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View all search resultsDJADUK FERIANTO: (JP/J
DJADUK FERIANTO: (JP/J. Adiguna)An hour before the interview starts Djaduk Ferianto joins the musicians seated in a corner of the Taman Ismail Marzuki arts center.
He has the ability to juice his productions with the energy of his cast and crew, and with the final dress rehearsal of Pengadilan Susila (Susila's Trial), comes wonder, warmth and excitement.
Pengadilan Susila -- which can also be translated as the Vice Court -- centers around the predicament of main character Susila the toy seller, who has been charged with baring his "man boobs" in public.
There is a reason for the unbuttoned shirt: Cancerous cells have invaded both Susila's breasts, causing them to swell uncomfortably.
Cowritten by Agus Noor and Ayu Utami, this satire of the ongoing deliberation of the bills on pornography is the latest production of the Yogyakarta-based company Teater Gandrik.
Midway through Thursday night's dress rehearsal, the stocky musician flitted backstage only to return seconds later in the guise of a typically fiery-yet-foolish policeman, the type who thinks of nothing but money.
Much to the audience's amusement, the policeman gave his armed troop orders to stamp out lewd behavior in public places -- including hunting down the (detached) "wandering genitals".
Aside from the booming voice, Djaduk couldn't be more different to the unprincipled policeman. He is a passionate and disciplined musician and performer.
"I fell in love with music at a tender age. Every day I watched my father and his dancers rehearse with the gamelan. For some reason I was drawn to the kendang (traditional drum) because it's powerful and takes the lead in the gamelan," said the father of five.
"After school I practiced playing kendang. I was lucky because my teacher was (renowned Javanese musician) Eyang Kanjeng, or Condrolukito, who was very knowledgeable, the best among his contemporaries."
As a boy, Djaduk was often sick, spending periods of time in hospital. Confined to his bed, he was captivated by wayang kulit (leather puppet) radio shows that featured music and narration -- leaving the rest up to the imagination.
"My radio never left my side, nor did my books about wayang. It was the only time I could fully absorb myself in wayang."
His love of the traditional Javanese arts, however, does not make him a traditionalist.
"I'm considered a rebel because purists regard me as breaking the mold (of traditional arts).
"I know there are people like me trying to make a new variation on traditional arts. There should be room for that too now," Djaduk said.
Even though he carries the famous name of his father, and had everything he needed to make music at his home in Bantul, Yogyakarta, Djaduk did not get his fame fed to him on a silver spoon.
Born on July 19 1964, Djaduk often found himself at odds with his father, the legendary dancer Bagong Kussudiardjo, and for years they were not on speaking terms. But any animosity that was between them had long since melted away when Bagong died in 2004.
"My father wanted me to be a dancer like him, I wanted to be a musician. Well, of course, I learned traditional dances and joined his productions a couple of times when I was a kid -- because I had to. But I always rebelled and that made my father even angrier," he said.
"My father often pelted a thick leather sandal at me when I was 9 or 10, whenever his nap was disrupted."
Our differences spread to other things, he said.
Djaduk studied fine arts and design at the Yogyakarta Arts Institute for a few years before dropping out, most likely because he was distracted by his constant exploration of sounds and ideas.
Unlike many other musicians of his generation, Djaduk keeps an open mind about experiments in music and in the arts.
"With the present-day backdrop of pop culture, the mainstream music industry might not be willing to take a chance on experimental music, but that's really not my dream. I am quite aware of the consequences and never feel lonely with that position. Our gigs are packed. People enjoy our music and look forward to our next production," said Djaduk, who has his own recording studio.
To Djaduk, music is universal sans sekat or the divisions that exist in the music industry.
"For musicians it's always good to be able to see through the barriers put up by the music industry. If necessary, it's best to crash through those barriers and learn to appreciate one another. Ideally, there is no (position of) superiority in music."
Djaduk said he had been astounded in his youth when musicians sneered at other musicians who were making money doing jingles. "Playing the slut", is the term that was used for those who went commercial.
"But I was intrigued and eventually accepted an offer to make a three-minute ad. It wasn't as easy as it looked. In fact it was harder than composing my own music because I had to accommodate other people's ideas," he said.
Djaduk is also a cofounder of Kua Etnika, an organization that supports young experimental musicians. With the group, Djaduk frequently travels aboard to perform his compositions.
Through Kua Etnika, Djaduk hopes youngsters will learn to appreciate a wider range of music.
"In May, one of our younger members will hold a sort of recital. He will coordinate the concert and we'll be the players."
Djaduk's willingness to take risks has helped him achieve stardom, although his name -- like it or not -- will always be linked with that of his father and of his older brother, Butet Kertaradjasa.
"My brother and I have gone through thick and thin together. He's my playmate and we often collaborate.
"We cover up for each other's weaknesses and share men's secrets. But we respect our respective professional territories. Check out Gandrik's members, we're like cats and dogs during rehearsals; there is always fighting and drama."
Butet is celebrated as an actor and comedian who has the habit of rubbing the authorities up the wrong way.
Djaduk is married to a singer, Petra, whom he met when he was commissioned to coordinate the country's cultural performance in the 1988 Seoul Olympics, and married in early 1990.
Their children -- I Gusti Arirang, K Ratu Hening, G Presiden Dewadana, K Nyari Bunyi, E Rajane Tetabuhan -- have all taken a shine to music.
"My eldest daughter loves classical music and plays the piano, while her sister loves Bjork, Linkin' Park -- that kind of music. They're free to follow their desires and I enjoy being part of their explorations too, because it enriches me in the end."
Djaduk is seemingly modeling his parenting style after his father's.
"My father was an artist, but very disciplined and in a way very militaristic. He had a strict exercise regime, dieted and took good care of his body. I don't think I could outdo him," he said, pausing to gather his thoughts.
"My father and I went through a really bad patch, but we managed to put it behind us when he fell ill. In his own way, I know he finally approved of my decision to make music,"
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