100
rasa I only played kenong12 [at the gamelan academy in the city]. I could play gendèr a little—badly!—it was village playing [gendéran désa]. (Sastro Tugiyo, April 30, 1992) [After singing a passage from an unaccompanied song:] When you sing it that way it’s lugu [straight, plain]. But people outside [the palace tradition] (di luar) consider it berbobot [accomplished, of high quality]. (Suhartå, December 12, 1989) [About different versions of the gérong part to Ladrang Pangkur:] It’s the village version that’s more gagah [strong, “handsome”], more varied, more inspired; in the city it’s just “simple,” lugu [plain]. (Sudarsono, November 30, 1991) In the Kraton they’re not critical enough—“well, all right, whatever . . . ”—It’s like the Kraton Yogya. Pak Tjokro,13 when a klenèngan luar [music-making session outside the palace] falls apart, he says, “Jeez! You’re imitating the Kraton!” (Sutarman, June 24, 1992)
4. Who has more rasa: men or women? Pesindhèns are incapable of matching the rasa gendhing. [ . . . ] Most pesindhèns are sindhèn alam [“natural,” untrained singers]—they just imitate. [ . . . ] They can’t tell the rasa of their own singing, and don’t know what different pieces call for. (Wignyosaputro, June 19, 1992) The performers don’t always know the unsur [rasa] of the gendhings they sing (on many recordings the rasa’s all wrong); the pesindhèns don’t study that. (Sutarman, June 10, 1992) [Gendhing gecul (jocular), prenès (coquettish), klasik (classic), kasmaran (lovelorn):] pesindhèns can’t tell one from another. (Sastro Tugiyo, May 6, 1992) In musicians’ lingo there’s an expression for pesindhèns: “swargå nunut, neråkå katut” [Ng] [(they) hitch along (to) heaven, (are) carried along (to) hell].14 [ . . . ] This means that they’ll follow anyone, that they don’t have any independence. [ . . . ] Wherever the niyågås [instrumentalists] go, she goes too.15 (Sasto Tugiyo, May 6, 1992)
12. A time-marking pot-gong—one of the easiest instruments to play. 13. Wasitodiningrat (alias Tjokrowasito and Wasitodipuro), an eminent musician from Yogyakarta, associated with the Pakualaman Palace (Yogya’s “other” palace). 14. This expression seems to have been a common one for women in general. It is used in Kasman Singodimejo’s O, Anakku, a letter of advice by a Javanese political prisoner to his daughter (quoted in Bonneff 1977:225). Whereas the form is only slightly different, the interpretation is quite distinct: the proverb, Singodimejo says, was intended to teach a woman her proper relationship to her husband, but he rejects it as old-fashioned. He glosses “Wong wadon iku suargané nunut, nerakané katut” as “the wife’s paradise consists in following her husband; if she goes to hell, it’s because she’s followed him there as well.” 15. The primary meaning here is metaphorical: the pesindhèn’s part starts and finishes later than the other parts. This allows her to hear what is coming up and sing the appropriate melodic pattern