Garuda Indonesia Colours Magazine March 2014 | Page 128

126

Travel | Solo

It doesn’t take long for me to remember how little artistic talent
I have. I’m sitting on a small stool in the wonderfully rustic workshop
at the back of Gunawan Setiawan, one of the leading producers and
sellers of Indonesia’s famous batik clothing designs. I have a canvas
and a bizarre sort of pen in my hand, and I have produced something
that would embarrass my two-year-old nephew.
UNESCO recently declared Indonesian batik
a ‘masterpiece of oral and intangible heritage
of humanity’. I don’t think UNESCO had my
personal creation in mind when they made
that designation, but taking one of Gunawan
Setiawan’s batik-making courses is a great way
to spend an hour, and it offers a real insight
into just how skilful the artisans sitting
around me are – they have spent years
mastering their technique.
Batik is a complex wax-and-dye technique
and an ancient art that actually pre-dates
written records in Java and is thought to have
arrived along with Indian and Sri Lankan
traders around the sixth or seventh century.
Although earlier practised across many
countries, Java has become its spiritual home.
I watch the artisans around me wielding their
tjanting – a sort of wooden fountain pen with
a bronze spout filled with melted beeswax –
drawing intricate designs onto reams of
material with dexterous skill.

Tenun ikat in the Sumber
Sandang workshop in Pedan.
Batik manufacture at the
Danar Hadi workshop.

The wax keeps out the dye when the
cloth is dunked in vats of colour in the back,
and is then washed off so that fresh patterns
can be created in the gaps. It’s very complicated
and the finished results are as varied as they
are stunning.
There are many long-lasting traditions that
lie behind Solo’s batik. A local museum at
Danar Hadi, run by one of the city’s leading
merchant families, offers the full spectrum –
from the designs invented by the wives of
Dutch colonialists through to the exquisite
styles of former sultans and queens, and the
singular styles used for auspicious special
occasions such as weddings and births.
Solo – known formally as Surakarta – is
steeped in ancient tradition, but is actually
a relatively young city, having only been
created in 1745 after the former capital
of the Mataram kingdom was sacked
by Dutch colonisers. Chastened, the Mataram
royals in Solo struck a deal with the Dutch
and established a thriving dynasty on this
new site. Although stripped of their political
powers at the time of independence in 1945,
the monarchy remains the custodian
of local traditions.
I head to one of the two royal palaces in Solo
– known as kraton – for a chance to learn more
about the fascinating history of court rivalries
and salacious royal gossip, while also escaping
the midday heat among the cool, tree-lined
courtyards and grand buildings.
The sultan’s authority is tied up closely with
the animist religious traditions of the local
people. He is thought to have a close personal
relationship with the goddess of the sea –
a tower in the centre of the compound acts
as a communication post between them,
and sand has been shipped in from the southern
beaches in honour of their connection.
The sultan is held up as the source of good
fortune for his subjects, and such is the
reverence he still commands that some locals
are known to follow after his carriage during
royal processions, collecting the horse dung
that comes from his royal steeds.
The supernatural aura that surrounds the
monarchy is testament to the vibrant mix
of religious cultures in Solo. The region has