Traditional kite-making in peril as interest wanes
It takes many years to master the craft and there are few craftsmen who have the skills
Shafie Jusoh loves traditional Malaysian kites so much that he can't get a good night's rest unless he's been working on them daily.
"I need to make kites everyday, if not I can't sleep," the 69-year-old said. He began making them when he was a young boy, skipping classes to entertain his flights of fancy.
Kite-maker Shafie Jusoh inspects the bamboo frame of a traditional wau bulan kite being crafted at his studio in Pantai Cahaya Bulan on the outskirts of Kota Bharu, in peninsular Malaysia's northeastern Kelantan state. Mohd Rasfan / AFP |
"If you don't do it everyday, you will lose the technique," he added.
Shafie is among a diminishing group of Malaysian master kite-makers who have dedicated their lives to breathing life into the ancient craft.
A colorful giant two-metre kite with extended wings greets visitors at the entrance of Shafie's dark and dusty studio in a sleepy village in Kelantan state.
"I made this kite 30 years ago. You need 25 men to fly it," the self-taught kite-maker quipped proudly as he showed a faded photo of it soaring in the air.
A wooden table at his studio is lined with several awards from government agencies for his efforts promoting Malaysia's kites, a national symbol, worldwide.
He recalled one particular visit to Paris many years ago, where he had brought over 30 Malaysian kites to an exhibition and all were sold quickly.
"To the foreigners, the kites are just so unique and they love it" he said.
The early morning rays stream through a rickety green window, dancing on the thick veins on his arm as he flips and turns his knife, cutting a spiny bamboo stick to perfection.
After thinning out several bamboo sticks, he bends and ties them with strings to form the main kite frame.
Separately, using a small knife, he cuts out intricate floral designs on an assortment of colored paper. These are painstakingly pasted onto tracing paper which is then glued to the main bamboo frame.
The kite is then left indoors for a day to let the glue dry.
A ribbon is attached tightly to two ends of the kites and this produces a loud "swoosh" sound when the kite makes sharp turns in the sky.
The entire process can take between two weeks to three months depending on the intricate nature of the kite.
"You need both the passion and the patience to make kites," Shafie explained.
There are several kinds of Malaysian kites, with various shapes based on stingrays, cats and peacocks. There is also a kite called wau jala budi where its curvy shape, some believe, is inspired by the outline of a woman's body.
It takes around a week or two to produce a small moon kite and is sold for around 400 to 500 ringgit, ($100 to $125) said Shafie. Some moon kites though can be as high as three meters. The bigger models can cost as much as $2,230.
While the people of Kelantan, known for its crafts, still love such Malaysian kites, interest is waning.
There are fears the ancient skills, passed from one generation to the next, will die out.
"It takes many, many years to master the craft and the situation in Kelantan and elsewhere in Malaysia is that there are very few craftsmen who still have the traditional knowledge," said Pauline Fan, creative director of Pusaka, an organization that works to document and protect traditional Malay arts.