English-version 'Wayang' loses something in translation

By Dini S. Djalal

JAKARTA (JP): The sight, even viewed closely, was familiar.

Two pesinden (singers of traditional Javanese songs), sitting demurely in their red kebaya, let out a melancholy lament as their male peers scaled the delicate melodies of a gamelan tune. Mallets fell on the gongs of the saron, cudgels struck the xylophone-like gender, filling the room with wistful harmonies on the sly side of unpredictable.

Behind a white screen flanked, at both ends with decorative leather puppets, crouched the dalang, playwright and producer of the evening's wayang kulit (shadow puppet) performance.

Then, just as jaded urban eyes were slowly adjusting to the air of Javanese mysticism, a tray of Dunkin Donuts boxes was ushered by, somewhat marring the view. And when the dalang launched the lakon (wayang storyline), introducing the Pandawa brothers of India's Mahabharata epic in slightly hesitant English, astonished spectators describing the event no longer had use of words such as "ordinary".

Extraordinary, odd, incomprehensible, mind-boggling, yawn- inducing: these were the adjectives bouncing between the walls of the American Embassy Club last Saturday night. One-in-a-million can also describe this rare wayang kulit performance in English. Unfortunately, the distinction wasn't enough for the restless who walked out halfway through the show, already shortened to two hours from the usual nine hours.

"I'm Western, I tried to follow the script and there wasn't any. The puppetry is magic, but it was just such hard work trying to understand," said an escapee from the audience.

The weary observers probably just didn't know what they were missing. As the plot onstage thickened, more and more Indonesians streamed in, their eyes intermittently glued to the stage and then wandering -- just like in traditional wayang performances. Hindered by linguistic obstacles it was far from perfect, the thought-provoking show was nevertheless a brave venture into unexplored territory.

Tradition

Among the myriad of arts embellishing Javanese society, few rival epoch-enduring wayang in social and even political importance. Having a 2000-year history pre-dating Hinduism's arrival to the archipelago in the 1st century A.D., wayang was first an animist means of communicating with one's ancestors. Dalangs mediated between the living and the dead whose shadows came and went on the screen dimly lit by lanterns.

When Hinduism (and later Buddhism) permeated Java's kingdoms, local leaders used this spellbinding media to spread the word of their new religion, eventually transplanting Indian heroes and stories in place of the indigenous ones. What remained of the native touch were the domestic settings and the beloved panakawan -- the wise clowns Petruk, Gareng, and Semar.

And it's these court jesters, particularly Semar, who embody wayang's philosophical soul, at least for the Javanese. Semar is stout, lumbering, and full of bad jokes, much like the common man, but his unpretentious judgment commands unparalleled power -- perhaps because his ordinariness is so easy to relate to. In wayang's multifarious world, Semar is not just the chief clown poking fun at the state of the nation; he's also chief deity.

Yet as any language novice unintentionally throwing down insults instead of jokes will concede, humor is often the first victim of translation.

Clowning

Unabashedly rowdy humor, often what makes all-night wayang performances so engaging, was the first thing noticeably absent from the English show. Blame this, and the show's other shortcomings, on the language barrier, explained the show's amateur dalang Siswadi Atmoyuwono.

Editing of the clowning segments (guyonan), he said, was necessary partly to save time -- "the jokes could have gone for an hour and I don't think they're that necessary" -- but also because they wouldn't muster much laughter.

"If I had translated the jokes into English, it just wouldn't have been so funny," said Siswadi, a native of Madiun who's job with the Department of Agriculture had taken him all across Indonesia.

It wouldn't be so easy, either. Although Siswadi became a language instructor at LIA (Language Institute of America) in 1975, he confesses, "My English isn't that good, but it's good enough." And although he has been a dalang for eight years, performing in Javanese at LIA, he says he was "more than a little nervous" at performing in English.

"Wayang doesn't have any text, it's all improvisation. Imagine improvising all that in English," he said.

If it was hard work for the dalang, it was even more difficult for some members of the audience. Yet when reminded that non- Indonesian watchers were losing the plot, Siswadi replied that wayang is an accumulated cultural experience rather than a singular performance. The key is familiarity.

"If people don't know the story to begin with, of course it's hard for them to follow," said Siswadi, referring to the enduring popularity of the wayang stories in Indonesian popular culture. Living with all-night wayang shows and folk theater in the countryside, and stage dances and television shows in the cities, many Javanese grow up with wayang tales as bedtime stories.

Siswadi was more apologetic about the event's poor sound system, which often obscured the clarity of the monologue.

A script garbled by faulty technology, however, cannot be blamed on the language barrier. But another problem Siswadi found challenging to overcome was the difficulty in modulating his voice in a second language.

Mastering a vocal range of up to nine tonal and pitch variations is part of the dalang's curriculum, as he alternates from aping the coarse Raksasa to the gentle Arjuna. A dalang, after all, is not only the director of all the scenes, juggling up to six puppets at a time, but also all the actors.

"It's so much easier changing your voice in Javanese. I was trying to modulate my voice, but sometimes these Javanese words would just come out!" said Siswadi.

Siswadi was encouraged, however, by the positive feedback given despite the show's faults. Enthusiastic support is what will keep Siswadi "experimenting" with the wayang craft.

"I don't know if he was just paying lip service or not, but after the show, this man told me he finally understood what wayang is all about!" said Siswadi.

And exactly what of the story's philosophical messages did his newfound fan pick up? Confessing that efforts at wayang education should be taken one small step at time, Siswadi laughed: "I don't think he got that far."