THE PERFORMING ARTS

With over 100 troupes on the island, dance is at the very center of Balinese life and will probably be the most impressive thing you'll see and remember. In all, there are over 200 kinds of dances, though only around 20 are performed regularly, many still religious and each a composite of not only dance but drama, music, spoken poetry, opera, and song.
     There are frog dances, monkey dances, bumblebee dances, epic ballets, martial dances, dances for choosing a mate, and dances to exorcize evil spirits. Dances are roughly divided into those of Hindu origin and those of animist, Old Indonesian derivation, which are usually performed in the innermost courtyard (jeroan) of the temple.
     In the classical Hinduized dances, invariably there's a princess to rescue or a kingdom to conquer. Some are danced only by women, others only by men. Each is performed in many different styles, depending on the locale and artistic influence.
For the most part, dance and dance-dramas have come down to us remarkably well preserved because it's an art form zealously supported and well cultivated by the community. Old plays, completely rearranged and with recast choreography, are periodically revived by the Balinese and staged at the island-wide Denpasar Arts Festival.
     Although Westerners lament that Bali's arts have suffered from the flood of tourism-not to mention TV, video, Hollywood films, and B-grade kung-fu movies-the arrival of tourists has actually preserved, fortified, and revitalized the island's performing arts. Again, the Balinese have shown themselves to be dynamically resilient.

Religion and Dance
Over a thousand years ago Chinese and Indian pilgrims to Bali were struck by the ritual and frenzy of the island's dances and celebrations. They named the island Wali, a Sanskrit word meaning "religious festival."
     In Balinese, the word wali is still used to refer to stately row or circle dances offered to the gods as opposed to balih-balihan dances which are performed as commercial entertainment only. In the 20th century, visitors from Charlie Chaplin and Margaret Mead to Mick Jagger and Antonin Arthaud have been transfixed by the island's elaborate temple festivals put on to entertain the Hindu gods.
     Because all Balinese dances were originally religious in nature, a gift for the visiting gods, the Balinese have always attached great importance to their dances. To this day no large cremation, temple ceremony, wedding, or important social rite is complete without a dance drama or wayang kulit performance. Certain dances are even prohibited from being staged in public.
     A fuzzy boundary is maintained between what the Balinese do for themselves and what they do for visitors. In 1992, Governor Ida Bagus Oka decreed that 11 sacred or wali dances may no longer be performed in hotels or at the usual commercial dance venues. This policy was a long time in coming: during President Reagan's 1986 visit, the holy pendet welcoming dance was cut from a 10 minutes to a pathetic two minutes at the request of the White House.
     Dance and drama also serve as important mediums through which centuries-old culture, history, values, notions of religious piety, and even political philosophies flow to contemporary and future generations. Before the opening of native Malay schools in the 1920s, theater was the only way to transmit traditional values and knowledge, such as the purpose of a village's three temples, the importance of carrying out your parent's cremation, what happens if you don't meet your banjar obligations.

Reference
The following books give valuable insights into Balinese dance and drama: Dance and Drama in Bali, by Beryl de Zoete and Walter Spies; Island of Bali, by Miguel Covarrubias; Music in Bali, by Colin McPhee; Masks of Bali, by Judy Slattum, photos by Paul Schraub. Publishers and short annotations for the books are listed in the Booklist.

