Dear LUTSF
Dances of the
I enclose my
report on the project which the LUTSF enabled me to undertake in East Java,
Indonesia. With the help of the LUTSF, I travelled to
East Java, Indonesia, and spent 3 weeks at the Padepokan Seni Mangun Dharma
(PSMD), near the city of
The main achievements of the trip were:
The mask dance drama performance was without doubt
the highlight of the trip, and enabled me to put all I have learned into
context. Personally, it was also a unique opportunity to connect up the dance
and drama aspects of my experience as a performer, having initially come from a
theatre background and moved into dance later. I worked with a dance company of
young performers and a professional gamelan ensemble of musicians and had a
special insight into the way such a performance is put together. By sponsoring
this performance myself, I felt I was able to put something back into the local
community; performing artists in
As a UK-based
dancer, I would like to encourage others to explore the rich diversity and
vibrancy of East Javanese performing arts – in particular I would like to see
more
I would recommend
a visit to the PSMD to anyone interested in studying any aspect of Javanese
performing arts. They draw on rich local traditions, play an important role in
encouraging young performers and have a history of welcoming students from all
parts of the world.
I plan to offer
some of the film I took during my trip, once edited, to the collection at the
Finally, I would
like to thank the LUTSF and everyone at the PSMD for making this project
possible.
Yours sincerely
Gillian Roberts
Report for Lisa Ullmann Travelling Scholarship Fund
My LUTSF scholarship enabled me to return to East
Java, Indonesia, for the first time since 1997.
I spent three weeks there, from 12 November to
The aims of my visit were:
·
to develop my knowledge and understanding
of East Javanese mask dance
·
to document dances and if possible record
performances by older dancers (the remaining few of their generation) in the
area around
·
to gain fresh choreographic ideas and
inspiration for work with young people.
Background
I specialise in Javanese and Balinese dance. In
1993-94 I spent five months at the PSMD, studying traditional dances of the
Mask
dance theatre (wayang topeng) can be found in every region of Java, in
other parts of
M Soleh Adi
Pramono is the artistic director of the PSMD (website: www.mangun-dharma.com)
and has been my principal teacher there. Descended from a family of dhalangs,
Pak Soleh trained in
I had discussed
the aims of my visit with Soleh and Karen and we agreed during my three-week
stay at PSMD I would:
My main teachers would be Pak Soleh (for Klana,
Bapang and Beskalan) and his son Supriono (for Gunungsari), supported by Buari,
one of the PSMD’s teachers, and by Pak Soleh’s wife Karen. On previous visits I
had also had the privilege of working with senior dancers from the
I had arranged to
sponsor a performance of a wayang topeng (mask dance drama). Wayang
topeng used to be a very popular artform; the
The last time I
visited PSMD I co-sponsored a performance by Sri Margo Utomo, a mask dance
troupe based in Pak Rasimun’s village, which was supported by the PSMD, and I
assumed I would be able to do something similar this time. With the passing of
Pak Rasimun, the troupe is no longer together in the same way. The PSMD
activity’s now focus strongly on providing a training for young people, so Pak
Soleh told me I should sponsor a performance by the PSMD’s young people’s dance
groups. I would also be taking part in it, playing the role of Klana, a bold
and lecherous king. On previous visits I had already performed Klana’s solo
dance, using the version from the
My timetable
varied each day, depending on what else was happening at the centre. I would
generally have a private lesson in the morning; in the afternoons, I either had
another lesson or practiced alone or with others. Sometimes I worked in the
evenings as well. Most weekday afternoons and every Sunday morning there was
class for the young people’s groups, so I sometimes joined in with them to
work. On Wednesday and Sunday afternoons we rehearsed with the PSMD gamelan
musicians.
Working on the dances
As with all Javanese dances, a sampur (dance
scarf sash) is used in the following dances to amplify and draw attention to
certain aspects of the movement. The way it is worn depends on the character. A
set of bells is also worn around the right ankle and used to emphasise the
rhythms of the dance.
