Wayan Limbak, a living 'Kecak' dance legend

Wayan Limbak, a living 'Kecak' dance legend

By Intan Petersen

UBUD, Bali (JP): In 1933 there was a cholera outbreak in Wayan Limbak's village of Bedulu. It reoccurred every year, but this time there were more victims than usual. Amidst the sorrow in Bedulu, Ubud, a handsome foreigner, always in shorts and always riding a bicycle, would watch the people pray in the temple.

During the prayers the villagers performed the Sanghyang Djaran dance to chase away the evil spirits deemed to have brought the epidemic to their community. There were also young men sitting in a circle, chanting cak, cak, cak.

The "cak" serves as an oral accompaniment to the Sanghyang dance, a sacred dance which may only be performed in a temple. Cak also functions as a male choir singing prayers and hymns to invite the ancestors to descend. When the spirits are present, the dancers enter a trance along with the Sanghyang dancer.

The foreigner was spellbound by the sound and the undulating movements of the young men. The sound rose, grew sharper and sharper, until it crashed like cymbals. A cry followed, then silence, sending a magnetic surge through the foreigner's body.

But who was this handsome foreigner?

He was Walter Spies, a German aristocrat artist who came to Bali in 1927. His name is synonymous with the creation of the now famous Cak or Kecak dance. Spies also contributed to the overall cultural development of Bali.

Walter Spies was friends with Wayan Limbak, a Baris dancer in Bedulu who performed at all the temple ceremonies. As an artist, Spies wanted to bring the Cak out of the temple by removing the ritual elements.

Spies succeeded in modifying the Kecak dance and became friends with Limbak.

"Limbak's great gifts as a dancer has not found his full expression in Baris and I urged him to make something splendid out of the Kecak group of his own village," wrote Spies in the book, Dance and Drama in Bali.

Limbak later became the impetus behind the Kecak group in Bedulu.

"When Limbak sits among the group during the whole performance it is electrifying in its intensity and brilliance. Generally he roams on the outskirts, and only appears mysteriously among them when he rises like a portent to unfold the majesty of Kumbakarna," marveled Spies in the book.

Limbak, now 90 years old and a former Budulu village head, remembers his days with Spies fondly.

"Both Spies and I have always been looking for more expressive movements. I really enjoyed working with him," Limbak said.

Spies included elements of the Ramayana story in the Kecak dance to make it more lively. Limbak was given the role of Kumbakarna, the brother of Ravana. It was a role he loved most.

"Kumbakarna has authority," Limbak said. "It could be this Kumbakarna authority which got me chosen as village head," he added, half joking. Wayan Limbak was village head for 25 years.

Through close cooperation between Spies and Limbak, the modern Kecak dance was born. Today it is also known as the Monkey dance. It has been performed for tourists since the 1930s.

"At that time the Limbak Cak Group -- as they called us -- was very famous," said Limbak. "Mr. Spies had many friends. Each time foreigners would stay in Bali Hotel (the oldest hotel in Denpasar), he took them to watch Kecak at Goa Gajah (Elephant Cave), or sometimes the performance was moved to the front of the Samuan Tiga temple. But now the hotels, particularly five-star ones, invite Kecak dance groups so the guests need not leave the hotel."

The Kecak dance has become a cultural attraction of Bali. A tourist cannot count his visit complete without watching one of the many Kecak dance troupes.

"The present Kecak dance is quite different from the original one. Twenty dancers were enough, but now there are 50 to 70 dancers," Limbak pointed out.

"In the old days the dancers were filled with taksu (spirit) and enthusiasm, both those in the front and back rows. But nowadays the dancers' spirit and enthusiasm is no longer the same. It may be that the emphasis is only on the noise and the number of people," Limbak said.

He has devoted himself to dance throughout his long life.

Happiness

"My life cannot be separated from dance, but it is here also that I feel the happiness and sorrow in this life," he said.

"The sorrow that I still feel is the death of my son, the only one inheriting my dancing talent. My son, Wayan Losin, was ill ... his illness was mysterious, maybe someone was jealous," Limbak mulled, before relating the story of his son's death.

"At that time we had just arrived from a dancing mission in Czechoslovakia in 1955, and Losin who was only 17 years old was already an outstanding Legong Keraton dancer. He was my pride; as a dancer I felt his extraordinary gift. The taksu! At that time I was already appointed village head. My people were crying for days. Everybody loved Wayan Losin."

"Yeah, life is terrible sometimes, it's even taken away the people who were the most dear to us," he hissed.

But old Limbak's smile returned in a flash.

"In Czechoslovakia we danced for an audience of only 30. At that time I was the group leader. I played the gamelan and right after this I would dance. It is really funny remembering these bygone days," he said.

Today Wayan Limbak is one of the three remaining master dancers in Bali. The other two are Gede Geruh and Ida Wayan Padang, both experts in the Gambuh dance.

Wayan Limbak's name is legendary; an integral part of the famous Kecak dance. People still seek him out, and he was recently filmed by several foreign television companies who came to the island of the Gods.

He is still regarded as a suhu dancer (master), although he is no longer as energetic as he was in his younger years. His presence is anticipated at all ceremonies involving the Kecak dance.

"The more so if people want to see the ancient Kecak dance," he said, obviously proud of being a dancer in the first Kecak group.

He used the term "ancient" to distinguish the present day Kecak from the old version.

"The last time I danced was during the opening of the Grand Hyatt in 1991. There were 70 dancers," he recalled. "I came because I was especially invited by Anak Agung Gede Agung, the King of Gianyar," he said, making no attempt to restrain his pride.