The Sultan of Lingga&#39;s Brass Band

Anthea Skinner

In this paper, Ki Mantle Hood (1918-2005) is both remembered for his past contributions to the field of ethnomusicology and honoured for mentoring future generations of students. In the early 1950s, Ki Mantle Hood established the program of ethnomusicology at the University of California, Los Angeles to encompass the study of musical, social and cultural dimensions of human expression in American universities. At the time, it was considered quite novel and even risky to actually learn and perform Thai piphat, Javanese gamelan or Japanese gagaku in the same institutions of higher learning as Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. But Mantle Hood was a visionary. Today many universities around the globe offer world music courses, graduate programs, and performance ensembles in ethnomusicology. This paper examines three areas of Hood’s career: the early years of Hood’s establishing the UCLA program; my personal experiences as his student, and his enduring methodology of bi-musicality and its relevance for future generations of scholars.

This eighteenth volume in the series Europea: Ethnomusicologies and Modernities (edited by Bohlman and Stokes) celebrates the multifaceted research fields of Bruno Nettl, and the man as a teacher, colleague, and friend, on the occasion of his 85th birthday. The nature of Bruno Nettl's research is all-encompassing as he is one of the few universally operating ethnomusicologists, who are becoming rare in recent times. The editors, Bohlman and Levine, have organized the volume in six parts: " Communities of Music, " " Intellectual History of Ethnomusicology, " " Analytical Studies, " " Historical Studies, " " Issues and Concepts, " and " Change, Adaptation, and Survival. " This structuring implies that the editors may not have had in mind to put up a genuinely coherent volume, but rather to give former students, colleagues, and friends an opportunity to contribute. The parts are not mutually exclusive, and emphasize different perspectives of " this thing called music. " The volume is widely inclusive and does not impose any disciplinary strictures on the contributors, although ethnomusicology somewhat stands out. Each part consists of five to seven chapters that are diverse in their approaches and exemplary in their topics and academic quality—sticking largely to American views on musicology as a discipline within an English-speaking world. The volume contains 34 chapters, of which 90% are written by female contributors, reflecting an above-average distribution of successful female researchers in the field of musicology.

Over the last twenty years a range of radical developments have revolutionised Musicology – leading certain practitioners to describe their discipline as ‘New’. What has happened to Ethnomusicology during this time? Do its theories, methodologies and values remain rooted in the 1970s and 1980s or has it also transformed? What directions might or should it take in the new millenium? With contributions from a number of key figures in Ethnomusicology and related disciplines, this volume explores Ethnomusicology’s shifting relationship to other disciplines and to its own ‘mythic’ history, and plots a range of potential developments for its future. It also considers perspectives on Ethnomusicology from ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ the ‘discipline’, and its broader contribution and relevance beyond the academy. In a period of particular dynamism and intense technological change, when Music departments, in the UK at least, are increasingly opening their doors to Ethnomusicologists, and valuing the types of skills and approaches they offer, such reflection is particularly timely. In many respects, this volume also offers a European perspective; one that provides some interesting and refreshing contrasts from the North American discourses and institutional dynamics that have tended to dominate Ethnomusicology since the 1950s.

Symposium Proceedings of the 5th 5th Symposium THE INTERNATIONAL INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL FOR TRADITIONAL MUSIC MUSIC STUDY GROUP ON ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA Symposium Themes (I) Crossing Borders through Popular Performance Genres in Southeast Asia (II) Tourism and the Performing Arts in Southeast Asia (III) (Ill) New Research Research Special Ten-Year Anniversary Edition: Remembering Ki Mantle Hood, Ethnomusicologist Best of B o r l S11 Malaysia S UNIVERSITI MALAYSIA SABAH Symposium Chairs PASEA Study Group – Mohd Anis Md Nor (Malaysia) Program Committee – Mayco Santaella (Malaysia) Local Arrangements – Tuan Mansur Haji Asun (Malaysia) Program Committee Mayco Santaella, Chair (Malaysia), Sarah Anais Andrieu (France), Margaret Sarkissian (USA), Randal Baier (USA), Tan Sooi Beng (Malaysia) Local Arrangements Committee YBhg. Datu Rosmadi Datu Sulai, Advisor (Ministry of Tourism, Culture & Environment), YBhg. Tuan Sintiong Gelet (deceased) and YBhg. Tuan Mansur Haji Asun, Chair (Department of Sabah Museum), Prof. Dr. Jacqueline Pugh-Kitingan, Deputy Chair (Universiti Malaysia Sabah), Judeth John Baptist, Secretary (Department of Sabah Museum); Committee members: YBhg Tuan William Baya and Encik Denis Joannes (Sabah Cultural Board), Pn Suzaini Datuk Sabdin Ghani and Pn Maimun binti Buyung (Sabah Tourism Board), Encik Zachary Mobijohn and Pn Francesca Lydia Desmond (Sri Pelancongan Sabah Sdn. Bhd.), Pn Kamsiah Ibrahim (State Public Sector Training Institute [INSAN]), and Department of Sabah Museum staff members Arif Abdul Hamid, Suchin Sidih, Stella Moo-Tan, Alfodus Lester John Milip, Dius Kubud, Evren Subal, Robin Fedelis Lojiwin, Stenley Peter, Anne Chan, Philip Frances, Petronella Ed Haroldson, Norlaila Kasum, Reuben Raymond, Joe Jacob, Flora Gudang, Caroline Mosigil The 5th Symposium was hosted and sponsored by: Department of Sabah Museum, Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment, Sabah, Malaysia Faculty of Humanities, Arts and Heritage, Universiti Malaysia Sabah The Proceedings of the 5th Symposium is published and sponsored by Department of Sabah Museum, Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment, Sabah, Malaysia, and Universiti Malaysia Sabah. This publication was edited as a group effort with volunteers from the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia. Chief Editors: Patricia Matusky and Wayland Quintero (Malaysia and USA) Editors: Desiree A. Quintero (USA), Made Mantle Hood (Taiwan), Felicidad Prudente (Philippines), Lawrence Nathaniel Ross (Malaysia), Christine May Yong (Malaysia), Hafzan Zannie Hamza (Malaysia) Photo Credits: Department of Sabah Museum, Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia Made Mantle Hood, ICTM Study Group on PASEA, and Tainan National University of the Arts, Taiwan Reuben Raymond, Department of Sabah Museum Cover Design: Nur Azreen Chee Pi, Universiti Sains Malaysia, School of Arts, Penang, Malaysia Published by Department of Sabah Museum, Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment, Sabah, Malaysia. ©2019, Copyright by ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia Perpustakaan Negara Malaysia Cataloguing-in-Publication-Data International Council for Traditional Music Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (5th : 2019 : Kota Kinabalu) Proceedings of the 5th Symposium : THE INTERNATIONAL COUNSIL FOR TRADITIONAL MUSIC STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA : Symposium Themes : (I) Crossing Borders through Popular Performance Genres in Southeast Asia, (II) Tourism and the Performing Arts in Southeast Asia, (III) New Research / Chief Editors: Patricia Matusky and Wayland Quintero ; Editors: Desiree A. Quintero, Made Mantle Hood, Felicidad Prudente, Lawrence Nathaniel Ross, Christine May Yong, Hafzan Zannie Hamza. ISBN 978-983-9638-36-3 1. Performing arts--Social aspects--Southeast Asia--Congresses. 2. Performance art--Southeast Asia--Congresses. 3. Government publications--Malaysia. I. Matusky, Patricia. II. Quintero, Wayland. III. Quintero, Desiree A. IV. Hood, Made Mantle. V. Prudente, Felicidad. VI. Ross, Lawrence Nathaniel. VI. Yong, Christine May. VII. Hafzan Zannie Hamza. 306.4840959 TABLE OF CONTENTS Acknowledgements xix Introduction and Symposium Themes xx Tribute to Ki Mantle Hood xxiii Ki Mantle Hood’s Centenary: Honouring My Father, a Pioneer of Ethnomusicology Made Mantle Hood xxiv SESSION 1—Commercialization, Internationalization, and “Neo-Ethnic” Popular Genres in Southeast Asia and Beyond Making Sundanese Music Local Again: Galengan Sara Awi’s Bamboo Musical Instruments and Sundanese Modernity (Abstract) Henry Spiller 259 From Kuda Lumping to Indonesian Pop: Australian Cross-Cultural and Cross-Border ‘Engagement’ with Indonesia through Music and Dance Presentations and Re-Imaginings Aline Scott-Maxwell 1 From Sunda to Banyuwangi Across Campursari, Hip-Hop and Gamelan: Crossing Geographical and Musical Borders on the Central Javanese Wayang Kulit Stage Ilaria Meloni 7 SESSION 2—Performing, Protecting and Displaying Shifting Senses of “Home” in a Globalising Southeast Asia Globalizing Filipino Songs, Bodies, and Sounds Beyond Homeland Ricardo Trimillos 12 Looking for “Home”: Cultural Identity in the Traditional Musics of Lombok David Harnish 13 Nostalgia in Motion: Transition and Transformation of a Japanese Enka Song in East and Southeast Asia Masaya Shishikura 18 SESSION 3—Performing and Staging Tourism Tourism and Performing Arts in Laos: The Lao Ramayana of Luang Prabang (Lightning Paper) Marie-Pierre Lissoir 24 Gelungan in Balinese Arja: Physical and Psychological Interaction between Headdress and Performer (Lightning Paper) Ako Mashino 27 Performance Contexts of Burmese Puppetry: Postmodern Strategies in Today’s Myanmar Cultural Tourism (Lightning Paper) Lorenzo Chiarofonte 30 Maataw – the Floating Island: Performing Eco-Criticism for Tao People through an Artistic Application of Research Findings (Abstract) Lin Wei-Ya 259 SESSION 4—Contemporary Soundscapes of Tradition and Modernity in Mainland Southeast Asia Sound, Power, and Death: The Royal Funeral of HRH King Rama IX (Abstract) Deborah Wong 260 Constructing a Place for the Youngest Royal Musician in the Royal Cremation of King Rama IX (Lightning Paper) Supeena Insee Adler 33 Khap Samneua from the Perspective of the Mobility of Singers (Lightning Paper) Gaku Kajimaru 36 Oral Transmission System of Burmese Classical Songs: Overview of Bazat-Hsaing or Mouth-Music (Lightning Paper) Sayuri Inoue 39 SESSION 5—Performance and Video Presentation Pichet Klunchun’s Site-Specific Monkeys: A Methodological Monologue (Lightning Paper) Leow Puay Tin 42 The Song of Sri Tanjung: A Story of Spirit Journey in Ancient Javanese Culture (Film, Abstract) Yohanes Hanan Pamungkas 260 SESSION 6—Ronggeng: Straits of Malacca and the Andaman Trans-Border Popular Performance Phleng Tanyong: A Thai-Language Ronggeng Idiom Develops in Southwest Thailand Lawrence Nathaniel Ross 46 Ronggeng Re-Invented: The Emergence of New Repertoires from Singapore to Peninsular Malaysia Mohd Anis Md Nor 49 SESSION 7—Case Studies of Filipino Soundscapes Buut and Pangako: Interiority and Performativity in the Sayaw Tradition in Tubungan, Iloilo (Lightning Paper) Jose R. Taton Jr. 55 Sonic Framework: Re-Inventing Philippine Cinema Soundtrack (Lightning Paper) Crisancti Macazo 58 SESSION 8—East and Southeast Asian Cultural Links Sharing K-Pop Choreography Across the Border: Dance Cover Activities in the Malaysian Chinese Diaspora (Abstract) Sangwoo Ha 261 Majority or Minority: Vietnamese Music Scene in the First Square, Taichung City, Taiwan (Abstract) Kuo Ta-Hsin 261 Music in Daily Life: Performance Location, Music Source, and Social Function of Karaoke Activities in Chinese-Indonesian Community Java Tsai Tsung-Te 62 Uniquely Singapore: Nanyang-Styled Compositions of the Singapore Chinese Orchestra (Abstract) Lee Ming-Yen 262 Changing Names and Meanings in the Pounding Pestles Rite of the Thau People: A Literature Survey on Past Researches (Lightning Paper) Darrell Hung-Ren Tong 67 SESSION 9—Re-presenting, Re-inventing and Re-staging Dance and Theatre Traditions ‘Disavowed Freedom’: The Decontexualization of Igal (Dance) Tradition (Abstract) Hafzan Zannie Hamza 262 Ajat Indu: From Ruai to Proscenium Stage of Sarawak Cultural Village (SCV) (Lightning Paper) Andrew Igai Jamu 72 The Re-invention of Thai Classical Dance: Change and the New Tradition (Abstract) Pawinee Boonserm 263 The Invention and Construction of Zapin Sebat: Across Sarawak-Sambas (East Malaysia-West Kalimantan) (Lightning Paper) Mohd. Hafzal bin Aziz 75 Baba Nyonya Dance: A Preliminary Survey on the Social History of Peranakan Dance Groups in Melaka (Lightning Paper) Rachel Ong 77 Subculture as Performing Arts Case Study: Oyot Godhong Cabaret Café (Lightning Paper) Gigih Alfajar 80 Bringing the Bangsal to Stage: Performing the Urban Mek Mulung in Collaboration with Performers of Kampung Wang Tepus (Abstract) Nur Izzati Jamalludin 263 SESSION 10—Crossing Borders between the Performing Arts of Indonesia, Malaysia and the Netherlands in the Riau Archipelago Icons of Malay Identity in the Musical Arts of Indonesia’s Riau Archipelago: Concepts of Space, Place and Generative Memory Codes (Abstract) Margaret Kartomi 264 Dance Practices and Composition in the Indonesian-Malay Mendu Theatrical Form of Riau’s Natuna Islands (Abstract) Karen Thomas 264 The Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band Anthea Skinner 83 SESSION 11—Exploring Arrangement Strategies and the Search for New Aesthetic Influences Hand Percussion: Performing Cosmopolitanism through Musical Alliances Across the Globe (Abstract) Clare Suet Ching Chan 265 The Significant Role of the Arranger in Pop Sunda (Lightning Paper) Indra Ridwan 87 Touring Spirits, Javanese Trance Dance in Immigrant Communities: Adaptive Strategies and Transformations of Meaning (Lightning Paper) Eva Rapoport 90 “It is like a Flower”: Understandings in Pangalay Movement (Lightning Paper) Desiree A. Quintero 93 SESSION 12—Local Nuances of Vocal Expression and Embodiment of Movement in Dance as Indigenous Knowledge (IK) in the Cordillera Administrative Region, Northern Philippines The Sogna and Ullalim Songs of the Mudacayan Kalinga People of Northern Philippines Felistina B. Pangsiw 95 Embodiment of Movement in Dance as Enculturation: Kiangan, Ifugao Province, Cordillera Administrative Region, Northern Philippines Wayland Quintero 98 Expressing Grief for the Dead among the Buaya Kalinga of Northern Philippines Felicidad A. Prudente 101 SESSION 13—Minangkabau Music and Dance of West Sumatra, Indonesia: Women, Architecture, Healing and Resilience (Panel) Garak Nagari Perempuan [The Instinct of Nagari Women] Identities of Minangkabau Women in the Rumah Gadang: A Dance Perspective (Lightning Paper) Susas Rita Loravianti 104 Identities of Minangkabau Women in the Rumah Gadang of Solok Selatan: Symbol of Bundo Kanduang (Lightning Paper) Nursyirwan 107 Sojourns in Science: Plural Framings of Music, Disaster and Community Resilience in Minangkabau Megan Collins 110 SESSION 14—ROUNDTABLE: Advocating Cultural and Social Change Through the Performing Arts Building Interethnic Peace Among Young People in Penang through Community Musical Theatre (Abstract) Tan Sooi Beng 265 Wayang Kulit Performance as a Tool to Improve the Cognitive Development in Cerebral Palsy Children (Abstract) Mumtaz Begum Aboo Backer 266 Performance as an Expressive Tool to Voice Cultural Identity among Refugee Children: A Case of Rohingya Refugee Communities (Abstract) Pravina Manoharan 266 Raising Social Issues through Folk Songs, Local Gestures and Movement in Devised Play (Abstract) A. S. Hardy Shafii 267 SESSION 15—Cultural Excursion Day SESSION 16—21st Century Multicultural Music Education in Malaysia: Transcending Boundaries in Revitalizing Local and Popular Genres in Formal and Non-Formal Music Education Belian Dado’ (Kenyah Dance-Songs) Across Boundaries of Language and Ethnicity in Music Education Chong Pek Lin 115 Crossing Borders from Village to Recording Studio—Continuity and Change in Sinding Secular Singing among the Kadazan Dusun of Sabah, Malaysia (Lightning Paper) Jacqueline Pugh-Kitingan 121 Jazz Education in Southeast Asia (Lightning Paper) Don Bowyer 124 Music of Sound: Empowering Young People in Recreating Popular Music Genres Using 21st Century Pedagogical Approaches from Multiple Intelligences Pathways Toh Lai Chee 126 SESSION 17—Sampling the Popular, Repurposing the Transnational: Exploring the Interface Between Folk Performance Forms and Transnational Performance Genre in Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore Kaleidoscoping Global Ethos through Local Responses in the Malay World: The Case of Despacito Leonardo Garcia Fuenzalida 132 Malay Chronicles, Thai Drama, Javanese Tales: Mak Yong, Intertextuality, and Pasisir Cultural Flow Patricia Hardwick 137 Commemorating the “Singapore-Medan” Connection: Contradictions in Appropriating “Indonesian” Repertories into the Singapore Malay Dance Canon Muhammad Noramin bin Mohamed Farid 142 From Folk Musicians to Popular Icons: Refashioning a Struggling Tamil Folk Music Tradition in Singapore Gene Lai 147 SESSION 18—Moving Music to the New and Local Modern: Lessons from Cross-border Sound Aesthetics from the Philippines Tanda de Valse and its Mode of Production in Nineteenth-Century Manila (Abstract) Arwin Q. Tan 267 From “Lelang” to “Novelty Song”: Movement of a Music Across Categorical Definitions in the Philippines (Abstract) Jose S. Buenconsejo 268 Fighting Back via Fliptop: Manila’s Take on Hiphop Battles (Abstract) Lara Mendoza 268 Filipino Indie Artists’ Impact to Popular Music Audiences (Abstract) Ma. Christina Cayabyab 269 SESSION 19—Performing Arts, Religiosity, Dedication, and Belief (Religious Doctrine) Functionalism and the Suling Dewa in the Ngaponin Sacred Purification Ceremony of Northern Lombok Nur Kholis Sumardi 151 Re-Voicing Pancasila: Catholic Music and Religious Pluralism in Indonesia (Lightning Paper) Emilie Coakley 156 “Wor Aurak” at a Marriage Proposal Ceremony by Biak Youth to a Sentani Young Woman at Jayapura, Papua, Indonesia (Lightning Paper) I Wayan Rai S. 158 Following the Whims of the Demon: The Function and Usage of Angsel/Ngopak in Jauk Keras (Lightning Paper) Kurt Schatz 161 Performing Ramayana: Contact Zone, Singapore Indian Dancers and Their Reflexivity (Abstract) Yoshiaki Takemura 269 SESSION 20—Innovation in Balinese Music: New Research in Musical Changes and Developments Innovation of Tembang Bali within an Ever-Changing Local-Global Domain I Komang Sudirga 165 Meguru Gending: I Ketut Sukarata’s Musical Concept for Playing Kendang Tunggal (Solo Drumming) (Lightning Paper) I Gde Made Indra Sadguna 171 Gamelan Gong Kebyar as Communication Media between Balinese and Sasak Ethnicities in Lombok (Lightning Paper) I Gede Yudarta 174 Answering Questions, Questioning Answers: Intellectuality in the Creative Process of Balinese Gamelan Composition I Wayan Sudirana 179 SESSION 21—Crossing Borders through Popular Performance Genres in Southeast Asia Border Crossing of Popular Performance Genres and the Search for Identity: A Case Study on Indonesian Dance Performance (Lightning Paper) Madoka Fukuoka 185 D’ Academy Asia: Crossing Borders through Dangdut Contest (Lightning Paper) Michael HB Raditya 188 Crossing Borders through Popular Performance: A Comparative Study between Southern-Thai and Malay Menora (Abstract) Kanit Sripaoraya 270 ASEAN Pop: Contemporary Pop Music with Rich and Diverse Traditions (Abstract) Isabella Pek 270 SESSION 22—Vocalized Popular Music of Southeast Asia Kulintang in Philippine Ethnic Pop: Identity and Aesthetic Cosmopolitanism (Lightning Paper) Teresa A. Montes 192 Goyang Karawang: Exploration of Womens’ Body between Rites and Fiesta (Abstract) Citra Aryandari 270 The Birth of Iban Popular Song in the 1960s (Lightning Paper) Connie Lim Keh Nie 195 Journey Across Borders: The Unfulfilled Desire of Megat Nordin Raja Iskandar bin Raja Halid 198 SESSION 23—Music and Dance Heritage, New Compositions and Foreign Traditions in Bali Tango in Paradise: Why Dance Tango Argentino on Bali? Kendra Stepputat 201 The Dancer’s Image and the Visual Discourse on Tourism and Sustainability in Bali Elizabeth A. Clendinning 205 Who are the Communities Involved in Intangible Cultural Heritage? A Consideration of the “Beautiful Indonesia Miniature Park” Proposal as Best Practice (Lightning Paper) Yukako Yoshida 210 Basang Tundun: Compositional Concept in Balinese Gamelan (Lightning Paper) I Wayan Diana Putra 213 Reassembling Musical Heritage: The Agency of Wayan Pande Tusan and Gamelan Selonding Culture in Bali (Lightning Paper) Akiko Nozawa 216 The Gendering of Gender: Exploring Femininity and the Female Role in Balinese Shadow Theatre Music (Abstract) Meghan Hynson 271 SESSION 24—ROUNDTABLE: The Malay Shadow Play (Wayang Kulit) in Transit: Sustainability/Viability of a Traditional Malaysian Art in the 21st Century Introduction to the Roundtable Presentations and Demonstration Patricia Matusky 219 The 20th Century Style of Wayang Kulit Kelantan Patricia Matusky 220 Different Approaches to New Shadow Play (Wayang Kulit) Music in Malaysia Hamdan Adnan 224 A New Hope: Peperangan Bintang Wayang Kulit Christine May Yong 227 Shadow of Change Tintoy Chuo 231 Peperangan Bintang (‘Star Wars’ Inspired Wayang Kulit) (Notes on the Performance) Tok Dalang Pak Dain (Muhammad Dain bin Othman) 234 SESSION 25—Popularizing the Indigenous, Indigenizing the Popular Popularizing the Indigenous as an Alternative Modernity: The Development of Dero in Central Sulawesi, Indonesia Mayco Santaella 235 Cello-Drumming in Indonesian Keroncong (Abstract) Andy McGraw 271 New Nostalgia: Yogyakarta’s Annual Keroncong Festival (Abstract) Hannah Marie Standiford 272 Multi-Hybridity in Indonesian Keroncong Music in the Twenty-First Century (Lightning Paper) Mei Artanto 238 SESSION 26—ROUNDTABLE: Sustainable Tourism Potential for the West Javanese Performance Practices Wayang Golek and UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage Labelling…15 Years After (Abstract) Sarah Anais Andrieu 272 Putting an Old Silat Culture of Banten and its Music Back into the Public Uwe U. Paetzold 242 Performance and Spectacle as an Element of Domestic Tourism in Banten Kidul, West Jawa, Indonesia (Abstract) Randal Baier 273 SESSION 27—New Research for the Performing Arts in Southeast Asia Locating Yolŋu Cultural Expressions of Historical Makassan Exchanges in NE Arnhem Land Aaron Corn 247 Human/Other Relations in Burmese Performing Arts: Dissolving the Boundaries of Self Gavin Douglas 253 Beyond Hybridization: Javanese Black Metal and Transcultural Music (Lightning Paper) Gianluca Chelini 257 ‘Maid’ Invisible: Marginalised and Reclaimed Soundscapes of Foreign Domestic Workers in Singapore (Abstract) Tan Shzr Ee 273 ADDENDUM TO TABLE OF CONTENTS Presenter & Title Andrew Igai Jamu 72 Ajat Indu: From Ruai to Proscenium Stage of Sarawak Cultural Village (SCV) (Lightning Paper) Andrieu, Sarah Anais 272 Wayang Golek and UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage Labelling…15 Years After (Abstract) Baier, Randal Performance and Spectacle as an Element of Domestic Tourism in Banten Kidul, West Jawa, Indonesia (Abstract) 273 Bowyer, Don Jazz Education in Southeast Asia (Lightning Paper) 124 Buenconsejo, Jose S. 268 From “Lelang” to “Novelty Song”: Movement of a Music Across Categorical Definitions in the Philippines (Abstract) Cayabyab, Cristina Maria P. Filipino Indie Artists’ Impact to Popular Music Audiences (Abstract) 269 Chan, Clare Suet Ching Hand Percussion: Performing Cosmopolitanism through Musical Alliances Across the Globe (Abstract) 265 Chiarofonte, Lorenzo 30 Performance Contexts of Burmese Puppetry: Postmodern Strategies in Today’s Myanmar Cultural Tourism (Lightning Paper) Chelini, Gianluca Beyond Hybridization: Javanese Black Metal and Transcultural Music (Lightning Paper) 257 Chong, Pek Lin Belian Dado’ (Kenyah Dance-Songs) Across Boundaries of Language and Ethnicity in Music Education 115 Chuo, Tintoy Shadow of Change 231 Citra Aryandari Goyang Karawang: Exploration of Womens’ Body between Rites and Fiesta (Abstract) 270 Clendinning, Elizabeth The Dancer’s Image and the Visual Discourse on Tourism and Sustainability in Bali 205 Coakley, Emilie Re-Voicing Pancasila: Catholic Music and Religious Pluralism in Indonesia (Lightning Paper) 156 Collins, Megan 110 Sojourns in Science: Plural Framings of Music, Disaster and Community Resilience in Minangkabau Corn, Aaron Locating Yolŋu Cultural Expressions of Historical Makassan Exchanges in NE Arnhem Land 247 Douglas, Gavin Human/Other Relations in Burmese Performing Arts: Dissolving the Boundaries of Self 253 Fuenzalida, Leonardo Garcia 132 Kaleidoscoping Global Ethos through Local Responses in the Malay World: The Case of Despacito Fukuoka, Madoka Border Crossing of Popular Performance Genres and the Search for Identity: A Case Study on Indonesian Dance Performance (Lightning Paper) 185 Gigih Alfajar Subculture as Performing Arts Case Study: Oyot Godhong Cabaret Café (Lightning Paper) 80 Ha, Sangwoo 261 Sharing K-Pop Choreography Across the Border: Dance Cover Activities in the Malaysian Chinese Diaspora (Abstract) Hafzan Zannie Hamza ‘Disavowed Freedom’: The Decontexualization of Igal (Dance) Tradition (Abstract) 262 Hamdan Adnan Different Approaches to New Shadow Play (Wayang Kulit) Music in Malaysia 224 Hardwick, Patricia 137 Malay Chronicles, Thai Drama, Javanese Tales: Mak Yong, Intertextuality, and Pasisir Cultural Flow Hardy Shafii, A. S. 267 Raising Social Issues through Folk Songs, Local Gestures and Movement in Devised Play (Abstract) Harnish, David Looking for “Home”: Cultural Identity in the Traditional Musics of Lombok 13 Hood, Made Mantle Ki Mantle Hood’s Centenary: Honouring My Father, a Pioneer of Ethnomusicology xxiv Hynson, Meghan The Gendering of Gender: Exploring Femininity and the Female Role in Balinese Shadow Theatre Music (Abstract) 271 I Gde Made Indra Sadguna Meguru Gending: I Ketut Sukarata’s Musical Concept for Playing Kendang Tunggal (Solo Drumming) (Lightning Paper) 171 I Gede Yudarta Gamelan Gong Kebyar as Communication Media between Balinese and Sasak Ethnicities in Lombok (Lightning Paper) 174 I Komang Sudirga Innovation of Tembang Bali within an Ever-Changing Local-Global Domain 165 Insee Adler, Supeena 33 Constructing a Place for the Youngest Royal Musician in the Royal Cremation of King Rama IX (Lightning Paper) Indra Ridwan The Significant Role of the Arranger in Pop Sunda (Lightning Paper) 87 Inoue, Sayuri Oral Transmission System of Burmese Classical Songs: Overview of Bazat-Hsaing or Mouth-Music (Lightning Paper) 39 I Wayan Diana Putra Basang Tundun: Compositional Concept in Balinese Gamelan (Lightning Paper) 213 I Wayan Rai S. “Wor Aurak” at a Marriage Proposal Ceremony by Biak Youth to a Sentani Young Woman at Jayapura, Papua, Indonesia (Lightning Paper) 158 I Wayan Sudirana Answering Questions, Questioning Answers: Intellectuality in the Creative Process of Balinese Gamelan Composition 179 Kajimaru, Gaku Khap Samneua from the Perspective of the Mobility of Singers (Lightning Paper) 36 Kanit Sripaoraya 270 Crossing Borders through Popular Performance: A Comparative Study between Southern-Thai and Malay Menora (Abstract) Kartomi, Margaret 264 Icons of Malay Identity in the Musical Arts of Indonesia’s Riau Archipelago: Concepts of Space, Place and Generative Memory Codes (Abstract) Kuo, Ta-Hsin 261 Majority or Minority: Vietnamese Music Scene in the First Square, Taichung City, Taiwan (Abstract) Lai, Gene 147 From Folk Musicians to Popular Icons: Refashioning a Struggling Tamil Folk Music Tradition in Singapore Lee, Ming-Yen 262 Uniquely Singapore: Nanyang-Styled Compositions of the Singapore Chinese Orchestra (Abstract) Leow, Puay Tin Pichet Klunchun’s Site-Specific Monkeys: A Methodological Monologue (Lightning Paper) 42 Lim, Connie Keh Nie The Birth of Iban Popular Song in the 1960s (Lightning Paper) 195 Lin, Wei-Ya Maataw – the Floating Island: Performing Eco-Criticism for Tao People through an Artistic Application of Research Findings (Abstract) 259 Lissoir, Marie-Pierre Tourism and Performing Arts in Laos: The Lao Ramayana of Luang Prabang (Lightning Paper) 24 Macazo, Crisancti Sonic Framework: Re-Inventing Philippine Cinema Soundtrack (Lightning Paper) 58 Mashino, Ako Gelungan in Balinese Arja: Physical and Psychological Interaction between Headdress and Performer (Lightning Paper) 27 Matusky, Patricia The 20th Century Style of Wayang Kulit Kelantan 220 McGraw, Andy Cello-Drumming in Indonesian Keroncong (Abstract) 271 Mei Artanto 238 Multi-Hybridity in Indonesian Keroncong Music in the Twenty-First Century (Lightning Paper) Meloni, Ilaria 7 From Sunda to Banyuwangi Across Campursari, Hip-Hop and Gamelan: Crossing Geographical and Musical Borders on the Central Javanese Wayang Kulit Stage Mendoza, Lara Fighting Back via Fliptop: Manila’s Take on Hiphop Battles (Abstract) 268 Mohd Anis Md Nor 49 Ronggeng Re-Invented: The Emergence of New Repertoires from Singapore to Peninsular Malaysia Mohd Hafzal bin Aziz The Invention and Construction of Zapin Sebat: Across Sarawak-Sambas (East Malaysia-West Kalimantan) (Lightning Paper) 75 Montes, Teresa A. Kulintang in Philippine Ethnic Pop: Identity and Aesthetic Cosmopolitanism (Lightning Paper) 192 Muhammad Dain bin Othman Peperangan Bintang (‘Star Wars’ Inspired Wayang Kulit) (Notes on the Performance) 234 Muhammad Noramin bin Mohamed Farid 142 Commemorating the “Singapore-Medan” Connection: Contradictions in Appropriating “Indonesian” Repertories into the Singapore Malay Dance Canon Mumtaz Begum Aboo Backer Wayang Kulit Performance as a Tool to Improve the Cognitive Development in Cerebral Palsy Children (Abstract) 266 Nozawa, Akiko Reassembling Musical Heritage: The Agency of Wayan Pande Tusan and Gamelan Selonding Culture in Bali (Lightning Paper) 216 Nur Izzati Jamalludin 263 Bringing the Bangsal to Stage: Performing the Urban Mek Mulung in Collaboration with Performers of Kampung Wang Tepus (Abstract) Nur Kholis Sumardi 151 Functionalism and the Suling Dewa in the Ngaponin Sacred Purification Ceremony of Northern Lombok Nursyirwan Identities of Minangkabau Women in the Rumah Gadang of Solok Selatan: Symbol of Bundo Kanduang (Lightning Paper) 107 Ong, Rachel 77 Baba Nyonya Dance: A Preliminary Survey on the Social History of Peranakan Dance Groups in Melaka (Lightning Paper) Paetzold Uwe U. Putting an Old Silat Culture of Banten and its Music Back into the Public 242 Pangsiw, Felistina B. The Sogna and Ullalim Songs of the Mudacayan Kalinga People of Northern Philippines 95 Pawinee Boonserm The Re-invention of Thai Classical Dance: Change and the New Tradition (Abstract) 263 Pek, Isabella ASEAN Pop: Contemporary Pop Music with Rich and Diverse Traditions (Abstract) 270 Pravina Manoharan 266 Performance as an Expressive Tool to Voice Cultural Identity among Refugee Children: A Case of Rohingya Refugee Communities (Abstract) Prudente, Felicidad A. Expressing Grief for the Dead among the Buaya Kalinga of Northern Philippines 101 Pugh-Kitingan, Jacqueline 121 Crossing Borders from Village to Recording Studio—Continuity and Change in Sinding Secular Singing among the Kadazan Dusun of Sabah, Malaysia (Lightning Paper) Quintero, Desiree A. “It is like a Flower”: Understandings in Pangalay Movement (Lightning Paper) 93 Quintero, Wayland Embodiment of Movement in Dance as Enculturation: Kiangan, Ifugao Province, Cordillera Administrative Region, Northern Philippines 98 Raditya, Michael HB D’ Academy Asia: Crossing Borders through Dangdut Contest (Lightning Paper) 188 Raja Iskandar bin Raja Halid Journey Across Borders: The Unfulfilled Desire of Megat Nordin 198 Rapoport, Eva Touring Spirits, Javanese Trance Dance in Immigrant Communities: Adaptive Strategies and Transformations of Meaning (Lightning Paper) 90 Ross, Lawrence Nathaniel Phleng Tanyong: A Thai-Language Ronggeng Idiom Develops in Southwest Thailand 46 Santaella, Mayco Popularizing the Indigenous as an Alternative Modernity: The Development of Dero in Central Sulawesi, Indonesia 235 Schatz, Kurt Following the Whims of the Demon: The Function and Usage of Angsel/Ngopak in Jauk Keras (Lightning Paper) 161 Scott-Maxwell, Aline 1 From Kuda Lumping to Indonesian Pop: Australian Cross-Cultural and Cross-Border ‘Engagement’ with Indonesia through Music and Dance Presentations and Re-Imaginings Shishikura, Masaya 18 Nostalgia in Motion: Transition and Transformation of a Japanese Enka Song in East and Southeast Asia Skinner, Anthea The Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band 83 Spiller, Henry Making Sundanese Music Local Again: Galengan Sara Awi’s Bamboo Musical Instruments and Sundanese Modernity (Abstract) 259 Standiford, Hannah Marie New Nostalgia: Yogyakarta’s Annual Keroncong Festival (Abstract) 272 Stepputat, Kendra Tango in Paradise: Why Dance Tango Argentino on Bali? 201 Susas Rita Loravianti Garak Nagari Perempuan [The Instinct of Nagari Women] Identities of Minangkabau Women in the Rumah Gadang: A Dance Perspective (Lightning Paper) 104 Takemura, Yoshiaki 269 Performing Ramayana: Contact Zone, Singapore Indian Dancers and Their Reflexivity (Abstract) Tan, Arwin Q. Tanda de Valse and its Mode of Production in Nineteenth-Century Manila (Abstract) 267 Tan, Shzr Ee ‘Maid’ Invisible: Marginalised and Reclaimed Soundscapes of Foreign Domestic Workers in Singapore (Abstract) 273 Tan, Sooi Beng 265 Building Interethnic Peace Among Young People in Penang through Community Musical Theatre (Abstract) Taton, Jose R. Jr. Buut and Pangako: Interiority and Performativity in the Sayaw Tradition in Tubungan, Iloilo (Lightning Paper) 55 Thomas, Karen 264 Dance Practices and Composition in the Indonesian-Malay Mendu Theatrical Form of Riau’s Natuna Islands (Abstract) Toh, Lai Chee 126 Music of Sound: Empowering Young People in Recreating Popular Music Genres Using 21st Century Pedagogical Approaches from Multiple Intelligences Pathways Tong, Darrell Hung-Ren 67 Changing Names and Meanings in the Pounding Pestles Rite of the Thau People: A Literature Survey on Past Researches (Lightning Paper) Trimillos, Ricardo Globalizing Filipino Songs, Bodies, and Sounds Beyond Homeland 12 Tsai, Tsung-Te 62 Music in Daily Life: Performance Location, Music Source, and Social Function of Karaoke Activities in Chinese-Indonesian Community Java Wong, Deborah Sound, Power, and Death: The Royal Funeral of HRH King Rama IX (Abstract) 260 Yohanes Hanan Pamungkas 260 The Song of Sri Tanjung: A Story of Spirit Journey in Ancient Javanese Culture (Film, Abstract) Yong, Christine May A New Hope: Peperangan Bintang Wayang Kulit 227 Yoshida, Yukako Who are the Communities Involved in Intangible Cultural Heritage? A Consideration of the “Beautiful Indonesia Miniature Park” Proposal as Best Practice (Lightning Paper) 210 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The Proceedings of the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia is the result of a shared contribution of papers by presenters, editors and sponsors of this publication. We thank all of them for their contributions. As a special mention, we wish to acknowledge the following institutions and agencies for their assistance in making the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia a success. For the local arrangements committee and publisher of the Proceedings, the ICTM-PASEA Study Group acknowledges: Department of Sabah Museum, Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment, Sabah Faculty of Humanities, Arts and Heritage, Universiti Malaysia Sabah For a tribute to the renowned scholar and ethnomusicologist, Ki Mantle Hood, on the centenary of his birth, we thank his son, Professor Dr. Made Mantle Hood, for the commemorative article. Finally, we wish to extend our gratitude to the International Council for Traditional Music (ICTM), the parent body of this Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia, for their constant support and for providing a space on their website for the online version of the PASEA Proceedings. Thank you (Terima kasih) Mayco Santaella, Chair, Programme Committee Mansur Haji Asun, and Jacqueline Pugh-Kitingan. Chair and Deputy Chair, Local Arrangements Committee xix INTRODUCTION AND THEMES OF THE 5th SYMPOSIUM The 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (PASEA) was hosted and sponsored by the Department of Sabah Museum, Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia, the Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment Sabah, and the Universiti Sabah Malaysia, 16 - 22 July 2018. With this Proceedings, the ICTM Study Group on PASEA celebrates the 10-year anniversary of its existence and the 5th production of a Proceedings documenting the Study Group’s bi-annual Symposium. As a further distinguishing aspect within this 5th Proceedings, the ICTM Study Group on PASEA pays tribute to the ethnomusicologist, Ki Mantle Hood, on his centenary birth year by including a commemorative article written by his son, Professor Dr. Made Mantle Hood. The 5th PASEA Symposium opened on 16 July with welcoming remarks from the Director of the Sabah Museum, Mr. Mansur Haji Asun, who spoke on behalf of the Department of Sabah Museum and the Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment thanking the delegates and participants for their presence at the Sabah Museum. He also expressed Sabah Museum’s appreciation to the Executive Committee of ICTM-PASEA for selecting the Sabah Museum as the site for the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (PASEA). In his capacity as the Chair of the Local Arrangements Committee for ICTM-PASEA 2018, Mr. Mansur Haji Ansun took the opportunity to thank the Local Arrangements Committee for the work they had done that contributed to the making of the 5th Symposium of ICTM-PASEA. He gave his assurances that the Local Arrangements Committee would work closely with the Program Committee throughout the week-long event in order to ensure the success of the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (PASEA). This was followed by opening remarks delivered by the Chair of ICTM-PASEA, Professor Dr. Mohd Anis Md Nor, who thanked the Department of Sabah Museum, the Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment, and the Local Arrangements Committee for facilitating preparations toward the Museum’s inaugural event of hosting ICTM-PASEA for the first time ever in Sabah. He also thanked the Program Committee chaired by Dr. Mayco Santaella, for successfully putting together Papers, Round Tables, Panels, Lightning Papers inclusive of sub-study group meetings and ICTM-PASEA general meeting. He acknowledged the high expectations from ICTM-PASEA participants that the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (PASEA) would generate a wonderful and highly engaged meeting of scholars, practitioners, and students in academic and scholarly research on the Performing Arts of Southeast Asia. The final opening remarks were delivered by the Chair of the Program Committee, Dr. Mayco Santaella, who thanked members of his committee for the work that each of them had put in from late 2017 to the date of the 5th Symposium. The work included reviewing abstract proposals to the making of the symposium program in cooperative tandem with logistical planning by the Local Arrangements Committee at the Sabah Museum. Dr. Santaella explained to attendees how the program was put together with the idea that younger to senior scholars would share similar sessions presenting full papers and lightning papers. Themes With two specific themes as the main focus of topics in this 2018 Symposium, along with papers and reports on new research, this published Proceedings has been organized and presented in the identical format and arrangement of the 5th Symposium itself. Each of the seven days of the symposium was filled with ten to fifteen or more reports and regular paper presentations that provided the delegates a varied selection of topic presentations by PASEA members (especially graduate students from Southeast Asia) as well as roundtables. The number of presentations totalled one hundred and one (101) in all. While the main organization of the papers in this Proceedings book mirrors the organization of the symposium program, readers can do a quick search for a particular paper or author by referring to an alphabetical listing of authors with title and page number that follows the Table of Contents. xx As in past PASEA symposia, the delegates enjoyed one day during this symposium to travel together on a cultural tour. For this symposium, the areas that were selected were along the west coast of Sabah. The day’s adventure included a bus tour to see and walk on the famous bridge at Tamparuli, a visit at Kampung Rampayan Laut at Kota Belud and a short river cruise. Some PASEA members also enjoyed a post-symposium excursion to the interior Tambunan area of the state. As mentioned above, the 5th Symposium focused on two main themes and new research. These themes were represented in the form of regular papers by the PASEA members and also in ‘lightning’ report papers mainly by graduate students as well as by some of the regular members reporting on their current research-in-progress. A description of the themes follows. THEME I: Crossing Borders through Popular Performing Arts Forms in Southeast Asia This theme envisions a discussion of popular performing art genres and their movement across both physical and virtual borders that are on one hand considered to be limiting or restricting, and on the other hand, protecting. Such borders can be caused by issues and phenomena such as traditionalism, nationalism, prejudice, ignorance and so forth. The focus of this theme opens the possibilities for a broad discussion of how performing arts genres in Southeast Asia, that are popular by definition of being practiced and consumed by a large number of people, enable both performers and spectators to widen personal experiences, broaden their recognition or influence, and how, in turn, such movements and border crossings may lead to an internationalization, relocation or general change in the performing arts genres themselves. THEME II: Tourism and the Performing Arts in Southeast Asia Southeast Asia attracts tourists from all over the world due to its historical sites, its climate, its contrasting landscapes, its highly interesting cuisine and its diverse music and dance cultures of different people and religions. These music and dance cultures are preferably represented in performances that consider the purposes of tourism in various ways. As tourism is one of the steadily growing subjects in Southeast Asia, tourism and the performing arts do mutually influence each other in an often, contradictory manner. Thus, this topic includes questions of:          Modifications in music and dance production, which accommodate unexpected or different levels of understanding among audiences The impact of global production modes and employment patterns on cultural recreation Reduction or re-definition of ritual or religious justification of performances Re-invention of traditions Export of cultural set pieces regarding music and dance Manipulation of cultural experiences with music and dance Recruitment of music and dance performers according to external expectations The role of mass media in the process of co-educating audiences and promoting tourism And many other questions, which may shed light on that tremendously important aspect of current developments in the performing arts of Southeast Asia THEME III: New Research This theme covers all new research topics by members of the PASEA Study Group and may be presented in the form of a full 20-minute paper or a 10-minute lightning report. xxi Group photo of participants at the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia, at the host institution, Department of Sabah Museum, Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia, 16 - 22 July 2018. xxii A TRIBUTE1 KI MANTLE HOOD 1 The ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia wishes to extend a sincere tribute to a famous ethnomusicologist, Mantle Hood, on this his centennial year. As we reflect on his work and concepts set forth in the field of ethnomusicology many decades ago, we acknowledge the continued importance of his ideas on original field research, bi-musicality, and other concepts, processes and procedures that are relevant in music research today. The presentation on this eminent scholar, given at the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia, is presented in this article by his son, Professor Dr. Made Mantle Hood. xxiii PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA KI MANTLE HOOD’S CENTENARY: HONOURING MY FATHER, A PIONEER OF ETHNOMUSICOLOGY Made Mantle Hood Tainan National University of Arts, Taiwan Introduction In this paper, Ki Mantle Hood (1918-2005) is both remembered for his past contributions to the field of ethnomusicology and honoured for mentoring future generations of students. In the early 1950s, Ki Mantle Hood established the program of ethnomusicology at the University of California, Los Angeles to encompass the study of musical, social and cultural dimensions of human expression in American universities. At the time, it was considered quite novel and even risky to actually learn and perform Thai piphat, Javanese gamelan or Japanese gagaku in the same institutions of higher learning as Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. But Mantle Hood was a visionary. Today many universities around the globe offer world music courses, graduate programs, and performance ensembles in ethnomusicology. This paper examines three areas of Hood’s career: the early years of Hood’s establishing the UCLA program; my personal experiences as his student, and his enduring methodology of bi-musicality and its relevance for future generations of scholars. Four events held in the USA, Thailand, Malaysia and Slovenia marked the centenary of pioneering ethnomusicologist, Ki Mantle Hood in 2018. The first was held in California on May 31st to honour Mantle Hood and his contributions to the field. After ten years of inactivity at the UCLA Herb Alpert School of Music, the original gamelan purchased by Hood for UCLA called Gamelan Khyai Mendung, one of the very first gamelan in the United States, was refurbished for the special occasion. Introduced by Mantle Hood’s student Münir Beken, the Director of the World Music Center, a new generation of UCLA students led by Pak Djoko Walujo Wimboprasetyo presented a concert entitled, “Music of Java - Mantle Hood’s 100th Birthday”. This was followed by lectures and discussions about Hood’s archival materials recently donated by Hazel Chung to the UCLA Ethnomusicology Archive which included original fieldnotes, audio recordings and photographs. The second event took place in Bangkok, Thailand on July 5th during the "Theories and Methods of Ethnomusicology and Ethnochoreology” Symposium organized by Chulalongkorn University which had papers from ICTM Executive Board members including Salwa El-Shawan Castelo-Branco, ICTM President, Ursula Hemetek, Don Niles and Larry Witzleben among others. There was a Roundtable entitled ‘The Legacies of Mantle Hood’ organized by Svanibor Pettan, a poster exhibition organized by Bussakorn Binson, a paper presentation by Made Mantle Hood; Hindu-Balinese prayer by Ketut Gede Asnawa; celebratory dance called Puspanjali arranged by Hazel Chung Hood. Figure 1. Hazel Chung Hood and her family with Kjell Skyllstad and Svanibor Pettan after the 2018 Centenary performance honouring Mantle Hood at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok. (Photo by I Ketut Gede Asnawa, used with permission) The third event honouring Mantle Hood’s centenary was presented in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia during the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on PASEA (July 16-22). Made Mantle Hood presented a paper in honour of his father entitled, ‘Ki Mantle Hood’s Centenary: Honouring My father, a pioneer of xxiv KI MANTLE HOOD’S CENTENARY: HONOURING MY FATHER, A PIONEER OF ETHNOMUSICOLOGY ethnomusicology’ followed by a Balinese dance performance by the Hood family including Hazel Chung, Ni Nyoman Somawati and granddaughters Mahea and Maile. An exhibition of commemorative posters, books and publications were put on display. The fourth event was held in Ljubljana on August 25th which consisted of an exhibition of posters and a commemoration paper by Svanibor Pettan as part of the International Multidisciplinary Symposium on the Sounds of Minorities in National Contexts in Ljubljana, Slovenia. First of all, I would like to thank Chulalongkorn University and the Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts which initiated a one-day symposium that inspired me to formulate memories and impressions of my father for this paper. My heartfelt appreciation goes to Prof. Kjell Skyllstad for proposing a centenary celebration in January 2018 and I sincerely thank the Dean of the Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts, Prof. Bussakorn Binson for her unwavering support and dedication for me to present in Bangkok. Now giving this paper in Kota Kinabalu, I am grateful for this opportunity to say a few words about my father, Mantle Hood. But before I do its lady’s first. I would like to honour my mother Hazel Chung Hood who joins us today. She was Mantle Hood’s partner in crime during the so called ‘Golden Age’ of ethnomusicology, both personally as a spouse, and professionally as one of the first women to help build UCLA’s program in ethnic dance. She worked tirelessly to train her students in dance who would go on to become leaders in the field. Indeed, the Hood/Chung partnership and the partnership between early ethnomusicology and the dance department at UCLA was crucial in the formative years of the field and that continues until today. Ki Mantle Hood (1918-2005) is remembered for his past contributions to the field of ethnomusicology. Ki Mantle Hood established the program of ethnomusicology in the early 1950s at the University of California, Los Angeles to encompass the study of musical, social and cultural dimensions of human expression. In this paper I will examine three areas of my father’s career: the early years of Hood’s establishment of the UCLA program; my personal experiences as his student, and his enduring methodology of bi-musicality and its relevance for future generations of scholars. With this centenary celebration, it gives me an excuse to dig through some of Mantle Hood’s stuff piled up in my office. I would like to briefly take you back in history to the years just prior to the 1960s and the establishment of the UCLA Ethnomusicology Institute. I thought it would be fun to share with you some of the dirt I uncovered about my father through his letters of correspondence. In 1957, Hood had just left California to embark on a two-year field research trip to Central Java in Indonesia. He was weighted down by 200 reel-to-reel tapes, microphones and recording equipment to record and study the performance practices of master gamelan musicians in the cities of Yogya, Solo and Bandung. At UCLA, he left behind a program in the emerging field of ethnomusicology. Bill Malm was teaching in Hood’s absence. The Chairman of the Department of Music, Robert Nelson, was given a laundry list of items that Hood had systematically written down to transform the program into an institute. My father was always thinking 5 years ahead. “Where are we going? What needs to be done?” he would say to me. Hood’s plans included setting up an exchange program for UCLA graduate students to study abroad, purchasing world music instruments, and remodelling the basement of the music building so students could experience the music they studied. All of this required money. Sponsors, Student Grants and Bi-Musicality While in Indonesia, Hood wrote and revised grant applications to the Rockefeller Foundation in New York. In a letter dated June 19, 1958 addressed to Dr. Charles Fahs, the Director of the Humanities Division of the Rockefeller Foundation, Hood’s reasoning as to why money should be spent supporting his students in field research is conveyed by Nelson. Nelson writes: It is the opinion of Dr. Hood that the best qualified student this year, and the one working in an area most vitally in need of field research, is Mr. David Morton. His field of study is the music of Thailand. Dr. Hood feels that the materials Morton may discover in that area will have an important bearing on his own work and on the work of our man in India, Robert Brown. We believe that granting a fellowship for study in this area is in keeping with the philosophy of the program, (Nelson, 1958, correspondence letter, UCLA archives). The letter goes on to mention that Hood’s proposal for funds will also be used to purchase a rare collection of tapes from India and a set of Persian instruments from Iranian music scholar, Hormoz Farhat. The proposal also outlines Hoods plans to build UCLA’s Japanese collection through the efforts of Mr. Robert Garfias xxv MADE MANTLE HOOD who was on his way to Japan at the time. The list of names goes on. Hardja Susilo is earmarked for travel money and a graduate assistantship that will see him earn his Masters at UCLA and go on to train many of today’s leading scholars in Indonesian music. Tangore Viswanathan receives a grant and later becomes the guru of generations of students at Wesleyan University. For me, the letters of correspondence convey the nature of a man driven by his passion and conviction for his students and colleagues to succeed in their endeavours. Their endeavours were taking them across social, cultural and musical boundaries towards the direction of Hood’s master plan: to embed his methodological approach firmly into the psyche of the field: that approach was, and is, Bi-musicality. Hood’s musical identity is inextricably linked to this linguistically inspired term. Those students who graduated from UCLAs institute of ethnomusicology and went on to establish their own programs, may or may not have used the term themselves to describe their approach. Indeed, the term ‘bi-musicality’ appears less frequently in contemporary literature. It has been critiqued in online forums such as Decolonializing Ethnomusicology for essentializing culture, and as Nettl exclaims, “...an outsider cannot come to understand music like a native, even though he or she tries to follow the path of bi-musicality” (in Titon, 1995, p. 288). What relevance does bi-musicality have given today’s international geo-political climate of increased racial tension, forced migration, and neo-nationalism? What value does learning through bimusicality have for current and future generations of scholars? Hood’s bi-musicality has been shown to help students bridge differences, cultivate understanding, and advocate for tolerance through praxis, exposure and experience. And the fact remains that today, World Music ensembles still function as gateways into ethnomusicology for most University students in programs across the globe. Bi-musicality was never simply about performing displays of ‘Otherness’ for the sake of entertainment. It was, and still is, about getting at the deeper communicative aspects of a musician’s palette of expression. It is about respect, honour, and admiration for the diversity of a culture’s musical structures, tonal systems, and approaches to rhythm. Mantle the Mentor and his Anecdotes I remember Mantle Hood not only as my teacher but as a mentor. And there is a difference. During my undergraduate studies at the University of Maryland Baltimore County, I attended my father’s pro-seminar, research methods and field research classes. His lectures involved not just instructing students from his lesson plan, but cultivating their individual passions for music through critical thinking and debate. It is one thing for a teacher to instruct or guide a student, but Mantle had this innate ability to relate course content to student’s own research interests. He always started the first class of each semester going around the room encouraging each student to not just introduce themselves, but to feel comfortable enough to open up and share what they were most passionate about in studying music. Dad made students feel welcome. Dad was a listener. He listened carefully when students spoke. He asked them questions with the objective to better understand their motivations, desires and interests. The ethnomusicologist is inclined to be highly sensitive to other human beings, to respect their scales of values and their behaviour, even if these are not compatible with his own…He has a healthy curiosity about the new and the unknown and a talent for stepping outside himself…long enough to take a sympathetic look at the unknown…Above all, his liking for music is closely tied to his liking for people;…In the most literal sense, he is a humanist attuned to the world of the arts. (Hood, 1971) Hood’s literal interpretation of his positionality as a humanist attuned to the world of arts became the fuel for his papers, course material, his lecture topics. Ethnomusicology readings, methods and theories came alive because Hood always related them to students’ projects in meaningful and tangible ways. We had Indian, African, Taiwanese, and Indonesian musicians sitting next to good-old American Jazz guitarists, sound engineers, and concert pianists, many of whom had never travelled abroad. Dad not only taught, he mentored his students by bridging cultural gaps, and linking theories with the practicalities of each student’s research project. In this way he encouraged diversity by bringing students together as a mentor. The other point I would like to make about Mantle Hood’s teaching concerns one of his greatest pedagogical approaches in ethnomusicology: his use of the anecdote. The anecdote, or ‘story telling’ was my father’s signature teaching tool. This ‘teaching through association’ tool gave narrative to the discipline’s musical and social theories. For example, I remember him lecturing on Pike’s emic and etic, insider/outsider theory. He helped students problematize this theoretical binary by critically analysing Western concepts xxvi KI MANTLE HOOD’S CENTENARY: HONOURING MY FATHER, A PIONEER OF ETHNOMUSICOLOGY about the categories of music and dance and how many cultures see movement and sound as intertwined media. Dad would lean back in his office chair, take off his bifocals, and stroke his white head of hair as if to jar the memory he was about to share with his students. He told us a story about how he was driving along a winding road on the island of Hawaiʻi. Seated next to him in his convertible MGA sports car was a senior Kumu Hula dance teacher. As they drove, the hula teacher explained to Mantle how hula was much more than pretty girls dressed in grass skirts swaying their hips and arms to music. Traditional mele hula was more akin to poetry in motion, sung text honouring revered ancestors or even protective spirits that often appear in the form of animals. They continued driving along Hawaiʻi’s North shore with the Pacific Ocean on one side and volcanic mountain cliffs on the other. The dance teacher who came from a long line of revered hula instructors explained that his protective spirit was the Owl, a native bird revered for its strength and wisdom. This insider, emic positionality that stood in opposition to Hood’s initial etic understanding of hula dance got my father thinking. Suddenly, as Mantle steered the car up the tree-lined coastal road, an owl swooped down in front of his car and proceeded to lead the vehicle for several minutes. Just as quickly as the owl appeared it flew away back towards the palm trees, the kumu hula teacher smiled confidently at the ethnomusicologist who now appreciated Hawaiian performing arts as much more than just dance or music. ‘Story telling’ was my father’s signature teaching tool. I am sure many of Mantle’s students continue this anecdote tradition and tell their own stories. Conclusion On a personal note, I would like to invoke the names of my three brothers who also remember and honour their father today. Marlowe, who lives in Paris, remembers growing up seated on the floor of UCLA’s music building playing gongs and drums in the gamelan. My brother Maiyo, who has lived and worked in Hong Kong for 25 years, remembers his Tagalog inspired name connects him to the late Jose Maceda, one of Mantle’s first PhD students. And finally, Mitro in Baltimore gets his name from the brother of the late Hardja Susilo, also my father’s student who taught ethnomusicology for many years at the University of Hawaiʻi. Come to think of it, my own name is also inspired from another of Mantle’s students named I Made Bandem who is now my Balinese uncle. Why? Because I married his niece! So, on behalf of the Hood family, thank you for celebrating the centenary of Mantle Hood with us. I would like to invite my wife Koming, my mother Hazel and my two daughters Mahea and Maile up on stage to dedicate Balinese offerings and a dance to mark this centennial. I can think of no better way than to express our love for Mantle than to make music and dance for you today. In Balinese belief, anniversaries are occasions to remember ancestors as protective family spirits and the teachings they have left behind because it is those teachings that provide our foundation to create and negotiate our own futures. References Hood, M. (1960). The challenge of “bi-musicality”. Ethnomusicology, 4(2), 55-59. Hood, M. (1971). The ethnomusicologist. Ohio: Kent State University Press. Titon, J. T. (1995). Bi-musicality as metaphor. Journal of American Folklore, 108(429), 287-297. Nelson, R. (June 19, 1958). Dr. Charles Fahs, Director of the Humanities Division of the Rockefeller Foundation’. [Correspondence letter]. UCLA Ethnomusicology Archives. xxvii ARTICLES PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA FROM KUDA LUMPING TO INDONESIAN POP: AUSTRALIAN CROSS-CULTURAL AND CROSS-BORDER ‘ENGAGEMENT’ WITH INDONESIA THROUGH MUSIC AND DANCE PRESENTATIONS AND RE-IMAGININGS Aline Scott-Maxwell Monash University, Australia Musical and other performances have long formed a significant part of cross-border and cross-cultural engagement between Australia and Indonesia, fostered by Australia’s geographical location as Indonesia’s immediate neighbour.1 Such forms of engagement, including between Australia and Asia more broadly, have become much more diverse and complex in recent decades through the mobilities and cultural flows arising from globalisation and the many changes taking place in Asia itself, with Indonesia being no exception. Australia today is a highly multicultural and visibly Asianising country. According to the 2016 Australian census, the majority of Australia’s large overseas-born population (itself comprising 26.3% of Australia’s total population) is now from Asia and 10.3% of all Australians were born in an ‘Asian’ country. This paper considers three examples that are drawn from my broader research into Indonesianinflected music and performance in contemporary Australia. They show how the present-day Australian cultural and demographic environment enables highly divergent, or diffuse, types of cross-border and crosscultural musical engagement with Indonesia. The examples also serve to problematise the idea of engagement itself. This term is used widely and often rather loosely; as Ang et al. (2011) point out: “”Engagement” is a problematic term…because no one knows exactly what it means” (p. 2). It is also often applied in ways that place a value on engagement as a ‘virtuous activity’ (James, 2016) or on particular types of engagement above others (for example in Mitchell & Teychenné, 2018). In this paper, however, ‘engagement’ simply denotes some form and degree of cross-cultural or cross-border connection made through music or performance—whether by its producers, audience or both, whether it involves a reciprocal connection or not and whether it is more ‘imagined’ than ‘real’. The three examples discussed are, firstly, two contrasting but interconnected curated projects created for mainstream Australian arts festivals. Together, these projects trace a journey from Indonesia to Australia of the Javanese traditional performance form of kuda lumping and its two very different realisations, or transformations, within a mediated, contemporary arts-festival environment. They illustrate how ‘engagement’ with Indonesia through performance is filtered or ‘translated’ for Australian audiences. The other example is an annual concert of Indonesian pop and rock held in Melbourne called Soundsekerta. Presented by and for a local Indonesian diaspora sub-group comprising international students from Indonesia, it raises the question of whether in fact any form of cross-cultural or cross-border engagement is involved. These three examples occupy entirely different spheres of music and performance activity, being presented variously as either a traditional form, contemporary ‘art’ or popular music and involving differing types of producer and audience. They also differ in the degree to which their ‘Indonesian’ content is mediated. In all three cases, however, cross-cultural or cross-border engagement—or connections—through music or performance arguably occur just as much in the process as in the outcome, including through the two-way ‘pathways’ between Australia and Indonesia that are created as part of this process. ‘Translating’ and Re-Imagining Kuda Lumping for an Australian Audience Kuda lumping, also known in different regions of Java and beyond as jaranan, jaran kepang, jathilan, kuda kepang, or reog amongst other names, is a traditional Javanese ‘folk’ (or non-court) performance genre that involves dance with bamboo hobby horses, gamelan music, trance and acts of ‘superhuman’ endurance (such as eating glass or dancing on hot coals).2 In August 2015, a kuda lumping troupe from Batu (near Malang) in East Java called Padepokan Gunung Ukir, led by Ki Iswandi, was invited to Melbourne to perform in the Melbourne Arts Centre, Melbourne’s principal concert hall and theatre precinct, as part of a ‘festival of the ecstatic’ called Supersense. Over two years later, in February 2017, a newly-created, award-winning contemporary dance piece called Attractor that was directly inspired by the earlier kuda lumping performance was premiered in the same venue. Besides the East Javanese performers themselves, there were three key artists, collaborators and mediators involved in both kuda lumping-related projects: Gideon Obarzarnek and Indonesian musicians, Rully Shabara and Wukir Suryadi. Gideon Obarzarnek is an acclaimed Australian contemporary dance 1 ALINE SCOTT-MAXWELL choreographer who was ‘artistic director’ of the 2015 kuda lumping performance and co-choreographer and director of the 2017 Attractor dance work. Vocalist Rully Shabara and multi-instrumentalist and instrumentbuilder, Wukir Suryadi, perform together as Senyawa, a Yogyakarta-based punk and metal-influenced experimental music duo. Senyawa have frequently performed in Australia since their first visit in 2011 and are now also widely known in Europe, the United States and elsewhere. They collaborated with Gideon Obarzarnek in bringing kuda lumping to Melbourne. They chose the Gunung Ukir troupe for the Melbourne project and took Gideon to see them in Batu, where he witnessed his first kuda lumping performance.3 Rully and Wukir also served as cultural mediators and behind-the-scenes interpreters for the 2015 Melbourne production. And, as Senyawa, they provided live music for the Attractor dance performance that was based on Gideon’s experience of kuda lumping in both East Java and Melbourne. Like other traditional Javanese forms, kuda lumping is anchored in diverse aspects of Javanese culture from dance, music and history to (in this case) animist or mysticism-related beliefs, practices and rituals. How, therefore, could such a performance and its associated trance and other seemingly transgressive practices be taken out of this cultural context and presented in any sort of authentic or meaningful way in a venue designed for opera and ballet to a mostly non-Indonesia literate audience? Artistic director Gideon Obarzarnek had himself expressed concern about “taking something traditional out of its original setting” and presenting “some kind of religious or animistic ritual ceremony” (Obarzarnek, 2015). On seeing the performance in East Java, however, he had been relieved to discover that it was also a ‘spectacle’, or entertainment. Rather than trying to recreate its traditional environment or re-work its content in some way, he decided instead to “heighten…the ecstatic essence of it”4 “to find a means of showing the dance in a way that wasn’t exoticised…[and] shifting the environment to be a representation of the psychological change as they go into trance…” (Hawker, 2015). Obarzarnek’s artistic direction for the production involved three main elements: (1) bringing performers and audience together on the massive State Theatre stage in close proximity and in an informal setting where audience members were able to come and go or buy drinks at an on-stage bar, (2) creation of a semi-enclosed ‘almost neutral’ white space with a white floor and lowered white screens, and (3) programming the coloured lighting to respond to particular gamelan instruments, especially the drums, in order to try and represent, or ‘reinterpret’, the sound through the lighting (‘so you’d be able to see what the sounds looks like’). The performers were apparently happy with these interventions and with the whole notion of it as a “sensory collaboration” (Hawker, 2015). The resulting, relatively minimally-mediated performance unfolded with all the contingencies and extremes of such trance performances in Java—with no apparent compromises taken in presenting all its key traditional elements. As screens dropped to close off most of the vast cavernous vault of the State Theatre’s tiers of red plush seating, the confined intimate white space helped to create a highly focused and very ‘present’ and intense experience for a fully absorbed audience. OHS rules apparently did not preclude the burning of incense on a charcoal burner or presentation of offerings in the space.5 A long welcome by the troupe’s leader in Javanese that included prayers in Arabic did not defer in any way to the audience’s Englishspeaking needs. The gamelan, supplemented by an electronic keyboard (used for the campur sari songs that are commonly incorporated into present-day kuda lumping and many other traditional performance contexts in Java), was elevated on a platform, but the many female and male dancers as well as the pawang (shaman), Pak Iswandi, and his assistants were barely separated from the audience seated on the floor right around them. The shift from music foregrounding pesindhen vocalists and keyboard melodies or suling to the strident sound of the double-reed slompret signalled a transition from a dance to a trance environment. The constantly changing, sometimes pulsing coloured lights, synchronised with amplified drum strokes, accentuated the music’s intensification during the performance and, together with the pungent smell of incense and the cracking of whips to induce trance, created a profoundly multi-sensory effect. Trance events were numerous, seemingly spontaneous and random—and appeared very real to audience members who witnessed them up close and were even asked to unwrap and test razor blades that were subsequently chewed and eaten.6 Even gamelan players fell into trance with the gong player nearly knocking over the gong stand and stumbling over the drums and kenong, instruments dropping out without their entranced players, and a single remaining kethuk and heavily, beaten drum taking the music well beyond ‘norms’ of Javanese gamelan music. When the pawang, Pak Iswandi, suddenly brought the performance to a close, the screens rose, opening the space to ‘the real world’ of the State Theatre, and a ritual selamatan feast with a rice mountain was brought on to the stage for all performers and audience to share together. 