Tejakula performances reveal unknown layer of cultural life

Benito Lopulalan, Contributor, Tejakula, Buleleng

Has anyone ever heard about Tejakula in Bali?

On the map, Tejakula is an isolated dot midway on the dry coastal road from Singaraja in the north of Bali to Karangasem regency in the east of the island.

A few aficionados of Balinese culture will tell you that it is home to Bali's most famous wayang wong: a classical dance featuring Rama and the monkey kings of the Ramayana epic.

But the beach is dull and apart from its isolated location, there is apparently little else to enjoy. It is a place few people would select for the holding of a cultural event.

Yet one of the most interesting events Bali has staged recently took place there last Saturday. A theatrical performance called Persamuan Samudra Giri (Encounter of Sea and Earth) brought together itinerant artists from Java, a theater group from Denpasar and local village artists.

It took place at the Taman Seni Cili Mas, a park that houses a combination of beach bungalows and a cultural center. It was set up by Nyoman Tusan, Bali's first modernist painter, who dreamed of bringing combining the creativity of Balinese tradition with that of contemporary art.

The itinerant artists were invited by the Tejakukus Foundation of Tejakula, and the Dharma Nature Time, a Bali-based art association.

The event was particularly interesting in the way it revealed the existence of a virtually unknown layer of Indonesian cultural life, in this case, that of the itinerant artists.

Take for example the choice of venue.

So as to cater to the needs of urban readers, the media tends to cover events at prestigious venues like galleries and museums based on the assumption that these are the lifeblood of the art market, and unfortunately pay little attention to people who purposefully position themselves outside the mainstream.

The itinerant artist tradition, however, harks back far into the past to the wandering warriors of the wayang stories and the wandering "students of wisdom" of the Javanese epic recorded in the Serat Centini.

But today's wandering artists are not merely searching for spiritual enlightenment.

Winarcho, 41, one of the invited artists, explained, "When I enter a village, I usually live among the local people for several weeks or months before I do an installation event with them, bringing together ceremony and ecology, and thus creating a kind of new awareness among the local people."

To these artists, therefore, the notion of "art" and the recognition it entails are irrelevant. What matters is "communication". Their "action" negates all boundaries, be they between art genres, between "art" and "non-art", and between social classes.

It is an attempt at reestablishing primeval unity. Cultural encounters are sometimes organized where these artists meet other artists with similar leanings, far from the beaten path, far from the art-lover crowds of elite tastes and postures, and with no other spectators than dumbfounded villagers from the surrounding area.

In Tejakula, the three itinerant artists from Java -- Winarcho, Oentong Nugroho, and Adji Nugroho -- combined their action with Teater Got from Denpasar, under the direction of Agung Eksa.

It started with an installation-cum-performance of the Teater Got. Cardboard puppets were placed in a semicircle on the sand of the beach as in preparation of a primitive religious rite.

The performers, their bodies painted in earthy colors, then surged in slow motion from the sand where they had been lying, as if they were being born from the clay of the earth.

The spectators -- village children and young people -- watched in respectful silence, as if witnessing a ritual to honor the earth goddess, Pertiwi.

Then, one of the actors picked up a hammer, and with slow gestures, repeatedly hit a big stone, symbolizing Man's burden of work and labor. As he was doing so, other actors were slowly standing up and moving forward, uttering mantraic exclamations and poems.

Then the actors all stood up, walking slowly, a crowd of gleeful youth in tow, heading in silence for the village one kilometer away. Then they walked back to a different part of the beach, where installations from the wandering artists waited for them.

They ended their journey with a ritual bath in the sea, which symbolizing the rediscovery of harmony with the earth and the sea.

Just by the sea, a small river had dried up leaving a pool behind, and it was here that Winarcho, Oentong Nugroho and Adji Nugroho presented their show.

Their theme was unity, the encounter of sea and earth, river and sea, sea and river, light and night, and Man with all of these.

Just by the beach, Oentong had made a small pyramid of stones. Nearby, Winarcho had hung a big stone from ropes over the small river, adding a dimension of air, while up the river bed, Adji Nugroho had created imaginary objects from roots and twigs.

They would have all remained mere installations though if life hadn't been suddenly instilled into them.

Indeed, it was sunset, and as darkness slowly enveloped the sea, river and trees, lines of flickering candles little by little appeared, and suddenly, a thundering howl came from the sea: Winarcho standing there, shrouded in a white cloth that grew darker with the waning of the sun.

Then, still howling, he wobbled out from the sea and into the waiting pool, placing a light just below the hanging stone. With no other spectators than this writer and a couple of friends from Denpasar, Winarcho was creating his own ritual encounter between Man and Nature.

Thank goodness, even as mass culture spreads everywhere, there still remain people who are able to recreate the spell of human primeval calls.

Then followed a creation by local Tejakula artists, Mr. and Mrs Dewi, featuring the union of Baruna -- the Ocean god -- and Pertiwi.

Held on the beach at night, and consisting of a dance performed in "shadows" from behind a wayang screen, as children sung and danced the kecak and jangger in front, it was yet another homage to the soul of nature.

Hopefully, the spirit that has animated this Samudra Giri event will continue inspiring the public. The point is, artists do not need exposure nor spectators when haunted by the presence of Nature.