WAYANG
KULIT
A Unique Vision of the World
Wayang
kulit, the shadow theater of Bali, is one of the longest
running theatrical spectacles the world has known.
For centuries it has survived changes in politics,
ideology and fashion - continually renewing itself
and providing the Balinese with a unique vision of
the world and of themselves.
The
elements of the performance are simplicity itself.
a white screen, a flame, music, and flat puppets that
move and tell a story. Balinese audiences delight
in seeing their favorite characters in familiar predicaments.
There is the braggart caught in his own lies, the
old fool who isn't so foolish, the invincible hero
who needs to be rescued, the gods needing help from
humans, and of course the beautiful princess - abducted,
rescued and stolen back again.
The
shadow puppets are made of rawhide, carved and perforated
to create lacy patterns of light and dark. The puppets
and screen are flat, but when all elements of a performance
are in place - flickering firelight, gamelan music,
voice and movement - they take on an unearthly dimension.
The
characters are all recognizable at a glance by their
headdresses, costumes and facial characteristics.
There are two main types - alus and kasar. Alus means
refined and controlled. Kasar is vulgar and quick
to anger. Alus is not necessarily good, nor kasar
bad; what is admired is the right combination of attributes
at the right place and time.
A
performance is usually a kind of offering that marks
the completion of a ceremony. The occasion could be
a wedding, a funeral, or any other major event in
the life of the individual or community. In urban
areas, a performance may be two hours long. In rural
areas, expectations are greater and work schedules
more flexible, so a performance is likely to begin
after 10 pm and last three to five hours. Farmers
often go directly from the performance to the fields.
Most
puppeteers or dalangs in Bali specialize in wayang
parwa stories from the Mahabharata myth cycle about
two families in conflict over succession to the throne.
Although each side has valid claims, one operates
from greed and self-interest, while the other is more
altruistic. The five Pandawa brothers struggle to
assert their best qualities pitted against the 100
Korawas, who lust for power.
An
apprentice dalang will spend years following his father
or teacher from one performance to another. Gradually
his understanding of composition, rhetoric and humor
become instinctive. He is expected to improvise in
several languages, to give convincing and inventive
explanations of local customs and events, and to be
adept in the use of proverbs and slapstick comedy.
The
performance
The
shadow play group usually arrives several hours before
the performance. As they chat with their host and
exchange gossip, the dalang will be listening for
ways to adapt the story for his audience. He never
announces which story he is going to perform, reserving
the right to change his mind.
In
a given performance, 30 to 60 puppets are used. While
the musicians play the overture, the dalang makes
his selection. Antagonists are placed to his left,
protagonists to his right. Major characters are placed
closest to the kayon - the "tree of life"
puppet that marks the beginning and end of major scenes.
The shadows are purposely indistinct at this point,
symbolizing that the creation of the story has begun,
but that like a child in the womb, no one knows what
it is going to be.
There
is singing as each character is presented. The first
scene is the meeting scene, where problems central
to tonight's episode are introduced. It is entirely
in Kawi, the ancient language of poetry, religion
and theater. Then there is a sound like someone clearing
his throat, followed by a slow, deliberate laugh.
A hush settles over the audience as a large figure
moves ponderously across the screen, and bows - this
is Tualen, and for the first time, Balinese is spoken.
Tualen
is one of four penasar - advisors and servants to
the king, and interpreters for the audience. They
are the only puppets with lips - when the dalang pulls
a string attached to their jaw, it looks as if they
are talking.
During
the initial scene it might be revealed that an army
is gathering to attack; that someone is missing, kidnapped,
or stuck in a dream; that a rare object is needed
to complete a ceremony, or that everyone is invited
to a marriage contest. There are hundreds of possible
openings. They all end with a decision to solve the
problem.
In
pursuit of their goal, they might journey through
a forest filled with dangerous animals, visit a hermit
in his cave, enlist the help of an ally, climb mountains
or cross an ocean. There will be a meeting between
the two sides, ending with sharp words and a battle.
There might be a romantic interlude as one of the
Pandawas and a beautiful enemy princess fall in love.
Ultimately,
fighting ensues and magical weapons fill the air.
Eagles fight snakes. Fire fights rain. Ogres change
shapes, fly, and become invisible. The penasars are
everywhere - fighting, arguing, joking, dodging weapons
and providing a commentary which gives the musicians
a chance to rest.
The
dalang works furiously. His assistants try to second
guess him and hand him the right puppet when he needs
it. The musicians pay close attention, emphasizing
each arrow shot with a resounding chord. The audience
cheers, laughs and groans, gripping each other in
anticipation of what is to follow.
When
the dalang feels the audience is satisfied, he will
play a rousing battle scene ending in victory for
the right side. This is not so much the ultimate triumph
of good over evil as the re-establishment of a balance
between the two. The clowns have a last word, then
the kayon appears at the center of the screen, and
the dalang utters the words: "Though the fighting
is over, the stories go on forever. We apologize for
stopping so soon."