2 FROM KUDA LUMPING TO INDONESIAN POP: AUSTRALIAN CROSS-CULTURAL AND CROSS-BORDER ‘ENGAGEMENT’ WITH INDONESIA THROUGH MUSIC AND DANCE PRESENTATIONS AND RE-IMAGININGS ‘Translated’ for its audience through semi-participatory and sensory although decontextualised immersion, published reviews and blog comments about the performance testify that the audience found it, on the whole, a mesmerising, challenging and ‘other world’-ly experience, for example: “This was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had the chance to witness, and I found myself absolutely hypnotised for the entirety of the performance” (Rew, 2015). Even for those in the audience I spoke to who were familiar with kuda lumping or other Indonesian trance dances, the performance was confrontingly ‘real’. ‘Attractor’ Dance Piece The contemporary dance work, Attractor, performed by the professional Queensland dance company, Dance North, and co-choreographed and directed by Gideo Obarzarnek and another acclaimed Australian choreographer, Lucy Guerin, was presented on the same closed off State Theatre stage, except that the audience sat on raked benches. With kuda lumping and Senyawa’s music as its starting points, it was promoted as ‘an ecstatic ritual for non-believers’ and described as ‘participatory’, among other things. The young, highly trained dancers moved rapidly around the performance space in choreographed swarms or quasi-ceremonial circles and other formations, using repetitive movements and seemingly improvised or random thrashing or jerking gestures, presumably intended to simulate the possessed ‘in trance’ body. At one point, twenty unrehearsed (though planted) members of the audience entered the space and became part of the performance, following instructions about where and how to move through earpieces, and representing in a semi-choreographed way the sometimes blurred boundaries between performer and audience and the participatory spontaneity that Gideon had witnessed in East Java. What appeared to me—at least when compared to its kuda lumping model—as the abstracted, rather superficial artifice of this choreography was in stark juxtaposition to the largely motionless but very powerful presence and visceral sounds of the two Indonesian musicians. Rully Shabara’s loudly amplified extended vocal effects, including groans, breathy mostly unpitched guttural and glottal sounds, screaming and squealing, together with Wukir Suryadi’s unorthodox striking techniques on his home-made electric guitar or his bowed or plucked home-made electricified bamboo tube-zither (with tuning-pegs), were overlaid with deep pulsing electronics.7 These combined sounds and effects somehow responded to the perceived ‘other world’-ness of kuda lumping, but in a contemporised and transformative rather than imitative way. Occasional snatches of vernacular text or wayang-like chant and the distinct pelog tones of a briefly-heard Javanese suling provided sporadic explicit connections to a more traditional Indonesia. There was some (choreographed) interactivity between musicians and dancers as they responded respectively to sounds or movements, but the two musicians stood or sat in the centre of the dancers throughout except at one point when they were picked up by the dancers and carried around as they continued to sing or play. Stripped of its specific Javanese aesthetic, cultural and spiritual meanings, Attractor re-packaged or ‘translated’ kuda lumping as a generalised and rather essentialised trance and ritual-like event that, in the case of the dance, carried no Indonesia-specific references at all, representing the ‘other’ without the ‘difference’. For Attractor’s music, however, Indonesian performers were placed at the work’s centre and, by contrast, presented an unmediated ‘contemporary’ version of Indonesia that was as compelling in its own way as the kuda lumping performance. For example, one reviewer wrote: Drawing on traditional music and folklore from the cultures of the Indonesian archipelago, [Senyawa] combine elements of punk, heavy metal, and avant garde musical performance into an absolutely exhilarating, impossible-to-predict performance that may have no other comparison in contemporary music. (Wunnan, 2017)8 Both the kuda lumping and the Attractor performances, especially Senyawa’s music, created possibilities for audience engagement with either a perceived ‘traditional’ Indonesia or ‘contemporary’ Indonesia, whether through types of participation or semi-participation, sensory immersion, or juxtapositions of Indonesian and non-Indonesian elements. Yet neither Attractor’s marketing promotion nor its reviews made explicit references to Indonesia except in relation to Senyawa, who wore the ‘cloak’ of ethnic authenticity (Weiss, 2008, p. 218). Much more significant in relation to Australian engagement with Indonesia through these performances was that both were strongly underpinned and driven by a cross-cultural and cross-border collaborative process. This process involved the personal engagement of Gideon Obarzarnek with Indonesia 3 ALINE SCOTT-MAXWELL (see Mitchell, 2018), including through his discovery and experience of kuda lumping, the Senyawa musicians’ personal and creative engagement with Australia through their frequent visits, performances and local creative network, and the three artists’ intense and shared collaborative experience of staging kuda lumping and especially of creating Attractor. As noted in one newspaper report: Javanese duo Senyawa are not just central to the stage and the performance. Their work was the inspiration for the entire piece, and they were full creative partners in the development of the choreography. (Hawker, 2015) Transplanting an Indonesia Pop Culture World into Melbourne The third example discussed here shifts the paper’s focus from a cross-cultural scenario within a mainstream Australian arts environment to a context that is entirely and starkly ‘cross-border’, that is, the pop music world of a distinctly demarcated Indonesian diaspora sub-group in Australia. Every year since 2007, international students from Indonesia who are studying at my university, Monash University (Melbourne), have organised a large concert of Indonesian pop and rock called Soundsekerta.9 The concert, together with the broader social and pop culture scene of which it is a part, illustrates various notable aspects of this international student community, who together with international students from other parts of Asia comprise a numerically very large transient diaspora grouping in Australia.10 Features of this community include: (1) the students’ highly concentrated geographical presence in the central city and a few suburban locations where they study and live, (2) the types of social groupings, organisations and networks they form,11 which consist almost exclusively of fellow international students from their own country (described by Gomes (2017) as ‘parallel societies’), (3) their highly limited and mostly superficial engagement with Australian society and culture (as well as with the local Indonesian-Australian migrant community) and (4) their strongly transnational lives expressed through their social media networks and their consumption or production of music and other forms of pop culture, among other things (as also discussed in Scott-Maxwell, 2008). The annual Soundsekerta concert is project managed and produced entirely by a team of students, who raise a very substantial budget from sponsors, fund-raising and ticketing, select the artists and market and manage the event.12 The centrepiece and main drawcard of Soundsekerta is a line-up of top Indonesian pop and rock acts who are invited to Melbourne especially for the concert. Artists who have performed in Soundsekerta in previous years include Sheila on 7 (2010 and 2014), Gigi, d’Masiv (2011), Dewa 19 (2013), Noah, Nidji (2015) and Project Pop (2017). Held in the 2000-seat capacity Melbourne Town Hall, the concerts attract an audience of up to 1500 people or more who are almost exclusively Indonesian and overwhelmingly international students. Soundsekerta brings students together because of a shared love of the pop and rock from their homeland. It is also driven by the status and meanings attached to celebrity pop. But the significance of the event lies in other things, including its social dimension: of students wanting to experience it together with their friends and of responding collectively to the musicians through swamping the area in front of the stage, waving, dancing and singing along as well as meeting and chatting to friends. Artists often actively collaborate musically with the student audience, who know many of the songs and lyrics. Also highly significant is the larger participatory process, which includes pre-event activities and competitions, such as song cover contests for student singers or bands, with their entries posted on YouTube, or a competition for a student band to open the concert. Part of this participatory process is the organising of the event itself, which creates an intense, shared bonding experience amongst each year’s new committee due to the close team- work demanded by the responsibility of managing such a large-scale event (alongside their studies) as well as the very tight time-frame and the consequent steep learning curve for team members. Within this time-frame the project team must, amongst many other things, find sponsors, make a long ‘shortlist’ of preferred artists, contact them regarding availability since many already have performing schedules bookedout well ahead, and negotiate discounted deals on their fees. Much of this involves intensive on-the-ground work in Jakarta during the mid-semester break.13 The case for discounted artists’ fees is made not just on the basis of the concert’s not-for-profit status but by invoking nationalist support for fellow citizens studying far away from home. In fact, the concert itself demonstrates a strongly projected diaspora-formed nationalism. This is not just evident in such things as the students’ celebration of and pride in their pop culture and singing of the national anthem or, sometimes, the 4 FROM KUDA LUMPING TO INDONESIAN POP: AUSTRALIAN CROSS-CULTURAL AND CROSS-BORDER ‘ENGAGEMENT’ WITH INDONESIA THROUGH MUSIC AND DANCE PRESENTATIONS AND RE-IMAGININGS inclusion of other national songs by the featured artists but, notably in 2017, in the concert’s theme of Harmony in Diversity. For example, Facebook promotion for the 2017 concert included the following: Funny thing about people is that it takes many differences to split them apart, but it only takes one thing in common to unite them. No matter what your race, skin tone or religion is, we all belong to one nation with one purpose in mind: better future for our beloved country. (20 August, 2017) In emphasising that music was a unifier across race, ethnicity, religion, gender and so on, the theme of ‘Harmony in Diversity’ was undoubtedly responding to recent political events in Jakarta and emerging ethnic and religious tensions there arising from blasphemy accusations against the previous Jakarta governor, Ahok, and his eventual controversial jailing—as well as no doubt the Indonesian national motto of ‘unity in diversity. Soundsekerta concerts are primarily an expression and affirmation of the students’ individual and collective Indonesian identities through their social experience of the event and their identification with Indonesian pop amongst other things. These meanings are created within and shared by organisers and participants alike and, without non-Indonesian Australians in the audience, the concerts require no mediation or ‘translation’. Soundsekerta concerts strongly demonstrate the transnational connections of the students and their engagement with Indonesia and, to some degree, its social and political issues rather than any overt engagement with Australia as such. Yet, it is transplanted into and takes place within an Australian ‘lifestyle’ setting and is enabled by its Australian context. And the students’ engagement with Indonesia is from their diaspora position within Australia. Conclusion Together, these three select and very varied examples demonstrate some of the diversity and complexity of how Indonesia is presented, mediated and contextualised through music and performance in contemporary Australia. The examples show how Australian ‘engagement’ with Indonesia through performance presents in filtered or disguised ways. In Australia, proximity to Indonesia and specificities of diaspora together create a unique scenario for cross-cultural and cross-border musical engagement with Indonesia—especially in a transient diaspora context where, arguably, the cultural and social borders between Australia and Indonesia are found within Australia itself. The paper has also tried to highlight the particular significance of process and of the pathways between Australia and Indonesia that these processes can create or reinforce, including through extended collaboration. But even in the absence of clearly demonstrated forms of cross-cultural or cross-border connection, or engagement, each of the performances or concert events considered here created in their own way a space for Indonesia in Australia and, I suggest, for Australia in Indonesia. Endnotes 1 See Scott-Maxwell (2015). See Macknight (1976) regarding pre-white settlement encounters between Yolgnu Aborigines and visiting trepang fishermen from Makassar. 2 Amongst the extensive literature on this genre, recent studies include Mauricio (2002), Simatupang (2002), Browne (2003), Groenendael (2008), and Hardwick (2014). 3 The Gunung Ukir troupe was sourced through Wukir’s connections in Malang, where he comes from (W. Suryadi, personal communication, 14 February, 2018). 4 From printed promotional material for the Supersense festival. 5 I was unable to ascertain whether the offerings included a live black chicken, which in Javanese performances is usually tied under the offerings table. 6 Issues pertaining to trance as such or its genuineness are not relevant to how it was received in the Melbourne performance. 7 Wukir calls his home-made instruments, ‘spatula’and ‘bambuwukir’, respectively (personal communication, 14 February, 2018). 8 This review is of a later performance from the production’s United States tour. 9 The concert takes its name from Sansekerta, the Indonesian word for Sanskrit. 10 Australia is the overseas country of choice for Indonesian undergraduate students. In 2017, there were over 20,000 education enrolments from Indonesia, of which nearly 10,000 were in Australian universities or other 5 ALINE SCOTT-MAXWELL higher education institutions (Australian Embassy, Indonesia, 2017). The overall number of international student enrolments in Australia was nearly 600,000. 11 These organisations include local university branches of the Indonesian Student Association in Australia: Perhimpunan Pelajar Indonesia Australia (PPIA). 12 In 2016, the Soundsekerta budget was A$75,000 (personal communication, Jessen Tjandra, 6 September, 2016). 13 Personal communications: Jessen Tjandra, 6 September, 2016, and 25 October, 2016, and Christian Parera, 8 November, 2017. References Ang, I. et al. (2011). What is the art of engagement? In E. Lally, I. Ang & K. Anderson (Eds.), The art of engagement: Culture, collaboration, innovation. Crawley, W.A.: UWA Publishing. Australian Embassy, Indonesia. (2017). More Indonesian students studying in Australia. Retrieved from https://indonesia.embassy.gov.au/jakt/MR17_059.html Browne, K.O. (2003). Awareness, emptiness, and Javanese selves: Jatilan performance in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. The Asia Pacific Journal of Anthropology, 4(1-2), 54-71. Gomes, C. (2017). Transient mobility and middle class identity: Media and migration in Australia and Singapore. Singapore: Palgrave Macmillan. Groenendael, M. C. V. van. (2008). The horse dance and trance in East Java. Leiden: KITLV Press. Hardwick, P. A. (2014). Horsing around Melayu: Kuda kepang, Islamic piety, and identity politics at play in Singapore’s Malay community. Journal of the Malaysian Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 87(306), 1-19. Hawker, P. (2015). Tradition meets collaboration in ritual of trance and dance at Supersense Festival. Sydney Morning Herald. Retrieved from https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/dance/tradition-meetscollaboration-in-ritual-of-trance-and-dance-at-supersense-festival-20150727-gildui.html James, P. (2016). Engaged research. Retrieved from https://www.westernsydney.edu.au/__data/assets/ pdf_file/0009/1149876/Engaged_Research.pdf Macknight, C. C. (1976). The voyage to Marege: Macassan trepangers in Northern Australia. Carlton, Victoria: Melbourne University Press. Mauricio, D. (2002). Jaranan in East Java: An ancient tradition in modern times (M.A. thesis). University of Hawaii, Hawaii. Retrieved from https://scholarspace.manoa.hawaii.edu/bitstream/10125/7082/ 2/uhm_ma_3041_r.pdf Mitchell, J. & Teychenné, L. (2018). Beyond cultural diplomacy: The artistic nuance in Australia-Indonesia relations. In T. Lindsey & D. McRae (Eds.), Indonesia and Australia in the Asian century (pp. 323344). Oxford: Hart Publishing. Retrieved from http://dx.doi.org/10.5040/9781509918195.ch-017 Obarzarnek, G. (2015). Kuda Lumping: Ritual Trance from Indonesia [radio interview podcast]. Retrieved from http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/booksandarts/kuda-lumping3a-ritual-trance-fro m-indonesia/6671866 Rew, K. (2015). Arts festival review: Supersense Festival - Arts Centre, Melbourne (7th to 9th August 2015). The AU Review. Retrieved from http://www.theaureview.com/arts/reviews/supersense-festival-artscentre-melbourne-7-9-august-2015 Scott-Maxwell, A. (2008). Making music to feel at home: The Indonesian student music scene in Melbourne. In D. Bendrups (Ed.), Music on the edge: Selected papers from the 2007 IASPM Australia/New Zealand Conference, Dunedin (pp. 149-154). Dunedin: IASPM Australia/New Zealand. Scott-Maxwell, A. (2015). Representing Indonesia in Australia through performance: Communities, collaborations, identities. In B. Hatley & B. Hough (Eds.), Performing contemporary Indonesia: CelebratingiIdentity, constructing community (pp. 182-202). Leiden: Brill. Simatupang, G. R. L. (2002). Play and display: An ethnographic study of Reyog Ponorogo, in East Java, Indonesia (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Sydney, Australia. Weiss, S. (2008). Permeable boundaries: Hybridity, music, and the reception of Robert Wilson’s “I LaGaligo”. Ethnomusicology, 52(2), 203-238. Wunnan, N. (2017). At White Bird, ‘Attractor’ is magnetic. Oregon Arts Watch. Retrieved from http:// www.orartswatch.org/at-white-bird-attractor-is-magnetic/ 6 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA FROM SUNDA TO BANYUWANGI ACROSS CAMPURSARI, HIP-HOP AND GAMELAN: CROSSING GEOGRAPHICAL AND MUSICAL BORDERS ON THE CENTRAL JAVANESE WAYANG KULIT STAGE Ilaria Meloni La Sapienza Università di Roma, Italy This paper discusses some important changes and new tendencies affecting the Central Javanese shadow puppet theatre (wayang kulit) in recent days. The wayang kulit has undergone continuous transformations across the centuries and, still now, external influences determine interesting modifications in its performance practice and music repertoire. This art has always been open to new suggestions and impulses from outside, meaning both “outside the tradition” and “outside the geographical area”, in this specific case the courtly center of Yogyakarta. In fact, despite courtly centres it can be considered the core of the tradition (Sutton, 1991). In the last decade, the processes of transformation have considerably accelerated, and they are heading to new directions. The openness to contemporary hybrid musical genres and diverse musical traditions are a leading thread to follow in the analysis of the new audience fruition and the response of the society to the performing arts: The traditional musical culture of the islands is rich and diversified, with each of the major ethnic or regional groups developing one or more distinctive genres. And the arts have reflected historical change. Artistic activity proved to be a major means of facilitating the assimilation of external cultures into the mainstream of tradition. Forms of cultural expression maintained their vitality by assuming new roles and functions, hence providing a framework for continuity in a changing society. Borrowing, adaptation, and transmission of cultural elements between groups were always major forces in Indonesian artistic development, resulting in unique artistic forms – including music. (Lockard, 1998, p. 56) The Indonesian archipelago is rich in cultural diversity which is reflected in the arts. Looking at Java, there can be found a large variety of the so called “regional styles”, meaning local cultural and artistic peculiar traits in which the artists of some macro and micro-areas identify themselves, developing their own musical styles. Despite this, “regional styles” cannot be considered hermetic and sharply defined, since they share mutual exchanges and common roots between different areas, they are significantly relevant for the locals, to create their own identities or embodied communities (Hughes-Freeland, 2008). Some of these styles can be associated with the following areas: Yogyakarta, Surakarta, Banyumas, Semarang, Jawa Timur or East Java (a macro area including smaller areas), Banyuwangi and Sunda. Nowadays, more and more artists tend to mix these “regional styles” in order to create new spectacular expedients and to interface with the contemporary audience demand. Especially in Java and Bali, wayang kulit has become the main artistic medium (Lockard, 1998, p. 57) and, consequently, a huge container of different styles and a kaleidoscope of musical genres blended together in the body of the “tradition”, and that is the reason it can be analysed as a mirror of the historical and social changes. “Jaman Dulu” vs “Jaman Now” Strictly talking about Yogyanese wayang, many of my informants individuate two great periods called “jaman dulu” (“past time”) and “jaman now” (“current century”). The “jaman now” is a very recent reality but it can be rooted back in the ‘70s to the ‘90s, with the determinant advent of radio broadcasting and cassette recording. Especially from the post-independence period, also thanks to the charismatic impulse of great innovators such as Ki Narthosabdho (Petersen, 2001; Mrázek, 2005) and the impact of new media, the musical repertoire has undergone dramatic transformations affecting the specific Central Javanese or Yogyanese flavour and the classic karawitan style (Hood, 1988). Interviews conducted to senior sindhen (female singers), during my fieldwork, showed that, formerly, there was only a comic interlude in which classical pieces (as Kutut Manggung or Uler Kambang) were sung by one or two vocalists, who used to sit in the gamelan orchestra next to the male musicians. In the ‘70s, Narthosabdho created a second comic interlude and moved the female singers on stage, introducing many new genres, mostly taken from other local traditions like Banyumas, Semarang, and East Java, taking inspirations from rural arts like lénggér, tayub, ngremo. 7 ILARIA MELONI Nowadays, this openness and fusion between musical genres and regional styles seems to be determinant in the majority of wayang kulit performances, not only in Yogyakarta. The means of this crossover are the voice of the sindhen and the creativity of innovative puppeteers and karawitan groups which try to please the audience demand and keep the interest of the young generations alive through new solutions in which tradition meets the contemporaneity. Comic interludes are becoming more and more a wide, open access for innovations. According to my fieldwork experience, both as researcher and foreign sindhen in practice, I could notice, on contemporary Yogyanese wayang stage, a taste for some particular regional flavours and musical genres. Amongst others already quite established (as the “Banyumasan”) there are some rather new, like the “Banyuwangen”. Two songs are very often required of the sindhen during comic interludes (and they are usually performed standing up and doing joget-hinted dance moves): Sambel Kemangi and Gelang Alit. Notwithstanding, the “Banyuwangen” doesn’t necessarily refer to the original repertoire of the Banyuwangi tradition, on the contrary, it consists in a borrowing of some traits of Banyuwangi vocal style, blended in campursari or Pop or Rock arrangements. There is also the so called dangdut “Banywangen” by the superstar Nella Kharisma, a genre which seems to be largely appreciated both by the artists and the audience, especially since the dangdut genre has become the most popular music in Indonesia (Weintraub, 2010). Sunda, Gamelan and Hip-Hop: The Case of Bajing Loncat Besides the Banyuwangen hits, a peculiar piece, entitled Bajing Loncat, seems to be highly required on the Yogyanese wayang stage during comic interludes (I encountered this piece almost every night when I was researching and performing in Yogyakarta, during my 2017-2018 fieldwork). The first time I listened to this piece was on the 2nd of August 2016, during a wayang kulit by the famous Yogyanese dalang Ki Gondo Suharno (Pak Harno). During the comic interlude (Figure 1), Pak Harno took his set of golek (tri-dimensional rod-puppets typical from Sunda, [Weintraub, 2004]) and asked Natalia, one of the most talented singers of the gamelan group, Canda Nada (who often collaborates with him), to sing a Sundanese piece. Pak Harno introduced the piece as following: “A joget [dancing] piece, Bajing Loncat, in the Sundanese style, re-arranged in slendro tuning and turned into a Hip-Hop version by our friends from Satria Laras [gamelan] group” (Ki Gondo Suharno, August 2, 2016). Right after this introduction, the Central Javanese gamelan in slendro tuning played a brief introduction consisting of an ascendant note progression from low 1 to 5. Then the gender gave the incipit to the singer who started singing the first verse: “Bajing Loncat, Bajing Loncat ka astana, aduh, aduh, ieu.” The impact given by the incipit of the song was not only given by Natalia’s excellent voice quality but also by the juxtaposition of the pelog degung scale (sung by her) and the slendro scale (played by the gamelan). The contrast became stronger when, after the first verse, constituted by an alternation of the singer’s cengkok (melodic patterns) and the gamelan arpeggios in slendro, the two scalar systems overlapped, with Natalia’s voice resonating over the gamelan heterophony. After the exposition of the Bajing Loncat theme in the classical version (even if always slightly different in the singer’s voice elaboration) a change happened: the gamelan played a series of repeated notes on the slendro pitch 2, in ostinato, ending in a sudden stop and a signal with the drums. At this point, the sindhen and gerong (male vocalists) choir entered repeating the Bajing Loncat main verse, spelling it in a syllabic rapped style, instead of the melismatic solo Sundanese female voice, and fusing the two diverse laras (modal systems) of pelog degung and slendro, in a diatonic Western-like scale. This piece appeared as a perfect example of the new musical tendencies of the contemporary wayang stage: a mixture of different “regional styles” (meaning both different repertoires, vocal techniques and tuning systems), musical genres (from Central Javanese gamelan, to Sundanese folk music to modern global genres like Hip-Hop) and performance embodiments (I refer to the different gestures and attitude of the female singers, which is rather gendered and standardized in the traditional performing arts). 8 FROM SUNDA TO BANYUWANGI ACROSS CAMPURSARI, HIP-HOP AND GAMELAN: CROSSING GEOGRAPHICAL AND MUSICAL BORDERS ON THE CENTRAL JAVANESE WAYANG KULIT STAGE Figure 1. Pak Harno with his Sundanese golek rod-puppet during the comic interlude. (Photo by the author) Bajing Loncat (“Flying Squirrell”) is a Sundanese folksong or lagu daerah. It was composed by the famous Sundanese Pop singer Kosman Djaja and made in several versions from Pop to jaipongan (the Sundanese modern dance, evolved from the ancient practices of ronggeng and ketutk tilu, now disappeared (Spiller, 2010). Amongst other versions, there is the one sung by the famous Sundanese singer Upit Sarimanah, published by the MTR Records (available on the YouTube). This song has been re-arranged by Satria Laras, a gamelan group collaborating with the superstar dalang, recently passed away, Ki Enthus Susmono, considered as an innovator and taken as an example by many puppeteers all across the Javanese island. Ki Enthus was the regent or bupati of Tegal, a crossroad area on the Northern coast, between Sunda and Central Java. One of his peculiarities as innovator was the crossbreeding of “regional styles”, especially from Sunda, Banyumas, Semarang, Central Java, Banyuwangi and also Bali. He used a mixed ensemble, united with musicians and sindhen coming from different areas. On the 4th of July 2018, I had the opportunity to interview Mas Agung Pengging, the leader of Satrio Laras group and the one who arranged this piece. He joined Satrio Laras group in 2006 and he soon became the leader. He revealed that in Ki Enthus group, everybody, even the dalang himself, participated to the arrangement and to the creation of new repertoires, used both for the narration and for the comic interludes. Mas Agung said that he used to suggest some compositions or arrangements, while the other members participate in the music composition in an extemporary way, rarely using notation, under Ki Enthus supervision and coordination. As in the case of Bajing Loncat, a musician from Sunda was specifically appointed to find a good Sundanese song (Mas Agung specified that the musicians choosing the lagu daerah are always locals so they are more expert). Also, many inspirations are taken from the Sundanese repertoire because of the geographical position of Tegal (Figure 2). Mas Agung made the arrangement of the Sundanese piece and Ki Enthus suggested to add the Hip-Hop part, because of the trends of “jaman now”, strictly connected with the idea of modernity and globalization. The instrumental accompaniment was moved from pelog to slendro to be played on the Central Javanese gamelan, yet maintaining the Sundanese scale for the vocal part. Further, the rhythm was modified to introduce the Hip-Hop section. The piece received a very positive response from the audience and, as a consequence, it was adopted by many other gamelan groups, as well as other Satrio Laras pieces. Figure 2. Bajing Loncat geographical “border crossing”. 9 ILARIA MELONI Therefore, from Tegal, this piece spread out and was adopted by many puppeteers, mostly in Banyumas, Semarang, Yogyakarta, Surakarta and East Java (especially in Surabaya, where there is the massive fan community of Ki Enthus). Ki Enthus has many fans, admirers and emulators all across Java, he has become an icon and an inspiration and his iringan (wayang musical accompaniment) is considered the most catchy and effective on the audience, compared to other wayang groups. This is a fundamental requirement for contemporary puppeteers and gamelan groups: satisfying the demand of the audience of “jaman now”, that means heading toward a musical hybridity (both on a synchronic and a diachronic axis) and a constant update of the social contents communicated by the wayang media. Crossing Borders: Gender Fluidity and “Trans-Regionalism” This genre fluidity and cross-cultural or transcultural musical taste have become an essential aspect of the contemporary wayang kulit, and also in the more conservative wayang traditions like the Yogyanese one. The “campuran” (“mixture”) between regional styles and genres is something existing for a long time, but only very recently is having a fast acceleration and it is pushing beyond certain “borders”, specifically:   Farther areas from Central Java, like Sunda and Banyuwangi. Musical genres generating a huge gap with the classical karawitan, like Rock and Hip-Hop, involving new instrumentation beside gamelan (like Rock bands, keyboards and synthesizers). While great parts of the former innovations (both in music and dramaturgy) could be considered to some extent innovations within the tradition, the new directions seem to totally cross both local and traditional borders to create a pan-Javanese or “trans-regional” musical product (even the figure of the sindhen is a sign of this tendency), which is representative of the “unity in diversity” more than the singular territorial specificities. Explaining the taste for “regional styles”, Mas Pengging pointed to the nationalist idea of taking pieces of cultures to create a unified tradition, in which different regional elements are blended together. In another famous Satrio Laras piece (also inspired by Sundanese music) entitled Renggong Buyut, this aspect is underlined in the lyrics: “It talks about Satrio Laras nationalism. Satrio Laras strength is the synergy between artists who are compatriots. Through the culture we express our belonging to one nation, Indonesia” (Mas Agung Pengging, July 4, 2018). The unified Javanese regionalism or “trans-regionalism” can be seen as a symbol of an imagined community which reflects the unified Indonesia, thence, on a higher level, a symbol of nationalism (Anderson, 2006), and the modernity of this community is symbolized by the musical choice. A stanza of Renggong Buyut song perfectly expresses this concept: Negara aman Sentosa Dengan talatah nan luhur Pancasila Dan Bhinneka Tunggal ika Pemersatu karagaman nusantara NKRI harga mati Itulah prinsip abadi Undang empat lima landasan Peraturan perundangan Indonesia. A safe country With the high message of Pancasila And Unity in Diversity Unified diversity of the archipelago (Negara Kesatuan Republik Indonesia) Republic of Indonesia, united nation That is the immortal principle References Anderson, B. (2006), Imagined communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism. London, UK: Verso. Hood, M. (1988). The evolution of Javanese gamelan. Book III: Paragon of the roaring sea. New York, NY: Heinrichshofen. Hughes-Freeland, A. (2008). Embodied communities, dance traditions and change in Java. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Lagu2 Kasohor H. Upit Sarimanah - Lembur Kuring. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watc h?v=NvURTpG4_tE 10 FROM SUNDA TO BANYUWANGI ACROSS CAMPURSARI, HIP-HOP AND GAMELAN: CROSSING GEOGRAPHICAL AND MUSICAL BORDERS ON THE CENTRAL JAVANESE WAYANG KULIT STAGE Lockard, C. A. (1998). Dance of life: Popular music and politics in Southeast Asia. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawaii Press. Mrázek, J. (2005). Phenomenology of a puppet theatre. Leiden: KITLV Press. Petersen, R. (2000). Lakon karangan: The legacy of Ki Narthosabdho in Banyumas, Central Java. Asian Theatre Journal, 18(1), 105-112. Spiller, H. (2010) Erotic triangles: Sundanese dance and masculinity in West Java. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Sutton, R. A. (1991). Traditions of gamelan music in Java: Musical pluralism and regional identity, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Weintraub, A. (2004). Power plays: Wayang golek puppet theatre in West Java. Athens, OH: Ohio University Press. 11 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA GLOBALIZING FILIPINO SONGS, BODIES AND SOUNDS BEYOND HOMELAND Ricardo D. Trimillos University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, USA FOR FULL ARTICLE SEE PUBLISHED PROCEEDINGS 12 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA LOOKING FOR “HOME”: CULTURAL IDENTITY IN THE TRADITIONAL MUSICS OF LOMBOK David D. Harnish University of San Diego, USA Introduction Most of my research on music culture on Lombok since the 1980s has predicted the gradual decline and even the disappearance of many older styles of arts embedded in adat (localized socio-religious law and practices) and performed for adat ceremonies and events.1 Through 2013, this gloomy trajectory seemed confirmed. A few styles of music, for instance the instrumental ensemble known as kamput and the vocal/instrumental ensemble cepung, had vanished from the landscape. Field research in 2017, however, suggests something else. While most people confirmed that some arts styles were “punah” (extinct), other forms had been reintroduced in schools or were sustained by modern study groups dedicated to the understanding and preservation of adat. In most places of Indonesia—Java, Bali, and Lombok in particular—are multiple forms of religion. Java and Lombok, for instance, maintains what I will call both adat Islam, that is, the maintenance of deeply rooted practices related to rice cultivation, the landscape, life-cycle rites, kinship, pre-Islamic spirits, rulers and religious founders; and agama (legitimized world religion) Islam, following the five pillars of Islam and Islamic jurisprudence without the impurities of adat (see Hefner 1999 for explication). This is similar to Budiwanti’s (2000) distinction between “local” and “universal” forms of Islam. Generally, these islands have seen the steady ascent of agama and the decline of adat. I frequently wrote about such developments on Lombok and how performing arts within adat events were becoming increasingly scarce as citizens were compelled—by religious leaders, globalization, education, and urbanization—to embrace modernist Islam. So, what did it mean when modernist Muslims, most of them Hajjis, were studying adat and promoting performing arts? The development seemed to challenge the theory of adat’s gradual deterioration. Part of the answer here lies in a reconsideration of history. Whereas formerly it was acknowledged inside and outside the government that early Sasak society was Hindu or Buddhist (in addition to following adat), the emerging notion is that they were Muslim from the very beginning, practicing an early form of the religion that was inextricably bound up with ethnic identity. And, I believe that what many people desire on Lombok—and perhaps on Bali and Java as well—is a clear sense of cultural identity, knowing who they are, where they came from, and what they stand for. In recent trips to Lombok and Bali, I find clearly this yearning for identity—to be looking for home. In addition to groups newly studying adat on Lombok, a number of forces have worked to get performing arts back into schools, and new educational initiatives suggest a possible lasting impact and endeavor of arts sustainability. Background Issues To the west of Lombok is Hindu Bali; to the east is Sumbawa. Lombok, inhabited primarily by the Muslim Sasak, is part of the province of Nusa Tenggara Barat. Religion is the focus of identity and the reason is historical. Lombok was colonized by Hindu Balinese for 200 years until the late 19th century (Hägerdal, 2001). As I have argued elsewhere (see 2011), being ruled over by a non-Muslim people gave rise to Islam on Lombok as a bulwark of Sasak pride, resistance, and identity; populist religious leaders still invoke this external control by non-Muslims as a strategy for local control. Muslim leaders have uniquely found success in government on Lombok since Indonesian Independence following WWII. Clergy have won wide-ranging appointments in government offices; in many cases, Hajjis and influential, charismatic religious leaders, Tuan Guru, are prioritized for posts (see Kingsley for more on Tuan Guru). Expertise in religion is considered qualification for government. The governor of the province—Tuan Guru Hajji Bajang—is a major religious leader and grandson of the influential Muslim leader, Tuan Guru Hajji Zainuddin Abdul Majid. Tuan Guru Bajang has had tremendous political capital, based upon his religious capital, and he enacted a number of unfriendly arts policies, such as forbidding local Balinese performing arts at state events, restricting Sasak arts at these events, and prioritizing Arab-related arts such as sholowat praise songs. However, he is stepping down in 2018 due to term limits and he has now taken a moderate tone toward local culture, reportedly because he is hoping for a national post. This moderation might have played a role in the formation of adat study groups because local culture was no longer scrutinized for impurities. 13 DAVID D. HARNISH The provincial Department of Education and Culture, DEPDIKBUD, worked somewhat independently of the governor and had a different charge. They were tasked by the national government with digging up and developing the arts on Lombok for local consumption, touristic consumption, and often for the national stage. The officials worked to increase the quality of the arts and to aestheticize performances of select music forms. These projects decontextualized and secularized those arts, and attempted to make them as spectacular as possible and to both represent and modernize local identity. The goal was to maintain and transmit these forms to the next generation. I worked closely with the department over decades and was sponsored by the director, Sri Yaningsih. She and her staff selected those forms that “stuck out” and constituted apexes of local culture for further development, and these included the gendang beleq ensemble, the shadow play wayang Sasak, the social dance gandrung, and the musical theatre rudat (Harnish, 2007). Of these four, the music/dance ensemble gendang beleq quickly and dramatically flourished, moving from 12 known ensembles in 1983 to an estimated 6,500 ensembles today. Figure 1. Gendang beleq, Central Lombok, 1983. (Photo by D. Harnish) Figure 2. Gendang beleq, Lingsar, West Lombok, 2014. (Photo by D. Harnish) It is necessary to backtrack to understand how this could happen. The people following adat Islam were called Wetu Telu (three stages) and this group constituted a majority into the early 20th century, when Tuan Guru began to execute a shift in Sasak religious orientation from syncretic to orthodox. Most Sasak performing arts originate from the Wetu Telu and were used for a range of ritual events. A purported communist coup attempt in 1965 led to retaliation by government, Islamic and vigilante forces that killed about one million people in Indonesia, including tens of thousands Wetu Telu and Chinese Indonesians on Lombok (see Muller, 1991). Since it was assumed that communists could not have religion, the slaughter encouraged a strong turn toward agama and away from adat. Thus, many traditional arts were prohibited or restricted, particularly those that seemed similar to local Hindu Balinese arts, such as gamelan ensembles like gendang beleq because Sasak arts had to be distinct from Balinese arts. Lombok emerged scarred from this violence and arts 14 LOOKING FOR “HOME”: CULTURAL IDENTITY IN THE TRADITIONAL MUSICS OF LOMBOK and artists were scrutinized by political and religious leaders. Sri Yaningsih told me in 1988 that the 1970s were a dark time (jaman gelap) for the arts, and arts education was absent in schools. Lombok began to open up in the 1980s and part of the reason was Sri Yaningsih and her office, which provided troupes opportunities to perform and to receive grants for new musical instruments and new costumes, and sometimes workshops with government officials. From her point of view, the arts had to modernize—to be made more contemporary—in order to survive, prosper and to reach Sasak youth. The changes included new performance outfits, better staging, updated dance vocabulary, and sometimes re-tuned and more standardized instrumentation. One other development fell in line during the late 1980s. Tuan Guru, in association with government agencies, dropped their prohibitions against many styles of traditional music. Some had banned bronze gamelans (such as gendang beleq), believed to be related to ancestral worship; others disallowed wayang Sasak because it glorified meditative narratives, depicted human-like forms, was accompanied by drinking alcohol and maintained adat practices, such as using the water that cleans the puppets as medicine (see Harnish, 2003). By the 1990s, most Tuan Guru rescinded restrictions particularly against gendang beleq (see Harnish, 2016a). Coupled with the Education and Culture development of this form—increasing the number of musicians from about 7 to 20 or more, adding new instruments and choreography, accelerating the music, and featuring youth instead of older men—gendang beleq could become the icon of Lombok and Sasak ethnicity and proliferate dramatically. Gendang beleq and other traditional arts were then available in schools as extracurricular offerings. The recession of the late 1990s and then the granting of provincial autonomy undermined this progress as schools suddenly faced budget shortages and so slashed arts education, ending extracurricular music courses, and then Tuan Guru Bajang became governor in 2008, which advanced religious reformism and further negated adat Islam. Education and Adat In 2002, a man in West Java, Endo Suanda, established LPSN (Lembaga Pendidikan Seni Nusantara; Institute for Arts Education of the Archipelago) to maintain the arts in public schools. A Sasak teacher and arts advocate, Mochammad Yamin, worked with Suanda to open a branch on Lombok in 2005. The national organization was awarded a Ford Foundation grant and the office in Lombok received assistance from 200507. The branch on Lombok invited hundreds of teachers to come to the capital, Mataram, to train in and learn to teach the arts and produce such artefacts as masks (topeng) and gambus (lutes). The teachers were provided materials (booklets and video-compact disks) for presenting local and national arts in their classrooms and the participants were awarded certificates upon completing the training. Since 2007 (when the grant expired), this training has not been free, but has been provided for a nominal cost (see Harnish, 2016b). Over the past 4-5 years, civil and education leaders came forward to advocate for increased arts education in schools. Several offices—Education, the Arts Office, LPSN and Taman Budaya (Culture Centre)—launched the 80 Artists in 80 Schools project in 2017. As the title suggests 80 artists visited 80 schools and worked with thousands of elementary through high school students. This year the program is expanding, adding more artists and more students. When in 2017 I asked Lalu Surya, the head of the Arts Office in Education and Culture, he explained that maintaining the arts is essential to instil and sustain cultural identity, suggesting that the arts are the main vehicle to cultural identity. I had met H. Lalu Gus Fathurrahman (called Mamiq) a few times in past decades. I knew he was engaged in the arts as a painter and in deep studies of Islam; he also served as director of Taman Budaya and spent 11 years going around Lombok and learning about local adat. It was he who founded, along with other elite and intellectual Sasak, the adat study group, Lembaga Rowot Nusantara Lombok (Institute of Lombok’s archipelago star) four years ago; they shorten the title to Rowot Rontal. Mamiq copies and translates lontar and teaches old literature at University of Mataram; several members of Rowot Rontal teach at the university. Mamiq studied the traditional Sasak calendar called warige in older villages and encouraged their larger productions onto wood. Rowot Rontal produces a paper warige calendar and makes thousands of these available to communities throughout Lombok. Warige are similar to the Balinese pawukon calendar. It is 210 days long, specifies a series of different weeks, and indicates days for certain action, for instance days for life-cycle rites, for visiting friends, and so forth, except that it is built off of the star of Orion. Rowot Rontal meets weekly for discussions on adat, traditional literature and on the characters, ethics and morals in the shadow play wayang Sasak, based on the Menak cycle of tales featuring the uncle of Prophet Muhammad, 15 DAVID D. HARNISH Amir Hamza, who paves the way for Islam. Mamiq regularly visits the primary Wetu Telu center of Bayan village where, due to his adat studies he is considered a leader of ceremonies.2 Ki Ageng Sadarudin is another agent in the study of adat and supporter and musician of Sasak arts. He founded an organization called Lembaga Pengemban Budaya Adat Sasak (Institute for Caretaking Sasak Adat Culture) and is principal at an elementary school in Mataram, where arts education is readily available to students. Bpk Sadarudin has studied to be a dalang of wayang Sasak. Like Mamiq, he is a noted and respected Hajji and has studied traditional literature and is a proponent of the singing and translation of these texts in the music style called tembang Sasak or pepaosan. He organizes weekly meetings for discussions and rehearsals and performances of wayang Sasak, and assists in organizing pepaosan and seminars on the Jejawan script that is used on lontar for Menak cycle and other traditional literature. While I was in Lombok last year, we attended a wayang Sasak performance in Central Lombok by an old friend dalang, Ki Budiman. One other individual to mention in the movement toward adat and home is Haji Lalu Anggawa, the head of the PEPADI wayang organization in Lombok. He also formed his own adat study group, Lembaga Konsultasi dan Mediasi Budaya Adat Sasak (Sasak Cultural Adat Consulting and Mediation Institute) and is an Islamic authority with the power to issue fatwas if behavior in wayang is wrong. But, he is strongly against the Arabization of Sasak culture, which was spearheaded by religious leaders from the mid-20th century, and stated directly that if a Tuan Guru declares traditional music forbidden, he is mistaken, and that he and other Hajjis have dismantled the approach of developing “agama hilang adat” (agama without adat), which again was an initiative by Tuan Guru from the last century. Though there are others, the last organization to mention today is AMAN—Assosiasi Masyrakyat Adat Negeri—whose role is to guard adat and associated behaviours and musics, including arts used at wedding parties. Summary After fieldwork over decades on Lombok since 1983, I was very surprised to learn about the recent move toward adat by so many individuals and organizations because it seems to reverse the trajectory of discrediting adat, an effort that engaged so many Sasak leaders until a few years ago. In addition, some traditional performing arts functioning within adat could suddenly be studied and celebrated. It is important to add that not all older arts fall into this category of support. Several forms have indeed disappeared or are on the brink of doing so. In my opinion, those arts—mostly lesser-known ensemble traditions or rural theatre forms—were too “kampungan” (of the village, backward) or could not be reconciled into a conceived early Islamized adat. The adat study groups hold that early Sasak society was almost always Islamic and they are fascinated with those practices of Islam, which are no longer considered haram but rather point to early cultural identity, and, as mentioned earlier, many hajjis and intellectuals today are seeking a distinctive Islamic identity—non-Arabic and non-Javanese—but particular to Lombok and particular to the Sasak. The literary forms loved by these communities, especially wayang Sasak and pepaoasan, offer a rich lineage of this identity. In the meantime, educators and musicians have convinced a suddenly more willing provincial government that education in the arts is crucial for the success of Sasak youth, to equip them with a sense of identity, history, and culture to deal with an increasingly globalized future. A wide range of performing arts are entering and sometimes being taught in schools, from the ubiquitous gendang beleq to gambus lute to gamelan rebana, including the new project called 80 artists in 80 schools. And, it was Arts Office of Culture and Education that began the effort to modernize and sustain the arts. The overwhelming success of gendang beleq is part of that legacy. All of these developments are bound up in efforts to reconcile a past that was alternately dominated by Javanese or Balinese and then Arab-oriented, always suppressing Sasak voices. These voices and projects now circle back to Lombok itself, to home and to a history where many traditional musics and adat are central. Endnotes 1 This paper is dedicated to the people of Lombok, who endured a series of earthquakes, tremors, and aftershocks in July and August, 2018. At least 400 people have been confirmed dead and recovery will take many years. 2 Bayan, the focus of traditional arts and beliefs on Lombok, was very near the epicentre of some of the tremors and aftershocks in July and August, 2018. It is unclear at the time of this writing how many residents, 16 LOOKING FOR “HOME”: CULTURAL IDENTITY IN THE TRADITIONAL MUSICS OF LOMBOK cultural leaders, and artists were killed. Perhaps the majority of buildings and homes have collapsed or suffer extensive damage. References Budiwanti, E. (2000). Islam Sasak: Wetu telu versus waktu lima. Java: LKiS Yogyakarta. Hägerdal, Hans. (2001). Hindu rulers, Muslim subjects: Lombok and Bali in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Thailand: Hans Hägerdal. Harnish, D. (2016a). Gendang Beleq: The negotiation of a music/dance form in Lombok, Indonesia. In M. A. M. Nor & K. Stepputat (Eds.), Sounding the dance, moving the music: Maritime Southeast Asian performing arts in choreomusicological perspective (pp. 148-161). Oxon, UK and New York: Routledge. Harnish, D. (2016b). The challenges of music sustainability in Lombok, Indonesia. In A. McGraw & Sumarsam (Eds.), Performing Indonesia. Washington, WA: Freer Sackler. Retrieved from http:// www.asia.si.edu/research/performing-indonesia/article-harnish.php Harnish, D. (2011). Tensions between adat (custom) and agama (religion) in the music of Lombok. In D. D. Harnish & A. K. Rasmussen (Eds.), Divine inspiration: Music and Islam in Indonesia (pp. 80-108). New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Harnish, D. (2007). ‘Digging’ and ‘upgrading’: Government efforts to ‘develop’ music and dance in Lombok.” Asian Music, 38(1), 61-87. Harnish, D. (2003). Worlds of wayang Sasak: Music, performance, and negotiations with modernity. Asian Music, 34(2), 91-120. Hefner, R. (1999). Religion: Evolving pluralism. In D. K. Emmerson (Ed.), Indonesia beyond Suharto: Polity, economy, society transition (pp. 205-236). Armonk, N.: M. E. Sharpe. Kingsley, J. (2014). Redrawing lines of religious authority in Lombok, Indonesia. Asian Journal of Social Science, 42, 657-677. Muller, K. (1991). Wetu Telu: Mix of Islam and traditional adat practices. In K. Muller (Ed.), East of Bali: From Lombok to Timor (pp. 54-55). Berkeley-Singapore: Periplus Editions, Inc. 17 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA NOSTALGIA IN MOTION: TRANSITION AND TRANSFORMATION OF A JAPANESE ENKA SONG IN EAST AND SOUTHEAST ASIA Masaya Shishikura University of Tokyo, Japan Introduction This paper investigates a shifting sense of home from Japan to many different regions around Asia. As a case study, I examine the Japanese enka song, titled “The Spring in a Northern Land [Kitaguni no Haru],” that enjoyed international popularity in East and Southeast Asia. In a Japanese context, the song tells about nostalgia for home in a snowy northern land, while living in a city elsewhere. When changed to other places in Asia, the lyrics transform to tell about many different stories, such as nostalgia for a rainy hometown, a banyan tree on a roadside, or a former lover whom one will never see again. As the lyrics transform, the music is also modified to appeal to audiences of different regions. However, a sense of nostalgia is still preserved in these different versions of “The Spring in a Northern Land.” I argue that the wide dissemination of “The Spring in a Northern Land” is an example of a globalizing Asia, where people, commodification, and media are widely circulated and consumed. Concurrently, the shifting sense of home is a local contestation against the intrusive globalization, where many people struggle with rapid changes and a sense of displacement. In this paper, a sense of nostalgia is one of the issues to be explored. The term “nostalgia” can trace its origin to 1688; it was a word invented by Swiss doctor Johannes Hofer. He coined the term from two Greek words: nostos—“return home,” and algia—“longing.” Since then for about 200 years, nostalgia had been considered as a disease or a public epidemic. Interestingly, a new sense of nostalgia appeared in the modern age, from the mid-nineteenth century to the early twentieth century. The modern period provided an experience of happiness with advanced technologies and newly explored lands. Concurrently, the experience of modernity was unfamiliar; “modern society appeared as a foreign country, public life as emigration from the family idyll, urban existence as permanent exile” (Boym, 2001, p. 24). Also, it is difficult to escape from the impact of modernity that invades human life, activities, and emotions in multiple ways (Gaonkar, 2001). I find that this sense of modernity is relevant to the experience of people in a globalizing Asia. Especially, global flows of media invoke contradictory senses, such as unification, exclusion, trans-nationalism, localism, international cooperation, and nationalistic ideology (Erni & Chua, 2005; Iwabuchi, 2014). Rapid changes of lifestyle along with the constant movement of peoples, merchandises, and media in the region arouse a sense of displacement, even when one still remains at home. Here, I introduce a definition of nostalgia by Svetlana Boym, a scholar of Slavic and Comparative Literature, that is useful for this study. Nostalgia is paradoxical in the sense that longing can make us more empathetic toward fellow humans, yet the moment we try to repair longing with belonging, the apprehension of loss with a rediscovery of identity, we often part ways and put an end to mutual understanding. Algia – longing – is what we share, yet, nostos – the return home – is what divides us. (Boym, 2001, pp. xv-xvi) In this paper, I use this definition by Boym. The song “The Spring in a Northern Land” can appeal to different audiences because of the empathetic sense of nostalgia shared among people in a globalizing Asia. But, concurrently, I observe the local politics that contest the intrusiveness of globalization. Through technologies like radio, television, karaoke, and Internet, worldwide distribution of songs became feasible and apparent, yet performances and behaviour of music-making are often modified and transform into a local context (Mitsui & Hosokawa, 1998; Condry, 2006; Lie, 2015). “The Spring in a Northern Land” is no exception. The song is necessarily modified to appeal to a myriad of listeners, who are yearning for different homes. Below, I present my analyses of the song lyrics and music that demonstrate the ambivalence of a globalizing Asia. 18 NOSTALGIA IN MOTION: TRANSITION AND TRANSFORMATION OF A JAPANESE ENKA SONG IN EAST AND SOUTHEAST ASIA Figure 1. Image of “The Spring in a Northern Land” (Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGvECzTIlCw, 27 September 2018) Case Study: “The Spring in a Northern Land” It was 1977 when the original song “The Spring in a Northern Land” was first published, and the song achieved a great popularity in Japan from the late 70s to the early 80s. As mentioned, the lyrics convey nostalgia for a home in a snowy northern land, while living in a city somewhere.1 Silver birch trees, blue sky, southerly wind The hill filled with the kobushi flowers This is a northern land, ah, spring in a northern land In the city, you may not feel the seasons So saying, my mother sent me the small package Shall I return, shall I return to that home (The first verse, author’s translation) Musically, it is composed using an anhemitonic pentatonic scale, common to Japanese folk songs and also enka style songs. Instrumentally, it is marked in the score that the mandolin plays the introductory melody.2 Below is a transcription of a performance by the original singer, Sen Masao. Figure 2. Transcription of a performance by the original singer, Sen Masao (By the author) 19 MASAYA SHISHIKURA As mentioned, the song not only retained great popularity in Japan, but it also attracted many audiences in other regions of Asia. For instance, the legendary singer Teresa Teng covered the song both in Japanese and Chinese that was disseminated around Asia, including Taiwan, China, Hong Kong, Malaysia, and Singapore. Also, the technology of karaoke should be noted in the international distribution of songs in general. It was invented in Japan in the early 1970s, and soon spread to the rest of the countries around Asia (Mitsui & Hosokawa, 1998). The marketing of different versions of “The Spring in a Northern Land” corresponds to the promotion of the karaoke machine throughout Asia; different languages of karaoke of the song can be found on YouTube also. According to a non-fiction writer Suzuki Akira, more than 1.5 billion people in Asia have listened to, sung, and enjoyed “The Spring in a Northern Land” since it was published in the late 70s (cited in Koizumi et al., 1984, p. 108). In Hong Kong, the song also gained popularity from the late 70s. The Cantonese version of the song, titled “Gùxiāng de Yǔ (The Rain of My Home Town)” sung by Fanny Wang, was still heard on Temple Street in Hong Kong in the early 21st century.3 According to my informant, this version was also popular in Malaysia and Singapore (anonymous, email communication, December 22, 2017). Here are the lyrics: A letter from home containing words of care, a phrase of concern Makes me happy, filling my heart with warmth As though I am sitting in the sunshine of spring The letter mentions the swallows under the eaves in our house, taking me back home The letter mentions the rain of my hometown, each drop of rain describing my childhood Have I been missing the swallows and the rain of my hometown? (The first verse, translation by Kim Woo) As evident, the lyrics still maintain the sense of nostalgia for home while living in a city. The images of drops of rain and one’s childhood are superimposed, and show her/him to miss a rainy hometown. However, the home described in the lyrics is not in a snowy northern land; the lyrics were modified to tell about somewhere with swallows and some rain. Probably, in Hong Kong it would be difficult to imagine home in a northland. Musically, the sounds of the mandolin are replaced with the sound of the yangqin struck zither in the introduction melody. Also, the voice has a rather nasal quality and often includes a sort of ‘leaping’ like tone (disjunct motion) in the melodic line.4 In these changes, I observe the local politics against intrusive globalization. The second example is the song “Huáiniàn de Chūntiān (Springtime That I Miss)” a Taiwanese version of the song sung by Kerris Tsai. This version also maintains a sense of home, good memories of homeland in spring, and missing one’s parents. Although it still tells about countryside, there is no description of cold snowy home; again, it would be difficult to imagine a northland homeland in Taiwan. Lingering on my mind are memories of my homeland The greenness that filled the hillsides every spring There is still beautiful scenery across the countryside I remember as a child I would go fishing with my father Although that time has passed I still wish I could return, I could return to visit my father. (The first verse, translation by Kim Woo) It is distinctive that the music includes a lot of digital sounds created by the synthesizer. Just like “Gùxiāng de Yǔ,” the song also utilizes the sounds of the yangqin in the introduction melody. In contrast to the soft and gentle voice of the original singer of Sen Masao, the singer Kerris Tsai has a strong assertive voice and sings the melody with waving like glissando.5 The third example is another Taiwanese version of the song, titled “Róngshù Xià (Under a Banyan Tree)” sung by You Tian, but this version is written in the Mandarin language. Beyond Taiwan, this version of the song also retained popularity in Malaysia and Singapore, especially among Chinese communities there (anonymous, email communication, December 22, 2017). Now, the song is more like a love song expressing 20 NOSTALGIA IN MOTION: TRANSITION AND TRANSFORMATION OF A JAPANESE ENKA SONG IN EAST AND SOUTHEAST ASIA reminiscence of a past romance. Nevertheless, it still maintains a sense of nostalgia for someone/something far away, as Boym says: Nostalgia is a sentiment of loss and displacement, but it is also a romance with one’s own fantasy. Nostalgic love can only survive in a long-distance relationship. A cinematic image of nostalgia is a double exposure, or superimposition of two images – of home and abroad, past and present, dream and everyday life. The moment we try to force it into a single image, it breaks the frame or burns the surface. (2001, pp. xiii-xiv) Nostalgia often breaks its original image of home and turns into fantasy, including fantasy of love or romance in the distance. Musically, this version of “The Spring in a Northern Land” has a different introductory melody from the original; it includes female chorus and the sounds of the saxophone to set the song dramatically. Also, You Tian often sings with strong vibrato, similar to the Japanese kobushi voice, and makes the song more grandiose.6 Moving further to Southeast Asia, I would like to introduce another version of the song from Thailand, titled “Koy Wan Ja dai Jer (Waiting the Day We Meet Again)” by The Hot Peppers. It seems that the song was adapted from another Chinese version, titled “Wǒ Hé Nǐ (You and Me).” Like the aforementioned “Róngshù Xià,” it is a song telling about the love that has gone, and preserves a sense of nostalgia for someone far away. Passing days and months, you leave me and never come back I still remember you in my heart, even after many years I think of you, never forget The past is still bright and traps me today As I close my eyes, I see you in my mind I’ve never seen you after we separated Where is my heart gone? It never comes back again I’ve never cheated you, but you didn’t listen to me My heart is in deep sorrow. (The first verse, translation by Kittichai Thaowan) Musically, a group of female singers sings the song with a soft nasal voice quality that can be often heard in Thai language conversations. The voices also include many glissando tones that make a melody smooth and extended.7 In Thailand, I found another version of “Koy Wan Ja dai Jer” by the band Rainbow.8 In this music video, nostalgia for a former lover is clearly depicted with images of black and white footage, depicting memories of a past love. One of the unique features of this version is that the Rainbow utilizes a “call and response” between male and female. It can be inferred that these modifications in voice quality and singing styles better appeal to a local audience in Thailand. Lastly, I will present a Vietnamese version of the song, entitled “Mùa Xuân Phương Bắc (Northern Spring).” It is unfortunate that I could not find a recording of a singing version from Vietnam, but I found a karaoke version of the song,9 as well as the song lyrics. The title of the song remains close to the original, yet the lyrics tell about the love of a man missing a former girlfriend that is close to other versions of the song telling about nostalgic love. Although it is not specified in the English translation, in Vietnamese, it can be interpreted that the singer is a male addressing a female. I always remember your sparkling eyes I miss you dreadfully My darling, you know you are always in my heart. Because I love you, I miss you so much As if the waves takes a boat away from the docks without knowing where to sail When we meet next time, your feeling may have changed (The first verse, translation by Yukihiro and Hoa Doi) 21 MASAYA SHISHIKURA Besides this vocal version, interestingly, I found three instrumental versions of the song performed on the bamboo flute [sáo trúc] or whistle [huýt sáo].10 The performers also modified the melody extensively, so that it is a little hard to recognize the original melody. Yet, I find that these musical transformations manifest local music aesthetics and preference that contest to the intrusive experiences and homogenization in the process of globalization. Conclusion Around Asia, there are more examples of cover versions of the song “The Spring in a Northern Land.” Besides the aforementioned versions, I discovered the song in several Chinese languages, Hmong, Mongolian, Korean, Tibetan, and also an Indonesian gamelan version. I wonder why “The Spring in a Northern Land” achieved the popularity in these many different countries and regions around Asia. The simple anhemitonic pentatonic scale might be easily applied to lyrics of many different languages, but I also suggest that the empathetic sense of nostalgia inscribed in the song would appeal to a variety of displaced audiences as a result of globalization. Globalization provides us accessibility, benefits, and mobility, but it is also intrusive and excessive. Globalization accelerates people’s experiences with others that are new, stimulating, and exciting to some extent. Concurrently, rapid changes and mobility also infuse a sense of unfamiliarity, loss, detachment, and displacement. Lyrically as well as musically, I consider that the nostalgia inscribed in “The Spring in a Northern Land” is well accommodated in the people’s sentiment of missing something/someone in a globalizing Asia. As Boym suggests, nostalgia often breaks its original image of home and turns into something different with one’s own romance, fantasy, and illusion. I recognize that these transformations of images often include fantasy; the homes imagined in these songs never existed as described in the lyrics. Yet, even they are only in imagination or fantasy, homes expressed in these songs still console the sentiments of the people, who are facing troubles and difficulties caused by the anonymous phenomenon of globalization. Algia (longing) is a shared sense of human beings, who seek belonging to somewhere/someone, yet in nostos (the return home), people return to different homes. I miss home, but my home is different from yours; it is the local politics that opposes loss and displacement entangled in the process of inevitable globalization. Acknowledgements As it can be inferred, many individuals were involved in the preparation of this paper. I especially thank Kim Woo, Stephen Wild, Ricardo D. Trimillos, Deborah Wong, Made Mantle Hood, Mr. Kittichai Thaowan, Shibuya Junichi, Yukihiro and Hoa Doi, among others. Endnotes 1 The lyricist Idehaku (or Ide Hiromasa) says that he described his home of Shinshū, Japan, in this song (The Nikkei, 2008). 2 Music example at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGvECzTIlCw (27 September 2018). 3 In Fall semester 2004, I lived in Hong Kong and studied at the Chinese University of Hong Kong as an exchange student from the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa. During this period, I heard the song “Gùxiāng de Yǔ” on Temple Street. 4 Music example at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4Qp_P_VCpk (27 September 2018). 5 Music example at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=odFa8SZcyPk (27 September 2018). 6 Music example at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RKv1WkSeQs4 (27 September 2018). 7 Music example at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhA1d36ZjH8&start_radio=1&list=RDdhA1 d36ZjH8&t=0 (27 September 2018). 8 Music example at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoguXQ0Sb28 (27 September 2018). 9 Music example at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKxP23vziDU (27 September 2018). 10 Music examples at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MjQhZ-OnD-A and https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=368TW9dhdTw (27 September 2018). References Boym, S. (2001). Future of nostalgia. New York, NY: Basic Books. 22 NOSTALGIA IN MOTION: TRANSITION AND TRANSFORMATION OF A JAPANESE ENKA SONG IN EAST AND SOUTHEAST ASIA Condry, I. (2006). Hip-Hop Japan: Rap and the paths of cultural globalization. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Erni, J. N., & Chua, S. K. (Eds.). (2005). Asian media studies: Politics of subjectivities. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing. Gaonkar, D. P. (2001). Alternative modernities. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Iwabuchi, K. (2014). De-Westernisation, inter-Asian referencing and beyond. European Journal of Cultural Studies, 17(1), 44–57. Koizumi, F. (小泉文夫) et al. (1984). ヒット曲、ヒット歌手をつくる. Tokyo: Kodansha. Lie, J. (2014). K-Pop: Popular music, cultural amnesia, and economic innovation in South Korea. Oakland, CA: University of California Press. Mitsui, T., & Hosokawa, S. (Eds.). (1998). Karaoke around the world: Global technology, local singing. London: Routledge. The Nikkei. (2008, 10 December). 文化面. 23 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA TOURISM AND PERFORMING ARTS IN LAOS: THE LAO RAMAYANA OF LUANG PRABANG (Lightning Paper) Marie-Pierre Lissoir Traditional Arts and Ethnology Centre, Lao PDR Université Libre de Bruxelles, Belgium In the city of Luang Prabang, former royal capital of Laos, public performances of traditional music are scarce. One has to be lucky and pass by a private or religious event (wedding, ordination ceremony) to hear Luang Prabang’s traditional singing or instrumental music. Formerly a cradle of performing arts in Laos, the town now pales in comparison to the boiling capital Vientiane. One of the few performing arts easily accessible is the sacred dance of Pralak Pralam, from which episodes or related dances are performed in the city’s restaurants and at the “Theatre Pralak Pralam”. In 1995, Luang Prabang was awarded by UNESCO with the World Heritage status for its architectural heritage mixing French colonial and Laotian styles. Since then, tourism has grown fast and Luang Prabang is now the first touristic destination in Laos. But as raised by a UNESCO study, “tourism brings with it the potential to boost the economy of rural Lao PDR and has already contributed to a new sense of identity and local pride in the culture and heritage of the town of Luang Prabang. Tourism brings money and jobs but inevitably the issue of cultural change arises and must be addressed”. (UNESCO, 2004, p. 8). Two troupes performing the Pralak Pralam will be examined in this paper. Both have different target audiences and different approaches of the performance and its related rites. This paper is a work in progress, the first step in the analyse of the ways intangible heritage is performed in Luang Prabang and how tourism and UNESCO influence it, through the example of the Pralak Pralam, its production, repertoire, and communication. Performing Luang Prabang’s Heritage On the official tourism website of Luang Prabang, the city surrounded by mountains and rivers is depicted as a quiet town on which time has no hold. “Luang Prabang, timeless” is the slogan chosen by the Provincial Department of Information Culture and Tourism to attract travellers in search of authenticity. The “things to do” page of the website proposes the performance of the Pralak Pralam. One can also read: “Luang Prabang prides itself on being a place where traditional ways are respected. Discover a culture that has stood the test of time.” The Pralak Pralam is the Lao version of the Indian epic Ramayana. Its performance, gathering traditional orchestra, singers and masked dancers, is strongly influenced by Khmer and Siamese traditions. The dance was traditionally performed on the royal palace ground (many of the performing arts were related to the court and supported by it) or in temples for important diplomatic events or festivals. It was not considered as a show but as an offering to deities. The Pralak Pralam is divided in several episodes telling the Ramayana. Before and after these episodes, ritualised dances are performed: the nang keo (the apsara dance), the demons dance and the monkeys dance. These dances were part of the education of young peoples related to the court, teaching them how to behave, dress, and move. The best performers were selected to perform the episode of the Ramayana (Somsanith N., personal communications, 2018). The performance of the Pralak Pralam, deeply related to the Lao royalty, was stopped with the socialist revolution of 1975 and the dethronement of King Sisavang Vatthana. It was revived in the years 2000’s with the growing tourism and the need of local heritage to highlight. Today, several troupes perform the Pralak Pralam during official event, for Lao New Year, and most of all for tourists. While episodes are usually performed at the “Theatre Pralak Pralam” (in the yard of the former royal palace), or at Mai temple during New Year celebrations, related dances such as the nang keo can be attended daily in several restaurants of the city centre. The Royal Ballet of Pralak Pralam Four times a week during the tourist season, tourists visiting Luang Prabang can attend an episode of the Lao Ramayana performed by The Royal Ballet of Pralak Pralam. The troupe, created in 2003, performs in the 24 TOURISM AND PERFORMING ARTS IN LAOS: THE LAO RAMAYANA OF LUANG PRABANG theatre next to the former royal palace, which was transformed into a national museum since the revolution. As the ballet target tourists, a summary of the episode is written at the entrance of the building and told to the audience in English and French before the show. The performance includes an episode of the Pralak Pralam but also the nang keo dance, the demons dance and the monkeys dance. On the troupe’s internet page one can read about the Pralak Pralam ballet: “After several periods of trouble, the performance of the troupes became less frequent. However, the theatrical tradition associated with the musical art remained. And the choreographers, the musicians and other passionate people, continued tirelessly to pass on their knowledge to the younger generations.” The troupe is made of about fifty members (dancers and musicians), who perform for two hours, at the end of which the masked dancers pose for pictures in front of the audience. Most of them are young students who are able to achieve a middle-range performance, but who ignore the ritual side of Pralak Pralam, such as paying respect and performing rituals related to the masks, understanding the meaning of the characters and their gestures, etc. Young performers rehearse when they have free time after school, learning the steps from an older choreographer. While the “authentic” side of the Pralak Pralam is abundantly promoted, the troupe proposes a version of the Lao Ramayana that could be qualified as “folklorisation”. All the rituals and knowledge gravitating around the performance of the Pralak Pralam are ignored. The formerly sacred dance is now proposed as a must see performance displaying an “authentic” royal tradition, a show. Figure 1. Dancers of The Royal Ballet of Pralak Pralam at the end of the show performed in the building of the “Theatre Pralak Pralam”. (Source: Marie-Pierre Lissoir) The Norphao Troupe The norphao troupe was founded in 2009 by Nithakhong Somsanith, descendant of the line of the former viceroys of Luang Prabang (Ouvrard, 2016, p. 18). Norphao (“coconut shoots” in Lao), is composed of young boys and girls meeting every weekend to practice music, dance and related disciplines, such as flower arrangement or costume sewing. The students have access to traditional musical instruments (xylophone, fiddle, flute, drums, etc.), costumes, and a space to rehearse. They learn how to use these tools at their disposal, mostly through the performance of nang keo dance. But most of all, they learn how to respect these tools and take care of them. Like the pre-1975 version of the Pralak Pralam, the performance of the ballet is the occasion to teach young people how to dance and play music, but above all how to behave: walking with grace, dressing up, and respecting masks and musical instruments through good care and rituals. For Nithakhong Somsanith, it is important to first master the basics. For now, the troupe focuses therefore on the nang keo dance, as an introduction to the Pralak Pralam. The students learn all the discipline, rituals, music and dance related to it, and transmit these values to each other. This transmission system between students gives responsibilities to the members of the troupe taking decision and action in their own apprenticeship under the benevolent watch and advices of Nithakhong Somsanith. The troupe is booked by VIP tourists, and is proud to offer a performance of high quality, in which every aspect of the tradition is promoted: music, dance, rituals,1 and respect for the masks and the figures they embody. 