"…YES, they'll all come to meet me… Arms reaching, smiling sweetly… It's good to touch the green, green grass of home…"
Ohhh, that familiar tune. As recognition dawned, I find myself silently mouthing the lyrics, memories of my dear father in our London kitchen belting out this Tom Jones classic, Green Green Grass of Home, whenever the song came on the radio, drifting into my thoughts. I was only a child then, but I could remember warbling along with him, our voices melding with the irresistibly sexy voice of Mr Jones.
Despite the heady human bustle around me in this converted kitchen of The Bendahari building on Jalan Bendahara, Melaka, I'm transported back to nostalgia-central, to the warm hearth that was home.
Meanwhile, oblivious to my wandering thoughts, everyone else — here for the launch of the community-driven exhibition, Heritage Trades of Melaka — are engrossed with in piling their plates with delectable Peranakan delicacies prepared by the organisers.
Seated across from me, his kindly eyes quizzical under his clear-rimmed glasses, Baba Ong Cheng Hoe smiles. "You recognise the tune?" he asks, as we find our gaze wandering beyond the wooden shutters from where we're sat before finally resting on a lively performance by a small band entertaining the crowd with their melodious keronchong-style rendition of Green Green Grass of Home.
I nod enthusiastically. "See, keronchong is so versatile. You can adapt it to any song!" exclaims the 90-year-old musician, beaming broadly. I'd whisked him away from the crowd after his talk following the documentary screening of Sounds of Keronchong Melaka, intrigued by his long involvement in this music form.
UNIQUE MUSICAL STYLE
Keronchong (sometimes spelt keroncong) is the name of a small ukelele-like instrument and an Indonesian musical style. The word keroncong originates from the chrong-chrong-chrong sound that's made when the instrument is strummed, and also from the kron and chong sound that emanates when a pair of these instruments interlock. A keronchong ensemble is typically made up of an orchestra and a vocalist, with the core orchestra consisting of flute, violin, two ukeleles, cello, double bass and guitar.
Keronchong music is said to have begun in the 16th century when sailors from the Portuguese Empire brought with them Portuguese instruments and music to Indonesia. Lower-class citizens and gangs, commonly called buaya (a reference to buaya darat, a term for playboys) adopted the new musical styles. Eventually, they were assimilated by the upper-class citizens.
During the Big Band era, keronchong became very popular in the hotel ballrooms frequented by the middle class. Extra violins, piano accordions, pianos, drums and brass were added to the small bands. These bands, which became known as orchestras, also included popular songs in their programmes. One of the characteristics of this music, is that it adapts and synthesises new musical sounds into its form, which means that its repertoire can be constantly expanded.
FOR THE LOVE OF KERONCHONG
"That's Baba Daniel singing," says Ong, his head nodding in the direction of a bespectacled singer performing for an enthusiastic crowd comprising local Melakans and those who'd taken the trouble to make their way down here to support this heritage preservation project led by Melissa Chan, steward of The Bendahari, a creative space in downtown Melaka.
One of the original members of keronchong troupe, Keronchong Malindo, Ong shares that he often performs with Baba Daniel (Daniel Ang), not only for events but also at competitions. "For today's launch event, Daniel asked me to join. I live alone, I had nothing better to do, so why not!"
Eyes shining, the father of six daughters shares that he's enjoyed a long and illustrious run in the world of keronchong. "Before I joined Keronchong Malindo, I was in another orchestral group called Bunga Melor. It was the first keronchong group in Melaka," says Ong, tone laced with pride. He was only 13. It was his late uncle, he confides, who inspired his interest in this musical style.
"At school, I was a poor student. So, I decided to leave and find work to support the rest of my siblings," recalls the 90-year-old who hails from Bandar Hilir, Melaka. Continuing, he tells me that from the age of 13 to 20, he was helping his mother to sell kuih and pisang goreng (banana fritters) to survive. "Sometimes I also helped the fishermen bring their catch up when they returned from the sea," he adds.
Life was tough, so the moment he left school he shot off to Singapore to find a job — without his parents' consent, shares Ong, chuckling mischievously at the memory. He found himself a job as a tele-clerk at Singapore harbour at the age of 20.
