Читать книгу Spirit of Wood - Farish Noor - Страница 10

Оглавление

A Craftsman Speaks

A conversation with master carver Nik Rashiddin Nik Hussein,* as recorded by Eddin Khoo

History is all-important. A people with no history are a people with no future. We have to know our past, we have to delve deeper into it, augment our knowledge, inform others... for it is a lack of history that makes a people lose their direction in life. At present we live, day after day, without a sense of history, and because of this we are in a constant state of flux, not knowing where we are destined, at what station we will arrive. But with a sense of history, and a pride in our past, we will have a deeper love of life, a love for our lineage—what more our origins—and we will not want anyone to intrude upon our history. We will allow people to partake of it but only with a sense of respect, pride and the intention to further enrich their knowledge and understanding of our past.

It is a known fact that history is an accurate gauge of a people's culture. Altering and manipulating facts is a deception and will result in us devouring ourselves. Instead, we must try to discover the origins of our history and it must be perceived in all its authenticity, not only those aspects which we believe are proper and relevant. Even what is not is still history, for history undergoes its own process and this must be respected. We have to accept our past in all its aspects—the good, the bad, the ignorant, the religious—because that is the course of nature.

Such an understanding is important; it is very important to my own life. When history is sound, religion is sound. If religion is sound but history is weak, we are finished. We are cast into a deep, dark abyss. History is what forges us. Our ancestors spoke our history and passed it down through word of mouth—through their stories, the mouths of their storytellers-and enriched our past. Now it is we who have to further enrich what we already have, for a people who preserve their history command respect. However, we have to accept that with everything that is good and positive, there is also the bad and the negative. With everything that is worthy, there is also the unworthy. Not everything in our experience can be good. Even a little good is reason for pride. Without the bad, the negative, there cannot be the good and the positive. If all is good in our experience and we are then forced to encounter even a little that is bad, we will surely lose all sense of balance and be destroyed.

HILT, KERIS TAJONG (KW076)

Pattani, mid-19th c., kemuning wood, 9.5 x 13.5 x 4 cm

Pucuk paku (fern shoots) form the eyelashes on this hilt. Sungo tanjung form the hair and beard, along with leaves of the more evolved style of daun Melayu (lit. Malay leaf). Bronze is inlaid to highlight the eye, tusks and cheek.


A keris tajong hilt with Langkasukan motifs. Drawing by Nik Rashiddin Nik Hussein.

It is history that shapes our self; and when we share that self we, in turn, enrich history. History opens us to all things. It gives us self-discipline and a sense of character, and these keep us from being cast into an abyss. Thus history and the self are bound and each self contributes to the enrichment of history. It is history that shapes the individuality and character of a person, making him strong, confident and rooted. We must establish an intimacy with the past and make history synonymous with our soul. For if we want to embark on any experience but cast history aside, we will be embarking on the path of error. And that is why we must return to Langkasuka.

There is much dispute about Langkasuka. Did it exist? Where was it located? Some say in Kedah, others claim the Kelantan—Pattani region. For me, these disputes do not strike at the truth. We cannot think of Langkasuka in terms of borders and boundaries. These are but creations of modern man. That kingdom was vast and it had no borders. At the time of Langkasuka there was no Kedah, Kelantan or Pattani because they were all one country, one earth. What is important is the cultural inheritance, for it is this which carries the spirit, its heritage and tradition; and this inheritance is not land, not wind, air, fire but the inheritance of a people who created a distinct cuisine, dress and language. And it is this spirit that we craftsmen imbibe when we create a work. We must think of Langkasuka as the current of a spirit, a landscape. When we are able to do this, then I believe we have to place it within this, the Kelantan—Pattani region, because it is here, it did exist, it had its port.

The intellectual understanding of historians differs from the sensibility and experience of the craftsman. The historians' debate is based on writing and narration, whereas the craftsman experiences with each groove in the wood, in the chisel, the crevice in the stone, the durability of gold, minerals... in the sensibility. For the craftsman, the ingredients must be strong; his touch, reaction. All that we craftsmen encounter, we imbibe. People speak at great length about skill and learning. But how far do we truly understand the meaning of skill and learning? Many are skilled but they have no learning. What is more valuable is learning, rather than skill.

Historians like proof of something, but the craftsman—more so the master craftsman—experiences potently, because with each strike of the chisel, with every notch in the wood there is a being, an ancestor, that guides and instructs using the mata hati, the inner eye. That being is the guru asal. It is a kind of gift, an ingenuity of the spirit that is realized in the craftsman at all times. The nature of it may change but without it we will lose the worth of our work. The guru asal guides generation after generation. And we abide by it, then offer a prayer. The guru asal forges the confluence between the craftsman and his ancestry. When the craftsman begins his work, he must invoke it. That is why when the craftsman completes a work, he falls ill. By ill, I mean he lacks food for his soul for a while. When the soul is again nourished, he embarks on a new work and is revived. This, of course, differs according to the age and maturity of the craftsman. The guru asal guides all. And who bequeathed this? It is a civilization that bequeathed it. In the past the people—the craftsman, the shadow puppeteer, the storyteller—made a pledge to their ancestors, a promise to nature. If we do not abide by tradition when we begin work, we feel we have transgressed this promise, committed a wrong. The craftsman perceives this bond with his heritage. We always feel that something is guiding us, instructing us. The creative experience of the craftsman convinces us that what we create does not emerge from our individual creative resources alone. It emanates from the legacy, the spirit, the soul of the old. This is what really creates and serves as the source, the root, the origin. It remains as a guardian to the spirit of this civilization through the generations.



