His exhibition in China was the third of its kind, after his masks were showcased in Korea and Singapore.

Narima’s masks are normally used in classical dance performances to reenact the stories of legendary figures Panji, Minak Jingo and Gunungsari.

But, with the influx of modern arts, classical masks and dances have become a rare sight.

“I have no intention of preserving the masks as I’m only a craftsman. It is the dancers who continue to wear them that should be thanked,” said Narimo, refusing to take any credit for conserving classical masks.

Born into a family of farmers, Narimo swore he wouldn’t follow in his father’s footsteps. As a child, he was already interested in the arts, especially in wayang kulit (leather puppets).

While his peers helped their parents with farming or work in the fields, Narimo spent his spare time painting and decorating puppets at his neighbor’s home.

“The puppets I practiced on were made of paper instead of leather. But, I was happy just working on replicas. I would slip out quietly to paint with the neighbor so my Dad wouldn’t get angry with me,” recalled the 45-year-old man.

Narimo’s father wasn’t too pleased with his son’s artistic leanings. He had taught him from an early age how to use a hoe, pick the right fertilizer and grow crops. “He used to say there was no money in the arts,” Narimo went on.

But, after finishing junior high school, Narimo loved wayang so much he left for Yogyakarta to
learn how to paint leather puppets from a dalang (puppet master), who was also a puppet painter.

Four years later, he turned to painting classical masks.

“At first I helped paint [masks] to meet orders, but gradually this art appealed to me and I was eager to learn,” said the man who now lives in Jatisobo village, Sukoharjo regency, Central Java.

From Yogyakarta, he returned to Surakarta to find a mentor. This is when Narimo met Bambang Suwarno, a classical mask expert and lecturer at the department of puppetry at the Indonesian Arts College (STSI) — now Indonesian Institute of Arts (ISI) — in Surakarta.

Narimo explained the craft of mask making wasn’t simply about cutting and chiseling wood, but also required learning about the history of classical masks, including the legends of Panji.

Actually, most classical masks end up in Panji stories, particularly in Central Java.

“By understanding the stories the masks tell, the creator will be familiar with the character of each figure crafted,” Narimo pointed out.

While serving as an apprentice crafter, Narimo furthered his studies at the Indonesian Classical
Music Vocational High School (SMKI), Surakarta, until he graduated in 1989.

“While most of my contemporaries earned college degrees, I was only graduating from SMKI,” added Narimo, now a civil servant at the Surakarta Cultural Center (TBS).

But, Narimo is the persevering type. Not only does he work hard, but he is also principled. He will, for instance, turn down orders for mass produced masks even if they pay well. In the view of this father of two, mass production comes at the expense of quality.

“I don’t work like a factory.

I cut, chisel, carve and paint wood for masks because I love doing the work. Crafting masks is my way of loving this highly refined art. It’s not just a matter of making money.”

No wonder Narimo’s works have earned him fanatic collectors. His classical masks can be found in
the private collections of Indonesia’s most distinguished artists like choreographer and dancer Didik Nini Thowok, gamelan specialist Rayahu Supanggah, Bagong Kussudiarjo’s dance studio and senior puppet master Ki Manteb Soedharsono. Several art institutes in Europe, Japan and Malaysia also keep his masks for educational and documentation purposes.

Most of Narimo’s masks represent characters from the legends of Panji such as Kelono, Dewi
Sekartaji, Panji Asmoro Bangun and the comedian pair Penthul-Tembem. Some also represent characters outside of Panji stories like Minak Jinggo, Damarwulan and Rojomolo.

In Surakarta, a number of Narimo’s large masks were erected on city corners. Made of fiberglass and measuring 2 meters high, the jumbo masks decorate parks on Jl. Slamet Riyadi in Ngarsopuro and around Manahan Stadium.

After almost 25 years of mask making, Narimo can now feel relieved. Orders for masks keep coming in, with Narimo completing between five and 10 a month.

“If I do more, the quality will suffer. That’s what I dislike,” added Narimo.

Orders come from Indonesia, but also Japan, Holland and the US. Collectors are known to have paid in the tens of millions of rupiah for his masks of Dewi Sekartaji and Panji Asmoro Bangun. His masks usually cost between Rp 300,000 (US$33.30) and Rp 5 million depending on their intricacy.

Narimo spends his days in the office and his evenings creating masks until midnight.

Many people have told him he should quit his day job since he can already support his family from his craft. But this advice falls on deaf ears.

“One shouldn’t judge everything in terms of money…. ” Narimo said.

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