Kata Penggemar

By Shaiful Mukhelas - Malaysia

It didn’t take a song for me to fall in love with Anggun Cipta Sasmi. Rather, that "love at first sight" was built through a 30 seconds glimpse of a small black and white advertisement in The Star newspaper circa 1998. 

 In the ad, albeit in black and white, Anggun wore a green, crinkled button-front blouson with three-quarter sleeves and a red, velvety paisley print wraparound skirt ― both were designed by revered French fashion designer Azzedine Alaïa ― and she posed against red milieu. The headline, which reads, “She doesn’t speak French but her French album received Gold Status,” caught my attention within immediate effect.

As a 14 years old boy whose mind was brimming with curiosity, I started to wonder, who is she and how could it be possible for someone who does not utter a single word in French (as simple and common as Bonjour, for example) could sell as many as 100,000 copies of French-language album in France? Digging deep into my half-empty memory, I recalled reading about her in a Malay newspaper and that was back in the early 90’s. Yes, she was that rock star from Indonesia and that was it. 

Soon, through a slew of print articles in newspapers and magazines, I began to learn more about her despite having no idea what does her first single “Snow on the Sahara”, which took the local airwaves by storm in the following year, sounded like. Through the write-ups, I was surprised and inspired at the same time by her no-turning-back decision of leaving her home country Indonesia to London then France to fulfil her dream of becoming a globally known star – a brave effort that deserves my great commend. But it surprised me more when she told The Sun newspaper (I wish I could recall the name of the writer) that she was over the moon when she heard Wings (Malaysia’s iconic rock band) had just released a new album.  

Over the years, I have people asking me over and over why am I so into Anggun when there are thousands of singers that perhaps, could have done better than her. Some even asked me why do I have a tendency of speaking highly on a singer from the neighbouring country instead of a home-grown talent such as Siti Nurhaliza? 

Well, my reason is pretty simple: Like Anggun, I have to admit that Siti Nurhaliza had gone through a perilous journey to success. However, albeit the treacherous path she had taken that has made her who she is today, Siti remains in the comfort of her own cocoon. She’s still singing in the same language to the same crowd who also speaks her language. Thus, there is nothing for her to be worried about in terms of acceptance. 

Au contraire, Anggun’s path to success was more treacherous than Siti due to several barriers that she had to face after moving to a new place – language, culture and acceptance. In an interview with FHM Magazine, Anggun once said that when she sent her demo tapes to the French recording companies, the tapes ended up not on the label A&R executive desks but the bin! They even told her to record her demos in French because there is no future for English music (Madonna and Beyoncé are considered different cases altogether because you know the theory well: Whatever that comes from the US sells wells, even in the most deserted island somewhere in the middle of vast Pacific).

That said, the first thing she had to do was to learn French and believe me, all that tongue-twisting pronunciations will take you more than a year to master. Somehow, her determination to learn French had influenced me to do the same. Well, before Anggun enticed me to learn the language seriously ― in my younger days case, nothing is serious and oftentimes ended halfway ― I did learn few words from Celine Dion through her songs D’Amour oú D’Amitié and Pour Que Tu M’Aimes Encore. But it seemed to me that Celine did not leave a lasting impact on me as French is her native language, not mine. 

Nevertheless, in Anggun’s case, she instilled this belief in me that if she, an Asian, could master the language; record a studio album in 1996 entitled Au Nom de la Lune (In the name of the moon); and garnered a Gold Status before the worldwide release of her English version effort (Snow on the Sahara or eponymously titled Anggun in Indonesia and Japan), then why can’t I take my French seriously? And believe it or not, before I encounter publications such as Vogue Paris and Paris Match, Au Nom de La Lune was one of my learning tools, besides the Internet. All I did was playing the album over and over and learned how to pronounce the words correctly. For instance, Âme (Soul) is pronounced as AHM, not am; Doigts (Fingers) is DWAH, not doits; and Rêve (Dream) as REV not revey.    

Influence-wise, Anggun imparted a great impact during my puberty years. As a child, I used to loathe the fact than I am part-Javanese due to the lack of exposure to the Javanese culture. Things changed when I listened to her second single A Rose in the Wind or La Rose des Vents in French which, among others, interweaves the sounds of traditional Javanese musical instruments such as ney flute, kemeceh and kemiri with the contemporary beats of the drums and synthesizers. Though the French version may sound tad Hindu-esque due to the mentions of Hindu deities Ganesha and Shiva, I began to appreciate the beauty of Javanese culture that for centuries have been heavily influenced by Hinduism (think Majapahit period).  

Besides Madonna, Anggun was ― and still is ― a fervent obsession of mine. Just months after Chrysalis was released, I could not help it but to bug Sony Music Malaysia (now Sony Music Entertainment) via the public phone, asking them when Anggun is coming to Malaysia. More often than not, the answer would be no. 

However, there was a time when I called in and I was told that Anggun will be visiting KL next week. I was absolutely over the moon but too bad, I was just 16 back then and the showcase was opened for those aged 18 and above. 

But the years of anticipating was finally paid off when I managed to catch a glimpse of Anggun in flesh at her promotional showcase held at the Istana Hotel grand ballroom, in conjunction with the Malaysian release of her album entitled Elevation. I have to say she sounded better in live compared to the album and I can’t help it but to sing along to every single song! 

At a time where teens of my age were either rushing to the hair salons to colour their hair in the shades of browns and blondes, she made me proud of my Asian heritage. In fact, the sight of her long, silky black hair parted in the middle ― truly befitting her Javanese princess image at the time ― actually killed the thought of getting my hair dyed in funny colours just for the sake of being in the crowd. In a nutshell, I can say that Anggun saved my hair from the harm of harmful ammonia contained in the colorants.

As I was writing this piece tonight, her second album Chrysalis (Dèsirs Contraires in French) was on repeat play mode. Though Chrysalis is slightly different than the first record ― less traditional instrument approach; more European feel; and personally-written lyrics ― I assume Chrysalis is the epitome of her ― a star who left the comfort of her own home and the admiration of her people in place of a perilous journey to global fame and recognition that was handsomely paid in the end.

To Anggun, if you happen to read this piece, I would like to say, “Merci beaucoup pour tes musique qui m’ensorcellent et m’inspirant. Oh, and not to forget, aku cinta kamu!”