Asia and the Malay Peninsula showing the location of present-day Kelantan, Terengganu and Pattani.


Details are drawn on to the hilt after it has been roughly blocked with an adze (cetar).


An essential part of the carving process is constant evaluation of the piece being worked on. Many hours, even days, are spent studying and assessing the form and working out the evolution of the design. Nik Rashiddin, who always carved with his left hand, is holding a carving knife (pisau wall) used to etch out the detail.

The late Nik Rashiddin Nik Hussein carving a hilt for a keris tajong.

This bond is essential. Every creation of the craftsman must have a point of reference. When we want to create a piece of work, we must first perceive its history and from its history, its shape, style, design. Only then can we arrive at a stage of making. The craftsman imbibes the spirit of his civilization from an artefact, from its surface since each artefact is invested with a spirit that endures. We are able to absorb it because the original makers created and invested it with a sensibility, the effects of which can still be felt. The original makers had a real sense of purpose, one that arose from their veneration and apprehension of their civilization.

This is what we need to talk about. The dimensions, proportions, perceptions are difficult to appreciate today because people have become 'plastic'. We have become a breed that simply cannot embrace such depth. There are no people who are distinct and unique who do not boast the support of a civilization. If you are severed from your civilization, you will certainly meet with error. A civilization is a constant reference, a marker, a presence. It is something the craftsman experiences all the time. Whether he is aware of it or not, he has an unwritten reference to this civilization.

The work of a craftsmen, if it is not anchored in a civilization, becomes mere trend. We have to return to the past to demonstrate what we possess, what has been determined faithfully by a preceding civilization that now waits to be clarified, explained in terms of its genealogy, lineage, ancestry. And this ancestry is clear. It possesses feet and hands and touch. It exists in the material, in wood, in cloth and in gold. I feel, and the craftsman feels, and this feeling is potent. Even if we do not want to experience these feelings, they will nevertheless descend; the blood ties of old... not just a mere generation or two but extending five, six generations.

Craftsmen today still have faith in the guru asal and we still possess the artefacts of our civilization. These artefacts need not necessarily be a structure, such as Borobudur or Angkor Wat. They can be a piece of broken wood, a shard of glass, but they still have a story. It is in this that we must seek deeper, keeping the faith, for we must realize that art and all creation does not come about through an individual's creative resources alone. A work of art is a legacy bequeathed by a civilization that is faithful to its particular way of life, its religion. That which is a result of individual creativity does not endure. It is the sensibility and knowledge that is supported by religion and a civilization that lasts. That is why we have to return to Langkasuka.

I have long thought about it and believe that we cannot use any other term. The craftsman believes such a civilization exists. The intellectual studies notes; we have to study the earth, its origins. As a craftsman, I am convinced from the point of view of craftsmanship. The existence of this civilisation is obvious in the design, form, motif. The work of our predecessors was all wrought with the soul, with the mata hati, with a sensibility and not mere feeling—they used thought, not their passion. If you use only passion you will not succeed in conveying the message. Certainly, the process of creation is clear in the decoration, embellishment, style and symbol of their craft. Most importantly, you perceive a current from this civilization. It does not speak of wealth or riches but tells of the experience of a people past who were faithful to their way of life, who were unwilling to go against the ways of their civilization. Each work possesses its own measure, skill, symbol, identity—an identity that emerges from the earth. It does not come from the sky or the people, but from the earth.


PANEL (AR002A)

Masjid Aur Menatjung, Pattani, pre-18th c., medang hitam wood, 35.5 x 20.3 x 1 cm

A fragment of a panel from above a wall aperture, executed in tebuk tembus berukir, roughly translated as the fully pierced and carved technique. Discarded from a very early mosque in Pattani, it demonstrates the qualities found in early Langkasukan design which embodied restrained symmetry and balance and a fluid and natural line. The Langkasukan motifs, symbolic of early Hindu iconography, are joined by a complex interplay of stems. Medang hitam wood is considered to have spiritual qualities, and as such is suitable also for making religious artefacts, such as book rests (rehal) for the Koran (see page 107).

If you understand and appreciate matters of embellishment, decoration, design and style, you will perceive the closeness of these people to nature. In nature, they do not live in wealth, with a sense of T, 'my race'... no... they are close to nature, unwilling to overturn a log of wood, disturb a shrub. They are familiar with nature and understand that everything is shared between people and plants and that they are compelled to expressing this closeness. People who understand what influences their thoughts and shapes their character understand that nature feeds the soul. It is a realization that comes from a spirit that is rooted in a civilization. This cannot be experienced in an urban setting. If I want to speak on the history of the keris, I cannot do it at the KLCC [Kuala Lumpur City Centre]; I need to be by the banks of the Kelantan and Pattani rivers, talk in places where the soul and spirit of my heritage exist.

A sensibility, an experience is not something I can talk of easily. I can sit here and speak of it only because I want to share the experience, the experience of the smell of wood, its feel, its sharpness, the texture of the grindstone. If we can truly imbibe and experience this we may become, at least for a while, stone, wood... we may enter. That is why we cannot leave history behind because history is a reference for all these experiences. You cannot discover this in a library or an institution of higher learning. You have to meet the craftsman....


Detail of the tail of a ceremonial bird (see pages 114-15), showing the symmetrical design of flowers and leaves of the keraknasi plant (lit. scrapings from the rice pot which resemble the way in which the leaves of this plant curl). While the motifs on each side of the tail share a common shape, the details in each vary, testimony to the woodcarver's attention to detail and to his artistry.

Spirit of Wood

Подняться наверх