they come
from “the primordial world” [dunia purbakala].
Many religious rituals Slamet contends, involves exerting
points of pressure into the “space” of our consciousness—from
prayers to fasting. His elucidation explains
to us that rituals, in their most excellent form, should
set us free, a point which we usually miss.
Contemporary Concerns: Entertaining and
Enlightening Indonesia
Today, many Indonesian contemporary writers, artists
and performers continue to exhibit a fierce independence
from the religious bureaucracy, as their traditional
counterparts do. Such individuals are usually educated
at the various Indonesian tertiary arts institution but
Indonesia’s cultural plurality seems to have imparted
to them the spiritual depth to make sense of the religious
restrictions onto their art with much sophistication. 17
Arahmaiani (b.1961 / Bandung, West Java), a fine and
installation artist, performer and poet who resides in
Yogjakarta, comes from an Arab-Sundanese family.
Exposed to normative piety and Sundanese spirituality
from an early age, she admits that as a child she had a
fantasy of becoming a prophet. Arahmaiani grew up to
be a student activist under house arrest and later as an
artist and performer developed a body of work which
communicates some rather refreshing gender and religious
details. She had invited audience to write anything
they wish on any part of her body across the world,
and worked with Arabic calligraphy, Coca-Cola and
condoms in her installation works. When she stopped
praying in her teens, her devout but broad-minded