Malaysia and Pattani were the product of specific historic circumstance. The unique composition of these motifs, their coherent sense of identity and extraordinary restraint and refinement all spoke to him of a single source of great vitality and influence. This source, he believed, was the ancient kingdom of Langkasuka (see pages 153—60). In the artistry of Malay woodcarving from this region, he saw a living link to the heritage of Langkasuka. In an interview with Eddin Khoo, shortly before his death in August 2002, Nik Rashiddin talks about his beliefs.
The Cult of Wood
Malay civilization has produced countless artefacts and works of art that are now part of the common inheritance of humanity. For centuries, the craftsmen and artists of the Malay world have created not only works of art of unsurpassed beauty and aesthetic value, but have also developed an aesthetic canon that is uniquely theirs. The world of Malay art and culture is therefore one that has to be understood through a lexicon of its own. Understanding the principles of Malay art requires knowledge of a specific semiotics, linguistics and philology that help us decode the hermeneutics of Malay art and culture.1
That such a hermeneutic approach is required in order to fully comprehend the depth of meaning found in Malay art is hardly surprising given that most developed civilizations have evolved a complex matrix of symbols, ideas, beliefs and values that have become ingrained in the rubric of societal relations commonly referred to as 'culture'. Malay art, which has evolved since the pre-Islamic period and which has absorbed elements, forms, ideas and values from a number of civilizational and cultural sources, ranging from paganism, animism, the Hindu—Buddhist era, the philosophy and culture of Islam, as well as influences from Europe, China and India, is itself no stranger to cultural innovation and development.
Despite the unending process of cross-cultural borrowing and interpenetration, Malay art still retains elements and features that are exclusive and unique to itself. Scholars such as H. Ling Roth (1910) have remarked on the particular symptoms and traces of Malay art which are not found elsewhere. This specificity is rooted in an internal logic that is confined to the Malay universe of meanings and values, and finds its expression time and again in Malay artistic work. Continuity is evident in the evolution of Malay art, and this testifies to the presence of a local genius at work.
The local genius of the Malay artist has manifested itself in a number of forms and mediums. The Malay world is known for its achievements in several artistic fields, including silver working, goldsmithing, weaving and embroidery, steel and weaponry, architecture and last, though not least, woodwork and woodcarving. All of these artistic developments occurred in the context of a society that evolved close to nature and lived in harmony with it. The development of Malay art, particularly after the coming of Islam, was very much focused on the relationship between human beings and the natural world around them. With the consolidation of Islam, there emerged the growing belief that through a deeper comprehension of the workings of nature, human beings could have a better understanding of themselves, their place in the universe and their station vis-a-vis their creator. Malay-Muslim art therefore relied heavily on natural materials and motifs and symbols that were derived from the flora and fauna around artisans. Rejecting the humanism and animism of the earlier pagan age, Malay-Muslim artists from the fourteenth century onwards began to focus their attention beyond the human form to the external world of nature.
SESIKU (BRACKET) (AR004)
Kelantan, 1830, cengal wood, 98.8 x 74.4 x 3.85 cm
Decorative brackets (sesiku) are an integral architectural element used to strengthen beams and rafters in large buildings such as palaces and mosques. This bracket was removed from the Istana Balai Besar in Kota Bharu in 1921 during renovations for Sultan Ismail's coronation. The style of carving resembles that on the gravestone of the consort of Raja Long Yunus, Che Ku Tuan Nawi, in Kota Bharu (see pages 60-1). The outline of the bracket is formed by Langkasukan motifs. Though the outlines of such brackets often remain constant, internal details may vary. The original red lime wash colouring on this bracket was uncovered below many layers of gloss paint.
The relationship between the human being and the other living elements of creation served as the new metaphor for humankind's existential condition and people's desire to acknowledge the 'other' in their lives. One of the first living entities to be incorporated into this existentialist drama was the tree. In this respect, the tree was a crucial element that stood between human beings and the natural world, and it served as the bridge that linked these two spheres.
Between Nature and Civilization: The Tree as a Liminal Entity
For the pagan Malays of the ancient past, the tree was literally the core of their universe. They believed that at the centre of the world was a great ocean, and in the middle of this ocean grew a gigantic tree called Pauh Jangi—the original, primordial tree of life that had stood since the beginning of creation. At the root of this enormous tree was a cavern called Pusat Tasek (Navel of the Great Lake). In this cavern lived a gigantic crab that emerged once a day. The movement of this gigantic creature caused the ebb and flow of the tides, the shifting of the winds and other atmospheric changes (Skeat, 1900). But it was the great tree Pauh Jangi that kept this pagan cosmos together, serving as the gravitational centre to this mobile and erratic universe.
Although such beliefs gradually lost their grip on the Malay mind-set, the respect and reverence for trees endured for much longer. With the coming of other religious systems, the Malay universe underwent several radical changes and revisions. The tree was gradually displaced and relocated to the margins of the Malay world, but it remained a crucial element in the cosmology of the Malay people. With the coming of Hinduism, Buddhism and, finally, Islam, the Malays began to view the world differently. But the tree remained fixed in their perennial mind-set.
The tree belonged to nature, and by extension, to the rest of creation. It cannot be understood in isolation, as it has always been part of a greater, harmonious whole that extended beyond its immediate form. The Malays viewed the tree as one of the fundamental symbols of life, creation and nature, knowing that it was one of the axial points in the cosmic drama that was played out before them. Trees were therefore an element of nature that played a crucial role in the development of Malay society as well as its aesthetics, philosophy and pseudo-sciences. But it also had to be well understood before it could be brought into use. This, however, was not such an easy or straightforward process, for the tree was not like any other element of nature that could be easily domesticated and utilized at whim. To the mind of the traditional Malay, the tree was also a liminal entity that stood in between two worlds—that of nature and that of human civilization.
The scholar Clifford Geertz (1993) once remarked that the moral and epistemological universe of the peoples of the Malay archipelago was divided into two mutually exclusive realms. On the one hand, there was the outer world of nature and natural forces, the environment of liar (wild) and kasar (rough). Conversely, there was the batin (inner) world of civilized human beings, the realm of halus (refined) and sopan (cultured). The division between the world of raen and the natural world without was drawn along the lines of this frontier between agonistic, primal nature and the civilized,2 the wild and the cultivated, the amoral and the ethical.
The Malays understood that their civilization was an artificial social construct that had to be protected and reproduced. Order in society was maintained through a complex network of social values and norms, and kept in check by the hierarchical mode of government that was typical of feudal communities. Yet the fabric of this fragile social drama could be torn asunder should the forces of nature be allowed to intervene in the affairs of men. The introduction, cultivation and reproduction of social, political, moral and aesthetic order was therefore of primary importance in the setting of traditional Malay settlements. One of the ways this sense of order was
