(Part 2)
THE revival of the sape is only one part of a broader cultural resurgence taking place across Sarawak. Beyond this iconic instrument, a deeper movement is growing, led by musicians who carry ancestral memory while reimagining indigenous identity through sound. These artistes are not only preserving their heritage. They are propelling it forward, both locally and globally, inviting new generations to rediscover their roots.
Alena Murang: The keeper of ancestral strings
Alena Murang is among the first women to perform the sape professionally. Of Kelabit and European descent, she has emerged as a global representative of Sarawak’s indigenous culture. Her mission is to give voice to her ancestors and reveal the depth and beauty of Borneo’s traditions.
“When I sing in Kelabit or Kenyah, I am singing stories that are hundreds of years old.
“Even though most of my audience may not understand the words, they feel something. They feel the emotion and the connection,” she explained.
Alena has performed on international stages in cities such as Paris and Tokyo. At one concert, she stood before a crowd of 20,000 people.


ancestral music in modern times.
“That number was more than my entire community. It really struck me how powerful music can be in connecting people across different worlds,” she recalled.
More than just a performer, Alena is also a researcher, educator, and visual artist. Her recent work includes a digital documentary that records the lives of elderly sape masters and traditional singers. Their knowledge, she believes, is precious and at risk of being lost.
“We are in a race against silence. If we do not record these songs, chants, and techniques now, they may disappear forever,” she said.
Alena also challenges common perceptions of indigenous art.
“People tend to exoticise us. They see the feathers and beads, but they miss the depth and complexity of our art and philosophy. Our music has always been advanced and meaningful. We are not stuck in the past. We are evolving,” she enthused.
Nading Rhapsody: Guardians of ritual and shapers of sound
While Alena tells stories through melody, Nading Rhapsody captures attention through theatrical energy and ritualistic sound.
Formed more than a decade ago, the group combines Iban, Bidayuh, and Melanau chants with experimental music and performance art. Their work challenges the boundaries of what traditional music can be.
“We are not just recreating what has already been done. We are creating a new identity. It is rooted in the old, but it speaks to the present,” said Kulleh Grasi, a poet and vocalist with the group.
With Opah Aspa’s powerful voice leading the ensemble, Nading Rhapsody crafts performances that are both emotionally immersive and informed by deep field research and ceremonial influence.


showcases their cultural roots.
“We go into villages, speak with elders, listen to oral histories, and then reinterpret them.
“Sometimes we preserve the original chants. Sometimes we create something entirely new, inspired by ancestral ideas,” she said.
Despite their innovation, funding remains a major hurdle.
“There is some government support. But the process is slow and complicated.
“Many of our projects and albums are self-funded. We are not doing this for money. We are doing it because it matters,” Kulleh explained.
In 2024, the group launched a mini digital series that retold Bidayuh folklore using electronic music. It was designed to engage younger generations through modern platforms.
“If they will not come to the longhouse, then we will bring the longhouse to them. Through YouTube, TikTok, and virtual reality,” said Opah.
At Adau: Weaving generations through rhythm
At Adau has been active for nearly a decade. Their unique blend of sape, kompang, djembe, and world percussion has earned them fans both locally and internationally. With roots in Dayak traditions and a sound shaped by global influences, they have performed in countries including Taiwan, South Korea, and across Southeast Asia.
For At Adau, music is not just about performance. It is also about education and cultural continuity.
“We are not just here to play music. We conduct workshops for schools and communities. We teach children how to make and play instruments, and help them understand their cultural background,” said Ezra Tekola, a sape player and vocalist.
Ezra believes that cultural revival must begin with early exposure.
“You cannot expect a teenager to love the sape if they have never seen one. Cultural learning should be part of everyday life, just like riding a bicycle,” he said.
At Adau still faces financial constraints despite having enjoyed international exposure and being regular performers at the Rainforest World Music Festival.
“People assume we are living a glamorous life, travelling the world. But each performance involves personal sacrifice. Flights are expensive. We often pay from our own pockets,” he added.
Ezra believes there is a need for a stronger support ecosystem for indigenous music, adding, “We need music awards that honour traditional genres. We need grants, dedicated airplay, artiste residencies. Right now, many of us are surviving on passion alone.”

A shared song: Challenges and hope
Despite their different musical approaches, Alena Murang, Nading Rhapsody, and At Adau are united in their vision. They want Sarawak’s music to remain a living tradition, not a museum artefact. They call for accessible funding, better documentation, transparent grants, and long-term international strategies to support Sarawak’s unique soundscape.
“There is no lack of talent. What we lack is support,” said Kulleh.
The challenges they face go beyond money. They speak of vanishing languages, diminishing cultural memory, and the passing of elders who hold centuries of unwritten knowledge.
“We are losing stories. We are losing words. Music is how we hold on. Not just to the past, but to who we are,” said Alena.
Their call is not just for recognition, but for sustainable infrastructure that allows indigenous music to thrive in the modern world. This includes digital archiving, inclusion in national music education, and platforms that reach rural and urban youth alike.
As the world changes, these musicians insist that their traditions must not be left behind. Instead, they see music as a bridge—one that connects generations, cultures, and communities.
Rewriting the narrative of sound
Music is more than entertainment. It is identity, memory, resistance, and belonging. For Sarawak’s cultural musicians, it carries the wisdom of generations and the spirit of the land. Through the soulful performances of Alena Murang, the bold experimentation of Nading Rhapsody, and the grassroots teaching of At Adau, a powerful cultural narrative is being renewed and reshaped.
Their music does not just echo through time. It speaks to the present and helps shape the future. Each chant, rhythm, and pluck of the sape is not only a tribute to the past. It is also an act of resilience and vision.
With every performance, these artistes are not merely preserving their culture. They are helping it thrive.