When I first came
to the PSMD in 1994, I was often faced with different versions of a particular
dance, depending on who was teaching. Initially I found it quite confusing
(even more so when older dancers tended to vary what they did each time,
anyway); with Klana, for instance, I worked on versions from Pak Soleh and Pak
Gimun – in the end I decided to opt in the main for Pak Soleh’s version. I felt
a little guilty about this, as Pak Gimun was very supportive and generous with
his time, and I didn’t feel I was doing him justice. With further experience,
however, I am now able to take something from both versions and synthesise them
into my own; this is how dance is passed on in Java – you start by following
your teacher, but eventually you develop your own variations and personal
flavour.
Topeng Klana
On my second full day at PSMD, to my delight, Pak
Gimun arrived first thing in the morning. Now 81 and looking considerably
frailer than when I last saw him in 1997, he was nevertheless very keen to take
me through topeng Klana. We spent a fantastic morning working on it
together, with Pak Soleh and Pak Gimun comparing and discussing alternatives as
we went along. Pak Gimun became more and more sprightly as we worked and was
clearly enjoying dancing again.
Most of my first
week was taken up with working on Klana. I got lots of detail from Pak Soleh
that I had not been ready for on previous visits; I also worked on improving my
stance and on being able to hear the drum patterns accurately (which in
Javanese dance always correspond to the dancer’s movements). An important test
of whether you really know a dance is whether you can practise it with the drum
accompaniment alone.
In the story we
would be performing, Klana is up against the hero Gunungsari, who was to be
played by Christina Sunardi, a Fullbright scholar who had been studying gamelan
and dance at the PSMD for a couple of months. With the exception of a couple of
comic characters, dancers in wayang topeng do not speak; the dialogue
and narration is improvised by the dhalang in Javanese, the regional
language, and the dancers must act and gesture appropriately in dialogue
scenes. For Christina and me this presented a challenge; we both spoke Indonesian
(the national language), but little Javanese, so we would have to rely very
much on non-verbal cues, such as changes in the dhalang’s tone of voice,
to know when our characters were speaking. At the end of my first week, we had
a first run-through of our battle duet in masks and marked through the final
section of the story with the rest of the performers.
Topeng Bapang
Bapang is a popular mask dance character and is
unique to the
Topeng Gunungsari
On previous visits I had enjoyed watching Pak
Rasimun, a very fine dancer, performing this dance. I particularly wanted to
learn it because Gunungsari is an alus (refined) character and a
contrast to the coarser characters of Klana and Bapang. I was very happy that
Supriono was able to pass on Pak Rasimun’s version to me. Because of his other
commitments we only had 3 days to work on it, but this was enough time for me
to learn the dance and enable me to continue working on it back home. The dance
contains some distinctive moves particular to the character; this includes, for
example, a section where the dancer imitates a peacock taking a dust bath or
pecking on the ground; kneeling down with one knee raised, the arms are raised
and stretched out to the rear, the torso is extended forward and the dancer
swoops up and down, leading with the head. At the same time, the dancer turns
in a circle on the spot, shifting the lower knee and the foot folded underneath
the body to do so.
Beskalan
Beskalan is said to mean ‘beginning dance’; some people say
that all other female style dances in East Java originated from it, but it is
also performed as the opening dance of an event. The dance depicts Proboretna,
a female warrior considered the flower of all
I started
learning Beskalan in 1994 with Mak Riati, who was then in her seventies. Pak
Soleh had worked with her to recover the dance, which she had not performed for
over 30 years. Mak Riati’s version was 30 minutes long, and included two sung
interludes. It was very complex, and like most seasoned dancers, Mak Riati
rarely did it the same way twice. I was very new to East Javanese dance then,
so I found it quite a challenge. I ended up learning a shorter version, from
Pak Rasimun, which was more suitable for performing in the
Grebeg
Sabrang
One of my aims was to learn a non-mask dance that I
could use in workshops for young people. I began learning the grebeg sabrang
the day after I arrived, starting with a version danced by the younger
children’s group. This dance (which means ‘the sending out of the troops’) was
used for the first appearance of soldiers in the performance we did. Buari, another of the PSMD teachers, taught
me, along with Pak Soleh. I also learned
another similar dance for the wayang topeng, the prajuritan sabrang,
which is used when Klana dances with his own soldiers. Buari’s and Soleh’s
versions differed slightly but it was useful to see variations and how they
could fit - as with any other, the dance can be made shorter or longer as
necessary.
