Gamelan as a Medium of Social Cohesion

A Brief Insight from Pasar Papringan

This is a preview of a forthcoming book chapter.

Within the cultural landscape of Pasar Papringan in Temanggung, Central Java, Gamelan music functions not merely as an aesthetic complement, but as a subtle yet powerful mechanism of social cohesion. Rather than positioning itself as a performative spectacle, the presence of Gamelan operates as a binding agent that shapes the interactional dynamics of the market space.

Empirical observations indicate that the communal nature of Gamelan performance—characterized by interdependence, rhythmic synchronization, and the absence of individual dominance—mirrors the Javanese philosophical principle of gotong royong (mutual cooperation). This structural emphasis on collective harmony is not confined to the musicians themselves; rather, it extends outward, influencing the broader social atmosphere of the market.

Visitors and local participants, though differing in background and intent, become embedded within a shared experiential field mediated by sound. The continuity of Gamelan music produces a sense of spatial and emotional unity, softening social boundaries between vendors, performers, and guests. In this context, music operates as a non-verbal communicative medium, fostering inclusivity without requiring explicit interaction.

Importantly, this phenomenon suggests that Gamelan transcends its role as cultural representation and instead facilitates what may be understood as affective social integration. The music organizes the tempo of the environment, subtly regulating movement, conversation, and presence within the space. As such, cohesion is not imposed through formal structures, but emerges organically through a shared sensory experience.

This brief insight highlights one critical dimension of Gamelan’s role at Pasar Papringan: its capacity to transform a commercial marketplace into a socially integrated environment. Further analysis reveals that this function is intricately connected to broader questions of cultural identity, sustainability, and resistance in the context of globalization.

Seni Melatih Telinga yang Sering Terlupakan

Banyak orang memandang bermain musik sebagai soal jari-jari yang lincah di atas senar, tuts, atau stik drum. Walakin, siapa sangka, jauh sebelum tangan bergerak, ada organ tubuh yang jauh lebih dulu bekerja keras — telinga.

Bermain musik, dalam esensinya, adalah latihan mendengar. Bukan sekadar mendengar dalam arti pasif, melainkan mendengar secara aktif dan penuh kesadaran. Setiap nada yang keluar dari instrumen kita sendiri, setiap ketukan dari rekan satu band, dinamika yang naik-turun, semuanya menuntut telinga untuk selalu waspada.

Pic: Gemini

Ketika seseorang memetik gitar atau menekan tuts piano, hal pertama yang ia lakukan secara tak sadar adalah mendengarkan. Apakah nadanya sudah tepat? Apakah timingnya sesuai? Apakah tekanan pada dawai menghasilkan suara yang bersih atau justru serak?

Musisi jazz legendaris Miles Davis pernah menasihatkan sesuatu yang dalam maknanya: “Sometimes you have to play a long time to be able to play like yourself” (Davis & Troupe, 1990). Artinya, menemukan suara yang otentik membutuhkan waktu, dan waktu itu diisi dengan latihan mendengar diri sendiri tanpa henti.

Telinga adalah cermin paling jujur dari apa yang kita mainkan. Bukan not di kertas, bukan pujian penonton, hanya suara yang benar-benar terdengar di udara. Dan dari situ, Davis memberi satu prinsip yang lebih tajam lagi: “It’s not the notes you play, it’s the notes you don’t play” (Davis, dalam berbagai wawancara). Dengan kata lain, kemampuan mendengar yang tajam justru membantu musisi tahu kapan harus diam. Sesuatu yang tidak bisa diajarkan hanya dari buku teori.

Dinamika bermain musik berubah total ketika kita masuk ke dalam konteks band atau ensemble. Di sinilah kemampuan mendengar diuji pada level yang berbeda; lebih kompleks, lebih menantang, dan jauh lebih memuaskan ketika berhasil.

Seorang bassist yang baik tidak hanya mengikuti chord progression sang gitaris. Ia mendengar groove dari drummer, lalu memutuskan di mana ia harus mengisi ruang dan kapan harus diam. Seorang pianis dalam kuartet jazz tidak bermain berdasarkan ego, melainkan berdasarkan apa yang ia dengar dari pemain lain.

