JP/18/BALI

JP/18/BALI

Devotional performance of the masters

I Wayan Juniartha The Jakarta Post/Denpasar, Bali

He wasn't a sentimental guy, who shed a tear during the Titanic or wept after reading Romeo and Juliet.

An Australian-educated banker, Marlowe Makaradhwaja is one of the few Balinese who could assess the world with cold, rational eyes.

On that Friday night, however, that rational outlook failed him.

His eyes, glistening with tears, mirrored the feelings in his heart. Yet, they weren't tears of sadness. They were the silent tears of joy, pride and adoration.

"I am very happy. I really love them and watching them dance together really moved me. This performance has shown me that they belong together and, above all, that they belong to this art, to this stage," he said with his gaze fixed on the stage before him.

Similar emotions were apparently shared by Marlowe's three- year old daughter Maithila Sasi Kirana. Cuddling her father, her wide, innocent eyes followed every move of the dancers.

At several points, her tiny arms made spontaneous gestures that mimicked the performers' movements. Most of the time, she stayed still, her angelic face focused on the stage, enraptured by the performance.

"I think she is really proud to watch her grandfather and grandmother performing together tonight," Marlowe said.

On the stage, Marlowe's mother, NLN Swasthi Widjaja was dancing in a graceful manner befitting of the role she played as Princess I Gusti Ngurah Kaleran.

Kaleran's trusted aide, played my Marlowe's aunt Ni Nyoman Candri, was sitting obediently in a corner, singing a melodious poem in praise of the princess' beauty. A few minutes earlier, his father, Made Bandem, had entranced the spectators with his majestic interpretation of the ancient Balinese king of Dalem Sagening.

It was a night of bittersweet joy for the Bandem family.

"The last time my father and mother danced together was in 1997. Their performance tonight means a lot to us, their children and grandchildren. It will be their legacy," Marlowe said.

His sister Warastrasari Dewi nodded in agreement.

The performance, however, did not only bring joy to the Bandem family but also to the performers themselves and the other members of the audience, the locals of Kapal village, some 15 kilometers west of Denpasar.

It also provided shining proof of the continuation of the sacred Ngayah tradition among the modern Balinese.

The ancient tradition

The performance was held in the outer yard of Purusada Temple, an ancient temple in Badung regency. Historical records mention the temple as the site where the great sage Nirartha outlined the specific religious duties of the island's two priestly clans, the Brahmin and the Sengguhu some 500 years ago.

"I was informed that the temple would hold the huge ritual of Manca Bali Krama in October. I immediately remembered that in my younger days I frequently performed Ngayah in this temple. At that moment, I suddenly felt the urge to perform Ngayah during the ritual," the 60-year-old I Made Bandem said.

The term Ngayah has been generally translated as either social dut or voluntary service the Balinese are required to do during temple festivals and traditional community events.

For the Balinese artists, however, the term represents the sacred, aesthetic bond between them and the divine protectors of the island's art.

The Balinese honor this bond by presenting offerings or organizing rituals. Balinese artists do so by performing their best works.

"In Bali, arts are sacred in nature. Aesthetic beauty (Sundaram) is one of the three main characteristic of the Divine. The other two are Truth (Satyam) and Transcendent (Siwam). That's why an offering of arts, of beauty, is an integral part of our ritual," Balinese scholar Sugi Kaleran said.

The important position of the arts has been revealed in various ancient treatise, from Prakempa to Bhuwana Kosa. The universe was created by Siwa through his cosmic dance of Siwa Nataraja. To save the earth from a catastrophic plague, the Hindu Trinity descended into the world and performed the dances of Jauk (Brahma), Telek (Wisnu) and Barong (Siwa).

"To prevent Kala from devouring the world, Wisnu acted as a dalang (puppet master) and performed the sacred Wayang Sapu Leger shadow puppet," Kaleran added.

Unlike ordinary performances, the performance in Ngayah bestows the artists with a heightened sense of emotional satisfaction.

"It was simply ecstatic, a performance without limit. We are no longer aware of the time or even the audience. We are experiencing Ketakson, being transformed from the dancer into the dance itself, from the devotee into the devotion," Bandem recalled.

"There was a time when we fell into a state of conscious trance, where we are fully aware of ourselves but at the same time had lost any sensation of gravity or exhaustion. It's like flying," he added.

This ecstatic state, the Ketakson, which could last for days, was considered as the sign of aesthetic excellence by the Balinese artists. In this respect, Ngayah was not only an opportunity to present an aesthetic offering to the Divine, but also a sacred communion with the source of the aesthetic energy itself.

"We are recharging our inner aesthetic power and realization, our Taksu, by Ngayah, by immersing ourselves in the greatest Taksu of all, the Taksu of the Almighty. That's Ketakson," Bandem stressed.

That's why Balinese artists have always treated Ngayah with respect, conducting various spiritual disciplines and rituals prior to the performance. And, using the best costumes, headgear and masks.

"The mask I wore was carved by the last king of Bangli, a dancer par excellence himself. It was bequeathed to my late father and then to me. It is an invaluable heirloom," Bandem said.

The belief of the sacred nature of arts and the importance of Ngayah has been passed down from generation to generation of Balinese artists. Interestingly, this belief is not limited to this camp of Balinese artists, but also to the more modern ones.

Bandem's troupe is obvious evidence of the persistence and all-encompassing influence of that belief. It comprised an amalgamation of western-educated scholars cum performers with the Balinese-educated traditional dancers.

Bandem, who is presently the rector of the Indonesian Institute of Arts (ISI) in Yogyakarta, and Nyoman Catra both earned their Ph.D in the US.

Bandem's wife Swasthi Widjaja was a Ph.D candidate. Meanwhile, Candri, Ketut Kodi and I Ketut Suweca were all Mpu, the traditional masters.

"Well, sure my father has a Ph.D, but deep in his heart he is a dancer from Singapadu village, the proud descendant of a long line of Balinese traditional dancers," Marlowe said.

The provocateurs

Just because the performance was religious in nature it does not mean that the performers do not go all out to entertain or enlighten the audience.

And that was definitely the case with the Bandem's troupe on that night. The troupe performed the masked dance drama of Topeng Panca. The story revolved around the historical military expedition sent by Dalem Sagening to crush the rebellious and demonic king Dalem Dukut on the neighboring island of Nusa Penida.

The roles of the provocateurs fell into the hands Kodi and Suweca, who acted as Penasar, the comical aides of Jelantik Bogol, Sagening's military commander.

They played the roles in a gleeful manner, lambasting the prevailing hypocrisy of the Balinese, including the most sensitive issue; their spiritual banality.

"Just because you present an expensive offering, organize a gigantic ritual, visit the temple regularly and pray at the top of your lungs does not mean you can claim to be a religious person. No way, my brother. not spirituality. It's an exhibition of your shallow pride and vanity," Penasar mocked the spectators.

He then reminded the spectators that there were four temples that the Balinese must visit in they wish to call themselves true Hindu followers.

"And I don't mean the temples of Besakih, Batur, Batukaru and Lempuyang," he stressed.

"The four temples are Compassion, Benevolence, Generosity and Tolerance. It's no good organizing a splendorous ritual when your neighbors are consumed by abject poverty," he shouted.

Kodi and Suweca are true masters in the art of eliciting a laugh before shocking the audience into a new realization.

"And that's the true objective of Balinese arts, to serve the Divine and to educate the public. That's why here in Bali an artist is called guru loka, teacher of the world," Bandem said.