25 MARIE-PIERRE LISSOIR The approach of norphao focuses more on the ritual aspect of the Pralak Pralam, than on the show. With this project, Nithakhong Somsanith offers first of all an inspiring setting to young people willing to learn and share knowledge. He explains: “I trust youth and what they have in their genes. They need to be supported. I offer them a fertile ground in which they can take root and blossom. I give them the ingredients, and then they have to handle things themselves” (personal communication, 2018). Complementary Approaches With The Royal Ballet of Pralak Pralam troupe, the Pralak Pralam is staged as a show, a desacralized recreation. While the ballet is performed on the ground of the royal palace, the difficult past of the city is completely invisible for the visitors.2 The Norphao troupe, on the other hand, focuses not on the show but on the sacred side of the Pralak Pralam, and all the knowledge gravitating around it. Unlike The Royal Ballet, Norphao is based on a horizontal system of transmission, and highlights the rituals and tools that the young performers have to grow on their own, nourished of the fertile soil provided by the troupe and its initiator. While Norphao’s first goal is the transmission of knowledge that the performance itself, the troupes however can be seen as complementary. They both meet the expectation of tourists looking for the performance of a centenarian local tradition. Norphao and The Royal Ballet troupes, with their opposite approaches, give visitors the chance to witness a version of the Pralak Pralam. Not the sacred dance that was performed at the royal palace, but a form of it; modified, but still alive. While tourism transforms the performance of heritage, it participates in the persistence of a certain form of it. A form however that is depoliticized, presenting the image of a tamed and therefore harmless past (Berliner, 2012). Conclusion In Luang Prabang, cultural appreciation and reflections usually concern built heritage. However, with the inscription of the music of the mouth organ khaen on the representative list of Intangible Cultural Heritage in December 2017, Laos starts to look at its intangible heritage. It is time for Laos in general and Luang Prabang in particular, to initiate a profound reflection on its intangible heritage (puppetry, dance, music): how to promote and highlight it in view of growing tourism, migrations, social changes an History. Norphao and The Royal Ballet of Pralak Pralam show two conceptions of heritage, two different ways in which it is performed and taught in today’s Laos: as folklore, or as ritual. This growing visibility of Intangible Heritage in Luang Prabang3 will be described an analysed in further researches. While the royal past of Luang Prabang makes that reflection sometimes difficult, it is time to consider the continuity of intangible heritage and the setting of structures gathering the different cultural actors in this time of growing tourism and rapid cultural changes. Endnotes 1 The vai khu ritual for example is performed at the beginning of each performance as a sign of respect for the spirits of the arts and the ancestors (Ouvrard, 2016, p. 19). 2 The town as been strongly neglected after the socialist revolution of 1975 because of its relations with the former royal family (Berliner, 2012, p. 771). 3 The Traditional Arts and Ethnology Centre in Luang Prabang opened in September 2018 an exhibition about traditional wind instruments of Laos. References Berliner, D. (2012). Multiple nostalgias: The fabric of heritage in Luang Prabang (Lao PDR). Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.), 18, 769-786. Ouvrard H. (2016). Contemporary performing arts in Laos. Luang Prabang: Pha Tad Ke Botanical Garden. Tourism Luang Prabang website. (n. d.). Retrieved from http://tourismluangprabang.org/ UNESCO. (2004). IMPACT: The effects of tourism on culture and the environment in Asia and the Pacific: Tourism and heritage site management in Luang Prabang, Lao PDR. Bangkok: UNESCO. 26 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA GELUNGAN IN BALINESE ARJA: PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL INTERACTION BETWEEN HEADDRESS AND PERFORMER (Lightning Paper) Ako Mashino Tokyo University of Arts, Japan This paper discusses the gelungan, or headdress, of Balinese arja, a traditional theatre form consisting of music and dance. In Balinese performing arts generally, costumes are indispensable parts of a performance, not additional or superficial ornaments (Bandem, 1983, pp. 39). Furthermore, their materiality interacts in multiple ways with the performer’s body in the delivery of a performance. Gelungan Design for Stock Characters Arja has roughly eleven stock characters who appear in nearly every performance of any story. The characters are distinct from one another, and can be divided into complements: royalty and servants, female and male, manis (sweet) and buduh (crazy, arrogant). These differences are represented by their visual and aural characteristics. Costume and make-up are one of the significant indexes which distinguish each character. As I Wayan Dibia notes, in arja, gelungan reveals a character’s gender, social status, and power (Dibia, 1992, pp. 205–208). All the characters wear gelungan made of leather, except the male servants, who wear an udeng, headcloth, sometimes of leather, which basically serves the same function as gelungan. Udeng is a part of pakaian adat, the traditional costume which Balinese men usually wear as formal attire when they attend rituals. In the arja context, wearing udeng reflects the attendant’s male gender and lower status as commoners. Figure 1. (Left) Gelungan worn by Mantri Manis. (Right) Udeng worn by male attendants, Penasar Manis (left) and Kartala (right). (Photos by A. Mashino) Limbur, an empress, and Galuh, a sweet queen or princess, are both female royalty and wear gelungan. But that of Limbur includes a kendon, a round part in the back, the same as that for Mantri, a prince or king, indicating higher status and power, with relatively short-back hair, while that for Galuh has a differentlyshaped part, called pepudakan, with a longer bunch of hair and flowers, reflecting her position as a younger female of less power among the other royalty. Condong, a wise and trusted attendant to the princess Galuh, also wears a gelungan which looks similar to those of royalty with its three flower sticks, bancangan, especially when seen from the front. But its backside is not wrapped with golden leather, but instead features a pusungan, or hair bun. This difference reveals that she is a servant, not royalty, though of a higher status than ordinary people. The gelungan of Desak Rai, a servant of the buduh camp, by contrast, has a definitely simpler structure, without bancangan, reflecting her lower status, youth, and immaturity. 27 AKO MASHINO Figure 2. (Left) Gelungan of Condong. (Right) gelungan of Desak Rai. (Photos by A. Mashino) Liku is a princess like Galuh, but she is a crazy princess belonging to the buduh side. The positions of her bancangan are too far to the side. This lack of balance and her long braids of different lengths represent her eccentric and childish character, which is most effectively depicted when the gelungan is combined with the performer’s made-up face splashed with many white dots, a costume worn untidily, jerky body movements, and a harsh voice. Besides gelungan, costumes and make-up, the physicality of a performer naturally has great importance in embodying a character, as each character has a typical appearance. For example, Condong and Desak Rai are usually performed by females shorter than their princesses. A performer portraying Galuh should have an egg-shaped face and slender body, to visually represent her elegance. Queen Limbur should have a square face and strong physique to express her dignity. One’s innate physical attributes, called sesaluk, are of great concern in casting a specific character. When sesaluk is combined with gelungan, the personality of the stock character is visually embodied and given its life on stage. The use of stock characters appearing in various stories is also common in other traditional Balinese theatrical forms, such as wayang kulit, shadow puppetry, or topeng, masked dance, where the color and designs of the materials used also visually represent the character (see Hobart, 1987, pp. 67-124; Slattum & Shraub, 1992). Gelungan and the Performer’s Body: Sesaluk and the Partiality of Gelungan In wayang and topeng, one performer can perform different characters, one after another, by changing puppets or masks. The puppets of wayang kulit are full body. Topeng masks cover the face, a most essential key to identifying a person. The materials cover the performer’s own body and face, hiding his real self behind them, and thus enable him to act as different personalities. On the other hand, the gelungan of arja only partially covers the head of the performer, so that the characterization depends more heavily on the performer’s own physique. Therefore, arja performers most often appear as a specialist in one character over their career. The most important criterion in casting a character is whether the gelungan fits the performer’s face and vocal quality; thus, in the past, arja performers even underwent a kind of gelungan test. Specific types of face, body, and voice were prerequisites to starting one’s whole career as an arja performer. Today, the gelungan test or voice check to know whether or not a candidate fits the character has become rare, but the gelungan is still thought to be a touchstone to evaluate the aptitude of the performer, as if it chooses the human body that will be combined with it. As I Ketut Kodi, an established performer of arja, topeng, and wayang kulit as well as a topeng mask carver, explains, “the human face cannot be modified as with carving a mask, while other aspects such as the voice can be improved with training and skills, at least to some extent” (Kodi, personal communication, March 12, 2017). 28 GELUNGAN IN BALINESE ARJA: PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL INTERACTION BETWEEN HEADDRESS AND PERFORMER Combination with the Performer’s Body According to Kodi, the gelungan has a special power to reinforce the performer’s aura, making a small person look bigger, and an ordinary person look like a king. It is also an armour and an amulet, which spiritually protects the performer from invisible enemies and dangers (Kodi, personal communication, March 12, 2017). The performer executes a small ceremony when she/he buys a new gelungan, in the hope that their combination will bring success in performance. From that point on, it is carefully maintained, and periodically presented offerings, because it is also believed to be a place that taksu, a spiritual power leading to performance success, arrives and inhabits. Arja performers often have a special affection for and psychological ties with their own gelungan. Ni Made Astari, an arja specialist, once lent her gelungan to her student who desperately asked her for it, although she was disinclined to do so. When Astari used it after it had been returned, the gelungan fell from her head during a performance. According to her interpretation, this extraordinary and impermissible happening suggested that she should not have lent her gelungan, and that doing so might have impaired the connection between her and the gelungan. Another possibility to which she also referred was that her student had unintentionally mistreated the gelungan (personal communication, September 5, 2017). Special ties between the performers and their materials can also be found in topeng and wayang kulit. Masks, puppets, as well as gelungan become parts of the performer’s body and spirit, so that they look inseparably synthesized on the stage. Such integration gives life to the character being performed. Conclusion The materiality of gelungan and the human body mutually complement one another to embody a character. It is the same in wayang kulit and topeng, which also require that the human body and voice be combined with materials, while the significance of the bodies of the performers is more emphasized in arja, which corresponds to the incomplete coverage of the gelungan. References Bandem, I. M. (1983). Ensiklopedi tari Bali. Denpasar: Akademi Seni Tari Indonesia. Dibia, I. W. (1992). Arja: A sung dance-drama of Bali: A study of change and transformation (Doctoral dissertation). University of California, Los Angeles. Hobart, A. (1987). Dancing shadows of Bali. London: KPI. Mashino, A. (2016). The body as intersection: Interaction and collaboration of voice, body, and music in Balinese Arja. In M. A. M. Nor, & K. Stepputat (Eds.), Sounding the dance, moving the music: Choreomusicological perspectives on maritime Southeast Asian performing arts, (pp. 96–107). Farnham, Surrey, UK: Ashgate. Slattum, J., & Shraub, P. (1992). Masks of Bali: Spirits of an ancient drama. San Francisco: Chronicle Books. 29 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA PERFORMANCE CONTEXTS OF BURMESE PUPPETRY: POSTMODERN STRATEGIES IN TODAY’S MYANMAR CULTURAL TOURISM (Lightning Paper) Lorenzo Chiarofonte SOAS University of London, United Kingdom Introduction This paper has come as a direct consequence of my experience as a tourist in Myanmar during the short visit my family paid me in the Christmas holiday at the beginning of 2018. At that time, I had been in the field for six months investigating the music of the nat pwes (spirit possession ceremonies) in Yangon and Mandalay as part of my PhD fieldwork research. The experience made me realise that despite the large amounts of performing art traditions still alive in Burma/Myanmar.1 Burmese puppetry is the only one being presented to international guests visiting the country. This paper examines the current performance contexts of Burmese puppetry (yokhte) in relation to Myanmar’s current tourist environment. In her paper Burmese Marionettes: Yokthe Thay in Transition, Kathy Foley (2001) outlines the different stages of the Burmese puppetry tradition within the last century, explaining how the 1960s-70s revival, operated by the educated classes nostalgic for the past and encouraged by the government with a nationalist intent, helped launch Burmese puppetry into the cultural tourism industry. Questioning the classic dichotomy post-colonial/neo-colonial, Foley explains how these two “tropes” are actually deeply interrelated: What we see in contemporary Burmese puppetry is a conscious move by local artists to utilize both these systems [post- and neo-colonial] to gain a living and to preserve and develop an art. As I look around Southeast Asia, I find that this postmodern strategy of dual development serving two audiences – local/nationalistic and international/touristic – is the norm. Artists realize that they play for both a national and international audience. At stake is the survival of their art. (Foley, 2001, p. 78) Contemporary Yokhte Performance Contexts The creation of a shortened form of yokhte for cultural tourism (Smith, 2003) performances allowed puppeteers to ‘gain a living’ and to ‘preserve and develop’ their art. Today, a variety of different performance contexts can be recognised: For international audiences: Hotels: short performance (30 mins), ‘cultural experience’; traditional puppetry; Established theatres (Mandalay and Yangon): long performance (1-hour); ‘cultural experience’; traditional puppetry; International festivals/workshops: exchanges with international puppet masters; traditional and contemporary puppetry For local audiences: Itinerant shows: private engagements (schools, pagodas) or public shows (national festivals); traditional and contemporary puppetry In the first context, the puppetry performance targets tourists in search of an “authentic ethnic experience.” In the most touristic areas (Bagan, Inle) restaurants and hotels advertise puppetry as a “traditional puppet show,” to be enjoyed alongside “traditional Burmese food”—in some cases for an exorbitantly expensive fee. Those visitors interested in having a deeper “cultural experience” pay a visit to marionette theatres— Myanmar Marionette (ex-Mandalay Marionette, Mandalay), and Htwe Oo Myanmar Marionette Theatre (Yangon). These theatres offer a traditional puppet show condensed into a 1 hour program; the dances of the most popular and traditional puppet characters are accompanied by general explanations, and by a summary of the history of Burmese puppetry. The theatres rely on individual travellers, promoting their activities themselves through social media (TripAdvisor above all) and also being recommended by guidebooks (e.g. Lonely Planet) and local tour guides. In very recent years, Burmese puppeteers also started to be present in international contexts. By participating in international workshops abroad2 and organising puppet festivals in Myanmar,3 Burmese 30 PERFORMANCE CONTEXTS OF BURMESE PUPPETRY: POSTMODERN STRATEGIES IN TODAY’S MYANMAR CULTURAL TOURISM puppeteers are not only having a cultural exchange with masters from all over the world—they are also promoting different forms of Burmese puppetry. In these contexts, traditional and contemporary forms of puppetry appear side by side in front of an audience of marionettes experts. Private sponsors, pagoda trustees or schools can request a troupe to perform for a local audience. These performances do not necessarily stick to the traditional puppet stories—Jataka tales displaying the past lives of the Buddha with an educational intent—and often opt instead for different stories, according to the taste of the audience. In 2018, during the Thingyan (the Water Festival celebrating the Burmese New Year in April), a puppet show was arranged on the east side of Mandalay Royal Palace. The show was the same as the one performed for tourists. Burmese people, with family and children, gathered around the small stage, with phones in their hands, and took pictures and videos of the performance—very “touristy” behaviour. Figure 1. Burmese audiences in front of a traditional yokhte pwe – Mandalay, Thingyan festival, April 2018. (Photo by the author) On another occasion in Mandalay, The Myanmar Marionette troupe performed a pwe for the inauguration of a new public library. The show “Today Readers, Tomorrow Leaders” was intended for Burmese children: it was a contemporary play with an educational purpose to encourage reading among the younger generations and performed with contemporary marionettes. The new contemporary play is always performed after a traditional yokhte pwe—the very same enjoyed by tourists. Figure 2. Myanmar Marionette Theatre, “Today Readers, Tomorrow Leaders” – Mandalay, June 2018. (Photo by the author) Conclusion In today’s Burmese performance practices, traditional/touristic and contemporary/local performance contexts are at the same time separated and interrelated. Contemporary marionettes perform for local audiences together with traditional yokhte puppets—the same that animates the cultural excursions of tourists in search of a more authentic experience (Smith, 2003). The touristic performance, on the other hand, displays only the scenes belonging to the tradition, and as such are also presented to international audiences. Contemporary performances are intended for locals and not for tourists; only recently have they started to appear at national and international festival as “experimental puppetry.” 31 LORENZO CHIAROFONTE The recent reprise of Burmese puppetry, characterised by new marionettes and stories, must not be considered just as a revival, but also as the result of the successful post-modern strategy as indicated by Foley (2001). In the urban contexts of Mandalay and Yangon, the creation of a simplified/standardised form of traditional yokhte pwe, mostly for tourist but also for local audiences, allowed puppeteers to support themselves financially and to continue developing their tradition. As a result, in recent years the art of Burmese puppetry has been showing signs of development: modern and contemporary plays maintain the didactic/educational elements that characterised puppetry in the past. The art of Burmese marionettes, through utilising its role in both traditional and contemporary has adapted itself to the new needs of modern Burmese society. Endnotes 1 Together with zat pwe (classical theatre) and nat pwe (spirit possession ceremonies), yokhte pwe was performed outdoor with the support of a hsaing waing ensemble. See Bruns (2006); Ye Dway (2013, 2014). 2 For example, the ASEAN Puppets Exchange Programme (APEX): http://aseanfoundation.org/what-wedo/apex/ 3 In March 2018 the Puppet Theatre Committee (a branch of the Myanmar Theatrical Association) organised the first “Myanmar International Puppet Festival” in Yangon, with puppetry groups representing nine different countries. References Bruns, A. (2006). Burmese puppetry. Bangkok: White Lotus. Foley, K. (2001). Burmese marionettes: Yokthe Thay in transition. Asian Theatre Journal, 18(1), 69-80. Smith, M. (2003). Issues in cultural tourism studies. New York, NY: Routledge. Ye Dway. (2013). Marionettes of Myanmar. Myanmar: Sarpay Beikman. Ye Dway. (2014). Myanmar dance and drama. Yangon: Today Publishing House. 32 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA CONSTRUCTING A PLACE FOR THE YOUNGEST ROYAL MUSICIAN IN THE ROYAL CREMATION OF KING RAMA IX (Lightning Paper) Supeena Insee Adler University of California Los Angeles, USA Sattra, a Thai musician from outside of Bangkok, is the youngest royal musician to have been hand-picked by his master to perform in the lavish state ceremony for the cremation of King Rama IX in Bangkok October, 2017. Performing an important musical role in such an event is an honour of the highest order, and Sattra attained this position after just one year of studying in secrecy with his teacher, a highly respected master musician who works with the Royal Princess in her palace. This paper will review the process by which Sattra became a royal musician despite not having previously focused on the quadruple reed oboe and never having publicly performed the repertoire before. His unprecedented appointment created tension within the community of musicians, especially among other students of the master teacher who are widely recognised as having superior skills, and it also implicated Sattra in the network of charisma and royal authority that comes with being a royal musician. I will examine this case an example of how royal authority is transmitted and established among musicians in the Thai court music tradition, and how this is integrated with traditional Thai musical practices of guardianship, secrecy, and the relationship between teacher and student. Introduction Sattra Talu is the youngest musician who was selected to perform sacred bua laui repertoire for the royal cremation of King Rama IX in Bangkok that took place in October of 2017. He obtained this opportunity from his teacher, Khruu Boonchuay Sowat, a very highly skilled royal musician who regularly performs with the royal princess. Many musicians regard Khruu Boonchuay as the greatest oboe player in the country, and possessing great baaramii or personal charisma and authority. He and his family are very close to royalty and have been performing for them for generations. While he could have conferred this authority to any of his students or colleagues who could have easily learned this special repertoire, Boonchuay handpicked the young Sattra to fill this role. Sattra is from Northeast Thailand. At the time, he was studying a Master’s degree and Boonchuay was his academic advisor. The offer from a teacher of such high status simply could not be refused. As a result, after learning that Sattra was selected to perform for the royal funeral alongside other great musicians, several other musicians became jealous of Sattra. Supported by the power of his teacher, Sattra tried hard to not care what other musicians said behind his back. Background The musicians selected to perform in the royal cremation ceremony were from the Fine Arts Department, the College of Dramatic Arts, the Music Divisions of the royal militaries, the musical house of Phattaya Kosol, and Chulalongkorn University. In the early 20th century, palace musicians were formally incorporated into the government, and the places of highest status for musicians became these institutions. Their social status emanates not only from their musical ability but also from their affiliation, through these institutions, with royalty and royal authority. Being selected to perform in the cremation ceremony was both a duty and a public affirmation of their high status. Over 3,000 performing artists participated in the performances for the cremation events, and over a thousand more performed in the procession of the king’s urn and coffin from the royal palace to the cremation grounds. But only four oboe players were selected for the cremation ceremony itself, and one of them was Sattra. The Bua Laui Ensemble and its Musicians Just sixteen musicians were selected to perform in four bua laui ensembles, each positioned in an elevated pavilion next to the crematorium, the closest of all musical ensembles to the body of the king. Each ensemble consisted of four musicians: one pii chawaa (quadruple reed oboe), two klaung khaek (double-headed drums), and one meng (small gong played with a heavy wooden beater). These four ensembles played as the 33 SUPEENA INSEE ADLER procession of the king passed and when the cremation itself began. Although the repertoire for this ensemble consists of a small number of fixed compositions, this music is played with elaborate improvisations that can last up to two hours. So, the musicians selected to perform in these ensembles have to be exceptionally skilled, which usually means elder teachers. So, the selection of Sattra was a startling exception. Sattra Talu After graduating from a two-year college in Northeast Thailand, Sattra moved to Bangkok to continue his education at the royally affiliated College of Dramatic Arts. While studying in Bangkok, he had a chance to study with a great master of oboe, Khruu Peep Konglaithong, who was also a student of Khruu Boonchuay. In fact, Boonchuay had studied oboe with Peep’s father, who was an oboe player for King Rama VI, a lineage of exceptional status. While Khruu Peep has many oboe students, Boonchuay has passed his skills to just four students publicly, and one of them was Sattra. When I asked him about his experience learning the bua laui repertoire, he said that he was shocked when Boonchuay first told him he would learn bua laui for the King’s cremation. At that time, the king had not yet passed and any discussion about his imminent passing was socially unacceptable. Sattra cried, knowing the gravity of what his teacher proposed to teach him. Boonchuay reassured him, “don’t be so sad, your job is to do your best...You will practice and perform as much as you love the king.” Sattra studied in secret. He asked himself why his teacher had picked him to prepare this special repertoire, but he never posed this question to his teacher because Sattra considers himself to be a humble and obedient student who is obliged to do whatever his teacher instructs. A Controversial Appointment Some musicians supported Sattra, while many others were critical of his appointment to such an esteemed role in the cremation. Sattra said that he didn’t care. He had studied the special suite with his teacher spending up to four hours a day. He explained that his teacher not only taught him how to play pii chawaa but also taught the reason behind each phrase of the music. Khruu Boonchuay taught repertoire that is for the king, who has the highest merit, so he must be especially careful how he plays to show the highest respect to the music and to the king. He taught Sattra a secret holy text to recite before performing to prevent mistakes. Figure 1. Sattra Talu and his oboe teacher, Boonchuay Sowat, during a rehearsal for the cremation ceremony for King Rama IX. (Photo by Sattra Talu at Sanam Luang, Bangkok, Thailand, October 20, 2017) Traditionally, the bua laui repertoire should only be practiced in the palace or temple, but Sattra could not practice in these places while studying in secret, so Khruu Boonchuay granted permission for him to practice at school, assuring him that teacher spirits would watch over him. Khruu Boonchuay carefully managed all aspects of Sattra’s training, protecting him from criticism while also boosting his confidence and his sense of ritual obligation. 34 CONSTRUCTING A PLACE FOR THE YOUNGEST ROYAL MUSICIAN IN THE ROYAL CREMATION OF KING RAMA IX Sattra ritually paid respect to his teacher and to the deities of music before performing in the cremation. Typically, it should be the oldest or most highly respected teacher of the ensemble to make this offering. However, for the royal cremation, his teacher instructed him to conduct the offering himself, even though the other musicians were older and among the most highly regarded performers of bua laui in Thailand. None of other older musicians in the ensemble dared to protest. His appointment as the leader of a bua laui ensemble for the royal cremation raised many questions for other musicians. One even asked him if he had used black magic to trick his teacher, or prepared tainted food for him. To dismiss these jealous suspicions, Sattra recalled that his teacher had told him, “If you have a pure heart, the sound of music that you produce will also be pure.” Sattra was, in fact, quite naive about the social implications of his selection, and I suggested that this contributed to Boonchuay choosing him. He was easier to manipulate, and his devotion to his teacher was sincere. In addition, whoever Boonchuay selected would be placed in an exceptional position, and by not choosing someone affiliated with a major institution or music house, he avoided creating conflict between them over the selection. And he could appeal to Sattra’s sense of duty to deflect jealousy from other musicians. While other musicians criticised Sattra, no one dared to publicly criticise Boonchuay. When I asked other oboe players about this appointment, their body language indicated dismissal or frustration but they wouldn’t dare to criticise in words. One musician said to me, “what can you do? The teacher’s decision was absolute and no one could change it.” Boonchuay’s closeness to royal authority elevated him beyond criticism, and he was now seen to confer this status on an undeserving younger musician. 35 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA KHAP SAMNEUA FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE MOBILITY OF SINGERS (Lightning Paper) Gaku Kajimaru Kyoto University, Japan Introduction This paper describes the contemporary situation of the performers of khap Samneua music in Laos, focusing on the mobility of the singers, both on a small scale and also on a much larger scale.1 It has been said that Laos has been changing since the 1990s from a landlocked “buffer state” to “a crossroads” of the eastern Indochinese Peninsula (Pholsena & Banomyong, 2006). Along with this change, the increasing mobility of modern Laos has had a considerable effect on the society and culture of Laos (Bouté & Pholsena, 2017). The focus of discussions about mobility in Lao studies falls on relatively largescale mobility, including an international diaspora, internal migration and resettlement from highland to lowland and from rural to urban, human trafficking, and labour migration to foreign countries (Molland, 2017). This large-scale mobility is indispensable for understanding the modern situation of khap Samneua, though attention needs to be paid also to smaller scale mobility, such as daily movements throughout the region by motorbike and car. Khap Samneua is a kind of khap-lam style music originally sung in Huaphan province by Lao and Tai Daeng people. Khap-lam normally denotes a genre of traditional vocal music characterized by extemporaneous singing, usually in repartee form between a male and a female singer,2 sometimes with solo performance as well (Chapman, 2002, pp. 55-62; Chapman, 2003, pp. 97-98). This term consists of two parts—khap and lam. The term khap is used for folk singing styles in northern Laos, while lam is used for southern singing styles. These two styles sound different, especially in their rhythmical features (Takahashi, 2003)—lam sounds very rhythmical, while khap sounds smoother and less rhythmical—but, generally speaking, these two terms are treated as synonyms. The khap performance basically involves three performers, namely, a male singer, a female singer,3 and a khaen (traditional bamboo pipes) player. Sometimes additional performers take turns at each part (Figure 1). Performers are semi-professionals who hold down a daytime job and get extra income from taking part in khap performances. Figure 1. Performers and audience of khap Samneua. (Photo by the author) The main context of khap Samneua is its use in a Theravada Buddhist merit-sending ritual, “bun thaan” in Lao, which is a ritual for sending merit to ancestors (normally the host’s parents or grandparents). This ritual is held for two days (or more), with the performance of khap Samneua the whole night, from about 9 p.m. of the first day to 6 a.m. of the second day. According to the singers, there are other situations in which it is performed, such as wedding parties, celebrations of a new house, or suukhwan which is a ritual for praying for good health or safe travel. They say that sometimes they sing khap Samneua for celebrating a conference. 36 KHAP SAMNEUA FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE MOBILITY OF SINGERS The main purpose of singing in most of these situations is for entertainment, except for suukhwan and bun thaan. In these last two situations, the singing has a sacred aspect to some extent. Khap Samneua in Huaphan In 2013 in Huaphan province, it seemed that most khap Samneua performances were seen only at bun thaan held in and near the towns of Samneua and Viengxay, the two economically most developed towns in Huaphan province. One of the reasons why khap occurs most often in bun thaan seems to be that, as Rhebein (2007) described, young people in Laos are not interested in traditional folk songs like khap-lam but are interested in listening instead to westernized pop music from Thailand and other countries. On the other hand, because the main people in bun thaan are usually older people or the deceased in the host’s family, hosts still invite performers to perform khap because the old people still enjoy it. There are two factors why khap singers are invited to perform only for rituals in and near the main towns in Huaphan province. First, there are many (relatively) rich people who can afford to pay for performers. In this province, a host needs to pay about 300 to 500 thousand kip (roughly about 40 USD) per performer, which is too expensive for the rural farmers in the local villages. Second, it is easy for performers to access the place of ritual and easy for them to gather with other performers. Performers of khap Samneua normally contact each other by mobile phone and go to the place of ritual by motorbike or by car. In Huaphan province, only the main roads connecting large towns are paved well. The main road from Samneua to Viengxay is the best highway in this province, because Samneua is the capital of Huaphan province and Viengxay is a special town for tourism and national historical memory (see Tappe, 2011). The small-scale mobility of khap singers contributes to preserving opportunities of keeping up the khap Samneua tradition. Khap Samneua in a Vientiane Suburb In 2013, I heard that many khap singers who had originally lived in Huaphan had relocated to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. During my field trip to Vientiane in 2017, I was able to interview five singers (two males and three females). Each singer had migrated to Vientiane at some time between 1984 and 2001. The singers hold down various daytime jobs, but most of them said they moved to Vientiane to pursue economic opportunities not confined to their main job but also involving khap performance. They can earn about 3 million kips per night in Vientiane, which is six times more than in Huaphan. Their hosts in the capital are also mainly people from Huaphan province who love to listen to khap Samneua. Sometimes the singers also have an opportunity to travel to other provinces, such as Phongsaly and Pakse, where many Huaphan people live. Economic factors play an important role in internal migration in Laos (Bouté, 2017), so the country’s increasing prosperity assists both the small-scale mobility of the singers of khap Samneua as well as the larger scale mobility of the Huaphan people in general. Khap Samneua and the Mobility of Singers As is common in Laos and all over the world, modernization and economic development have brought about the decline of traditional folk performances like khap Samneua in Huaphan. But at the same time, economic development and infrastructure improvements like paved roads, which improve the singers’ small-scale mobility, have given a chance for khap in Huaphan to continue to exist, although under somewhat restricted conditions. Modernization and economic development have also accelerated the internal migration of Huaphan people including singers. Of course, this explanation ignores politico-historical aspects (Molland, 2017), which are also an important factor in the migration of Huaphan people. But in any case, it is apparent that economic aspects play a significant role in the immigration of singers and their activity as singers of khap Samneua. As recent studies suggest, mobility is one of the focal points to observe when analyzing recent Lao society and culture. The situation of khap Samneua also can be understood from this viewpoint. 37 KAJIMARU GAKU Endnotes 1 This research is based on three field trips of a duration of 6 months in total in 2013 in three villages in Huaphan province and supplementary fieldwork in August 2017 in Vientiane and in March 2018 in Vang Vieng (Vientiane province). 2 I call this kind of singing “reciprocal singing,” a style of singing that features two or more singers singing improvised words to each other with a fixed melody in the form of conversation. 3 Singers are often called moo-khap, “singing specialists.” References Bouté, V. (2017). Reaching the cities: New forms of network and social differentiation in Northern Laos. In V. Bouté & W. Pholsena (Eds.), Changing lives in Laos: Society, politics, and culture in a postsocialist state (pp. 221-247). Singapore: NUS Press. Bouté, V. & Pholsena, V. (2017). Introduction. In V. Bouté & W. Pholsena (Eds.), Changing lives in Laos: Society, politics, and culture in a post-socialist state (pp. 1-15). Singapore: NUS Press. Chapman, A. (2002). Regional traditions of Lao vocal music: Lam Siphandon and Khap Ngeum (Doctoral dissertation). Monash University, Melbourne. Retrieved from https://figshare.com/articles/Region al_traditions_of_Lao_vocal_music_lam_siphandon_and_khap_ngeum/5466910 Chapman, A. (2003). “A crow jumps on rocks”: Indigenous approaches to composing and performing text in Lao vocal music. Yearbook for Traditional Music, 35, 97-129. Molland, S. (2017). Migration and mobility in Laos. In V. Bouté & W. Pholsena (Eds.), Changing lives in Laos: Society, politics, and culture in a post-socialist state (pp. 327-349). Singapore: NUS Press. Pholsena, V. & Banomyong, R. (2006). Laos: From buffer state to crossroads? Chiang Mai: Mekong Press. Rhebein, B. (2007). Globalization, culture and society in Laos. New York, NY: Routledge. Takahashi, A. (2003). Folk songs of Laos: General view of “lam / kup”. Bulletin of Chukyo Women’s University, 37, 105-114. (in Japanese) Tappe, O. (2011). Memory, tourism, and development: Changing sociocultural configurations and uplandlowland relations in Houaphan Province, Lao PDR. SOJOURN: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia, 26(2), 174-195. 38 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ORAL TRANSMISSION SYSTEM OF BURMESE CLASSICAL SONGS: OVERVIEW OF BAZAT-HSAING OR MOUTH-MUSIC (Lightning Paper) Sayuri Inoue Osaka University, Japan Introduction This paper is an overview of Burmese classical song vocalization called bazat-hsaing or mouth-music and an examination of its teaching method.1 Bazat-hsaing is a way of transmitting instrumental parts into words similar to solmization in Western music. Burmese classical songs are transmitted using written and oral methods. The written song texts are used for singing; however, the melodies and instruments’ parts are usually transmitted orally. For instrumental parts, musical notation have been used from the twentieth century in only a limited way. The late harpist U Myint Maung (1937-2001) wrote a lot of notation after he met the American ethnomusicologist, Judith Becker in 1959. He first learned the staff notation from her. After his death, his wife, Daw Khin May used his handwritten notations when she wants to follow her husband’s arrangements or when she forgets the songs, however she teaches orally to her pupils. In any case, musicians use bazat-hsaing for transmitting music. “Bazat” means “mouth” and “hsaing” means “drum-circle instruments,” so “bazat-hsaing” means “mouth drum-circle.” It can be translated as “mouth-music” (Williamson, 2000). The only detailed study of the bazat-hsaing is that by Williamson (2000) who describes the basic structure and the modal system through analyzing bazat-hsaing (pp. 56-73). Shoon Myaing (2004) describes the meaning of basic bazat-hsaing words (pp. 14-18). In this paper, I will focus on how to use bazat-hsaing for transmitting music.2 Basic Bazat-hsaing Words There are fifteen basic bazat-hsaing words. They are tya, tei, tyo, htan, dyan, dalu, htoun/tyo, tya/htoun, ta/na, da/ba, byaun, byo, htan, htan, and dun. For example, tya means the tonic, and tei means to play the one lower tone of the tonic and the five lower tone of it simultaneously (see Table 1). We can see from these examples that bazat-hsaing is defined based on the tonic. Bazat-hsaing tya tei tyo htan dyan dalu htoun/ tyo tya htoun ta/ na da/ ba byaun byo htan htan: dun Indicate Tones and Playing Techniques The tonic Play two tones; the one lower tone and the five lower tone of the tonic simultaneously. Play the tone which is three lower tone of the tonic. Play two tones; the tonic and the nine higher tone of the tonic simultaneously. Play two tones; the three lower tone and the five lower tone of the tonic in turn. Play three tones consequently such as C-E*-B*. Play two tones; the tonic and the three lower tone of the tonic simultaneously. Play two tones; the tonic and the four lower tone from the tonic simultaneously. Play with the right hand or the right forefinger. Play with the left hand or the right thumb. Play two tones; a tone and its’ octave lower tone simultaneously. Play two harmony tones, “meik hpet than,” simultaneously. Play the tonic and the one higher tone of it. Play the tonic and the two octave lower harmony tone (eleven chord). Play the tonic and the seven higher tone of it (major seven chord). Table 1. Basic bazat-hsaing words and their meanings.3 Bazat-hsaing can be divided into two types: one indicates a specific tone, while the other indicates which hand or finger to play with. Most Burmese musical instruments are played by two parts, the right and left hand for the bamboo-xylophone (pattala) and various kinds of drums. The harp is also played by two parts, the forefinger and thumb of the right hand. The forefinger is referred to as right, while the thumb is referred 39 SAYURI INOUE to as left. For example, “dune dune” means to alternate first with the left hand and then the right hand. “Tedu nedu” is opposite. It indicates to play from the right hand then the left. However, there remain tones and playing techniques that cannot be represented by bazat-hsaing. These are indicated by appropriate words and phrases from individual players. For example, Daw Khin May indicates them by singing the phrase or saying which strings should be played. She usually uses the pitch names in Western music, such as C, D, E, F, G, A and B. Bazat-Hsaing and Tuning Systems There are four basic tuning systems (modes) for Burmese classical songs. Bazat-hsaing is based on the oldest tuning system; hnyinloun-tuning. If the tonic is tuned as C, this tuning is C-D-E*-F-G-A-B*. The tones, E* and B* are a little bit lower than their natural tones. A Burmese harp consists of sixteen strings today. The Burmese scale is a seven-tone scale and makes one octave with five strings on the harp. The tonic is called “tya” by bazat-hsaing. It is on the fourth shortest string. One lower tone from the tonic is called “tei,” and four tones lower tones is called “tyo”. These three tones are next to each other on the harp strings when tuned as hnyinloun-tuning. Another example, “dalu,” is played C-E*-B* in this tuning. These three tones are also next to each other on the harp strings, though their scale is not next to each other. In this way, bazat-hsaing is based on the specific instrument’s structure and tuning systems. Bazat-hsaing is more appropriate for the hnyinloun-tuning system because bazat-hsaing is originally based on this oldest scale. The newer tuning systems such as aukpyan, pale and myinzain have different scale structures and string constructions on the harp, so some bazat-hsaing is difficult to use for them. Hnyinlountuning’s octave consists of five strings such as C-E*FG-B*C while the pale-tuning consists of CD-FG-B*C. For example, “dalu” is C-E*-B* which are next to each other on hnyinloun-tuning as I mentioned above. However, in pale-tuning, it cannot be played because those three strings on pale-tunings are tuned as C-DB*. Teaching Method for the Harp Bazat-hsaing is sometimes the main method for transmitting music, and sometimes it is a supplementary method. The basic teaching method of Burmese instruments is to demonstrate for pupils and have them imitate. Pupils gradually understand bazat-hsaing as they listen to their teacher singing bazat-hsaing during demonstration of the instrument. Here, I will describe how my teacher, Daw Khin May teaches harp to her pupils. She usually teaches orally, using bazat-hsaing. If she wants to follow her husband’s notations or she forgets the song, she refers those notations, however she teaches orally to her pupils (see Figure 1). Figure 1. Teaching harp orally, 23rd Sep. 2010. (Photo by author) If she finds it easier, she teaches by playing the harp by herself. The pupil learns by listening to her playing and looking at her fingering. Skillful pupils can imitate the music just by listening. There are no fixed methods of teaching. She teaches appropriately based on a pupil’s skill or based 40 ORAL TRANSMISSION SYSTEM OF BURMESE CLASSICAL SONGS: OVERVIEW OF BAZAT-HSAING OR MOUTH-MUSIC on the situation. Daw Khin May sometimes teaches only by bazat-hsaing from a distance when she is doing household tasks. The important thing is that bazat-hsaing is sung with melodies like singing a song. So pupils can catch the notes and phrases from the bazat-hsaing if they do not understand the exact definition of each bazathsaing words. Common and Personal Bazat-Hsaing Daw Khin May uses her personal bazat-hsaing mixed with common bazat-hsaing. She said she sings bazathsaing as she likes and it is okay because her pupils understand what she indicates through her bazat-hsaing. She also said other musicians can understand her system. From this, we can know there are common bazathsaing and personal bazat-hsaing. Bazat-hsaing represents important tones, chords, and small phrases that occur frequently. There remain some notes that cannot be represented by bazat-hsaing. The teachers or players indicate such parts by appropriate ways such as singing a song or using Western note names. The common bazat-hsaing system enables musicians to understand some personal or improvisational bazat-hsaing words. Bazat-hsaing shows the frame of the song, and other notes will be mastered in association with common bazat-hsaing or purely through memorization. Conclusion Bazat-hsaing vocalization is the main method of transmitting instrumental parts of Burmese classical songs. It can transmit almost all of the music, however there remain some notes and phrases that cannot be transmitted by bazat-hsaing. Bazat-hsaing is complemented by singing with melodies and by musician’s personal bazat-hsaing. Bazat-hsaing is not a complete correspondence with all notes; however, we can tell that basic playing techniques are transmitted through bazat-hsaing, and it enables us to memorize other notes that have no bazat-hsaing. What remains to be seen is the system that musicians can understand each other when some bazat-hsaing is not common. This is a future subject I wish to explore. Endnotes 1 This research was supported by JSPS KAKENHI Grant Number JP18K01191. This research is based on my field study at Yangon University of Culture from 1999 to 2001 and annual field trips to Mandalay from 2007 to 2018. I have studied harp playing from Daw Khin May in Mandalay. 3 The table is based on my field work and referring to Shoon Myaing (2004)’s explanation (pp. 15-18). 2 References Shoon Myaing, K. (2004). Mahagita Myanmar classics. Yangon: Youn Kyi Gyet Sapei. Williamson, M. C. (2000). The Burmese harp: Its classical music, tunings, and modes. Illinois: Center for Southeast Asian Studies, Northern Illinois University. 41 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA PICHET KLUNCHUN’S SITE-SPECIFIC MONKEYS: A METHODOLOGICAL MONOLOGUE (Lightning Paper) Leow Puay Tin Sunway University, Malaysia We love to see good performances. We enjoy it as we watch. And afterwards, we feel good. Once in a while, we see a great performance that grabs and pulls us right in, which goes paaang inside and makes our hairs stand shuuuk—a momentous work of art. As my friend Anis, a performance researcher, put it: “A work of art really knocks you, it makes you think. That’s what a work of art does. It makes the audience say ‘What on earth are you trying to do? Because you are pulling me, you know, I want to go back home but you are pulling me.’ [But as they say this, they cannot lift their eyes away.] ‘What the fuck are you trying to say? Shit! Shit! What is this! Oh my god, shit! It’s about… Penang! Ah…’” (Leow, 2014). Paaang! Shuuuk! I want to see performances like that all the time. But how to make them? There is no recipe for that, I know, but can we improve on our chances of producing performances that have that kind of magnetic effect on the heart and mind? In 2013 I organized a workshop for seven artist friends to learn research methods from Anis— Professor Mohd Anis Md Nor of Universiti Malaya—from December 19th to 21st, at my university, Sunway. He showed us how to write a research proposal which I later adapted into a creative project proposal for my students to use, built around a core question ‘What do you want to investigate?’ It’s difficult to answer but you need to get it clear first before you start your project or you’ll find yourself struggling with a tangle of messy ideas. Anis used the octopus as a metaphor for this problem: “You have an octopus and you are trying to can the octopus and you can’t can it because when you put the head in, the tentacles come out. You keep on trying to twist the can but you can’t can it, so you kena chop it or swallow the bloody octopus like the Koreans do. Because the idea for your project is a ‘fused’ idea” (Leow, 2014). Anis made research seem like an adventure where you step into the unknown fascinating world of trance and Thaipusam, of zapin being danced all through the night in a kampung in Johore, of living in a communitas with transgender housemates. His teaching stories were thick and juicy. They became my material for a monologue called Cakap Dapur (‘Kitchen Talk’). Why monologue? Usually research materials are presented as academic papers. But I am a playwright and I prefer to use the material to make a text for performance instead. Why? I want the stories and facts to come alive and be transmitted through performance. I want them to get to people who are interested in seeing and making performance. In 2017, I was very lucky to get a six-month grant from the Japan Foundation Asia Center to go to Japan to look at site-specific performances. Why site-specific? I wanted to find and learn from examples of great performances where the research was related to pre-selected sites, to actual places where the starting point was concrete, external and real. On the last day of September, I saw something that was out of this world. It was the opening show for the Festival/Tokyo 2017. A site-specific dance-drama called Toky Toki Saru1 (‘Tokyo Time Monkeys’). It was a Saturday night and the place was packed with people. Figure 1. Toky Toki Saru. Minami Ikebukuro Park, Tokyo, 30 September 2017. (Photo by the author) 42 PICHET KLUNCHUN’S SITE-SPECIFIC MONKEYS: A METHODOLOGICAL MONOLOGUE A deejay is spinning dance-inducing club music. People are relaxing on the grass around a low sprawling stage, enjoying the music and watching 20 dancers in fantastic monkey costumes and head-masks taking turns to showcase short performances in between fooling around off-stage with white ropes and bursting white balloons. Kids climb onto the stage to do whatever they like and no one stops them. After a while, the Monkey dancers manage to get people, grown-ups, to go onstage to be their partners. Oh, shaits, audience participation! Nice, though, to see people who are game for it—like the man in a suit, a teenager, two people in wheelchairs, an old woman in kimono, a glamorous woman, a body builder type and even a policeman! I see him hesitating before putting away his walkie-talkie. He joins the other awkward volunteers who are kind of ‘dance-playing’ with the Monkeys, twirling and swinging ropes and being bound with ropes by the Monkeys and so on. Before long, the Monkeys are taking off their masks and surreptitiously putting them onto their partners and running away! Shaits! What’s happening! More kids rush up and climb onto the stage to have a closer look. My heart is beating faster. Some of the people onstage are confused, touching their masks, some are groping about, but gradually the bolder ones begin to perform and show off. What is the director doing! Is he really allowing the people to do whatever they want? It’s so exciting, messy, and worrying. As it’s sliding into chaos, a woman in white appears. The Monkeys are called back and get their masks put back on by the people. She gives them, the people, a white balloon each to contemplate. Looks like order is being restored but some Monkeys don’t like it. The Monkey wearing a police costume charges at my Policeman who has to look out for the kids onstage as he tackles the bad animal. Then, shaits, another surprise! He begins to train the Monkey, showing him how to stand properly and salute! The others teach their Monkeys how to sit, kneel, bow, shake hands, and so on. It’s playful and sobering at the same time, and then the spell breaks. The people walk off, leaving their Monkeys behind, melting back into the audience as a beautiful song comes on: “You know I can’t take away your pain/ And I know it’ll never be the same/ All I want to do is explain/ That I wouldn’t change a thing if we did it all again…” (Breaker-Morant, 2017). Walking on air, I introduced myself to the director Pichet Klunchun to ask for an interview. He said ok, Monday (October 2nd), at the park café. Great! I went again to watch the next show on a hot bright Sunday afternoon. Without lighting effects, and, despite already knowing that my Policeman and the other ‘volunteers’ were actors, I found it just as moving as the night before and went home to write a rave review for the Arts Equator: “[B]eyond capturing the feel-good mood required of a festival opening show, the performance was simultaneously an entertaining show for all ages, a social drama with a commentary about society (which is as relevant to Tokyo as to other cities), a pop parable, and also a kind of public ritual to invoke and quell the Monkeys in our midst through a rite of enactment” (Leow, 2017). Three years ago, in Penang, we sit together at a reception dinner and he is behind me. His manager says, “This is Pichet Klunchun.” And he looks at me and he says, “Hi, nice to meet you. I’ve heard your name before but haven’t seen your face.” “Yes, hi.” Then he gives me his card and says, “I want to talk to you about my festival.” And I say, “Yes, yes, ahuh.” Then he starts to invite me to come to Japan. Ahuh. “Pichet, people know you—you are about tradition—and your work, it combines tradition and the contemporary. But I want people to see something unexpected from you. This is one of my questions: how to change your image with this production.” This has a big effect on me, like, wow, ahuh, it’s a very interesting idea. Pichet said the original plan for his show involved closing the streets for a parade, after which the parade would become a performance. Discussions took two years and finally it was decided to drop the parade and hold the performance at a park in up-market Ikebukuro. We [artists] are trying to talk about art. But [ordinary] people don’t understand art, and so we don’t have [an] audience. We [stay inside] the small box, [the theatre,] just the same group of people and we do shows and we watch one another’s shows again and again and again. [We don’t think of moving] the performance to the people. Pichet came from Bangkok to check out the site, to get a “feeling” of the park. “It’s a park for the family. People take their kids here, and they are just lying down and relaxing in the park.” With this critical information in hand, he was now ready to develop the work: “I wanted to talk about today-time Tokyo.” He 43 LEOW PUAY TIN got a grant to stay in Tokyo for two weeks which he spent watching people walking in five parts of the city. It was instructive to see how his observations generated a web of ideas for story, costumes, choreography, music, stage design and so on. My research topic is about people walking in Tokyo. Why people walk very fast and what’s the difference in the different parts. The conventional image of people in Tokyo is the businessman and teenager. [But the city has] disabled people, wheelchair people, people like body builders, fashion models, old men and young. They are here because this is the city. Tokyo is a city of the old and the new combined together. If you go to the Ueno area, you’ll see temples and people staying in houses made of wood. But if you are here or you go to the Shibuya area, it’s very fashionable, very modern, a young generation. All this becomes material for my work. Tokyo is a very survival city, very developed, smart and intellectual. And I start to develop a small concept about the Tokyo people—they have lost their self-awareness because of the city. That’s why I have created a production about giving back self-awareness to the people in the city. I go to the Buddhist concept of the body and mind. I use actors to represent the people of Tokyo. [They are the real people from Tokyo, we get them from an open call.] The Monkey dancers represent the mind of the people. The monkey is also a part of us. We are relatives. And the balloon is self-awareness. We start the performance with the Monkeys to make the concept become more concrete. The first 30, 40 minutes is like entertainment, performance by the Monkey dancers, and fun. And later and later, oh my god, it becomes deeper and deeper, when the Monkey dancers take the actors—they look like ordinary people—from the audience to the stage, and put their monkey masks on them and run away. Yes, that was a very strong moment. I choose the choreographers based on the monkey technique, [Rady] from Cambodia, [Padung] Thailand, [Alisa] Indonesia, and [Janet] Hongkong. [Each one has four dancers under them.] When you look at their choreographies, you’ll see the development of the monkey technique and body, [from natural monkey to classical monkey to pop animal and hip-hop.] It’s like Tokyo. If from Ueno you go to Shibuya, it’s like going from the old to the new. That’s why I place the dancers on different parts of the stage to represent the idea of the city. Figure 2. A monkey costume. (Photo by the author) Piyaporn is the costume designer. For example, for the body builder [Monkey], she creates a King Kong costume. And for the supermodel [Monkey], the costume is very beautiful with a long scarf. My request is that she uses materials that are reflective. It should be like glass or something bling bling bling. So if people come close to the dancers, they can see their own face on the costumes. I am looking for a deejay. A deejay like a deejay in a club, very connected to people. Back in Bangkok I send an email to my friend. “You know some deejay who can play this kind of music, very 44 PICHET KLUNCHUN’S SITE-SPECIFIC MONKEYS: A METHODOLOGICAL MONOLOGUE nightclub, who can understand dance?” And he says, “OK, I have one deejay. He is doing the club scene with dancers.” So I go there at 11pm. Basically 11pm for me is asleep already—11pm, the club is not open yet. I wait outside. The club is half of this café, very small. And some people come and sit in front of the club. They look very teenager. They wear hats. They wear costumes like dancers. Like hip-hop dancers. I go inside and have one drink. Cola. And then some of them come in and they dance a little, like four to five minutes, and then they go out. And other dancers come and dance a little bit and they go out. And I say, “What are they doing?” This is like an opening scene. They are showing off and they all have their own techniques. They show off one by one, and later they come more and more and more and the club becomes packed. And suddenly one guy just takes the mic and he does rap. He raps and he raps and he raps in English, he raps in Thai and he raps in Italian. And then all the teenagers dance and do the show-off on the floor. And I say, “What is this? I never know you have this. Maybe I am old now.” Rory acts like he is very free being the deejay. And I enjoy very much, and later we start to talk. Yes, the Japanese may not understand English but you see all the songs we use are pop songs. People can connect to it because they hear it everywhere. It may not be as deep as it is for people who can understand English but they can feel it. Sometimes when you see a conceptual work, you think it is very easy to do. For example, using the non-dancer. But, for the choreographer, do you know how many years he will try to work with that concept? Maybe 20 years. Maybe more than 20 years. Everything you learn from school, from university, is not you. It is just a repetition from previous choreographers. I think I became a choreographer only the last two years. And this year, and with this production, I call myself a ‘director’. All this time, I have called myself a dancer, a dancer, a dancer. And I am still a dancer because I go on stage. I feel very happy these two days. People smile, people enjoy, people have fun. Many people talk to me. [Not like in the theatre where] people are like shut down and [their] face is like very angry sometimes, or curious. They keep quiet. It has become a big question of mine: which group of the audience should we connect with or develop? Acknowledgements Deep thanks to Pichet and Anis for allowing me to use some things they have said to make a text for performance. Endnote 1 https://www.artscouncil-tokyo.jp/en/events/23054/ References Breaker-Morant, R. (2017). Toky Toki Saru OST. [SoundCloud] Retrieved from https://soundcloud.com/ rory-morant/sets/toky-toki-saru-ost-2017S Leow, P. T. (Writer), & Chee, S. T. (Director). (2014, February 5-8). Cakap dapur: R&d stories. Live performance in Damansara Performing Arts Centre, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia. Leow, P. T. (2017, November 1). Tikam-tikam Japan: Site-specific monkeys by Pichet Klunchun. Arts Equator. Retrieved from https://artsequator.com/pichet-klunchun-tokyo-monkeys/ 45 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA PHLENG TANYONG: A THAI-LANGUAGE RONGGENG IDIOM DEVELOPS IN SOUTHWEST THAILAND Lawrence N. Ross University of Malaya, Malaysia This marks my third presentation on the topic of ronggeng for a PASEA symposium. The first was at our inaugural Singapore meeting in Singapore in 2010 where I discussed extant popular Malay repertoires found in Thailand. At our third meeting in Denpasar, four years ago, I focused on the roles of orang laut (Orak Lawoi), also in Thailand, acting as “cultural honeybees” to pollenate ronggeng around the region. For this paper, our fifth meeting, I look at transformations that took place after ronggeng crossed the border and settled in Thailand. I begin with ronggeng in Penang, the largest urban settlement in the vicinity of the Thai border. Twentieth-century Malayan ronggeng can be understood as a fascinating mix of various elements of music and dance. It borrowed from old and new sources; encompassed the cosmopolitan, the traditional, and the commercial; the local and the global. Its incubators were places like Penang: the urban settlements along the Straits of Melaka, where people of different backgrounds and nationalities mingled. Early-twentieth century ronggeng was a popular, commercial phenomenon. I’ll call it “paradigmatic”, because it became a model for the plethora of contemporaneous styles that popped-up around the Malay-speaking world. Ronggeng can have several meanings: one refers to a specific dance rhythm with a medium-to-fast two-step dance with tuplet divisions (synonymous joget). It could also refer to a ronggeng occasion, in which a variety of dance rhythms and tunes might be played: Malay ronggeng, slow asli, and inang; Middle-Eastern zapin and masri; ballroom fox trots; Latin American rumba, mambo, and cha-cha. Ronggeng tunes, sung by leading bangsawan and film actors of the day. And could be heard on the radio, on gramophone discs, or at amusement parks. A ronggeng dance might be held on a pentas ronggeng (ronggeng stage) or in a kelab ronggeng (ronggeng club), where male patrons would enter the dance floor at the first strains of a violin melody, and, after paying a token fee, choose a dance partner from a row of seated puteri ronggeng (female dancers for hire). Male and female dance partners then gencok (a local idiom for “dance”), while they berbalas pantun (exchange stanzas of lyrical poetry), using oblique poetic allusions to mask an elaborate series of courtship inquiries. After several minutes, when the song reached its conclusion, partners then bow briefly to each other, the men leave the floor, and the dancers would then return to their chairs to await the next round. The Model that Carried into Thailand One remarkable thing about ronggeng is how it travelled widely and absorbed local features along the way. We see this in jazz, hip-hop, and the blues; ronggeng just happens to be a more regional phenomenon. In the case of the Andaman Coast, the local features it accrued were vestiges of earlier popular entertainments, two specifically. Ronggeng drew repertoire and style from a localized form of makyong called makyong laut and a Thai-language folk theater called like pa. And just as ronggeng inherited from its predecessors, we may find vestiges of ronggeng in popular trends until today. I just sketch out a general movement, traveling from urban to rural to rural to rural. Its story over subsequent decades was one of a contemporary form of popular entertainment becoming a folk tradition. It travelled like a refined product: forged from imported and domestic sources in the multi-ethnic port settlements, and then carried into the hinterlands. In the case of southwestern Thailand that I examine here, the phenomenon grew from Penang and migrated northward. It passed through the rice bowl of Malaya, Kedah and Perlis, and then island-hopped the Andaman Sea Coast to Phuket. This was a well-worn path for trade and communications, populated by Malays, orang laut “sea people,” and Siamese. The same paths that ronggeng travelled were trail-blazed by earlier folk theatres like those mentioned earlier, and ronggeng transformed by drawing from their melodies, dance styles, and sonic aesthetics. In the 1930s and ’40s it localized into several discrete sub-genres: 1) In Perlis and Satun it became known as canggung, more rancak or ‘lively’ than the lembut (smooth) Penang ronggeng. 2) Further north, ronggeng is said to have first taken root in the Malay fishing villages of Lanta Island, beginning with the arrival of an itinerant violinist and dancers from Malaya. Soon after their arrival, 46 PHLENG TANYONG: A THAI-LANGUAGE RONGGENG IDIOM DEVELOPS IN SOUTHWEST THAILAND stories tell of a flowering of local players, who played nightly rong ngeng sessions that became famous around the region (note the different spelling), and who then made trips to perform on neighbouring islands and the mainland. 3) On the mainland, they spread rong ngeng on foot, walking from village to village to play for tips, food, and a place to sleep. As with all the previous migrations of ronggeng, locals, beginning in the villages of the mangrove-fringed coastline, took it up, and made it theirs, creating for the first time a Thai-language genre of ronggeng, which became known as tanyong or phleng tanyong (tanyong song). A Postwar Divergence between Ronggeng Styles and Repertoires in Malaya and Thailand In the 1950s, the length of the ronggeng | changgong | rong ngeng | phleng tanyong continuum, stretching from Penang to Phuket, experienced a heyday of sorts. Some distinctions begin to develop between Malayan and Thailand styles and repertoires. Urban ronggeng in Malaya, grew in tandem with bangsawan theatre prior to the war. After the war, it continued this relationship with the film industry. Film tunes began to enter the repertoires of rural performing groups (dance groups, wedding groups, ghazal pati). In southwest Thailand at that point, however, there was no urban commercial form of ronggeng: no gramophone recordings were being made, nor was there a local film industry. In addition, the flow of popular culture from Malaya, across the border into Thailand, diminished as the post-revolutionary Thai government was more concerned with disseminating their homogenous notions of national culture. Though these policies didn’t have much effect upon the southwestern margins, the door between them and their Malayan neighbours became less open than previously. Ronggeng music in Thailand became more insular, and phleng tanyong, in particular, experienced several important changes: the number of local melodies in the repertoire grew; and imported ronggeng/bangsawan tunes that were introduced from the islands began to sound quite different, either that or they were not adopted widely as part of the core song repertoire. The social roles and meanings of Andaman Coast rong ngeng in the 1940s and ’50s developed interesting contrasts with Malayan ronggeng. Unlike in Malaya where ronggeng performers and patrons viewed as mildly to strongly iniquitous, in Thailand rong ngeng became a rite of passage for many Muslim girls of that era. In previous research I have documented many of their lives and careers, when they danced and sang rong ngeng professionally, and travelled during their teenage years (i.e., prior to marriage) with village troupes. Many subsequently married men of high status, such as government officials or men of relative wealth. Localizations in Phleng Tanyong At this point, I will highlight some of the more salient localizations that have given phleng tanyong its distinctive character. If we first compare island rong ngeng with the changgong of Perlis, the differences in their repertoires and styles seem quite subtle. On the other hand, phleng tanyong, though it shares tunes with island rong ngeng, is noticeably different. Its innovations can be traced to a handful of performers who had provided a bridge between Malay- and Thai-speaking communities during the post-war heyday. Their innovations included: 1) Incorporating melodies not found in Malayan ronggeng, but which drew from local lullabies, and the music and dances of regional folk theatres, makyong laut and like pa. These may be characterized as having simple melodies (typically simpler than their counterparts from Malayan popular song), often in two even sections, with contrasting pitch levels, and the two sections having similar contours. 