Karawitan and Javanese magic.
Pak ‘Gembok’ (Mr Padlock) leads Sanggar Widya Pramana, a Javanese traditional performance arts studio for underprivileged children. A self taught musician and a dancer; an ophiophilist (he has three pythons, he feeds them with live chickens).
He got his nickname because he has ways with padlocks and locks. He has a collection of knives and blades, some have been wetted by human blood.
Pak Gembok has shed his old skin. He lives a quiet life now with his wife and children, as an artist. His eldest son just got admitted to Universitas Gadjah Mada. School of engineering.
He’s good friend with Pak Edi, a healer. Like the Balinese counterpart, Javanese healer’s therapy involves massages, slicing your chakras with sacred keris, knocking your head with agate imbued with magic, or inflicting pain on other parts of your body that you forgot the original pain. Like many healers, he is also a purveyor of psychedelic potions and herbal cigarettes; a broker of antique collections.
I became his willing patient (or subject?).
‘Your body shows you have a lot of repressed emotions,’ Pak Edi said.
‘Mood swings. You look composed on the outside but turmoils in the inside. Signs of PTSD.’
The mantras he performed, the parapsychology analysis, and the small talks about metaphysics made the healing experience ‘an intellectual decompression chamber’, a ‘high magic’—a LaVeyan Satanic Ritual. Being ‘read’ was scary for me, I felt vulnerable when someone could see through me. But it also made me relaxed and felt the human connection.
Pak Edi is not against modern medicine. His children are medical doctors. His wife, with her sharia views, wants him to abandon his ‘pagan’ practices though.
Pak Edi said that he and Pak Gembok were a band of warriors in their past lives, 3000 years ago. Fought side by side among or against the ranks of chariots and war elephants.
The sanggar provides training to children interested with karawitan, the Javanese traditional performance arts: dances, wayang kulit (shadow puppets), and gamelan.
Some of the kids have no formal education at all, some survivors of abuses. The arts may be the only luxury they have, something beyond survival needs. An existential outlet.
We had iftar with the sanggar at Iwak Kalen, courtesy of Tito as their patron. We all sat cross legged on plastic woven mats. The favourite dish was the grilled catfish, freshly caught straight from the ponds of the restaurant.
The smell of muddy fresh water and sweet soy sauce in hot and humid Jogja weather may be ‘anyep’, Pak Gembok said. But it is his favourite restaurant. His happy place.
We were graced with a welcome performance: a gamelan orchestra and a ronggeng dance. The dancer wore hijab, but the dance is sensual; the sounds of gamelan are mystical.
The performance arrested my attention. I pressed the shutter release. I was in the flow state: the subjects and the environments were aligned. Usually, I don’t like photographing Java’s tropical hues in colour—the light is either diluted by high humidity or flat bright under blazing sun. But I am pleased with the Kodachrome Classic based film simulation recipe I set on the X100T.
After the iftar, we shared a bottle of Bushmills Blackbush at Pak Gembok’s home. Pak Edi told us Javanese parables on drinking:
Eka padma sari: one shot, like a beetle suckling nectar;
Dwi amartani: two shots, humbled oneself–prone to any persuasion;
Tri kawula busana: three shots, everyone wears the commoner dress–becomes equal;
Catur wanara rukem: four shots, like a monkey fighting for rukam (fruit, Flacourtia rukam);
Panca sura panggah: five shots, fearless and shameless;
Sad guna waweka: six shots, paranoia;
Sapta kukila warsa: seven shots, like a soaked bird–babbling;
Ashta kacara-cara: eight shots, uncontrolled speeches;
Nawa wagra lapa: nine shots, like an impotent tiger;
Dasa buta mati: ten shots, like a dead giant.
We stopped at third shots. We were officially friends by the first shot anyway. This year’s Ramadan’s blessings.
Sanggar Widya Pramana is one of the few sanggars with a complete set of wayang kulit. They hold regular performance every Kamis (Thursday) Wage. Honouring the arts’ heritage, the schedule follows the Javanese Calendar, the Anno Javanico—a mix between Gregorian, Islamic, and Saka calendar systems.
Contact: Jl. Cakra 4 Cokrowijayan, Banyuraden, Gamping RT 04 RW 18 Sleman, Yogyakarta