History and Development
About 1,500 years ago, Indian influences began to make their way via Java to Bali. Thus, the characters of the Hindu Mahabharata and Ramayana epic poems are today the heroes and deities of Hinduized Balinese dancing, and strong traces of 10th-century Tantric rites and magical sorcery as well as several Indian mudra are found in several Balinese dances.
     Since the mass infusion of the Javano-Hindu culture into Bali that followed the Majapahit collapse, the Balinese have created their own dances and characters. The clowns (bebanyolan), for example, are a personification of the Balinese genius for assimilating new influences without destroying the integrity of the old.
     The first commercial tourist performances were staged in 1928 at KPM's Bali Hotel in Denpasar and at the Kuta Beach Hotel. In the 1930s, with the decline of the aristocratic houses, dancing and musical instruments were taken over by the villages. As a result, dancing became more dynamic, fast-moving, and enthralling. Nurtured by the stability of the colonial period, musical activity in the villages flourished and dance clubs proliferated.
     In the early 1930s, the Peliatan legong troupe was the first Balinese dance company to perform abroad. They were feted in London and New York and played at the 1931 Exposition in Paris. During the Japanese occupation (1942-45), Bali became a rest and recuperation center for Japanese soldiers; the taste of the occupiers gave rise to such dances as the prembon and wiranata, still occasionally staged today.
     Under the sponsorship of the nation-building Sukarno regime, the dancers and musicians of Ubud-Peliatan were again dispatched on a world circuit tour in the 1950s. Also in the 1950s, the same troupe costarred with Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, and Dorothy Lamour in the very forgettable Hollywood film Road to Bali.
     Starting in 1967, with Suharto's New Order regime reopening Bali's doors to foreigners, dances were staged at the newly inaugerated Bali Beach Hotel in Sanur. By the late 1960s, the number of foreign visitors had reached 30,000 per annum, and Bali was adopted as a showcase for Indonesia's efforts to promote "cultural tourism."
     This development of tourism undeniably stimulated performing arts-a cultural renaissance. Even at this relatively early date, Balinese dancing represented the island's trademark for outsiders and a yardstick of artistic activity for the Balinese themselves.
     Ever since the late '70s, Balinese dance troupes have regularly made world tours, but the exoticism and spectacle of a Balinese performance is no longer in itself sufficient to guarantee spellbinding success with Western audiences, who have become increasingly sophisticated over the years. According to the critics, a group of professionals on tour in 1989 was deemed "perfunctory and devoid of all feeling," falling far short of the intoxicating presentations of the 1930s and '50s.

Characteristics of Balinese Dance
On Java dance is in large part the prerogative of the courts, but on Bali it's a living, popular art form, most active in the villages. On Java a fine classical dancer is frequently a member of the sultan's retinue. On Bali, a dancer is an ordinary villager with unusual skill who performs pleasingly before the gods-for community prestige, for the entertainment of friends and family, and for tourists for money.
     Balinese dance is much influenced by Javanese dance movements, which are a mirror of the Javanese wayang kulit theater in which all emotion is expressed through rigidly controlled gestures, the eyes unfocused, the lips closed, and the face fixed and mask-like as if the actor were a marionette. In both female and male dancing, the limbs form angles with the head sinking down so far that the neck disappears.
     At other times, the eyes flicker and dance. In Balinese classical dance, all movements and limbs are very expressive-the face, fingers, wrists, neck, eyes, hips, knee, feet, ankles. Unlike in India, the majority of Balinese dance movements-a tilt of the head or twist of the fingers-are decorative and do not carry any specific meaning.
     The exceptions are the pronounced gestures that convey anger or prayer; nose kissing, greetings, and impassioned speeches, which have their inherent emotional meanings; or those that obviously represent daily tasks, such as opening a curtain, holding a cloth, or weaving.
     The names of a few basic gestures describe an attached meaning in metaphorical terms. These gestures are often taken from nature, usually from flowers or animals-a sudden whirl might be named after a tiger defending himself, the flutter of hands after the flight of a bird.
     Sudden changes of direction and precise, jerky accentuations mark Balinese choreography. Each basic posture (agem) evolves into another posture through a succession of smaller, secondary gestures (tandang). The transition from one series to another is marked by short steps (angsel).
     A typical posture is legs half bent, torso shifted to one side, elbow raised and then lowered in a gesture displaying the suppleness of the dancer's hands and fingers. The torso is always shifted in opposition to the arms-if the arms are to the left, the shifting is to the right, and vice versa.
     In the celebrated, acrobatic sanghyang dedari, entranced little girls perform acrobatic backbends (ngelayang) that defy logic. Balinese dancing is nearly as preoccupied with the upper half of the body as European dancing is with the lower half. In certain dances, like the kebyar, the legs don't move at all.
     The Balinese don't dance upward and away from the earth, but move along its surface in slow, horizontal zigzagging circles or in movements describing lines and rows. The leaps, runs, lifts, and spins so familiar in Western ballet seldom appear in classical Balinese dance. In fact, only demonic and bestial characters jump and move in a broad and brusque manner. Noble characters move with refined gestures.
     Balinese dance is subtle, drawing the audience into the dancer's world. Simultaneously, it is blatantly erotic. Female postures are characterized by bent legs held close together, open feet, off-center shoulders, and spines curved to sensuously push out the buttocks. A dance teacher can often be heard reminding her students to strike provocative poses, "Tits and asses! Tits and asses!" she'll exclaim over and over.
     In men's dancing, legs are arched and shoulders pulled up, with sharper gestures meant to give the impression of dynamic power, reinforced by the male's strong, broad features. While women's dancing is pure form, in men's dancing the content of the dance is more open to interpretation.
     In contemporary dance, women play numerous male roles, for example, the prince Rama and Laksmana in the Ramayana story. The easiest way to recognize masculine from feminine forms is by the costuming. Male dancers or male impersonators have a short sarung or pants down to the middle of the calves, with a long tongue handing down between the legs.
     Female dancers wear a long sarung, the end of which often drags a meter or more on the dance floor. Women have long hair while men wear crowns or headdresses. High, square-shaped crowns are attributes of kings, claw-shaped crowns of princes, and the lower-castes wear simple headdresses. Women wear flower crowns.
     Although movement between dancers is highly synchronized, rarely in traditional dance do two dancers come in contact with each other. Mockery and stylized violence may, however, be shown on the Balinese stage, though they would never be permitted in real life.
     The complete lack of emotional expression on the dancer's face can be likened to a state of trance, a frame of mind which seems to render dancers immune to fatigue. Few show any trace of exhaustion after dancing for hours on end.
     Entranced dancers, considered to be in contact with the spiritual world and thereby holy, are left free to express themselves, always under the guidance of a temple priest and the protection of several strong guardians, ready to intervene should the trance get out of hand.
     The Balinese dance with a mesmerizing intensity, as if they're always being startled. Like their music, Balinese dance is abrupt, dramatic. All the excitement gives Balinese dance an air of spontaneity, yet hides a mastery over a highly technical set of motions and a rigidly stylized technique.
     Precise directions are laid down for seledet or nyledet, those quick eye flicks to the right and left, up and down, which convey so much expression. Eyebrows often lift and eyeballs roll sideways either slowly or extremely quickly. In the whole of Indonesia such energetic eye movements appear only in Balinese dancing; without these movements Balinese dancing would lose much of its allure.

