From 1978 – 1988, my relationship to Indonesia was limited to Bali. That would change soon and drastically. Again, a mere accident caused the consequence that in 1988, I was able to tour in Southeast Asia (with a focus on Indonesia) via the Goethe Institut in order to present my music. I was accompanied by a six-piece ensemble, consisting of young but committed musicians (students) which I had selected from my university. The tour – which in the weeks before was almost about to fail – became a big success and was completely opposite to the negative expectations of almost all people involved. After all, it was contemporary music! Beside the high quality of my ensemble (they had practiced half a year and almost played without parts like a gamelan ensemble) but also my ability to moderate the concerts and workshops in Bahasa played a significant role. Moreover, I got in touch with all those academic institutions for art education like ISI-Yogyakarta or ASTI-Bandung [16], and also many leading Indonesian artists including Slamet A. Sjukur, Suka Hardjana, Harry Roesli, and Rahayu Supanggah. It was a completely new environment and a different scene. I had experienced Bali as a so-called traditional but continuously growing and changing society with all its facets. Despite many negative aspects of tourism, modern development has not left behind any serious damages, except in the geo-political area. But now I was confronted with modern urban Indonesia, with the nation as a whole, its role in the international exchange of forces, and with the problem of cultural diversity. A new encompassing background for my coming work and behaviour was born: the ternary network of forces of traditional culture, national obligations and international influences that still permeates every realm of life. These experiences had been quite new for me because in Germany – I have to admit – until that time, I had not been politically active. Beside my teaching obligation at the University of Music, Freiburg, as a composer and as leader of a Balinese gamelan group, starting in 1988, my occupation with culture and policy in context with Indonesia received a new and central rank in my activities.

Two two-month projects in 1988 and 1989 provided new experiences for me, and hopefully also for the participating Indonesians. Both projects ended with two collaborative concerts that were open to the public. Although my experiences were positive, it became clear to me through this work that collaboration, if taken seriously, is not as easy as one might at first expect. The reasons are manifold. Beside the obvious administrative obstacles, problems can be traced back to a fundamental contradiction. Given the immense diversity and vibrancy of local art forms, the number of art academies is low. Consequently, the few art academies cultivate a kind of elite consciousness. At the same time, the status of these institutions becomes more marginal year by year because the interest of the Indonesian public is continuously decreasing (this is true perhaps with the single exception of Bali).

Unfortunately, nobody at these academies likes to talk about this issue openly. Further, a kind of dichotomy is developing, with an indifferent public on the one side and a strong determination among artists to be significant and successful on their own terms on the other.

Many Indonesian musicians insist without compromise on the unchangeable tradition and categorically refuse anything else. Some others try to adapt themselves in a popular manner, either via more tourism-oriented activities or via music forms that are more market-orientated. No wonder Pop Sunda is one of the most nationally popular music genres.

Only a few artists are searching for new paths. These new paths are those of high esteem in intellectual circles and outside Indonesia, but almost no one can earn a living from this kind of creative work in their own country. In Indonesia and in most other Southeast Asian countries there is no subsidized cultural system as there is, for example, in Germany.[17] Furthermore, such artists are not celebrated by society in Indonesia as much as they are in Germany. In this regard, the situation of other Southeast Asian countries is sometimes better. In Thailand in particular I have witnessed better national support and a more intensive ‘pervasion’ of art academies into the society. This important field of work, involving both cultural policy and the role of mass-media, merits more attention.

On the other hand, the idea of an “artistic mission” is quite a Western concept. This idea is rooted in the romantic consciousness of the nineteenth century. Its central characteristic is the individual urge to express one’s self, either in form of typical Romantic ideas or in the sense of a critical reflection of the current time, or even as a vision into the future, as can be found beginning in the early twentieth century with composers such as Stefan Wolpe and Hanns Eisler. A concept of so- called critical composition is connected with the latter, and was used recently by composers such as Mauricio Kagel, Helmut Lachenmann, Nikolaus A. Huber and Matthias Spahlinger. Such concepts were quite alien for most Indonesians, at least until the early twenty-first century.

The situation in fine arts, literature and theatre is different. These art forms are generally more political. Even in Europe, music was always slightly behind the development of the other artforms. This may be due to the high degree of abstraction in music. And, if one leaves that abstract realm in favour of agitation, the step to agitprop, or even pure state art found in totalitarian nations, is obvious. In other words, most musicians in Southeast Asia are less political. People like Harry Roesli in Indonesia are the exception [18]. To my knowledge, the only country where contemporary music has a strong political streak is the Philippines. A significant amount of José Maceda’s, Ramon Santos’ and Jonas Baes’ work cannot be separated from their cultural political engagement. It should come as no surprise to those familiar with Jonas Baes’ work to learn that he studied with Matthias Spahlinger.

In Indonesia, the situation is quite different from the Philippines. Conflict has to be seriously questioned because, at least on the surface, Indonesian society is consensus-oriented. This is an issue that, since 1989, has caused me endless difficulties as both a composer and music educator working in Indonesia.

