After the discovery of a stand of kemuning, the leaders of the community (often the Raja himself and his ministers and religious functionaries) would engage in long periods of consultation. If they felt that the trees could not be protected from poachers or thieves, they would then decide to cut the trees down themselves. They would begin by identifying a suitable time for felling them. They would also take into consideration criteria such as the location of the trees before felling began. Woodcarvers preferred kemuning trees that were growing in hilly areas where there were plenty of rock formations, as it was believed that this would force the roots of the tree to bend and twist in a number of ways, thereby creating the grain that the woodcarvers so desired. Sometimes the trunks of the trees would be 'scarred' by hacking them with cleavers (parang) and then left to 'mature' for a few years before the trees were actually cut down. This process of scarring the tree trunk was deemed necessary not only to check on the quality of the wood but also to make the wood 'react' to the scarring process. It was thought that such deliberate scarring would cause the trunk to grow in a more erratic and confused manner, thereby adding to the flame-like grain of the wood itself.
Four pisau wall handles. Drawings by Norhaiza Noordin.
The pisau wall is the woodcarver's main carving tool in the Kelantan-Terengganu-Pattani region. Nowadays, such knives are often made using blades from cutthroat razors imported from Europe. The form is carved by a scraping action of the pisau wall after being roughly shaped by the chisel or adze. These knives were made and used by the late Nik Rashiddin Nik Hussein.
PISAU WALI (CARVING KNIFE) (FL062)
Kelantan, late 20th c., kemuning wood, 17 x 4 x 3 cm
Langkasukan motifs finish this knife handle. Small pieces of kemuning that are not suitable for the carving of keris hilts are often used to make handles of this type. Motifs are designed to camouflage cracks or blemishes.
PISAU WALI (FL061)
Kelantan, late 20th c., kenaung wood, ivory, 16 x 3 x 2.5 cm
This is the last pisau wall made by Nik Rashiddin. The handle is formed of kenaung wood and the stupa finial from ivory.
It can thus be seen that the relationship between the woodcarver and the tree was a long and complex one that began with the process of identifying the trees he required for his work. By the end of the process, the woodcarver would have probably spent anything between five to ten years (in some cases, even more) with each particular tree, cultivating it, preparing it before it was cut down, carefully dissecting it piece by piece to find the best parts, preserving it, and finally putting it to use.
From Tree to Wood: Traditional Wood Care and Storage
Wood that had been cut from the forest was usually treated with great care and respect. The Malay woodcarver realized that the wood that was now in his possession was no ordinary material. It had come from a tree, which was a living thing endowed with semangat and nyawa, vitality and life, and thus had an identity and character of its own. In some parts of the Malay archipelago, respect for the living tree was so great that woodcarvers would perform specific rituals prior to felling the tree in the hope that they would be pardoned for their audacity in turning it into lumber.6
Woodcarvers in the past would also store their most prized pieces of wood in the rumah padi (rice storehouse), along with their supply of padi. This was a special privilege bestowed on particularly fine, and small, pieces of wood that were singled out to be carved into keris handles. The reason for this choice of location was simple enough: the rumah padi was thought to be particularly suitable because it had the right temperature and humidity levels. The air was never too damp, the ventilation was good, and the building was also free from vermin and other pests.
But there were other reasons as well, reasons that had more to do with the esoteric dimension of the semangat of wood. For it was thought that padi, being a life-giving and life-sustaining food source, was particularly endowed with strong semangat of its own. To maintain the semangat of wood, it was thought that the rumah padi was the best place to keep it, as it would ensure that the semangat of the wood remained at a high level. Thus, the connection between the semangat of wood and the semangat of padi was a strong one. (It is important to note that in the past, other items and objects of strong semangat were stored in the rumah padi as well. This included the blades of keris, spears and other weapons or ritual objects.
Having stored the wood in the rumah padi, the woodcarver would leave it there to dry for several years. Some woodcarvers have been known to keep the wood in their rumah padi for dozens of years, until it had reached the required levels of dryness and hardness that gave it the strength and resilience that the woodcarver desired. During this prolonged period, the store of padi would be changed and replenished time and again, while the wood in the rumah padi would merely accumulate the semangat that was being stored in the same place.
A pisau wall handle. Drawing by Norhaiza Noordin.
Foliate spirals commonly used on keris tajong hilts and on architectural elements. This particular example appears on a post at Masjid Pulau Condong, Kelantan. Drawing by Norhaiza Noordin.
A keris hilt decorated with the leaves of the ketumbit, a common garden herb. Drawing by Norhaiza Noordin.
Larger pieces of wood would be kept under the house of the carver himself, which was raised on posts above the ground. Before storing, woodcarvers often cut these pieces into lengths of about two feet (60 cm). These would then be left under the house, often for years, allowing them to age naturally and to dry out. It was important to store them in a place where they would not be exposed to direct sunlight as this could damage the grain of the wood.
While the wood was being stored in this way, it was also important that it should not be moved for any reason. Traditional woodcarvers believed that while the wood was being dried, its orientation should not be altered. If this were to happen, they believed that the colour and grain (pela and coreng) of the wood might be adversely affected and might change dramatically. The woodcarver would therefore check his wood periodically, observing it for the smallest changes that would indicate to him when a particular piece was mature enough for use.
Another curious way of keeping wood for future use was to utilize wood that had been used for other purposes elsewhere. It must be noted that this practice cannot and should not be compared to modern modes of recycling, for the wood in this case had not been simply discarded or deemed unfit for use. What the woodcarvers were doing was simply working on wood that was already in everyday service around them. An example of such a practice can be found in the way that some woodcarvers used wood that had come from parts of their houses, such as the beams or the foundations. Having decided that a particular section of the wood was mature enough, the woodcarver would simply remove that piece and replace it with a newer piece. The wood that was removed was then cleaned, cut and treated before it was put to other uses such as keris handles or sculpture. (Some present-day woodcarvers continue this practice of obtaining wood from old houses and palaces that have been dismantled or have simply been left to deteriorate.)
Once again, there are both simple and complex explanations for the process of using old wood. On the simpler level, one could explain this as a straightforward process of replacing wood and utilizing material that had been already put to use and was thus tried and tested. But the esoteric dimension of the process provides us with a more complex explanation. Traditional woodcarvers justified the practice