village to hotel--bookending Balinese dance

Readers may recall from my July 18 post a discussion about art created for the Balinese in a village context and art created for the tourists. I have posted images from that memorable day, which included a morning visit to Asak, a village in the eastern part of the island, and an evening performance at Tandjung Sari Hotel.

Looking at the pictures, you may notice differences in place/staging/lighting, and makeup/costume. Most striking to me, although not obvious from the photos, was the difference in attitude of the dancers. At Asak, the young village women dance the way any young person participating in their community life does--with a mix of eyes-rolled obligation to family, peer bonding, and excitement of being able to dress up and fulfill a central role on the community stage. The performers at Tandjung Sari represent the budding talent of professional Balinese dance. They may also perform at their home village temple ceremonies, but their skill and training sets them apart as an elite artist with the potential to earn a relatively high status (if not particularly lucrative) living from their talent.













At yet another event in Singapadu I witnessed what seems to represent a third category of dance performance in Bali--that of professional dancers performing for a Balinese audience in a hybrid of sacred ritual and pure entertainment. The Singapadu performance featured highly trained, world-class Balinese dancers on a stage mounted in the village temple, but with rather professional lighting and staging. The stage backdrop is painted to mimic a temple gate and is set up for such special performances. The powerful, boar-headed temple barong was danced at the beginning of the evening. Everyone was dressed in formal temple costumes and the sassy boys kicking my chair and goofing for my cameras still had rice stuck to their foreheads from being blessed earlier. But judging from the anticipation of the crowd who lined up chairs in front of the stage, the dance part of the ritual clearly provided entertainment on top of whatever sacred function it served.

We had heard about this performance from the master dance teacher, scholar, and choreographer I Wayan Dibia who had danced the evening before at Singapadu. That afternoon, he arranged for us to meet the renowned, senior mask maker I Wayan Tangguh, and his son, I Ketut Kodi, a great topeng dancer. Pak Kodi was shy and distracted when we met; we had called him away from temple preparations for the evening ceremony and performance. On stage (see the bottom right image) he was like a completely different person. He reminded me of the great Shakespearean character actors, who give life, humor, and sparkle to classic tales. Even though I could not understand the dialogue, I found myself laughing at his antics, and was completely caught up in his character.

The Singapadu performance in a way evokes the state of Balinese dance today--a vessel supported by three legs: village, hotel, and academy. To survive, Balinese dance will likely have to be relevant to Balinese temple life AND tourist dollars. Although many people I spoke with bemoaned the homogenizing influence of the dance universities on Balinese dance, this institution provides needed connective tissue as village teachers die off and young people get distracted by modern life. This remains one of the most compelling debates about the future of Balinese dance--how can dancers retain their particular village traditions while training at the professional and standardized dance academies?

--DC

Images:

Top left: Asak temple dance
Top right: Tandjung Sari Hotel dancer
Bottow left: Barong dance at Singapadu
Bottom right: Pak Kodi as "The Old Man" in Singapadu

From village to tourist resort--Balinese dance

Yesterday we drove about 1 1/2 hours to Asak, a village in Karangasam for the "usaba sumbu" ceremony, which I understand is held once a year in honor of the rice goddess and the god of wealth. When we arrived a little after 9am about 40 (I will need to look at the photo and count) young women were already dancing. There were only a few other people at the temple, most of whom were working preparing food, testing the mic, etc. Gradually a steady stream of families arrived, with the women carrying towering offerings of food on their heads. Occassionally an entire roasted pig was carried in on a long bamboo pole, which steamed as the pig was slid off onto the offering platform in the center of the temple courtyard. Villagers prayed and were given holy water by the priests, and then people hung around and waited for the main cermony.

Most of the morning, the young women continued their dance. They stood in columns, each holding the sash of the girl behind her over her right shoulder. The dance was a few simple steps and dips, and arms sweeps with multiple colored dance sashes. They wore elaborate golden headdresses and very little makeup as compared to the dancers you see in performances intended for tourists. No one besides us payed much attention to the dancers. When I mentioned this to some Bali experts they explained this is because the dance was for the gods not necessarily people.

Mats were laid down and people began to sit down in what shade they could find from the archway of palm branches that were placed there for the ceremony. One side of the dance column moved over to allow more space for people to sit. The platform was now full of offerings. Finally the dance ended and anyone left standing now sat (including us). The priest performed a ritual in a small altar hut near the offerings. He was mic'd and chanted and people raised hands in prayer at various points or held up a small flower (id they had one) near their chests at others. At some points everyone joined in saying the prayers. The priests then came around with holy water which was sprinkled on heads and poured into hands for three drinks. We were off to the side, but the priest could tell we wished to be blessed as well, and with a slight roll of his eyes, gave us holy water too. Once this was complete many people collected their offerings and left the temple.

In the very same day, we experienced a very different form of Balinese dance--that of a professionally trained group that, from what I can tell, performs mostly for foreign tourists, called Tandjung Sari, who performed for a dinner party for the Jade Circle at the Tandjung Sari Hotel. These dancers were impressively well trained and performed with a fine precision. More impressive still was the young ages of the dancers, the youngest were 5 years old. The boy who performed the Baris (warrior dance) was particularly impressive. There were few Balinese watching the performance. The dancers were heavily made up, there were stage lights (which made my videotaping much easier) and had very elaborate, and fine costumes.

For me it was a wonderful demonstration of the dichotomy I have often heard about--Balinese art created for the Balinese (or more accurately perhaps, art for the gods) and art created for the tourists. I don't have time at this sitting to explore this issue further but will come back to this in future, with some suggested readings.