2) Singing lyrics in a highly idiomatic mix of southwestern Thai and northwestern Peninsular Malay dialects, and in a poetic form that differs from the ‘a-b-a-b’ end-rhyme scheme of ronggeng. Instead, they developed phleng tanyong as a variation of the Thai klon, linking lines and stanzas through internal rhymes. 3) Creating lyrical stanzas extemporaneously that could be sung to any phleng tanyong melody. They begin by citing a name of flower or tree, and create rhymes from that name. In the process, they weave subtle courtship inquiries. 47 LAWRENCE N. ROSS Present Day Skipping ahead to the present century. Ronggeng, in all its forms, began to decline in the 1960s, due to reasons that anyone who has studied mid-twentieth century musical trends in this region would recognize: there appeared newer, more appealing commercial styles, often transmitted through less participatory forms of entertainment, such as radio, TV, and cinema. Islamic conservatism was also a major factor in the decline of ronggeng, as it was with other local performing arts, as I discussed in my 2016 PASEA paper. Things began to turn around about fifteen years ago with the revival of interest in the few remaining rong ngeng groups that had survived. At that point, the types of groups extant could be divided into two styles: traditional (sometimes called rong ngeng ton cabap: original text), and modern (thansamai), according to the performers’ own classifications. Both play pretty much the same repertoires; they really just contrast in aesthetic styles and contexts and occasions in which they perform. Traditional revival groups, whether singing in Malay or Thai, perform it as an expression of their Muslim and Andaman Coast Thai identity. Traditional dress is an important way they emphasize that identity. They are older performers who generally play for cultural shows. Aesthetically, the art of ronggeng lives on in its revival, in the traditional dress, and in the way that the repertoire has become narrowed to a few canonical tunes and dances. However, these are staged performances, which no longer provide occasions for social mixing and meeting partners, as they were generations ago. To find the ronggeng that provides a social gathering for young people, one must look for the style that is disparaged today as immoral. (Morality crept in during the 1970s. Sadly, within the same Andaman Coast Muslim communities where ronggeng was born and became popular). The thansamai style is still found at weddings and other occasions in villages and small towns. Aesthetically, it has adopted a great deal from popular Thai entertainment, particularly in the sexy costumes worn by the dancers. Sometimes the live ronggeng band alternates with a DJ, with the dancers performing as paid taxi dancers for both, and the scene can be quite raucous. There are many directions to take this discussion. Ronggeng provides a rich area to examine how performing arts change as they travel. It is especially so because of the different changes that took place within a relatively small geographical area: i.e., the coast between Penang and Phuket. In the cases of ronggeng/rong ngeng/phleng tanyong, transformations resulted as they traversed different languages, national borders, religious groups, and levels of development (e.g., village to town to city). The historical evidence I have collected demonstrates the path of its movements, and thus how each station left its own distinctive mark, not just in the northward journey from Malaya to Siam, but also in cultural gradations that accompany the movement from sea (island) to shore (mangrove coast and beach) to riverine communities, and over a longer diachronic period, as the region experienced modernizations and social transformations. 48 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA RONGGENG RE-INVENTED: THE EMERGENCE OF NEW REPERTOIRES FROM SINGAPORE TO PENINSULAR MALAYSIA Mohd Anis Md Nor Nusantara Performing Arts Research Center, Malaysia Prologue Pentas ronggeng (ronggeng dance stage), amusement parks, and bangsawan (Malay opera) popular in the 1930s and 1940s, played important roles in popularising ronggeng among the urban Malays in Malaya and Singapore. Ronggeng dance stages staffed with taxi dancers or dance hostesses became permanent fixtures in amusement parks in Penang, Kuala Lumpur, and Singapore, whilst mobile ronggeng ensembles plied between villages and towns to provide social dancing at weddings and other social functions. Bangsawan theatre utilised ronggeng repertoires within the bangsawan plays or in vaudeville-like intermissions between plays called extra-turns. Through the growing popularity of the bangsawan theatre in the 1930s-1940s, dance choreographers in bangsawan theatres re-invented new choreographies from the ronggeng dance cycle of asli, inang and joget tunes for bangsawan plays or extra-turns. In the 1950s and 1960s, Malay movies and cinema networks in Malaya and Singapore presented new dance repertoires from re-invented ronggeng derived art dances to serve new musical impressions, sung and danced by famous movie stars and chorus lines on the silver screens. Indian movie directors from India who introduced Indian stories and plots into Malay movies combined newly created ronggeng-derived art dance with new musical arrangements and songs, hitherto changing the course of ronggeng from a social dance into derivative arts dances. Challenged by the robust film industry, ronggeng as a social dance and music genre eventually faded away as a passé tradition with the eventual demise of amusement parks in the early 1960s. New ronggeng derived art dance invented in the Malay movies during the 1960s became trendy amongst Malay dance organisations in Singapore and Malaya, paving the way for the creation of specific art dance repertoires derived from the older ronggeng social dance cycle. The trendier art dance repertoires and musical arrangements became the foundation for the creation of “national” art dance by the National Culture Centre (Pusat Kebudayaan Kebangsaan) after its formation in Jalan Ampang, Kuala Lumpur, in 1964. Repertoires of newly created “national” Malay art dance from the National Cultural Centre were effectively imitated nation-wide in the 1970s through roadshows, dance competitions, and TV shows, promoted by the Ministry of Information and Communication (Kementerian Penerangan dan Penyiaran) and the Ministry of Culture and Social Welfare (Kementerian Kebudayaan dan Kebajikan Sosial). Renamed as Kompleks Budaya Negara or National Cultural Complex in 1971 and relocated to Jalan Tun Ismail in Kuala Lumpur, the operatives of the old National Cultural Centre continued under the administration of the Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sports to became the foremost authority on Malay dance and music, glossing over the older ronggeng social dance cycle with ronggeng derivative “national” art dances. The 1970s marked a turning point in Malay dance when repertories from the older ronggeng dance cycle were supplanted by new “national” art dances with specific dance repertoires. Ronggeng Dance Cycle Traditional ronggeng is conventionally performed in cycles of dance repertoires, namely the asli, inang, and joget. The three dance repertoires in each ronggeng dance cycle is accompanied by the ronggeng ensemble consisting of the one violinist, an accordionist, two rebana drummers and a knobbed gong player, performing the asli or senandung, inang, and tandak or joget tunes in succession. A ronggeng dance cycle would begin with an asli dance performed to the asli or senandung tunes (as it is known in North Sumatera, Indonesia), characterised by the curling and flexing of the fingers while the dancers move in a slow, walking motion. The asli tune is identified by an eight-beat phrase in 4/4 time. The dance has a fixed first four-beat phrase walking (pedestrian) pattern while the second four-beat phrase is usually improvised by side-footsteps and bending of arms and curling-flexing fingers. The fourth and the eighth beats are accented at the end by the knobbed gong. This repertoire may also be called senandung or gunung sayang (love lullaby).1 The second dance in the ronggeng dance cycle is inang consisting of a variation of the 4/4 beat pattern of walking steps in either relatively slow or fast tempo, accompanied by inang tunes, and accented 49 MOHD ANIS MD NOR by the knobbed gong. Dancers face one another while making turns and dancing in a circular path around each other while tracking lineal floor plan within single lines of male and female dancers.2 The third and final dance of the ronggeng dance cycle is the tandak or joget, which is also known as lagu dua in northern Sumatera and southwest Thailand. It is performed to a relatively fast-paced joget or lagu dua tune, danced in duple or triple beat. In contrast to the inang walking motions, the joget consist of quick steps interspersed with successive skips and hops with dancers dancing opposite each other flirtatiously but never touching one another.3 Today, pockets of ronggeng groups performing the ronggeng dance cycle are still found in Kedah, Penang, and Malacca entertaining visitors at weddings and other feasts. At these gatherings the ronggeng female entertainers dance with the male guests, and the music is provided by the ronggeng ensemble. Singing is done by special singers and not by the dancers themselves. Today, the ronggeng tunes such as the asli, inang and joget are also performed by pop bands, the orchestra of Radio and Television Malaysia (RTM) and by symphony orchestra. (Matusky & Tan, 2017, p. 300) The following chart shows the list of some of the ronggeng tunes played today. Asli/Senandung 1. Makan Sireh 2. Tudung Periuk 3. Mas Merah 4. Seri Mersing 5. Kuala Deli 6. Bunga Tanjung 7. Sayang Musalmah 8. Siti Payung 9. Pasir Roboh 10. Seri Banang 11. Seri Sarawak 12. Seri Siantan 13. Tudung Saji 14. Damak (Mawarku, 2018) Inang 1. Sambut Kasih 2. Mak Inang Pulau Kampai 3. Mak Inang Kayangan 4. Pak Malau 5. Dodoi di Dodoi 6. Cik Minah Sayang 7. Pucuk Pisang 8. Lengang Kangkung 9. Timang Burung 10. Canggung Joget/Lagu Dua 1. Serampang Laut 2. Johor Sport Club 3. Joget Pahang 4. Rentak Seratus Enam 5. Tanjung Katong 6. Hitam Manis 7. Jingkling Nona 8. Selayang Pandang Pentas Ronggeng (Ronggeng Dance Stage) in Malaya and Singapore (1930s-1940s) Urban amusement parks in the 1930s-1940s became venues for the commercialisation of Malay social dances, advocating ronggeng dance performed by patron-dancers who purchased tickets or coupons in order to dance with one or several dance hostesses or taxi dancers. Social dancing between male patrons and female taxi dancers contributed to the processes of change in Malay social dances when ronggeng developed newer or trendier performance styles in urban centres. Amusement parks were first established in Singapore in the early 1930s. The three major entertainment parks in Singapore—the Happy World, the Great World, and the New World—were owned by local Chinese investors. Amusement parks offered food stalls, bangsawan stages, Chinese operas, cinemas, magic shows, gambling stalls, cabarets, and ronggeng dance stages—the last two being available in every park. The amusement parks occupied fairly large tracts of land in order to house all the different forms of public entertainment. They were open in the evenings and attracted large numbers of urban workers. The amusement parks charged patrons basic entrance fees at the main gates and solicited rental fees from all the stall owners and entertainment companies which provided services in the parks. The success of the three amusement parks in Singapore led to the opening of entertainment parks in the Malay Peninsula such as the Fun and Frolic Amusement Park, the Wembley, and the New World in Penang; while Kuala Lumpur had the Great Eastern Ltd., Hollywood Park, and the Bukit Bintang Park; Malacca had the City Park; and Ipoh had the Grand Jubilee Park.4 Ronggeng taxi dancers or penari ronggeng (ronggeng dancers) were paid fixed monthly salaries by their respective employers. The dancers also received a certain percentage from the sale of dance coupons.5 50 RONGGENG RE-INVENTED: THE EMERGENCE OF NEW REPERTOIRES FROM SINGAPORE TO PENINSULAR MALAYSIA The popularity of each dancer on stage determined the amount of money that she earned each night. Being professional dancers, they were expected to be well groomed, to dress beautifully, and to wear attractive facial make-up.6 Katherine Sim, the wife of a British expatriate, described the appearance of the ronggeng dancers: The four dancing girls, their full lips scarlet, their faces pale powdered masks and their eyes enormous with kohl were already doing the first slow steps of the dance. They each wore long heavy silk jackets fitting to the waist and outlining the hips, over flowered sarongs; gold necklaces over their high stiff collars and gold anklets round their bare ankles. Their black hair was done in a large knot at the back of the head, encircled with heavily scented white flowers, while each wore a single pink flower tucked coquettishly behind one ear. The colours of their clothes were apple green, magenta pink and orange. (Sim, 1946, p. 52) In spite of their appearance on stage and their willingness to dance with any men who had purchased coupons, the taxi dancers were forbidden to touch or be touched by their patron-dancers. The men had to execute their steps with the dance hostesses within the ronggeng dance cycles of asli/senandung, inang, and joget/tandak/lagu dua. The ethics of Malay social dancing were upheld by the avoidance of body contact between men and women. The holding of hands, permissible in Western ballroom dancing, was considered improper. Ronggeng dancers and the patron-dancers were, however, allowed to dance close to one another, occasionally ‘cutting out’ back and forth in weaving pattern: The steps of the Ronggeng dancer are little more than a rhythmic shuffle which becomes more difficult and intricate as the music grows faster. There is a system of ‘cutting out’ the men which gives an appearance of the girls’ line weaving through the men’s line, each always taking great care not to touch the other. (Sim, 1946, p. 53) The ronggeng dance stage also served as the appropriate place for the patron-dancers to carry on long conversations with their favourite dance hostess as they would usually purchase wads of dance coupons to enable them to dance several rounds together, uninterrupted by other patron-dancers. The establishment of pentas ronggeng (ronggeng dance stage), cabarets, and dance halls and the employment of taxi dancers in these establishments in the urban amusement parks not only facilitated public dancing but also established new trends of performing the ronggeng dance tradition. Taxi dancers and their instructors created new dance formations with new motifs and styles in order to ensure continued interest from patron-dancers, eventually creating larger repertoires within the ronggeng dance cycle. Ronggeng in Bangsawan and Malay Movies (1950s-1960s) The growing popularity of the bangsawan theatre after the Second World War led to the demand for better dance performances in the main stories and intervals between plays known as extra-turns. Rising musicians and dancers, and experienced and well-known bangsawan performers took part in the extra-turns. The extraturns were as important as the main bangsawan drama and musicals in attracting and ensuring continuing patronage of the bangsawan theatre. The need for more varied dance repertoires in the bangsawan theatre forced dance choreographers to seek new ideas and create new dances to accompany the stories. The dances choreographed for the bangsawan had to add visual impact to the glamour and drama of the bangsawan story. Bangsawan dancers and choreographers such as Osman Gumanti, Normadiah, Minah Yem, Minah B., Ainon Chik, Zaharah Agus, and husband-and-wife ronggeng teams used ronggeng repertoires as their creative base to create new dance choreographies.7 Repertoires from asli, inang, and joget in the ronggeng dance cycle were re-invented with dance properties with new names associated with the dance props used. Scarfs (sapu tangan), saucers (piring), umbrellas (payung), food covers (tudung saji), and head covers (terendak), were respectively named for the new dances: tari saputangan (scarf dance with asli and inang tunes), tari piring (saucer dance with asli and inang tunes), tari payung (umbrella dance with inang and joget tunes), and new dances combining a series of three tunes (tiga serangkai). These choreographies migrated into the Malay movies in the 1950s and 1960s when Malay films retained all the elements of the bangsawan theatre tradition—music, dances, songs, dialogue, and comedy— except for the extra-turns. Extra-turns were not required in film-making since it was not necessary to provide entertainment during set changes. Dances from the extra-turns, however, were incorporated into movies as 51 MOHD ANIS MD NOR part of the song-and-dance sequences. The inclusion of songs and dances between pieces of dialogue in the Malay movies were due to the influence of Hindustani movies. The production of Malay movies and, in particular, film-making techniques themselves had a significant impact on ronggeng. Cutting and editing of dance scenes in film-making required producers to use many different camera angles to produce multiperspective shots of dance performances during songs resulting in the splicing the different camera takes of a single dance repertoire into a collage of dance motives that dazzled movie-goers. Fascination with Malay art dances from ronggeng repertoires in the early years of Malay film-making laid the foundations for a growing awareness in Malay society of the versatility of ronggeng in creating new dances. The 1950s and 1960s also saw an abundance of popular periodicals on Malay movies, fashion, and other public entertainment. Movie stars and singers were the focus of the news media. Songs and dances performed by movie stars and singers in the Malay movies were replicated in school concerts and talent shows all over the country. New dance crazes, which developed at the night spots of the bigger cities such as Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, and Penang became popular with the public. This was the period when the new art dance derived from ronggeng became nationally known and performed throughout Malaya and Singapore.8 The transfer of ronggeng and new art dances from the amusement parks to Malay movies were seamless since film companies owned some of the amusement parks. Malay Film Arts Production (MFP) operated by Shaw Brothers Company, owned the three major entertainment parks in Singapore and several others in Malaya.9 Following the success of MFP, two Chinese entrepreneurs, Ho Ah Loke and Loke Wan Tho, set up Cathay Kris Film Production in 1951 to produce more Malay films for the Malay-SingaporeIndonesia market. Ho Ah Loke, who owned Rimau Film Production, and Loke Wan Tho, the millionaire owner of Cathay Company, already owned cinemas in almost all the big towns in Malaya and Singapore.10 Cathay Kris went into full operation at the East Coast Road studio in Singapore. By 1952, Shaw Brothers’ MFP and Cathay Kris were the only film companies in Singapore that were financially successful. They had a monopoly over Malay movie production in Malaya and Singapore. The new ronggeng and art dances introduced in the Malay film industry spread far and wide in Malaya, Singapore, Indonesia, Southern Thailand, and Brunei. To ensure continuous success in the production of Malay movies, MFP and Cathay Kris recruited film directors from India while almost all technical crews were recruited from Hong Kong. Indian movie directors who made Malay movies in Singapore, such as B. S. Rajhan, B. N. Rau, Phani Majumdar, L. Krishnan, V. Girimajy, Diresh Gosh, S. Ramanathan, and K. R. S. Sastry were all familiar with the techniques and performance styles of movie-making in India, and utilised the same approach in directing Malay movies.11 The technical capabilities of film-making and in particular the use of multi-camera shots enabled separate dance sequences to be choreographed for different cameras at different times. Thus, a dance piece was choreographed in several sections which were performed at different times by either the same or different groups of dancers according to the filming schedules.12 The breaking of dance sequences into sections allowed choreographers more flexibility in making changes and innovations whenever these were required by the directors. Film-making also allowed a single dance to be shot several times. Although this was convenient for film editing and for the choreographers, it was hard on the dancers. When a single dance had to be performed several times on camera, the pressure to sustain a lively performance throughout the entire filming session often caused dancers to fatigue. However, this could be avoided by scheduling the shootings at different times to allow the dancers time to recuperate. Newly created art dance from the ronggeng repertoire often served as chorus dance sequences in Malay movies. The prima donna, who was either the movie heroine or the lead dancer, would perform separate dance motifs at specific intervals during the chorus. This not only enabled the prima donna to disengage herself from the chorus line when she had to sing the song to which the dance was an accompaniment, but it also provided a multiple perspective of the dance performance. Therefore, it was possible for the choreographers to teach different sets of asli or senandung, inang, and joget/lagu dua dance motives to the prima donna and the chorus line, and yet have them performed together during a single camera shot or at different camera angles. An advantage of performing ronggeng dances on camera was the abandonment of the restrictive linear dance formations imposed by the ronggeng stage. Dancers were able to perform the new art dances in numerous dance formations. This technical advance allowed the dances to be viewed from several angles. Dances were also filmed from above, a technique which revealed numerous floor formations which were not visible when the dance was viewed at ground level.13 The availability of a bird’s eye view encouraged dance 52 RONGGENG RE-INVENTED: THE EMERGENCE OF NEW REPERTOIRES FROM SINGAPORE TO PENINSULAR MALAYSIA instructors and choreographers to innovate and create new dance motives and floor plans. Choreographies became more interesting when choreographers created new art dances with ideas borrowed from the ronggeng dance repertoires. Epilogue: Ronggeng and Malay Art Dance in 1970s-1980s Growing awareness of art dance invented from Malay movies in the 1960s laid the foundations for competitive art dance that became widespread in Singapore and Malaya. Competing teams performed dances re-invented from the three ronggeng dance cycles of asli-senandung, inang, and joget/lagu dua before a common group of judges. The music used in the ronggeng-derived art dance routines was adapted from commercially available dance tunes consisting of the asli-inang-joget repertoires. The judges scored the performances based on ronggeng dance techniques specific to the asli-inang-joget but with newer choreographies. A combination of the ronggeng three-dance cycles, which was referred to as tiga serangkai (series-of-three), were most often performed with dance properties in the new competitive art dance setting. The winning numbers were then imitated and enhanced by other groups, often changing hands from one group to the other, re-embellished and renamed after the dance properties, such as the handkerchief dance (tari saputangan), the umbrella dance (tari payung), the saucer and candle dance (tari lilin), the shawl dance (tari selendang), and many more using existing and new ronggeng music repertoires. From 1964 to 1971, new dance repertoires and musical arrangements from state-wide dance competitions became the foundation for new art dance created for Malaysia’s National Dance Troupe, and were considered as new “national” dances under the Ministry of Information and Communication (Kementerian Penerangan dan Penyiaran) and the Ministry of Culture and Social Welfare (Kementerian Kebudayaan dan Kebajikan Sosial). In 1971, the National Dance Troupe, under the administration Kompleks Budaya Negara (National Cultural Complex) of the Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sports, became the official bearer of “traditional” Malay art dance. By the late 1970s, ronggeng derived art dance from the 1950s had morphed from being “national” art dance in the late 1960s to “traditional” dances of Malaysia. New dance compositions and choreographies from ronggeng derived art dance became Malay “traditional” dances of the National Cultural Complex that was taught, propagated, and funded by the state departments for Culture, Youth and Sports to schools and cultural groups and organisations nationwide. The invention of art dances derived from the ronggeng dance cycle continued under new ministries in charge of culture, heritage and tourism in the 1980s to the present.14 Embellished by diachronic and synchronic changes in dance properties and new tunes over the period of several decades from the first quarter of the twentieth century to the present time, ronggeng had metamorphosed from a single genre with cyclic asli-inang-joget repertoires into multiple re-invented genres of Malay art dance with new identities and aesthetics. Amidst regional popularity, public consumption, and the formation of new productions of local popular dance and music genres, ronggeng has been redefined and re-labelled to fit into mainstream performance traditions in Malaysia. Endnotes 1 For more information on asli dance see Nor (2017), pp. 52-53. more information on inang dance see Nor (2017), pp. 51-52. 3 For more information on tandak and joget see Nor (2017), pp. 48-50. 4 See Nor (1993), p. 42. 5 See Kadir (1988), pp. 133-134. 6 See Nor, (1993), pp. 42-43. 7 Bangsawan choreographers interviewed in 1989 were the husband-and-wife team Pak Halim Osman and his wife from Orkes Aslirama of Singapore, and Pak Hashim Shukor and his wife from the ronggeng group in Muar, Johor. 8 Books on how to dance the new ronggeng or joget and inang began to emerge. An example is the book Cara Menari Ronggeng dan Mak Inang by Daud Hamzah, which provided the names of dance motifs, graphic dance steps and use of dance properties. See Hamzah (1965). 9 These were the Happy World, the New World, and the Great World amusement parks in Singapore. 10 See Ariffin & Arshad (1980), pp. 10-11. 11 Ariffin & Arshad (1980), pp. 24-25. 12 Personal interview with Rahmah Rahmat in Singapore, August 1989. 2 For 53 MOHD ANIS MD NOR 13 This was one of the techniques employed by the camera crew to record the aerial view of dancers in circular and arabesque floor formation. Personal interview with Dato L. Krishnan, August 1989. 14 Refer to Nor (2001), pp. 65-68, for more information on the changes and adaptations of old dance styles to new representations in Malay folk dance. References Ariffin, S. Z. H. M., & Arshad, H. T. (1980). Sejarah filem Melayu. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: Penerbitan Sri Sharifah. Hamzah, D. (1965). Cara menari Ronggeng dan Mak Inang. Singapore & Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: Penerbit Federal Berhad. Kadir, W. A. (1988). Budaya popular dalam masyarakat Melayu bandaran. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka. Matusky, P., & Tan, S. B. (2017). The music of Malaysia: The classical, folk, and syncretic traditions. London, UK: SOAS Musicology Series, Routledge. Mawarku (Pertubuhan Warisan Seni Tari dan Muzik Melayu). (2018). Projek revitalisasi tari dan muzik pergaulan Melayu. Laporan Biro Muzik Mawarku, Kuala Lumpur (unpublished report). Nor, M. A. M., & Burridge, S. (2017). Sharing identities: Celebrating dance in Malaysia. India & UK: Routledge. Nor, M. A. M. (2001). Blurring images, glowing likenesses: Old and new styles in traditional dances of Malaysia. Yearbook for Traditional Music, 33, 65-71. Nor, M. A. M. (1993). Zapin: Folk dance of the Malay world. Singapore: Oxford University Press. Sim, K. (1946). Malayan landscape. London, UK: Michael Joseph. 54 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA BUUT AND PANGAKO: INTERIORITY AND PERFORMATIVITY IN THE SAYAW TRADITION IN TUBUNGAN, ILOILO (Lightning Paper) Jose R. Taton Jr. University of the Philippines Visayas, Philippines Introduction In this paper, I attempt to explore the connection of indigenous psychology and practice exemplified in the performance of sayaw, a music-dance processional ritual enacted by the indigenous Tubungan Bukidnon. I look at the notion of pledges called pangako as a link between psychological interiority called buut and social action. In turn, I consider how the symbolic pledge facilitates the construction, maintenance, and enactment of the Tubungan Bukidnon’s social realities. The Tubungan Bukidnon is a group of Kiniray-a-speaking communities spread across the highland areas of Southern Iloilo in Panay Island, Philippines. Pockets of settlements are located along the banks of the Jar-ao River which have adapted to upland agriculture. Besides farming, the area is a bustling cultural hearth of babaylan culture being considered as one of the four pillars of their spiritual world (Magos, 1992). Also, the site hosts periodic ritual congregations facilitated by spirit mediums across the Visayan archipelago. Pangako as Social Contract The villages’ geographic orientation, with settlements located at least five to fifteen kilometres away from each other, poses communication challenges. Locals rely heavily on verbal transactions which are most often sealed in oral social contracts, referred to as pangako. In Visayan lexicon, pangákò can be understood as “to be able to undertake a work and its responsibility” (Kaufmann, 1934, p. 374). This commitment is explicitly elicited in many personal and communal social contracts such as offering of service related to farming activities, funeral preparations, and wedding celebrations. During marital rites, a special kind of pangako is enjoined by some Bukidnon. Besides making provisions for meal sets, entourage garbs, and religious services, the locals, if viable, secure sayaw performances at marriage processions. The sayaw is thought to clear the path of evil omens and from malevolent spirits which ensures a comfortable and happy marital life. The performance involves two male dancers who do a mock a combat displaying a highly technical sword play. The dance is escorted by a banda, a string and percussion ensemble. The banda is composed of different stringed lutes such as the banjo, banjolina, gitara, and bayulin together with percussion instruments like the bombo (bass drum), barangbang (snare drum) and the mang-mang (hand-held cymbals). Although the performance of the sayaw can be formally asked by the parents of the bride from the parents of the groom as pangayu (request), it is given as a pangako by relatives or friends in most cases. For instance, Rolly Tambaroc started his vocation as an expert sayaw dancer when he nonchalantly expressed a pangako to perform for his friend’s wedding. Thinking of it as a casual conversation, never did he expect that his friend will make him perform it. Although he tried to reason out that he is not a skilled dancer and that he can get people from a nearby community to dance, his friend disapproved. Feeling with a sense of huya (losing face), he fulfilled his pledge as he made preparations for the performance by looking for a dance partner and some musicians. A similar situation happened to Porcino Paniza in 2001. To appease the bride’s feelings, he was left with no choice but to dance the promised sayaw lest he face a shameful situation of not being able to honour his word. 55 JOSE R. TATON JR. Figure 1. A sayaw ritual in 2015. (Photo by the author) Pangako and Buut The Tubungan Bukidnon feel obliged to act, if not compelled to keep one’s promise. They turn to an indigenous psychology referred to as buut1 which compels them to get animated. Buut is defined as an internal state of being central in the psycho-social dimension of personhood among the Visayans (Villan, 2013). It encompasses a wide range of meanings. Psychologically, buut communicates the will and aspirations of the people motivating them to act. Socio-culturally, buut bolsters community relationships. Its fundamental significance in the life of the locals is evident in almost all aspects of life from the performance of songs, recitation of literature, and the settlement of disputes which often involve the appeasement of buut. Buut navigates on value dimensions of balatyagon (feeling), utang na kabalaslan (debt of honour) and huya (propriety) (Villan, 2003). This tripartite scheme is the basis of relationality (Enriquez, 1987). The anecdotes above exemplify the importance of healthy interpersonal interactions as the buut of the dancer tries to pacify the buut of the person who has been given the pledge. The sensitivity and receptiveness of the locals to these values have a huge tendency to direct actions with the aim of creating a harmonious social life. The pangako in the practice of sayaw in other words acts as a catalyst in manifesting internal states of thinking. Figure 2. Sayaw musicians. (Photo by the author) Pangako as Performative Practice To discuss the centrality of pledges as a link between psychology and praxis, I draw inspiration from speech act theory of Austen (1962) and Searle (1969). For Austin, a “performative utterance,” like pangako, is a speech act that creates events or relations in the world. In analysis, pledges (locution) potentially create a space of action (illocution) which is regulated by the confrontational response of the listener to the interlocutor (perlocution). Although several rules govern speech acts, it is still acknowledged that utterances, as a kind of performance, do not immediately become performative. These need “formative forces” (social values and conventions) and a consideration of the nature of obligation, power, and intentionality to be functionally performative. I believe that in sayaw, buut is the agent of action; the values embedded in it fully 56 BUUT AND PANGAKO: INTERIORITY AND PERFORMATIVITY IN THE SAYAW TRADITION IN TUBUNGAN, ILOILO justify the action. Thus, the rational obligation or compulsion to perform which pangako permits manifests the local’s “collective intentionality” to engage in behaviours that seek to negotiate and maintain positive interpersonal affairs (Searle, 1990). These intentions to act mobilised within a space of action in which musical, kinaesthetic, and spiritual idioms are expressed. Locals can execute either one of the two sayaw styles which differ in musical and movement patterns. In the older style, dinuma-an, the sword-play exhibits martial movements similar to the arnis accompanied by a minor mode danza, common in many Visayan traditional airs (Cainglet, 1981). On the other hand, in the contemporary style, binag-o, the sword-play is mixed with kneels, jumps and rolls accompanied by a major mode danza. The practice also involves spiritual grounding as dancers in babaylan garbs conduct rituals of protection such as marking an X on the ground and smearing their soles with dirt. Also, a pair of banana stalks and a bamboo tube filled with water are cut with the belief of providing additional comfort and vigour in the lives of the newly-wed. Maintaining Social Order: Between Psychology and Praxis The elocution of pangako functions as a strategic mechanism that links psychology and praxis. It mediates interiority with social action presenting itself as a gesture of social responsibility and at the same time a device in establishing social order (Villan, 2013). In this study, I see that social action captured in the sayaw predicates to a performativity of the inner self. Through this understanding of interiority and performativity can we see how people like the Tubungan Bukidnon construct, maintain and perform their social realities. Endnote 1 Buut is the Visayan counterpart of loob (inner self) (Mercado, 1972). On one hand, Kaufmann (1934) defines it as “will, intention, mind, reason, understanding, intelligence; to will, want, desire, intend, and do as one pleases” (p. 90). References Austin, J. L. (1962). How to do things with words. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Cainglet, E. C. (1981). Hispanic influences on the West Visayan folk song tradition of the Philippines (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Adelaide, Australia. Doromal, G. (1988). The traditional music of Iloilo. UP Visayas Studies Program, Iloilo City. Enriquez, V. G. (1976). Sikolohiyang Pilipino: Batayan sa kasaysayan, perspektiba, mga konsepto, at bibliograpiya. Quezon City, Philippines: UP Department of Psychology. Enriquez, V. G. (1978). Kapwa: A core concept in Filipino social psychology. Philippine Social Sciences and Humanities Review, 42(1-4), 100-108. Kaufmann, J. (1934). Visayan-English Dictionary (Kapulungan Binisaya-Ininglis). Iloilo, Philippines: La Editorial. Magos, A. (1992). The enduring ma-aram tradition: An ethnography of a Kinaray-a village in Antique. Quezon City, Philippines: New Day. Mercado, L. N. (1972). Reflections on buut-loob-nakem. Philippine Studies, 20(4), 577-602. Searle, J. R. (1969). Speech acts: An essay in the philosophy of language. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Searle, J. R. (1990). Collective intentions and actions. In J. M. Cohen, & Pollack, M. (Eds.), Intentions in communication (pp. 401-419). Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. Villan, V. C. (2013, November). Ilub, Unong, at Amok: Pag-unawa sa Katatagan ng Buut ng mga Bayani sa Himagsikang Pilipino sa Panay, 1896-1898. DIWA E-Journal, 1(1), 58-92. 57 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA SONIC FRAMEWORK: RE-INVENTING PHILIPPINE CINEMA SOUNDTRACK (Lightning Paper) Crisancti L. Macazo University of the Philippines Diliman, Philippines Brief Background of the Study The argument in this lightning paper is the central thesis of my dissertation which is currently a work in progress. I posit that every music cue in the soundtrack suite of a film must be scrutinized to unravel possible subliminal messages. Selected films are examined to prove music as a framework in creating films. This study involves manual transcription of the entire music score of the chosen films, and analyses with regard sound and picture relationship. Objectives include, deeper comprehension of Filipino films through deciphering coded messages nestled in the diegeses; unravelling local identity projected through the mediated music cues alongside moving pictures and texts (dialogues); and to emphasize the importance of short music cues in socio-cultural context. To date, favourable outcomes are unfolding toward a solid thesis. The Emergence of Filipino Films The arrival of Hollywood’s Syncopation (1929) to the Philippines marked the advent of “talkies” in spite of the fact that the sound of the film emanated from a phonograph record. The same method was previously employed by Jose Nepomuceno to accompany scenes requiring singing but failed due to synchronicity issues (Pareja, 1991, pp. 18-19). Sarsuwelas1 kept films from attaining speedy success as live music and acting on stage were far more appealing to viewers at that time. Sound films began to attract more patrons when film musicals began to arrive in theatres on a regular basis. Filmmakers migrated local stage sarsuwelas to films which sent audiences to movie theatres (Tiongson, 1992, p. 32). Philippine sound cinema flourished as audiences identified with the characters and their music (Deocampo, 2017, p. 401). Local filmmakers studied in Hollywood to further their knowledge in the craft such as Vicente Salumbides who re-established his film business afterwards (Salumbides, 1952, p. 8). Local filmmakers also learned to mimic2 Hollywood films, however, they adeptly produced films to localize what is foreign resulting in hybridity and syncretism. Music Cues: Bearers of Coded Messages Film scorers code their compositions for viewers’ comprehension of the film’s diegeses. In 1941, Manuel Conde3 directed Ibong Adarna (Adarna Bird), scored and arranged by Francisco Buencamino Sr. and Jr., respectively. Adarna is an enchanted bird with a beautiful voice that could put a would-be catcher to sleep and later into stone. It also heals an individual stricken with a deadly malaise. The bird sings its aria thrice on different occasions in the film. In the first instance, an unscrupulous prince turns into stone. Second, the bird tries to put the good prince, Juan, to sleep but he catches the former. Third, the bird heals the king. The aria of Adarna is comprised of three coded instruments: (1) coloratura soprano voice, a sonic metaphor for a mother’s lullaby; (2) flute, mimicry for the mythical bird; and (3) celesta, indexing a ‘music box.’ These create a deadly lullaby. However, the absent sound of the music box sonically reverses the effect of the bird’s singing resulting to the king’s recuperation. 58 SONIC FRAMEWORK: RE-INVENTING PHILIPPINE CINEMA SOUNDTRACK In Prinsipe Teñoso (Prince Teñoso), 1954, director Gregorio Fernandez and composer Lt. Col. Antonino Buenaventura, AFP created a four-fold fanfare played by four trumpeters symbolizing the four corners of the world. Additionally, a solo contrabass melody underscores the conversation of the prince and the giant. The deep massive sound of the solo instrument represents the giant while the chromatic melody stresses its emotion. 59 CRISANCTI L. MACAZO Pilipino Kostum, No Touch (Filipino Custom, No Touch), 1955 by director Manuel Conde and music scorers F. Buencamino Jr., R. Umali, and N. Ragas is a dialectic opposition between old traditions and modernity. During the pamamanhikan sequence or asking permission from the parents of a woman for marriage, the respective parties of the man and the woman engage in a debate juxtaposing their ideologies toward customs and traditions mimicked by the music and dances. The score is an alternation between folk tunes played by a rondalla group and modern American music by a big band (Tiongson, 2008, pp. 94-95). The diegesis resolves by merging both ideologies and practices witnessed through hybrid music and dances. Sonic Framework: Filmmakers’ Conveyor of Social identity A film composer is an implied author of the diegesis by way of manipulating sound as an invisible actant freely crossing borders. From the earlier examples, the soprano’s voice acting as a metaphor for a lullaby would be further attributed to Filipinos’ concept of familism4 or family ties. In another diegesis, the solo contrabass chromatic melody creeping in the background acts as the inner voice of the giant enfeebling at the loss of its power. In the juxtaposed customaries, the coalescence of the diegetic dance and music cues of the clashing ideologies sonically focalizes the resolution of differing principles. The director of a motion picture is also an implied author. He directs the actors, the camera work and lighting according to his own interpretation of the script. He decides whether the interpretation of the film music composer and scorer concurs with his. H. Porter Abbot (2002) posits that, “the implied author is also, like the narrative itself, a kind of construct that among other things serves to anchor the narrative. We in our turn, as we read, develop our own idea of this implied sensibility behind the narrative” (pp. 77-78). For this reason, the implied authors’ efficiency lies in the uniformity of the audiences’ comprehension of the motion picture. The significance of thematic relationships can be imputed to the need to create a tightly woven, cohesive sonic tapestry to sustain the impression of the coherence and interconnectedness of the world inhabited by the characters, and sense of their evolving perspective on it” (Biancorosso, 2016, p. 157). I posit that apart from thematic materials and leitmotifs, other musical phrases such as quotations and stingers may also contain coded meanings needing interpretations. Music scoring for Filipino cinema is a daunting task due to dominant cultures. Consequently, Nick Deocampo (2017) asserts that, “[i]n terms of inspiration, form, and musicality, it has become a site for cultural negotiation, resulting in…’trialectical’ relationship” (p. 401). Therefore, in order to penetrate the audience, filmmakers resort to hybridization and syncretism. Coding music cues means injecting messages where the audiences can identify themselves morally, culturally and socially. In spite of the fact that Filipino film scorers’ early beginnings are a mimicry of Hollywood, differing layers of cultural identities diachronically tailor their compositions for their audiences, thus, musical cues are traceable to Spanish, American, and other minor influences resulting in syncretism and viewed as “local.” This mediating process is essential in the construction of a film narrative’s framework, a shared task between filmmakers but generally dictated by film directors. Endnotes 1 See Deocampo (2017) on the role of sarsuwelas in early Filipino cinema (p. 395). See Mambrol (2016), on notes about mimicry. 3 Tiongson (2008), noted that Ibong Adarna was directed by Manuel Conde under the name Vicente Salumbides (p. 29). 4 See Alampay (2011) for a deeper insight on Filipino familism. 2 References Abbott, H. P. (2002). The Cambridge introduction to narrative. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Alampay, L. & Jocson, R. (2011, July 29). Attributions and attitudes of mothers and fathers in the Philippines. Retrieved from https://goo.gl/rG3Pn3 60 SONIC FRAMEWORK: RE-INVENTING PHILIPPINE CINEMA SOUNDTRACK Biancorosso, Giorgio. (2016). Situated listening: The sound absorption in classical cinema. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. De Leon, N. (Executive Producer), & Conde, M. (Director). (1955). Pilipino kostum, no touch (Filipino Custom, No Touch) [Motion Picture]. Philippines: LVN Pictures Inc. De Leon, N. (Executive Producer), & Fernandez, G. (Director). (1954). Prinsipe Teñoso (Prince Teñoso) [Motion Picture]. Philippines: LVN Pictures Inc. De Leon, N. (Executive Producer), & Salumbides, V. (Director). (1941). Ibong Adarna (Adarna Bird) [Motion Picture]. Philippines: LVN Pictures Inc. Deocampo, N. (2017). Music and early cinema in the Philippines. In J. Buenconsejo (Ed.), Philippine modernities: Music, performing arts, and language, 1880 to 1941 (pp. 389-402). Quezon City: University of the Philippines Press. Mambrol, N. (2016, April 10). Mimicry in postcolonial theory. Literary Theory and Criticism Notes. Retrieved from https://goo.gl/vedpsb Pareja, Lena S. (1991). Philippine cinema: The advent of “talkies:” 1927 - 1933. In B. Lumbera (Ed.), Kultura: A quarterly forum for artist, critic and audience, Vol. 4, No. 2 (pp. 14-23). Pasay City: Cultural Center of the Philippines. Salumbides, V. (1952). Motion pictures in the Philippines. Manila: Vicente Salumbides. Tiongson, N. G. (1992). Dulaan: An essay on the Spanish influence on Philippine theater. Pasay City: Cultural Center of the Philippines. Tiongson, N. G. (2008). The cinema of Manuel Conde. Manila: University of Santo Tomas Publishing House. 61 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA MUSIC IN DAILY LIFE: PERFORMANCE LOCATION, MUSIC SOURCE, AND SOCIAL FUNCTION OF KARAOKE ACTIVITIES IN CHINESE-INDONESIAN COMMUNITY JAVA Tsai, Tsung-Te Tainan National University of the Arts, Taiwan Preface Scholars both at home in Indonesia and abroad have been focusing on the study of the culture of Indonesian music, mainly covering Indonesian gamelan, angklung, wayang kulit, music for the royal dance bedhaya, street music keroncong, local popular music dangdut, and various Islamic religious music. Chinese Indonesian music receives relatively less attention. Since 2000, despite the abolishment of all the discriminatory laws against Chinese Indonesians during Wahid’s tenure as the president of Indonesia, as well as the increasing attention on Chinese performing art forms (Sumarsam, 1995; Kartomi, 2000), the study on Chinese Indonesian music still remains minimal. Apart from the brief introduction to the overall development of Chinese Indonesian music, only a few performing art forms have gained attention, such as barongsai, wayang potehi (Tsai, 2015), and wayang cina-jawa (Tsai, 2017); while other art forms like the marionettes, Chinese music, nanyin (南音), bayin (八音), and Chinese pop songs and so forth have been mentioned less in academic articles. Popular karaoke Chinese pop songs performed amongst Chinese Indonesians is not only entertainment, but also has an extremely significant social function in that it plays a role in the social structure construction as well as cultural identity realization. Be that as it may, the development of karaoke activities among Chinese Indonesians is not given due weight, which constitutes the very center of this paper. The Development of Chinese Pop Songs Karaoke in Java In Java, the popularity of Chinese pop songs karaoke is closely related to the Indonesian government’s policies. The series of anti-Chinese policies enacted by President Suharto during his reign accounted halt of Chinese songs for the 30 years in Indonesia (1965–1998). Since the enactment of the New Order Policy, an anti-Chinese law in 1965, all Chinese arts took serious hits as there was a prohibition of the Chinese religious faith, Chinese language, Chinese characters, and Chinese art forms, and Chinese language schools were closed. This had a detrimental effect on the Chinese and on Chinese cultural identity, making young generations of Chinese Indonesians unfamiliar with Chinese language, therefore causing difficulty in popularising Chinese pop songs in Indonesia. Therefore, instead of singing Chinese pop songs karaoke in public, the Chinese Indonesians only do it privately. The Chinese Indonesians did not hold Chinese karaoke competition in Java until 1990, late in President Suharto’s tenure. In 1998, President Habibie cancelled the restriction that prohibited the speaking Chinese language publicly. In 2000, President Wahid allowed the promotion of Chinese cultures and religions in public spaces. In 2002, President Megawati proclaimed Imlek (Chinese Spring Festival) as a statutory holiday, and then in 2006, President Susilo admitted the legitimacy of Confucianism in Indonesia. Since then, Chinese Indonesian culture has gained many opportunities for development—Chinese schools can be set up; people have been allowed to sing and spread Chinese pop songs in public, thus promoting the development of the Chinese pop song karaoke industry. Therefore, Chinese pop song karaoke competitions have been held by Chinese Indonesian communities, institutions, and groups. Performance Locations of Chinese Pop Songs Karaoke-Singing in Java Chinese pop song karaoke, a pervasive recreational activity among Chinese Indonesians, is very popular whenever there are parties among them. Chinese pop song karaoke is performed at family gatherings, native associations, clansmen associations, as dining and entertainment for weddings, festivals, karaoke competitions, and for night street karaoke. Family Gathering As previously mentioned, Chinese Indonesians who come mostly from Fujian, Guangdong, Hainan, and other coastal areas in China, have their own businesses and live in cities such as Yogyakarta, Semarang, Malang, 62 MUSIC IN DAILY LIFE: PERFORMANCE LOCATION, MUSIC SOURCE, AND SOCIAL FUNCTION OF KARAOKE ACTIVITIES IN CHINESE-INDONESIAN COMMUNITY JAVA Surabaya, and Djakarta. Chinese Indonesians who possess a set of karaoke equipment in their home are bosses with certain influence and economic capabilities, running shops, private companies, or enterprises. Therefore, singing karaoke, one of the main ways for Chinese Indonesians to amuse themselves and establish social contact, is sometimes looked upon as entertainment for the rich by Indonesians. Native Associations, Clansmen Associations and Social Gatherings Native associations, clansmen associations, and Chinese Indonesian communities are three common social groups among Chinese Indonesians. In Java, Fuqing, Zhangzhou, Quanzhou, Chaozhou, and Kejia Associations are most common, and constitute the main organizations for Chinese Indonesians to establish social contact and show mutual support. In these native and clansmen associations, singing Chinese pop songs at karaoke is one of the important activities for Chinese Indonesians in Java that exchange ideas and enhance relationships. Even many Chinese Indonesians often conduct business and cooperation via karaoke. Dining and Entertainment Apart from the above-mentioned two settings where karaoke occurs, many Chinese restaurants in Java are also equipped with karaoke equipment. People do not have to pay for karaoke-singing so long as they order meals in these restaurants (Figure 1). Figure 1. Karaoke in a Chinese Restaurant, Yogyakarta (Photo by the author) Wedding and Festival Activities Whenever there are weddings or festivals, especially Chinese festivals, the Chinese Indonesians in Java would hold ridotto and sing Chinese pop songs karaoke. These karaoke events occurring during the Chinese spring festival and other celebration activities, would be held in almost all the cities with Chinese Indonesians, including Djakarta in west Java, Semarang and Yogyakarta in Central Java, Surabaya in East Java and Medan on the island of Sumatra, and so on. Karaoke Competition Karaoke competitions in Surabaya and Djakarta, Java were started in 1990, initiated by Mr. Haitao from Surabaya. Since then, large-scale Chinese karaoke competitions would be held in cities with a large number of Chinese Indonesians. Night Market Karaoke It costs about 2000 rupiah per song if you go to the night market karaoke. Customers going to the night market karaoke mostly are Chinese Indonesians, and sometimes some native Javanese will also be there. The affordable night market karaoke attracts many people to indulge themselves with singing and chatting with their friends (Figure 2). 63 TSAI, TSUNG-TE Figure 2. Karaoke in the Night Market, Semarang. (Photo by the author) The Sources of Popular Chinese Karaoke Songs in Java Since the majority of Chinese Indonesians in Java are from the southern Fujian and Guangdong provinces in China, Chinese pop songs and southern Fujian dialect pop songs are very popular. Most of the Chinese pop songs, spread to Java from Hong Kong, Taiwan and the mainland of China via modern and digital mediums like TVs and computers, deeply influence the Chinese Indonesians. While compared with the popularity of Chinese songs in Malaysia, Indonesia had a poorly developed Chinese song industry due to the anti-Chinese policy of the country. While the Indonesian government banned the speaking of Chinese publicly for more than 30 years, Malaysia witnessed a continuous upward trend of Chinese pop songs. Therefore, the Chinese pop song industry in Malaysia developed relatively better than in Indonesia. In Java, almost all the Chinese pop songs (including songs in Chinese language, southern Fujian dialect and Cantonese) sung for leisure and entertainment or karaoke competition are mainly from Taiwan, mainland China, Hong Kong, Singapore and Malaysia. Of course, there are also very few Chinese songs which are translated and written based on Indonesian folk songs, for example, “Sing Sing So”. Taiwan has always been the place of great importance for Chinese pop songs in that it has relatively integral production and marketing system and possesses numerous singer-songwriters. In addition, from the 1970s to 1990s, with the development of Taiwan’s economy, many Taiwanese celebrities went on tour in Southeast Asia, which not only enhanced their own visibility, but also boosted the popularity of Taiwanese songs among Chinese communities in Southeast Asia. Therefore, most of Taiwan’s pop songs widely sung in Indonesia today are mainly songs written during 1970s-2000s. Teresa Teng’s songs are an example. Some southern Fujian dialect pop songs also gained favour among Chinese Indonesians from the southern Fujian province, for example, “Ai Pian Cia Eh Yian” by singer Ye Chitian. The political environment accounted for the mainland China’s making light of pop music. However, with the rapid reform and the opening-up of the economy, a vast body of Hong Kong Taiwanese pop songs swarmed into mainland China. For the past few years, the rapid development of mainland China’s media industry, especially the CCTV-Music channel made it possible for Chinese Indonesians to get access to Chinese pop songs. Songs from the mainland China were mainly songs after the 1990s, and express feelings such as carrying forward Chinese culture, praising mainland China, deepening national identity and singing about family affection. Typical popular songs are “Face Changing” by Chen Xiaotao, “Way to the Paradise” by Han Hong, “Go Home Often” by Chen Hong and “Father” by Liu Hegang. Since there is no limit for Chinese language in Malaysia and Singapore, Chinese language is commonly used in the Chinese communities of the two countries. The frequent interaction between pop singers from Malaysia, Singapore, and the Taiwanese pop music industry led to the rapid development of Chinese pop music in Malaysia and Singapore. All of these factors make it possible to promote and popularize Chinese pop songs from Malaysia and Singapore in Chinese Indonesian communities. Functions and Meanings of Chinese Karaoke among Chinese Indonesian Communities in Java Singing Chinese karaoke, which is modern entertainment for the Taiwanese and mainland Chinese, has different meanings for Chinese Indonesians in that it is not only done for leisure and recreation, but also helps 64 MUSIC IN DAILY LIFE: PERFORMANCE LOCATION, MUSIC SOURCE, AND SOCIAL FUNCTION OF KARAOKE ACTIVITIES IN CHINESE-INDONESIAN COMMUNITY JAVA establish social contact with others, economic exchange, and provides a personal sense of accomplishment. More importantly, one of the significant reasons why Chinese Indonesians learn Chinese pop songs is to learn Chinese language, and therefore realizing their own identities. Leisure and Entertainment as well as Expression of Feelings As a recreational way for amusing oneself, there is no big difference between Chinese karaoke in Java and in other areas. Karaoke livens things up whenever there are family parties or gatherings with friends. The Establishment of Social Contact among Chinese Indonesians To most Chinese Indonesians, singing karaoke strengthens their emotional connection with each other, rather than simply for leisure and entertainment. Moreover, numerous Chinese Indonesians would hold Chinese karaoke events to enhance their personal status, and thus gradually becoming leaders in their Chinese Indonesian communities. The Exchange of Economic Benefits Since most of Chinese Indonesians in Java do business mainly, holding karaoke events helps them gain social status, and therefore making possible the exchange economic benefits. The closing of business deals during karaoke-singing is similar to doing business on the golf course. Therefore, singing karaoke constitutes a way to connect with one another. Personal Pursuit Realization Over the years, the Chinese karaoke competitions in Java have gained popularity with many Southeast Asian Chinese also taking part in the competitions. Therefore, Chinese Indonesians as well as Javanese would take part in the competitions in hopes of fame, realizing their dreams and gaining self-approval. The Recognition of Chinese Cultural Identity In Indonesia’s special political environment, Chinese language has long been the symbol of Chinese culture. Since the 2000s, the Indonesian government started to encourage and promote the learning Chinese language. Subsequently, making Chinese pop songs, one of the major ways to maintain Chinese cultural identity under such a multi-language environment in Indonesia, was brought back to the life among the Chinese Indonesian communities. Conclusion On the whole, although Chinese pop songs karaoke is a part of the Chinese communities in Indonesia, its development has been closely related to the political attitude the Indonesian government has towards Chinese Indonesians, Chinese cultural identity, as well as the growth and decline of the economic environment and media transmission both in Taiwan and mainland China. In 1998, President Habibie cancelled the restriction of Chinese language being spoken in public spaces. And later in 2000, President Wahid allowed the promotion of Chinese culture and religion in public, which boosted the development of Chinese culture rapidly. Since then, festival karaoke, wedding karaoke, singing karaoke in restaurants, and various karaokesinging competitions sprung up like mushrooms. In addition, as mainland China developed in terms of both economy and diplomacy, Chinese language learning has become a trend important for Chinese Indonesians in realizing their self-identification. Yun Yaochang (2012), a famous scholar who expressed his opinion on the Chinese Indonesian social gatherings in Jakarta, stating that, “Songs, clothes, language, Chinese language, Chinese dialects and Indonesian language mixed with Chinese language and Jakarta dialects are all part of Chinese Indonesians’ self-expression and self-preservation” (p. 76). Of course, it also makes Chinese karaoke singing a significant medium for Chinese Indonesians to express themselves and establish cultural identity. 65 TSAI, TSUNG-TE References Hoon, C. (2012). Dangdai Yinni Huaren De Rentong (Chinese identity in Post-Suharto Indonesia: Culture, politics and media). Translated by Qiu Xuan Yuan, He Jing-Rong, Chen Zong-Yuan, Lin Yu-Jian. Taipei: Guojia Jiaoyu Yanjiuyuan, Qunxue Chuban Youxian Gongsi. Lum, C. M. K. (1998). The karaoke dilemma: On the interaction between collectivism and individualism. In T. Mitsui, & S. Hosokawa (Eds.), The karaoke space, karaoke around the world: Global technology, local singing. New York, NY: Routledge. Sumarsam. (1995). Gamelan: Cultural interaction and musical development in Central Java. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Tsai, Tsung-Te (2017). Moluo Yu Zaisheng: Yindunixiya Zhuawa Huaren Piyingxi De Fazhan Zhuangkuang (Decline and rebirth: The development of Wayang Cina Jawa in Indonesia). Zhongyang Yinyue Xueyuan Xuebao (Journal of the Central Conservatory of Music), 146, 47-64. Tsai, T. (2015). Yindunixiya Huaren Budaixi De Lishi.Yanchu Xingtai Yinyue (History, performing morphology, and music of Chinese-Indonesian Wayang Potehi), Zhongyang Yinyue Xueyuan Xuebao (Journal of the Central Conservatory of Music),139, 69-88. 66 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA CHANGING NAMES AND MEANINGS IN THE POUNDING PESTLES RITE OF THE THAU PEOPLE: A LITERATURE SURVEY ON PAST RESEARCHES (Lightning Paper) Darrell Hung-Ren Tong National Taiwan University, Taiwan Background According to records and many historical photos, the Thau people were much more waterborne than they are now. They used to be known as travelling on their canoes across the entire Sun-Moon Lake region. Although they had been gradually losing their land and territory to settlers for a long time, a drastic loss of land took place in 1931-1934 when Japanese rulers built a hydroelectric dam (1931-1934) which caused the water level to rise significantly when it was in operation. After WWII, Japan surrendered and returned the island to the Republic of China (R.O.C). The next impact took place when the R.O.C. government took the last piece of agricultural land with compulsory purchase in 1967. In 1999, the Chi-Chi earthquake struck central Taiwan. The epicentre was very close to the SunMoon Lake area, resulting in loss of home for most of the Thau people residing around the lake. The aftermath attracted much aid from outside, and with the help of many people including scholars and indigenous right advocates, the Thau people were officially recognized as the 10th aboriginal group. This recognition was monumental because it was the first to break the 9-group-classification of aboriginal people in R.O.C. since 1954. Based on the above information, I divide the recent history of the Thau people into four periods for the purpose of this paper: 1st Period: Pre-hydroelectric dam ~1934 2nd Period: Pre-landlessness 1934-1967 3rd Period: Pre-Chi Chi Earthquake 1967-1999 4th Period: Post-Chi Chi Earthquake 1999~ Names and Labels in Past Literatures In the past, researchers of anthropology or ethnomusicology went to the field and brought back what they collected. Naturally, labels were put on these collections, published or not, and then archived. However, a shifting of paradigm is observable as follows: Signifiers/ Literature Referencing Matlhakan 1st Period 2nd Period 3rd Period 4th Period n/a n/a n/a 2003 (ritual husking) Mashbabiar n/a n/a 1992(all) Mashtatun n/a n/a n/a 2003 (current form of Matlhakan) 2005 (for outsider) 2007 (=Matlhakan) 2011 (=Mashbabiar) The pestle as a tool for food production exists in many cultures, and the use of one’s own language to refer to that of others is inevitable. In the case of the Thau people, most of the literature about them was written in Chinese or Japanese. Since the writing systems of these two languages are deeply related, labelling is often shared. How do the Thau people call this activity (the pounding pestles rites) themselves? An important point of this paper is to address the complexity of this question. First of all, it is clear that this activity of using the pestle was originally a part of food processing. It only became a performance when there was no food to be processed yet pounding continued. Secondly, if it was a performance, to whom was it being performed? The two conditions above laid out the dimension in answering the question: 67 DARRELL HUNG-REN TONG Conditions For insiders (ritual) For outsiders (performative) Food present Matlhakan n/a Food not present Mashtatun Mashbabiar Discussion Because we have no documentation for the signifier(s) in the early periods, let us assume that there was only one signifier for the ritual of pounding pestles early on. Toward the end of 1st period, the Thau had already developed an economy in which performance for outsiders became a part of that economy (Zhang, 1922). Hence, the signified meaning of mashbabiar was only introduced as one connotation of its signifier sometime during the 1st period. This connotation would be further strengthened when the dam was being constructed. The trend of strengthening and weakening of these signified meanings continued throughout the 2nd period as the Sun-Moon Lake area was even more publicly accessible to tourists. The 3rd period did not change the continuing trend from the 2nd period, and by losing the last piece of farming land, agriculture relevance to everyday life diminished. From then on, in many rituals of the Thau people, though the ceremonial practice continued to exist, the connection of the rituals to daily life weakened year by year. For the duration of the 3rd period, the signified of mashbabiar continued to strengthen as the agricultural relevance was almost ‘out of the door’, i.e. the signified of matlhakan was under siege the entire time. Other rituals were withering as well before the earthquake. The catastrophic earthquake in 1999, which marked the beginning of the 4th period, changed or reversed part of the trend in many ways. The feeling of insecurity magnified with all the fear and sense of injustice; the Thau people realized that if they did not take action to defend themselves at that time, they might not get another chance. Thus, they started to revitalize their language, culture, and ritual life. Since they were revitalizing their ritual life, the line that separated themselves and the outsiders would be blurred if the signifier for the activity stayed the same, that is, if the signified of mashbabiar was going to be mixed up with the signified of mashtatun. SIGNIFIERS/ SIGNIFIED Matlhakan Mashbabiar Mashtatun 1st Period 2nd Period 3rd Period 4th Period Husking Ritual Perform =Mashbabiar          X  X Ritual Summary From my analysis on the process of signification for the activity of pounding pestles, I postulate that this activity is the only referent, then based on three available signifiers namely matlhakan, mashbabiar and mashtatun and what they currently signified, it suffices to say that the division of the three signified were driven by historic and social-economic contexts. Thus, three signifiers were selected to meet the demand. Even though the music of the pounding pestles has not changed much from a hundred years ago, the naming and the meaning behind the ritual has probably gone through many different stages. We can observe here how a movement of cultural revitalization can not only change their own sense of identity but also shift the paradigm of research writing. The Survey Year Title Author(s) 1922 水社化蕃社杵の音と歌謠(ABWV’s Sound of Pounding Pestles and Songs) 第一音楽紀行(The First Travelogue of Music) 張福興(Zhang, FuXing) 田邊尚雄(Tanabe, Hisao) 1923 68 Labelling of the activity JAPANESE JAPANESE CHANGING NAMES AND MEANINGS IN THE POUNDING PESTLES RITE OF THE THAU PEOPLE: A LITERATURE SURVEY ON PAST RESEARCHES 1956 臺灣蕃界展望(The Outlook of the Barbaric Realm of Taiwan) 邵語記略(Notes on Thao Language) 1957 邵族的經濟生活(Economic Life of Thao) 1969 臺灣民謠二(Taiwan Folk Song II) 1973 台湾高砂族の音楽(The Music of Takasago Tribe in Formosa) 1982 台灣土著族音樂(Music of Native Formosan) 1992 邵族音樂研究(A Study on the Music of Thao) 1993 台灣先住民腳印(Taiwan Early Inhabitants' Foodstep) 邵語參考語法(Thao: Basic Grammar) 1935 2000 2000 臺灣原住民史．邵族史篇(The History of Formosan Aborigines: Shao) 2001 邵族儀式音樂體系之研究(A Study of the Ritual Music System of Thao) 日月潭邵族的非祭儀性歌謠(Non-Ritual Songs of Thao people) 2002 2003 2003 2004 拜公媽–邵族家庭的通婚與繼嗣的民族學意義(Ancestor Worship—A Ethnologic Meaning of Thao Family Intermarriage and Succeed) Thao dictionary 宗教音樂是建構族群認同的工具—以日月潭邵族的 mulalu 儀式音樂為例 2004 2004 2005 邵族服裝之形制溯源研究(The Study of the form and history of Traditional Thao Clothing) 重讀水沙連 : 從水域文化之保育理述邵族生存抗爭(Rereading the Swei-Sa-Lien ; theorizing the survival struggles of the Thao people and the roles of their ritual practices in the conservation of their lake-culture) 邵族換年祭及其音樂(The New Year Festival and its Music of Thao) 鈴木秀夫(Suzuki, JAPANESE Hideo) ed. 李方桂(Li Fang- None of the 3 words Kwei), 陳奇祿 were documented. (Chen, Chi-Lu), 唐美君(Tang, MeiChün) 李亦園(Li, Yih- CHINESE Yüan) 顏文雄(Yen, Wen- CHINESE Hsiung) 黑澤隆朝 JAPANESE タカン (Kurosawa, (Takan)* Takatomo) 呂炳川(Lü, Bing- CHINESE Chuan) 洪汶溶(Hong, Mashu ba bia Wen-Rong) 洪英聖(Hung, CHINESE Ying-Sheng) 黃美金(Huang, None of the 3 words were documented. Mei-Ching) 鄧相揚(Deng, Masbabiar Shian-Yang), 許木柱(Hsu, Mutsu) 魏心怡(Wei, Xin- Mashbabiar Yi) 李壬癸(Li, Paul CHINESE Jen-kui), 吳榮順 (Wu, Rung-shun) 王鈺婷(Wang, YuTing) Blust, Robert(白樂思) CHINESE Mashbabiar Matlhakan No entry Mashtatun of 吳榮順(Wu, Rung- Mashbabiar shun), 魏心怡 (Wei, Xin-Yi) 李昭鈺(Lee, Chao- CHINESE Yu) 陳永龍(Chen, CHINESE N.B.: This is not a Yung-Lung) ethnographic research. 洪國勝(Hung, Malhakan is for the Kuo-Sheng), 錢善 ritual Mashbabiar is 華(Chien, Shan- mentioned for the show 69 DARRELL HUNG-REN TONG 2005 2005 2006 CHINESE N.B.: This is not a ethnographic research. 洪淑玲(Hung, Masbabiar Shu-Ling) masbabiar 洪國勝(Hung, Both (p.29) and malhakan Kuo-Sheng), 石森 (p.74) are used for 櫻(Shih, Sen-Ying) the ritual 賴靈恩(Lai, Ling- Malagan is for the ritual En) Mashbabia is for outsiders Masbabiar 蔡岡廷(Tsai, Kang-Ting), 周秀雯(Chou, HsiuWen) 簡史朗(Jean, Shih- Matlhakan has been used for the ritual for Lang) a long time, but mashtatun should be the traditional word. Mashbabiar is a performance for outsiders. 滿田彌生 Mashtatun for the ritual (Mitsuda, Yayoi) Mashbabiyar for performance 林芳慈(Lin, Fang- Mazbabiar Tzu) 2006 邵族杵音與歌謠複音現象之關係–以 lus’an 祭儀為例(The Polyphony of Stamping Pestle and Vocal Music of Thao) 2006 邵族部落文化音景意涵之研究(What is the meaning of culture soundscape in the Thao Tribe) 2007 Mintháw ya minshpút？（做番抑是做人？）──邵族的祭祀體系與民族邊界(To be a Thao or a Chinese—the Ritual System and Ethnic Border of Thao) 2009 The Survival Strategies of the Thao: Ethnicity, Politics and Subalternity 2011 邵族逐鹿市集歌舞表演團之當代音樂表演形式研究(A study on the form of contemporary music performance of the Thao ) 2011 邵族傳說歌謠集(Thao Texts and Songs) 李壬癸(Li, Paul Jen-Kuei) 2016 文化的「增值」與「減值」-論邵族 Lus’an 祖靈祭中 Shmayla 祭典歌謠的文化堅持與遞變(Cultural Augmentation and Diminution : On the Persistence and Transformation of the Thao Lus’an Ceremonies Through a Study of the Thao Shmayla Ritual Music) 以邵族歌謠為例探討原住民音樂採集方式及其可能衍生的問題(To Illustrate the Way of Music Collection for Aboriginal Songs and Its Potential Problems by the example of Shào zú Songs) 林詩怡(Lin, ShihYi) 2014 70 「邵族」與「鄒族」：日治時期對日月潭地區原住民的知識建構(‘Thao’ and ‘Tsou’: Establishing the knowledge of the Sun-Moon Lake aborigines during the period of Japanese rule) 邵族歌舞文化之研究(The Study of Dance Culture of Thao Tribe) 臺灣原住民族邵族樂舞教材(Teaching Materials of Music and Dance of Thao People, Formosan Aborigines) Hua) 陳計堯(Chan, KaiYiu) 林幗貞(Lin, KuoChen) , 簡史朗 (Jean, Shih-Lang) Mashtatun = Mashbabiar Matlhakan for husking, though the context of the sample sentence is actually denoting the ritual Either matlhaqan or malhtatun can be used for the ritual Mashbabiar is for performance Matɬakan is for the ritual CHANGING NAMES AND MEANINGS IN THE POUNDING PESTLES RITE OF THE THAU PEOPLE: A LITERATURE SURVEY ON PAST RESEARCHES 2017 2017 聲響的政治：從殖民現代性看日治時期聲音地景(Politics of Sounds: Soundscape in the Japanese-Ruled Period from the Perspective of Colonial Modernity) 永遠的「化蕃」、永遠的「他者」：日治時期殖民政策與日月潭觀光(The Eternally “Half-Civilized” Barbarians, the Eternal Others: Colonial Policies during the Japanese Period and the Tourism Industry at Sun Moon Lake) 蕭伊伶(Hsiao, ILing), 吳雅婷(Wu, Ya-Ting) 滿田彌生 (Mitsuda, Yayoi) CHINESE N.B.: This is not a ethnographic research. Mashtatun is for the ritual Mashbabiar is for performance References Thwaites, T., Davis, L., & Mules, W. (2002). Introducing cultural and media studies: A semiotic approach. Basingstoke: Palgrave. 