DOI issue:
September 16, 1882
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17753#0140
132
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[September 16, 1882,
JAVA REDUCED TO JELLY.
(By our Chaffanese Young Man.)
Zazel and the Tattooed Greek Nobleman have given place at the
Royal Westminster Aquarium to “ the Javanese Gamelan.” They
are now exhibiting in the annexe, over the tank in which Miss
Beckwith was wont to pass her monotonous days, floating slowly
round and round to the dance-music of a cottage-piano. Apparently,
to judge from the “Notes compiled for the Private Rehearsal” of these
Ladies and Gentlemen, the only person who knows anything about
them is Sir Stamfokd Raffles, and even the knowledge of this
world-renowned celebrity has its limits. “ Raffles,” (as the Notes
familiarly call Sir Stamford) in an “address to the Batavian
Society,” admitted that language was his chief obstacle to learning
their history. “ Dutch, and Europeans generally, communicate with
them through ignorant interpreters, and these themselves speaking a
much mixed-up and corrupt language, intercommunication becomes
doubly difficult.” However, the baffled “ Raffles,” seemingly,
discovered that the chief poems of the Javanese were the Wayang
Purwo and the Wayang Gedog, which ‘ ‘ are held by the Javanese of
the present day in about the same estimation as the Iliad and
Odyssey of Homer are by Europeans.” No doubt the “obstacle”
already alluded to stood in the way of a thorough comprehension of
these classics, so “Raffles” (or the Compiler of the Notes) is only
able to testify “to the power of the language, and the genius of the
Poet, ” with the discouraging qualification, “ as far as we can judge
from the partial translations which have been made from them
through the medium of the modern Javanese.” It is to witness a
performance of the Wayang Par wo and Wayang Gedog that the
British Public are invited by the Management to come to the West-
minster Aquarium.
The troop consists of about a dozen Men and four young Women—
the latter, seemingly, to judge from their appearance, not even now too
old to join a junior-class in a preparatory infant school. The men
of the party were seated in front of what appeared to be a number of
covered saucepans. In the centre was a lad with a two-striaged
The Dance.
The Band.
fiddle, playing carefully out of tune. Occasionally the other per-
formers thumped the lids of their saucepans. After listening to the
“ music ” for three minutes, it is easy to believe the Compiler of the
Notes “that there is no notation for Javanese music, and in the
absence of any published study of the musical system, it is difficult
to say what it is.” As a guess, one might venture to suggest that
the “ music ” resembles the noise made by the kitchen utensils of a
Margate steamer in a storm, relieved by the distant knell of a ceme-
tery bell out of repair.
The Wayang Purwo was being performed. Three of the young
Women were stalking round the stage in a circle, occasionally nod-
ding their heads and moving their hands up and down, as if they
were making some preliminary flourishes before performing a con-
juring trick. This continued for a few minutes, when they were
joined by a Gentleman in a flannel shirt and a bath towel. The
flannel shirt had linen wristbands, and the gentleman wore a Euro-
pean watch and chain. _ Here it may be remarked that the costumes
generally were disappointing. _ The circular convening the meeting
had promised that_ the clothing “would interest those who give
attention to aesthetic dress.” . However, there was nothing parti-
cularly aesthetic or interesting in a wardrobe equally suggestive of the
cast-off garments of an economical provincial Othello who had “ to
find his own dresses/’ and the contents of the shop of a cheap hosier
attempting to establish himself, not very successfully, in a back
street near the Fulham Road. But this is a detail. The Ladies
continued their prowl, and the Gentleman, turning his back upon
them, assumed attitudes, now reminding one of the Courier oij
St. Petersburg in a Circus, and now of a nipped-in-the-bud Nigger
breakdown. The Ladies occasionally screamed, and finally joined,
hands in twos and twos. Then a couple leisurely sat down, while
the others continued their monotonous walk alone. By this time the
Gentleman was exhausted. So he wiped his face, looked at his
watch, and motioned “the orchestra” to stop their clatter. Thus
ended the Wayang Purwo.
At the Private Rehearsal here came a pause for refreshments,
when those present were offered “chicken and champagne.” The
Javanese, however, did not join in the collation, their modest wants
being fully satisfied by a few pots of beer. Then came the per-
formance of the Wayang Gedog, which might be aptly translated,.
as “it is taken from the history of Panje, the most renowned
hero of Java story”
(again the Notes
are quoted), as the
Wayward Sly Dog.
Three Ladies, once
more keeping time
to the music of
the saucepans and
screech-fiddle,
began their mono-
tonous stroll. Anew
Gentleman, whose
“aesthetic dress”
consisted of a white
cook’s jacket and
brown cloth un-
mentionables (as
what they exactly
were—I mean what
he exactly wore—I
am unable to des-
cribe), joined them.
