The sasando is a rare instrument. It hails from the small Indonesian island of Rote, but it’s little-heard within Indonesia, and almost entirely unknown internationally. Although it looks a little like a short, squat harp, the sasando is a tube zither, its strings arranged in a full circle around a thick bamboo stem. In fact, it’s remarkably similar in sight and sound to its not-so-distant Austronesian cousin, the valiha from Madagascar.
The sasando’s most striking feature, however – and what sets it apart from its relatives – is the giant sail that is attached to both ends of its body, giving it a distinctly maritime feel. This sail is made from the leaves of the lontar palm, and serves the function of a soundbox – the space between the parabolic sail and the strings amplifies the sound, as well as bouncing it back to the musician (very useful when some of the strings are not visible behind the bamboo tube).
Polish musician Aga Ujma was a student at the Surakarta Institute of Arts in Indonesia when she first came across the sasando while at a music festival on Bokor island. She fell in love. “When I saw the sasando on stage for the first time, I was so mesmerised by how it looked, even before I heard it,” Ujma says. “But I really loved the sound and I was so lucky, I was staying at the same hostel as the musician, Ganzer Lana. He’s the main sasando guy in Indonesia, and he became my teacher.” She spent her final months in Indonesia studying under Lana, who crafted for Ujma her very own sasando, complete with specific innovations to allow for easy touring. It uses transducers to enable amplification, and can be mounted on a stand to be played sitting on a chair rather than – as traditional – on the floor. Even the sail has been modernised: “For most sasandos, it is always open. But mine folds up. This is a new invention that it folds, to make it easier to transport.” How many other musicians can say their instrument has a giant, telescopic sail?
The sasando has existed on Rote since at least the seventh century. At that time it only had five or eight strings, made from the bamboo stem’s skin, but it now has 32, made of wound metal. Having never played an instrument like it, it took some time for Ujma to become accustomed to the sasando. “It was very painful! Sometimes you play an instrument and you just don’t get it. Every person learns in a different way, but it was so difficult for me. You basically play four different things with two hands.” Around the 360° of strings, the musician plucks a bass pattern with their left fingers, chords with their right fingers and the melody with their thumbs. “My education as a classical pianist was actually really helpful, because it reminded me a lot of playing Bach’s fugues. You have to control so many melodies with just two hands, and that’s the same with sasando.”
Now based in London, Ujma’s music has gone from strength to strength, with Indonesian music playing a vital part. On her 2021 debut EP, Songs of Innocence and Experience, she shows off an undefinable alt-folk with distinct echoes of Björk and Joanna Newsom, and an intimate connection to the sounds of the sasando. As the zither doesn’t use the standard European equal-temperament tuning system, it lends Ujma’s melodies a shimmering, mystical quality.
For an instrument with such a unique construction, an ancient past and a beautiful, unearthly sound, it is tragic that the sasando is so little recognised outside of its own small island. But with the work of Ganzer Lana in Indonesia and Aga Ujma in Europe, more and more people are getting the opportunity to discover it for themselves – from Rote to the world.
Photo: Aga Ujma plays the sasando at the Serpentine Gallery, by Holly Whitaker.