In the following paragraphs, I draw on my experiences from 1992 to 2007, with a particular focus on 1992 to 1995, when I worked at UPI Bandung as a DAAD (Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst, “German Academic Exchange Service”) lecturer, to elucidate cultural differences between Europe and Southeast Asia.[19] My intention here is not to be a judge but to attempt to question and examine the issue with an eye to addressing the challenges of musical and cultural exchange. I believe that this matter merits further consideration both in Indonesia and Southeast Asian more broadly. [20]

Argument as a mode of communication and as a motor for progress is a typical feature of intellectual life in Europe. It is perhaps only understandable as an outgrowth of European cultural history. Foundational features of Western culture, such as scientific progress and Western understanding of democracy, are strongly

connected to that history. Could one imagine the style of a German parliament debate in Indonesia? I think not. There would be a significant uproar all over the country if this were attempted. This does not mean, however, that our social manners are immune from criticism. My intention here is only to highlight the differences.

A composition of Karlheinz Stockhausen, for example, is only fully understandable if one has knowledge of the cultural and historical development of middle-European culture. Progress is also not only the invention of something new. It also implies the critical evaluation and questioning of possible implications. Sometimes it is necessary for things to be turned back, and I regret that in the West a lot of necessary and acknowledged turn-backs have not taken place recently. This is especially true with respect to environmental issues.21 A positivistic attitude regarding all novelty is dangerous. The culture of critical exchange, debate and argument has therefore been developed to serve as a kind of controlling institution. Unfortunately, this European system does not work as well as it could all the time. [22]

The situation in Indonesia is different. On the one hand, Indonesia wants to participate in the “cake of modernity” but it wants to grab hold of it within a fraction of time that the West has needed. However, there is not yet enough of the control mechanism of causal argument in operation. Such debate and argument does take place between some intellectuals, and their numbers are growing. But the old consensus culture, a more phenomenological consciousness as opposed to a causal one, hierarchic moments dating from feudal times (or today called the Bapak-principle), the importance of the representative etc. remain dominant in Indonesia. All these factors, which in various traditional contexts have meaning and importance, hamper a critical evaluation of the targets for the future that have been formulated. In other words, the whole cultural framework and the conditions

under which such targets have been developed in their cultures of origin (Europe and America) and which may function only there (or not, see above!) are not taken enough into consideration. Without a critical approach, the material results themselves are nonetheless mostly adapted and sanctioned.

I will now provide some specific examples. Let us start with the idea that language, or the use of language, is a kind of reflection culture. I became aware over the years and in my work teaching, giving seminars, and writing articles and books in Bahasa, Indonesia, of some interesting facts. Temporal relations and causal connections are very difficult to articulate precisely in Indonesian. When I tried to express these things, I was often told that my Indonesian is not good enough. But when I insisted on a precise argument, it became clear in many cases that I did not produce grammatical mistakes. The problem was the form of expression itself.

A teacher’s paper about ethnomusicology at ISI-Yogyakarta who had been in a Master-program “Performing Arts” at UGM (Universitas Gajah Mada Yogyakarta) had the title: “Aesthetics of Balinese Music.” [23] The paper starts with a rough description of European history of aesthetics from Alexander g. Baumgarten, via Johann J. Winckelmann until Immanuel Kant (read: mostly philosophers of the 18th century). The introduction ended interestingly with a digression to Augustinus and Thomas von Aquin. Their principles then became the starting point for further investigations. It struck me as strange that European theoreticians were presented, given that the topic was Balinese music. But more problematic was the way time and temporality were treated by the author.

Let us now turn from time to causality, which is a closely related concept. Causality implies a linear understanding of time. But such an understanding is relatively unimportant in Indonesian culture. History is rarely understood as causal (including all raptures) or as a linear sequence of events. Rather it is understood as an encompassing bowl of events. [24]

Consequently, the Indonesian language tends to lend itself more towards statements free from causal relations or causal chains of argument. This is especially evident in so-called penelitian (research) at universities, where penelitian kuantitatif (quantitative research) – mostly statistic comparisons with complex formulas – dominate. The external form and shape of the paper is more important than the content. A fantastic music analysis done in the late 1990s by a teacher that I supervised which, after many revisions, was signified by causal arguments and actually could not be written differently, was rejected by the official evaluation institution (lembaga penelitian) with the comment that it was not scientific enough.

However, today the situation seems to have improved. Criticism and feedback tend to be more individual, and novel approaches and expressions are more tolerated. I am convinced that this is mostly due to the increasing number of unique projects in the Southeast Asian region, especially seen at competitions and festivals, as well as, for example, the annual international symposiums at PGVIM. Such events create an ongoing exchange and argument, if one does not want to dive into post-modern arbitrariness. I strongly support the continuation of such events wherever they are possible.

The activities discussed above have been my work in Indonesia over the last 20 years, and also my occupation in other Southeast Asian countries. I have asked myself almost daily whether my point of view is correct. Or do I inappropriately intrude too much into the affairs of others? In most cases, I have come to the conclusion that my involvement is no interference in a negative sense. Rather my understanding is one of being a catalyst; an agent that unravels the incredible potential of the region, a potential that, when realized, is an important contribution to the world outside of Southeast Asia. Individualism, collectivism and the ability to engage in discourse and argument are all closely linked, and this connection should be examined independent from any specific culture. Cultural differences are found more in the substance of exchange and discourse and less in the concept.