Owning the Profound Art of Batik Making
By Rachel Yeoh
September 2024 FEATURE
I HAVE A strong affinity to textiles—probably because when I was a wee girl, I would often wan - der among rows and rows of rolls of fabric, while my mother, who was a seamstress, slowly picked out the materials she needed to make clothes for her customers. When I started working and began travelling around Southeast Asia, I would make it a point to stop by a textile store to pick up a few metres of fabric to bring home—my most treasured being the Cambodian Silk Ikat (known as chong kiet in Khmer) and the Royal Pahang Silk.
These fabrics cost me a small fortune, but it does not matter as I appreciate the art form. It carries with it centuries of cultural significance, as artistry and history interlace, creating something tangible and wearable. Malaysia boasts a rich tapestry of its own, yet this often-overlooked gem deserves greater recognition. Therefore, when I heard about the IKAT 2.0 Penang Edition that was held in April this year, a collaborative effort between EDT, a creative studio, and Yayasan Hasanah to spotlight east coast batik, I knew it was an event I couldn’t miss.
It was during the event that I met Md Ghani Mat, the master artisan and adiguru of batik block craft. There are only three such artisans left in the country, himself included. Unlike using wax to draw on fabric to create the designs, blocks circuited with strips of copper are hammered to a desired shape and melded with acid and fire on a block. The completed block is then dipped in wax and stamped on the fabric, creating rhythmic patterns before the dyeing process begins.
Ahmad Fathil Othman, more fondly known as Padil Osman, is a batik and watercolour artist who showcased his batik canting techniques during the tour. To canting is to apply liquid wax using a fountain-pen-like tool called a canting on the fabric. Once the drawings are done, it goes through the dyeing process.
“It starts with a white cloth, and after mencanting, I’ll have to dip dye the fabric seven to eight times to create multiple layers—until the colour is deep and vibrant enough. It usually takes one month to complete the process. I once did a two-metre piece, and it took me three months to complete,” he said, adding that these creations need time and cannot be rushed.
There are also ancient secrets when it comes to extracting colours from different types of local wood, roots and leaves. Natural dye artist, Nawwal Abdul Kadir, works with jackfruit wood, mangosteen and rambutan skin, among others, to create dye. She also explained that all leaves with medicinal value can be turned into natural dye. Her expertise, not only as an artist, but a researcher at Universiti Malaysia Kelantan, is in the development of colour for these dyes. One of the colours that she has developed using a special tech - nique is metallic gold from chengal wood. For colours to appear vivid and to prevent them from ever fading, fabrics are dipped approximately 50 times.
Batik originally uses natural colours from natural sources. These patterns and techniques are not merely aesthetic embellishments, but repositories of cultural knowledge, passed down through generations. Over time, and with a better understanding of science and the elements, these artisans were able to further develop their craft. When people understand the time, skill and passion that goes into creating a single piece of batik, they are more likely to value and support the art form. Unfortunately, many do not.
Some would argue that, well, batik is not exclu - sive to Malaysia, it is Indonesia’s—true and not true. Early examples of batik originating from the Nusantara region have been found all over the world, using almost similar techniques that have evolved over time. There is batik in the far east in Japan and to the west in Africa, however, the patterns are distinctively different. Indonesia’s batik, for example, displays animal motifs, some with religious meaning to depict stories. Malaysia’s batik, especially those from the east coast, carry floral motifs, serving as vibrant emblems of the country’s lush landscapes and plant species.
Technically, it is not so much about the preservation of batik as a textile, but the artisans themselves. It is because of them that Malaysia continues (maybe not for long now) to have batik as its versatile artistic tapestry. We are down to a handful of batik artisans, the preservers of the culture to the next generation. To support Malaysian batik makers, all federal civil servants and ministers are required to wear batik every Thursday, effective 21 August 2023. While it is a great move for batik visibility, it does not do much to tell the general public why this trade needs support—most do not even know that purchasing printed batik does nothing to support batik artists.
Clearly, more work needs to be done in articulating the importance of preserving real batik—the block makers, the canting artists, the screen makers and the dye-developers are the ones keeping Malaysian batik alive by honouring laborious and time-consuming techniques passed to them from generations past.
We do not necessarily see a lot of branding when it comes to batik. I am happy to see brands like Kapten Batik in major shopping malls—though what made me chuckle was that the co-founders, Farhan Omar and Ekram Faiz, had to travel to Indonesia for inspiration.
There are also Malaysian designer brands like Rizman Ruzaini who have made a name for themselves, debuting their Spring-Summer 2024 at Dubai Fashion Week, and went on to open for the Autumn-Winter 24/25 edition recently. They have used batik in their previous collections, but imagine if Naomi Campbell and Lady Gaga (who have recently worn their collections) donned the Malaysian batik? My guess is that a #doneclaim war will erupt in the social media sphere. However, what I feel should be the foundational focus of these fashion successes are stories of these humble but highly skilled batik artisans. By championing their craft, maybe fellow Malaysians will be willing to learn, hone and be stewards of it, catching the remnants of wisdom from these craftisans before they are no more.
Footnotes:
Rachel Yeoh
is a former journalist who traded her on-the-go job for a life behind the desk. For the sake of work-life balance, she participates in Penang's performing arts scene after hours.
