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Song in the Sumatran Highlands

Resource: Erlinda 1999

Erlinda, 1999. Kehadiran Wanita dalam Musik Malam (Saluang dan Dendang) di Minangkabau Sumatera Barat. Laporan Penelitian. ASKI.

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Gender of Padendang 8 Explores the gender shift within padendang image_header 2021-08-03T13:54:30+00:00
The sound of her voice, the feelings she expresses, and the haunting melody of the bamboo flute, following her in unison like a devoted lover, float through the night. Sometimes the emotion hangs heavily in the air drawing the heart to the sound. At these times, heads bow...It's about 2 A.M. The female singers, sitting in the Minangkabau way with legs to the side, face the by now mainly male audience on a low, open-air stage. Their heads are bowed so as not to lock eyes with the male gaze as they sing their innermost thoughts.. Field notes, 1997 Sanday 2002: 149
If one were to attend a saluang performance anytime in the last 20 to 30 years, one might assume that padendang have always been people who identify and are identified as women (a note about the use of gendered terms in this project) because men are infrequent participants, if not entirely absent, as vocalists during this time. Writing in 2002, Peggy Sanday, quoted above, writes of a world where it seems that padendang were always women, that the relationship between voice and saluang is a fundamentally gendered one. But it is important to know that the genre has not always been gendered in this way, where tukang saluang identify as men and the padendang identify as women. In the past, in the first half of the twentieth century, all performers identified as men. But even that statement obscures the true history. All the professional singers--those who sang in public, in front of crowds, and received fiscal payment for their services--were men. The singers we know about from the first half of the twentieth century are all men, probably because they were recognized as the professionals.

