(Part 3)
THE heartbeat of Sarawak’s musical revival does not echo in isolation.
Each year, it crescendos under the lush canopies of Santubong during the Rainforest World Music Festival (RWMF), an event that began as a modest gathering and has since flourished into an internationally acclaimed platform for cultural preservation, indigenous pride, and global connection.
More than just a festival, RWMF is a movement. It gave traditional musicians a stage, brought unheard voices to global attention, and reminded Sarawakians of the rich heritage within their own backyard.
Planting the seed
“When we first started, it wasn’t about going global. We simply wanted to create something meaningful. Something that brought people together through music and culture,” recalled Datuk Aloysius J Dris, the founding chief executive officer of the Sarawak Tourism Board (STB), and one of the key visionaries behind RWMF.
The seed of the idea was planted in the early 1990s. Backed by the Sarawak government and contributions from tourism stakeholders, seasoned industry players, and international cultural advocates, STB began shaping what would eventually become Asia’s most iconic world music event.
The festival was one of the flagship initiatives under the Second Tourism Master Plan, a comprehensive strategy to elevate Sarawak’s cultural tourism.
“We had people from the Sarawak Tourist Association and even passionate individuals from overseas who gave their feedback, both good and critical. We were new to the industry, but we welcomed all of it,” said Aloysius.
Among the festival’s most crucial champions was the late Tan Sri Dr James Jemut Masing, who was Minister for Tourism at that time.
Both Aloysius and cultural advocate Gracie Geikie remember how Masing’s decisive political support helped transform a bold concept into a lasting reality.
“He was a godsend. Once something made sense, he backed it – from board papers to Cabinet approvals. We weren’t afraid to disagree, but once a decision was made, we moved forward,” Aloysius said.
Origins in trust and vision
Gracie, who later served as STB’s CEO from 2005 to 2009, recalls the defining moment that sparked RWMF into existence.
The early planning team, including Robert Basiuk, Edgar Ong, Edric Ong and Randy Raine-Reusch, came together with a shared vision to honour Sarawak’s ethnic music traditions while welcoming global artistic exchange.
“At that time, the idea of a music festival costing RM300,000 was unheard of.
“Most events received only a few thousand ringgit. When Robert Basiuk took the proposal to Masing and said it would cost RM300,000, it was shocking – that’s the equivalent of RM3 million today,” Gracie said.
Even so, Masing backed the proposal. He later brought it to then Chief Minister Pehin Sri Abdul Taib Mahmud.
“James told Pehin Sri about our plan, that it was about preserving our ethnic music and introducing Sarawak to global artists. Pehin Sri said, ‘I don’t know, but I trust you. Just don’t let it fail. This is a lot of money.’ And that’s how it all began. James made it happen,” said Gracie.
This high-level endorsement was the boost the team needed to launch the festival as part of the state’s tourism strategy.
A global soundstage with local soul
The first RWMF in 1998 attracted just 300 people, many of them with complimentary tickets. At the time, the Sarawak Cultural Village had just opened, and world music was still a foreign concept to locals. Yet, the roots were planted.
Even before the first festival, STB had begun gaining international attention, winning accolades at the World Travel Mart (WTM) in London in 1995, a testament to Sarawak’s growing visibility.
When Gracie joined as STB CEO in 2005, her mission was to strengthen the festival’s sustainability.
“My role was to expand its reach and reduce reliance on government funding. But we never lost sight of the core — to conserve and celebrate ethnic music and instruments,” she said.
That focus bore fruit. RWMF became a launching pad for bands such as At Adau, Nading Rhapsody, Tuku Kame and solo artiste Alena Murang, all of whom have since represented Sarawak on international stages.
“I call it the Rhythms of the Rainforest. Even if you don’t understand the lyrics, the music speaks to something deep inside. That’s the magic,” Gracie reflected.
Gracie is also the advisor, co-author, and author of three notable publications: Rainforest World Music Festival – Sarawak’s Success Story, Parks and Art – Sarawak, and Rainforest World Music Festival – 20 Years of Song and Rhythm in Sarawak.
The soul of the festival: workshops and raw collaboration
As the festival grew, some early elements were lost. Gracie fondly remembers the Rainforest Music Workshops, once held in longhouses and celebrated for their intimacy and spontaneity.
“People would line up early just to attend. Musicians from different cultures would sit together, share instruments, tell stories, and improvise music on the spot. It was raw, emotional, unforgettable,” she said.
Even Masing would attend quietly, seated among the crowd.
“That was the soul of the festival,” Gracie added.
Today, she fears this spirit is fading. Many elder musicians have aged. Traditional knowledge is at risk.
“The original notes are disappearing. Someone like Matthew Ngau, a renowned sape player, can still teach, and thankfully, some of that wisdom has been passed to his son, who is one of the founders of the At Adau band. But how many Matthews do we have left?”
Still, Gracie finds hope in the younger generation. Bands like At Adau and Nading Rhapsody are fusing traditional instruments with modern genres, keeping cultural sounds alive and evolving.
“They’re not just performers. They are custodians of our heritage, keeping it relevant and deeply rooted,” she said.
Adapting through the pandemic
The Covid-19 pandemic in 2020 forced a complete reinvention. In 2021, Gracie was invited back to help lead a virtual edition of RWMF.
“Despite everything, it turned out beautifully. We had musicians recording from Penang, Canada, and elsewhere. Randy coordinated the international acts. Over 400,000 people tuned in,” she said.
In 2022, a hybrid model emerged, combining in-person and virtual performances. While some veteran musicians opted not to travel, the festival pressed on.
“It wasn’t just a backup plan. It kept the spirit alive,” said Gracie.
A stage for the people
Though the festival continues to gain prestige, Aloysius raises concerns over ticket affordability.
“Back then, tickets were RM20 to RM25. Now they’re RM300 per day. That’s painful for locals.
“Students, families – they deserve access too. It should be cheaper for locals. We need to ask: are we still sharing our culture, or has it become exclusive?”
Despite rising costs, both Aloysius and Gracie agree that RWMF’s true victory lies in how it gave traditional musicians a platform.
“These were artists playing in longhouses, often unrecognised. But on the Rainforest stage, they were celebrated,” Gracie said.
“To be seen, heard, and applauded, that’s powerful.”
Returning to the roots
As RWMF marked its 28th anniversary this year, its founders shared a unified message: never lose sight of the roots.
“We didn’t do this for profit. We did it to share what we have with the world, and with ourselves,” said Aloysius.
For Gracie, RWMF is more than a festival. It is living, breathing history.
“It took a Canadian to remind us of the value of our own music. Today, it’s up to us to keep it alive,” she said.
From the gentle whisper of the sape to the roar of an international crowd, the Rainforest World Music Festival stands as a vibrant testament to Sarawak’s cultural richness.
It bridges generations and communities, bringing ancestral traditions into meaningful dialogue with the modern world.
Sarawak’s musical journey is defined by creativity, resilience, and renewal.
As older traditions face the risk of fading, emerging artists are reshaping the soundscape with fresh energy and purpose.
The festival has become more than a celebration, it is a platform for cultural exchange, a symbol of identity, and a spark for global recognition.
In the hands of today’s musicians, the sounds of Sarawak continue to evolve, honouring their roots while embracing new possibilities for the future.