71 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA AJAT INDU: FROM RUAI TO PROSCENIUM STAGE OF SARAWAK CULTURAL VILLAGE (SCV) (Lightning Paper) Andrew Igai Jamu Nusantara Performing Arts Research Center, Malaysia Introduction Ajat Indu is exclusively performed by female dancers of the Sea Dayak (Iban) community which is the largest indigenous group in the east Malaysian state of Sarawak. Ajat means ‘dance’ in the local language while Ngajat is defined as ‘to dance’. This paper discusses the performance of ‘Ajat Indu’ as a representation of the Sea Dayak (Iban) community from the social-communal space, ruai of the Iban longhouses to the Sarawak Cultural Village (SCV), a major tourist site in Kuching, Sarawak. This paper will compare the Ajat Indu performed in longhouses in Pakan, Sarawak as the ‘presentation’ to the performance in SCV as its ‘representation’. Referring to Patricia Matusky and Tan Sooi Beng (2012), Ajat Indu performance is normally accompanied by the musical ensemble called taboh which includes the engkerumong (gong-row), the bebendai (knobbed gong), the tawak (knobbed gong), the ketebong (cylindrical drum) and dumbak (barrel drum). In Ajat, the engkerumong ensemble will also play several melodies through interlocking beats of the gongs and drums. Basically, the movements of Ajat Indu depict the regal motions of birds from Iban cosmology.1 Both the musical instruments and the dance for Ajat Indu in longhouses are less exposed to outside influences and therefore have retained much of their original form and style within the highly protective Iban communities of longhouses in the interior watersheds and rivers of Sarawak. Commodification of Ajat Indu in Sarawak Cultural Village (SCV) The representational Ajat Indu is showcased at the Sarawak Cultural Village (SCV) or “the living museum,” which was founded in 1990 by the Sarawak Economic Development Corporation (SEDC). Other than the Iban longhouse, SCV took shape with a Bidayuh, Orang Ulu and Melanau longhouse, a Penan hut, a Malay village house and a Chinese farmhouse. The performance of SCV aims to represent the heritage of the major racial groups in Sarawak as tourist attractions. Ajat Indu in SCV was brought by the master teacher, Mary anak Liben, member of the Serakup Indu Dayak Sarawak (SIDS-Sarawak Dayak Women Association) from Kampung Siol Kandis, Sarawak. Presentation of Ajat Indu in Ruai of the Iban Longhouses in Pakan, Sarawak Ruai, an unpartitioned gallery of the longhouse, represents the entire longhouse even though there are many bilek (apartments). Therefore, performing Ajat Indu in the ruai involves all members of the longhouse community and can be a play-performance participated by everyone within the performative space called bebuti. In the ruai, Ajat Indu, which includes the musical pieces2 and the dance itself (Ajat Indu), is normally performed for non-ritual performance as well as for specific rituals in Gawai ceremonies, ruai being a socialcommunal space and multifunction open gallery for ritual, festival and ceremony. According to Mohd Anis Md Nor (1998), the basic contrastive units of kinemes3 of the Ajat Indu are in the body sway, shoulder tilts, pelvic movements and transfer of body weight. These kinemic units are combined to become gerak or langkah, morphokines that imitate the movements of birds, the kenyalang or hornbills. In his study, Mohd Anis Md Nor observed that the dance motifs4 in the Ajat Indu are metaphorically identified with specific stylized movements, which are described as follows:        72 Bungai ajat (petals of dance) Ngauk ai (scooping or bailing water from the surface of a stream river) Pusin ke baruh (turning the body while doing a low pivot turn on one leg and tilting the pelvis on the gestured leg) Pusin tinggi (middle level body turns with technique as pusin ke baruh) Titi papan (Stepping sideways as in walking on a piece of wooden plank) Titi tiung (stepping sideways and forward like a prodding bird) Titi batang (stepping forward in the manner of stepping on top of the fallen tree trunk) AJAT INDU: FROM RUAI TO PROSCENIUM STAGE OF SARAWAK CULTURAL VILLAGE (SCV) The fundamental movement of Ajat Indu imitates the movement of the bird such as burung terebai depicted by outstretched arms, torso bending and feet crossing like the birds sweeping the sky. Titi papan and titi tiong are side stepping motions of the feet with arms bending and folding while rotating the wrists. This gesture imitates bird moving delicately on twigs and branches of the trees in the rainforest. Pusin ke baruh or pusin tinggi are the turns performed on one supporting leg with the other leg gesturing towards the floor while circulating around the supporting leg. In an interview with Jabah anak Layau and Libau anak Matu, dance practitioners from Rumah Tutum, Pakan, I found some of the dance movements named according to the proverbs (jaku silup) of the Iban that depict the image of the movements described as follows:    Entepa, Nelentangka Tapa Jari Lima Berasuk Belulin Tinchin Temaga (opened hands movement middle level with palm face front) Engkepai, Nunda Tajai Terebai Nyerumba Nyang Panas Lemai (elbows to the side low level with wrist twist repeatedly) Bungai Sembah, Kena Masa Kita Ka Bekedunga Duduk Semuka (the opening and the closing salutation of the dance) At several longhouses in the district of Pakan, Sarawak, I observed the female dancers performing Ajat Indu with their grand silver regalia and perfectly-woven kain kebat5 to entertain and honour the guests (pengabang) during Gawai Dayak Festival. During the rituals of Gawai Antu and Gawai Batu, the dances are performed by Iban maidens to welcome spirits (Ngalu Antu and Ngalu Petara). Ajat Indu is normally performed with entirely different purposes from the commoditized performance in SCV. Ajat Indu is traditionally performed without using any assigned dance sequence and the dancers freely perform the dance motifs and improvise according to the music of taboh to flaunt their skills, particularly in balancing themselves while wearing the 7-10 kilograms Ngepan, the traditional costume that allows limited movement of the head as the body tilts slowly from side to side, thus ensuring extremely graceful movements and bearings. Usually, Ajat Indu is performed according to the beats of bebendai and phrase of engkerumong which is played at a 16 beat circulation of ‘ascending-descending’ phrase for the transition of the each dance motif. Representation of Ajat Indu in SCV Ajat Indu is performed for tourist entertainment on the proscenium6 stage in SCV which is only seen by the audiences. The representation of the dance is the act of performing an artistic likeness or image of Ajat Indu but with a different purpose. Performing representational of Ajat Indu by SCV is a form of formal statement which is the substitution of traditions by new inventions necessitated by the need for tourist entertainment. The representations of Ajat Indu in SCV are therefore product-oriented, designated for public showcases. The purposes of performing representational Ajat Indu in SCV include: showcasing cultures; entertaining tourists; constructing messages of regional and national identities; and providing experiential opportunities for tourists. To achieve these purposes, the dancers are therefore ‘well-trained’ in comparison to the dancers of presentational Ajat Indu in the longhouses. Even though the master teachers are from the Iban community, the dancers who are selected to represent the Iban community are not necessarily of Iban descent but are also taken from different ethnic or multiracial backgrounds. Such is the result from time frame for each performance in SCV with 45 minutes to showcase all performances from all ethnic groups in Sarawak, Ajat Indu is normally combined with Ajat Laki. The movements of the representational Ajat Indu are wellstructured, counted and the sequences of Ajat Indu are arranged according to the performed repertoire in which the movements are shortened according to 4 beats or/and 8 beats. As a result, the movements of the representational Ajat Indu are faster and the costume is simplified. Some of the stage crafts related to Iban daily life have been inserted in the repertoire of representational Ajat Indu such as pua kumbu,7 buah genuk8 and the kenyalang wooden sculpture to highlight the ‘Ibanness’ in the representational Ajat Indu in SCV. Conclusion Culture specific elements and ethnocentric styles of dance will continue to contest the act of defining Ajat Indu performatively as Iban’s intangible cultural heritage. These will not only give Ajat Indu its own identity but will also offer plausible means of appropriating dance as an integral part of the Iban identity. Presentational Ajat Indu in the Iban’s longhouses and representational Ajat Indu in SCV continue to become 73 ANDREW IGAI JAMU the benchmark for local choreographers, dance educators and dancers. Both presentational and representational Ajat Indu continue to be relevant for the culture and identity of the Iban. Endnotes 1 Mohd Anis Md Nor (1998). In The Dances of ASEAN (Vol. 2). ASEAN Committee on Culture and Information. 2 Divided into two tempos which are slow and fast. The slow tempo usually played for the Ajat Indu is called Ayun Lundai (The Elegance Sway), Ai Anyut (The Flow of the Stream / River), and Sinu Ngenang (The Sombre Memories) while the fast tempo is known as Tanjak Ai (Sip the River Flow). 3 Significant movements of a language that have no meaning in the structure of a language; they have no meaning in themselves as basic units of a language. 4 Frequently occurring combination of morphokines that form a short entity. Motifs choreographed association with meaningful imagery form, having meaning for dancers and the dance system. Put together through repetition, variation, or grouping to form. 5 Woven skirt with the flora and fauna motives. Laced with silver bell and silver coin of the Strait Settlement known as Ringgit Tungkat. 6 The frame is the Proscenium; the wings are spaces on either side, extending off-stage. Scenery can surround the acting area on all sides except side towards audience, who watch the play through the picture frame opening. 7 Pua kumbu is a traditional patterned multi-coloured ceremonial woven cotton cloth used by the Iban. 8 Dry gourds to bring water from the stream References Dalfovo, A. T. (1999). Development in sub-saharan Africa: The state and the people. Social Reconstruction in Africa, 4(2), 11-27). Mohd Anis Md Nor. (2007). Structural constructs in indigenous dances in Malaysia. In A. L. Kaeppler, & E. I. Dunin (Eds.), Dance structures: Perspectives on the analysis of human movement (pp. 357-362). Budapest, Hungary: Akadémiai Kiadó. Mohd Anis Md Nor. (1998). Malaysia. In The Dances of ASEAN (Vol. 2). ASEAN Committee on Culture and Information. Matusky, P., & Sooi Beng, T. (2012). Muzik Malaysia tradisi klasik, rakyat dan sinkretik. Kuala Lumpur: Universiti of Malaya Press. Royce, A. P. (2002). The anthropology of dance. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Sandin, B. (1980). Iban adat and augury. Penang: Penerbit Universiti Sains Malaysia, School of Comparative Social Sciences. 74 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA THE INVENTION AND CONSTRUCTION OF ZAPIN SEBAT: ACROSS SARAWAK-SAMBAS (EAST MALAYSIA-WEST KALIMANTAN) (Lightning Paper) Mohd Hafzal bin Aziz Nusantara Performing Arts Research Center, Malaysia Introduction Zapin Sebat was created by the late Pak Haji Baiee bin Drahman, who was born in 1921 in Kampung Sebat Melayu located in the sub-district of Sematan, Sarawak. Sematan is a small village located at the western tip of Sarawak facing the South China Sea and also a short distance from Sarawak (East Malaysia) to the border of West Kalimantan Indonesia (also known as Kalbar). Zapin Sebat is named after the village of Haji Baiee and has its own distinctive features in terms of style, structure and dance motifs. Pak Haji Baiee invented the dance motifs that signify the metaphorical meaning depicted in the particular motifs enacting the movement of rowing the schooner (Aziz, 2017). He also constructed the structure of Zapin Sebat through the idea of the honey1 traders crossing from Sambas to Sematan as the particular subject to represent the identity of Zapin Sebat. Pak Haji Baiee learned Zapin dance from Wan Ismail, a Zapin master-teacher who came from Sambas and settled down in Kampung Sebat Melayu, Sematan. The Invention of Zapin Sebat Pak Haji Baiee learned the form of zapin dance from Wan Ismail who came from Sambas and settled down in Sematan. Wan Ismail is believed to learned the Jepin Lembut of West Kalimantan which existed after the spread of Islam to the Sultanate of Sambas ruled by Raja Tengah in the 16th century.2 In addition, the first emergence of Zapin in the court was in Sumatera and Kalimantan (Mohd Anis Md Nor, 1993). Meanwhile, the invention of Zapin Sebat happened in the 1940s when Pak Haji Baiee was about 20 years old and was inspired by the dance movements in Jepin Lembut. Jepin Lembut is characterized by the four major dance motifs which are nyiur melambai (waving palm leaves), mendayung (rowing), langkah susun sirih (stacking the betel leaves) and sembada’ (beach bug). Pak Haji Baiee was inspired by the mendayung movement, one motif out of the four major dance motifs of Jepin Lembut in inventing Zapin Sebat and expanded the motifs into a few minor motifs. The dance motifs invented by Pak Haji Baiee are tumpah madu (spill of the honey), bermain gelombang (playing with the sea waves), kaut (scooping), nait layar (ascending the sail), hulur laboh (releasing the anchor), meniti (walking). Somehow he also appropriated some of the movements from Jepin Lembut such as mendayung (rowing) and sembada’ (beach bugs). Two major dance motifs invented in Zapin Sebat are bermain gelombang (playing with the sea waves) and tumpah madu (spill of the honey). In the Jepin Lembut of Sambas, the body style of the dancers are always in a crouching position, the arms are lower while pushing the elbow sideways, then brought to the middle and moving forward. The specific meaning on gesturing the arms is adapted from nature phenomenon at the seaside and the movements of the palm leaves blown by the wind (nyiur melambai). The body styles and carriage of Jepin Lembut are represented in the movements of Zapin Sebat that portray traders sailing on a schooner hit by the sea waves. To control and to balance the body in that situation demanded that the traders keep bending the knees with the body forward while moving. Thus, the body style enacted is based on that situation while dancing the motives in Zapin Sebat. The arm movements and gestures also have specific meaning where the arm movements in Zapin Sebat portray the movements of mendayung (pedalling the schooner). The appropriation occurred in Zapin Sebat as Haji Baiee appropriated some of the movements in Jepin Lembut, or it might also be the same langkah in the other Zapin forms. The Construction of Zapin Sebat Pak Haji Baiee constructed the structure of Zapin Sebat based on the particular journey of the honey traders who sail from Sambas, where it began at the seaside, going into the schooner and ending up at Sematan (Aziz, 2017). The minor motives in Zapin Sebat are constructed based on the act of rowing a schooner by using terms such as mansang (forward), undur (backward), pusing (turn) and silang mansang (moving forward with crossing of the legs). All of the terms are used in rowing a schooner. The structure and dance motives 75 MOHD HAFZAL BIN AZIZ of Zapin Sebat that were invented and constructed by Pak Haji Baiee portray another form of Zapin that became identified with the Malays in Sarawak especially in Sematan. New Conceptualization of Performing Zapin Sebat The invention of Zapin Sebat is a new, invented tradition with its own distinctive features in terms of style and structure that were constructed by the pioneer, Pak Haji Baiee, constructed based on the particular journey of the honey traders who sail from Sambas to Sematan. The connection between Jepin Lembut of Sambas and Zapin Sebat of Sematan has shown that the spread of Zapin has crossed beyond cultural borders and geographical borders in the world of performing arts. The invention and construction of Zapin Sebat has led the dance to a new conceptualization of Zapin dance form and is accepted by the community representing distinct meanings quite unlike other Zapins, especially in Malaysia. Endnotes 1 Honey is synonymous with Sambas as it is one of their sources of income. to A. Muin Ikram, Jepin in West Kalimantan was introduced by Arab traders and settlers together with the spread of Islam in the 16th century. 2 According References Aziz, M. H. (2017). Zapin Sebat Sarawak: The stylistic and structural differences of Kompleks Pembangunan Sosial & Urbanisasi (KPSU) and KESUMA (Unpublished thesis). University of Malaya, Kuala Lumpur. Mohd Anis Md Nor. (1993). Zapin: Folk dance of the Malay World. Singapore: Oxford University Press. Mohd Anis Md Nor. (2000). Zapin Melayu di Nusantara. Johor Bharu: Yayasan Warisan Johor. 76 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA BABA NYONYA DANCE: A PRELIMINARY SURVEY ON THE SOCIAL HISTORY OF PERANAKAN DANCE GROUPS IN MELAKA (Lightning Paper) Rachel Ong University of Malaya, Malaysia Introduction The Peranakan1 dance, known as ‘Baba Nyonya Dance,’ emerged in the 1980s in cultural shows organized by the Melaka (Malacca) State Government as part of the national cultural policy to create the image of multiethnic tolerance and national unity. This, in effect, led the Peranakan community to form one-off dance groups, which later saw the formation of an association acting as a cultural body solely to perform and showcase Peranakan culture for State functions and tourism events. However, this representation of Peranakan identity through dance was only adopted by one association. This is because the Peranakan community in Melaka is partially segregated across demographics and association affiliations with different ideas of representing their cultural heritage and identity. After the declaration of Melaka as a UNESCO Heritage Site, Peranakan culture received promotion through tourism and more State-sanctioned activities. Such publicity on Peranakan culture then led the community at large to adopt dance performance as a way to publicly represent their culture and identity. The growing economics of tourism have largely influenced the development of cultural performances. In order to attract tourists, Asian countries use various manifestations of cultural heritages to present images of themselves to outsiders (Cunningham, 1998). In her article, Sarkissian (2008) explored how cultural shows became a site for creative cultural production by doing a case study on Melaka. She demonstrated how the government uses cultural shows to display ethnic diversity whereas ethnic minorities use them to express and maintain their identity. Expanding on her case study, this paper traces the formation of Peranakan dance groups and discusses how dance became a way for the Peranakan community in Melaka to represent their cultural identity. The Peranakan Community in Melaka The Peranakan community is a culturally syncretic minority group, resulting from the marriage of southernChina Hokkien migrants and local women in the Straits Settlements. Their negotiation of multiple identities is evident in their eclectic material culture, custom and practices, drawing from Chinese, Malay, Dutch, and British influences (Tan, 2016). One of markers of the identity is their trademark costume called the “kebaya Nyonya,” and it is worn by the female member of the community. The Peranakan are known by many terms such as Straits-Chinese, or Straits-born Chinese, but for the purpose of this paper, I choose the term ‘Peranakan’ and ‘Baba Nyonya’ because these are the two terms used by the Peranakan in Melaka. The term nyonya, and baba are also respectively referred to the female and male community member. Peranakan Dance What is known as ‘Peranakan dance,’ or in Malay ‘Tarian Baba Nyonya,’ is an all-female dance group, usually with 8-10 dancers. The dancers are dressed in their trademark costume the colourful sarong kebaya, flowers in bun-fashioned hairdo, completing the look with beaded slippers. Although different songs accompany the dance, the performance is generally known as ‘Tarian Baba Nyonya.’ The dances usually incorporate either handkerchiefs, bakul siah (Chinese auspicious basket) and handheld fans. This image of women dancing in sarong kebaya raises a few implications. However, what I’ll be addressing in this paper is how Peranakan dance groups, formed with the encouragement by the government, were adopted as cultural markers for the Peranakan community in Melaka. The interview sessions with community members informed me that there were a few one-off dance groups in the 1980s, mostly to perform for Peranakan events and some government events. The choreography was taught by community members who learned dance from their school days such as basic joget (a type of traditional Malay dance) and cha-cha steps. The dance groups comprised only female dancers. 77 RACHEL ONG Formation of Dance Groups In 1987, an association called the Persatuan Peranakan Cina SeMalaysia (Peranakan Chinese Association of Malaysia) was formed with the intention to represent the whole Peranakan community in Malaysia. The two leaders were Koh Her Chiewnh and Koh Kim Bok, where Koh Kim Bok was in charge of the “cultural section”. However, due to differences of ideas on how to “promote” and sustain the Peranakan culture, Koh Kim Bok left the association and started his own association in 1995 called the Badan Kesenian Baba dan Nyonya Melaka (KEBAYA, or The Cultural Association of Baba Nyonya), based at his home in Bukit Rambai, Melaka. Due to his profession as a school teacher and his reputation as a “raja gasing” (top-spinning king), Koh Kim Bok had a professional relationship with the Melaka State government which promoted his cultural group, KEBAYA, to receive invitations to perform for Melaka State cultural shows or tourism promotion events such as the Pesta Sungai Melaka (Melaka River festival) and the National Day celebration held in Independence Square in Kuala Lumpur. In fact, his association only performs for governmentsanctioned events (see Figure 1). Figure 1. KEBAYA performing at Melaka State Government cultural promotion event. (Photo by dancer Julie Wee; used by permission) The KEBAYA dance group became a public face for the Peranakan community in Melaka. They showcase dances dressed in their sarong kebaya representing Peranakan identity. The dance choreography of KEBAYA is taught by a dance teacher from the National Arts and Culture Department (Jabatan Kebudayaan dan Kesenian Negara). These dance practice sessions take place at Koh Kim Bok’s home in Bukit Rambai, Melaka. Mr Koh also noted that he would request to exclude or include certain dance moves which would seem more “Peranakan”. When KEBAYA was actively performing, none of the other two Peranakan associations, Persatuan Peranakan Cina Melaka (PPCMelaka, the Association of Chinese Peranakan in Melaka) and Persatuan Peranakan Cina Malaysia (PPCMalaysia, the Association of Chinese Peranakan in Malaysia) identified themselves with this way of cultural representation. Through interview sessions in this research, it was found that nyonyas (the females) considered it to be beneath their personal status to dance in public. For the longest time, KEBAYA was looked down upon by the other two Peranakan associations. The reason being, as the association is based in the suburban of Bukit Rambai in the outskirts of Melaka town, the members of KEBAYA were looked upon as simple minded and “kampong” (village) folk. Whereas, the other two associations are based in areas which were once considered core Peranakan centres. Members of the other two associations are mostly city folks and come from lineages of wealthy Peranakan families. Since the declaration of Melaka as a UNESCO Heritage Site in 2008, the Melaka State Government has actively promoted “cultural tourism” in Melaka, emphasizing the three ethnic minorities in Melaka, one of them being the Peranakan. Over the past few years, PPCMalaysia also started their dance groups, but only performing at PPCMalaysia events once or twice a year. Their dance choreography is mostly taken from linedancing. Then, in 2016, Bunga Rampay dance group was formed in PPCMelaka. The coordinator of Bunga Rampay is Julie Wee. Previously, she was an active member for 10 years in KEBAYA. Her switch from KEBAYA to PPCMelaka was because she followed her husband who is an active member in PPCMelaka. The formation of this group was encouraged by the previous president with the motivation that PPCMelaka can be represented with a dance group. Since Julie Wee has “background” 78 BABA NYONYA DANCE: A PRELIMINARY SURVEY ON THE SOCIAL HISTORY OF PERANAKAN DANCE GROUPS IN MELAKA in dance from her years in KEBAYA, she was naturally chosen with consensus to lead the Bunga Rampay group. The dance choreography is mostly influenced by the dance that she learned during her time in KEBAYA (which was taught by JKKN, noted above). The song repertoire was also taken from KEBAYA. Bunga Rampay dance group has since performed for PPCMelaka events and in collaboration with the Peranakan Museum in Melaka. Conclusion The change of perception toward nyonya dancing in the Peranakan community was probably due to a response to the indirect peer pressure from the other two existing Peranakan associations. Secondly, in light of the heritage-tourism promotion by the Melaka State government for UNESCO, the community is finding new ways to be visible and represent their cultural identity. Thirdly, it is seen, as Sarkissian (2008) has noted, [a]“…response to a growing urban domestic market, which has come to view “culture” as something that is displayed and the material performed as ‘traditional’.” Cultural shows, directed toward outsiders (tourists, visiting dignitaries, and so on), were organized by the government to forge national unity, bringing multi-ethnic communities together as an ‘imagined community.’ However, as demonstrated in this paper, the formations of such dance groups clearly has impacted the way ‘insiders’ (minority groups) see themselves in performing their culture. ‘Baba Nyonya Dance’ has since been adopted as a way for the Peranakan to promote and publicly represent their cultural identity. Endnote 1 ‘Peranakan’ is a Malay word which stems from the root word ‘anak’, meaning ‘child’. ‘Peranakan’ generally refers to descendants from the union of migrants and local women. Among the Peranakan Straits Chinese the term baba refers to men, and the term nonya refers to women. References Cunningham, C. E. (1998). The interaction of cultural performances, tourism, and ethnicity: An introduction. Journal of Musicological Research, 17(2), 81-85. Sarkissian, M. (2008). Tradition, tourism, and the cultural show: Malaysia’s diversity on display. Journal of Musicological Research, 17(2), 87-112. Tan, S. B. (2016). Cosmopolitan identities: Evolving musical cultures of the Straits-born Chinese of preWorld War II Malaya. Ethnomusicology Forum, 25(1), 35-57. 79 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA SUBCULTURE AS PERFORMING ARTS CASE STUDY: OYOT GODHONG CABARET CAFÉ (Lightning Paper) Gigih Alfajar Institut Seni Indonesia, Indonesia Background The cabaret show in Oyot Godhong is a parody which involves both music and dance. The performing talents are all males who appear as females, resembling female in every detail—as supple as females. Their performances in oyot godhong mimic costumes, styles, and artistic features of the most popular celebrities, local or international. In their play, the cabaret artists are not only imitating the appearances of those celebrities, but also adapting their own characters with the ones imitated, such as face shape and posture supporting their image and role on the stage. A cabaret show is more than just entertainment. It also functions as a space for performers to express their creativity for LGBT audienes. Cabaret Oyot Godhong is located in the third floor of Mirota Batik (now Hamzah Batik), in Malioboro street, Yogyakarta. The venue, which is in the city’s shopping centre, makes this show its own tourism attraction for local and overseas tourists. The performers use lip-synch technique, in which they do lip motions and seeming as if they are singing live. Exaggerated lip motions and silly gestures do look like they are ridiculing the real characters they play. Identification and Subject Restriction Besides entertainment, the presence of the cabaret show oyot godhong is intentionally a space for the LGBT community to develop their collective identity. What is interesting to them is the use of lip-sync technique in the parody, believed to undoubtedly have a specific reason related to a constructed identity that they build. The process of constructing their collective identity is considered as a picture of an effort to maintain their values distinct from society’s pressure which is generally different. This research tries to raise a topic associated with this phenomenon and embodiment, which focuses on correlating an entertaining show as a media, to establish collective identity and subcultural discourse. Outline of the Problem The presence of cabaret shows, besides than being an entertainment media, is also assumed as a space to develop subcultural identity maintained by each performer due to gender proximity, because according to the majority of society, their gender is negatively considered as a diversion. The performing art in this research is an entertaining show (parody) using lip-sync technique in its musical dimension. This study aims to understand the correlation between a performing art as a media to set up collective identity and subcultural discourse. Therefore, here are some research questions and the results. Research questions:    Why does lip-synch technique dominate parody of cabaret show in oyot godhong cafe? What factors encourage performers to maintain cabaret shows? How do cabaret performers set up a subculture through cabaret shows? Analysis Technical Ability Based on the writer’s point of view, the performers who use lip-sync method in their shows do not give a significant impact to the audience. It means that writer does not find any negative effects on the audience’s interest while watching the performance. 80 SUBCULTURE AS PERFORMING ART CASE STUDY: OYOT GODHONG CABARET CAFÉ Figure 1. Photo of a talent lip-sync. (Kabaret OG, 2017) Using lip-sync in Cabaret functions as a convenience for performers to do the show on the stage. If this show is performed by live-singing talents, it needs an intensive practice and performers would need to be physically fit. It is helpful for those who do acrobatics and dance in order to perform a parody. From the research, the writer notes that interviews conducted show that answer as well and that it is related to the cost and to use time efficiently. The reason why the show uses lip-sync is that performers sing as a woman. It is quite difficult to imitate a woman’s voice because male performers commonly have lower tones. Banoe (2003) divided men’s vocal range as an octave lower than women, bass for men and soprano for women. In falsetto technique, a man is only able to reach the alto tone which is the lowest tone that a woman has. In the analysis above, it is clear that lip-syncing makes it easier for performers doing stage attractions, as well as other considerations. Furthermore, lip-sync is to sing and accentuate their image as a woman. Most performers are men who appear as women- which actually have lower vocal tones than real women. Factors from Performers Referring to the element of subculture concept above, the writer understands the performers’ reasons for performing through its element that is shared identity. Shared identity by Haenfler (2014) would rather be a solidarity from each performer who has a different identity from mainstream society. Based on the interview, it is concluded that a background factor for performers to keep the cabaret running is the freedom to express themselves, a feeling of solidarity and the hope to be accepted, because they are marginalized. If we take Haenfler’s point of view, we note that shared identity and being marginalized are factors that are emphasized by performers as a strategy to shield the cabaret from negative labels given by dominant society. Subcultural Identity Each performer in Cabaret Oyot Godhong appears as a woman. According to Hebdige (1979), the style is a practice of significance through significant difference. The style forms a collective identity. Symbolically, subculture is expressed in a form of creating style, and not only as a resistance to hegemony or as a way out of a social gap. 81 GIGIH ALFAJAR Figure 2. Photo of all performers. (Kabaret OG, 2017) In practice, the performers do female impersonations on the stage, such as mimicking female charm, acting as a woman, wearing make-up and also singing by lip-syncing. While performing, they wear furry costumes, mascara and high heels, as well as other items attributed to females. Moreover, the costume is adapted from the song performed. As a whole, the performers use a parody concept. Conclusion Lip-sync usage in cabaret show is due to considerations of economics, cost and utility. From the production perspective, using lip-sync is efficient to save more money and time. This usage of lip-sync is intended to imitate singing gestures and to accentuate female images, which in Cabaret Oyot Godhong is mostly dominated by males who appear as female, and in fact have lower voices than real females. In addition, lipsync makes it easier for performers to do stage performances as well. Factors that cause the performers to maintain this cabaret are the freedom to express, solidarity, and a hope to be accepted despite their marginalized condition by dominant society. Togetherness and a feeling of marginalization are the basis that is emphasized by performers to maintain cabaret of negative images labelled by the dominant society. Cabaret is a means to develop subcultural identity by performers- to become a female impersonator, appearing as a female with a parody concept on a stage. Performers wear accessories or attributes similar to real female singers singing songs via lip-syncing. This cabaret show has a managerial structure on the backstage. Moreover, cabaret as a subculture is collectively developed. References Banoe, P. (2003). Kamus musik. Yogyakarta: Kanisius. Barker, C. (2011). Cultural studies: Teori dan praktek. Bantul: Kreasi Wacana. Boellstorff, T. (2005). The gay archipelago: Seksualitas dan bangsa Indonesia. New Jersey, NJ: Princeton University Press. Fierro, A. (1996). Histoire et Dictionnaire de Paris. Perancis: Bouqins. Haenfler, R. (2014). Subcultures: The basics. New York, NY: Taylor and Francis Books. Hebdige, D. (1979). The meaning of Style. New York. NY: Taylor and Francis Group. Inglis, I. (2006). Performance and popular music: History, place and time. England: Ashgate Publishing. Jelavich, P. (1993). Berlin cabaret. London: Harvard University Press. Melucci, A. (1996). Challenging codes: Collective action in information age. New York, NY: University of Cambridge. Nendia and Mu’min. (2015). Auto lop-sync pada karakter virtual 3 dimensi menggunakan blendshape. Jurnal Rekam. 11(2), 137-144. Piliang, Y. A. (2003). Hipersemiotika: Tafsir cultural studies atas matinya makna. Yogyakarta: Jalasutra. Siswantari, H. (2015). Ekspresi estetis penari cross gender dalam cabaret show di Oyot Godhong Mirota Batik Yogyakarta (Unpublished masters thesis). Universitas Gadjah Mada, Yogyakarta, Indonesia. 82 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA THE SULTAN OF LINGGA’S BRASS BAND Anthea Skinner Monash University, Australia This paper discusses the Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band, locally known as Korps Musik, operating in what is now Indonesia’s Riau Islands province in the 19th and early-20th centuries.1 It focuses on the symbolic role the band played in the power struggle between the Malay Sultan, his Bugis-Malay Yang Dipertuan Muda (YDM) or Viceroy, and the Dutch Resident. Military music came to Riau-Lingga2 in the 1820s (Ali Haji, 1982, p. 221), but the Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band, based on Penyengat island, came to real prominence from the 1880s until the last Sultan was deposed in 1911. It is easy to see the introduction of Western-style military bands as a colonialist power-play and assume that all such bands in Indonesia belonged to the Portuguese, Dutch, or English, but bands such as this one, owned by the Sultan of Riau-Lingga and recruited by his YDM, show that it was not always so simple. The Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band is not an isolated case. Nepal was never colonised but was so heavily influenced by British bands stationed in India that Rob Boonzajer Flaes states that, “right from the start, Nepalese modern military music has been a direct copy of the standard European model” (Boonzajer Flaes, 2000, pp. 90-91). Similarly, closer to Riau-Lingga, the army regiment of the Sultan on Yogyakarta featured European-style drummers from at least the end of the 19th century (Roojen, 1996, p. 33). Rulers in Asia formed their own European-style military bands for many reasons. Ensembles described as “European-Style” actually originated in the Janissary bands of the Ottoman Empire and so for many Asian rulers, they were not an entirely foreign concept. Moreover, many communities with a royal or courtly class already had musical ensembles designed to display the power and authority of that class, some of which show links with Ottoman bands. Such was the case in Riau-Lingga, which featured a nobat orchestra which played at all ceremonial events involving the royal family, including weddings, circumcisions, and religious festivals. Indeed, the nobat orchestra was so culturally important that it was impossible to install a new Sultan without one (Kartomi, forthcoming). Nobat instruments, the nafiri, sarunai, negara, and kopakkopak are of Perso-Arabic origin (Kartomi, forthcoming) and show a definite resemblance to the trumpets, oboes, timpani, and cymbals of military bands. Space does not allow a detailed discussion of the historical and organological links between the ensembles, for the purposes of this paper it is enough to note that the instruments in military bands would be broadly recognisable to anyone familiar with nobat orchestras. Another reason military bands were so widely adopted is that they are extraordinarily fit-for-purpose for ceremonial music. Resplendent in decorated uniforms with the playing shiny instruments, military bands are impressive before they even start to play. They are perfect for playing on the march, making them a vital addition to any parade. By the late 19th century, the valve for brass instruments had been perfected allowing them to be played chromatically, and Adolf Sax had invented both saxophones and saxhorns (Montagu, 1981, pp. 59, 95). These ground-breaking instruments were available in a range of sizes and designed to have interchangeable fingering systems, allowing musicians to move easily from a soprano instrument, down to contra-bass with only a change in embouchure. This was perfect for soldiers who were only part-time musicians and could be redeployed at any time. The bands were also loud; a military band is a symbol of power that can be heard for miles around, especially in the quieter pre-industrial era. The pre-modern Malay world was familiar with the power of sound (Andaya, 2001). The sounds of drums and cannons were seen as echoing the elemental forces and used to provide social cohesion to populations who were within earshot but not close enough for face-to-face interaction (Andaya, 2001, p. 20). In areas with rugged landscapes making placement of borders difficult, a kingdom’s size could be denoted by the distance at which the royal drums were audible (Andaya, 2001, p. 24). Such was the case with RiauLingga. Based around a group of islands with sea-borders, anyone close enough to hear the nobat drums from the palace was considered to be within the Sultanate (Kartomi, forthcoming). In this situation, an ensemble as loud as a military band could play an important part in power relations. Balance of Power Three sides vied for control of 19th-century Riau-Lingga: The Malay Sultan; his YDM, a descendant of Bugis mercenaries given the position after providing military aid to the sultanate; and the Dutch Resident. The Sultan’s main palace was in Daik, on the island of Lingga. The Dutch Resident was located in a fort on 83 ANTHEA SKINNER Tanjung Pinang, a day’s sail from Daik (Ali Haji, 1995, p. 2). Between them was the YDM’s residence, technically the palace of the Sultan’s wife Queen Hamidah, on the island of Penyengat. The central position of the YDM’s palace gradually led to a change in the balance of power, and from 1820 onwards the Dutch played divide and conquer between the Sultan and the YDM (Ali Haji, 1995, p. 2). In a Sultanate traditionally defined by the distance the sound of the nobat orchestra covered, Penyengat’s centralised location gave it the potential to maintain a level of sonic control over the other islands. However, the YDM did not have a nobat orchestra, relying on the Sultan bringing it from Lingga for ceremonial occasions (Kartomi, forthcoming). Unable to gain access to the Sultanate’s most sacred symbol of power, I argue that the YDM instead turned to the musical symbol of power of the Dutch, and so the sixth YDM, Raja Jaafar ibni Raja Haji Fisabillah (r.1806–1832), commissioned the first military musicians in the sultanate, sending four young men from Penyengat to Malacca to study military music (Syahri, 2017a). The court of Riau-Lingga saw cultural equivalencies between nobat and Dutch military bands. When the audience hall on Penyengat was completed in 1823 it featured room for both a nobat and a band (Kartomi, forthcoming). Likewise, the nobat orchestra and the local Dutch military band provided equivalent marks of respect to leaders of both sides. A decree released in 1897 outlines both the required signals of respect to be played by Dutch military bands when the Sultan visited the Dutch Resident and the signals to be played by the nobat when the Resident visited the Sultan (Syahri, 2017b). As a result, the acquisition of a military band by the YDM gave his official residence a level of musical prestige that it had not previously enjoyed. I have uncovered few details about the early decades of the band. We have no information about any specific ceremonies, repertoire or instrumentation in these early years. It may have even folded and re-formed with new members. However, it is likely that it would either have had similar instrumentation to Dutch bands of the time, or a mixture of European and local wind instruments similar to the bands of the Sultan of Yogyakarta (Kunst, 1973, p. 293). Over the next few decades, relations between the Malay Sultan and his Bugis YDM slowly deteriorated. In 1857, Mahmud IV Muzaffar Shah was deposed at the behest of a Dutch-Bugis coalition and replaced by the Sultan’s more docile relative, Sulaiman Badrul Alamsyah (Ali Haji, 1995, p. 3). In 1858, Dutch authorities stated that although the Sultan was the figure head, the YDM was “de facto the absolute ruler’ (Ali Haji, 1995, p. 138). On the death of Sultan Sulaiman in 1883, the slow take over was complete and the newly installed Sultan would be the son of the former YDM of mixed Bugis-Malay descent (Ali Haji 1995, p. 2; Kartomi, forthcoming). The Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band, as it was dubbed by the Singapore press (Syahri, 2017d), became more prominent during the reign of Sultan Abdulrahman Mu’azamsyah (Syahri, 2013). There was also an increased influence of European culture in the new Sultan’s court and in 1900 the Sultan moved his capital to the band’s home island of Penyengat (Kartomi, forthcoming). By the 1880s, the band had grown from the five members sent to Malacca in the 1820s to 27 (Syahri, 2013). Sultan Abdulrahman increased the funding to the band and its use and prominence during his reign. He hired a European bandmaster, Austrian Herr Gunter, and the band wore Western-style uniforms with an instrumentation fairly typical of Dutch military bands at the time (Syahri, 2013). It was a wind band, rather than a true brass band, featuring woodwind, brass, and percussion. Woodwinds include flutes, clarinets and saxophones, brass are a mixture of upright horns, trombones, and helicons with snare and bass drums. The Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band was in instrumentation a completely modern Dutch-style military band of the 1880s. Photos show the instruments are modern with no sign that they are second-hand, colonial cast offs (Syahri, 2013). Indeed, saxophones would not become a standard part of British military bands for another 20 years (Farmer, 1950, p. 62). The band performed at Sultan Abdulrahman’s installation which took place in a marquee on Penyengat with the nobat musicians on one side and the band on the other (Kartomi, forthcoming). While the nobat played most of the ceremonial music, as the Sultan arrived at the foot of the marquee, he was greeted by a European-style trumpet fanfare (Kartomi, forthcoming). Although the band was owned by the Sultan, there were other, more disturbing signs of European intrusion into the ceremony, including the fact that the Dutch Resident mounted the steps of the marquee with the incoming Sultan, and remained seated at the same height as him during the entire ceremony, rather than sitting at a lower level as the Sultan’s subjects did (Kartomi, forthcoming). After the installation, the Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band maintained an important role in courtly life. Like most military bands it held dual functions, performing both in ceremonial events and to provide entertainment. Ceremonial performances included day-to-day events such as the daily displays by the Sultan’s regiment on the parade ground at Penyengat (Syahri, 2013). For more special events such as the aforementioned installation, the band usually played a secondary role to the nobat orchestra (Kartomi, 84 THE SULTAN OF LINGGA’S BRASS BAND forthcoming). The band also provided entertainment for guests, especially European ones, at the palace on Penyengat (Syahri, 2013). The increased use of the band during the reign of Sultan Abdulrahman came to be seen as part of a broader pattern of support for European culture. He regularly visited Singapore, attending European-style musical events at the elite German/Singaporean Teutonia Club, and invited members to European-style concerts held on Penyengat (Syahri 2017c). Although around the turn of the century, Sultan Abulrahman summoned his emirs to discuss ways to limit the colonial power of the Dutch (Andaya, 1977), in 1905 he was forced to sign a document curtailing his powers in Dutch favour (Kartomi, forthcoming). In 1911, the Dutch attempted to arrest the Sultan on a spurious charge, and he fled to Singapore (Kartomi, forthcoming). Once the Sultan was deposed, the band members, who had been in his employ found themselves unemployed. There is no indication that Dutch authorities ever re-established a military band of their own in their area. Some of the instruments from the Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band were saved and are now on display in the Museum Kandil Riau in Tanjung Pinang (M. Kartomi, personal communication, 2018). The Sultan of Lingga’s Brass Band served as a symbol of the Sultan’s military power, despite the fact that such bands usually represented colonial interests. Between them, the nobat and the military band provided the Sultanate of Riau-Lingga with musical representations of power that were easily recognisable to Malays, Bugis, and Dutch alike. The band was originally formed by the YDM and served to provide a new level of sonic power to his palace as he attempted to secure the support of the Dutch against the Sultan. Once the last Sultan of Riau-Lingga ascended the throne the band increased its prominence as European culture became a larger part of the courtly life in Riau-Lingga. However, once the Sultanate fell and the Dutch Resident took effective control of the area the band folded and Penyengat’s history of military band music fell silent and was all but forgotten. Endnotes 1I would like to thank Margaret Kartomi for allowing me to use her fieldwork findings when researching this paper (Kartomi, forthcoming) and Mitchell Mollison for his assistance with translations. 2 The sultanate went through a number of name changes during the period discussed. For clarity’s sake I use the term Riau-Lingga throughout this paper. For more information on name changes see Kartomi (forthcoming). References Ali Haji, R. (1995). Di dalam berkekalan persahabatan ‘in everlasting friendship’: Letters from Raja Ali Haji. J. Van Der Putten, & A. Azhar (trans). University of Leiden: Leiden. Ali Haji, R. (1982). The precious gift - Tuhfat al-nafis. V. Matheson & B. W. Andaya (trans). Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press. Andaya, B. W. (2001). Distant drums and thunderous cannon: Sounding authority in traditional Malay Society. International Journal of Asia Pacific Studies, 7(2), 17-34. Andaya, B. W. (1977). From rum to Tokyo: The search for anticolonial allies by the rulers of Riau, 18991914. Indonesia, 24, 123-156. Boonzajer Flaes, R. (2000). Brass unbound. The Netherlands: Royal Tropical Institute. Byl, J. (2014). Antiphonal histories: Resonant pasts in the Toba Batak musical present. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press. Farmer, H. G. (1950). Military music. London: World of Music. Kartomi, M. (forthcoming). The royal Nobat ensemble, its colonial-era demise, and its recent sonic reinvention. In M. Kartomi (Ed.), Performing the arts of Indonesia: Malay identity and politics in the music, dance and theatre of the Riau sslands. Copenhagen: NIAS Press. Kunst, J. (1973). Music in Java. The Hague: Martinus Hijhoff. Montagu, J. (1981). The world of romantic & modern musical instruments. Milton, Queensland: Jacaranda Press. Roojen, P. van (1996). Batik design. Amsterdam: Pepin Press. Syahri, A. (2017a, March 9). Gemerlap blantika musik Pulau Penyengat abad 19 (1): Rakja Jakfar yang gaul mengirim 4 seniman muda ke Malaka. Jantung Melayu. Retrieved from http://jantungmelayu.com/ 2017/03/gemerlap-blantika-musik-pulau-penyengat-abad-19-1-rakja-jakfar-yang-gaul-mengirim-4seniman-muda-ke-malaka/ 85 ANTHEA SKINNER Syahri, A. (2017b, March 9). Gemerlap blantika musik Pulau Penyengat Abad 19 (4): Kala protokoler melebur nafiri Melayu dengan tambur Eropa. Jantung Melayu. Retrieved from http://jantungmelayu. com/2017/03/gemerlap-blantika-musik-pulau-penyengat-abad-19-4-kala-protokoler-melebur-nafiri -melayu-dengan-tambur-eropa/ Syahri, A. (2017c, March 9). Gemerlap blantika musik Pulau Penyengat abad 19 (5): Dahsyat! Menjamu tamu Jerman, Sutan putar musik dari tombol kursinya. Jantung Melayu. Retrieved from http://jantungmelayu.com/2017/03/gemerlap-blantika-musik-pulau-penyengat-abad-19-5-dahsyamenjamu-tamu-jerman-sultan-putar-musik-eropa-dari-tombol-kursinya/ Syahri, A. (2017d, March 9). Gemerlap blantika musik Pulau Penyengat Abad 19 (6): “Brass band,” begitu media Singapura menamai band pertama dalam sejarah musik Kepri itu. Jantung Melayu. Retrieved from http://jantungmelayu.com/2017/03/gemerlap-blantika-musik-pulau-penyengat-abad-19-6-bra ss-band-begitu-media-singapura-menamai-band-pertama-dalam-sejarah-musik-kepri-itu/ Syahri, A. (2013, January 19). Muzik cara Holanda dan istana Riau-Lingga 1805-1911. Jantung Melayu. Retrieved from http://www.tanjungpinangpos.co.id/muzik-cara-holanda-dan-istana-riau-lingga-18 05-1911/ 86 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA THE SIGNIFICANT ROLE OF THE ARRANGER IN POP SUNDA (Lightning Paper) Indra Ridwan Indonesian Institute of Arts and Culture, Indonesia Introduction In this essay, I discuss the significant role of the arranger in pop Sunda. Pop Sunda is modern commercial popular music in the Sundanese language accompanied by primarily Western instruments, and that blends traditional Sundanese and Western musical elements. The main job of the arranger is to transform a composer’s melody and musical ideas into a musical work. However, the arranger is also much more: he composes songs and chooses the instruments and electronic sound timbres; he creates the rhythms and instrumental parts; he determines the tempo and harmonic foundation of a piece; he determines the structure of the music; moreover, he coordinates the recording session; he recruits and teaches musicians and singers, and he helps the composer, singers, and musicians understand the tastes of the audience. In short, according to well-known composer (and my teacher) Nano S., arrangers “make music listenable.” This article provides a new way of understanding Sundanese popular music production through the arranger and his arrangements. Only two theses about pop Sunda have been written in the Indonesian language (Kusumawaty, 1998; Ridwan, 2004) and only a few articles have been written in English (Williams, 1990; Jurriëns, 2001; Spiller, 2007; Van Zanten, 2014). This paucity of research supports the significance of my article as a tool that provides valuable insights into pop Sunda. As a form of ethnic regional music in Indonesia, pop Sunda is important for the modern social and cultural history of West Java and the broader history of Indonesian popular music. In order to demonstrate the central role of the arranger in Sundanese music, I describe the role of pop Sunda arranger Mohammad Jassin, who “made music listenable” and modern in the 1960s. Two factors encouraged him to develop his unique style, including (1) President Soekarno’s instruction to feature Indonesian characteristics in music during the Guided Democracy period (1959-1965), and (2) the use of children’s songs as the main basis of the repertoire. I argue that those two factors marked the beginning of arranging Sundanese songs accompanied by bands that were then recorded and distributed nationally. Further, I will show how Jassin created unique musical arrangements. Mohammad Jassin and Arranging Music of Pop Sunda Mohammad Jassin, also known as Jassin, was born on November 15, 1938, in the rural Ciamis Regency located in southern West Java. As a child, Jassin and his friends sang kakawihan urang lembur (Sundanese children’s songs), which he would later arrange into pop Sunda. As an engineering student at the Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB), he often listened to music programs broadcast by the radio station called RRI Bandung, which included Indonesian popular music and Western popular music styles such as calypso, rock ‘n’ roll, rumba, and cha-cha. In mid-1959, Jassin formed a band with the English title “Golden String.” He recruited his brothers as members of the band. Jassin intentionally included his relatives in order to make it easier to manage the band. The main musicians comprised five players in which each musician plays guitar, drum set, bongo, or tam tam, and either contrabass or electric bass guitar. In late 1959, he decided to change the name of the band to Nada Kentjana [nada refers to “tone (s),” and Kentjana refers to “golden.”]. From 1961 to 1965, Nada Kentjana produced seven recordings comprising fifty-two songs. These songs include thirty-one Sundanese children’s songs, approximately 60% of the band’s repertoire. In developing popular Sundanese music, Jassin was greatly influenced by the political spirit of Guided Democracy (1959-65). In a gathering conducted at Padjadjaran University in Bandung in early October 1959, President Sukarno claimed that the formation of a good and prosperous society was based on “our own identity.” On October 28, 1959, at the national commemoration ceremony of the Sumpah Pemuda (The Pledge of Indonesian Youth) in Surabaya, Soekarno spoke out against Indonesian youth listening to and dancing to Western popular music. Such popular music included rock ‘n’ roll, mambo, cha-cha, and calypso (Suadi, 2003, p. 6). He also denigrated Western popular music as “noisy and grating” or “ngak ngik ngék” (Printono, 1960, p. 136). Therefore, he called on artists to feature Indonesian identity in every Indonesian art form. Sukarno’s statement about “our own identity” encouraged Jassin to develop Sundanese popular music. 87 INDRA RIDWAN Jassin’s process of arrangement began with the selection of songs. Normally, producers chose the songs to be included on a recording. However, Jassin preferred not to rely on producers for source material; he tended to select songs by himself. He selected songs according to his own values and based on suggestions by friends or the members of his band. Jassin decided to incorporate children’s songs as the main repertoire of Nada Kentjana. He chose children’s songs for the following reasons: (1) compared to other kinds of traditional Sundanese songs, children’s songs were easier to arrange and to accompany with Western musical instruments, (2) the songs consisted of traditional values and made references to local identity, (3) other groups were not using children’s songs, and Nada Kentjana wanted to be different from other groups, and (4) children’s songs were already popular; therefore, these songs were already known by Sundanese audiences. To develop a new melody from a pre-existing one, Jassin would change it (dirobih) or add to it (ditambih). Jassin changed the rhythmic value of pitches (from eighth notes into sixteenth notes) to make the song more lively and upbeat (or “moderen”). Furthermore, concerning lyrics and melody, Jassin created new melodic material to suit the additional lyrics. In terms of adding a new section (ditambih), new melodic phrases could be created (as seen on a rectangle in Figure 2). Figure 1. Children's song version of “Eundeuk-eundeukan” [“Shaking”] (Soepandi & Umsari, 1985, p. 153) Figure 2. “Eundeuk-eundeukan” [“Shaking”] arranged by Jassin (Lokananta, ARI-115, SRL. 282 LK) Conclusion In the 1960s, arrangers used ideas from Western music and combined them with ideas from traditional Sundanese music to generate new forms of music. Pop Sunda made Sundanese people feel keren (up to date) as opposed to kampungan (old-fashioned). Pop Sunda bridged the generations, as it evoked nostalgia but also offered a new experience for listeners. Pop Sunda retained traditional Sundanese elements as well as social values embedded in older Sundanese songs, especially those from children’s songs. The children’s song (lagu buhun) repertoire and the vocal group format represent Jassin’s unique style as an arranger. Of course, Jassin encountered opposition from some of his contemporaries who argued for cultural preservation rather than modernization and change. However, Jassin claimed that pop Sunda actually helped to preserve and re-popularize traditional Sundanese elements in modern times. Jassin said that the lagu buhun must be handed down to the next generation because they contained useful Sundanese values and history, and the way to teach those values to the next generation was to transform those songs into a modern pop style. Therefore, making Sundanese songs modern and listenable was necessary to preserve the lagu buhun and to attract modern audiences to listen to those older Sundanese values. By modernizing music, Jassin brought Sundanese music to a new generation. 88 THE SIGNIFICANT ROLE OF THE ARRANGER IN POP SUNDA References Jurriëns, E. C. M. (2001). Cultural travel and migrancy: The artistic (re) presentation of globalization in the electronic media of West Java (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). Leiden University, Leiden, the Netherlands. Kusumawaty, E. (1998). Pop Sunda karya Doel Sumbang (Unpublished master’s thesis). Jurusan Karawitan, STSI Bandung, Indonesia. Printono. (1960). Usdek intisari Manipol. Bandung: C.V. DUA-R. Ridwan, I. (2004). Pop Sunda, sebuah kajian terhadap bentuk musik pop Sunda di Jawa Barat (Unpublished master’s thesis). Program Studi Magister Penciptaan dan Pengkajian Seni, ISI Yogyakarta, Indonesia. Soepandi, A. & Umsari, O. S. (1985). Kakawihan barudak, nyanyian anak-anak Sunda. Bandung: Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan Direktorat Jenderal Kebudayaan, Proyek Penelitian dan Pengkajian Kebudayaan Nusantara. Spiller, H. (2007). Negotiating masculinity in an Indonesian pop song: Doel Sumbang’s ‘Ronggeng. In F. Jarman-Ivens (Ed.), Oh boy! Masculinities and popular music (pp. 39-57). New York, NY: Routledge. Suadi, H. (2003). Bung karno dan musik pop Indonesia (1930-1965). Bandung: Unpublished personal collection. Williams, S. (1990). Current developments in Sundanese popular music. Asian Music, 21(1), 105-136. Zanten, W. V. (2014). Musical aspects of popular music and pop Sunda in West Java. In B. Barendregt (Ed.), Sonic modernities in the Malay world: A history of popular music, social distinction, and novel lifestyles (1930s-2000s) (pp. 323-352). Leiden and Boston: E. J. Brill. 89 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA TOURING SPIRITS, JAVANESE TRANCE DANCE IN IMMIGRANT COMMUNITIES: ADAPTIVE STRATEGIES AND TRANSFORMATIONS OF MEANING (Lightning Paper) Eva Rapoport Mahidol University, Thailand Kuda kepang or Javanese horse dance is a unique cultural phenomenon combining dance, music and altered states of consciousness in a form of spectacular and awesome performance. It is described as a horse dance as flat horse effigies made of woven bamboo are the hallmark props of the performance, but what makes it even more remarkable is the state of trance achieved through the dance and the following demonstration of various feats based on physical invulnerability, that are believed to become possible because the dancers are possessed by spirits (for more detailed analysis of spirit possession and spirit beliefs (see Rapoport, 2018). Unlike widely advertised art forms perceived as manifestations of the higher Javanese culture (such as gamelan orchestra and wayang kulit (shadow puppet theatre), the horse dance remains almost unknown on the global scale, and foreign tourists paying Java a short visit would hardly hear about it. However, kuda kepang is extremely popular amongst Javanese villagers and lower-income urbanites, and constitutes an essential part of many traditional communal celebrations (such as marriages, circumcisions, individual birthdays and annual village purification ceremonies). Horse trance dances are widespread all over the island of Java, but can also be found almost in any area where Javanese immigrants are present—on other Indonesian islands, in neighbouring Malaysia and Singapore, even in South American Suriname, where over thirteen percent of its population is Javanese (The World Factbook, 2018). The issue of ‘touring spirits’ is some sort of a marginalia on the side of my major research, which is primarily focused on the version of the horse dance found in Yogyakarta region, where it is known by the name of jathilan. However, analysing the existence and persistence of the phenomenon in question in the immigrant communities contributes to better understanding of the entire practice, especially of its remarkable viability. The objective of this paper is to provide a brief glance (based on two cases, from Singapore and Malaysia) of how the practice in question, rooted in the archaic Javanese animistic beliefs and practices of spirit worship, can be adapted to other cultural contexts. According to Iswandiarjo bin Wismodiargo, also known as Wandi (personal communication, 2018), who is a pawang (trance master) in kuda kepang and a president of an unofficial association Kuda Kepang Singapura that he founded, the dance was brought to Singapore from Java in 1948 and has been rather popular ever since. However, during the past few years it has become a target of fierce criticism, as an unruly practice disrupting public order, leading to destruction of public property and, obviously, not compatible with the norms of Islam. This change has occurred after the closing down of Kampung Melayu (lit. Malay Village, sort of a cultural park depicting life in the area before the redevelopment of 1960s), where most of the performances used to take place. Figure 1. Entranced dancer with two hobby horses performing at Goa Selarong cultural festival. Bantul, Special Region of Yogyakarta, Indonesia. (Photo Credit: Eva Rapoport, 2017) 90 TOURING SPIRITS, JAVANESE TRANCE DANCE IN IMMIGRANT COMMUNITIES: ADAPTIVE STRATEGIES AND TRANSFORMATIONS OF MEANING Wandi, although a devout Muslim himself, is committed to preservation of kuda kepang as a unique cultural practice. And his solution is rather remarkable. However, the feats of physical invulnerability are traditionally attributed to the spirits and mastering of kebatinan (an ‘inner science’, esoteric Javanese practice) by pawang and the dancers, Wandi claims that same can be possible with keyakinan (self-confidence), just due to a rigorous training instead of relying on mystical knowledge and forces (see also Hardwick, 2014). Interestingly, he doesn’t doubt the efficiency of true kebatinan, but agrees that in Singaporean religious and cultural context its practice isn’t really possible. Wandi not merely promotes keyakinan in his own group’s performances, public talks and private conversations but willingly exposes the mechanics of the feats characteristic to kuda kepang (e.g., what kinds of glass can be used and how prepared that the performer can chew and swallow it or jump on it with the bare feet). Wandi believes, that devoid of magic, but not of the feats that used to be seen as the displays of it, kuda kepang can survive and endure in Singapore. No less controversy surrounds the practice of spirit possession in Malaysia. Kuda kepang is one of the symbols of the state of Johor (souvenirs featuring hobby horse image can be found right in Johor Bahru airport), but there is a ban on trance issued by the Johor Fatwa Council in 2009 (Ahmad, 2017). There are still reported to be the groups performing it (Ibid.) but they have to do it in rather discreet ways. However, what seems the most exemplary in the Malaysian case is not this relatively quiet resistance but an intellectual attempt to ascribe kuda kepang more respectable origins. Thus, in the analysis of the dance provided by a Malaysian scholar even two decades prior to the ban the following origin story is being told: The Islamized version of the kuda kepang talks of a Javanese who visited Arabia many centuries ago. … [T]his particular Javanese had visited the country and witnessed the manner in which the soldiers of Syedina Ali, the Islamic warrior, worked themselves up into a trance-like state called naik sheh prior to a battle. Fighting like men possessed, they easily defeated their enemies and afterwards returned to their normal selves. The fascinated Javanese left Arabia for Java where [he established] a group known as the kuda kepang. … Gradually, hobby horses made from bamboo were substituted for real horses. (Nasuruddin, 1990, author’s emphasis) This exact passage containing the Islamized version of the origin story is preceded by the other one attributing creation of the dance to Wali Songo (the Nine Saints who are believed to have brought Islam to Java) and assuming its instrumental role in the spread of Islam; it is succeeded by the description of a hypothesis connecting kuda kepang to Pre-Islamic animistic rituals (ibid.). But unlike two other passages, the one in question contains absolutely no references to personal communication with kuda kepang practitioners or any literary sources. It is difficult (and perhaps unnecessary) to try to infer what exactly might have inspired this version, but important is the fact that it obviously doesn’t have any analogues in Java (nor there were ever any accounts of live horses involved in kuda kepang). However, there is actually no single origin story for the roots of kuda kepang, it is most commonly connected to different folk tales and epics surrounding ancient Javanese kingdoms. Interestingly, the aforementioned Wandi from Singapore, who appears to be a seriously religious person, while being familiar with Nasuruddin’s writings, expressed a strong (and rather emotional) disagreement with his interpretation. Still, the work of Malaysian scholar can be perceived as another way of justifying something that already exists and cannot be easily banished, no matter the religious leaders’ condemn or police and town councils’ restrictions. Conclusion While the Malaysian case is of a purely religious nature, all the practitioners committed to their tradition have to do is to continue it in some distant areas far away from the eyes of any officials; in Singapore it seems to be more of a case of the ‘right to the city’ (Harvey, 2008) where the dance started to cause serious controversy only after it has lost an essential environment where it used to be performed. As kuda kepang is not inherently an urban practice, it requires some empty unused space where the performers can dance and the spectators can gather—something that Indonesian or Malay villages have in abundance. Thus, the controversy surrounding kuda kepang in modern Singapore, known for its remarkable for a Southeast Asian metropolis urban planning, lively contemporary art scene and luxurious shopping, vividly indicates how the city-state doesn’t leave much space (in the most literal sense) for those who prefer folk and community-based forms of entertainment to all the aforementioned attractions. People, like Wandi, who consider kuda kepang relevant 91 EVA RAPOPORT for their sense of identity are ready to search for the ways to preserve the dance, even if not in the entirely original and unchanged form. Acknowledgements I am grateful to Patricia Ann Hardwick for introducing me to Iswandiarjo bin Wismodiargo, as well as for many fruitful discussions on the topic. References Ahmad, S. I. (2017). The practice of “Kejawen” in kuda kepang dance. In Proceedings of the 4th Symposium: The ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (pp. 160-164). Malaysia: School of the Arts, Universiti Sains Malaysia. Hardwick, P. A. (2014). Horsing around Melayu: Kuda kepang, Islamic piety and identity politics at play in Singapore’s Malay community. Journal of the Malaysian Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 87(306), 1-19. Harvey, D. (2008). The right to the city. New Left Review. 