AUGUST 29 — Right about now, there was supposed to be an unprecedented exhibition at a library in the federal capital showcasing photographs taken by Sultan Ismail Nasiruddin Shah of Terengganu in the months running up to Merdeka Day, augmented by other multimedia displays.
Alas, due to spectacular incompetence on the part of one of the co-organisers, the initiative has been shelved. I spoke to the custodian of the original prints, Raja Mohd Zainol Ihsan Shah, who in typical Terengganu manner concealed any hint of dejection with a good dose of humour.
His studio is in Taman Tunku, the unique crescent of shops, flats and offices in the northern corner of Bukit Tunku which has long attracted an eclectic mix of residents.
Famous lawyers and architects, directors and musicians, educators and designers have ensconced themselves across the blocks, while pilates, gym sessions and alternative therapies occur behind unassuming doors.
In 2009, IDEAS occupied a single bedroom in one of the apartments: Today we have our own three bedroom unit.
The result of this variety — and a hitherto liberal attitude towards renovations — is that each unit has become highly personalised. While newer tenants have erected glass walls and assembled IKEA meeting tables, older units feature antiques with forgotten provenances and bookshelves warped from the weight of barely read books whose musky scent is still dispersed by creaking ceiling fans.
Raja Ihsan’s unit, containing the greatest collection of photographs of Malaya in the forties, fifties and sixties, is the epitome of the latter, with paintings and prints all round fighting for hanging and leaning space. The collector has acceded to special exhibitions of his grandfather’s work before, including one in 1998 sponsored by Malaysia Airlines.
The preface of the accompanying catalogue then explained: “It was in the 1950’s that His Royal Highness’s accomplishments began to attract increasing attention. A Malay Sultan who was obsessed with capturing images of his people had become a talking point amongst photography enthusiasts. He captured these scenes with his astute vision and a heartfelt passion.”
Even in that little booklet, there are photographs that capture Malayan life through exceedingly rare lens: Everyday ongoings at Port Swettenham and the Kuala Lumpur Railway Station, a nonchalant drinks stall at the foot of an empty staircase to Batu Caves, a night scene at the Malaya Independence Trade Fair of 1957 (where the Ruler’s earlier photos were exhibited) and the roof of Istana Maziah decorated to celebrate Merdeka.
The Sultan’s photographs capture cultural and political transformations too. Then, people looked as if they enjoyed and felt included in grand celebrations of state: Pomp and circumstance seemed more dignified even though resources were meagre — certainly, there were no corporate sponsors. Also omnipresent was homage to federalism: State flags and crests adorned the streets, with the federation flag first amongst equals, instead of today’s preference for festooning only the Jalur Gemilang.
Nowhere is this point more strongly made than in one amazing image I discovered in the collection: A colour photograph taken by an aide of Sultan Ismail sitting behind the royal dais in the stadium on Merdeka Day.
Most Malaysians will associate Merdeka Day with just one picture: That of Tunku Abdul Rahman with hand outstretched while shouting “Merdeka”, one of seven times.
Bigger versions of that photo include the Sultan of Selangor, the British High Commissioner, the Duke of Gloucester, the Yang diPertuan Agong and the Sultan of Pahang — but there are no publicly available photographs showing all thirteen dignitaries sitting on the platform that was hastily assembled after the rain stopped that morning.
Even the rarely-played video footage does not contain a full shot of the dais in decent resolution.
The photo from Raja Ihsan’s collection was the first I had seen which showed everyone from the Regent of Negri Sembilan to the Tunku Mahkota of Johor, albeit from the back.
Having found the photo, I immediately thought IDEAS should use it for our Merdeka and Malaysia Day greeting card (we sent no Raya cards this year), accompanied by a caption to show who was seated where.
Astonishingly, there is no easily available listing of the individuals present: I had to work it out by checking the order of precedence against written accounts of what the Rulers in attendance wore, and analysing their headgear (state-specific folds have not changed in centuries). Notably, the Governors of Penang and Malacca, who were appointed that day, were not on the dais.
Now, after 57 years, a small version of the picture has been released. It can be seen at sultanismailphotographs.com, which holds a selection from the archives of the pioneering photographer who was fifteenth Sultan of Terengganu and fourth Yang di-Pertuan Agong of Malaysia.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
