Reality dramatized by dance artists

JAKARTA (JP): Dance is an expression of thought and feelings combined with spontaneous or practiced movements.

That statement, made by the head of the Jakarta Arts Council dance committee, Maria D. Hoetomo, describes the dance performances at the Graha Bhakti Budaya stadium of the Taman Ismail Marzuki arts center, Central Jakarta.

The dances, performed Thursday and Friday by Benny Krisnawardi and Maria B. Apriati from Jakarta, Mugiyono from Surakarta in Central Java, and Didik Nini Thowok from Yogyakarta, are a collaboration of the city's arts council and the arts center.

Benny begun the evening's theme of Respon Seniman Tari Atas Realita (Dance Artist's Response Toward Reality) with Munsani, a story about a farmer suffering from the economic crisis and expressed in a semiclassical ballet performance.

The performance had its moments when Benny's lean limbs plied, jumped, performed split-and-turns, spelling out classical ballet. The rest of it could be billed under modern "dance-drama".

Maria's and Mugiyono's choreographies, however, were more drama than dance.

Maria, with tied, disheveled-looking hair and wearing black leotards, presented an untitled work which she said was about the rapes that occurred during the May riots.

This was not apparent during the "dance". She moved around the stage shaking her body violently, opening her mouth several times to let out voiceless screams and at times spoke to herself.

Maria, who took third place in last year's Modern Choreographies Festival held at Gedung Kesenian Jakarta and who is currently studying dance at the Jakarta Arts Institute, generated weak applause at the end of her performance.

This was followed by Mugiyono's acting out his choreography, Mei (May). He claimed the choreography was an embodiment of all the dreadful events in May including the riots, rapes, the economic crisis and the deaf ears of law enforcers, the Armed Forces and the police.

Bearded and dressed in white shorts, Mugiyono utilized a broom of wires to express his art form. There were some abstract moments to it.

At one time, he stood with legs apart and the broom pressed in between them. Later he used the broom as a fan and pressed his face against it.

Then he took a stack of papers and threw it all around him after pressing it against several parts of his body. This was followed by his taking the band off his broom and throwing the wires up in the air.

A delightful end to the evening's performances was Didik's literally, multifaceted choreography.

The owner of dance studios in seven towns presented a mesh of traditional dances, including Sundanese, Javanese and Bali, and those that typical of Didik, a male dancer who specializes in female dancing, both traditional and contemporary.

Titled, Topeng Nopeng (Masks), the dancer with long, skinny arms and lean fingers began the performance with the Javanese Gambyong dance from Surakarta, the Balinese Oleg and a Cirebon number.

This was followed by impersonations, to the very last movement, of an old lady; an old, dogged man; a disco dancer and several others.

A separate Topeng Walangkekek (Walangkekek Mask) number, comprising impersonations of three female characters -- a teenager, a proud woman and an old, almost blind woman -- was infused into the choreography.

The dance's ending moments had him in a wig, a red sequined bustier and knee-length skirt, and the crowning touch: a monkey mask.

With his back to the audience, he performed Indian dance steps before facing the audience, earning himself laughter, and moving, scratching and pulling his hair like a monkey.

The change in masks, headdresses and hair pieces and costume modifications were done within minutes.

With the end of Didik's dance, a dialog ensued in which all four choreographers told the stories behind their choreographies.

Didik said that except for the fact that his dance was choreographed to ease people's minds of their current burdens, it had nothing to do with the present situation.

"I think God created me to be a life-long comedian. That is my reality," the 44-year-old said.

"Someday I hope to perform in front of hospital patients, as long as they are not heart patients; they might die laughing."

Didik's dance was choreographed to generate loads of laughter but it was the preciseness of the various complex traditional dance steps, eye, arm and hand movements and an enigmatic smile that won the audience.

This could not have been more evident than during the Balinese number, when he wore no mask. (ylt)