It could scarcely be otherwise, given the extent of his
travels. Nevertheless, from the moment I got to Java I felt that I was tracing
J.E. Jasper’s footsteps -- something that I would love to do much more of.
Faithful followers of this blog will remember the name J.E.
Jasper. He, together with mas Pirngadie, is the author of the magnificent
five-volume set: De Inlandsche Kunstnijverheid van Nederlandsch Indiƫ. In 2012,
I was given the opportunity to make an exhibition about him and Pirngadie for
Museum Tekstil in Jakarta. Mas MJA Nashir and I researched Pirngadie and Jasper respectively for the exhibit catalogue. After the exhibition opening (16 October 2012), we retraced
some of their footsteps in S. Sulawesi but only enough to whet the appetite. I subsequently
wrote a first follow-up volume about their research journeys based on
publications and archives in The Netherlands. This was just hot off the press when I arrived in Jakarta this time (April 2014) and I went straight to the Textile
Museum to pick up a copy. Another appetite whetter to research their further travels.
I am convinced that my work will continue to shed more light on how they researched their
astounding five-volume set on Indonesian craft.
During my week in Jakarta, this time, I worked in the
archives. After spending days to find the material I needed, I was told that
the section of the archives that I needed is closed for review. I was bitterly disappointed,
as I had looked forward to accessing the material in Indonesia’s national
archives for a long time.
After Jakarta, I travelled to Bandung (26 March2014). Being there offered a bit of relief from
that disappointment. Jasper had retired to Bandung after he finished his term as
Governor of Yogyakarta. When I arrived in Bandung I immediately sensed why he
chose that city. (Relatively) cool climate. Lots of green. Jasper
was not alone in his selection, if the number of colonial homes in that fair
city is any indication. The tempo doeloe sphere in Bandung is still very
strong. I could imagine Jasper living in comfort on Jalan Riau close to the palatial
headquarters of the governor of West Java within close proximity to all that he
needed.
Jasper’s grandson sent me the precise address and I visited
it at the first opportunity. It was, alas, not one of the houses that had been
maintained. It was stuffed in behind a modern furniture store. The door
was swinging half open on its ancient hinges, not in welcome but from neglect.
I was so bold as to step inside for a moment. Perhaps that was the room where he
had kept his library. Perhaps it was the room where he took breakfast with his
wife. The tiled floor looked original – a windfall of neglect. But I was shooed
out of the house before I could get any further; I was told that the owner was
not present to give me permission to enter.
An extension to the left. Perhaps the servants' quarters? |
The interior of the front room with the original tiles |
I surveyed the house from a distance, trying to imagine it
without the furniture shop in front of it. Presumably the grounds had once been
relatively vast and perhaps lovely; the house itself was relatively modest. The
street was now commercial and extremely busy; I couldn’t say that there was any
colonial sphere left hanging there.
Just prior to leaving Bandung, I found the time to look for
Jasper’s grave. I had been told that it was located on Jalan Pandu. One section
is a memorial graveyard maintained by the Dutch government to commemorate those
who died during the Japanese occupation of the Netherlands East Indies.
It was easy to find the section and number of his grave by looking up Jasper’s name in the book. He is buried there beside his son in the last row before a beautiful pool of water filled with flowers and surrounded by trees.
Calm, peaceful, beautiful, well kept.
Sharp contrast to the last years of his life in the Japanese Internment Camp of Cimahi. I sent pictures of the grave to his grandson.
The graveyard maintained by the Dutch government on Jalan Pandu |
It was easy to find the section and number of his grave by looking up Jasper’s name in the book. He is buried there beside his son in the last row before a beautiful pool of water filled with flowers and surrounded by trees.
Calm, peaceful, beautiful, well kept.
Sharp contrast to the last years of his life in the Japanese Internment Camp of Cimahi. I sent pictures of the grave to his grandson.
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