Quincy Jones, produser legendaris di balik album-album Michael Jackson, pernah mengungkapkan filosofi hidupnya yang relevan: “I learned real early why God gave us two ears and one mouth, because you’re supposed to listen twice as much as you talk“. Kalimat ini bukan sekadar bijak secara umum. Dalam konteks bermain musik bersama, ini adalah hukum tak tertulis yang paling fundamental.

Bukan hanya soal perasaan atau filosofi, sains membuktikan hal yang sama. Penelitian dari Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, Harvard Medical School yang diterbitkan dalam Progress in Brain Research (2015) menemukan bahwa latihan bermusik yang berulang memperkuat koneksi antara wilayah auditori dan wilayah motorik di otak, khususnya melalui jalur saraf yang disebut arcuate fasciculus.

Lebih lanjut, sebuah makalah dari Brigham and Women’s Hospital, Harvard juga menyatakan bahwa musik dapat mengubah struktur dan fungsi otak, baik setelah paparan singkat maupun jangka panjang . Artinya, setiap sesi latihan band bukan hanya melatih jari, ia secara harfiah membentuk ulang cara otak kita memproses suara.

Bermain musik bukan sekadar pertunjukan jari. Ia adalah dialog yang terus-menerus antara telinga, pikiran, dan ekspresi. Setiap sesi latihan adalah juga sesi meditasi mendengar; mendengar diri sendiri, mendengar teman bermain, mendengar ruang di antara nada-nada itu.

Kalau selama ini kamu merasa bermain musik hanya soal teknik, coba diam sejenak. Letakkan instrumenmu. Dan dengarkan. Mungkin di situlah musikmu yang sesungguhnya baru akan dimulai.

---

Davis, M., & Troupe, Q. (1990). Miles: The Autobiography. Simon & Schuster.

---

The World is ‘Sick’, Keep on Creating

Missiles have been launched. The Strait of Hormuz is under the shadow of a blockade. Fuel prices are creeping up, the rupiah is volatile, and at the dining tables of middle-class Indonesian families, calculating this month’s expenses feels much tighter than last month.

This is where many creators are tempted to stop.

Who wants to watch a movie now? Who wants to buy a book? Who cares about our content in the middle of a world that is burning?

Those questions sound reasonable. But they are completely wrong.

Right here, in the midst of collective anxiety, in the space between tragic news and economic uncertainty, is precisely where creativity finds its true purpose. Not as escapist entertainment, but as a language that helps society understand and endure a reality that is changing all too fast.

This article is an invitation. Not just to create, but to create with intent, to create with the awareness that the narrative or creation you make today could be a map for people who are lost in the middle of the storm.

Crises Birth the Greatest Works of All Time

World art history is almost entirely written against a backdrop of crisis. Schindler’s List was born from the pool of blood that was the Holocaust. Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite is a cinematic interpretation of the yawning chasm of economic inequality in South Korea that had remained wide open for too long.

In Indonesia, the story is no different. Laskar Pelangi was written when the Indonesian economy was still limping post-reformation—and it touched the deepest nerve of the nation’s hope. Wiji Thukul’s poems were born from within the encirclement of an authoritarian regime. Perahu Kertas and hundreds of popular Indonesian novels grew precisely in the post-2000 era of uncertainty, when readers sought a narrative anchor amidst rapid social changes.

Crisis is not an obstacle to creativity. It is the material. Why? Because crisis forces humans to face the most fundamental questions: What is truly important? Who can be trusted? What does it mean to be a good human when the system around us fails? How can we stay whole when everything collapses?

These questions are what have always been at the heart of the best creative work of all time.

Three Major Themes Waiting to Be Interpreted

From the context of the Iran versus US-Israel war and its impact on Indonesia, there are three major narrative themes that have not been sufficiently explored by Indonesian creators—three deep wells waiting for your bucket of creativity.

First, the theme of resilience. Indonesia is a nation that knows full well about enduring. Earthquakes, tsunamis, the 1998 monetary crisis, the pandemic—we have made it through them all.

However, there is a nuance in the narrative of resilience that is often missing from our creative works: honest resilience, not pseudo-heroic resilience. Too many Indonesian works portray resilience as something valiant and clean, like a character facing hardship with a brave smile and eventually winning.

It is indeed heartwarming. Though it is rarely true.