But there are stories--and even documentary evidence in the form of commercial 78 r.p.m. records--that illustrate women did sing: just not in public venues in front of audiences that included men. Adriyetti Amir, for examples, writes that it was common practice for women to sing "quatrains [i.e. pantun] while doing other work", explaining:
Usually women working in the paddy fields, whether planting or harvesting paddy [rice] sing sad, sarcastic, or erotic quatrains. They sing without the accompaniment of instruments. They sing to overcome tiredness. They are unpaid. They can exchange quatrains with almost anyone who passes near their working area; but usually they do not sing about people whom they respect, like their religious teacher, pangulu, or their matrilineal family's sumando .... (Amir 1995:31)
Amir continues to explain that men also sang in informal work contexts, but only "while relaxing during lunch and after the noon prayers (zohor). Sometimes they do bring along the saluang, then they will sing either quatrains [pantun] that are created spontaneously or quatrains that are commonly known" (Amir 1995:31). This information suggests that singing pantun was a common Minangkabau past time for both women and men. It is not clear, however, what songs were used, and if those tunes were affiliated with the genre of saluang we know today. I suspect there is cross-over in the repertoire, that the tunes are mutual. To be clear, in discussing the gender of padendang in saluang throughout this site, I am referring to the professionalized saluang scene, unless otherwise specified.
This issue about gender and performing in public has to be understood within the context of Minangkabau values, especially according to the principles of adat (complex set of cultural practices most frequently glossed as “custom” and “tradition”). In the past, it was considered entirely inappropriate for a woman to be out late at night in front of men, especially those who were not related to her. In the Minangkabau matrilineal system, a woman’s mamak, her maternal uncle, not her father, was tasked with policing and managing her morality, making sure no harm was done to the family reputation. Permission to depart from these mores should be granted by the mamak.
The first generation of professional female padendang were trailblazers, breaking the glass ceiling, at great risk to their person and to the reputation of themselves and their family. There are stories of these women being personally threatened with a gun, maintained by authorities, questioned and shunned. I even heard a story once of a woman being killed by a jealous husband. It’s very hard to fathom just how difficult it would have been for the first generation of women, the stigma they would have had to overcome, both amongst audiences at the time and within the broader society. Needless to say, these women would have been extremely talented and knowledgeable to be accepted within professional circuits, not just among audiences but especially among fellow performers. For the first generation of women, their participation was possible though one of two mechanisms: they sang under the disguise of presenting themselves as a man or they were supervised by a close male relative, either their mamak or their husband. For some, like Nurana, the economic gains--the possibility of making a livelihood--was the motivating factor.
This history of saluang is critically important. There is no other genre in West Sumatra to my knowledge in which women not only became equal participants as singers (participation as instrumentalist is entirely different) but actually came to thoroughly displace their male counterparts. Nobody wants to hear male padendang these days, which speaks more to why some pagurau are interested in saluang now compared with the past. Go here to follow that story.
Putting together this history is like being a detective, scouring what resources exist in the historical record, essentially research produced by people affiliated with Institut Seni Indonesia, and putting together pieces of the puzzle. The historical record is spotty, the information as complete as what is found in those records, amplified with ethnographic interviews with singers like Syamsimar, Mak Ajis, and Mak Sawir who were involved back then in 60s and have since passed, or the oldest generation participating today, like Te E who started singing in the 70s.
It’s a history that deserves to be better known. We share what we have come across here but welcome contributions to enhance the record: dates, stories, and especially photos.
Continue on in this path to read about the stories of the first professional female padendang.
Resources:
- Adriyetti Amir 1995
- Erlinda 1999
- Erlinda 2001
- Peggy Sanday 2002
People: Nurana 5 Nurana was the first known female padendang. plain 2021-03-02T21:21:07+00:00 -0.17912, 100.68161
Role: Padendang, Composer (Nijon identified Nurana as a "pencipta dendang," creator of dendang, in Mardjani et. al.)
Sex: Female
Time Frame: Historical figure. In an interview with Erlinda,
when asked if there was any female padendang before her, she answered that as far as she knew there was no-one (1999: 45).
- In other words, Nurana is the first known professional female padendang.
Born: @1930
Died: unknown, before 2015.
Place: Batu Balang
Years active: approx. mid-1940s-1990s. She said she started singing as a teenager (Erlinda)
Training: she learned by ear, then participating in randai. It's also possible that her mamak, Mone, was a singer. See biography.
Performed with: she mentions that she sang with another female padendang, Sarinam, who was blind.
Other Notes: She was also a trader of limes
Source: Mardjani et. al.; Erlinda 1999; Erlinda 2001.
Story: Dayu, a singer who disguised herself as a man 3 Dayu's story plain 2021-03-16T21:05:51+00:00
Dayu (see her brief biographical page) was Ani Aia Angek’s mother. We know about her through Erlinda’s interview with Ani (2001:71-72). According to Ani, her mother was a talented singer, but she was “not a tukang dendang or professional padendang.” Nobody knew the name “Dayu” as someone that sang. According to Ani, her mother didn’t sing in any of the places known for saluang performances, limiting her participation to intimate settings in a private house with just a handful of people. She was not specifically invited nor was she paid for these appearances (we can surmise, therefore, that these are two markers of professional status), but she sang for the pleasure of her penggemar (devotees). Moreover, her appearance was made possible because her husband, Bujang Bagindo Marajo, was a tukang saluang and he would always accompany her. Finally, Dayu appeared dressed as a man. Erlinda suggests that this was an indication that Dayu knew it was not appropriate for a woman to sing in public at the time, but that she found a way that she was able to participate (Erlinda 2001: 71-72). Further evidence of this position could be taken in Dayu’s opposition and reluctance to her daughter, Ani, becoming a padendang (Erlinda 2001: 72).
Interpretation: This is a fascinating story. I wonder how successful Dayu was in her cross-dressing. Were fans oblivious or aware and brushed it off? At the very least, it speaks to ideas about gender roles within saluang and the lengths women needed to go to pass and participate at any level.
Resources
- Erlinda 1999
- Erlinda 2001
People: Sarinam Role: Padendang
Sex: Female
Time Frame: Historical figure
Place: Payokumbuah
Relationships: Performed with Nurana: see Nurana's biography for more details.
Other: according to the information relayed by Nurana, Sarinam was blind. It makes sense, therefore, that she would seek to earn a living through singing as there would have been few other avenues open to her.
Source: Erlinda 1999
Story: Ani Angek, one of the first professional female padendang 2 Ani Angek's story plain 2021-03-19T17:55:54+00:00
Although Ani’s mother, Dayu, was not known in the saluang world under her name, she was a capable singer. Ani acknowledges that “her ability or expertise as a pendendang is a legacy from her mother,” but she “never directly learned dendang from her mother” (Erlinda 2001:71-2). Given that her father, Bujang Bagindo Marajo, was a tukang saluang, it seems likely she picked up knowledge from him, too. Her mother, at least, was reluctant for Ani to become a padendang, but, as explained in Erlinda, Ani considered it “her destiny.” Two more distant relatives of Ani, who functioned as “mamak jauh” (a term referring to a more distant role of guardianship) were tukang saluang: Undai Sidi Bagindo and Anduang Hitam. They taught Ani to sing and took her along with them to the saluang shows. This, as Erlinda emphasizes, is contrary to Minangkabau norms; typically “a mamak will strictly prohibit if his niece becomes a saluang singer, an entertainer for the public at night, because such women [out at night] are seen as having bad morals and will be made into play things by men.” But these two mamak of Ani’s resisted these negative views, making sure to “watch and protect Ani from the views and actions of others.” Their acceptance of, and support for, Ani singing in public helped, Erlinda implies, shift societal attitudes (2002:72). Although Ani performed under their watch, she went in secrecy, her appearances shielded from the knowledge of her mamak kandung, the man ultimately responsible for her. When Zainuddin, her mamak kanduang, learned of her behavior, he “strongly scolded and forbade Ani [from participating]," threatening her with a gun. According to the narrative presented in Erlinda, that did little to deter Ani: “she did not think the job was wrong, [nor] did it violate her morals as a woman.” Afterall, she wasn’t going to the shows “with any random person, but with her distant mamak who [were also] responsible for the good name of their niece.” When Zainuddin learned that she persisted, he had her detained by the wali nagari (head of the nagari) for a day. This still did not discourage her and she overcame familial resistance to become a padendang (Erlinda 2001:73).

The narrative then discusses how she started appearing in public in 1961. She was in high demand, performing for 20 consecutive days. “According to Ani,” Erlinda relates, “those conditions were very tiring, but she was happy and liked it.” Her career took off from there. She was active as a singer until the 1990s, participating in commercial recordings. Even in the 1990s, despite her “advanced age,” she would still accept requests, but by the time of the interview with Erlinda in 1998, when Ani was almost 70, she had ceased to sing (Erlinda 2001:73-74).

Biographical Page: Ani Aia Angek

Resources:
- Erlinda 1999
- Erlinda 2001