Akbar Adhi Satrio tracks the origins and future of the ceramic dome, part of Indonesia’s Hindu heritage.
A mosque is a sacred place for all Muslims. It is the house of Allah: a place to pray five times a day and to conduct any other Islamic rituals. However, it is also often a place for the local community to gather for any occasion, from learning to read the Quran, children playing hide and seek or cat and mouse, to marriage ceremonies. For some others, including me, it is a place to rest the mind, body and soul, or simply a refuge from the scorching sun where one can lay back and relax.
Most people will quickly notice a mosque from its massive and distinctive bulbous dome. This rounded profile is one of the most perceptible elements in Islamic architectural design. However, in certain regions of Java, Hindu influence is still present and prominent, including in mosque architecture. Instead of using a dome, mosques in Java often feature multi-tiered roofs topped with mustoko or memolo/momolo. a sculptural ornament made of earthenware ceramic that enclosed its peak. This serves as a decorative crown as well as a cultural symbol of holiness. The structure exemplifies an early attempt at Islam acculturation, borrowing from the local Hinduism cosmology that revered the mountain (meru) as a sanctified place. While following or incorporating another belief system contravenes the Islamic sharia law, the practice of borrowing another religion persists as a cultural remnant from the past.
Memolo’s structure consists of five main parts made in sequential order: kaki, badan, makuta, gulu, undakan, and pudak. Kaki and badan mean foot and body in Indonesian and several other traditional languages. Hence, kaki in memolo means the base part, and badan means the main body part. Both serve as the main foundation for the whole structure. Gulu and undakan are the middle section or the neck part of the memolo (gulu itself means neck in Javanese language), connecting the base with the makuta or the crown part. Lastly, pudak is an accessory component of the crown that stands above each corner where the crown and the undakan intersect.
As contemporary architectural design has emerged, mosque design in Indonesia has become more explorative: the use of memolo is rarely found. However, memolo remains common in mosques around the Cirebon and Majalengka regions. A significant factor contributing to the continued presence of memolo in this area is the proximity of a traditional ceramic production village of SItiwinangun, located approximately 13.5 kilometres west of the city of Cirebon, or around a thirty-minute drive by car.
Through one of my recent trips to Cirebon, I had the chance to meet and converse with Pak Kadmiya (pak is an honorific title used to address adult to senior males in Javanese culture). Pak Kadmiya is one of the few remaining active memolo makers and one of the senior potters in Sitiwinangun. Born and raised in Sitiwinangun within a family of potters, he learned the trade of making ceramic in his younger years from his family or relatives who also lived nearby. However, he learned to make memolo as an autodidactic.
Alongside his profession as a civil servant in the local government office, he fulfills occasional orders to make memolo while producing other ceramic products such as tableware, sculptures, and souvenirs. Having multiple occupations is common among Sitiwinangun craftspeople, for whom pottery making is usually not their sole profession. His clients are not only from around Sitiwinangun and Majalengka, but also from other regions in Java. Despite the material’s fragility, the demand for Memolo perseveres, albeit with fluctuations. Nevertheless, this continued demand signs the cultural resilience of memolo both as an object and as a cultural practice.
During our brief conversation, Pak Kadmiya told me about a memolo project on which he was currently working, including its design and associated challenges. The recent design of memolo he produced was not strictly bound by certain cultural rules anymore, not only because the client requested certain modifications or improvisations made by him, but also due to the minimum documented record of knowledge regarding the production and concept of making memolo from the previous generation. As indicated previously, craftspeople in Sitiwinangun often acquired their skills through hereditary knowledge passed down from their family or relatives, or by working with a senior potter and learning the skill through observation and practice. The scarcity of written knowledge about memolo makes it harder for emerging potters to learn the trade and compels the current makers to improvise in developing it.
The future of memolo remains uncertain as many new mosques have begun to adapt to contemporary design or opt for prefabricated domes, which are more durable and easier to install. Likewise, the declining figure of memolo makers is concerning, with few ceramic artisans and potters showing interest in developing the craft further. In Sitiwinangun itself, the younger generation increasingly prefers to leave the village for employment in major cities or factories nearby that promise more stable income and corporate uniforms that they feel pride in wearing as a symbol of professional success.
“Inna ma’al usri yusra. Fa inna ma’al usri yusra”
For indeed, with hardship [will be] ease. Indeed, with hardship [will be] ease.
Drawing inspiration from two verses in one of the chapters in the Quran, Ash Sharh, I am reminded that hope persists even in times of struggle. While my concern continues that the practice of making memolo might disappear, I find encouragement in an emerging generation of potters who signal its continuation. During my fieldwork with Pak Kadmiya, I encountered Sariman and Arkima, his former apprentices, who have established their own pottery studio. I had also previously met Nurjaji and Yandi, specialists in sculptural pottery who had started their studio much earlier. Although none of them currently produces Memolo, their dedication has established a foundation for future generations to draw upon—much like the kaki of the memolo serves as the foundation from which the makuta rises.
About Akbar Adhi Satrio
Akbar Adhi Satrio is a designer-maker and craft design researcher working on the topic of kriya – a term for craft in Indonesian, with a particular focus on pottery. He is also an assistant professor at the Faculty of Fine Arts and Design, Institut Teknologi Bandung (ITB), Indonesia. He was a junior designer for Jenggala Keramik and briefly honed his pottery skills at Ryota Aoki Pottery in Toki, Gifu Prefecture, Japan. Adhi, a name his friends usually call him, is currently undertaking a PhD study at the School of Design, RMIT University, at the time of this article’s publication. Follow @a.asatrio or say hi to him through his email akbaradhi.s@itb.ac.id.