Gamelan of Java is a new series from John Noise Manis, who produced the landmark series, Gamelan of Central Java. Volume I features two gamelan from the court of Surakarta, the Kyai Kaduk Manis, the pelog (seven tone) instruments, with Manis Rengga, the slendro (five tone) instruments; and the slendro Kyai Lokananta, an historic gamelan dating to the eighteenth century. They present two genres of gamelan, gendhing bonang, performed by the Kuai Kaduk Manis/Manis Rengga ensembles, and gendhing bedhaya-serimpi, peformed by Kyai Lokananta.
This is court music, remember, from Surakarta, a tradition noted for its delicacy and sophistication. The first offering, Gendhing bonang Babar Layar, bears this out fully. The opening passage recalls nothing so much as wind chimes, although one can soon detect the underlying structure as the rhythmic patterns begin to assert themselves. Indeed, as the piece progresses, it builds quite a bit of momentum and no small measure of intensity before it drops back into a quiet finish.
Ketawang Bedhayan Duradasih, performed by Kyai Lokananta, offers a more stately work, somewhat less romantic in concept (if I can use that term about Indonesian music), heightened by the inclusion of the chorus. This is, in fact, music for a ceremonial dance, although quite formal in feeling, it is also quite serene — even though the title, “Dura dasih,” means “deceitful love.”
The final track, Gendhing bonang Laya is performed by the slendro group Manis Rengga, and once again we have a seemingly free-form opening passage. It’s an almost impressionistic piece, calling up images of tranquil scenes in the countryside.
Volume II, Contemporary Composers, offers six works by six contemporary musicians. What may seem odd to Westerners is that the musicians, according to Manis’ brief introduction, worked together as a group, although each work is identified as having been created by one of them. (Perhaps it’s not so odd: when one considers the origins of much of our popular music, particularly jazz and rock, the first form of a song often bears little resemblance to what we hear in concert or on a recording, when each member of the band has made a contribution.)
Aloysius Suwardi’s offering, Sinchen Kewek (which translates as “flirtatious singer”), combines two genres of gamelan music, jineman, a traditional genre that forms the basis for the instrumental part, and langgam, which forms the basis of the vocals. It’s a combination that provides a good deal of dramatic tension in the piece, supported by a strong momentum that carries throughout. I remember on first hearing, I could feel myself smiling — it’s that kind of music.
Tengoro, by Darno Kartawi, reflects village life, specifically based on the composer’s childhood in a village on the border between Banyumas (central Java) and Sunda (western Java). It’s a tremendously evocative piece of music, giving a real sense of the energy of village life.
Joko Purwanto’s Waktu dan Ruang (“Time and Space”) uses the elements of the title to structure a highly abstract piece of music in which the instruments fill in the gaps in each other’s parts, sometimes competing with each other, sometimes complementing each other. Conceptually, if not in any other way, the piece reminds me of Morton Feldman’s Rothko Chapel — it has that same sense of sound and silence occupying and defining space.
The title Ukelan, composed by Prasadiyanto, refers to a style of playing in which the left hand and right hand move at different speeds. The music that results from the composer’s use of this technique provides a complex and engaging work, intricate and engaging.
Sri Harta’s Phuthut Gelut also makes use of patterns to build a piece of music. The composer notes that the idea of competition is once again central to the composition — “puthut” means “power” or “strength” and “gelut” is “to fight.” The opening passages give a sense of the music poised on the brink, which soon gives way to a complex, highly textured work, in which the vocals and the instrumentals weave through and around each other to build a rich tapestry of sound.
The final selection, Supardi’s Papat is based on four notes of the slendro scale, using the patterns thus derived to build strong momentum. Interestingly enough, this one strikes these Western ears as perhaps the most traditional of the selections on this disc. It is also quite intense, almost reaching the driven quality of Balinese gamelan.
This new series from Lyrichord is a welcome addition to my ever-growing library of gamelan. The notes, while somewhat technical, are very informative and, particularly in Volume II, give us insights into the music from the creators themselves.
(Lyrichord, 2009)
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