2(53), 23–40. Nasuruddin, M. G. (1990). Dancing to ecstasy on a hobby horse. In emotions of culture: A Malay perspective (pp. 142-158). Singapore: Oxford University Press. Rapoport, E. (2018). Jathilan horse dance: Spirit possession beliefs and practices in present-day Java. IKAT: The Indonesian Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 2(1), 1-17. Suriname. (2018). The world factbook. Retrieved from https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-worldfactbook/geos/ns.html 92 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA “IT IS LIKE A FLOWER”: UNDERSTANDINGS IN PANGALAY MOVEMENT (Lightning Paper) Desiree A. Quintero Independent Scholar, Hawaiʻi Dwight Conquergood (2002) challenges “the hegemony of textualism” where text is considered a form of privilege of the educated, objective ethnographer and that prioritizes the embedded notion of supremacy of Western knowledge systems (p.147). Countering this notion, Conquergood (2002) encourages other ways of knowing that are “grounded in active, intimate, hands-on participation and personal connection: ‘knowing how,’ and ‘knowing who’” (p. 146). This paper on pangalay dancing as performed by the Suluk people, one of over fifty officially designated ethnic groups in Sabah, Malaysia, deals with the ways in which Suluk people primarily understand pangalay as a kinaesthetic experience relying on sensorial knowledge. Fixed ideas of movements or “steps” as verbal textual references that are arranged in order to create “dances” involve a different process of learning that is not necessarily Suluk. Two primary questions are briefly addressed in this paper coming from the perspective of this author who writes about and researches pangalay: (1) In what ways do writing or talking, fix pangalay as goaloriented or finalized steps; and (2) how do Suluk perceive what it is they do while they mangalay or watch others mangalay? “Languaging” that describes movements as the literal imitation of phenomena such as ocean waves, trees or animals is used to explicate from the spectator point of view, the visuality of the dancer’s movements. This paper explores the ways in which “talking about” dance as a literalism has come to define it as primarily an external experience that is guided by goal-oriented steps. This is juxtaposed to Suluk/Tausug practitioners’ articulations of dancing as an internal process of interpretation. It is proffered that in pangalay dancing the Suluk aesthetic is manifested through bodily understandings. The following anecdote that was included in my doctoral thesis describes a correspondence from 2015, that prompted questions pertaining to differences between learning from “steps” and learning from other bodily processes that were more familiar to me as a dancer. Sometime during the writing of my thesis in 2015, an acquaintance living on the island of Maui in the state of Hawaiʻi, USA, contacted my partner to inquire about us possibly teaching the dance pangalay to a youth group for the annual Philippine-American festival called Philippine Barrio Fiesta. As part of this festival, different celebratory activities occur, including the performance of dances and music that are promoted as “Filipino”. In response to this male acquaintance’s inquiry, we asked for further elaboration. He responded, asking whether or not I had the “steps” of pangalay written down and if so, would I be able to send the “steps” to him. This acquaintance wanted us to email “steps” that involve the fixing of movements textually represented, so that the dance pangalay could be re-created from words on the page to the body. I thought about what that process entails and what could possibly be the outcomes of the performance of such steps without having movement references for such “steps”, nor having prior knowledge of the purposes by which Suluk people perform pangalay. I also thought about how this request for learning from written text is different from body to body transmission that I had always been used to as a dancer—where movement is a way of knowing with my body and the repetition of such movement is a way of bodily remembering (Quintero, 2016). Writing the “dance” involves a sort of “encasement” that defines dance through words, as opposed to the way in which dance is understood through sensate knowledge. Pangalay in a non-linguistic, yet popular rendering refers to “dancing with the hands” (Quintero, 2016) and is performed primarily as part of paglami-lami, the events that are associated with festive occasions such as weddings. The Suluk, an ethnolinguistic group characterized by proclaimed origination from the Philippine Sulu archipelago and particularly from the island of Jolo, speaking Bahasa Sug (Suluk/Tausug language), are also known as the Tausug in the southern Philippines. The Suluk historically navigated the maritime area of the Sulu archipelago and Sabah, Malaysia where I conducted my research between 20132015. The act of writing and talking are linked as both acts through language- written or spoken- shape and define that which the written and spoken word attempts to describe, in this case the dancing called pangalay. I suggest that in writing “the dance” pangalay as bodily inscribed steps is a reconstruction that relies heavily on the visual sense within word-image meanings that focus on external, visual observation. For example, making a correlation between the “wave” or alun and pangalay has often been made in descriptions of pangalay. Many dancers might speak about being inspired by the image of the wave or other natural phenomenon—the “wave” conjuring a poetic mind-image that may influence the way in which one moves as flowing and graceful. However, in the written and verbal repeated use of such descriptors, pangalay in 93 DESIREE A. QUINTERO such rhetoric becomes dance that imitates waves. The word-image descriptors initiate movement qualities for “readers” of pangalay. Although Sulu practitioners may mention such a relationship between the imagined and movement, pangalay is not the literal imitation of waves, which can be any range of movements that are not necessarily pangalay. What dominates discussions of pangalay by Suluk practitioners is the kinaesthetic experience of kulintangan music within festive occasions, where pangalay is devised moving inspired by observations of other dancers and the performative interpretation of kulintangan instrumentation. Of the many issues brought up is the relationship between dance, that involves bodily understandings recognized by doers and beholders as “dance”, and writing/speaking, that acts as its own contained transmitter of knowledge. In pangalay, inspiration may derive from the environs filled with flora, fauna, and the natural world. However, movement terms generally refer to what is done by the human body. For example, limbay (swinging of the arms) and saysig (movement in any direction, particularly the feet), conjure movement references that unless a casual observer has seen or done the movement, the observer does not know what the movement is in pangalay dancing. To refer again to the story of the acquaintance who wanted the “text” of “steps” in order to recreate “the dance” on bodies, the use of “words” becomes the reference for learning or speaking the dance, rather than other bodies or the kulintangan music. In performing pangalay within Suluk festive occasions, bodily senses play a role in learning. For example, honing one’s aural skills in a way determines how one dances. Pangalay involves idiosyncratic ways of dancing, often integrating spontaneity and imagination and that is grounded in bodily curvilinearity through bound and slow movement and a listening that initiates a “hearing” of sounds through the body. The contingent relationship between the sounding kulintangan and dancing was often mentioned by Suluk dancers, where the playing of kulintangan music often determines the quality of one’s dancing. A kulintangan ensemble that plays well, meaning where all instruments “connect” with each other in ensemble playing, creates an environment of sounds that affects the dancers in physically manifested ways—such as having goose bumps and other visceral reactions that prompts dancing in the fluttering of fingers and the sudden trill of the shoulders (kignut). This physicality of embodied listening is described by Suluk people as having “spirit” while dancing, where one is no longer aware of the technicality of steps as a way of having a kinaesthetic experience with sound (Quintero, 2016). The term bunga lima in Suluk language that literally translates as “fruit of the hand” is a referent for hand motions that ornament and embellish the dancers’ kinesphere, interlocking with other movements in continuous motion. If taken literally, bunga lima becomes movements that gesture—hand motions that are flowers, birds, waves, etc. However, bunga lima are not verbatim hand movements, but poetic abstractions. During fieldwork, a Suluk dancer demonstrated one of her mother’s signature movements, moving her hands and said, “It is like a flower”. As this Suluk dancer demonstrated, the motif did not “mean” to be a flower, but the term bunga lima was a figurative reference for motions made by her hands. Bunga lima at its core is abstraction—devised moving in a non-literal yet expressive way. Movements described through written descriptions with words, notated descriptions such as through Motif Notation, and the physical motion of performing bunga lima involve three different ways of knowing movement, with the latter being a sensorial way of knowing by Suluk people. As mentioned earlier in this paper, the role of “steps” or terminologies as pangalay is a way of fixing and defining what pangalay is and that prioritizes and privileges written and verbal language as an example of textocentrism (Conquergood, 2002). Pangalay involves bodily understanding and deeply rooted knowing where there is an interdependent process of knowledge acquisition that involves the senses in body to body transfer. Therefore, dance cannot be studied or talked about segregated from the bodies that manifest movement. Although language is needed to write or speak about pangalay, this tool can be used in different ways to talk about how Suluk practitioners describe their own individual and communal experiences of dancing as an internal process of interpretation relying on bodily understandings of Suluk aesthetics. Pangalay with kulintangan is transmitted in the kinaesthetic process of learning between Suluk people in community through sensorial knowledge within paglami-lami occasions. References Conquergood, D. (2002). Performance studies: Interventions and radical research. The Drama Review, 46(2), 145-156. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/1146965 Quintero, D. (2016). Inhabiting pangalay ha kulintangan as Suluk in Sabah, Malaysia (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Malaya, Cultural Centre, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. 94 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA THE SOGNA AND ULLALIM SONGS OF THE MADUKAYAN KALINGA PEOPLE OF NORTHERN PHILIPPINES Felistina B. Pangsiw Philippine Women’s University, Philippines Introduction I grew up hearing sogna singing from elders during weddings, reunions, and other festive occasions in Tabuk, Kalinga. I also learned to sing sogna by rote method from my Madukayan father and uncle at the School of Living Tradition in Tabuk (see Figure 1). The Madukayan people belong to the Kalinga ethnolinguistic group. Many of them now reside in Tabuk like my father and his family. The village of Maducayan is located along the boundary of Natonin, Mountain Province and Tanudan, Kalinga. There is a wide range of opinions and understandings about Kalinga vocal genres. For example, the view among scholars and Kalingas themselves on ullallim are intertwining and contrasting. The coexistence of indigenous and modern Kalinga culture adds to the complexity in distinguishing the ullalim and sogna which is also referred to as sogsogna. My presentation aims to define and clarify the Madukayan sogna and ullalim songs. Sogna is a song for self-expression while ullalim is for story telling about local heroes. These two oral traditions are rendered extemporaneously in a cappella by a solo singer for various occasions and gatherings. Sogna and ullalim are basically distinguishable genres because of their lyrics but are intrinsically related through its melody called sagayyuwok. I am guided by the concept that singing is intrapersonal and interpersonal communication whereby the performer conveys messages, meanings, and symbols during performance. Intrapersonal occurs within the individual mind or self while interpersonal involves relationships among people. Singing is a physical activity and can be regarded as a social, political, cultural, and emotional act. It is communication embedded with power because the singing text itself is the license that allows musicians to say something special beyond ordinary speech. Figure 1. Brothers Fred and Jose Pangsiw at the School of Living Tradition. (Photo by the author) Defining Sogna Sogna is intrapersonal communication when the singer reminisces and reflects on past events or in solitude called linnawa. The sogna singer comforts himself when spontaneously expressing his emotional state and random thoughts. The singer also renders sogna linnawa to evaluate decisions or create solutions to everyday challenges. Regardless of people around him, sogna linnawa is clearly intended for self. Thus, the singer does not expect any response from those who listen. Moreover, sogna is interpersonal communication when it deals with social interaction among people. It takes place especially during festive occasions such as weddings (barugway), prestige feasts (ammong), peace-pacts (pudon) and to welcome guests (padatong). Sogna may be rendered with a serious topic or with an affectionate mood called sow-ay. The serious sogna may be a narration, exposition, description, and argumentation which may or may not need a reply depending on the singer’s intention. Sow-ay is a form of singing for courtship and promoting camaraderie with an 95 FELISTINA B. PANGSIW individual or group that needs a reply. The sogna sow-ay type naturally seeks feedback from the listeners to whom the song is communicated in the form of another sogna. For example, a reply may come from a peacepact holder, a representative from the host community, and participants in an event. Here is an example of sogna as my greeting song. Sogna text: Translation: Amod naoy dinuma Pasig taku sasana Kota Kinabalua Ta (u)moy taku inila tagos naduma-duma How nice we are all here in Kota Kinabalu We are able to meet different people Defining Ullalim Ullalim is a sung narrative indigenous to the Kalinga-speaking people from the municipalities of Tanudan, Tinglayan, and Lubuagan with the inclusion of the Maducayan of Mountain Province. It is an oral tradition which narrates the life of culture heroes and their romantic love affairs, grand marriage celebrations, and headhunting exploits. In this respect, ullalim portrays an idealized and imagined Madukayan community. Mythical characters such as Banna, Julliyao, and Laggunawa exude remarkable beauty, unparalleled physical strength, and exemplary morals that portray a perfect picture of Kalinga society. An ullalim singer performs solo who may be either male or female. Furthermore, an ullalim singer is usually a medium (mamvuvuni) or an elder with a wealth of experience in life; he is knowledgeable about events contained in the ullalim which also provides life lessons to the listeners. The ullalim is performed while seated in the day time to entertain the community in gatherings, over meal time, and at night inside the house for socializing and leisure. The singer can also render an ullalim while standing or mobile during harvesting season or while separating the corn from the cob in swidden farms. It is rendered when the community feels contented and not bothered by fear of tribal war or saddened due to death. An excellent ullalim singer is one who delivers the lyrics with clarity and with vocal prowess. However, ullalim singing is seldom performed today. Young singers are difficult to find perhaps due to a lack of interest and the changing times dominated by new modes of entertainment such as radio, television, and the internet. Here is an excerpt of ullalim sung by my father Jose Pangsiw. 96 Ullalim text: Translation: manggagait as buwa iyab-abot na gaya se kuwa nat ukgiya ngan pay ngadan da sana se bubais mandiga dawatum ud di mumma ta manlappuwan at ginga kanan iDurawona nataag e nammotwa kat ad Ginnanayana kog-ogyat di ganawa guman pay gay inila nganin nanlibatana kanan kanu Ginnanayan dividing the betel nut he greets them with his laughter what is her name this lady please accept my betel chew that we may start a conversation said Julliyao from Jurawon surprised is Ginnanayan how wonderful is this gentleman how come I have not seen where he comes from said Ginnanayan THE SOGNA AND ULLALIM SONGS OF THE MADUKAYAN KALINGA PEOPLE OF NORTHERN PHILIPPINES Figure 2. Interrelationship of Sogna and Ullalim Summary Sogna and ullalim are performed by the Madukayan people who belong to the Kalinga ethnolinguistic group. Sogna and ullalim are vocal genres that share the same melody called sagayyuwok. Both generally use sevensyllable verses as a guide. Likewise, both songs use similar compositional techniques such as adding vowels, word extension, elision, and repetition to fit the melody. A distinguishing vocal technique of sogna and ullalim is the application of heavy tremolo on low notes called goyongon. Breathing techniques like a short pause is used to separate verse lines. Grouping of verse lines is marked with prolonged high notes for opening while a long pause signals the end. Although they differ in lyrics, performance duration, and function, both songs are forms of expression that reaches out to their intended audience. In both rendering of sogna and ullalim, singers communicate their culture orally as well as affirm Madukayan identity. References Billiet, F. & Lambrecht, F. (1970). Kalinga ullalim &Ifugaw orthography. Baguio City: The Catholic School Press. Billiet, F. & Lambrecht, F. (1974). The Kalinga ullalim II. Baguio City: Igorot Culture Research Studies. Majukayong Tribe. (2011). Orak. California: Pilgrimage Homecoming Reunion Organization. Prudente, F. A. (1984). Musical process in the gasumbi epic of the Buwaya, Kalingga people of northern Philippines (Doctoral dissertation). University of Michigan, USA. Prudente, F. A. (2002). Weaving voices of the highland peoples in northern Philippines. In Symposium: The International Forum of Ethnomusicology (pp. 238-246) Taipei, Republic of China: National Center of Traditional Arts. Saboy, S. M. (2012). Voicing ethnicity: Traditional referentiality, the ullalim, and Kalinga ethnopop. The Cordillera Review, 4(2), 37-64. Scott, W. H. (1969). On the Cordillera: A look at the peoples & cultures of the mountain province. Manila: MCS Enterprises. Stallsmith, G. R. (2007). The music of a Kalinga peace-pact celebration: Making place through the soundscape (Master’s thesis). Bethel University, USA. Walcott, R. H. (1987). The mountains ring out their joy: Christian music from the Cordilleras of northern Philippines. Manila: Asian Institute for Liturgy and Music. Welch, G. F. (2005). Singing as communication. In D. Miell (Ed.), Musical communication (pp. 239-259). Oxford: Oxford University Press. 97 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA EMBODIMENT OF MOVEMENT IN DANCE AS ENCULTURATION: KIANGAN, IFUGAO PROVINCE, CORDILLERA ADMINISTRATIVE REGION, NORTHERN PHILIPPINES Wayland Quintero Independent Scholar, Hawaiʻi Introduction This paper comes out of my July 2017 and November 2016 fieldwork in the Northern Philippine highlands, in the municipality of Kiangan, Ifugao province. At an elevation of 703 meters, Kiangan is 349 kilometres from the Philippine metropolitan capital of Manila and is part of a landlocked area designated as the Cordillera Administrative Region (CAR). The modern spelling of Kiangan is derived from an ancient village called Kiyyangan in Ifugao orature believed to be the dwelling place of the mythological ancestors of the Ifugao people, Wigan and Bugan. Kiangan is one of several municipalities within Ifugao province where dances with flat gongs or gangha, and other instruments have ritual origins and are today performed at festivals, other public events and for private, family and close kin ceremonies that take place in rice terraces. The people call themselves Ipugo, meaning “from the earth”. Colonial Spaniards had changed the name to “Ifugaw” followed by American colonials who revised the spelling to “Ifugao” with an “o”. Nevertheless, people throughout the province of Ifugao express pride in not succumbing to colonial subjugation, enthusiastically sustain their performative arts on their own terms, and are beginning to take notice of metropolitan representations of Ifugao. This paper is an opening discussion using an Ethnochoreological and Critical Performance Studies approach in considering embodiment of movement in dance as enculturated performance. Ifugao People Gaze Metropolitan Groups via YouTube Over the years while viewing Philippine dance on the social media site YouTube, I began noting commentators’ responses to videos of metropolitan dance troupes in the Philippines and the United States that display what are labelled as, “Ifugao dances”. In the past, performances of so-called Ifugao dances have been out of the purview of practitioners in Ifugao province. Metropolitan dance troupes’ videos on social media are representative of what urban-based artists display and have begun garnering robust responses by social media commentators who self-identify as Ifugao. In one video example that as of this writing has attracted 107,418 views, a Manila-based group performs what is titled as “Bumayah – ifugao suite,” and that has generated many terse responses. The following comments are a few of many examples by commentators to the “Bumayah – ifugao suite” video posted on YouTube (“Bumayah - ifugao suite”. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkN_S0fbVFQ&list=PL0MgqHB-KbMGjkbtPdGei7ecegCFrum3C). to whoever dancing this, never ever destroy the natural dance of Ifugao! we as Ifugao never give any permission to re invent our dance into something like this! (Leny Gano) NGEK!!!! This is not an ifugao dance!! (Jarold Martinez) is this the ifugao dance? is this the fuckin modern dance of ifugaos like me? this is a disrespect for us and our unique culture. respect the culture and traditional dance of ifugaos men PEACE (Mark aki) In another YouTube example, the Los Angeles, California Philippine dance group called Kayamanan Ng Lahi performs what the group calls “Uyaoy” (“Uyaoy Ifugao Dance by Kayamanan ng Lahi”. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z3kGfTVJV6o). Uyaoy is a term that Ifugao people use to refer to a prestige rite and that also refers to a dance that is part of the rite. However, a number of metropolitan dance groups have appropriated the term Uyaoy for their choreographies. The following three sample comments to the video featuring the Los Angeles group on YouTube posted by commentators who self-identify as Ifugao, reflect an overall sentiment to a plethora of uploaded videos featuring metropolitan groups. 98 EMBODIMENT OF MOVEMENT IN DANCE AS ENCULTURATION: KIANGAN, IFUGAO PROVINCE, CORDILLERA ADMINISTRATIVE REGION, NORTHERN PHILIPPINES They take our native dance culture and bastardize it before presenting it to the world that it was our native ifugao dance.........fuckin' disrespecful and annoying. (Toby Namonne) yuck, please remove the title "ifugao dance" and change your attires and call your dance something else totally different. thank you for your understanding. (The Dreamer1) What the hell!!!! That's not an uyauy dance... (kring kring) During my fieldwork in Kiangan municipality, I visited the Ifugao Heritage Center and met with Marlon Martin, an Ifugao community leader and prolific cultural advocate. Martin made comments in response to the videos mentioned above along with videos of other groups on YouTube. Compared to what he viewed in the YouTube videos that Martin described as “ugly” and “terrible”, Martin spoke of how Ifugao people dance by mentioning qualities such as “noble” and “with grace.” While viewing the metropolitan dance group videos, Martin shook his head disapprovingly and restrained himself from perhaps more explicit verbal expressions of dismay at the way metropolitan performers dance what is billed as “Ifugao”. Martin’s aversion to the ways metropolitan artists dance inspired him to then give a demonstration of Ifugao dancing that are discussed further below. Enculturation, Indigenous Knowledge, and Movement: A Brief Discussion Enculturation refers to, “the gradual acquisition of the characteristics and norms of a culture or group” (https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/us/enculturation, n. d.) and that I furthermore add, can be revealed and are expressed competently through the dancing body. Indigenous Knowledge or IK can be described as, an indigenous knowledge system constituted by parts of a complex whole that is comprised of ways of knowing and knowledge making, living, and behaving including dancing. IK is also a burgeoning area of research and advocacy privileging the agency of IPs or Indigenous Peoples to carry on, change, even commodify their performative arts, as well as challenge appropriations by dominant, metropolitan culture. I suggest that people in Ifugao manifest movement as a process of highland enculturation versus the ways that metropolitan artists perform their “Ifugao dances” created via urban dancemaking for Philippine nation-building projects (metropolitan Manila groups) and Filipino identity dance-making (metropolitan American groups). Explicitly noted distinctions in embodiment of movement were invigorated through my interactions with Ifugao people who viewed social media videos labelled “Ifugao dances” and who also gave demonstrations of Ifugao dancing. During my visit to Kiangan, local male and female dancers with the Ifugao Intangible Heritage and Performing Arts Society demonstrated movement motifs that they as a group perform at local, domestic, and international festivals as examples of dancing originally tied to Uya-uy and Hagabi, the names of rites that increase the prestige of kadangyan or nobility, individuals and families with substantial land holdings, particularly rice fields. Compared to social media videos of metropolitan artists performing Ifugao dances, the performers in Kiangan embody movement as Ifugao versus as metropolitan Filipino dancer. The performers who are part of the Ifugao Intangible Heritage and Performing Arts Society embody movement in ways that can be described from a qualitative movement perspective: A) The Ifugao performers dance with a bound-ness of the body’s centre, moving in very controlled effort upward and downward with the flexion and extension of the knees with a slight bounce, and also with the movement of the extended leg forward, upwards, and backwards in a somewhat sustained movement. Movement is inwardly maintained with the torso in a forward position. B) Contrastingly, the metropolitan performers’ body centre is constantly released, making body effort free and not bound. The metropolitan dancer’s centre is at times backwards in movements, and rather than sustaining movements, such as on one leg, movements have a sudden quality shown in hopping upwards. Furthermore, the bounded effort of the body’s centre executed by Ifugao performers is also seen in the stepping, whether forward or backward. The foot moves with direct effort upward and downward and held in mid-air. In the metropolitan dance videos, movement becomes a side step, with the entire body swaying side to side, with freer, less disciplined effort. 99 WAYLAND QUINTERO The following chart refers to ideas of body use and quality of movement, primarily effort factors and body directions as one approach to describing movement using concepts conceived by a dance theorist and artist named Rudolf von Laban. This chart shows contrastive qualities that are manifested by embodiment of movement through enculturation, by performers within and from highland Ifugao province versus dancers in metropolitan spaces such as Manila and Los Angeles. Body effort Movements of legs Torso position Ifugao Intangible Heritage and Performing Arts Society Bound Sustained Forward Metropolitan “Ifugao dances” Free Sudden Backward I suggest that the right side of the chart offers qualitative movement terms for what holders of IK express in terms such as “ugly”, “offensive”, and “insulting” displays by metropolitan groups that promote “Ifugao dances”. Concluding Remarks During my July 2017 visit in Kiangan, one of the male dancers with the Ifugao Intangible Heritage and Performing Arts Society demonstrated Ifugao enculturated movements mentioned above. The dancer, Olmigy Hagada, then spoke of his movements in terms of, “an eagle circling the sky looking for prey, that’s what we do, so it’s steady, it’s concentrated going around in circles, when it flaps its wings its already diving for the prey, the movement is very controlled.”1 What I wish to point out is that the movements are not necessarily about being an eagle, but are movements that are performatively bound, sustained, and danced as an Ifugao person. On another occasion in Kiangan, I showed YouTube videos to a group of Ifugao dancers and teachers, who expressed amusement and dismay at the metropolitan videos. Ifugao female dancers commented that the ways the people danced in the YouTube videos was not proper, not correct, and that while perhaps creative, the dances are not Ifugao. In closing, social media sites such as YouTube create a forum for viewers and commentators who self-identify as Ifugao to effect a reversal of the metropolitan artist’s gaze, to talk back at metropolitan appropriations of signifiers of Ifugao culture while sustaining, repurposing and changing Ifugao performative arts on their own terms. Special thanks to Desiree A. Quintero, PhD, for reading drafts of this article and providing input for the movement analysis section. This paper is a shorter version of a much longer article to be published in The Cordillera Review (TCR), University of the Philippines-Baguio, and is included herein with permission by the editor of TCR. Endnote 1 Interview excerpt with Ifugao Intangible Heritage and Performing Arts Society performer Olmigy Hagada, July 2017, Kiangan, Ifugao province. 100 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA EXPRESSING GRIEF FOR THE DEAD AMONG THE BUAYA KALINGA OF NORTHERN PHILIPPINES Felicidad A. Prudente Independent Scholar, Philippines Introduction Ethnomusicological studies on Cordillera practice of grieving and bereavement are limited and less explored. Lamentation for the dead in particular is least articulated. Except for very few pioneering works on dirges and wake songs, most literature related to Cordillera death traditions are anthropological in nature. In this presentation, I explore the content and meaning of a father’s lamentation to his deceased daughter from the region of Buaya in Balbalan, Kalinga Province. Buaya Kalinga lamentation is called lamάt; it is text-driven and is interpolated with sobbing, crying, and shedding of tears by the performer. Because it is often punctuated with crying, Kalinga lamentation is also referred to as ibi, or cry. It is directly addressed to the deceased and is rendered during wake (bagongon) where prescribed practices including taboos take control. Kalinga lamentation is a narrative of grief (lidam) and self-reflection which publicly reveals the performer’s inner thoughts and feelings (dumdum). Context of a Father’s Lamentation and Customary Practices for the Dead I learned about the death of an eight-year old girl named Lagamaw from a neighbour who happened to be passing by my residence on her way to visit the bereaved family. Hurriedly, I got my bag and joined my neighbour in extending condolences to the parents of the deceased child. When we arrived at the bereaved residence, a dead chicken was hanging underneath the house and a small fire was lighted burning some chicken feathers at the yard. It is practice in the village that killing a chicken immediately upon death is necessary so that the chicken’s soul can guide the deceased’s soul (kadodwa) to the land of the dead. Inside the house were Lagamaw’s parents who were both watching over their deceased daughter laid between them. Lagamaw’s body was still warm when we arrived. She was wrapped in blue blanket. Some children who were probably her playmates gathered nearby. Relatives came in trickles bringing with them funeral contributions (adang) in the form of rice, sugarcane wine, money, and other goods. Rice pounding at the house yard together with butchering of a carabao and cooking its meat to feed the community likewise began. Later, a basket containing rice and meat wrapped in banana leaves was placed at the house ceiling for the spirits (alan) before the first meal was served so that they did not disturb the food for the people. At this time, more relatives arrived. Some relatives who came inside the house rendered their lamentation as they saw the corpse. They chanted, wailed, and cried in solo and sometimes in group, reminiscing their personal experiences with Laganaw when she was still alive. Practically the whole village were at the wake (bagongon) until the next day. Men stayed in the yard throughout the night while some slept over after dinner. Women and children were inside the house of the deceased while others went to nearby homes to rest. The next morning was Lagamaw’s burial (lobon). The corpse was carried by her brother to the grave accompanied by her father who was holding a small plate and bowl. Two men opened the tomb where Lagamaw was finally laid to rest. Following tradition, the corpse faced towards the downstream (lagud) and the plate, bowl, clothing, and blanket were left beside her. The deceased father, Tawagon, immediately returned home after burial to get food which he placed on top of Lagamaw’s tomb for her consumption during her journey to the land of the dead as well as for distribution to the souls of the dead (kalading) upon her arrival there. Rites after burial represented the cutting of ties with the dead. The throwing of a clay pot containing a piece of burning wood and some stones by the father and the recitation of a myth called kabukab by the village medium (man-anito) were performed to drive away the spirit of the deceased. Close relatives of the dead were instructed to cough into a bamboo tube to remove the nature and effect of death (unawa di natoy) on them. Later, the bamboo tube was split into two and placed at the entrance door before eventually brought out and left at the river bank. Excerpt of a Father’s Lamentation to his Deceased Daughter A father’s lamentation provides a glimpse on content and meaning of lamat. I present here an English translation of his lament. 101 FELICIDAD A. PRUDENTE “Immok, this is the house where I live,” she said Immok, you keep reminding me of what you said Yes, I thought so Don’t blame me, Immok Oh, when you got sick, Immok When we had money, we went (to the hospital) Twice I brought you to Salegseg I even brought you to Tuao. So she heals and lives, this child of mine Immok, even if you gave me a difficult time So don’t feel sulky, Immok Oh, even if you will not eat the banana I fulfilled all my obligations to you So you have nothing to complain Immok, that I did not take care of you. “Go to the hospital, Lagamaw” says Ingnga, Immok So she will not get sick, I said. Look at Almazan Didn’t he live? That’s why I brought you. Immok, when I brought you to Tuao I brought you directly to the doctor I thought you got healed and will live So that nothing will be said about me. “Don’t worry,” said the doctor What are they saying that you will live Don’t blame me too much, Immok Immok, when we arrived home, I wished we had a pig to sacrifice We could have celebrated one, so that nothing will be said How pitiful, this child of mine Immok, there’s nothing more I can think of I’m helpless I have no other way Oh, I feel all the burden Should Latawan contribute some rice wine Let’s leave it to the people, I said. How pitiful, this child of mine How I wish you passed on when you were little, Like Sabel whom I have forgotten It pains me thinking Oh, how pitiful, this child of mine Immok, don’t blame me because I did everything I shall accompany you to the hut that you built I pity myself for what I have done Immok, I lack knowledge about healing One of my siblings, passed on ahead Immok, Maling’s advice was useless “Oh, I shall visit you on Monday,” she said Where will you be if you did not leave, Immok Immok, I carried you on my back last night But I can’t do it every night because you didn’t want, you said “Oh, how I give father so much hardship,” this child probably said I was just waiting for night to come so you can sleep 102 EXPRESSING GRIEF FOR THE DEAD AMONG THE BUAYA KALINGA OF NORTHERN PHILIPPINES Oh, I know what you are doing Immok, I was not able to sleep that night I did not feel the child will die, I said I thought you will still reach tonight I wanted you to live the next day, I said. Meaning & Significance of Lamentation Lamentation (lamat) is a performer’s expression of grief (lidam) which renders the bereaved inner feeling of pain (dumdum) towards the departed. It is an outpouring of emotion particularly the feeling of pity (kaasi) that is often reflected in the formulaic phrase “how pitiful this child of mine.” Lamentation evokes memory of the performer’s personal relation with the dead as in this case of the father with his deceased daughter. It is a narrative a family experiences, particularly with their struggle to heal the child. It reminisces the past to forget an unfortunate event. Addressing the deceased with an endearing name “Immok,” the father recalls and narrates his role as a responsible father despite physical and economic difficulties. There is also frequent mention by the father to the deceased daughter not to sulk (mampasugnod) or in Tagalog term tampo because he believes that he has fulfilled his best. Attributing fault or blame (mampabasol) is likewise raised by the father in the lamentation. Lamentation is self-reflection made public. It is a disclosure of the inner self or gubuk, literally meaning “inside” whereby the performer outpours his inner thoughts and emotions during the wake where practically the whole community is present. Finally, lamentation is nexus of the living and the dead. It is a link with the dead before he/she is laid to rest. It highlights the nuances of everyday living that recounts shared experiences at an unfortunate time of mourning. Reference De Raedt, J. (1969). Myth and ritual: A relational study of Buwaya mythology, ritual, and cosmology (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Chicago, Chicago, U.S.A. 103 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA GARAK NAGARI PEREMPUAN [THE INSTINCT OF NAGARI WOMEN] IDENTITIES OF MINANGKABAU WOMEN IN THE RUMAH GADANG: A DANCE PERSPECTIVE (Lightning Paper) Susas Rita Loravianti Institut Seni Indonesia (ISI) Padangpanjang, Indonesia Introduction This paper is a reflection on the identities and experiences of Minangkabau women who live in our rumah gadang (big houses, matrilineal based), through analysis of my major narrative dance work, Galak Nagari Perempuan (2013). My research is from an indigenous perspective. I am a descendant of one of four rajo (king/leader), of South Solok, namely Tuanku Rajo Batuah which was a title used when the district was known as the kingdom of Alam Surambi Sungai Pagu, a kingdom connected with the central Minangkabau palace, Pagaruyuang. The hour-long dance work was staged in my ancestral rumah gadang as part of my PhD in dance from Surakarta Arts Institute. This house is called Istano Rajo-Rajo Adat (palace of the customary kings) of Alam Surambi Sungai Pagu, within the nagari (Minangkabau village) of Pasir Talang in Sungei Pagu, Solok Selatan district, West Sumatra. Garak Nagari Perampuan was devised with choreography derived from Minangkabau martial arts (silek) and contemporary dance. Musical accompaniment was created in collaboration with local musicians who played rabab Pasisia Selatan (rabab from the South Coast in the Muaro Labuah style), saluang panjang (long bamboo flute), gandang sarunai (double headed drum pair), rabano (frame drums) and gontong-gontong (hand-held gongs [canang]). Figure 1. Puti Alam Surambi Sungai Pagu, descendants of the four Rajas of Alam Surambi Sungai Pagu at the meeting of customary kings, Pagaruyuang Palace, 29 September 2018. Author is on the right. (Photo credit: Author) The title of the dance Garak Nagari Perempuan (hereafter GNP) not only means the gerak (Ind. body movement) of nagari (M. Minangkabau village polity) perempuan (Ind. women); it also encapsulates motivational power of both the body and soul. While a nagari is a Minangkabau village, it also refers to ones place of origin and area of power. The meaning of perampuan (Ind. perempuan, women) here is also culturally specific to Minangkabau; women represent a collection of ampu (thumbs); the thumb is the mother of the fingers and most important finger of the hand. Discussion Women in Minangkabau are known as induak bareh (rice mother), urang rumah (person/owner of the house) mande (mother) bundo kanduang (lit.womb mother, so birth mother, head of the rumah gadang, senior matriarch) ambun puruik (treasurer) aluang bunian (the centre of information) payuang panji ke Medinah (noble umbrella of Medinah) and undang-undang ke surga (the law of heaven). In addition, women are considered sitawa sidingin (the ones who cool disputes). This ideal image of Minangkabau women is told in kaba (sung narrative). Kaba in the form of lyrical prose is generally conveyed while singing and sometimes accompanied by the tapped rhythm of a matchbox, 104 GARAK NAGARI PEREMPUAN [THE INSTINCT OF NAGARI WOMEN] IDENTITIES OF MINANGKABAU WOMEN IN THE RUMAH GADANG: A DANCE PERSPECTIVE kacapi, rabab, or with saluang flute and bansi whistle. The musical accompaniment adds to audience appeal so that they listen until late at night. Kaba contain didactic messages and the values expressed are even thought to come from God the Creator, delivered through kaba so Minangkabau people feel obliged to convey kaba from generation to generation. The role of the tukang kaba (expert narrative singer) is very important, performing personal variations on the inherited story. Garak Nagari Perempuan (GNP): Inspired by Kaba My GNP narrative dance is an effort to revive the kaba tradition that today is less common in highland Minangkabau, although still strong on the coast. I chose to help revive kaba because it is an effective medium for transmitting useful, positive values for the Minangkabau community. GNP offered two things at once, namely: (1) New kaba, and (2) The new mode of delivery, through dance. The new kaba is presented in GNP through a reinterpretation of existing kaba, with influences from the classics, Cindua Mato and Anggun Nan Tongga. The themes that I wished to convey through this dance were: (1) The role of Minangkabau women as guardians and drivers of positive values in matrilineal culture; (2) The role of Minangkabau women in the realm of politics and within public spaces; (3) Minangkabau women as professionals in the world of work today; and (4) Minangkabau women as intelligent and critical mothers, who educate their extended family to become prosperous and happy. The Greatness of Bundo Kanduang in Kaba and within GNP Kaba Cindua Mato and kaba Anggun Nan Tongga are narratives with strong central female characters. I used these kaba as inspiration for GNP and introduce here the female character of Bundo Kanduang in Cinduo Mato. I mainly used the version from the book of the kaba in Indonesian, Cindur Mata, as written down by Aman Dt. Majiondo (1951) which I precis below: It is said that Bundo Kanduang was a majestic ruler of the Pagaruyung Kingdom, Minangkabau. She became king by herself, at the same time as the creation of alam Minanagkabau (Minangkabau natural world). Bundo Kanduang is depicted as the equivalent of the King Rum (Turkey) and the King of China, who once both proposed to her. Their requests were approved by Bundo Kanduang. However, before either marriage could take place the great kings died because they were unable to compete with her supernatural powers. Bundo Kanduang’s power derived from her crown called Kulah Kamar, the silk maternity cloth Sang Seto Sigundam-Gundam, and the kris (dagger) called Curik Si Mundam Giri. This kaba underpins the choreography of GMP. As the choreographer and a central dancer in the work, I embodied the tukang kaba, expressing through my dance what is experienced by Minangkabau women today. Minangkabau women remain powerful within the nagari because they own the rumah gadang and communal land (pusako) is inherited through them. Although Minangkabau men as mamak1 (maternal uncle) act as executors and contribute to decisions on land use, it is women who actually receive the profits based on their lineage. Consequently, in the Minangkabu matriarchal system, the position of women and men is balanced. While men move in the realm of law, Minangkabau women move in the moral domain as supervisors and treasurers. Narrative within Garak Nagari Perempuan: Narrative Dance Perspective GNP opens with: (1) Exposisi, the exploration of Minangkabau adat (custom), which is aligned closely with Islamic teachings as demonstrated with the saying we use, Adat basandi syara, syara basandi kittabullah [Custom is based on sharia and sharia is based on the holy books]; (2) Koflikasi, shows choreography representing daily life in the rumah gadang with Gondan Gondoriah from kaba Anggun nan Tongga as the main dance character. In the classic kaba, Gondang Gondoriah asks her fiancé Anggun nan Tongga to collect magical animals for her, including talking parrots. He goes on the rantau (to travel away from home) to rescue his three lost mamak. To secure a parrot he has to marry its owner, the beautiful Andami Sutan. The parrot was in fact a test of Anggun nan Tongga’s loyalty, set for him by Gondoriah and one that he 105 SUSAS RITA LORAVIANTI failed; (3) Klimatis, the climatic scene, which references visually the moment in kaba Cindua Mato when Bundo Kanduang debates her four senior male advisors known as the Basa Ampek Balai. In the kaba she punishes the young Cindua Mato for transgressing adat even though he was attempting to rescue heroine Puti Bungsu. In my production, Bundo Kanduang debates the position of Minangkabau women today; (4) The resolusi, where Bundo Kanduang says that even though women have entered the workforce, it is still possible to carry out their roles as women and community members through specifically Minangkabau custom, i.e., as a mother within the matriarchy. In short, as a complete Bundo Kanduang; (5) The konklusi is a symbolic representation of the main characters, as they express the importance of Bundo Kanduang, both the kaba character and mothers today. The powerful women in kaba such as Bundo Kanduang and Gondan Gondoriah have influenced many women leaders in Minangkabau history. The following women are particularly notable; Rohana Kudus (educator and journalist), Rahmah El-Yunusiah (Islamic educator, leader in revolutionary army), Rasuna Said, (leader in Indonesian nationalst politics), Yang Dipertuan Gadih Puti Reno Sumpu (from Pagaruyuang royalty) and Siti Manggopoh (the Lubuak Basung freedom fighter against the Dutch). Figure 2. Performance of Garak Nagari Perempuan at the rumah gadang Istano Rajo-Rajo Adat in Alam Surambi Sungai Pagu. (Photo credit: Nursyirwan) Conclusion GNP was devised from historic kaba and my self-reflection on the experiences of busy Minangkabau women today. GNP developed a kaba into a contemporary performance and by staging it at a rumah gadang, the South Solok community become an integral part of the work, as collaborative dancers and musicians. Kaba-based narrative dance is only one model for new choreography. There remain many other genres that can inspire innovative Minangkabau dance artists. Endnote 1 Mamak is a maternal uncle who has a leadership role in the immediate family of his mother, helping to look after his kemanakan (children of his sisters) and within his mother’s suku (clan). Reference Aman Dt. Majiondo. (1951). Cindur Mato. Bukittinggi, Indonesia: Balai Pustaka. 106 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA IDENTITIES OF MINANGKABAU WOMEN IN THE RUMAH GADANG OF SOLOK SELATAN: SYMBOL OF BUNDO KANDUANG (Lightning Paper) Nursyirwan Institut Seni Indonesia (ISI) Padangpanjang, Indonesia Introduction South Solok (Solok Selatan) district in West Sumatra, Indonesia, is one area in Minangkabau which has many rumah gadang (lit. large house, a matrilineal family house), which testifies to the resilience of the Minangkabau adat (customary) system in this locality. The indigenous research for this paper was carried out with Susas Rita Loravianti, to support the creation of her choreography Garak Nagari Perempuan (refer to this proceedings). The intention was to understand contemporary uses of rumah gadang in the former kingdom of Alam Surambi Sungei Pagu. We found that Minangkabau living in what is now called the district of South Solok, West Sumatra, have recently developed an interesting local form of arts management. Through gotong royong (Ind. mutual help), local values are still solid, based on local knowledge within the community. Some community members who live in the traditional rumah gadang have designated their homes as tourist destinations. Consequently those rumah gadang have changed function to become homestay accommodation. When tourists arrive they are treated to dances, on the halaman (front lawn of the house), for example the tari tampuruang (coconut shell dance) staged by the women owners. Discussion New communication technologies have re-established links between Minangkabau women in their ancestral villages and those who have moved to large cities in the rauntau (circular migrant locations/away from the ancestral village). Both in the rantau and at home elite community members refused to see women as mere housewives but rather claim their social status derived from their ownership of rumah gadang, where they are known as the Bundo Kanduang (lit. womb mother, birth mother, head of the house, senior matriarch). The powerful role of the Bundo Kanduang is conveyed in the proverb: Limpapeh rumah nan gadang/ambun puruik pagangan kunci—the central pillar of the large house/the holder of the treasury key (Manggis, 1971, pp. 50-51). In fact, women have long managed their own arts and culture activities in the Solok Selatan community. Seni budaya (arts and culture) is routinely carried out in the presence of guests, both from their extended families, during weddings for example, and also non-familial guests such as public officials, corporate guests and journalists. To understand how this management system works, we need to look at the local matrilineal system which underpins Minangkabau adat. Matriarchy (matriakat), as used in Minangkabau, is a system that is opposed to the word patriarchy (patrikat) but not in the sense that women are in a position of superiority and men in exploited positions. Matriarchy is interpreted as a balance in the lives of women and men. Male kinship leaders (penghulu) and Bundo Kanduang are the prestigious leadership pair within the rumah gadang system, where women are positioned as the owners of the land and men as the managers of the land. Figure 1. Rumah Gadang in South Solok. (Photo credit: Author) 107 NURSYIRWAN Minanagkabau Matriliny The Minangkabau people are from the extended Malayu culture divided into two main tribal pairings namely: Koto and Piliang and Bodi and Caniago. Other tribes (suku) have developed depending on location. A Minangkabau household is not the nuclear family but a group of relatives, descended from a senior matriarch, who live under one roof of the rumah gadang. A rumah gadang can be made up of several families, depending on the number of girls in the house. At marriage daughters bring their husbands to their own rumah gadang house, to sleep in a bilik (bedroom for a married daughter). For example, if the house has four married daughters then the combined number of families living in a rumah gadang is also four, one in each bilik. Adult unmarried daughters sleep in the long front communal living room with their unmarried sisters and cousins from their mother’s siblings. Traditionally from seven years old, boys are sent to study at the surau (small community pray house) and sleep there also. In reality, this final aspect has changed now and boys generally sleep in a separate annex of their mother’s house. Sastrawati (70 years), a Bundo Kanduang from South Solok, explained how use of an ancestral rumah gadang to house tourists fits with matrilienal adat: They are treated like dunsank (relatives). Minangkabau sleeping arrangements, which includes sleeping guests in the long front room means that single-gender visitors can room together there. A husband and wife are offered one of the bilik. This is so as not to damage the order of Minangkabau customary rules, which we express as Adat basandi syara, syara basandi kittabullah [Custom is based on sharia and sharia is based on the holy books]. If a group of tourists are unmarried friends then the women use the various bilik and the men sleep in the communal front room.1 To eat bajamba (from one platter) is one of the privileges of staying in a rumah gadang, as explained by Ibuk Zulfiati (48 years) who belongs to the local tourism association for the Saribu (1000) Rumah Gadang of South Solok (POK Darwis). Eating bajamba usually occurs at weddings when musical performances also take place. Bajamba means to eat together from one large round tray (talam), whereby four or more people eat rice, meat dishes and vegetables sitting together around the talam. Each talam is filled with Minangkabau food, for example Lamang Tapai (black fermented rice pudding and coconut rice cooked in a bamboo node) chicken, fried aubergine, randang pakis (rendang beef and fern fronds) and Anyang Gulai (beef, coconut curry). Modelled around an adat reception, guests watch local versions of beloved Minangkabau dances such as: tari piriang (plate dance) accompanied by hand held gotong-gotong gong pots, galombang (men’s silek martial arts dance) and the tari tampuruang (coconut shell dance) mentioned above. Land and Rumah Gadang Inheritance Navis (1984, p. 170) writes that every nagari in West Sumatra has ulayat land with boundaries which are transmitted orally in accordance with the surrounding nature, such as a hilltop or a river. There are two types of ulayat; first, ulayat nagari, which belongs to all, for example, forest and back up uncultivated land in the village. Second, the ulayat kaum, which belongs to a smaller group, under a senior Bundo Kanduang (grandmother/great-grandmother) and her titled brother (penghulu) who share a rumah gadang, land and penghulu title. Rice fields, gardens and other inherited items (pusako) are also categorised in terms of origin, consisting of high inheritance (pusako tinggi) and low inheritance (pusako rendah). A rumah gadang is considered pusako tinggi, which means it is owned through female descent and may not be sold. Proceeds from pusako tinggi land cultivations can be used for: (1) Daily use; and (2) Later or urgent use, for example, rumah gadang katirisan [to renovate an old, collapsing rumah gadang], rumah gadang alun balaki [to support a woman’s adult sisters who are old enough to marry but have not yet found a husband], mayik tabujua ditangah rumah [a corpse lying in the middle of the house (funeral expenses)] and pambangkik batang tarandam [to raise the family from humiliation]. In South Solok a rumah gadang is considered pusako tinggi along with springs, ponds, rice fields, gardens and graveyards.2 Conclusion This research concludes that the South Solok indigenous community are determined to keep traditional values strong, so that Minangkabau leadership through women remains stable and can occupy strategic positions in village leadership as well as in wider political leadership. By using rumah gadang as homestay houses, where tourists enjoy the performing arts in an adat context, South Solok women negotiate the matrilineal system, drawing on their power as Bundo Kanduang to self-determine what their houses will be used for. By treating 108 IDENTITIES OF MINANGKABAU WOMEN IN THE RUMAH GADANG OF SOLOK SELATAN: SYMBOL OF BUNDO KANDUANG tourists as they treat family, Bundo Kanduang maintain an indigenous style of arts management. In reality, women who live in rumah gadang in rural areas such as South Solok are not concerned about the loss of Minangkabau heritage because they currently work within its value system which implicitly empowers them. I note that: 1. It is important that the young people who will continue the leadership understand our specificallyMinanagkabu ways of doing things. 2. The social relationships between Bundo Kanduang women in the rantau and those living in their original villages must be nurtured, so that each does not act alone but maintain a reliable power base. 3. The matrilineal system is only taught through oral agreements in each nigari; there is no standard reference book or law book. 4. The matrilineal system not only strengthens the role of women alone but protects the inheritance of all Minangkabau people. Endnotes 1 Interview with Ibuk Sastrawati, of Muaro Labuah, Solok Selatan, 15 July 2016. Current land use as such, as stated by H. Syukrial Syukur Datuk Majo Basa (South Solok district representative council). Minangkabau customary law is regulated in Indonesian law through Law No. 22 1999 and West Sumatra Provincial Regulation No. 9 of 2000. 2 References Manggis, R. (1971). Minangkabau: Sedjarah ringkas dan Adatnya. Padang, Indonesia: Sridhama. Navis, A. A. (1984). Alam takambang jadi guru: Adat dan kebudayaan Minangkabau. Jakarta, Indonesia: PT. Grafiti Press. 109 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA SOJOURNS IN SCIENCE: PLURAL FRAMINGS OF MUSIC, DISASTER AND COMMUNITY RESILIENCE IN MINANGKABAU Megan Collins GNS Science, New Zealand Introduction Along the western coast of Sumatra, Indonesia and into the volcanic Bukit Barisan ranges, there are shared performance traditions, which both create and support local ontologies of an animate alam (ecology, nature) where, for example, natural elements and musical instruments are sentient (Collins, 2003; Armida, 2005; Suriandi et al., 2012; Kartomi, 2012; Kamal, 2015). These, in turn, underpin local framings for ecological disasters. Within the interdisciplinary practices known collectively as Disaster Risk Reduction (DRR), the hegemony of global science predominates (Mercer, 2012; Briggs, 2013 Collins, 2017). In this paper I discuss ecological disasters and the performing arts in West Sumatra with a focus on local framings.1 In previous work I have discussed the creative process used by rabab Pasisia Selatan players (Minangkabau fiddle from Pesisir Selatan, the South Coast district) who disseminate disaster information in performance (Collin, 2017).2 Here, I focus on how local communities and leaders blend performed indigenous knowledge and associated practices with global DRR.3 In Indonesia, as Shannon, Hope and McClosky note, plural understandings of disasters are normalised, with scientific knowledge only one of a selection of knowledge systems that locals draw from when framing ecology and consequently ecological disasters. Some local knowledge may be ‘opaque’ to outsiders but it is the resulting behaviour that is important for DRR (2011). The complexities of Indonesia’s diverse faith communities and multiple ethno-linguistic groupings, can prove challenging for what is known in Indonesian disaster science as sosialisasi. That is, the communication and implementation of disaster education and mitigation.4 In this paper, I examine performed local knowledge about a flash flood and the West Sumatran knowledge system, adat nagari (custom of the Minangkabau village polity). I also look at how the animate alam is maintained by rabab Pasisia performers through sentient instruments and healing practices. Local DRR methods include using instruments as sonic warning systems and the mobilisation of prayer groups, as civil defences volunteers and I will examine these. I will end with a discussion on Post-Disaster Needs Assessments (PDNAs), the fiscal assessments through which local and international aid is distributed. Disaster Performance—Puti Sari Makah Along the coast a mythical woman called Puti Sari Makah is known for her powers to control storms and water. She appears in the beloved classic sung narrative kaba “Sutan Pangaduan”. Half-sister of the titular prince, she rescued his mother by flooding the coastal plains and releasing Puti Andam Dewi from her untouched hilltop confinement. Her story is retold in sung narratives and theatre productions, on VCDs and YouTube.5 Puti Sari Makah appeared in New Zealand in April 2017, when the performance group Sanggar Seni Nan Gombang, from Painan, toured their randai theatre show6 as a social-cultural spin off from StIRRRD, a DRR programme between Indonesia and New Zealand. Their performance in New Zealand centred on victims of the 2011 South Coast floods, where a young woman known to the performers lost her life, near Kambang. Choreographer Hj. Ellya Ridanti and dramaturge Hosrizal Yaman set the story with Sari Puti Makah as the manipulator of the flood. In the randai, Armida Alimar sang their contemporary kaba in Minangkabau, which was then acted by the eight dancer/singer/actors. Ramsil Fahri accompanied them on rabab Pasisia. The use of the classic kaba characters along with the inclusion of the recent flood keeps the knowledge of river and coastal inundation along the exposed coastline alive in the local memory. The belief that certain people can control water lives on. A tunganai is a fisherman who is sensitive to the conditions of the sea and with supernatural talent can read signs from nature and protect colleagues from storms Ontological Difference and Adat Nagari Global science practitioners have long acknowledged the importance of local knowledge in their work (Wisner, Gaillard & Kelman, 2012; Lambert, 2013; Syafwina, 2014). From my experience, disaster scientists 110 SOJOURNS IN SCIENCE: PLURAL FRAMINGS OF MUSIC, DISASTER AND COMMUNITY RESILIENCE IN MINANGKABAU incorporate social-cultural knowledge into risk modelling but locally specific framings are often outside their expertise. Local framings are important because, as leading climate change scientist communicator, George Marshall (2014) explains in his book, Don’t Even Talk About It, scientists can talk data to people all they like but if the information is not presented within local framings, the urgencies flounder. With Indonesian decentralisation reforms, regional autonomy laws in 1999 and 2000, saw a ‘re-Minangization’ of governance at village level in West Sumatra. The nagari (Minangkabau village polity) was reinstated as the smallest unit of governance, ensuring that local knowledge systems are increasingly represented and mainstreamed (von Benda-Beckman & von Benda-Beckman, 2013).7 This nagari-ization provides space for Minangkabau ways of doing things and DRR is an arena where this is developing. A courageous man in West Sumatra might be given a title on marriage of Sutan Gampo Alam (Prince of the Earthquakes), which reflects the region’s high seismicity. Global science will explain earthquakes through plate tectonics and floods through hydrology and geomorphology. In West Sumatra people understand disasters this way too, but also through location-specific, Minangkabau knowledge (adaik, Ind. adat), which blends devout Sunni Islam and matrilineal inheritance and matrilocal residency patterns (Hadler, 2008).8 For many people this blend also includes Sufi-oriented practices and vestiges of earlier blended Hindu-Buddhist animate ecologies (Abdullah, 1970; Hadler, 2008; Kartomi, 2012). People code switch different framings daily and act on associated knowledge. Alam Takambang Jadi Guru—The Unfurling of Nature is our Teacher For many people ecological disasters originate in a natural world that is looked to as a guide for living within adat nagari. The following beloved pepatah-petitiah (aphorism) underpins Minangkabau ecological views, alam takambang jadi guru (the unfurling growth of nature becomes our teacher) (Navis, 1984; Hakimy, 1994; Amir, 1997; Ilyas, 2014). Armida, who plays Puti Sari Makah explains, In general Minang people always try to see nature as a teacher. This is because nature does not lie to anyone. It is nan sabana—the truth. So look after nature and the balances within nature (personal communication, Gisborne, April 4, 2017). Amida refers here to adat nan sabana adat (the true custom) which is derived equally from the observable forces in nature and Islam (Sanday, 2002). Incorporating the immutable adat nan sabana adat and three other flexible categories (Amir, 1997) adat nagari is fundamentally oral, based on discussion and consensus (musyawarah jo mufakat) affording the resulting decisions (kato sepakat), local resonance. However, many proverbs have been written down which demonstrate governance ideals. For example, the deliberation process should work towards consensus, ‘Like the roundness of water in a bamboo node, so the roundness (inclusion) of consensus’ [Bulek aia dek pambuluah, bulek kato dek mufakat] (Ilyas, 2014, p. 18). Maintaining an Animate Alam As a performer of rabab Pasisia I came to understand how senior players help maintain the animate alam in West Sumatra. Their instruments, which they use to accompany disaster narratives, for example, are considered sentient.9 Imbued with isi (a supernatural presence) they protect the player and audiences from malevolent observers (see Collins, 2003). A jimat (M. small protective package, for example of a sanctified object, wrapped in tin and red cloth) is sometimes placed inside the body of the instrument. The jimat also absorbs negative energy as my late rabab Pasisa teacher, Anis explained, “If a person shouts out, “Hey this tukang rabab is bad I say to myself let it pass, never mind because that goes into the jimat” (Anis, personal communication, June 16, 2000). The fourth string is always left loose and never tuned, so the tukang rabab will be alarmed if he hears it sound. “If it is tightened in a performance people will not allow you to play. It is dangerous. It can call people out from their houses by itself.” Senior performers within the rabab Pasisia scene are also often healers (dukun). This medical role, which is reasonably public, intersects with more discrete, women-centred healing rituals, for example the anak balam alternative medicine ritual. Three women, the anak limau (children of the lime) are entranced by a dukun known as the Bundo Kanduang of the ceremony10 and call on orang halus (supernatural beings) and animals to heal patients (Armida, 2005; Kamal, 2015). Randi Suriandi et al. (2012) note that humans cannot live without helping one another in a crisis and that ‘the other’ includes the supernatural. Popular rabab Pasisia player, Siril Asmara, has released a VCD of a staged anak balam with dance movements modified 111 MEGAN COLLINS from the ritual and profane pantun lyrics.11 Interactions with an animate alam, such as the concept of isi and anak balam medicine, demonstrate West Sumatran ontological diversity through which risk is assessed in daily life and may affect how people react during disasters. Local Civil Defence Having considered the animate alam, I turn now to examine how space is made for ontological diversity within adat nagari governance when used in local civil defence practices. Leaders with DRR responsibilities often wear two hats, one for their role within national processes and one within the indigenous adat nagari system. Civil defence leaders, Red Cross co-ordinators and civic leaders are often also penghulu (kinship leaders). Experienced orators through adat nagari, they move between the two governance systems, while working on DRR projects. On the active volcano Gunung Marapi (Fire Mountain) in Agam district, civil defence groups (Kelompok Siaga Bencana, KSB) use local instruments as sonic emergency-warning systems and are mobilised through pre-existing prayer societies. In Lassi nagari, the sarunai tanduak, which is made from a buffalo horn, is typically sounded for any type of emergency, from a lost child to a lahar flow.12 The local civil defence group Marapi Alert, has incorporated the sarunai tanduak into their civil defence, along with 1-metre tall katengtong bamboo rattles. Up to ten rattles are sounded in an emergency. Although also equipped with cell-phones, the team prefers to use both indigenous and global messaging systems, as cellphone reception often fails during a seismic event (E. Murhadi, personal communication, February 9, 2017). Marapi Alert is assembled from a Sufi-oriented tarekat (Arb. brotherhood association) who practise dikia rabano (Arb. zikir, M. devotional vocal and frame-drum ensemble). The lyrics they sing, tell the life-story of Mohammad. Their leader Edi Murhardi suggested that the devotional sessions not only keep everyone interested in DRR, (which he acknowledged can be dull), but the social cohesion of the tarekat keeps the team together, so that new DRR information and drills can be learnt (E. Murhadi, personal communication, February 9, 2017). Further around the mountain the local Red Cross branch in Sungai Puar use adat nagari leadership in their community hazard plan, as well as that of the district council, where Bundo Kanduang and their titled brothers the penghulu men, appear as such on emergency lists. Local coffee shops (lapau) where men gather before and after work are used to socialise DRR training (A. Jais, personal communication, February, 2017). Rumah gadang are also suitable places for sosialisasi meetings, about which Armida noted: If we are talking about disasters it is best to talk about that in the rumah gadang. The carvings around us as we sit represent nature-human relationships, what we wear; it all references our Minangness (Armida, personal communication, April 2, 2017). Concluding Remarks Ontological difference is not generally represented in international humanitarian models, for example PostDisaster Needs Assessments. Culturally nuanced assessments are developing (Wilson & Ballard, 2017) but mainly focus on the built environment, for example museums and archives. Performer-centred questionnaires, along with those about the economy, health and infrastructure may help. By making visible local performers and the ontological differences within which they work, timely assistance could support this diversity. Endnotes 1 West Sumatra sits on the boundary of the Sunda plate, under which the Indo/Australia plate subducts. The coastline is vulnerable to coastal abrasion, and river flooding is common. 2 This is done with the transferable poetic cell, the Sumatran-Malay sung pantun and unrhymed kaba ‘lyrical prose’. 3 My paper draws on 20 years of engagement with rabab Pasisia performers, and also as a cultural consultant with New Zealand’s GNS Science in Wellington, working on projects associated with a collaborative programme between New Zealand and Indonesian scientists, Strengthening Indonesian Resilience: Reducing Risk from Disaster or StIRRRD. 112 SOJOURNS IN SCIENCE: PLURAL FRAMINGS OF MUSIC, DISASTER AND COMMUNITY RESILIENCE IN MINANGKABAU 4 Sosialisasi emerged as an important concern at a March 2017 seminar in Wellington run by StIRRRD and attended by Dwikorita Karnawati, head of Indonesia’s Agency for Meteorology, Climatology and Geophysics (BMKG). 5 See, rabab Pariaman singer/players Amir Hosen and Monen’s14 cassettes/ CDs, on YouTube at rabab sutan pangaduan. 6 Circular randai combines silek martial arts, stylized acting and dendang songs (see Pauka, 1998). 7 The use of the Javanese desa was rescinded in 1999 with Law no. 22/1999 Regional Autonomy. West Sumatra Provincial Government Regulation No 9/2000 then strengthened nagari governance. 8 Expressed by “Adat basandi syara, syara basandi kittabullah” [Custom is based on sharia and sharia is based on the holy books]. 9 Siril Asmara’s disaster-themed VCD, “Kejadian Banjir Bandang Pasisia Selatan” (The Flash Flood on the South Coast) details the 2011 floods. 10 Birth mother, senior owners of the rumah gadang. 11 YouTube, Rabab Pesisir Selatan, CHILD BALAM—Siril Asmara & Erni Kampai. 12 The buffalo horn roof design of Minangkabau rumah gadang is an architectural marker of Minangkabau territory. References Abdullah T. (1970). Some notes on the Kaba Tjindua Mato: An example of Minangkabau traditional literature. Indonesia, 9, 1-22. Amir M. S. (1997). Adat Minangkabau: Pola dan tujuan hidup rrang Minang. Jakarta, Indonesia: Mutiara. Armida Alimar. (2005). Tradisi nyanyian anak balam dalam pendukunan dan pertunjukan rabab Pasisia di nagari Kambang Pesisir Selatan. Sarjana S1 Institute Seni Indonesia, Padangpanjang. Collins, M. (2003). The Minangkabau rabab Pasisia: Music performance and practice in West Sumatra, Indonesia (Unpublished doctoral dissertation).Victoria University of Wellington, Wellington, New Zealand. Collins, M. (2017). Remembering Krakatau: Indigenous knowledge and disasters in Indonesia. In P. Matusky & W. Quintero (Eds.), Performing arts and the religious impulse in Southeast Asian, endangered performing arts – Maintenance and sustainability efforts, new research. Proceedings of the 4th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on the Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (pp. 61-65). Penang, Malaysia: Universiti Sains Malaysia. H. Idrus Hakimy Dt. Rajo Penghulu. (1994). Pokok-pokok pengetahuan adat alam Minangkabau. Bandung, Indonesia: Remaja Rosdakarya. Hadler, J. (2008). Muslims and matriarchs: Cultural resilience through Jihad and Colonialism. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Ilyas, A. (2014). Minangkabau worldview: Knowing of the four, understanding of the two, belief in the oneness God. Palembang, Indonesia: Lembaga Kekerabatan Datuk Soda. Kamal, Z. (2015). Nyanyian anak balam: Terapi mistik perdukunan ke seni pertunjukan rabab pasisie di Pesisir Selatan Sumatera Barat. Humanus, 14(2), 165-173. Kartomi, M. (2012). Musical journeys in Sumatra. Champaign, IL: University of Illinois Press. Marshall, G. (2014). Don’t even think about it: Why our brains are wired to ignore climate change. New York, NY: Bloomsbury. Navis, A. A. (1984). Alam terkembang jadi guru: Adat dan kebudayaan Minangkabau. Jakarta, Indonesia: Grafiti Press. Pauka, K. (1998). Theatre and martial arts in West Sumatra: Randai and Silek of the Minangkabau. Southeast Asia Series No.103. Athens, OH: Ohio University. Sanday, P. R. (2002). Women at the center: Life in a modern matriarchy. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Shannon, R., Hope, M., & McCloskey, J. (2011). The Bengkulu premonition: Cultural pluralism and hybridity in disaster risk reduction. Area, 43(4), 449-455. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/ stable/41406028 Suriandi, T. H. K. & Syeilendra. (2012). Nilia-nilai pendidikan lagu anak balam pada pertunjukan rabab Pasisie dalam pesta perkawinan nagari kambang, Kabupaten Pesisier Selatan. Padang, Indonesia: Universitas Negri Padang. 113 MEGAN COLLINS Syafwina. (2014). Recognizing indigenous knowledge for disaster management: Smong, early warning system from Simeulue Island, Aceh. Procedia Environmental Sciences, 20, 573 - 582. Retrieved from https://doi: 10.1016/j.proenv.2014.03.070 Siril (Cyril), A. (2011). Rabab Pesisir Selatan, banjir bandang pasisiah Padang [Video file of VCD]. Padang, Indonesia: Sinar Padang. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCgVW_ 4hh5w Von Benda-Beckmann, F. & von Benda-Beckmann, K. (2013). Political and legal transformations of an Indonesian polity: The Nagari from Colonisation to decentralisation. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Wilson, M. & Ballard, C. (2017). Safeguarding and mobilising intangible cultural heritage in the context of natural and human-induced hazards. Intangible Cultural Heritage Section: UNESCO. Retrieved from ich.unesco.org/doc/src/38266-EN.pdf Wisner, B., Gaillard, J. C., & Kelman, I. (2012). Framing disaster; Theories and stories seeking to understand hazards, vulnerability and risk. In B. Wisner, J. C. Gaillard, & I. Kelman (Eds.), The Routledge handbook of hazards and disaster risk reduction (pp. 18-33). New York. NY: Routledge. 