Training
Dancing is a difficult science, requiring years of physical training and practice. A strong cadre of professionals work in the dance academies of Denpasar, but the vast majority of dancers arise from the community at large. Every Balinese is a potential artist-a bricklayer or farmer by day may transform into the glittering Rama for the kecak dance by night.
     The postures and movements of dance stem from the work the Balinese do: they are just working gracefully and wearing beautiful clothes when they dance! Men climb coconut trees with prehensile toes, which you also see utilized in some dance steps. When a man carries coconuts or cans on a pole, it is excellent training for male dance roles, giving him rhythm and a breathing sense, enabling him to rise and fall almost imperceptibly in dance.
     On the street women carry offerings, jugs of water, piles of bricks on their heads, flicking their eyes in the same way as in dance to greet each other and to watch their step along the path. Carrying everything on their heads gives Balinese women straight backs, a sure, steady step, and extraordinary grace. Life becomes dance.
     Children are first exposed to dance long before they can walk. An astounding one-quarter of Bali's children learn to dance, and about as many play a musical instrument. Prospective dancers are chosen for their attractiveness, physical fitness and coordination, or aptitude for a specific dance. A pupil always learns a particular dance, such as legong, baris, or janger, but never dancing in general. Especially sought after because of the suppleness of their limbs are very young children. If a dancer is double-jointed, all the better.
     A significant number of movements have to be acquired at a very early age through long and arduous training, and are impossible for the untrained. Little girls for the legong are chosen from four- to five-year-olds, and famous dancers in Bali are reputed to have been able to dance before they learned to walk. Many girls retire at age 12 or 13, when they are considered full grown and too big and awkward to dance.
     Teachers, usually unpaid, are generally former dancers of great repute who know every fine detail of certain dances. Some pupils become so expert at such a young age that they begin teaching dance at age fourteen. Choreographers are frequently also dancing masters themselves. Teachers are often called upon to travel to different communities to impart the finishing touches to a well-trained troupe.
     The value of a dancer rests not only on the boy's or girl's talent but also on personality, emotional intensity, and the expressiveness of the face. Dancers must have fire, and it must come from the eyes.
     All members of the community-from toothless old crones to Kuta cowboys-are astute dance critics, openly and publicly evaluating a dancer's style, technique, and physical beauty. If a dancer is not pretty-even though she might be a masterful dancer-she is pressured into some other social pursuit.
     Except for the sacred temple dances (rejang, pendet), which are learned in performance, ceremonial and secular dancing is taught by "osmosis." The master does not analyze or explain individual movements, then string them together from start to finish. Instead, he or she demonstrates for the pupils the whole dance, in its final form. Mirrors-and nowadays video camcorders-are sometimes used.
     The teacher then stands behind and guides the movements of her pupils, forming and molding and prodding the dancers' bodies, leading them vigorously by the wrists, adjusting a hand here and a knee there, kneading an improperly tilted shoulder into place. Soon, by sheer repetition, the student begins to gain confidence and the dance "enters" him. Years later, famous dancers say they can still feel their teacher's hands on their arms and shoulders.
     Positions of hands and fingers are pivotal criteria for judging the quality of a dancer; experts can tell immediately who a dancer's teacher is by the complexity and suppleness of her little finger. Balance is also all-important-rarely do you see a dancer trip or stumble.
     Along with training their visual memories, the dancers must also learn the music to the point of being able to sing it. The music guides the dancers; teachers are constantly reminding students Dengar musik ("Listen to the music!"). When the teacher exhausts her knowledge, she finds the student a new master, and another until the child's talents reach their limits.

