this book has material origins, without which it would never have come into being, namely the renowned collection of Balinese textiles in the Basel Museum of Ethnography, where two of the three authors are curators.
The genesis of this collection goes back to the years immediately preceding and following the Second World War, but there are certain pieces which date from the turn of the century. The criteria observed in its composition are not antiquity, (Western) aesthetics or sumptuous quality. Rather, since it is a collection based on scientific principles, importance has been attached primarily to obtaining a broad variety of examples of the textile craft, with reference to the materials and techniques employed as well as to their regional origins and to their functions and meanings.
For these collections we are indebted primarily to the Basel ethnologist Paul Wirz (1892-1955), the ethnologist and textile specialist Alfred Bühler (1900-1981), and the painter Theo Meier (1908-1982). This "Bali tradition" has continued to flourish at the Museum of Ethnography and the University of Basel down to today. The present volume is a testimony to this.
We have documented these textiles during several visits to the island, and have done so in terms of "textiles in Bali." Urs Ramseyer made a study of geringsing cloths such as are produced only in Tenganan, most of his work being done in 1972-74. All other textiles presented in this book were documented by the three authors between 1988 and 1990.
The book is divided into chapters according to the most important categories of textiles, although these admittedly make up only a cross-section—albeit a representative one—of what is actually a far richer textile life in Bali.
If, as previously mentioned, the collection of the Basel Museum of Ethnography forms the material basis for this book, it does so more especially in the sense that it was the starting point for intensive research. The book represents an initial summing up of this documentary work. It shows how textiles are embedded in the cultural matrix of Bali, and tells by whom and under what conditions textiles are made as well as when, where and how such cloths are used. It shows clearly how the weaving techniques, patterns, dyes and materials used form the "raw material" from which is spun a fine network of cultural significations and interrelated contexts of meaning. Our attempt is to direct the reader's attention from the material to the non-material—to the social and the semiotic. In other words, textiles are presented here as a cultural "language," to the understanding and interpretation of which we have addressed our special attention.
Many of the textiles are works of art in their own right. However, we have refrained from a contemplation of their aesthetics since this would inevitably involve alien, non-Balinese criteria. It is therefore left- to the reader—if he will—to proceed to an aesthetic assessment of the textiles; no hierarchy of values is proposed.
Precisely because of the importance of textiles in Bali, especially in rituals of all kinds, the book was written not only for textile devotees and readers interested in Bali but also for the people of Bali itself. There is no other reference work covering the wealth of their textiles. Moreover, the indigenous textile handicrafts of this island find themselves coming under severe pressure from new and differently—mainly commercially—oriented values, as it has become a holiday paradise for visitors from faraway. The upshot is that the diversity of traditional textiles has begun to diminish and a great deal has already fallen into oblivion. At the same time, however, the textile crafts have received a new impetus and—with the creativity characteristic of Bali—have struck out along novel lines, with astonishing and compelling results.
The documentary work underlying the book has been rendered possible by two factors: support by institutions in Switzerland (Swiss National Fund, Department of Education and Culture of the Canton of Basel City, Voluntary Academic Association) and in Indonesia which made possible our journey and stay, and the people of Bali who met us with never-failing cordiality, allowed us to share their life, and answered all our questions with great patience.
Our gratitude to our friends in Belayu, Beratan, Intaran and Sanur, Kerambitan, Kusamba, Legian, Sidemen, Tenganan and in Nusa Penida is more than we can express with this book.
—B, Hauser-Schdublin
—M. L. Nahholz-Kartaschoff
Sanur, November 1990
Figure 1.1: For an annual temple festival the central shrine, representing a holy mountain, is decorated all over a univers arrayed Sanur.
CHAPTER ONE
The Universe Arrayed
Textiles in Bali
FOR anyone coming from a distant country, landing at Bali's Ngurah Rai International Airport is a memorable experience. He is lapped in warm tropical air, to his ears come the first snatches of the Balinese language, and when he expectantly steps outside the airport building, a colorful picture meets his eyes: taxi drivers and travel agents are dressed in dark trousers and light-colored shirts, while younger people mill about in blue jeans and brightly emblazoned T-shirts. Smartly dressed hostesses from major hotels and tour companies have come to welcome the new arrivals and conduct them safely to their temporary residences.
The journey from the airport to any other destination leads past a statue of I Gusti Ngurah Rai, a Balinese hero in the national struggle for freedom and independence. The crowded highway leads past shrimp nurseries bordering the coast, while cattle graze in fields by the roadside. Men, women and children travel on foot, astride bicycles or motorbikes, and in cars and minivans. Some of the children sport blue-and-white or red-and-white national school uniforms, while adults are dressed in the international style now common the world over. Overall, the impression is one of a prosperous, thriving island.
Just as one is beginning to think, however, that Bali has succumbed to the dictates of international fashion, an unexpected sight meets the eye. In the midst of the streaming traffic is a family riding on a motorbike: the father, who is driving, is not wearing long trousers but a batik hip cloth covered by a somewhat shorter yellow cloth with a gold-and-white border. His white shirt flutters in the wind, while around his head is tied a cloth—a standard element of men's festive apparel. Perched on the gas tank, between his father's legs, is a four-year-old lad, also in traditional dress: a songkèt hip cloth matching his size, a white T-shirt and, like his father, a headcloth. The mother sits side-saddle behind her husband. Her long wraparound is of endek material in various shades of blue, with a kebaya blouse in a matching solid color. A broad sash of the same endek material is wound around her waist over the blouse and hip cloth, setting off her slender figure. Her face is made up with care, and her long black hair is tied in a bun that drapes down gracefully at the back of her head. In her hair are golden flowers that nod and wave with every movement.
Figure 1.2: First attempts at weaving on the cagcag loom. Karangasem, Sidemen.
On her lap the woman holds a silvery metal offering dish with a splendid tower of artistically-arranged fruits and brightly-colored Balinese cakes. Obviously the family is on its way to a temple festival to present their offerings to the gods, to pray and to receive their blessings in return. Cycling circumspectly along the roadside is a man dressed in white from his headcloth to his skirt: he is a pemangku, a temple priest, on his way to perform his daily ministrations in his sanctuary.
On arrival at one of the major hotels, the visitor is greeted by Balinese employees wearing outfits modeled after traditional clothing. The apparel is tasteful in color, flattering the figures of men and women alike, imparting