114 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA BELIAN DADO’ (KENYAH DANCE-SONGS) ACROSS BOUNDARIES OF LANGUAGE AND ETHNICITY IN MUSIC EDUCATION Chong Pek Lin Independent Scholar, Malaysia Introduction The Kenyah are a minority indigenous group of Malaysia who dwell on the upper reaches of four of Borneo’s major rivers: the Baram and Balui in Sarawak, and the Mahakam and Kayan in Kalimantan. Music plays an integral part of their life, with musicking activities centred at the communal veranda of the longhouse. While their instrumental music and dance are well-known cultural attractions, their rich choral singing repertoire is seldom heard outside their remote villages. This paper deals with one category of Kenyah songs, the belian dado’, sung while performing a linedance where participants move counter-clockwise in single file along the veranda. Evolving over the last seventy years in remote villages, they now face extinction due to rural-urban migration and displacement of populations with the construction of hydroelectric dams. I have been documenting these songs since 1995, conducting fieldwork in seven locations in the Baram (Long Moh, Long San, Long Selatong, Long Mekaba, Long Tungan Long Semiyang and Long Lama) and three in the Balui (Uma Sambop, Uma Badang and Uma Baka’). Although Malaysia subscribes to the philosophy of multiculturalism, there is little published material available on folk music. Music education approaches such as those of Kodály and Orff are strongly encouraged, but there is a shortage of songs, especially those in non-diatonic scales to effectively implement these methods. The songs taught in many schools are mainly diatonic, monotonously similar in form and seldom reflect the musical traditions of the diverse ethnic groups in the country. This paper examines whether these songs can be brought across the boundaries of ethnicity and language to meet the acute shortage of folksongs in Malaysian formal and non-formal education. Musical Characteristics of Belian Dado’ Belian dado’ are regular metrically, often 4/4, with some flexibility in the beat, unlike older categories of Kenyah songs which display free rhythm. They consist of a fixed number of phrases of irregular length and have a strophic structure. Melodies built on the anhemitonic pentatonic scale predominate (75%), but there are also others in major, hemitonic pentatonic and other scales. Multipart choral singing is a common feature, observed in at least 44% of the songs. A unique characteristic is that the accompanying voice or kerahang (chorus) is melodic, generally following the contour of the melody at intervals of thirds, fourths, fifths and sixths. This contrasts with older repertoire where the chorus is sung on a monotone on the tonal centre. In most of the multipart songs transcribed, the descant or alto itself constitutes a distinct and attractive melody. This characteristic makes the songs especially suitable as teaching materials, as the subsidiary voice is easily taught and remembered by rote. From Longhouse to Classroom From 2004 to 2006 (as part of the project From Upriver Longhouses to the Modern Classroom) and from 2007 to 2009 (as part of the ISME -Gibson project) these songs were introduced to teacher-trainees in Institute of Teacher Education (ITE) Batu Lintang, Sarawak, schoolteachers and students through dissemination workshops and subsequently taught to primary schoolchildren in actual school contexts from 2011–2012. Data in the form of personal experience, direct observation, oral feedback, and written responses to questionnaires confirmed that selected examples from the various categories of songs mentioned were viable materials for the music classroom. The hypothesis that the songs would be appealing to children as well as adults was borne out by the enthusiastic participation of young schoolchildren as well as of adults. Investigating the Responses of Schoolchildren to Kenyah Songs A study on the teaching and learning process of the songs in regular music classes in the schools was conducted between 2011 and 2012 (Chong, 2014, pp. 240-267). For a period of 8 weeks, selected classes of 115 CHONG PEK LIN elementary school pupils were taught (along with other songs) several Kenyah songs applying the Kodály approach of movable-do. The teachers were free to choose any songs from the books supplied (Chong, 2006; Chong & Lajinga, 2011). Activities included singing, dance-movements associated with the songs, playing the tunes on the recorder and free dramatization. Written feedback was obtained through two questionnaires. The reactions of the schoolchildren to the songs were gauged both quantitatively through responses to several statements using a five-point Likert scale, and qualitatively based on their answers to several open-ended questions. Feedback from the teachers was collected during post-lesson discussions and through a separate questionnaire for teachers. The sample population consisted of children aged between 8-11 years from 6 Chinese-medium schools and 5 Malay-medium schools in Sarawak, taught by 12 teacher trainees from ITE Batu Lintang during practicum and 4 trained music specialist teachers. I personally taught one Year 5 class from a Malay-medium school, SK Ong Tiang Swee. Except for SK Chung Hua Stapok (68% Chinese), over 90% of the children in the Chinese medium schools were of Chinese descent. In the Malay medium schools, Iban children constituted 97% in two schools, Bidayuh 88% in another school, Malay/Melanau 77 % in the third, while SK Ong Tiang Swee had a balanced ethnic mixture of Malay/Melanau, Iban, Bidayuh and Chinese. Crossing Boundaries of Ethnicity: Initial Reactions When I met with the teacher-trainees for a mid-term review, one disturbing fact emerged. Over 90% of the pupils had never heard of the Kenyah and were unable to name the different indigenous groups of Sarawak, except for the Iban. The trainees reported that they introduced the Kenyah community to their pupils by showing pictures and video-clips. When relating the children’s reactions to the first Kenyah song each of them taught, a spectrum of responses emerged, with some showing interest, while others were disinclined to struggle with unfamiliar lyrics. Subsequently, several trainees borrowed sape and jatung utang and to the delight of their students utilised them in class while teaching the songs. By the end of the eight weeks, it was clear that most of the children had become fond of the songs, as shown in the discussion below. The following anecdote from my teaching stint at SK Ong Tiang Swee serves to illustrate the impact of teaching of songs with local cultural context (Chong, 2014, pp. 243-247). I showed the class video-clips of Kenyah song and dance and taught them to play some tunes on sape and jatung utang. They were fascinated, eager to learn the songs and to sing them in the original language. One favourite song was Ilun Kuai (Orphaned Argus pheasant). The lyrics, featuring mystical orphaned kuai, and the sad, gentle tune, seemed to strike a chord with the children. I brought a long feather spectacularly covered with ‘eye-spots’ and an Iban hat decorated with Argus feathers. Among the questions were: “Is the feather real?”, “Is it plastic?”, “Is the bird extinct?”, “What does it taste like?” “How does it clear the dancing ground? (The second verse, ‘kuai mekat’, refers to the male pheasant scraping the ground in preparation for a mating dance). The children learnt to sing the song, first in unison and later in harmony— this was manageable as only the last short phrase was in two parts. Playing the melody with the descant on the recorder helped them to distinguish between the two parts. The lyrics to three of the verses are given below (Chong & Lajinga, 2011). Ilun Kuai Kuai maping Mudung suling apau payan Ilun kuai Translation Pheasant fanning From the everlasting mountains and plateaus Orphaned pheasant. Kuai mekat Lide silat sang usan Ilun kuai Pheasant scratching The decaying leaves of the fan-palm Orphaned pheasant. Kuai meku Nalan bio ne te tengang Ilun kuai Hoarse-voiced pheasant Caught in a big trap Orphaned pheasant. Later, in groups of seven, they practiced two verses each and presented the song with dramatization (using supplied props) and recorder accompaniment. The children enjoyed the exercise immensely while cultivating an appreciation of both Kenyah culture and an awareness of endangered fauna. 116 BELIAN DADO’ (KENYAH DANCE-SONGS) ACROSS BOUNDARIES OF LANGUAGE AND ETHNICITY IN MUSIC EDUCATION Responses to the Written Questionnaire (Chong, 2014, pp. 252-260) The questionnaire consisted of two sections. Section A contained 6 statements to which the students were asked to rate their responses using a Likert scale. Section B consisted of 5 open-ended questions. For the purposes of this paper, only responses to the first 3 questions in Section B are discussed. 1. Do you feel that Kenyah songs are suitable for teaching in class/or for performance at school events? Compare them with the composed songs in the existing Kurikulum Bersepadu Sekolah Rendah (KBSR) /Integrated Primary School Curriculum and pre-school books. 2. Choose two songs that you particularly like and explain why you like them. 3. What is your opinion on Kenyah traditional multipart singing? The written responses from all eleven schools indicated clearly that the songs had made an impact on the children. Question 1 evoked responses from such as: (i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v) Songs are special compared to others; Something new/Something different Through songs we can learn a different language/We can learn Kenyah language Yes, the songs are peaceful/Yes, more soothing to the spirit than other KBSR songs Very special and we can learn about another culture. More interesting than Chinese songs Rich with culture Responses to Question 2 Although a person’s ‘favourite song’ may arguably vary from day to day, this question was designed to elicit from the respondents the characteristics of songs which rendered them attractive. The overall analysis served to indicate which types of songs and which specific characteristics appealed to most of the respondents. The sincerity of their responses could be judged from the adjectives that they used, such as “attractive” or “pretty” tunes, “hao ting” (Chinese, literally ‘pleasing to hear’) “enjoyable”, “soothing” and “peaceful”. Based on research involving children aged 6-9 years, Nieminen et al. (2011, p. 1143) found that the adjective ‘beautiful’ is used often in judging music and propose that the concept of beauty in music seems to emerge around the age of 6 years in association with the formation of culture-specific knowledge of tonality. Responses to Question 2 were analysed by coding into various categories as shown in Figure 1: Figure 1. Responses to Question 2 (Chong (2014, pp. 258-259) 117 CHONG PEK LIN The most frequent reason (84 responses) given for liking a song is “attractive melody”, followed by (44) that the songs were “enjoyable”. A considerable number thought the songs were easy to sing/remember (23) and that the songs were calming and peaceful (20). The majority voted for the light-hearted, shorter songs taught at most of the schools, such as Sai Ulai. The slower, sentimental songs such as Kun Nelane (see Figure 2) were only taught at 4 schools. Despite being fond of these songs themselves, the other trainees were hesitant to teach them, perceiving them as being too challenging for their young charges. Significantly, for the latter 4 schools, the most popular songs were these sentimental belian dado’. From my experience in SK Ong Tiang Swee, and my observations at three other schools, the children not only learned the melodies and memorized the lyrics; they sang these nostalgic songs with nuance and sensitivity. I was especially impressed with the rendition of Kun Nelane at SK Chung Hua Stapok, as this slow, melancholic song consists of long phrases that I did not envision young children would appreciate or strive to memorize in an unfamiliar language. The teacher-trainee concerned related that they had initially struggled to pronounce the lyrics, but persevered because they were “so interested in the song” after he had sung it to them. Figure 2. Kun Nelane (Chong, 2006) Responses to Question 3 The responses of SK Ong Tiang Swee to Question 3 surprised me. I had expected most to answer that it was difficult, as I had found it a struggle teaching Ateklan in two parts to them. Instead, the majority replied that learning to sing in harmony was easy. Perhaps this was because most could sing Ilun Kuai (where only the last phrase was in harmony), or that many were choir-members, who, with more training, succeeded in mastering Ateklan. The most insightful answers came from 7 children, who opined that singing in parts may be challenging but achievable: “Yes, with training or effort /Difficult at first but easy after practising/Easy if we are interested.” At workshops with schoolchildren from 2006-2009, teams of student demonstrators have successfully taught songs such as Lane Tuyang in two-part harmony within 20 minutes. The presence of multiple demonstrators is a good simulation of the longhouse setting, where one picks up part-singing naturally when surrounded by others singing in harmony. Trainees also succeeded in teaching two-part songs through pair-teaching, a productive strategy encouraged during practicum. In approaches such as those of Kodály and Orff, homophonic harmony is placed late in the sequence of teaching of musical concepts. Both music educators recommend that children first be exposed to simple harmonies such as ostinatos and round-songs. Homophonic and chordal harmony are only taught later. 118 BELIAN DADO’ (KENYAH DANCE-SONGS) ACROSS BOUNDARIES OF LANGUAGE AND ETHNICITY IN MUSIC EDUCATION Perhaps it is time to consider the merits of using songs from multipart traditions such as the Kenyah where harmony is picked up naturally as an oral-aural tradition. Crossing Boundaries of Language As the Kenyah language is unfamiliar to most Malaysians, would this present a major obstacle to the learning of the songs? From what I have observed during dissemination efforts, Kenyah lyrics were mastered easily, as, like Malay it is an Austronesian language, and phonetically bears many similarities to the latter. During public choir performances, Kenyah lyrics were retained wherever possible. In less formal settings, we arranged for a verbal introduction to the songs, and translations were given in the program notes. In 2007 we incorporated Kenyah songs into a musical drama “Dayang Petri and the Magic Rice” singing alternately in Malay and Kenyah. We also successfully surmounted the language barrier in a 2017 production featuring a cast of trainee teachers enacting a mini-opera featuring seven belian dado’ Love triangle in Ulu Baram using only Kenyah lyrics. Some trainees were initially sceptical about teaching the songs in school during practicum. Although they were confident that the melodies would be well-received, they were doubtful if their pupils could cope with lyrics in an unfamiliar language. However, many of these trainees later reported that their pupils enjoyed the novelty of singing in another language and quickly learnt the lyrics. Instrumental Accompaniment Traditionally, belian dado’ is performed a capella, accompanied only by rhythmic stamping on the wooden longhouse floor. However, this is not practical in an urban setting. As part of the ISME-Gibson project, Kenyah instruments such as sape, jatung utang and lutong were purchased for ITE Batu Lintang. The trainees learned to play the instruments for public performances and made good use of their skills in the classroom. Although using sape and jatung utang would lend a traditional atmosphere to the performance, they were not practical for a series of songs in different keys. Jatung utang can only play in one fixed key while a sape would need to be retuned (impossible to execute in the middle of a performance). In recent performances, we have struck a balance by using a combination of traditional and contemporary instruments. The Kenyah themselves have begun to add keys to the jatung utang and frets to the sape in order to play diatonic songs. Implications for the Culture-Bearers Kenyah students we met during our workshops were gratified as before this they may have been aware of the songs but were unable to sing them on their own. A Kenyah teacher-trainee at ITE Batu Lintang related that only when she learnt to sing belian dado’ with the institute’s choir, did she begin to value the intricacy of the melodies and harmonies. Kenyah informants, on viewing video-clips of performances were pleasantly surprised that their repertoire could be presented in this way and that people of other ethnicities would be interested in their songs. In January 2008, as part of the ISME-Gibson project, I led a team of ITE Batu Lintang students to Uma Sambop and Uma Badang for a dual mission: to observe Kenyah music directly in the longhouse context as well as to introduce the songs with a Kodály approach in the schools. We surprised our hosts at both villages by performing belian dado’. This was received with both enthusiasm and amusement. At the schools, we conducted workshops with some apprehension as we were teaching Kenyah songs to 65 Kenyah and Kayan children but were soon put at ease by their warm response. Theresa Ubong Nawan and Juliana Usun Kallang, grand-daughters of Temenggong Oyong Lawai Jau (the late paramount chief of the Kenyah) who attended a presentation and workshop on Kenyah songs at ITE Batu Lintang in 2012, were immensely moved when the students performed the songs of their childhood and thanked us for our efforts. Nonetheless, Kenyah informants have also critiqued our pronunciation and singing style and this has helped improve later presentations. Conclusion Belian dado’ with their elements of varied tonality, melodic appeal and culturally meaningful texts, are readily amenable, with minor adaptations, to stage performance and inclusion into music education programs. 119 CHONG PEK LIN The predominantly anhemitonic tonality makes them ideal for the earlier stages in the Kodály sequence of teaching melodic concepts while the traditional harmonies are useful for teaching of harmonic concepts. Responses from participants indicate a widespread recognition of the aesthetic appeal of the melodies and harmonies, as well as the cultural worth of the lyrics. The responses from schoolchildren were insightful, showing a real appreciation of the characteristics of Kenyah melodies. The reactions of the culturebearers towards recontextualization has been warm and positive, though there have been some noteworthy criticisms to bear in mind for future dissemination strategies. References Chong, P. L. (2006). Songs from the Baram: Kenyah songs from upriver longhouses. Kuching: Sarawak Development Institute. Chong P. L. (2014). Kenyah recreational songs and their significance to music education (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Pretoria, South Africa. Chong, P. L. & Lajinga, A. A. (2011). Introduction to selected instrumental ensembles and folk songs of East Malaysia. Kuching: Institute of Teacher Education, Batu Lintang Campus. Nieminen, S., Istok, E., Brattico, E., Tervaniemi, M. & Huotilainen, M. (2011). The development of aesthetic responses to music and their underlying neural and psychological mechanisms. Cortex, 47, 11381146. Retrieved from http://www.elsevier.com/locate/cortex. (doi:10.1016/j.cortex.2011.05.008) 120 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA CROSSING BORDERS FROM VILLAGE TO RECORDING STUDIO—CONTINUITY AND CHANGE IN SINDING SECULAR SINGING AMONG THE KADAZAN DUSUN OF SABAH, MALAYSIA (Lightning Paper) Jacqueline Pugh-Kitingan Universiti Malaysia Sabah, Malaysia Introduction “Crossing Borders,” one of the themes for this Symposium, encompasses not only traversing boundaries of location and ethnicity, but transecting performative frontiers within cultures into new contexts and eras through change. Hence, this short paper traces the development of Kadazan Dusun popular music from traditional secular singing to the establishment of Sabah’s music industry, and briefly discusses the impact of this on other contexts and cultures. The Kadazan Dusun are the largest indigenous and largest overall ethnic group in Sabah, Malaysia’s northernmost state on Borneo Island. They have many genres of traditional music. Vocal music includes long poetic ritual chanting, non-ritual verse debates, storytelling, classical poetic types and sinding or songs. In tracing the development of Kadazan Dusun pop songs from traditional sinding, several questions emerge. What are the characteristics of traditional and contemporary sinding? What developments have enabled traditional sinding to form the basis of the Kadazan Dusun popular music industry? Who are some of the leading Kadazan Dusun singers? And, what impact has popular sinding had on music in other contexts and cultures? Traditional and Contemporary Sinding Sinding simply means “singing” or “song” (modsinding = to sing). This is also known as lonsoi in one village in the northern part of Tambunan District, and humozou or lumozou and hius among the coastal Kadazan of Penampang. Sinding includes love songs, drinking songs, morning wake-up songs, and others. The term is never applied to the traditional ritual chanting of sacred poetry (rinait) by priestesses. Classical genres of old sung secular poetic forms and call-and-response genres are also not regarded as sinding, although some people describe the vocal style of those genres as such (Pugh-Kitingan, 2004, pp. 45-66). Traditional sinding consist of poetic stanzas of two or four lines with melodies based on ahemitonic pentatonic tonal material sung in a rich full-throated vocal timbre. Sinding melodies are as important as their lyrics. Songs can be handed down over generations or created by individual singers. Contemporary sinding can also be traditional songs, or new compositions. They normally have traditional anhemitonic pentatonic melodies, but are accompanied by diatonically-tuned electric band instruments. The band beat and rhythms resemble gong beating or tinindot for dancing, whether the magarang from Tambunan or its slower Penampang sumazau version. Contributing Historical Developments Various factors influenced the development of contemporary sinding. These included the advent of the guitar in interior villages, the development of Radio Sabah and RTM Sabah and emergence of recording studios. After World War II, North Borneo first became a British Crown Colony in 1946. Infrastructure was gradually restored and interior areas received outside goods including the guitar. This became popular for entertainment. It was played at social gatherings and sometimes accompanied traditional sinding (PughKitingan, 2014, p. 95). Although wireless radio was present in North Borneo from 1921, Radio Sabah developed from 1952 during the colonial era as part of the Information Office (Wong, 2015, p. 170; Jamal, 2015, p. 103). Radio provided outside news and brought new musical sounds into remote interior villages. Radio Sabah recorded and used local music in their broadcasts. Some musicians’ music was reproduced on vinyl discs in Singapore and Kuala Lumpur. These were kept in the Radio Sabah archives and played over the radio. The late Datuk Peter Pracas from Kuala Lumpur was Radio Sabah’s first Music Director. He settled and married in Sabah, and developed the first radio band Sabah Serenaders (later RTM Combo). His compositions included fusion of traditional western music (Funk, 2013, pp. 11-13). 121 JACQUELINE PUGH-KITINGAN With Malaysia’s formation in 1963, Radio Sabah became Radio Malaysia Sabah. During the 1970s, Sabah had its own television station featuring local artists accompanied by the orchestra or combo band. By 1980, Radio Television Malaysia or RTM subsumed local radio and television as RTM Sabah under the Department of Information. The band became Combo RTM. RTM Sabah had proper recording studios for its music productions. From around 1968, the private recording studio, Syarikat Seh Huat Recordings Sdn. Bhd., operated in Kampung Air, Kota Kinabalu. They produced thousands of cheap cassette recordings of many Kadazan Dusun singers under their Kinabalu Records label. Several singers, however, alleged the studio did not pay promised royalties. Thus, by the 1990s, Kadazan Dusun singers began to establish their own studios in Tambunan and Penampang. With digital technology developments, many artists now produce their own recordings. This has encouraged the burgeoning Kadazan Dusun music industry, largely based on popular sinding. Some Key Singers and Musicians Latifah Gindug from Ranau is a popular singer from the 1960s. Although her lyrics were usually in Kadazan Dusun, her music was accompanied by strings in kroncong style. Datuk Justin Stimol from Penampang, another renowned singer from the 1960s, recorded with both RTM Sabah and Seh Huat Recordings. Now in his late seventies, he continues to produce songs. His musical style shows some influences from both folk and American country music, in addition to Kadazan Dusun songs. The popular sinding style of today became fully developed in the music of the late Datuk John Gaisah from Tambunan. He performed during the late 1970s until his tragic death by car accident in 1981 at age 26. His copious output recorded on the Kinabalu Records label includes landmark songs such as Miniagal Oh Sinsing and Oi Gidi. His style continues to influence popular sinding. Many other singers have come from Tambunan, including Justin Lusah, the late Ambrose Mudi, David Yuntala, Lorena Ingging, Mary Intiang, Evaristus Gungkit, and Jimmy Palikat. All have performed in the distinctive sinding style in Kadazan Dusun language, although some more recent songs include Sabah Malay dialect lyrics. Younger 21st century performers from Tambunan, such as Candy Clement and Nera (Queenera Francis Kitingan) have achieved national acclaim through the Malaysian televised series Akademi Fantasia. They have branched out into other styles of popular music. Impacts of Kadazan Dusun Pop Sinding Contemporary sinding features prominently in events of the annual state-level Pesta Kaamantan (Harvest Festival), such as the Bintang Kaamatan dan Kugiran (“Kaamatan Stars and Bands”) competition and later in the Bintang Kaamatan. Today, this event is now the Sugandoi competition where singers must perform both a sinding and a Malay pop song, accompanied by live band (Pugh-Kitingan, 2014, p. 96). This contemporary sinding is regarded as an expression of the Kadazan Dusun cultural identity. This style of Kadazan Dusun pop music has also impacted indigenous church music. Christian sinding, such as the widely popular Mamarayou Oku Kinorohingan (“I Praise You, God Most High”), are important in indigenous church worship. The development of the Kadazan Dusun pop music industry through recording contemporary sinding has influenced the emergence of pop music in other communities. The Rungus, Timugon Murut, west coast Bajau and others now create their own pop music. As among the Kadazan Dusun, these are produced and sold on CDs and in karaoke versions. Conclusions Both traditional sinding and contemporary Kadazan Dusun pop songs are sung in a rich full-throated vocal timbre. They are based on poetic stanzas with anhemitonic pentatonic melodies. Contemporary songs, however, are accompanied by electric band instruments that play the basic dance rhythms of traditional gong ensemble music for dancing. This emergence of this contemporary genre began with the entrance of the guitar into remote villages after World War II that initiated a trend of accompanying traditional songs with the instrument. Meanwhile, 122 CROSSING BORDERS FROM VILLAGE TO RECORDING STUDIO—CONTINUITY AND CHANGE IN SINDING SECULAR SINGING AMONG THE KADAZAN DUSUN OF SABAH, MALAYSIA the development of radio and television through Radio Sabah and RTM Sabah saw the recording and broadcasting of both traditional music and new Kadazan Dusun songs. This, together with the mass production and distribution of cassettes by renowned Kadazan Dusun singers such as Justin Stimol and John Gaisah by Syarikat Seh Huat Sdn. Bhd. and later other locally-owned studios, led to the burgeoning of the Kadazan Dusun pop music industry. Although he died at a young age, the prodigious output of songs by the late Datuk John Gaisah established the characteristic style of popular sinding, especially among subsequent singers from Tambunan. The development of the recording industry and spread of songs through new media, has led to the emergence of staged singing competitions including sinding as representative of Kadazan Dusun vocal music at the statelevel Kaamatan. It has also encouraged the composition of new indigenous Christian worship songs in the sinding style, and has inspired the development of popular songs among other communities in Sabah. Postscript Sadly, with the move of RTM Sabah from Wisma Radio and Wisma RTM in Tuaran Road to the new large premises of the Department of Broadcasting Malaysia Sabah in Lintas Kepayan several years ago, the huge archives of vinyl records and taped recordings was destroyed. Instead of donating these to the Sabah State Archives, the Department of Sabah Museum, or the local branch of the National Archives in Kota Kinabalu, part of this priceless musical collection was allegedly thrown in garbage dumpsters while the rest was allegedly buried. The old historic premises and its furniture had been used by the Cobbold Commission in 1962 which led to the formation of Malaysia in 1963. Although these were protected under state heritage enactments, one of these buildings has been demolished and the other lies in ruins. It is not known of what became of the historical furniture and studio recording equipment that should have been but were not donated to the Department of Sabah Museum. References Funk, J. (2013). Sabah songs: Contemporary music in Sabah. Kota Kinabalu, Sabah: Opus Publications. Jamal, M. (2015). Radio Malaysia Sabah dan Radio Brunei Darussalam: Satu tinjauan format penerbitan dan siaran. Jurnal Komunikasi Borneo, Edisi Khas (Konvokesyen ke-17 UMS), 101-115. Pugh-Kitingan, J. (2004). Selected papers on music in Sabah. Kota Kinabalu, Sabah: Kadazandusun Chair, Universiti Malaysia Sabah. Pugh-Kitingan, J. (2014). Sustaining musical heritage and adapting to change among the Kadazan Dusun of Tambunan, Sabah, Malaysia. In C. S. C. Chan & J. Penny (Eds.), Sustainability in music and the performing arts: Heritage, performance and education (pp. 81-103). Tanjong Malim, Perak: Penerbit Universiti Pendidikan Sultan Idris. Wong, D. T. K. (2015). The name of Sabah and the sustaining of a new identity in a new nation. Archipel, 89, 161-178. 123 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA JAZZ EDUCATION IN SOUTHEAST ASIA (Lightning Paper) Don Bowyer Sunway University, Malaysia Though jazz has been performed in Southeast Asia for nearly a century, formal education in this genre was not available until more recently. While there are undoubtedly a variety of influences fueling the recent rise in jazz interest in the region, one factor seems to be the emergence of the non-profit organization Jazz Education Abroad (JEA). Jazz found its way to Asia as early as 100 years ago, initially in the port cities of Shanghai, Tokyo, Manila, and Bombay, often arriving on cruise ships. During these ports of call, American and European jazz musicians from the ships played in venues in these port cities, with some ultimately staying in Asia as performers and private teachers. Early Asian jazz musicians studied with these professional musicians, were self-taught, or went overseas to study jazz. One hundred years later, there are only four undergraduate jazz degrees in ASEAN nations: Mahidol University and Rangsit University in Thailand, the University of Santo Tomas in the Philippines, and LaSalle College of the Arts in Singapore. Jazz Education Abroad (JEA) was founded by Dr. Gene Aitken in 2012 as a 501c3 non-profit organization in the USA. Aitken retired in 2002 from the University of Northern Colorado after 27 years as Director of Jazz Studies. He subsequently moved to Southeast Asia where he worked at Mahidol University and the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music at the National University of Singapore. After retiring from NUS in 2007, Aitken spent several years involved with US State Department activities in Asia and the Middle East. JEA is an international organization of jazz educators dedicated to teaching jazz outside the USA, and defines its mission: “to increase cultural, musical, and educational awareness through the teaching of American jazz to youth from different backgrounds and regions of the world.” JEA Board Members include Mariano Abell, Director, Kathmandu Jazz Conservatory; Dave Glenn, Professor Emeritus, Whitman College; Phil Dunlap, Director of Education and Community Engagement, Jazz St. Louis; Dan Gailey, Director of Jazz Studies, University of Kansas; and Christine Guter, Director of Vocal Jazz, University of California Long Beach. The JEA Advisory Board includes Peter Erskine, Dave Liebman, Jamey Aebersold, and Eric Marienthal. Over the past six years, JEA has partnered with, produced, or presented numerous jazz workshops, festivals, and programs throughout Asia, Europe, and the Middle East. A sampling of JEA events in 2017 includes workshops in Thailand, Lebanon, Cyprus, and Hong Kong. Specific to Southeast Asia, the annual Thailand Jazz Workshop has grown over the past five years to include more than 350 students, coming from Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam, Singapore, and Indonesia. The first Thailand Jazz Workshop in 2014 involved 50 students for a weekend workshop. In 2018, the weeklong workshop at Rangsit University hosted 350 students participating in big bands, combos, a vocal jazz choir, a jazz strings workshop, instrumental masterclasses, and improvisation classes. Other recent JEA activities include the Cyprus Jazz Workshop in July 2018 at European University Cyprus, the Lebanon Jazz Workshop in July 2018 at Notre Dame University-Louaize, the Hong Kong International Jazz Education Festival in October 2017, and the Fu-Jen University Jazz Camp in February 2018 at Fu-Jen University in Taipei. Jazz Education Abroad will present the first Malaysian Jazz Workshop in October 2018, hosted by Sunway University and ASWARA, the National Academy for Arts, Culture and Heritage. Students will participate in big bands, combos, instrumental masterclasses, and improvisation classes. Through these activities, Jazz Education Abroad contributes greatly to the level of jazz playing throughout the region. References Attarian, H. (2016, October 4). Jazz from around the world: Asia. Retrieved from https://www. allaboutjazz.com/jazz-from-around-the-world-asia-by-hrayr-attarian.php Barendregt, B., Keppy, P., & Schulte Nordholt, H. (1969). Popular music in Southeast Asia. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. 124 JAZZ EDUCATION IN SOUTHEAST ASIA Field, A. (2017). Asian jazz diasporas: Performing jazz in Pacific port cities, 1920-1945. Retrieved from https://iias.asia/the-newsletter/article/asian-jazz-diasporas-performing-jazz-pacific-port-cities1920-1945 Jazz Education Abroad: Mission and Vision (n. d.). Retrieved from http://www.jazzeducationabroad. org/jea/mission-and-vision/ Keppy, P. (2013, October). Southeast Asia in the age of jazz: Locating popular culture in the colonial Philippines and Indonesia. Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 44(3), 444–464. Retrieved from doi:10.1017/S0022463413000350 Russell, J. (2017, April 25). Crossing language barriers with jazz education in Asia. Retrieved from https://learningenglish.voanews.com/a/jazz-education-in-asia/3825400.html 125 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA MUSIC OF SOUND: EMPOWERING YOUNG PEOPLE IN RECREATING POPULAR MUSIC GENRES USING 21ST CENTURY PEDAGOGICAL APPROACHES FROM MULTIPLE INTELLIGENCES PATHWAYS Toh Lai Chee Institution of Teachers Education, Malaysia Introduction This paper addresses the methodology of “Music of Sound” as a platform in empowering young people to recreate Malaysian popular performance genres across ethnic, cultural and stylistic boundaries using 21st century pedagogical approaches from multiple intelligences pathways. “Music of Sound” pioneered by Tan Sooi Beng (professor of Ethnomusicology at the University Sains Malaysia in Penang, and a keen advocate of multi-arts community for young people) in 1989, is an experimental music which aims at shaping the personal development of an individual and the making of drama, music or dance by the participants themselves (Tan, 2008). Based on ethnomusicological tasks such as field work, interviews, observation, learning to play and perform traditional instruments and music of various ethnic groups, as well as improvising music, the participants generate new ideas in recreating local Malaysian popular genres through inquiry and creative thinking from multiple dimensions. The methodology of “Music of Sound” encourages the participants to (i) observe the environment and conduct research in a community; (ii) undergo skill training in learning to play the traditional music instruments such as gamelan (the ensemble of bronze and wood percussion instruments) and wayang kulit (the shadow play) as well as to improvise music using daily objects, voices and body parts; and (iii) apply creative thinking skills to re-enact scenes and stories gathered during their field trip into their musical composition. Methodology The methodology used in this research is based on longitudinal multi-site case study approach where the data on “Music of Sound” methodology is collected repeatedly over a period of time (2007-2015) during workshops’ practice in the heritage sites of George Town, and in the Institute of Teachers Education in Penang (2012-2016). The case study approach is used to provide detailed and in-depth data on the methodology of “Music of Sound" as well as the creative thinking process applied by the participants from multiple pathways in recreating Malaysian popular music genres. Multiple cases are used to provide more compelling evidence and to predict similar results (literal replication) or contrasting results but for predictable reasons (Yin, 2003). The multiple cases selected in this study comprise the following chronological workshop performances (see Table 1). Table 1. “Music of Sound” Workshops (2007-2016) The sample population for “Music of Sound” workshops is primarily multi-ethnic and includes students from both genders in the primary school (11-12 years) and secondary school (13-19 years) in the north-eastern district of Penang as well as student teachers from the Institute of Teachers Education in Penang (18-20 126 MUSIC OF SOUND: EMPOWERING YOUNG PEOPLE IN RECREATING POPULAR MUSIC GENRES USING 21ST CENTURY PEDAGOGICAL APPROACHES FROM MULTIPLE INTELLIGENCES PATHWAYS years). The purposeful sampling comprise participants who are passionate in the performing arts such as music, dance and drama. Professor Tan Sooi Beng is the director of the “Music of Sound” workshops conducted in the inner city of George Town, while the researcher is the prime music facilitator of the workshops. Methodological triangulations are used to maximise the construct validity and reliability in this research. Multiple sources of evidence used to establish sufficient operational measures for the concepts being studied include direct observation, participant-observation, individual and focus group interviews, video documentation of participants’ performances and their reflections. Focus group interviews which entail a set of questions of an open-ended nature are conducted to enable the participants to share their own insights and experiences on the approaches and strategies used in the methodology of “Music of Sound”. Discussion What are the 21st century pedagogical approaches and strategies used in the methodology of “Music of Sound” to empower young people to recreate Malaysian popular genres? How do participants explore and merge ethnic, cultural and stylistic boundaries to recreate the Malaysian popular genres collaboratively using their intelligence strengths? The discussion of this paper is based on Howard Gardner’s Theory of Multiple Intelligences (2004). Gardner (1999) conceptualized intelligence as a computational capacity that entails the ability to solve problems and fashion products that are of consequence in one or more cultural settings. Gardner (2000, 2006) proposed project scaffolding from multiple entry points to provide an opportunity for children to marshal previously mastered concepts and skills in the service of acquisition in new challenges. The entry points suggested comprise dramatic narrative, logical syllogism, numerical classifications in different niches— existential or foundational, aesthetic presentations, and experiential and collaborative participation. The two pedagogical approaches used in “Music of Sound” workshop are the experiential and the collaborative participation approaches. The collaborative approach enables joint intellectual efforts, sharing of authority and acceptance of responsibility among group members through discussions, clarifications of ideas and evaluation of other’s ideas. As said by Clifford (2011), working as an ensemble enables the individual to attain higher level thinking and preserve information for longer times. In the experiential approach, the participants explore and interact directly with the materials that embody or convey the concept in a concrete form (Gardner, 2006). This approach seeks to build understanding and appreciation of the content and key concepts of music through a hands-on practice. Strategies from multiple intelligences pathways used to diverse concepts in learning and creating music include language, logical mathematical analyses, visual-spatial illustrations, physical engagements, musical experiences, an interpersonal understanding of others, an intrapersonal knowledge of self, and an experience in the natural world. Throughout the whole program of “Music of Sound” workshops, participants are encouraged to form smart partnerships and work together through experiential and collaborative learning. A smart partnership is formed by grouping participants with different ethnic, gender, cognitive abilities, personality knowledge and linguistic background so that they are able to work as an ensemble collaboratively. In their smart teams, participants from “Music of Sound” workshops are given the artistic freedom to re-enact rap and local popular street genres such as dikir barat,1 boria2 and Chinese chants across ethnic, cultural and stylistic boundaries reflecting the rich tapestry of George Town. The whole process of recreating local popular genres is oriented according to the participants’ interests and capacities using multiple intelligences pathways. Embodying the key musical concepts such as pitch, rhythm and tone colours, new perspectives were given to the local popular street genres, chants and raps. Participants re-enacted scenes of historical sites, trades and multi ethnic cultures through music and movements as well as a mixture of languages and dialects heard during their field trip. Through the collaborative and experiential approach, participants with linguistic prowess from different ethnicities marshalled quatrains of artistic verses against a set rhyming scheme (of boria, dikir barat, rap and chant) in a multilingual landscape. Participants with kinaesthetic capacities guided their friends in transforming daily actions and elements from ethnic cultures into rhythmic movements. Those with musical precocity generated suitable songs and logical soundscapes by executing interlocking rhythmic patterns, pitches and tone colours using daily objects, body parts, vocalization and traditional ethnic instruments. Budding visual artists crafted props to conjure up mental images of the diverse communities in the multitude of different streets in George Town. The history of George Town was manifested in the names of streets, trades and multiple languages spoken in the piece entitled Georgetown Hebat (2013). The participants re-enacted the history of Church 127 TOH LAI CHEE Street in the form of dikir barat, sung in the English language to a Malay folk tune, Chan Mali Chan and accompanied by the saron and gendang Melayu. The trades of the Indian ethnic group in Market Street were sung in the Malay language to the tune of the popular Hindustani song, Bole Curiya in dikir barat form. The unmistakable history of China Street was interjected with some Hokkien words to the tune of Inang Cina accompanied by interlocking rhythms played using spoons and saron (see lyrics in Example 1, Example 2 and Example 3). In the small town We have church street within the part of World Heritage site It has appeared in 1798 One of earliest street to be laid in Georgetown. Example 1. Church Street Little India, dekat market street, Orang India, buat bisnes, Jual rempah, gelang-gelang, dan juga emas, Banyak sari, semuanya cantik-cantik, Little India, ohh.. Example 2. Market Street Lebuh Cina, orang Cina buat bisnes, Dimulakan oleh tauke Koh Lay Huan, Orang hokkien panggil lebuh ini jalan Tua-Kay, Macam-macam dijual, sangat meriah, sangat lau-juak. Example 3. China Street The same methodology is used in bridging the traditional and local popular street genres in the theatrical entitled Wayang Chulia (2015). The innovative performance displayed highly collaborative skills among the puppeteers, musicians, singers and visual artists where they juxtaposed dikir barat against the wayang kulit (shadow play) performance. The participants with kinaesthetic capacities skilfully manipulated the shadow puppets in a well-honed sense of timing to the exuberance of the reverberating gongs and rhythmic pulsations of the traditional wayang kulit drums such as gendang, gedumbak and geduk that were played by participants with musical prowess. The singers sang regaling tales experienced by the local community in dikir barat form. Visual artists crafted leather puppets and props to conjure up mental images of the communities in Chulia Street, George Town. Figure 1. Collaborative skills between puppeteers and musicians (Photos: Toh L. C., 2015) 128 MUSIC OF SOUND: EMPOWERING YOUNG PEOPLE IN RECREATING POPULAR MUSIC GENRES USING 21ST CENTURY PEDAGOGICAL APPROACHES FROM MULTIPLE INTELLIGENCES PATHWAYS Contemporary genres such as rap formed the basis of new creative pieces created by the young participants. For example, in the rap piece entitled Ronggeng Merdeka (2007), the Chinese medicine shop was translated in a rap which featured an eclectic blend of the Hokkien dialect along with the Malay and English languages accompanied by body percussion (see lyrics in Example 4). OK, now hold your breath Mr. VIP Kalau tak percaya dalam the whole street GUA KUA TEO EE EH LOR OO LANG SI So cepat duduk di atas tikar ini Kalau you makan ubat yang GUA bagi Badan fit and healthy GUA guarantee Lima puluh gram of tepung tanduk QI KIN EH OR CHO PAO SOM strengthens your QI Example 4. Chinese Medication shop A new twist is given to the Chinese chant in the Hokkien dialect and the Malay language to portray the livelihood of the vegetable seller in the piece titled Opera Pasar (2008). The chant is accompanied by the Chinese drum shigu, the Malay geduk drum and the plastic barrel as time markers instead of the conventional Chinese wood blocks. The methodology of “Music of Sound” is also introduced to student teachers in the Institution of Teachers Education in Penang. The result of collaborative and experiential learning among peers from multiple intelligences pathways also pushes boundaries towards creative boria and dikir barat performances. The advent of new communicative media and secularization of the expressive forms prompted new styles in the introductory movement of boria by student teachers with highly evolved kinaesthetic intelligence. For example, one of the groups created movements reflecting the action of rowing into the stage depicting scenes from the movie Pirates of Caribbean with points of repose and shift. Student teachers with musical competencies illuminate new songs for boria and dikir barat performances while their peers with linguistic strengths help to incorporate linguistic command of phonology, syntax, semantics and pragmatics into their creative expression to portray sentiments regarding current social issues. Student teachers with exquisite sensitivity to visual arts recreate boria costume paraphernalia using the unusual possibilities of recycled materials. Multi-coloured layers of plastics bags are glued to plastic mineral water bottles to create the resemblance of colourful layered sleeves worn by the sailors; and shimmery sweet and biscuit wrappers are entwined around thin sticks of coconut fronds to model palm blossom (bunga manggar) carried by the boria performers (Toh, 2015). Findings The overall findings from various “Music of Sound” workshops demonstrated that empowering young people in recreating popular genres using 21st century pedagogical approaches from multiple representations managed to engage participants to internalize local popular street genres in a new way and thus revitalize the local tradition. As said by an 18 year old participant of mixed parentage, “I feel that joining this workshop is really refreshing because we've never done it before. In secondary school we did learn about dikir barat and boria in theory but it's definitely not the same as learning from hands-on and creating it by ourselves. We get to combine it with whatever we've learnt in the music segment creatively, so it's a bit unorthodox (traditional and modern) but when you see it as a whole it's very interesting.” One of the participants of Chinese descent declared, “Get to ‘go’ into the culture of other races, learn about their art forms, better than history books.” Young participants from focus group interview also agreed that the methodology engaged them in learning new popular street genres. As said, “We feel very happy because we have learnt many things that we have not learnt before like dikir barat and boria and their performance styles. It has motivated us to learn more about our local forms.” According to Tan (2008, p. 81; 2015, p. 127), “Empowerment ensures that musical traditions will be conserved in their traditional socio-cultural contexts of performance, rather than in the archives.” 129 TOH LAI CHEE Collaborative learning through smart partnerships from different ethnics, gender, cognitive abilities, personality’s knowledge and linguistic background engendered valuable learning experience in sharing responsibilities, developed cross cultural understanding, creativity, ideas, and artistic knowledge. Hence, contributes towards changing expectations and perceptions in positive ways. As revealed by young participants, “Music of Sound sparks our creativity in lots of ways.” Intercultural mixing through intensive workshop also encouraged active interaction and enhanced understanding among children of different ethnicity. As declared by a 16 year old participant, “It made me more open minded. Well, this happens because there are so many different ethnics [ethnic groups] here that we start to look at things the way they look [appear]… from different perspectives, Also [This has also] made me more sociable. I learned to cooperate with other musicians so that the whole piece synchronize [synchronizes] creatively.” Experiential approach from multiple pathways capitalized the participants’ cognitive potential and served as spring board to reinforce personal development besides initiating a process of self-awareness and discovery. As said by a participant with rhetoric and poetic skills, “I won’t have any single regret joining this workshop. I like rapping and this is the opportunity for me to do solo rapping! I realised that I can rap and have gained self-confidence in performing.” Reflections from one of the student teachers’ in her journal writings concluded, “The casualness of configuring representations has made us aware about the usefulness of recycled materials. I also got to know new ways to produce music and sounds. I learnt that music is universal and it can be formed by anything.” One of the young participants also said “We discovered that we can make different shapes with our body such as triangle, wall, pin, ball, pyramids, and pins through creating movements collectively. Most important all movements and steps must have a reason.” As stated by Gardner (2006, p. 141), “Some students-old as well as young learn best with hands-on approach, dealing directly with materials that embody or convey the concept.” The methodology of “Music of Sound” has also promoted a fun learning environment besides enabling the participants to appreciate their diverse cultures. As said, “It is 200% more fun than learning in schools.” “It is really awesome; we are able to make this performance from nothing to something, from zero to hero.” Other participants were quick to add, “The whole process was fun, enjoyable and engaged us in learning and understanding the musical characteristics besides appreciating other ethnic’s culture.” Conclusion The findings showed that rich and creative experiences via multiple representations across boundaries developed insights, musical knowledge and skills; serves as venues to enhance the participants’ appreciation towards local popular performance genres and inculcate the value of lifelong learning experience besides appreciating cultural diversity. It also increased active participation and motivation levels among the participants to explore using their own interest, capacities and creative thinking. The children gained selfconfidence from appreciating his/her own best learning abilities in a positive and creative learning environment. Endnotes 1 Dikir barat is a popular form of secular entertainment among the village Malays of Kelantan and of the southern Thai provinces. This form features the singing of a four-line pantun in responsorial style between a solo singer and a chorus. While singing, the chorus move their arms, hands and upper torso rhythmically to the music (Matusky & Tan, 2017, pp. 332-340). 2 Boria is a popular syncretic theatre and music in Penang. The performance comprises two segments which feature the same story or theme. The first segment consists of a comic sketch while the second segment includes a song and dance routine presented by a solo singer and a chorus. The solo singer sings in a set rhyming scheme, accompanied by a band and at the same time the chorus moves in a dance routine. When the solo singer finishes, the chorus dance and repeat the lyric and melody of the verse sung by him (Matusky & Tan, 2017, pp. 77-81). References Amabile, T. M. (2010). Growing up creative. USA: The Creative Education Foundation. Campbell, L., Campbell B., & Dickinson, D. (2004). Teaching and learning through multiple intelligences (3rd ed.). USA: Pearson Education, Inc. 130 MUSIC OF SOUND: EMPOWERING YOUNG PEOPLE IN RECREATING POPULAR MUSIC GENRES USING 21ST CENTURY PEDAGOGICAL APPROACHES FROM MULTIPLE INTELLIGENCES PATHWAYS Clifford, M. (2011). Collaborative learning tips and strategies for teachers. Retrieved from https://www.tea chthought.com Gardner, H. (1999). Intelligence reframed: Multiple intelligences for the 21st century. New York, NY: Basic Books. Gardner, H. (2000). The disciplined mind: Beyond standardized tests, the K-12 education that every child deserves. USA: Penguin Group. Gardner, H. (2004). Frames of mind: The theory of multiple intelligences (1st ed.). New York, NY: Basic Books. Gardner, H. (2006). Multiple intelligence: New horizons (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Basic Books. Matusky, P. & Tan, S. B. (2017). The music of Malaysia: The classical, folk and syncretic traditions. (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Routledge. Tan, S. B. (2008). Activism in Southeast Asian ethnomusicology: Empowering youths to revitalize traditions and bridge cultural barriers. Musicological Journal: Applied Ethnomusicology, 1, 69-83. Tan, S. B. (2015). Cultural engagement and ownership through participatory approaches in applied ethnomusicology. In S. Pettan & J. T. Titon (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of applied ethnomusicology. Retrieved from doi: 10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199351701.013.6 Toh, L. C. (2015). Strategies and approaches in the teaching and learning of boria in the Institute of Teacher Education and Schools in Penang. Malaysian International Journal of Research in Teacher Education, 1, 60-72. Yin, R. K. (2003). Case study research: Design and methods (3rd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications. 131 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA KALEIDOSCOPING GLOBAL ETHOS THROUGH LOCAL RESPONSES IN THE MALAY WORLD: THE CASE OF DESPACITO Leonardo García Fuenzalida Pôle Supérieur Paris Boulogne-Billancourt, France Released in January 2017, Despacito became the most viewed music clip in the history of the Internet,1 garnering 5.5 billion YouTube views by September 2018. The reggaeton hit featured Puerto Rican stars Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee.2 A second mix (2017, April) included Canadian star Justin Bieber. Video 1: Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee In spite of featuring reggaeton, a genre currently blamed for its misogynistic lyrics and violence, the success of Despacito generated myriad versions worldwide through eclectic arrangements, satirical lyrics or ethic transpositions. In the Malay world, and mainly in Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore, local versions highlighted a sonic “tropicalism”3 and “bahasitude”,4 globalizing mainstream planetary culture through local responses. These concern traditional gamelan and anklung ensembles as religious pop music embedding qasidah with westernized sounds. This paper seeks to examine how mass-media culture generates local identity through the globalization of mainstream exotic imaginaries and religious ethos beyond the traditional conceptions of rites and beliefs as stated by Durkheim (1912). Latin Global Popular Music and Reggaeton Along the twentieth-century global popular music diversifies into categories including the idea of “Latin” generated in the USA during the pre-WW2 period (Cramer, 2012). Latin global popular music (LGPM) arises as a commercial brand subdivided into Argentinian (tango), Brazilian (samba, bossa-nova), Mexican (ranchera) and Hispanic-Afro-Caribbean (rumba, mambo, bolero, son). LGPM relates to major Latin American clichés as eternal partying, leisure and sensuality, becoming an exotic buyable counterpart to the capitalistic ethic values of self-merit and hard-working. Most of the musical characteristics of LGPM can relate to global popular music concerning a binary rhythmic conception linked to the prevalence of 4/4 meter, cyclic harmonic progressions or symmetric formal structures. However, main rhythmic approaches in LGPM focus on internal asymmetric subdivisions of the meter, as clave5 or the habanera, composed by a 3+1+2+2 pattern resulting from the superposition of 3+3+2 and 4+2+2 structures (Sandroni, 2000). The habanera rhythm is particularly important as it diffuses worldwide since the nineteenth century though Spanish and Cuban zarzuela and classical Western music. Habanera features the French sonic imaginary of espagnolade (“Spanishing”) as in Bizet’s Carmen or in Ravel’s Pièce en forme d’habanera and during the twentieth century this sonic espagnolade joins successfully the exotic imaginaries of LGPM through the habanera rhythm in rumba. In the Asia-Pacific the habanera diffuses through two main axes: (1) In the genesis ballroom during the 1920-30s in Japan and Shanghai, mainly through tango and rumba (De La Peza, 2006). These centres are not only interacting with Western music and musicians though the Pacific Jazz Network (Zheng, 2014) but also generate their own local/regional music life. (2) In the music of local cinema productions, mainly in Hong-Kong and Singapore. Indeed, several Malay Golden Age movies of the 1950-1960 feature habanera in Malay folk music arrangements of inang or asli, resulting in a sort of nostalgic Malay (Zubillaga-Pow, 2014) rumba flavour that joins that of Hollywood music productions during that period (Van de Heide, 2002). 132 KALEIDOSCOPING GLOBAL ETHOS THROUGH LOCAL RESPONSES IN THE MALAY WORLD: THE CASE OF DESPACITO Video 2: Rumba-like mak inang dance rhythm from film “Sumpitan Rachun” (Cathay Keris, Singapore, 1961)6 Video 3: Perreo Tutorial7 (Probably recorded by Argentinian instructors highlighting the impact of reggaeton in the Americas.) The habanera pattern is also the basic rhythmic frame of reggaeton, sustaining a strongly eroticized couple dance known as perreo (“like a dog”) where partners mimic canine copulation. Reggaeton also characterizes through vocals shared by two singers; the former incarnating an idea of “romantic”, with a polished tone, and the latter that of “badass”, with a rough and more aggressive energy. This vocal alternation highlights a switchable dual conception of a Latin masculinity gliding between romanticism and brutality. In Despacito these rolls are performed by Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee, respectively. Diffusing Despacito and Globalizing Reggaeton The origins of the term reggaeton remain confusing as in Spanish it would mean a sort of “big reggae” (reggae + the augmentative particle tón). However, reggae and reggaeton strongly differ in their respective music, ethos, corporality, fashion and political ideas. Unlikely to reggae, reggaeton does not seem to have a geographically rooted origin, but developed through transnational networks, mainly in the Unites States and Puerto Rico. In the Americas, reggaeton has been considered to be as a sort of LGPM equivalent of gangstarap. Through its planetary diffusion, Despacito generated a series of local instantaneously accessible productions enhancing the possibilities of real time interactions among interconnected audiences. I could observe a group of Taiwanese and Latin American YouTube fans inter-evaluating an Arab cover of Despacito through common mondialized perceptions of alterity, particularly concerning sonic and idiomatic contents being perceived as so fascinatingly exotic. Several of these audiences even seemed to share the experience of a virtual voyage through common exotic representations of the world. Indeed, their approach to exotic covers of Despacito seems to be unassociated from planetary recognizable sonic frames (harmony, formal symmetry), just the same way as fast-food multinational companies conquer world markets adapting exotic recipes through collective knowledgeable tastes.8 However, even if it is partly through this exoticism that Despacito overpassed the stigma of reggaeton, in July 2017 its diffusion was banned from the public broadcasting channels in Malaysia for a supposed incompatibility with Islam. Already since early 2017, the Malaysian Islamic party, Parti Amanah Negara, had been blaming Despacito for its explicit sexual content. Finally, its banning was announced by Malaysia’s communication minister Salleh Said Keruak,9 who also invited private media to self-censor.10 The rejection of Despacito by Malaysian authorities and conservative political parties mainly seems to target the choreographic content as scarce Bahasa lyric translations have been diffused in a region where a low percentage of the population understands Spanish.11 However, and in spite of the ban, Despacito has been widely publicly diffused in Malaysia mainly by local folk and rock bands, buskers, religious singers, MCs and a panoply of interconnected music and dance communities. Malaysia’s banning of Despacito is a relevant case concerning the evolution of political Islam. Indeed, unlike in Malaysia, most of the strongly conservative Islamic countries, including Brunei, Iran, Pakistan or Saudi Arabia, allowed or at least tolerated its diffusion. “Kaleidoscoping” the Local Video 4: Despacito (Malay Female Version)13 Video 5: Despacito (Malay Male Version)14 Malay versions of Despacito globalize through compound sonic and choreographic elements generating dynamics of métissage (Gruzinski, 2004) and creolization (Glissant, 2005)12 through three main axes: multicultural negotiation, intercultural impregnation and transcultural appropriation. Multicultural negotiation refers to covers of Despacito featuring transformations that adapt to local social ethos. For example, in a Malay context of gender separation, female covers feature a lyrical-romantic mood by omitting sexually explicit lyrics as well as the habanera rhythmic pattern of reggaeton. This aspect contrasts with male Malay covers that strongly feature the reggaeton rhythm in spite of changing the lyric content. 133 LEONARDO GARCÍA FUENZALIDA The rhythmic approach of habanera associates here to a sonic identity of masculinity separated from a feminine sonic tapestry defined by its absence. Indeed, rhythm can highlight in this case the multicultural gap between local gender separation and mondialized Latin explicit heterosexuality. Video 6: Busking Despacito in Jogyakarta15 Intercultural impregnation includes here the paraphrasing of Despacito through recognizable frames of local culture as global forms (pop, hip-hop). Malay paraphrased versions feature dangdut and keroncong as well as traditional-rooted anklung, and bamboo ensembles that can also integrate pop grooves, cyclic harmonic progressions and a collective performing implication through local instruments and/or body techniques (Mauss, 1936). These versions can also include the participation of street-dancers featuring choreographies combining local gestures with elements of break-dance or hip-hop. Video 7: Cover by Dodi Hidayatullah16 Transcultural appropriation here highlights several music and semantic transpositions between global cultural frames and local transpositions. Probably relating to the ban of Despacito in Malaysian public media, several Malay “Muslim versions” were released as sort of local responses to the issue. This draft focuses on two Indonesian covers, the former featuring MCs Dodi Hidayatullah and Ibnu TJ and the latter featuring religious singer Gus Aldi. In the first version the original groove, arrangement and instrument functions as well as the shared dual vocal rolls (romantic Luis Fonsi by Dodi Hidayatullah and badass Daddy Yankee by Ibnu TJ) relate to the original. However, choreographic content avoiding couple dance as the representations of the feminine are completely different, with the exception of the transposition of the image of Virgin Mary in the original version to the Muslim scarfed young girl, as coinciding symbols incarnating the idea of pureness. This Muslim version also features softened Bahasa lyrics where original Despacito switches to Thank You My Dear (curiously in English) inducing the ambiguity about the sense of Dear, being dedicated to the scarf-clad girl, to God, or both. Video 8: Maher Zain17 Video 9: Gus Aldi18 A second Muslim version featuring religious singer Gus Aldi is based on the late eighteenth-century qasidah, “Ya Nabi Salam Alayka” (Imam as-Sayyid Jafar ibn Hassam ibn Abdal Karim al-Barzanji) linked to Mawlid (birth of Prophet Muhammad). Already a pop-music hit based on this qasidah was released in 2011 featuring Swedish-Lebanese singer Maher Zain. Even if Gus Aldi’s video presents Despacito (with the Malay pronunciation “despachito”) and cites Luis Fonsi, Daddy Yankee and Justin Bieber as the authors, its melodic lines, arrangement and lyrics result quite distant from those of the original. Indeed, Gus Aldi paraphrases the main melody over an arrangement featuring psychedelic-like vintage electronics. He also performs simultaneously the opposing rolls of Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee, even if resulting in a softer vocal contrast. The images of the video are certainly inspired in those of Maher Zain’s hit, with Gus Aldi distributing the good-news letters among people and highlighting a sort of universal empathy. The lyrics of this version alternate original classical Arabic of qasidah with Bahasa, generating a sort of supra-modern local combination of global referents (reggaeton, pop culture, qasidah, mawlid, Arabic song…) and joining Bahasa to the transmission of religion and culture. Conclusion Far from being a mass-media sonic “no-place” (Augé, 1992), the diffusion of Despacito in the Malay world inserts into a continuity of local appropriations of LGPM, including the métissage and creolization of Latin imaginaries. However, and in spite of these exotic references, the political contingencies generated here by Despacito also reveal the interdependence between the evolution of local culture and social ethos. Indeed, the appropriation of the semantic content of reggaeton in the Malay world passes through a complex negotiation of issues, transcending music and dance and highlighting the contingencies of morals, religion and identity. In this case Despacito transforms through a myriad of sonic dynamics defining Malay 134 KALEIDOSCOPING GLOBAL ETHOS THROUGH LOCAL RESPONSES IN THE MALAY WORLD: THE CASE OF DESPACITO globalization as well as through the creolization of Islam through “Bahasitude,” generating social cohesion beyond the frames of national borders and ethnicity. Endnotes 1 Platforms such as Instagram or YouTube allow quite accurate public tracking concerning the number of views of their videos. 2 Luis Fonsi. (2017). “Despacito ft. Daddy Yankee.” Retrieved from https://youtu.be/kJQP7kiw5Fk 3 “Sonic Tropicalism” here does not refer to the Brazilian centred literary and philosophical movement of the 1950-1960’s, but rather to a global sonic matrix diffusing during the twentieth century through radio, recorded media, and cinema. “Tropicalistic” sonic elements in the Malay world include the use of Caribbean percussions such as maracas, bongos and congas as well as the embedding of habanera rhythmic patterns in Malay folk music. 4 “Bahasitude” here relates to the linguistic compound of Bahasa-speaking groups not considering clear ethnic, national and regional differences. 5 Clave patterns generate polyrhythmic tapestries when superposed to basic meters. Clave patterns associate to an idiophonic instrument called clave and composed by two inter-shocked wooden sticks. Main clave patterns, associated to the tresillo Cubano, include the “3+2” (3+3+4+2+4) and the “2+3” (2+4+3+3+4) (Plisson, 2004). As with Orientalism, “New-worldism” relates here to stereotyped ideas of the Americas as the virginal Amazon rainforest, the cultural pureness of Andean societies or the easy-going life and eternal party. New-worldism and Orientalism can be compared as exotic imaginaries generated in the centres of power and nowadays diffusing transversally through a myriad of visual and aural supports ensuring their prevalence through time and transmission. 6 (2017). “Lagu filem2 seniwati Latifah Omar - Mak Inang Melayu.” Retrieved 29 September 2018 from https://youtu.be/aGlCZf42t6E 7 Academia de Baile. (2017). “Reggaeton Nivel 2 Perreo.” Retrieved 29 September 2018 from https://youtu.be/UsZb69X4w1E 8 As in the case of McDonald’s or Burger King’s “exotic” Indian, Moroccan or Argentinian menus, where the possibility to recognize a Big Mac or a Whopper sandwich co-exists with the tastes of exotic-typed dressings imitating respectively curry, harissa and chimichurri. 9 “Despacito will not be aired by the government-owned broadcast stations because we received public complaints,” Malaysia’s communications minister Salleh Said Keruak told AFP news agency. (Despacito censored: Malaysia bans ‘unsuitable’ hit from state stations - BBC News. July 20, 2017. Retrieved from https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-40665528) 10 “Meanwhile, privately-owned radio stations have been ‘encouraged’ to "practice self-censorship,’ he said”. (Ibid.) 11 While interviewing buskers in Kuala Lumpur and Sabah including Despacito in their current repertoire, I realized that not one of them really understood the lyrics of the song. 12 “Edouard Glissant: Nous sommes tous créoles”. Interview given to Thierry Clermont and Odette Casamayor. In La Création (2005). These two concepts relate to the idea of a new and unedited cultural element still containing at least some recognizable features of its original components. Both largely relate here to the cultural exchanges of globalization but would differ in the greater degree of predictableness for the latter. 13 (2017). “Despacito (Malay Female Version).” Retrieved 29 September 2018 from https://youtu. be/nEVStme93AU. 14 Incognito. (2017). “Despacito (Malay Version).” Retrieved 29 September 2018 from https:// youtu.be/gR965hqGBd0 15 Angklung Malioboro. “Despacito - Angklung (Traditional Musical Instrument Made of Bamboo).” Retrieved 29 September 2018 from https://youtu.be/8HjsOgpLoyo 16 Dodi Hidayatullah. (2017). “Despacito - Muslim Version (Thank You My Dear) ft. Ibnu TJ.” Retrieved from https://youtu.be/QKR0TcBqNqY 17 Maher Zain. “Ya Nabi Salam Alayka.” Retrieved 29 September 2018 from https://youtu.be/Vqfy4ScRXFQ. 18 Gus Aldi. (2017). “Despacito Versi Sholawat.” Retrieved 29 September 2018 from https:// youtu.be/6ROQ7ATswYM 135 LEONARDO GARCÍA FUENZALIDA References Augé, M. (1992). Non-Lieux. introduction à une anthropologie de la surmodernité. Paris: Seuil, La librairie du XXIe siècle. Cramer, G. (2012). How to do things with waves: United States Radio and Latin America in times of the Good Neighbor. In A. Bronfman & G. W. Wood (Eds.), Media, Sound & culture in Latin America and the Caribbean (pp. 37-54). Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press. De la Peza, M. (2006). Music and globalization: The impact of Latin American music in Japan. In Intercultural communication studies XV(1) (pp. 168-173). Mexico: Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana-Xochimilco. Van Der Heide, W. (2002). Malaysian cinema, Asian film: Border crossings and national cultures, film culture in transition. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Durkheim, E. (1912). Les formes élémentaires de la vie religieuse. Paris: Ed. Quadrige/Presses Universitaires de France. Gruzinski, S. (2004). Les quatre parties du Monde: Histoire d’une mondialisation. Paris: Éditions de la Martinière. Mauss, M. (1950). Les techniques du corps. Sociologie et Anthropologie (Originalement paru dans Journal de Psychologie, XXXII, n°3-4, 1934). Paris. 6e édition Quadrige. Presses Universitaires de France (PUF). Plisson, M. (2004). Tango. Du noir au blanc. Arles, France. Seconde édition augmentée. Collection “Musiques du Monde.” Cité de la Musique/Actes Sud. Sandroni, C. (2001) « Le Tresillo rythme et « métissage » dans la musique populaire latino-américaine imprimée au XIXe siècle ». Cahiers d’ethnomusicologie, 13. Retrieved from http://ethnomusic ologie.revues.org/675 Zheng, Y. P. (2014). Jazz from the 1920s to the present: The musicians, the spaces and the music. In J. Zubillaga-Pow & Ho C. K. (Eds.), Singapore soundscape: Musical renaissance of a global city (pp.183-198). Singapore: National Library Board. Zubillaga-Pow, J. (2014). Sejarah muzik Singapura: A short story on Malay nostalgia. In J. Zubillaga-Pow & Ho C. K. (Eds.), Singapore soundscape: Musical renaissance of a global city (pp. 99-114). Singapore: National Library Board. 