WITH so much emphasis on local batik, the product, though quintessentially Malaysian, is still a growing industry. The earliest mention of batik was in the 17th century Malay annals. Legend has it that Sultan Mahmud of Melaka had ordered Laksamana Hang Nadim to sail to India to get 140 pieces of serasah cloth (batik) with 40 types of flowers depicted on each.
The history of batik is a compelling one; according to the Oslo Museum of Cultural History, the Javanese influenced Malay batik-making, as well as the designs.
This Leader, however, will not delve again into Malaysian batik’s early years or its production. A compendium of it can be found anywhere on the Internet.
What this Leader wants to push for is the setting up a batik enclave in Terengganu. And about time, too. A student of batik will tell you that “batik is the soul of the Indo-Malay culture”. When studying the art of batik, one will learn so much about the culture and history of the Malay peninsula and Indonesian archipelago.
Every symbol, sign, pattern and colour used on the fabric represents something that is culturally related. A batik enclave will encapsulate all that is batik, making it more recognisable.
Undoubtedly, Malaysian batik is iconic, but it is not in the “consciousness of most Malaysians”. A batik trader said that unlike Indonesia, Malaysia does not have a “batik ecosystem” to give the product prominence.
Yogyakarta in Central Java, for instance, was named batik city by the World Craft Council in 2015. Indonesia has been celebrating “Batik Day” since 2009 after the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation designated Indonesian batik as a Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.
There’s even a batik school (also in Yogyakarta), and an encyclopedia on Indonesian batik, compiled by researchers from Universitas Gadjah Mada in — yes, again— Yogyakarta.
Terengganu is already known as the country’s centre for batik. The Noor Arfa Craft Complex (NACC) in Kuala Terengganu has 70 pavilions promoting and selling made-in-Malaysia batik, as well as its own brand.
NACC also trains students from Yayasan DiRaja Sultan Mizan on batik art and production since 2007. Why not further expand the idea — have an enclave that lives and breathes batik? Although government departments, shopping malls and media campaigns have done much to promote batik, more needs to be done.
Our batik traders, for example, are quite ignorant of the nature of Malaysian batik because they are not involved in the art of making it.
We need batik experts, people who are able to regale stories about Malaysian batik, how unique and different it is from Indonesian batik. This newspaper, on Sunday, front-paged a story of Kajang Prison inmates finding “freedom in creative expression” through batik.
Their skills are impressive — why not have them among the trainees and experts at the enclave so they can learn more and have their craft displayed? For sure, the enclave, if done right, will draw in the tourists.
It’s about going the extra mile, capitalising on talents that can promote and preserve our batik industry and passing on the skills, an art tradition that is centuries-old, lest we may be guilty of losing yet another heritage, just like how we lost Iman, Malaysia’s last Sumatran rhino.