Performing
Two days after I arrived, I danced Bapang for a ludrug
performance (a sort of variety show, with singers, dancers, comic acts and a
soap opera style play). The plan was that I would dance it to the prerecorded
music with which I was familiar; I hadn’t danced it with live music since 1994
(few UK gamelan drummers know the East Javanese repertoire) and there had been
no time to rehearse with the gamelan to tune my ear back in (each gamelan is
unique and there are many possible variations in the musical fabric). In the
event, there was a problem with the sound system shortly before I went on, so I
had to dance with the live gamelan after all! With Pak Soleh on the drum, I got
through it somehow. Pak Soleh reflected afterwards that probably the odds had
been stacked against me; given that the village where the show took place was
called Gunungsari, he thought that Gunungsari’s spirit may have hindered Bapang’s
from entering. I thought that was a very graceful way of explaining it…
Our wayang
topeng performance took place at the end of my second week and was a
highlight of my trip. We had rehearsals with the musicians (the PSMD’s
professional adult ensemble) on Wednesday and Sunday afternoons, but had never
done a full run-through at any one time - whether because time didn’t allow or,
more likely, because it wasn’t felt necessary. A central improvised comic
scene, played by Buari, for instance, was never done in rehearsal at all. The
show was therefore a bit of a voyage of discovery, as I realised I had no idea
how long certain sections would last. I danced Bapang early on in the show; Pak
Kusnadi, the drummer and leader of the musicians, had lots of fun driving the
pace, and I felt that we were really playing (in both senses of the word)
together and responding to each other’s energy. Bapang is accompanied by a
servant, who tries to imitate him heightening the comedy already in the piece.
This is also an example of how, traditionally, an apprentice dancer would
learn, by playing the servant of the role he is studying. I had a dangerously
quick change of masks and headdresses.from Bapang to Klana.
Klana demands
lots of energy and performing with live music really feeds that energy. I gave
the audience a good laugh in one of the dialogue scenes when I tried to ‘speak’
out of turn – it was obvious to them that it wasn’t my character speaking, but
not to me as a non-Javanese speaker, and this was a bit that had never cropped
up in rehearsal. The fight scenes with the opposing army and my battle duet
with Christina as Gunungsari went off well, and I got a good laugh on my final
exit (Klana beats a hasty retreat, beaten by the hero), thanks to a great
visual gag which Pak Soleh helped me work on in secret.
Seeing other performances
I had originally hoped to make my trip in August
2005, around the time of Independence Day celebrations, when there are always
lots of performances, but had to change my plans due to work commitments.
Fortunately by going out in mid-November, I caught the last week of
performances put on to celebrate Idul Fitri, the end of the fasting month of
Ramadan. I was thus able to see: two ludrug performances (which included
male remo dances, female style remo danced by a transvestite
group and some comic mask dances); a remo performance by leading women
dancers; dancing horses (jaran joged) and a hobby horse trance dance (jaran
kepang) as part of a village festival (not related to Idul Fitri) up in the
mountains.
Outcomes
Not everything went according to plan, of course, but
I know from previous experience that you have to be prepared to go with what
happens; sometimes the best things emerge as a result of that. My first two
weeks were very much focused on preparation for the performance; at the
beginning I did not realise quite how much this would involve (I had originally
imagined I would just do one solo…), and there always seemed to be some new
thing to learn (right up to the day of the show). I would have liked to have
spent more time working on Gunungsari, but the work I did on Bapang and Klana
was just as valuable in developing me as a dancer, and performing in the show was
a very special experience.
It was not
possible to do as much filming as I would have liked, but I got enough footage
for my own purposes and also bought some remo vcds. I plan to offer some
of the film I shot to the collection at the
The Padepokan
Seni Mangun Dharma is one of a few centres that play a crucial role in
sustaining Malang-style performing arts, and in developing the dancers of the
future. I feel privileged to have been able to take part in the life of the
centre and hope they continue to flourish and get the recognition they deserve.
My particular thanks are due to Pak Soleh, Pak Gimun, Pak Kusnadi, Karen
Elizabeth Sekararum, Supriono, Buari, Winarto Ekram, Condro Lukitosari, Kyan
Andaru, Christina Sunardi and everyone else who made my stay so enjoyable and
rewarding.
