 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Letter to a Dancer:
In Memory of Benedictus Suharto
Dear Ben: Forgive me for not writing earlier. Since you left this perishable world on December 27, 1997, I have been thinking a lot about you and trying to make a reflection on our friendship. I wish you could enjoy reading this letter and respond to it–the way you were–calm and polite with soft words imbued with humor. If you were here I would tease you and we would both end up bursting with laughter. That was what we usually did while we were students at ASTI (1), in Yogyakarta more than twenty years ago. I still like to laugh at myself knowing how stupid I was sometimes. Unlike me, you were too damn serious and never enjoyed laughing at yourself except once. It was in 1966, when we performed with the Ramayana Prambanan troupe in India. In Delhi, ten minutes before the performance began, everybody was dressed. You too had put on every piece of your costumes...except your trousers. We burst with laughter. Dressed as Hanila–the blue monkey hero–I hurriedly helped you undress and then re-dress into your Laksmana costumes. Naturally I had to do this service, because Hanila is a lower ranking officer while Laksmana is half brother of Rama, the future king of Ayodhya! |
 Photos of Ben Suharto courtesy of F.X. Widaryanto |
We always performed contrasting characters. You almost always danced the “alus,” the ideal-refined Javanese male hero, while I assumed the role of the unfavorable “kasar,” the lower ranking officer who does the physical work. You were the protagonist and many times I was the antagonist. In 1978, for the Congress on Research in Dance conference in Honolulu, you danced Arjuna, who symbolizes the good side of Javanese personality. And I, of course, was Chakil, the evil part of every self.(2) Then in 1984 to celebrate the New Year’s eve at Graha Bhakti Budhaya, Taman Ismail Marzuki (the Jakarta Arts Center), you danced Sumantri, the handsome and refined male hero of the story, while I performed as Sukosrono, Sumantri’s younger brother who had a very ugly appearance. Off stage, you tended to live the ideal Javanese character of “alus.” On the contrary, off stage, I neither want to live as a “Monkey” hero nor as the “evil” Chakil. Two days ago, Ben, I reviewed a video-documentary of the Ramayana dance drama performance which I choreographed with my wife Endang for the New York Consulate Gamelan Group that was presented at the Triplex, New York, on March 30, 1990.(3) This performance was only a few months before you returned to Indonesia after finishing your study at the University of California, Los Angeles. You danced as Rama, one of the characters you specialized in as a performer. Nyoman Wenten (then dance professor at the California Institute of the Arts) performed as (Javanese) Rahwana, a character he usually danced in the United States, Endang danced as Sitha and I performed as the white monkey hero, Hanuman. Sumarsam and Hardjito from Wesleyan University were in the gamelan orchestra. This was a great performance and a nice reunion. Off stage, we talked a lot and exchanged ideas. It seemed to me that your study at UCLA had given you plenty of time not only to contemplate but also to meditate. Meanwhile, living in New York with Endang and my two daughters provided me, on the one hand, with psychological security but, on the other, with a heavy economical and physical burden. So Ben, I wish you understood my insensitive response when you seriously told me of your mystical experience: that the late Sultan Hamengku Buwono VII was present among us, that you and I had been “chosen” to save the future development of Indonesian dance. I laughed and argued at that time: “How can I save Indonesian dance while I am still struggling with my own life in New York City?” |