"I was a typist when I started, and then I got promoted to ledger clerk," he recalls happily, adding: "I was also with Electrolux, before moving on to work as a typist in charge of supermarket signages. I was responsible for typing out the prices and descriptions of the products!"
Returning to his passion for keronchong, the musician — whose life motto is "be happy" (he inserts this statement at every opportune moment during the course of our chat!) — proudly shares that his late uncle was a band leader. "There's a photo of him out there," enthuses this grandfather of 13, pointing to a wall lined with old photographs in the next room.
Ong would accompany his uncle on Wednesdays and Thursdays whenever he (his uncle) went to practise with his band. "He told me I had nothing to lose — so follow lah! When I first started, I played the ukelele. My uncle was my teacher."
His own father, adds Ong, wasn't in the least bit interested in music, let alone his son's passion for keronchong. Chuckling heartily, Ong jokes: "My father played mahjong only! Most of my formative years was spent trailing after my uncle. He gave me only one advice throughout my time with him: Be happy!"
Suffice to say, it's an advice that has stood this genial gentleman in good stead over the years. Despite his advanced age, Ong remains sprightly and full of energy. His eyes light up when he tells me about the many keronchong competitions he's had the joy of entering over the years.
"You know, as part of Orkes Keronchong Malindo, I've had the chance to perform for some RTM (Radio Televisyen Malaysia) gigs, and travelled to Jakarta four times in the 1980s. I've even gone to Holland to play our music. Do you know Saloma and Hetty Koes Endang? They've performed with us too!" shares the veteran musician whose beloved wife passed away in 2009. He's never remarried.
His fire for music continues to burn today. "I'm still performing," pipes Ong happily. "Today, I can play the ukelele and violin. But did you know that I can't read notes? Everything I learn by ear. Good hearing is very important in music. I can hear a song and then attempt to play it."
Does he have any dreams? I ask, curious.
"Just be happy lah!" exclaims Ong, his happy laughter permeating the air. "Maybe I want to compose another song. Love song? Maybe. It depends on my mood. I'll get the tune first and from there I'll know what type of song and what lyrics to write. But definitely nothing sad. Be happy only!"
Noticing Baba Daniel coming to the end of his set, I try to catch his eye in the hope that he will join us here, in the bustling kitchen of The Bendahari. A thought suddenly enters my mind and I turn to Ong, before blurting out: "Are you related to Laksamana Cheng Hoe by any chance?" I'm referring to that famous Chinese mariner, explorer and diplomat, who's often regarded as the greatest admiral in Chinese history.
His laughter is uproarious when Ong replies mischievously: "No, no! Otherwise, I'd be rich already!"
PRESERVING FOR POSTERITY
Sidling over to the table where Ong and I are enjoying our light bites from the Peranakan kitchen, Baba Daniel Ang, fresh from his upbeat turn fronting his small band through a medley of familiar tunes, grins broadly at us before introducing himself jovially: "Hi, I'm Daniel Ang Yam Seng. Yes, yes, like yam seng! I think my father named me when he was drunk!"
The 53-year-old is another Melaka native, born and raised in Heeren Street, one of the residential streets within the core zone of the Melaka Unesco World Heritage Site. The former banker has been involved in the Persatuan Peranakan Cina Melaka (Melaka Chinese Peranakan Association) since 1988. Today, he's its vice president.
Asked to trace his journey into keroncong, the genial father of three, whose parents are both Peranakans, beams before winding back the years. "Back in my younger days, I used to act, dance and sing with my friends," he begins, adding: "Whenever the association held conventions or events, we, the youths would help to spearhead the activities."
Squinting his eyes in his attempts to recollect, Ang continues: "I remember one of the aunties from the association here approaching me and my friends all those years ago during one of our temple outings one Sunday. She told us she wanted to teach us to dance."
He was an 18-year-old ready for anything then, and certainly, the thought of being able to dance — and dance with girls too — was something he and his friends were happy to entertain.
"So, we joined the association here, forming the youth group, and learnt how to dance properly the Baba Nyonya dance," continues Ang, adding: "Thanks to the dancing, we got to go everywhere free. And that was a lure for other Peranakan youths to join. As the young members grew in number, the association became very active."