He moved forward very deliberately, with steps measuring
some three inches a-piece, until he approached close to one of the
Ladies. Then he leisurely chucked her under the chin, and slowly
retired. This “doggish ” manoeuvre was repeated two or three times,
and the Wayang Gedog, described in the programme as “the true
Oriental Dance of rhythmic movements (commonly known as the
Nautch) ” was over. To the Philistine accustomed to a very different
measure (watched at the Pantomime houses), it appeared neither
“ Nauchty ” nor nice !
The performers, both players and dancers, seemed extremely
good-natured, and. smiled occasionally, apparently moved to mild
mirth at the rapt attention given by the audience to their feeble efforts-
at Terpsichorean tomfoolery. In the circular it was explained that
“the usual caste scruples which prevent many Orientals leaving
their native land, do not apply in this case, as these natives of Java
are descendants of those who were driven to embrace Mahometanism.”
This little piece of information was all the more interesting,, as the
ancestors of these natives (to quote from the Notes) “were com-
pelled at the sword’s point to embrace Mahometanism in 1374.” Or
more than five hundred years ago !
To sum up. The exhibition is dull in the extreme, and a single
visit will be enough [if, indeed, not more than enough) to satisfy
the most inveterate of sightseers. It is true that one of those
present at the Private Rehearsal expressed his opinion that “the
dancing was too good for the public,” and another that “ the
orchestra” were playing “some excellent concerted music.” In
spite of all this, however, a last quotation of the programme is
desirable. Says the programme, “Ethnologists, Musicians, and
Art-Connoisseurs will find this visit of Javanese affords an unusually
favourable opportunity for study.” This is quite true, as the
attractiveness of the Gamelan is unlikely to divert the attention of
Ethnologists, Musicians, and Art-Connoisseurs from the study of—
something else !
Real Police Intelligence!
This is the sort of person whom the
Police saw loafing about for weeks, and
never watched because they “ thought
he was a betting man ! ” About as
close a resemblance as he bears to St.
| Leger himself.
ETIQUETTE FOR FRENCH DUEL-
LISTS.
(Toprevent awkward accidents.)
M. le Baron Box. Can you fight.
Sir ?
M. le Comte de Cox. No, Sir !
M. le Barori Box. Then don’t
come on!
Ti Whiti, the New Zealand
Prophet, in whom the Maori Chiefs
are so much interested, must be
the Prophet one sees at the Opera
—in the Stalls, of course. Lots-
of Ti Whiteties there.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[September 16, 1882,
JAVA REDUCED TO JELLY.
(By our Chaffanese Young Man.)
Zazel and the Tattooed Greek Nobleman have given place at the
Royal Westminster Aquarium to “ the Javanese Gamelan.” They
are now exhibiting in the annexe, over the tank in which Miss
Beckwith was wont to pass her monotonous days, floating slowly
round and round to the dance-music of a cottage-piano. Apparently,
to judge from the “Notes compiled for the Private Rehearsal” of these
Ladies and Gentlemen, the only person who knows anything about
them is Sir Stamfokd Raffles, and even the knowledge of this
world-renowned celebrity has its limits. “ Raffles,” (as the Notes
familiarly call Sir Stamford) in an “address to the Batavian
Society,” admitted that language was his chief obstacle to learning
their history. “ Dutch, and Europeans generally, communicate with
them through ignorant interpreters, and these themselves speaking a
much mixed-up and corrupt language, intercommunication becomes
doubly difficult.” However, the baffled “ Raffles,” seemingly,
discovered that the chief poems of the Javanese were the Wayang
Purwo and the Wayang Gedog, which ‘ ‘ are held by the Javanese of
the present day in about the same estimation as the Iliad and
Odyssey of Homer are by Europeans.” No doubt the “obstacle”
already alluded to stood in the way of a thorough comprehension of
these classics, so “Raffles” (or the Compiler of the Notes) is only
able to testify “to the power of the language, and the genius of the
Poet, ” with the discouraging qualification, “ as far as we can judge
from the partial translations which have been made from them
through the medium of the modern Javanese.” It is to witness a
performance of the Wayang Par wo and Wayang Gedog that the
British Public are invited by the Management to come to the West-
minster Aquarium.
The troop consists of about a dozen Men and four young Women—
the latter, seemingly, to judge from their appearance, not even now too
old to join a junior-class in a preparatory infant school. The men
of the party were seated in front of what appeared to be a number of
covered saucepans. In the centre was a lad with a two-striaged
The Dance.
The Band.
fiddle, playing carefully out of tune. Occasionally the other per-
formers thumped the lids of their saucepans. After listening to the
“ music ” for three minutes, it is easy to believe the Compiler of the
Notes “that there is no notation for Javanese music, and in the
absence of any published study of the musical system, it is difficult
to say what it is.” As a guess, one might venture to suggest that
the “ music ” resembles the noise made by the kitchen utensils of a
Margate steamer in a storm, relieved by the distant knell of a ceme-
tery bell out of repair.
