SIMFONI RAKYAT MALAYSIA was a pre-election promo for Malaysia Inc – but fortunately a well-produced one
With another general election around the corner, it was inevitable that the Ministry of Culture, Arts and Tourism would seize the opportunity to present a glorious feel-good concert showcasing a veritable ethnomusicological rainbow – emblematic of a harmonious and prosperous national destiny. As to be expected, when a public relations agenda takes precedence over musical content, a large portion of the show was merely cosmetic – politically correct candy for the ear and eye.
Featuring the works of 10 prominent composer/arrangers – performed by a gigantic orchestra of 100 musicians and embellished by 6 popular vocalists – Simfoni Rakyat Malaysia came across in parts as a rustic roadshow with philharmonic aspirations.
Nonetheless, kudos are due to artistic director Sabri Buang, concert director Ridzuan Salam and music director Pauzi Majid for pulling off this spectacular multi-ethnic concert – considering the nightmarish logistics of working with such a motley cast and crew. So what if the vulgar reek of pre-election perfume was a bit obvious – there were enough sublime musical moments to make it all worthwhile.
The first half of the program was celebratory and extrovert – with Liza Hanim’s soulfully patriotic rendition of Pahlawanku (“My Warrior”), followed by Elaine Kang’s elegant (but thematically trite) Shanghai Beach. Next came a spirited, Bollywoodish instrumental, Chinnamamiyeh, topped off with a scintillating vocal medley winningly performed by Datin Sri Manimala and Muthu Kumaran. Bland, safe, populist stuff indeed: a tokenistic kebaya-cheongsam-sari routine that would have looked good on TV as a Gongxi-Raya-Thaipusam greeting card from your friendly neighborhood government.
Not exactly the sort of fare that demands devout attention, but those caught sending SMSes were finger-wagged by an ever-alert Istana Budaya official armed with a walkie-talkie. I can understand strict adherence to the rules when attending a theatrical performance or classical recital – but the festive atmosphere, not to mention the almost deafening volume of the music, made us feel we were at an open-air pesta where eating, talking, and receiving phonecalls were all par for the course. That’s the Malaysian ethos for you: guided democracy, controlled fun.
The volume was mercifully brought down a notch or two for the second half of the show, which in any case carried a higher cerebral and deeper emotional content – with more adventurous and exploratory compositions/arrangements by Nasir Tan Sri P. Ramlee, Saidah Rastam, Yii Kah Hoe, Narawi Rashidi, and Ayob Ibrahim.
Nasir’s majestic arangement of Kau Laksana Bulan brought out the sheer visual grandeur of watching a hundred musicians perform as one vast organism – in itself a mighty accomplishment, and a fitting acknowledgment of his late great father’s monumental contributions to contemporary Malaysian culture as an iconic singer-songwriter-actor-filmmaker of the 1960s.
Teguh, an original work by outstanding avant-garde composer Saidah Rastam, was a bold departure from the tried and tested. The music’s sonorously dissonant harmonics were poetically offset by a recitative sung with passion and verve by Khir Rahman. However, the orchestra sounded a mite tentative at moments and might have performed with more conviction and feel, given more rehearsal time than was possible under the circumstances.
Representing the richness of Sarawak’s “world music” resources, Narawi Rashidi’s Berserumpu featured young sapē virtuoso Jerry Kamit in an instrumental romp through a lush, metaphorical rainforest (alas, with all the lumber that’s been exported, not much of the real thing remains).
Yii Kah Hoe – young maestro of traditional Chinese music – composed, arranged and conducted an immensely interesting piece (unfortunately not listed in the souvenir program) which generated an uneasy dynamic tension even as it sought to integrate Chinese, Malay, Indian and Greco-Roman musical modalities. Perhaps Yii was simply being realistic in articulating the difficulty of fully reconciling the frequency differences between pentatonic, Moorish, Carnatic and Western musical scales. Yet, mysteriously enough, it did hang together as inspired music – despite strident altercations between reed instruments from different traditions (but, then, it’s always the wind instruments that represent ideological discord).
The concert’s high point was undoubtedly three numbers arranged and flamboyantly conducted by Ayob Ibrahim, featuring the legendary Ramli Sarip, fondly known as Papa Rock (from his heady days fronting the rock group, Sweet Charity), and the charismatic Zainal Abidin (who rose to fame as lead singer of Headwind, and subsequent international acclaim as a solo act).
Raspy-voiced Ramli’s phenomenal stage presence – but most of all his virile blend of earthiness and mystical ardor – lent the entire exercise in racial-harmony-through-music an authenticity and heartfelt warmth that more than justified Simfoni Rakyat Malaysia’s RM400,000 budget (a ballpark estimate I heard mentioned). His moving renditions of Kampong Rakit and Nyanyian Serambi (in which the indigenous Semai troupe were finally given a prominent vocal and rhythmic rôle) cut straight to the core and brought a tear of joy to many an eye. Conductor Ayob Ibrahim succeeded in making the huge and ethnomusically disparate orchestra sound like a very tight jazz-rock combo, generating an infectious and effortless groove.
Even a hardcore cynic would have felt a surge of loyalty and pride during Ramli Sarip’s authoritative and impassioned performance. And when Zainal Abidin belted out his greatest hit, Hijau, accompanied by smiling dancers waving daun pisang (banana leaves), nobody seriously minded that the production had veered dangerously close to definitive Bollywood kitsch.
The show really should have ended right there with this obligatory nod at cinta-ing our natural heritage… but, sadly, artistic director Sabri Buang was either too naïve or too docile to say a firm NO to attaching a truly tacky Malaysia Truly Asia as grand finale, thereby dashing any hopes that may have arisen in my heart that at long last our cultural bureaucrats have realised that if a woman is truly beautiful, it’s overkill and counterproductive to include the description “Beauty Queen” on her calling card.
10 March 2004