True resilience is far messier. It looks like a mother crying silently after the children have gone to sleep because the electricity bills are piling up. Like a young fresh graduate who is applying for their 33rd job and still forces themselves to wake up in the morning. Like a small eatery owner who is selling their last gold bracelet to pay for ingredients, but still opens their eatery every day because they do not know any other way to live other than by serving.

There are thousands of stories of resilience that have never been filmed in the corners of Indonesia—fishermen who still go to sea despite the skyrocketing price of diesel, farmers who innovate with organic fertilizer when the price of imported fertilizer is unaffordable, local communities that build an informal barter system when the flow of money is stuck.

These are not small stories. This is the documentation of the living history of a nation.

The second theme is about crisis. There is a fear within the creative world to raise the theme of crisis directly. Fear of being considered pessimistic. Fear that the work will become too heavy. Fear that the audience will run away.

Please look at global content consumption data today: content with themes of dystopia, climate crisis, social inequality, and geopolitics is in a golden age. Squid Game is an allegory for economic inequality that was so resonant it was watched by 111 million households in its first 28 days of release. Don’t Look Up is a satire of communication crisis in facing an existential disaster that invited millions of global discussions.

Society does not run from the theme of crisis. They pull away from works that simply show a crisis without meaning, without direction, without questions, without even the smallest bit of hope at the end of it.

For that, narratives are needed, for example, about loyalty, structural injustice, and moral choices in situations where there is no correct choice.

The third theme is community solidarity. It is perhaps the most urgent and most underexplored theme in the Indonesian creative landscape today.

We live in an era of paradox: more digitally connected than ever, yet more socially lonely than ever. The neighborhood communities that used to be a social safety net have long been eroded by urban individualism. And precisely when crisis comes, only then do we realize how high the price of that disconnect is.

The solidarity that is interesting to raise is not dramatic solidarity. Not viral donations or mutual cooperation during disasters that have been widely covered, but it is the solidarity that quietly happens in the corners behind the camera, like neighbors sharing cooking ingredients without talking much, a neighborhood (RT) WhatsApp group that suddenly becomes active coordinating collective shopping so they can get wholesale prices, a student who opens a free class in their village because private tutoring is no longer affordable for parents.

To the Creators Who Are Doubting

Maybe you are sitting with an idea in your head, but your hands have not moved yet. Maybe you are thinking: Is this the right time? Does anyone care? Is my work good enough for a moment this big?

No one ever feels ready. Bong Joon-ho was not sure Parasite would be accepted. Andrea Hirata did not know Laskar Pelangi would touch millions of people. Pramoedya wrote the Buru tetralogy on toilet paper in prison.

What distinguishes a creator who leaves a mark from one who does not, is not talent, not capital, not perfect timing, but is the willingness to start with what is there, from where you are, with whoever is around. And when the world is not doing well, when our neighbors are confused, when the media is full of news larger than our average ability to understand it, is the moment creators are most needed.

Not as explainers. Not as entertainers, but as honest witnesses and empathetic interpreters of the reality we are living through together.

The world is not short on crises – it is even suspected to enter a crisis soon – but short on people who want to illuminate it with honesty, warmth, and the courage of creativity. So begin. With the stories that are around you.

Palagan Narasi Iran, Israel dan Amerika Serikat

Konflik di Timur Tengah bukan hanya pertempuran fisik, tetapi juga perang narasi yang kompleks. Setiap aktor utama—Israel, Iran, dan Amerika Serikat—membangun cerita yang mencerminkan kepentingan geopolitik mereka. Narasi-narasi ini tidak hanya membentuk opini publik, tetapi juga melegitimasi tindakan politik dan militer di panggung internasional.

Israel membangun narasi yang menempatkan negara tersebut sebagai entitas yang rapuh namun beradab di tengah lingkungan yang bermusuhan. Bingkai “keamanan eksistensial” berfungsi sebagai justifikasi moral untuk kebijakan keamanan ketat dan respons militer yang proporsional. Narasi ini efektif karena mengaktivasi memori kolektif tentang Holocaust dan pengalaman historis penganiayaan terhadap bangsa Yahudi. Israel berhasil mengubah posisinya dari negara pendudukan menjadi korban yang berjuang untuk bertahan hidup.