The Wayang Purwo was being performed. Three of the young
Women were stalking round the stage in a circle, occasionally nod-
ding their heads and moving their hands up and down, as if they
were making some preliminary flourishes before performing a con-
juring trick. This continued for a few minutes, when they were
joined by a Gentleman in a flannel shirt and a bath towel. The
flannel shirt had linen wristbands, and the gentleman wore a Euro-
pean watch and chain. _ Here it may be remarked that the costumes
generally were disappointing. _ The circular convening the meeting
had promised that_ the clothing “would interest those who give
attention to aesthetic dress.” . However, there was nothing parti-
cularly aesthetic or interesting in a wardrobe equally suggestive of the
cast-off garments of an economical provincial Othello who had “ to
find his own dresses/’ and the contents of the shop of a cheap hosier
attempting to establish himself, not very successfully, in a back
street near the Fulham Road. But this is a detail. The Ladies
continued their prowl, and the Gentleman, turning his back upon
them, assumed attitudes, now reminding one of the Courier oij
St. Petersburg in a Circus, and now of a nipped-in-the-bud Nigger
breakdown. The Ladies occasionally screamed, and finally joined,
hands in twos and twos. Then a couple leisurely sat down, while
the others continued their monotonous walk alone. By this time the
Gentleman was exhausted. So he wiped his face, looked at his
watch, and motioned “the orchestra” to stop their clatter. Thus
ended the Wayang Purwo.
At the Private Rehearsal here came a pause for refreshments,
when those present were offered “chicken and champagne.” The
Javanese, however, did not join in the collation, their modest wants
being fully satisfied by a few pots of beer. Then came the per-
formance of the Wayang Gedog, which might be aptly translated,.
as “it is taken from the history of Panje, the most renowned
hero of Java story”
(again the Notes
are quoted), as the
Wayward Sly Dog.
Three Ladies, once
more keeping time
to the music of
the saucepans and
screech-fiddle,
began their mono-
tonous stroll. Anew
Gentleman, whose
“aesthetic dress”
consisted of a white
cook’s jacket and
brown cloth un-
mentionables (as
what they exactly
were—I mean what
he exactly wore—I
am unable to des-
cribe), joined them.
He moved forward very deliberately, with steps measuring
some three inches a-piece, until he approached close to one of the
Ladies. Then he leisurely chucked her under the chin, and slowly
retired. This “doggish ” manoeuvre was repeated two or three times,
and the Wayang Gedog, described in the programme as “the true
Oriental Dance of rhythmic movements (commonly known as the
Nautch) ” was over. To the Philistine accustomed to a very different
measure (watched at the Pantomime houses), it appeared neither
“ Nauchty ” nor nice !
The performers, both players and dancers, seemed extremely
good-natured, and. smiled occasionally, apparently moved to mild
mirth at the rapt attention given by the audience to their feeble efforts-
at Terpsichorean tomfoolery. In the circular it was explained that
“the usual caste scruples which prevent many Orientals leaving
their native land, do not apply in this case, as these natives of Java
are descendants of those who were driven to embrace Mahometanism.”
This little piece of information was all the more interesting,, as the
ancestors of these natives (to quote from the Notes) “were com-
pelled at the sword’s point to embrace Mahometanism in 1374.” Or
more than five hundred years ago !
To sum up. The exhibition is dull in the extreme, and a single
visit will be enough [if, indeed, not more than enough) to satisfy
the most inveterate of sightseers. It is true that one of those
present at the Private Rehearsal expressed his opinion that “the
dancing was too good for the public,” and another that “ the
orchestra” were playing “some excellent concerted music.” In
spite of all this, however, a last quotation of the programme is
desirable. Says the programme, “Ethnologists, Musicians, and
Art-Connoisseurs will find this visit of Javanese affords an unusually
favourable opportunity for study.” This is quite true, as the
attractiveness of the Gamelan is unlikely to divert the attention of
Ethnologists, Musicians, and Art-Connoisseurs from the study of—
something else !
Real Police Intelligence!
This is the sort of person whom the
Police saw loafing about for weeks, and
never watched because they “ thought
he was a betting man ! ” About as
close a resemblance as he bears to St.
| Leger himself.
ETIQUETTE FOR FRENCH DUEL-
LISTS.
(Toprevent awkward accidents.)
M. le Baron Box. Can you fight.
Sir ?
M. le Comte de Cox. No, Sir !
M. le Barori Box. Then don’t
come on!
Ti Whiti, the New Zealand
Prophet, in whom the Maori Chiefs
are so much interested, must be
the Prophet one sees at the Opera
—in the Stalls, of course. Lots-
of Ti Whiteties there.