Dancer twirls crockery in homage to mother
By Sirikit Syah
SURABAYA (JP): Parmin Ras broke dozens of plates during the painstaking creative process for refining his dance number, The Empty Plates.
It was not a pleasant experience, especially when the family income depended on how many bowls of gado-gado salad his wife could sell every day.
"And Parmin didn't want to practice with plastic or metal plates, he insisted on ceramic or glass plates," explained Listyas, married to the dancer for 20 years.
Result is that Parmin is now uncannily familiar with the crockery. He can twist and turn them in his hands however he likes, and they still stick without any use of material assistance.
He boasted he recorded "zero percent dropping possibility".
The Empty Plates composition is in memory of his mother.
"I remember her love and care, feeding us, 11 children, in times of difficulty," said Parmin, who is in his 40s.
Dancing on and with plates expresses his gratitude to her. When he performed the dance in England last year, several audience members cried at the sincerity of his work, he said.
The Empty Plates is one of three compositions he will perform in Australia later this month at the invitation of the Dancehouse: Center for Moving Arts in Victoria. He will also conduct workshops.
Parmin, scheduled to leave for Victoria today, will also include The Frame and 7 Hours of Movement.
"For The Frame, I will use support from Australian dancers, and that's why we need to have two weeks of workshops prior to the performance."
He planned to invite several Indonesian dancers and musicians to support him in the other compositions, but there were financial problems. Dancehouse is only taking care of his daily needs, excluding the cost of air tickets.
The Frame is a reflection of a social phenomenon, while 7 Hours of Movement is about life, an interaction between man and God, the environment and the community surrounding him. For seven hours, Parmin will move and shake every part of his body in an open arena, interacting with life surrounding him.
From August to November of last year, Parmin was in Britain, attending an international festival of art, movement and theater in Devon. He also performed in London, Aberdare, Bath, Fromme, and Birmingham.
"I am happy because I could share my artistic experience with my colleagues there. I conducted workshops, and they were very enthusiastic to participate."
He said his students had little difficulty in adapting to Eastern movements "because most of them know something about Indian traditional dances".
Living abroad for three months was not always fun. He ran out of money several times. Parmin overcame his financial problems by working as a studio model for artists and taking odd jobs.
But he continued with his main goals to dance and to teach dancing. He must have impressed someone -- he has received an invitation to return, this time from July until the end of the year.
The father of three -- one of them is enrolled in dance at the Jakarta Art Institute -- never studied dance formally. He developed his love of the arts and dance from his grandfather, a dalang, or puppet master.
Parmin has dedicated more than half his life to dancing, even though the income is small and often erratic. He rarely gets regular performance jobs because his dance technique is unique, unusual and contemporary -- the unpopular kind.
In Ozone 2040, for instance, he included his small son, who hid within a drum full of a gooey liquid before appearing before the audience.
In 1996, when he debuted 7 Hours of Movement, he started dancing at dawn in his neighborhood, to the bemusement of his neighbors. He moved while preparing his children to go to school and kissing them goodbye, having breakfast with his wife and communicating with passersby.
The "show" finally ended at noon.
"I've heard it all before," the long-suffering Listyas said. "People say funny things about my husband.
"It's all right because I support him."