COMING TOGETHER
Later, sing-along sessions were introduced and that's when Ang and his uncle would lend their skills. "Uncle played the keyboard, and me, the guitar. Back then, we taught ourselves how to play," he shares.
Chuckling, he confides: "We just knew the double chords. Or single C chord. I picked up music at the age of 13. My parents could play the ukelele. I thought, why not I go one step higher. They played four strings, so I'll play six strings. That's when I decided to learn the guitar — the hard way. I studied the pictures in the chords book and played."
Ang and his friends performed at school camp fires, the temple, and gatherings. When his aunt bought a piano, his grandmother taught him Ang how to play it. "When the association started the sing-along group, my uncle played the keyboard and my friend, Victor, would bring along his drum."
Continuing, Ang recalls: "Another guy played the guitar, but we were short of a bassist. To complete the band, there was no choice but for me to pick up another instrument. I learnt to play bass!"
From sing-alongs, Ang and his friends decided to form a band sometime in 1992-93. "We called ourselves The Melodians," he remembers, before sharing: "We'd initially thought to name ourselves The Three Chords, because we could only play three chords. But my friend, who played the drum, rejected the idea. He wanted us to name our band The Melodians."
His friend's father used to be a member of the famous Keronchong Malindo, and was a well-known name in the industry. Continues Ang: "From there, we recruited more friends who could play instruments. It started from the club itself where members celebrated their birthdays. That's where our repertoire of songs was compiled and learnt. From playing at parties, we started performing at dinner events, and even played for the prime minister of Singapore."
Beaming, Ang reels off: "We went to Singapore for the opening of the Asian Civilisation Museum, which is a Peranakan museum. We also played for the sixth president of Singapore, the late S. Nathan. The name Melodians became recognised in the country, not only in Melaka, for 22 years."
The passing of time has seen the passing of several of the original band members. "There are only three left today — myself, Victor and Idris, the accordion player," says Ang, who was also a part of another band called Sweet Memories for 15 years as a drummer. Their front man was one Tony Franco who had a penchant for Tom Jones' songs.
It was only when he met Melissa Chan (heritage preservation advocate) and Cassel, the youngest member of the present orchestra, who plays the violin, that talks of keronchong took place.
Being so versatile, Ang knew that his group would have no problem adding keronchong to their repertoire. But something else happened before that to expedite their transformation. To cut a long short, one day JKKN (National Department for Culture and Arts) Selangor was organising an event called Keronchong Nusantara.
Remembers Ang: "The director called me and asked whether we could play keronchong at the event. I panicked. After all, we were just a simple band. We needed to turn ourselves into a proper keronchong troupe — and fast. There was no way we could get away with just a basic drum and keyboard. We had to be asli (authentic)!"
Continuing, he recalls: "I called my friend Idris (accordion) to join us, and Cassel, and a few other musicians, including Baba Ong (Cheng Hoe), survivor of Keronchong Malindo. Then we formed an orchestra and practised."
They only had a month to pull it all off. "We mati-mati (really) practised," exclaims Ang, before adding proudly that despite the odds, his band placed second in the competition that formed one of the event's components. "From there on, JKKN became aware of the existence of our association and that we — and Melaka — had a keronchong troupe.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
"It's ready to be revived," exclaims Ang passionately when asked about the potential demise of this heritage musical style. He acknowledges that it's going to be an uphill battle trying to convince the younger generation of the merits of keronchong.
Says Ang passionately: "I feel we need to inculcate the love for this music from school so the youngsters can learn to appreciate it. After all, if a school can have a brass band, why not a keronchong one too?"
His eyes flashing, Ang suggests: "We can also organise competitions among schools. Teach them and have competitions offering good prizes. Every school has a cultural society. This is how they can learn. We need to organise it annually. But then again, we need the support of the government. We're NGOs; non-governmental organisations. We don't have large funds. Maybe state government can help."
The beauty about keronchong, concludes Ang, casting a furtive look at his watch, is you can always innovate it to suit current flavours. "You can actually 'keronchong-ise' modern songs. Sing the song to a keronchong tempo. It's just a matter of how you arrange it."