langkawi magazine

Culture SECTION

Langkawi Batik with Soul

Curiously, there is no signature on the painting, just `Atma Alam`, the name of the gallery. ``Oh, `Kak` (elder sister) Ros doesn't sign her work,`` the salesgirl says. `Kak Ros` is Roshadah Yusoff, the unassuming owner-manager of the batik gallery that has become something of an institution in Langkawi. She is busy at the workshop, working on three paintings at once. The trademark swirling colours of batik are very much in evidence in the paintings. One is of heliconias, another is of a dragon, and a third is more abstract something about Earth, Fire, Water, Air. ``I like to do abstracts it's the spontaneity, and we can play with batik`s crinkle effect to make it look more detailed,`` she explains. ``And we don`t stick to strictly Malay motifs, as some of our customers are Europeans, Arabs, and Indians.`` Ros says it takes her a week to do a painting -- that`s before fixing, washing, drying, sewing. ``It`s a dilemma: we have to make it attractive enough to sell, but we can`t spend too much time on one piece.`` A multicoloured piece represents a lot more work than a single or two-colour piece. A little of her passion has rubbed off on her apprentices; they have become competent enough to to do their own design, with advice from Ros and Aza.

Despite her managerial duties, Ros still finds the time to do her own fixing, washing, boiling and cleaning. Sixteen-hour days are nothing new to her, she says. ``I come from a poor background, at 10 I was already helping my mother to sell nasi lemak.`` So how did she get started in batik? "I came here in 1987 from the big city to follow my artist husband,`` she says. ``When the children were growing up I had to stop my hotel job and think of something. I was already doing sewing, and nobody was doing batik then. I learnt design from my husband, from reading, from observing what people wear.`` She also visits textile shows in Jakarta, China, Delhi, or Bangkok. The local batik industry, she laments, is being killed off by cheap Indonesian imports. ``Local batik tulis and batik blok is better,`` she says. ``Our designs are not static, unlike those of our tradition-bound Indonesian counterparts.`` Yet she is aware she is fighting a difficult battle. ``We cooperate with local batik makers to promote made-in-Malaysia batik, we want to revive the local batik industry,`` she says. ``But it`s hard, even in Kelantan they are doing silk-screen, and Malaysians don`t know how to appreciate their own hand-made products, all they want is something cheap."

While waiting for the paint to dry, Ros excuses herself to go to the kitchen. She has to check if the cheesecake and bread she has just baked is ready. It`s to be sold at the Dolce Vita Art Cafe that husband Aza Osman has just opened at Oriental Village. Aza`s oil paintings, as well as those of his friends`, are shown in the gallery next to the workshop but thoughts other than producing art are on his mind today. ``We are batik painters involved in business so we maintain the environment, we retain the traditional decor unlike other batik shops which have gone `modern`,`` he says. ``We plough back our profits into beautifying the environment around us the land scaped garden, gallery, extensions. `` We want to hand over the business to our children so it becomes a heritage thing. We want to diversify into other art-related projects, maybe combine dance, painting, and fashion under one roof.`` (A daughter is training in dance in Bali, another is studying fashion in Shanghai, while son Aidid hosts a youth programme on tv). Atma Alam may be a small family business, but it has big dreams. In sticking to a hard-won traditional skill and conducting their business with grace and trust, Ros and Aza have given a dying cottage industry a shot in the arm. And in a world increasingly dominated by machines, they do it with a dash of Atma soul.

Langkawi 1/11/2003