Iron Dome berfungsi sebagai simbol yang paradoks, menunjukkan superioritas teknologi Israel sekaligus menggarisbawahi kerentanan warga sipil terhadap serangan roket. Sistem ini menjadi metafora visual yang kuat: Israel sebagai negara kecil yang terpaksa mengembangkan teknologi canggih untuk melindungi rakyatnya dari “barbar modern.” Penggunaan terminologi seperti “teroris setara ISIS” untuk menggambarkan Hamas dan Hizbullah adalah strategi dehumanisasi yang bertujuan menghilangkan legitimasi politik lawan dan memposisikan konflik sebagai pertarungan antara peradaban dan barbarisme.

Pic: Gemini AI

Sementara, Iran membangun narasi berakar pada teologi pembebasan Syiah, dengan negara memosisikan diri sebagai pelindung kaum tertindas. Narasi ini melampaui batas-batas etnis dan nasional, menciptakan jaringan solidaritas ideologis yang melintasi Timur Tengah. Kekuatan narasi Iran terletak pada kemampuannya mengubah proxy war menjadi jihad pembebasan. Kelompok-kelompok seperti Hamas, Hizbullah, dan Houthi tidak lagi dilihat sebagai milisi, tetapi sebagai gerakan perlawanan yang sah melawan imperialisme dan Zionisme.

Penggunaan figur, termasuk Ayatollah Ali Khamenei yang baru terbunuh, sebagai simbol martir menciptakan narasi pembalasan yang berkelanjutan. Setiap serangan terhadap aset Iran atau sekutunya dibingkai sebagai pengorbanan yang memperkuat tekad “poros perlawanan” dan melegitimasi respons balas dendam. Pawai militer dengan rudal bertuliskan slogan politik berfungsi sebagai teater kekuatan yang mengkomunikasikan pesan deterensi sambil memperkuat identitas ideologis domestik.

Narasi Amerika Serikat dalam konflik ini berpusat pada peran mereka sebagai “penjaga stabilitas regional” dan penegak ketertiban internasional. Melalui strategi komunikasi krisis, AS berusaha menyeimbangkan dua pesan yang kontradiktif: memberikan dukungan tanpa syarat kepada keamanan Israel sekaligus mencegah terjadinya perang terbuka (total war) yang dapat menghancurkan ekonomi global. Bingkai yang digunakan adalah memosisikan Iran sebagai “aktor destabilisasi” yang mengancam jalur perdagangan vital seperti Laut Merah dan Selat Hormuz, sehingga tindakan militer atau sanksi AS dicitrakan bukan sebagai agresi, melainkan sebagai langkah perlindungan terhadap kepentingan bersama dunia internasional.

Secara simbolik, AS menggunakan komunikasi non-verbal tingkat tinggi melalui pengerahan aset militer strategis, seperti kapal induk ke Laut Mediterania. Dalam kajian komunikasi politik, ini disebut sebagai signal of deterrence (sinyal pencegahan) yaitu sebuah pesan visual yang sangat kuat tanpa  perlu mengeluarkan satu kata pun, ditujukan untuk menggertak lawan agar tidak melakukan eskalasi lebih jauh. Di sisi lain, narasi ini juga diarahkan ke publik domestik mereka untuk meredam kekhawatiran akan keterlibatan dalam “perang abadi” (forever wars) yang baru, dengan  menekankan bahwa kehadiran mereka di sana justru untuk menjaga perdamaian dan mencegah  keterlibatan tentara AS dalam skala besar.

Strategi narasi pun tidak bersifat acak, melainkan memiliki khalayak sasaran yang sangat spesifik  melalui proses segmentasi komunikasi. Israel secara konsisten membidik publik Barat untuk  mempertahankan legitimasi moral dan aliran bantuan militer. Di sisi lain, Iran mengarahkan  narasinya ke dunia Islam dan kelompok perlawanan regional untuk memperkuat pengaruh  kepemimpinannya di Timur Tengah. Sementara itu, pemerintah Amerika Serikat lebih fokus pada komunikasi domestik untuk meyakinkan rakyatnya bahwa keterlibatan militer mereka bersifat  terbatas dan diperlukan demi stabilitas ekonomi, guna menghindari protes massal terkait “perang  abadi.” Oleh karena itu, dalam kerangka berpikir kritis, setiap kali kita mengonsumsi berita konflik ini, pertanyaan mendasar yang harus diajukan adalah: “Untuk siapakah cerita atau berita ini
sebenarnya dibuat?