The Clowns (Bebanyolan)
No temple ceremony, wedding celebration, or dance-drama is complete without a clown or two to liven up the performance. Just as the Javanese venerate their clownish panakawan, the Balinese believe there is a strong connection between the comic and the divine. The laughter is a kind of offering, making the tales' morals more memorable. It also keeps the classics from becoming too ossified.
     The clowns and courtiers deal with themes of topical interest and practical value. For example, to dispel some of the tension generated by insensitive tourists, clowns have even invented a caricature of a tourist. He is a disruptive, bad-mannered, wooden-nosed buffoon wearing a ridiculous trenchcoat and galoshes, with a swinging camera on his shoulder. Immensely popular, this character helps the Balinese preserve their dignity.
     By dramatizing and satirizing contemporary problems and lampooning historical chronicles and heroes, these wily bands of sacred merrymakers establish a continuity between past and present that reassures the Balinese in their attempts to cope with a bewilderingly changing world. As mass tourism and commercial development poise to destroy traditional Bali, the clowns show the people how foolish they can be. All the laughter and self-mockery serves as a catharsis.
     For all these reasons, the Balinese clown is looked upon not only as an entertainer but also as a highly respected spiritual guide, filling a special role in Balinese and national culture. Political parties use clowns to address prickly issues and woo voters. During Balinese political rallies, opponents often mimic the clown's absurd, singsong tonal alterations. In his wonderful book Subversive Laughter (Free Press, 1994), the theater historian Ron Jenkins writes, "Claiming the margin as center, the clown is the personification of cultural resistance."
     Bebanyolan undergo rigorous physical and intellectual training. From childhood they receive instruction in voice and dance, as well as in the religious literature and historical chronicles of the island. Their mastery of the old religious texts equals that of Balinese priests. The clowns are master linguists as well as superlative comedians, singing their parts in ancient Kawi, modern Indonesian, and Balinese.
     The bebanyolan improvisational skills are masterful. Not having to adhere to a rigid script, they constantly improvise, a fact that renders their verbal proficiency even more startling. If the play is before a group of tourists, smart-alecky phrases in English pepper the performance.
     The clowns' talents can best be appreciated viewing the masked topeng theater, a highly charged and still popular wayang form on Bali. Royal characters speaking the higher literary verse are usually accompanied by a comic servant speaking the commom idiom. Except for a few expressions, most Balinese don't know the old language. Consequently, the clowns play the same role of plot commentator as Shakespearean fools do.
     The clown, of course, falls prey to all the temptations that the princely character spurns, and when he performs a classical dance there is always something a little bit wrong or uncoordinated with each gesture, all of which sends the audience into hysterics. Few realize that this subtle burlesque requires a higher degree of technique and muscular control than the proper dance.