136 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA MALAY CHRONICLES, THAI DRAMA, JAVANESE TALES: MAK YONG, INTERTEXTUALITY, AND PASISIR CULTURAL FLOW Patricia Ann Hardwick Fulbright Scholar to Indonesia, Hofstra University, USA Music, dances, stories, performers, and performance practices have long been circulating within maritime Southeast Asia. While there are few written documents providing detailed records of these embodied exchanges, oral histories and the study of performance practices provide some insight into the transnational and cosmopolitan nature of these performative borderlands. Drawing on past ethnographic fieldwork with mak yong performers in Kelantan, Malaysia and my current research in Riau Islands province, Indonesia, this paper traces some of the cultural, political, and performative flows between the Riau Islands, Java, the Northeastern Peninsular Malaysia, and Southern Thailand. I will also explore how the glocalized sampling of popular cultural influences in Kelantanese and Riau performance practices articulate the cosmopolitanism and complexity of Malay identity in the Thai-Malay borderlands and the Riau Archipelago. Explorations into the history of mak yong performance in Patani, Kelantan, Terengganu, and the Riau Islands take on a performative perantau, a journey cycling through phases of royal patronage and folk performance, refinement and decline, federal level support, international recognition, and state level religious bans. Ethnographic examinations of maritime Southeast Asian theatrical forms like mak yong and Kelantanese wayang kulit reveal that the practice of these forms transgress attempts to rigidly define them as classical palace arts, folk performance, or popular culture. Terms like hybridity, syncretism, bricolage, and creolisation have been fashioned by anthropologists and social scientists to address the heterogeneity of complex cultural practices (Kapchan & Strong, 1999). Drawing upon a long history of textual comparisons in folkloristics, Validmar Hafstein proposes that scholars view the dynamics of tradition as intertextual. Hafstein (2004) notes that, “in this regard, tradition is no different from other categories of creativity” (p. 307). Hafstein (2004) continues “[b]y conceiving of copying as a creative act (and conversely, creation as an act of reproduction) we undermine the logic that has contrasted the two and has articulated other oppositions to this contrast: social verses individual, folk verses elite, colonial verses Western, female verses male” (p. 310). Intertextual Exchanges within the Kelantanese Arts Complex My past research into the performative histories of mak yong artists in Kelantan reveal their engagement in a diversity of performance forms that include ‘Nura, bangsawan, wayang kulit Siam, nang talung, main ‘teri, tari inai, dikir barat, and silat. As early as 1980, Barbara Wright described a “Kelantanese Arts Complex” which she defined as including shadow puppet plays, dance drama (mak yong), martial arts (silat), and spirit exorcism (main ‘teri) (1980). When I began my research in Kelantan in 2005, I found that the social network of Kelantanese performers was tightly knit and highly interconnected. Performers had loose affiliations to particular troupes, but the exchange of performers and players for performances was common. The 1991 Parti Islam se-Malaysia (PAS) ban on wayang kulit and mak yong may have inhibited performance and transmission of traditional arts in Kelantan, however it also intensified feelings of solidarity between Kelantanese performers. Kelantanese Thai and Chinese performers obtained permits for ‘Nura or wayang kulit performances at Buddhist temples, inviting their Malay Muslim colleagues to perform in their temples (Yong, 2017). Many Malay Muslim mak yong artists deployed the diversity of their performative histories as a survival strategy, shifting to ‘Nura or mak yong-main ‘teri to continue to perform despite the (PAS) bans. 137 PATRICIA ANN HARDWICK Figure 1. Jennab binti Yaccob performing mak yong in Wakaf Baru, Tumpat, Kelantan, Malaysia. (Photo: Lim Chuen Ming, 2005) One illustration of the types of borrowing and exchange that takes place within the Kelantanese performing arts complex can be seen in an example taken from my 2005 field recording of the mak yong play Dewa Pechil in Kampung Kedemit, Tumpat. The performers circle a panggung anticlockwise, their circumambulation as an embodied metaphor for travel. The song they perform is entitled lagu berjale Menora, and as its name implies, this mak yong travelling song has musical elements incorporated both from Kelantanese ‘Nura and wayang kulit Siam traditions. The rebab and melasmic heterophonic singing style characteristic of Kelantanese mak yong is interspersed with the melodic line of the serunai adopted from wayang kulit and supported by interlocking gendang drumming patterns and gong cycles. Even the dance movements of the traveling mak yong performers echo the movement of the shadow puppet Maharaja Sri Rama as he “walks” in a slow and dignified manner across a shadow puppet screen. Another example of intertextual referencing includes the incorporation of local folksongs into mak yong clowning scenes. An example comes from my field recording of mak yong on 18 February 2006 in Kg. Gabus To’ Uban, Pasir Mas, Kelantan. Clowns Wan Midin bin Wan Majid and Hassan bin Sama playfully sing the rhymed couplets of the lyrics of Ayam Didik, a folksong often attributed to Kangar, Perlis, but that is also well known to mak yong performers residing in Tumpat, Rantau Panjang, and Pasir Mas. The dance of Ayam Didik is said to have been derived from the movements of roosters beating their wings when cock fighting. In this example, Wan Midin and Hassan combine main ‘teri, mak yong, and Ayam Didik movements as they dance, their movements embodied references to the intertextuality of their performative experiences. In 2006, Hassan was an effective Tok ‘Teri, spending the majority of his evenings facilitating main ‘teri ritual healings on both sides of the Thai-Malaysian border. Hassan was also a wayang kulit dalang who performed in Thai and Malay and specialized in a form of wayang kulit Siam that incorporated popular music and clown characters from the Southern Thai Nang Talung shadow puppetry tradition. Hassan also had a joget troupe that attracted large crowds in secluded kampungs. In 2005, Wan Midin participated in main ‘teri as a musician and mak yong performer. In the 1970s Wan Midin was a member of the Seri Temenggung mak yong troupe. He had also trained as a wayang kulit Siam dalang in Tumpat under dalang Awang Lah and had toured Europe in the mid-1970s as the dalang muda for dalang Hamzah bin Awang Amat. At the end of their performance of Ayam Didik, Wan Midin quickly references a dikir barat tune for humorous effect before the Pak Yong hits him with a rotan to chastise him for his insolence and end the comic scene. Sampling the Popular, Localizing the Transnational When Kelantanese performers sample popular tunes in mak yong and wayang kulit, they often transpose them, indigenizing the transnational as they play popular music on local instrumentation. Patricia Matusky and Tan Sooi Beng (2017) describe the lagu hiburan of the gendang silat tradition as composed of folk tunes, Malay popular standards, Bollywood songs, Arabic tunes, and interpretations of regional and global popular songs (p. 232). Given that many Kelantanese gendang silat performers are also mak yong, main ‘teri, wayang kulit, and dikir barat performers, renditions of these lagu hiburan are also selectively incorporated into makyong-main ‘teri dance sessions, slotted into informal clowning scenes in mak yong performances, or utilized during humorous melodic interludes in wayang kulit. In providing a structural space for the incorporation of 138 MALAY CHRONICLES, THAI DRAMA, JAVANESE TALES: MAK YONG, INTERTEXTUALITY, AND PASISIR CULTURAL FLOW popular music indigenized through performance on local instruments, rural Kelantan performers simultaneously sample the popular while re-affirming traditional performance structure. Intertextual sampling in Kelantanese dramatic forms is not just linked to borrowings between mak yong, ‘Nura, wayang kulit, main ‘teri, or the incorporation of Malaysian folksongs and dances for humorous effect. Some Kelantanese wayang kulit Siam dalang chose to sample Bollywood songs in their performances. These songs are not simply reproduced, they are incorporated along a spectrum of transformation and recreation. One example, attributed to the late dalang Baju Dollah Merah, is sung by a clown who begins with “Jai Ho, Jai He Kol, Me Kah Jah Me Hai”, an auditory cue to the audience that the song is derived from a Bollywood tune. After this opening salvo, the clown shifts into Kelantanese to sing about eating, drinking, traveling, and enjoying nights of watching wayang kulit. “Jai He Kol Me Kah Jah Me Hai” is repeated as a chorus, but the song has been so localized that it is difficult to attribute to a particular origin (Seni Budaya, 2015, April 17). A second example is a performance credited to dalang Saupi. The clowns Said, Samad, and Wok Yoh travel to India where they meet the beloved Bollywood superstar Shah Rukh Khan. Claiming to suffer from a “dancing illness” one of the clowns asks Shah Rukh Khan to sing a Hindustani song. Shah Rukh Khan in puppet form complies with a rendition of “Phi Bi Dil Hai Hindustani” (Kancil Buruk, 2012, October 13). The incorporation of Malaysian folk tunes and Bollywood pop into the clowning scenes of Kelantanese mak yong and wayang kulit is purposeful. As Jan Mrázek notes when speaking of Javanese wayang kulit “clown scenes are characterized by a particular kind of opening to the present. They are in many ways a rupture in the performance structure, an opening within the structure” (Mrázek, 1999, p. 44). Rene Lysloff refers to clown scenes as “a rupture in the flow of time” (Lysloff quoted in Mrázek, 1999, p. 44). Clown scenes have little to do with the continuation of the plot of a tale and provide innovative performance space that allows elements of the present to penetrate formal performance structure (Mrázek, 1999). Intertextuality and Riau Mak Yong In the Riau Archipelago of Indonesia, the process and performance of intertextuality in mak yong takes slightly different form. In June 2018, I began research with traditional mak yong performers in Kg. Kijang Keke, Bintan, Pulau Mantang Arang, and Batam. Interviews with mak yong performers in Bintan reveal that they, like Kelantanese mak yong performers, are also engaged in multiple performance styles that include bangsawan, silat, joget dangkung, and joget tandak, but that unlike Kelantanese performers they are isolated from a highly-networked arts complex that includes forms of ritual and non-ritual drama. Interviews with mak yong performers in Kg. Kijang Keke and Mantang Arang Lama trace the history of mak yong in Riau to Patani performers who passed through Kelantan, and possibly Singapore, before they settled on Mantang Arang off the coast of Bintan. While the date of departure from southern Thailand and Kelantan is vague, there is a general consensus amongst mak yong performers that Mantang Arang mak yong performers were brought to Pulau Penyengat to perform for the court of the Riau-Lingga Sultanate in the late 19th century. There is a collection of five mak yong scripts written in Jawi by Riau mak yong performers, some of which are said to date back to the1890s. The late 19th and early 20th centuries was a period of cultural florescence in the Riau-Lingga court. In 1895, Riau Malay intelligentsia established the Roesidijah Klub Riau, an association that began as a literary circle, but that was soon viewed with suspicion by the Dutch as Malay nationalist sentiment grew. Royal sponsorship of Riau mak yong ended abruptly in 1911 when the Dutch forcibly dissolved the Riau-Lingga Sultanate and a mass exodus of citizens and royals fled from RiauLingga to Singapore and Johore. After the dissolution of the Riau-Lingga Sultanate, Riau mak yong performers returned to Mantang Arang. Mak yong performer Tengku Muhamad Satar bin Tengku Muhamad Atan Rahman describes mid20th century mak yong performances tours in the Riau Archipelago via boat. These performative perantaus fused traditional drama with popular music, mak yong with joget dangkung. As Satar explains: From 1979, I followed mak yong. We performed in Mantang island, Asu island, Kara island, Sembu island, and Benan island all the way to the island of Bangka-Belitung. So mak yong was like this. Mak yong was one group with two appearances. After Isyak, mak yong would appear. After we presented mak yong and everything was settled we would then add on joget. Joget of the 1960s-lah. Free-style joget. So from there we were one mak yong group. After we finished playing mak yong, we would joget. I would play drum, my father would play guitar, my uncle would play tabras. An 139 PATRICIA ANN HARDWICK in-married uncle of mine would play accordion. So everyday mak yong would circle, circulate in the Riau Archipelago. (personal communication, June 2018) Instrumentation of Bintan mak yong differs from that of contemporary Kelantan. Performers that played the rebab and serunai have passed away and have not been replaced. Lack of serunai and rebab aside, the names and types of Bintan mak yong instrumentation is nearly identical to the 1900 description of mak yong instrumentation found in William Walter Skeat’s (1972) Malay Magic and includes a jantan and betina gong, a jantan and betina mong-mong, a bring-bring, geduk-geduk, a gedombak pengibu and gedombak penganak, gendang pengibu and gendang penganak (p. 518). Riau mak yong performers also continue to use masks during their performances, with the use of up to sixteen different masks reported. These masks bear a striking resemblance to the mak yong masks in Malay Magic (1972, Plate 21). Figure 2. Tengku Muhamad Satar bin Tengku Muhamad Atan Rahman (playing the gendang pengibu) performs with members of Sanggar Mak Yong Warisan, Kg. Kijang Keke, Bintan, KEPRI, Indonesia. (Photo: Patricia A. Hardwick, 2018) When I played my field recordings of Kelantanese mak yong for Satar he recognized the Kelantanese ‘teri drumming style often employed to induce lupa, or trance, as similar to rhythms he played on the gendang. These rhythms were said by his elders to call spirits to mak yong performance. As Satar explains: In the past when mak yong performers were about to arrive a village, they would play the gendang first, before the gendang they would use the gong. That is the drumming, the calling of the spirits… in the boat, we would be about to arrive at a village and we would play the gendang first. This was also true at night, presented when I would buka tanah. I would jampi-jampi, then I would play the drums, not go straight into Betabek (personal communication, June 2018). Like Kelantanese mak yong performers, Satar engages the diversity of his performative experiences, in his case, not to sample the popular, but rather to repurpose the traditional. Satar recently worked with the Samudra Ensemble, a group of young musicians, to create a pop single under the label of “Progressive Mak Yong” in an attempt to capture the imagination of young Indonesians who have never seen a performance of Riau mak yong. “Progressive Mak Yong” fuses the melody and words of lagu Betabek and lagu Klantan from Riau mak yong, backing them with Western instrumentation to create a popular hit that has appealed to young audiences in Indonesia and Malaysia (Samudra Art Production, 2017, February 2). I have just begun to investigate the intertextual referencing, reproduction, and exchange within and between the Kelantanese and Riau mak yong traditions. In Kelantan, the performative knowledge of multiple local arts traditions, the history of exchanges between Malay, Thai, and Chinese Kelantanese performers, and the exposure to popular cultural influences provides a wealth of resources from which rural Kelantanese performers draw to create complex intertextual performances that reference both local performance forms and international sources. Both Riau and Kelantanese performers engage the diversity of their performative histories to sample popular culture, recreating traditional forms as they attempt to capture the attention of new audiences. As I continue with my research I plan to examine historical cross-cultural exchanges that existed between Kelantanese and Javanese performance. Kelantanese mak yong includes oral-formulaic statements 140 MALAY CHRONICLES, THAI DRAMA, JAVANESE TALES: MAK YONG, INTERTEXTUALITY, AND PASISIR CULTURAL FLOW declaring mak yong tales, cerita Jawa, and tanah Jawi, Javanese stories in a Malay land. Mantera opening Kelantanese wayang kulit announce that they “membawa hikayat Melayu, wayang Siam, cerita Jawa,” or perform Malay chronicles, Siamese theater, and Javanese tales (Foley, 2015). There have been historical linkages between Kelantanese dalang and the royal courts of Java, perhaps dating back as far as the 1700s (Matusky, 2011). These historical references combined with ethnographic documentation of the importance of the Javanese god-clown Semar in Kelantanese mak yong and wayang kulit, and the similarity of story type and drumming styles between Riau mak yong and Kelantanese main ‘teri gesture to a long period of cultural exchange between Kelantan, Java, Patani, and Riau. References Foley, K. (2015). Wayang Kelantan beyond borders. In Puppetry Studies in Society and History, 38, 28-31. Hafstein, V. (2004). The politics of origins: Collective creation revisited. The Journal of American Folklore, 117(465), 300-315. Kancil Buruk. (2012, October 13). Wayang Kulit Bollywood – Bollywood (Dalang Saupi). Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6616HnRd_s Kapchan, D. A. & Strong, P. T. (1999). Theorizing the hybrid. The Journal of American Folklore, 112(445), 239-253. Matusky, P. & Tan S. B. (2017). The music of Malaysia: The classical, folk, and syncretic traditions. SOAS Musicology Series. Second edition. London: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group. Matusky, P. (2011). Wayang Jawa (Wayang Melayu) ancient Malaysian shadow play (wayang kulit): Aristocratic hegemony in a hybridized form. In Mohd Anis Md Nor & P. Matusky (Eds.), Hybridity in the performing arts of Southeast Asia: Proceedings of the 1st symposium of the ICTM study group on performing arts of Southeast Asia (pp. 65-73). Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: NusPARC, Department of Southeast Asian Studies, University of Malaya. Mrázek, J. (1999). Javanese wayang kulit in the times of comedy: Clown scenes, innovation and the performance’s being in the present world. Part one. Indonesia, 68, 38-128. Samudra Art Production. (2017, February 2). Samudra Ensemble – Progressive Makyong [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KoGIs-MKisU Seni Budaya. (2015, April 17). Wayang Kulit Kelantan - Lagu Chahikun [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7mXwsLlP_U Skeat, W. W. (1972 [1900]). Malay magic being an introduction to the folklore and popular religion of the Malay Peninsula. New York, NY: Benjamin Blom, INC. Wright, B. S. (1980). Dance is the cure: The arts as metaphor for healing in Kelantanese Malay spirit exorcisms. Dance Research Journal, 12(2), 3-10. Yong, C. M. (2017). Wayang at the temple: Contesting religion, religiosity, and identity in wayang kulit Kelantan. In P. Matusky & W. Quintero (Eds.), Proceedings of the 4th symposium the ICTM study group on performing arts of Southeast Asia (pp.134-137). Penang: School of the Arts, Universiti Sains Malaysia. 141 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA COMMEMORATING THE “SINGAPORE-MEDAN” CONNECTION: CONTRADICTIONS IN APPROPRIATING “INDONESIAN” REPERTORIES INTO THE SINGAPORE MALAY DANCE CANON1 Muhammad Noramin bin Mohamed Farid University of London, United Kingdom I start this paper by describing a blurry photo from the archives, more specifically a chendaramata, a souvenir book given to attendees of a performance consisting of event details, pictures and written articles. A black and white photo caught my attention and it featured a group of people who, upon closer observation of its surroundings, were posing for a group photo in front of a Malayan Airways airplane. The caption provided important information: the people in the photo are members of an arts group called Sriwana and that they represented the Lembaga Tetap Kongres (LTK),2 as part of Singapore’s cultural mission to the countries of the Melayu Raya. This photo was in a chendaramata published in 1962 commemorating Sriwana’s 7th year of establishment since its inception in 1955. The year 1962 in the context of Southeast Asian history was part of a very volatile period: one-year shy of the signing of the Malaysia act of 1963 and the Manila Accord, later the unprecedented aftermath resulting in the Konfrontasi3 and eventually the separation of Singapore from Malaysia in 1965, the period in which Indonesian studies scholar Jennifer Lindsay (2012) affirms, when “things began to get nasty” (p. 4). I wish to gesture to the Melayu Raya4 mentioned in the caption, which was a politically charged panMalay cultural movement of the late fifties to the mid-sixties, based on two grounds: (1) as an imagined and political concept in currency at a particular, albeit limited, period of time bringing together communities of Malay cultural affinities and identities; and (2) as a robust period of cultural, social, and artistic experience and exchange. For this paper, I deal most with the second intention as the gesturing to Melayu Raya and that through this perspective affords me a reference point in history wherein the “translocal”, as purported by anthropologist Joel Kahn (2006), allowed for Singapore institutions to invite Indonesian artists to come and teach Malay dance. This is important because the “coming” of these Indonesian artists continues to be part of the oral and documented single narrative of Malay dance history in Singapore and the repertoires they taught are preserved and practiced today by leading Malay dance groups. In addition, to facilitate this discussion I use anthropologist Michael Herzfeld’s (2016) “cultural intimacy” to understand the phenomena in this study. Cultural intimacy affords, “the recognition of those aspects of an officially shared identity that are considered a source of external embarrassment but that nevertheless provide insiders with their assurance of common sociality” (p. 7). I argue that the “external embarrassment” of not possessing a unique Singaporean Malay dance identity, which propels the ongoing dependence of establishing and re-affirming the Singapore-Medan connection, equally provides the practitioners within the scene a sense of communality but also at the same time fortifies pan-Malay identification that transcends and subverts the nation-state identit(ies). Objectives of Paper The objectives of the paper are two-fold. Firstly, to date there has yet to be dedicated research on the historical trajectories of Malay dance in Singapore and its contemporary development today. Thus, through this paper I provide a perspective of Malay dance history in Singapore through the usual narratives that are verbally reiterated through persatuan-persatuan, or arts organizations and traces found in newspapers and in the form of chendaramata, or souvenir books, that are given to attendees of events organized by these organisations. Secondly, acknowledging my perilous position as a researcher and insider to this exclusive (practised largely by practitioners who identify themselves as Malay) and hierarchical (the important roles of Gurus / Veterans) art world,5 I am interested to juxtapose history and contemporary development of the form in Singapore today and attempt to bring to the fore, the contestations and contradictions of the practice and a critical understanding of its history today. The Malay dance art world in Singapore continues to be dependent on its Singapore-Medan relations despite its inherent and relentless desire to forge a Singaporean identity as fostered and bolstered by the multiracial policies of the nation-state. This is purported by the nostalgia of veterans and elite groups of Malay dance in Singapore who continue to commemorate this connection through celebratory events and 142 COMMEMORATING THE “SINGAPORE-MEDAN” CONNECTION: CONTRADICTIONS IN APPROPRIATING “INDONESIAN” REPERTORIES INTO THE SINGAPORE MALAY DANCE CANON most recently with the endorsement by Singapore’s premier arts establishment, the Esplanade—Theatres on the Bay. Equally, I argue as anthropologist and sociologist J. D. Y. Peel (1984) does, that “conceptions of the past are facts of the present” and that “the content of such conceptions of the past… may well be largely or entirely the product of particular present interests” (p. 112). Veteran choreographers find opportunities to reinforce personal histories, fortifying and re-establishing historical links to remain relevant and be gatekeepers to what they now regard as “tradition”. I believe I must also clarify here that I am not talking about Indonesia in monolithic terms, but in acknowledgement of the Indonesian dance teachers who came to Singapore to teach specifically Malay dance, i.e. Sumatran dances ranging from Minangkabau dances to popular Malay dances of North Sumatra and Riau (Hinterland and Island) communities. The Malay Dance scene in Singapore can best be described as what theatre scholar Howard Becker would deem as, an “Art World”. Art worlds can be understood in terms of a “local community, in which people who live close to each other routinely collaborate to produce more or less similar works, a form of community especially likely in such performing arts as theatre (Becker et al, p. 93). For the case of the Malay dance art world in Singapore, although practitioners do not live close to each other, there is a shared “tradition and culture,” a system of how things are done, and a common artistic language used (p. 94). Persatuan-persatuan, or organisations in Singapore, are examples of how the Malay dance art world functions. The 1950s saw the formation of such persatuan-persatuan by eager artists who were influenced by the Malay nationalist movement. Arts organisations such as Sriwana formed in 1955 and Perkumpulan Seni in 1956, two of the oldest arts organisations in Singapore, were founded by prominent Malay personalities of that period such as Zubir Said (music and film), Nongchik Ghani (theatre and dance), Usman Awang and Abdul Ghani Hamid (literature). These two organisations continue to be active contributors today in the artistic disciplines of dance and theatre. Since attaining independence in 1965 upon separation from Malaysia, these persatuan-persatuan, especially those focused on promoting Malay cultural activities and social causes, had to deal with a sudden void: the previous agenda of promoting a Malay nationalism had to be replaced with future efforts to promote multicultural national agenda that acknowledges the equal and unique existence of various ethnic entities (Barnard & Putten, 2008). Sriwana and Perkumpulan Seni For this paper I will focus on the activities of these two organizations and how in their own capacities, each have maintained the Singapore-Medan connection in their practice and histories. It must first be acknowledged that these two groups were multi-arts groups consisting of different arts disciplines such as literature, dance, silat (martial arts), choir, etc. But it is the theatre and dance sections of the groups that continue to remain active and pertinent to the arts scene today. The two organisations worked closely in their formative years and the period saw many theatrical collaborations such as, “Keris Sempena Riau” (1959), “Lela Satria” (1960) and “Ribut” (1962). As the theatrical collaborations were quite reminiscent to that of Bangsawan shows in the earlier periods (Tan, 1993), the inclusion of creative dance repertoires was commonplace. In fact, most of the performers were multi-talented and would also take on many other artistic and technical roles in the production. Hence, the development of dance in these groups was very much in tandem with the active promotion of theatre as well. However, as more opportunities became available for dance as part of the nation-building and community agendas, e.g. People’s Association Dance Talents formed in 1965 and the National Dance Company in 1970, dancers from these groups would work alongside each other within these organisations, exchanging ideas and adapting repertoires. Sriwana’s illustrious development in both the arts and media in Singapore, is integral to the creation of platforms for the professionalization of Malay dance and the establishment of future arts groups. These progenies formed by former members of Sriwana, who continue to have good relations with their former group, in their own capacities played a role in the continuity of Sriwana’s importance and legacy via the endorsement of specific Sriwana-based repertories. I focus now on the historical involvement of an Indonesian-Chinese lady, Surianty Liu Chun Wai, in the late fifties and how the recent activities by Sriwana and its progenies commemorate Liu’s ongoing prominence and her dance creations which are regarded as “classic” repertoires of Singapore’s Malay dance canon. According to my recent interview with Liu (2018) arranged by the Esplanade—Theatres on the Bay, she shared that her first arrival to Singapore was with the Indonesian Cultural Mission to the country in 1959. 143 MUHAMMAD NORAMIN BIN MOHAMED FARID Later, the team was invited by then Ministry of Culture, to teach a Malay dance workshop for practitioners. As the only Indonesian of Chinese descent who was able to communicate in Mandarin, she played an important role in the workshop translating for her guru, Saugi Bustami, who conducted the workshop for students of the former Nanyang University, Singapore’s Chinese-medium university. Subsequently, her meeting with the founder of Sriwana, Nongchik Ghani was to become the beginning of Liu’s involvement with Sriwana and the production of more than twenty choreographies during her two-year stint with the group. She came bearing knowledge of dances that were deemed as “Malay” and these repertoires, namely Tanjong Katong, Serampang Dua Belas and Baju Kurung, are still practised today by dance troupes in Singapore. Sulaiman Jeem, Sriwana member and journalist, highlighted in Berita Harian (a Malay daily) that in the early sixties, Malay youth were very keen for Western forms of dance. In his article he opines that Liu’s efforts to teach Chinese youth Malay dance, made them resemble Malay youth. Sulaiman then (1961) ended his article with a paragraph to advise the “Malay Race” of an impending setback: So if we ourselves do not seize the opportunity, then without realising it we, the Malay race, will be far behind than the Chinese youths in the field of Malay dance, which is our right and ours to possess. A confession that is maligning and embarrassing. (p. 4) Sulaiman Jeem (1982) would remind 20 years later in the Straits Times about Liu’s influence. He wrote: Her contribution to the art of Malay dancing in Singapore had a very big impact especially in respect of form, system and method. She taught Malay dancing here for just a few months but the dances that she introduced have remained with the Malay cultural scene for a very long time. (p. 24) I highlight some of the recent commemorative events that have been organized emphasizing Sriwana and its progenies’ nostalgic affiliation to the Singapore-Medan connection. Some former members of Sriwana who left the organization, had formed their own collectives and continue to practise certain Sriwanna repertoires, namely Sri Warisan Som Said Performing Arts Ltd. established in 1997 and Era Dance Theatre Ltd. founded in 1992, incorporated in 2009, just to name a few. Sriwana’s recent commissioned production by the Esplanade as part of a “Pesta Raya” event entitled “Legendary Lengang: Tracing Origins”, and held at the outdoor theatre, presented some of Sriwana’s “classic” dances and were performed by current dancers of Sriwana and its progenies. One of these repertoire pieces was the “Baju Kurung” a choreography of Liu, circa 1961-62. Liu was later invited on stage after the presentation of the dance to share her well-wishes for the group. Liu was invited the next day to teach a dance masterclass which was promoted as “Classical Malay Dance”. I was present at the workshop and from my observation, there were equal numbers of Malay dance practitioners and amateurs. She taught excerpts of a Minangkabau Joget dance and later a Zapin dance. The art world proceeding Liu was immersed by the presence of a steady stream of Indonesian choreographers trained in Malay and Minangkabau dances such as Deddy Luthan, Tom Ibnur and Noerdin Daud who were invited by Sriwana and the NDC to teach Sumatran dances. Perkumpulan Seni likewise is no stranger to this trend of inviting Indonesian choreographers. In 2012, Perkumpulan Seni documented its own unique historical trajectory with Medan to position itself within the discourse. In a book entitled, Tari Melayu Serampang 12: Sejarah & Perkembangan di dalam Perkumpulan Seni (Malay Dance Serampang 12: History & Development in Perkumpulan Seni), the authors traced the origins of a popular North Sumatran dance, “Serampang Dua Belas”6 and the context which led to the inception of a Perkumpulan Seni version of this dance that was introduced by a prominent dance personality from Medan, Tengku Sitta Syaritsa, in the 1980s. The book launch in July 2012 was attended by dance activists from many dance groups. During the event there was acknowledgement of the several variations of Serampang Dua Belas in Singapore which was affirmed by the master of ceremony, Ramlan Rasidi, who is also a dance veteran in the art world, who said, “although the basic movements are the same, but the style of presentation differs for each dance group”7(Putra, 2012, p. 10). Contradictions and Contestations From the events, we see how certain elite personalities and organizations have taken great lengths to re144 COMMEMORATING THE “SINGAPORE-MEDAN” CONNECTION: CONTRADICTIONS IN APPROPRIATING “INDONESIAN” REPERTORIES INTO THE SINGAPORE MALAY DANCE CANON establish historical links with certain figures while purporting nostalgic narratives amidst the art world’s desire to find its own identity. Som Said asserts in an interview (EsplanadeSG, 2012) that: Talk about Malay dance, I know that the history is always based on Indonesian Medan instructors that brought Malay dance here. Inside me, it is always like “This is not ours… this is not ours.” What would make Malay dance in Singapore different from what we received? A newspaper article written in the late 1980s documented this long-lasting inherent desire. The article entitled, “Dancing to the Rhythm of Borrowed Steps,” was the journalist’s creative response to what was discussed by elite practitioners at a forum in 1988, the revelation that Singapore has long perpetuated Indonesian repertoires with none to call their own. Today, communal discussions to institutionalize Singaporean Malay Dance identity have produced further questions as practitioners struggle to agree on which dances are representative, as it concerns whose group identity is placed on the pedestal. Questions such as, “should we prioritise Sriwana’s repertoires, if so, does it truly represent groups from other non-Sriwana genealogies?” or “must we discard and disown the Indonesian dances still practiced today?”. As one veteran8 shared with me in Malay: Why must we constantly refer to (mengkiblatkan) Medan, when we have existed for 50 years, dance associations have dance repertoires of their own. Shouldn’t it be time for us to elevate the dances of Sriwana and Perkumpulan Seni to become the symbols of Malay dance in Singapore?9 The veteran used the word “mengkiblatkan” which is usually used to entail the religious direction of Islamic prayer. He used it to stress the direction some personalities in the art world are looking at, in particular the preoccupation with Medan when the existence of associations has allowed for new choreographies in the spirit of a “Singaporean” identity. Conclusion I see two ways in which the employment of Herzfeld’s “cultural intimacy” could best sum up my analysis of these Singapore-Medan commemorative events by leading organizations and personalities of Malay dance. Firstly, despite having to continuously depend on Indonesian counterparts for knowledge about Malay dance due to local Malay dance practitioners’ “external embarrassment” that they do not have any repertoires that can be regarded authentically Malay or can be classify as uniquely Singaporean-Malay, these insiders see themselves and find comfort as being part of this local art world—a sense of community that binds them together. Secondly, this same “external embarrassment of not possessing a unique Singaporean-Malay style of performance which differs from its cultural affiliated neighbours, namely Indonesia and Malaysia, actually affords “the assurance of common sociality”—being part of a larger polity, a continued recognition of a premodern nation-state identity of the Alam Melayu or the Malay world. Using the archival material of a particular period has given me access and context to think deeper and critically about Malay dance history. The study teases out the contestations and contradictions inherent in the discourse of ethnicity and identity politics, highlighting cultural intimacies of the art world. The two explanations I provide here may seem contradictory, but as an insider I affirm the dual lived experiences, as it also speaks volumes of an issue that I have just only scratched the surface: the experience of a Malay dance practitioner in Singapore as a minority ethnic citizen in a multicultural nation, sandwiched between two nations of cultural affinities. The intersections between the discourses of ethnic identity and nationality in the Malay dance art world of Singapore provides compelling insights for the anthropology of dance in the nation-state and also the maritime region. Endnotes 1 This is a revised title. The original title, “Revisting the ‘Melayu Raya’: Contradictions in Appropriating ‘Indonesian’ Repertories into the Singapore Malay Dance Canon” was an ambitious feat on my part and I have revised it to reflect a more focused study. 2 “Anggota2 Sriwana telah terpileh sa-bagai mewakili LTK, menyertai rombongan Kebudayaan Singapura ka-negara2 Melayu Raya” (Sriwana, 1962, p. 17). 145 MUHAMMAD NORAMIN BIN MOHAMED FARID 3 The political and armed conflict known as the Indonesia-Malaysia Confrontation or Konfrontasi began in 1963. It was Indonesia’s response to the formation of the Federation of Malaysia. It lasted for about 4 years, ceasing officially in 1966 (Omar, 2008). 4 A political anti-colonial movement with its beginnings in the 1920s with the desire to unite and form an independent nation made up of a united Malaya and Indonesia. It is often referred to as “Indonesia Raya” (Plomp, 2012, p. 389) 5 At the time of writing this article, I am currently pursuing ethnographic research in Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia as my part of my PhD candidacy. 6 This dance repertoire which originated from the Deli-Serdang area, now part of the province of North Sumatra, was choreographed by Guru Sauti in the 1930s and its proliferation in the Malay World came about when it was given the status of one of the “national dances” of Indonesia. The popular dance repertoires of Guru Sauti was taught by Indonesian dance teachers to Malay communities of cultural affinities. I wrote about the contemporary practice of Serampang Dua Belas in Medan and Pekanbaru as part of my Master’s thesis (Mohd Farid, 2016). 7 “Mungkin gerak dasar tari ini masih sama, tapi gaya penyampaian agak berbeza bagi setiap kumpulan tari.” 8 I have chosen to withhold the identity of this veteran as this perspective was shared as part of a personal communication. 9 “Kenapa harus kita mengkiblatkan Medan, sedangkan kita sudah lima puluh tahun wujud, persatuanpersatuan ada repertoar tari tersendiri. Bukankah masa untuk kita mengangkat karya-karya tari Sriwana dan Perkumpulan Seni sebagai simbol tarian Melayu di Singapura.” References Abu Bakar, M. (1988, September 19). Dancing to the rhythm of borrowed steps. The Straits Times, p. 5. Barnard, T. & Putten, J. V. (2008). Malay cosmopolitan activism in post-war Singapore. In M. D. Barr & C. A. Trocki (Eds.), Paths not taken: Political pluralism in post-war Singapore (pp. 132-153). Singapore: NUS Press. EsplanadeSG. (2012) Tribute.sg - Som Said [YouTube]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=fKshrfbhbWY (Accessed: 05/09/2018). Jeem, S. (1961, February 28). Sumbangan gadis Tionghoa dalam tari Melayu asli: Chara mereka menari sunggoh2 saperti pemuda pemudi melayu. Berita Harian, p. 4 Jeem, S. (1982, February 22). Great contribution of Malay dances by an instructress. Straits Times, p. 24. Herzfeld, M. (2016). Cultural intimacy: Social poetics and the real life of states, societies, and institutions. London: Routledge. Kahn, J. (2006). Other Malays: Nationalism and cosmopolitanism in the modern Malay world. Singapore: Singapore University Press. Lindsay, J. (2012). Performing Indonesia abroad. In J. Lindsay & M. H. T. Liem (Eds.), Heirs to world culture: Being Indonesia 1950-1956 (pp. 191-220). Leiden: KITLV Press. Mohd Farid, Muhd Noramin. (2016). Serampang dua belas: Discourses of identity in the contemporary practice of a Malay courtship dance in Sumatra (Unpublished master’s thesis). Roehampton University, London, United Kingdom. Omar, M. (2008). Indonesia-Malaysia Confrontation. Retrieved from http://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/history/ events/126b6b07-f796-4b4c-b658-938001e3213e. Peel, J. D. Y. (1984). Making history: The past in the Ijesha present. Man, 19(1), 111-132. Plomp, M. (2012). The capital of pulp fiction and other capitals cultural life in Medan, 1950-1958. In J. Lindsay & M. H. T. Liem (Eds.), Heirs to world culture: Being Indonesia 1950-1956 (pp. 191-220). Leiden: KITLV Press. Putra, A. (2012, March 28). Perkumpulan seni rakam sejarah serampang 12. Berita Harian, p. 10. Said, S. & Ahmad, H. (2012). Tari Melayu serampang 12: Sejarah & perkembangan di dalam perkumpulan seni. Singapore: PS Singapura. Sriwana. (1962). Chenderamata Sriwana 1955-1962. Singapore: Sriwana. Tan, S. B. (1993). Bangsawan: A social and stylistic history of popular Malay opera. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 146 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA FROM FOLK MUSICIANS TO POPULAR ICONS: REFASHIONING A STRUGGLING TAMIL FOLK MUSIC TRADITION IN SINGAPORE Gene Lai Wesleyan University, USA Singapore is situated at the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula. It is separated from Malaysia by the Straits of Johor to its north and from Indonesia's Riau Islands by the Singapore Strait to its south. The Singapore ethnicity composition as of September 2015 is approximately 75% Chinese, 13% Malays, 9% Indians, 3% others. In 2015, during the thaipusam celebrations—which is a major Hindu festival in Singapore—a scuffle between members of a Tamil folk drumming groups known as urumi mēlam and police officers broke out along the procession route. As a result, a police SWAT team was deployed to the scene and three men were arrested and sentenced to jail and fines. In January 2016, the Hindu Endowments Board released a new set of regulations for thaipusam 2016 in the national newspaper under the title, Live Music at Thaipusam after 42 Years. Temple musicians and urumi mēlam musicians were invited to perform at allocated spots in the Sri Srinivasa Perumal Temple and at three live music points along the procession route. However, they were not allowed to walk or play their drums along the route. The live music points were identified by the police and each was located at least one hundred meters away from residential areas. While two live music points were assigned to temple musicians playing the nagaswaram and tavil, only one live music point was assigned to urumi mēlam groups. Fast forward to 2018: during the thaipusam festival, urumi mēlam groups were allowed to perform in the Sri Srinivasa Perumal Temple and two live music points while temple musicians were assigned one live music point. Furthermore, they have also received invitations from government statuary boards and community centers to perform at numerous community events such as this one. What made a struggling Tamil musical tradition in Singapore such as urumi mēlam to alleviate their stigma and gain acceptance in the public eye two years after the 2015 thaipusam scuffle? In this paper, I discuss the concept of resilience within the context of urumi mēlam musical tradition in Singapore. I will do this by firstly providing brief descriptions about resilience and urumi mēlam. I will then describe how the transnational network of urumi mēlam musicians and Tamil folk musicians in Malaysia and Tamil Nadu have inspired Singaporean urumi mēlam musicians to adopt strategies that have helped to alleviate their stigmatized musical tradition. By examining these strategies and their outcomes, I propose that urumi mēlam musicians in Singapore have been able to move beyond being defined as members of an ethnic minority folk troupe. Instead, they have been able to refashion their image to resemble that of a popular icon in popular culture. The Concept of Resilience Resilience is a term originated from the field of ecology. It implies a way to manage disturbances and changes, and guides the outcome toward a desirable end in an ecosystem. One of the earliest mentions of the concept of resilience in the field of ethnomusicology was in an article by Daniel Neuman titled ‘Ecology of Indian Music in North America’ (1984). Neuman writes that “resiliency is a consequence of Hindustani or North Indian Classical Music’s adaptive possibilities in different cultural environments” (1984, p. 2). In a recent publication, Jeff Titon reintroduced the concept of resilience and defines it as “a system’s capacity to recover its integrity, identity, and continuity when subjected to forces of disturbance” (2015, p. 158). Singaporean musical traditions have demonstrated resilience in the midst of disturbances in the form of regulations imposed by the authorities. These have been addressed by scholars who conducted studies on traditions such as Tamil music (Sykes, 2015a, 2015b), kuda kepang [hobby horse trance dance] (Hardwick, 2014), Extreme metal music (Dairianathan, 2013), and Islamic call for prayer (Lee, 1999). Unanimously, they note that practitioners of local traditions demonstrated resiliency through adaptive strategies such as changing narratives to one approved by authorities, syncretizing their musics with nuances of western popular music, and seeking alternative platforms to reach their audiences. 147 GENE LAI The Urumi Mēlam in Singapore and Malaysia The urumi mēlam is a folk ensemble that originated in Tamil Nadu, South India. Urumi refers to the type of drum, and mēlam refers to ensemble or band. In Tamil Nadu, urumi melam consist of urumi,1 nagaswaram,2 tàvil,3 pambai,4 and tālam.5 In Southeast Asia, notably Malaysia and Singapore, urumi mēlam groups usually comprise a vocalist, urumi, távil, chinna kattai,6 and chin chak.7 It emerged in the Malaysian city of Ipoh in the late 1980s. Subsequently it began to spread and became popularized in Singapore in the early 2000s (Sykes, 2015b, p. 383). The performers are Tamil Hindu males between the ages of 16 to 31 who drum energetically and sing songs of praises to deities. All of them pursue urumi mēlam as a part-time engagement (see Figure 1). Urumi mēlam groups are hired on an on-demand basis. Typically, they provide music for events such as Hindu ceremonies and rituals, weddings, and welcoming ceremonies for guests of honour. Apart from providing music for events, urumi mēlam groups have also been successful in keeping vulnerable teens away from narcotics and street gangs (Sykes, 2015b, p. 390). Figure 1. Drummers of Siva Sakthi Muniandy Urumi Mēlam. (Photo: Christine May Yong, 2016) Urumi mēlam musicians have a strong sense of solidarity in Singapore. Most urumi mēlam musicians are acquaintances. Despite competing for gigs, it is common for a musician from one urumi mēlam group to perform with another group when there is a shortage of players. The musical tradition has also receives support from the Singaporean Tamil Hindu community, who hire them for sacred and secular events. The cohesiveness of the urumi mēlam performance community and the Singaporean Tamil Hindu community has made the musical tradition an important emblem of cultural identity. However, tensions and anxieties arise as Singaporean authorities constrain the ability of urumi mēlam groups to perform. Singaporean authorities, advised by members of the Hindu endowments board (of whom many are upper caste Indian permanent residents of Singapore), select and declare what is “Hindu”, and what is not. Music, an important element of Hindu practice, is not spared from this process. Although the Singaporean Tamil Hindu community is not bound by the Hindu caste system, there is an implicit caste hierarchy. The urumi mēlam groups are often stigmatized because upper caste Hindu advisors viewed it as a dalit (untouchable caste) ensemble affiliated with criminals and gangs. Therefore, they face challenges from regulations imposed on them by Singaporean authorities. Despite urumi mēlam musical tradition’s emblematic status within the larger Singaporean Tamil Hindu community, they are never endorsed as a Singaporean Indian performing arts and do not receive support from the government or any heritage management agencies. One of the examples that demonstrates the significant lack of support for urumi mēlam groups in Singapore is their struggle to find a proper rehearsal venue. They usually hold their rehearsals at public parks and carparks. Urumi Mēlam Musical Tradition’s Resilience Amid Disturbances According to Yoshitaka Terada, as the effects of globalization deepen, more musical traditions will face a similar situation in which multiple centres of musical production and consumption are connected through physical movements of people and electronic means (2014, p. 67). Therefore, Terada argues that it is much 148 FROM FOLK MUSICIANS TO POPULAR ICONS: REFASHIONING A STRUGGLING TAMIL FOLK MUSIC TRADITION IN SINGAPORE closer to reality to think of the flow as being circular between multiple centres of South Indian music and dance (2014, p. 66). Terada’s concept of circular flow very much corresponds to the intracultural influences among urumi mēlam musical tradition in Singapore, Malaysia, and Tamil Nadu. Urumi mēlam musicians have been demonstrating resiliency in an effort to maintain their musical tradition because they are unaided by the government and heritage management agencies. Despite these obstacles, they have been actively adapting new strategies to maintain their musical tradition on their own capacity. They learn new strategies from their counterparts in Malaysia and Tamil Nadu and they adopt, adapt, reject, and negotiate for suitable strategies that will engage audiences within and beyond the Singapore Tamil Hindu community. I will highlight two strategies that urumi mēlam musicians use to engage their diverse audiences: They are, 1) borrowing rhythms from popular music, Tamil film music, and other musical traditions and 2) synthesizing traditional Tamil folk Music with synthesized sounds. Borrowing Rhythms from Popular Music, Tamil Film Music, and Other Musical Traditions All musical arrangements for urumi mēlam are set to Tamil folk rhythms known as adis. However, to engage non-Indian audiences, urumi mēlam musicians have been borrowing rhythms and sounds from popular music, Tamil film music, and other musical traditions to create musical arrangements for their groups. The Lion Dance adi is borrowed from the rhythms accompanying the Chinese lion dance (see Figure 2). The kabali aḍi is borrowed from the 2016 Tamil blockbuster movie Kabali. The Micheal Jackson adi is borrowed from Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal from his 1987 album titled Bad. Urumi mēlam musicians apply these rhythms to pre-existing Tamil songs to create musical arrangements or to create their own compositions. Figure 2. Siva Sakthi Muniandy Urumi Mēlam accompanying a Chinese Lion Dance Performance. (Photo: Siva Sakthi Muniandy Urumi Mēlam, 2017) Synthesis of Traditional Tamil Folk Music and Synthesized Sounds In Tamil Nadu, prominent folk singer and urumi drummer Anthony Daasan and his Tamil folk fusion band known as “Anthony in Party” became a big sensation among Tamil folk music fans around the world. The sonorities of Tamil folk music fused with synthesized sounds have inspired urumi mēlam groups in Singapore and Malaysia to experiment with synthesized sound in their compositions. In October 2017, the Siva Sakthi Muniandy Urumi Mēlam released their very first devotional single titled karuppu on Facebook and YouTube (see Figure 2). The song is a devotional song in praise of the Tamil folk deity karuppu. It is a synthesis of traditional Tamil folk rhythms and synthesized sounds, which gives a fresh sonority that transcends the traditional urumi mēlam sounds. Conclusion Government regulations are part of the larger struggle for Singaporean urumi mēlam to sustain their musical tradition. Urumi mēlam musicians hope to gain recognition as a Singaporean Indian musical tradition that serves the Singaporean Tamil Hindu Community. However, the constant suppression from authorities has made it difficult for urumi mēlam musicians to sustain their musical tradition within the multicultural matrix of Singaporean society. This has forced urumi mēlam musicians to become resilient. They have been 149 GENE LAI developing strategies to attract audiences, gazers, and fellow Tamil Hindus. Inspired by their counterparts in Malaysia and Tamil Nadu, they borrow rhythms from popular culture into their musical performances and they also experiment with synthesized sounds in their compositions. With all these strategies in place, urumi mēlam groups in Singapore have been able to overcome the stigma of being associated by the Singaporean government with criminality and gangsterism, and have gained popularity. However, more work needs to be done in order for the urumi mēlam musical tradition to completely eradicate these harmful associations. For now, urumi mēlam musicians have been able to recraft their image from Tamil Hindu folk drumming tradition to a representation resembling a popular icon. Endnotes 1 Urumi is a double-headed hourglass-shaped drum that originated in the state of Tamil Nadu, South India. In Tamil Nadu, it is typically played by dalits, many of whom believe it has supernatural and sacred powers. When played in religious ceremonies and processions, the performance of specific beats and “moaning” sound produced on the urumi may induce spirit possessions or trance (Lai, 2016, p. 33). 2 The tavil is a single barrel-shaped drum with two heads, the treble sounding head normally at the right and a bass sounding head at the left (ibid). 3 The nāgasvaram is a Tamil folk wind instrument; it has been a necessary instrument that accompanies important religious rituals at the Hindu temple (ibid). 4 The pambai comprise of a pair of small cylindrical drums held horizontally one on top of the other in front of the musician's chest. The lower pitched drum is tied to the musician’s waist and the higher pitched drum is slung from the musician’s neck so that the drums comprises and lie above the other horizontally (ibid). 5 The tālam is a pair of brass bells that keeps tāḷa for most South Indian musical traditions. 6 The chinna kattai drum is the high-pitched drum of the pambai (ibid). 7 The chin chak is a localized name of tālam. Urumi mēlam musicians use it to keep tempo. References Dairianathan, E. (2013). Vedic metal and e-mediated space: Perspective from Singapore. Asian Journal of Communication, 23(4), 348-367. Hardwick, P. (2014). Horsing around Melayu: Kuda kepang, Islamic piety, and identity politics at play in Singapore’s Malay community. Journal of the Malaysian Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 87(1), 1-19. Lee, T. S. (1999). Technology and Islamic spaces: The call to prayer in Singapore. Ethnomusicology, 43(1), 86-100. Neuman, D. (1984). The life of music in North India: The organization of an artistic tradition. Detroit, MI: Wayne State University Press. Sykes, J. (2015a). Towards a Malayan Indian sonic geography: Sound and social relations in colonial Singapore. Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 46(3), 485-513. Sykes, J. (2015b). Sound studies, religion and urban space: Tamil music and the ethnical life in Singapore. Ethnomusicology Forum, 24(3), 380-413. Terada, Y. (2014). The circular flow of South Indian music and dance. In U. Hemetek, E. Marks, & A. Reyes, Music and minorities from around the world: Research, documentation and interdisciplinary study (pp. 47-71). Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. 150 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA FUNCTIONALISM AND THE SULING DEWA IN THE NGAPONIN SACRED PURIFICATION CEREMONY OF NORTHERN LOMBOK Nur Kholis Sumardi Indonesian Arts Institute, Indonesia Introduction Broadly speaking, the Sasak tribe has four sub cultures: Kuto—kute North Lombok, Meno—mene West Lombok, Ngeno—ngeni East Lombok and Meriyaq—meriku South Lombok. These four great sub-groups have other branches based on commune. Sub-cultures in the Sasak tribe have different languages, arts and customs. The people from North Lombok, especially those in Bayan village use Kuto—kute bayan language, or commonly referred to as Sasak polong language. The majority of the Sasak Kuto—kute community is located in North Lombok, and partly in the Sekotong and Karang Bayan mountains of West Lombok. The Sasak Kuto—kute language has several branches, one of which is the polong language and the unique language of the polong or Kuto—kute bayan is split in several hamlet languages. The interesting thing about Lombok is that it is such a small island but has a particular aesthetic based on the contrast of diversity in languages and culture. Here is a comparison table between the Sasak Kuto-kute community with four major sub-Sasak languages with the keyword “Nothing”. Table 1. The Language of Sub-Sasaknese Culture Kuto – kute bayan Meno – mene Ngeno – ngeni Meriyaq – meriku Kuto – kute Soraq e dan Enya Raq Endeq Araq Enda Raq Edaq Iye Enya Raq As for the tribal everyday language, the Sasak tribe itself is divided into four groups, but the sub-Sasak Kuto - kute Bayan tribe uses only two levels of Diq and Epe. As the table below shows, the level of Sasak language ranges from low to high. Table 2. Level of Language Language Level Meq Very Low Kamu or Diq (Kuto – kute) Side or Epe (Kuto – kute) Plungguh Low Middle High The Sasak Kuto-kute tribe, which lives in the village of Bayan North Lombok, has a unique belief known by the three terms of Waktu Telu, Metu Telu or Wetu Telu. Islam Metu Telu is actually a belief system that was born from the syncretism of the three elements of Islam, Hindu Majapahit and Nenekisme (ancient beliefs of the Sasak tribe) religion. This religion, if observed from the viewpoint of cultural phenomenon, has a very high beauty value, ranging from art to the practice of ceremony, one of which is the Suling Dewa and Ngaponin Ceremony. Suling Dewa is the most sacred of instruments in the Sasak Kuto-kute Bayan community. This instrument consists of only four pieces representing the four directions (east, south, west and north). Every ceremony or ritual performed by the Sasak Kuto-kute community usually uses only one Suling Dewa, a situation different than in Ngaponin ceremony, which uses four Suling Dewa at once in the implementation of its activities. 151 NUR KHOLIS SUMARDI Figure 1. Jero Gamel (left), Inan Gending (right) and Suling Dewa. (Photo: Nur Kholis Sumardi, Senaru 02 Februari 2014) The presence of four sacred Suling Dewa in the ceremony of Ngaponin relates to the status of Ngaponin ceremony as one of the sacred ceremonies in the Sasak Kuto-kute society. This four-year ceremony is a purification rite of ancestral heritage of the keris and other traditional weapons performed with maximum and full consideration. This can be seen from the presence of the four Suling Dewa at the same time. In addition to the presence of the four Suling Dewa, all customary officials also attend the ceremony of Ngaponin to perform their duties respectively for the sustainability of the ceremony. Ceremony, Rites, and Textual Aspects The ‘ceremony’ (upacara) in Sanskrit means service, honour, worship and supplication (Surada, 2007), or in Old Javanese language also known as upakara, which means to help, serve, grace and obligation (Zoetmulder, 1997), while ‘ritual’ is a culturally constructed symbolic communication system (Stausberg et al, 2006). Actually, rituals and ceremonies have a similar substance of service and worship, but the system and size of its activities are distinguished. As in the case of the Ngaponin ceremony, the ritual activities included in it comprise the ritual Mendewa. ‘Rent’ ritual activity is a ritual activity which calls the spirit of the ancestors to enter the human. This ritual in its existence is separated by the Ngaponin ceremony, however, to maintain the sanctity of the Ngaponin ceremony, the ritual of Mendewa took place in a series of ceremonies. This led to the birth of a ‘ritual’ in the ‘ceremony’. The presence of the Ngaponin ceremony every four years, according to the Sasak Kuto-kute customary calendar, aims to purify the sacred heritage of the Sasak Kuto-kute community. However, if we look at the cultural phenomenon, it can be considered that this has a relationship with the world community itself. As Jenks said, The phenomenon of culture has the content that comes through human plans and purposes; certain sensations or impressions reach us through our relationship with the world. (Jenks, 2013). This clearly indicates there is always a certain intent upon the teachings that the ancestors left for their generation, just as the ancestors of Sasak Kuto-kute have formulated the timeliness of metal oxidation and made it a pattern of ceremonies to survive in society. In connection with a ceremony, of course the time elected is an important element in a ceremony. It is similar to Koentjacaraningrat’s opinion about religious ceremonies in Indonesia which generally contain five components: 1) religious emotion, 2) belief system, 3) rite and ceremonial system, 4) ritual and ceremonial equipment, and 5) religious people (Koentjacaraningrat, 1993). The Ngaponin ceremony is held every four years on Friday in the year of Se (the year of Sasaknese). This is included in the ceremonial system referred to by Koentjaraningrat. In addition, the Ngaponin ceremony also uses facilities and special prasana from the primary, secondary and tertiary elements (or needs). Some examples are the Suling Dewa as the primary need, ceremonial participants as secondary need and traditional food as the tertiary need. 152 FUNCTIONALISM AND THE SULING DEWA IN THE NGAPONIN SACRED PURIFICATION CEREMONY OF NORTHERN LOMBOK The Suling Dewa as a primary need in the Ngaponin ceremony is a special ritual or ordinance in the ceremony that has a series of behaviours which give meaning through symbols (Kuper, 2008). This incident is inseparable from the textual elements of the Suling Dewa in the Ngaponin ceremony—the players of Suling Dewa (Jero Gamel as flute player and Inan Gending as vocal of the Suling Dewa), Suling Dewa lyric. Dedicated Suling Dewa instrument representing the direction (west, east, north and south) and the music composition of Suling Dewa (gending lokoq sebie as special gending for Ngaponin). If you consider the symbolic meaning of Suling Dewa through the stages of semiosis by Peirce in the form of repesentamen (R), object (O) and interpretant (I) (Mustansyir, 2011), the Table will be obtained as follows: Table 3. The Symbol Meanings of the Suling Dewa Text Numb Text 1 Players 2 Lyric 3 4 Suling DewaInstrument Music Compositions Representamen (R) Jero Gamel and Inan Gending Gending Lokok Sebie Flute Organology Gending Lokoq Sebie Object (O) Purity Supplication Interpretant (I) The balance of nature Cool and peaceful Breath Hot weather atmosphere Human Reflection Take natural energy Functionalism of Suling Dewa in the Ngaponin Sacred Ceremony The Suling Dewa in the Ngaponin ceremony explicitly positions itself in various functions of music and usability. The Suling Dewa has the ability to summon supernatural creatures and create imaginary walls in order to maintain the sanctity of the ceremony, but it should be known that the Suling Dewa also has other functions, such as communication, expression, physical response, the function of the organizers of conformity with social norms, the function of sustainability and cultural stability, and the function of support of social integrity and of solidarity. The above description is reviewed on field phenomena based on the theory put forward by Alan P. Meriam and Charles Keil (Merriam, 2000). However, the text in this chapter will not describe the way the functions of Suling Dewa in Ngaponin ceremony operate. In this chapter the discussion presented leads to the analysis of the causes of the establishment of function in the functions of Suling Dewa in Ngaponin ceremony. Entering more deeply into the formation of the idea of the function itself, it is certainly not loosely related to the body structure of objects that contain the predicate of the function itself. Let’s look at the anthropologist Levi Strauss's view of structuralism, which says that structuralists are systems of analysis that focus on systems of relationships that lie behind a grammatical structure and grammar (Abror, 2006). The following schematic is attached as network analytics based on the phenomenon of the field of Suling Dewa in Ngaponin ceremony along with the correlations. 153 NUR KHOLIS SUMARDI The top (or the top column) on this network explains that the Suling Dewa is an object consisting of two aspects of ‘text’ and ‘context’. Furthermore, the lines lead to an understanding of the aspect of the text and the context of the Suling Dewa which consists of its constituent items. The text chart on this network shows the text degrading the nature of the structure, and the context has ceremonial content as structure and further downgrades the system. Structures and systems are two aspects that are related but have the opposite nature. The structure has stagnant properties, while the system is dynamic. It is said so because the structure essentially has a proportional dichotomous position which runs and produces the system, whereas the system as a product of a structure moves dynamically, up and down, back and forth, linearly and exercises control over the will of its structure. The line between the two aspects of the text and the context in the network above shows that conceptually there is a relationship of these two sides as a whole in forming functional meaning. Value as the last product of the dialectic between expressions, situations, receptions and interpretations is generally regarded as the most influential factor in the formation of meaning. Thoughts of value and its focus on meaning have been extensively discussed in philosophical studies since Plato’s era (Gadamer, 1987), but through critical thinking comes the fact that the meaning of not standing alone, and the study, radically need to look at the circle of meaning itself. The significance of the above network is seen to be directly related to value, but it should be noted also that the circle of meaning relates to three elements, namely individual, universal, and aspectual. Furthermore, through these three elements meaning can be formed through all three, both even through one element at random. Therefore, these elements become cyclic, series and singular. The three elements of meaning will continue to bear different novelties through unique dialectical relationships. For example, when there is a predicate of universal meaning to the Suling Dewa function, but in its application the Suling Dewa meets with text and context with different meaning of aspect, hence will automatically be born new functional newness also. Likewise, if deconstruction occurs on the individual elements of the Suling Dewa, such as the addition of the number of music players and changes in musical composition, then this will contribute to overhaul the meaning of the aspect and universal and anchored to 154 FUNCTIONALISM AND THE SULING DEWA IN THE NGAPONIN SACRED PURIFICATION CEREMONY OF NORTHERN LOMBOK the impact on functionalism. So forth, the dynamics of the functional faces of Suling Dewa can change following the process of moving the three aspects of the core in the spiral orbit of the elements of meaning. Conclusion The Functionalism of the Suling Dewa at the Ngaponin ceremony manifests discourse on the concept of natural balance, coolness, natural energy enhancement, peace and human reflection in the Sasak Kuto-kute tribe, whereas in the communication function and the use value of Suling Dewa at the ritual Mendewa it has the purpose of summoning supernatural energy and creating an imaginary wall for the sanctity of the Ngaponin ceremony to stay awake. This is certainly caused by indications that have a significant power of change so as to tinker with the meaning of Suling Dewa functionalism and produce novelty functions at each different rituals and ceremonies. Significant power of change destabilizes the establishment of musical functionalism with systematic conceptualist structure relationships, so as to produce power that matches the load. Dynamic and ever-changing systems that follow structural control produce a unique dialectic among universal, aspectual and individual elements in their meaning. In other words, the meaning of functionalism in the Suling Dewa in the Ngaponin ceremony is formed by the singularity of the element of meaning or merging between the three and the two that always change following the structure of the Suling Dewa. Therefore Suling Dewa has a very good adaptation power to fight modernization. And, during the Islam Metu Telu ceremony which is still done, the Suling Dewa still can survive. References Abror, R. H. (2006). Strukturalisme Levi-Strauss: Positivis dan fungsionalistis? Yogyakarta: Insight Reference. Gadamer, W. G. (1987). Hermeneutics: Tradition and reason. Oxford: Polity Press. Jenks, C. (2013). Culture (Trans. Erika Setyawati). Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar. Koentjacaraningrat. (1993). Ritus peralihan di Indonesia. Jakarta: Balai Pustaka. Kuper, A. K. & Jessica. (2008). Ensiklopedi ilmu-ilmu social (Trans. Haris Munandar, Aris Ananda, Meri J. Binsar, Yanto Mustofa, Tris Wibowa Budi Santoso). Jakarta: PT Raja Grafindo Persada. Merriam, A. P. (2000). Antropologi musik. Yogyakarta: Program S-2 Pascasarjana Institut Seni Indonesia Yogyakarta. Mustansyir, R. (2011). Charles Sanders Pierce’s sign philosophy in perspectives of analytical philosophy relevance for contemporary culture in Indonesia (Doctoral dissertation). UGM Yogyakarta, Indonesia. Surada, I. M. (2007). Kamus sansekerta Indonesia. Denpasar: Widya Dharma. Stausberg, J. K., Snoek, J., & and Michael. (Eds.). (2006). Theorizing rituals issues: Topics, approaches, concepts. Leiden-Boston: Brill. Zoetmulder, P. J. & Robson, S. O. (1997). Kamus Jawa Kuna-Indonesia 2 P-Y, Darusuprapta (Trans. Suprayitna Sumarti). Jakarta: PT Gramedia Pustaka Utama. 155 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA RE-VOICING PANCASILA: CATHOLIC MUSIC AND RELIGIOUS PLURALISM IN INDONESIA (Lightning Paper) Emilie Coakley University of Pittsburgh, USA On August 6, 2017, at the Indonesian Airforce Academy on the outskirts of Yogyakarta, Indonesia, former Indonesia’s Got Talent finalist, Hudson, and the Yogyakarta Dearah Istemewa Choir performed an arrangement by Bapak Tonie Widyarto of the Indonesian patriotic song "Indonesia Jaya.” Following the closing Mass of 7th Catholic Asian Youth Day (AYD), this performance served as a kind of pivot point between the Eucharistic celebration and preparation for the political speeches which followed. Half way through the song, during an instrumental interlude, choir members together shouted “Saya Indonesia; Saya Pancasila!,” waving mini-Indonesian flags affixed to plastic drinking straws. Echoing the exact words of President Joko Widodo’s slogan in honor of Pancasila Day 2017, the performance of this choir of more than 500 Indonesian Catholic youth is just one example of the recent re-voicing of the famed Indonesian political philosophy of Pancasila that has been produced by the Catholic community in Yogyakarta over the past year. That same summer in Yogyakarta, in June 2017, composer Paul Widyawan—conductor of the Vocalista Sonora choir—published a songbook titled “Pancasila” with the Pusat Musik Liturgi (Center for Liturgical Music or PML). The book’s cover pictures a Garuda bird superimposed over the Indonesian flag, and boasts of 32 choral arrangements of national songs. The opening song, “Pancasila,” is in “5/4” meter and arranged for five voices, with a beat and voice-part for each of the five principles of this political philosophy. Detailing his aspirations for this particular song, towards the end of his preface to this book—dated June 1, 2017, the first annual “Hari Lahir Pancasila” [The Birthday of Pancasila]—Pak Paul wrote that “hopefully [the song “Pancasila”] will be useful to realize the contents of the lyrics as the base foundation of our country” (Widyawan, 2017).1 In fact, the lyrics are, word for word, the five tenets of Pancasila itself. Similar to how the AYD youth choir chanted their embodiment of Pancasila in the middle of their performance of “Indonesia Jaya,” this publication is one of the pragmatic ways the PML is aligning with President Widodo’s Pancasila politics. Despite the fact that Pancasila has been used and re-used throughout Indonesia’s history, I am reading this the recent re-voicing as an agentive move: a reminder that the tenets of Pancasila, and particularly the first tenet purporting religious pluralism, need to be remembered for the sake of all Indonesian citizens. Past uses of Pancasila include, but are not limited to, the famed 100 hours of Pancasila education required for all civil servants under the Suharto regime (see Morfit, 1981; Weatherbee, 1985). The current social atmosphere in Yogyakarta—particularly from 2017 to the present—is thick with a history of religious tension and past conflict. For Pak Paul and members of the PML and Yogyakarta Catholic community, this reality was highlighted in February 2018, when PML director Father Karl-Edmund Prier was attacked while saying Mass at a local church. In a conversation later that month, PML staff member Bapak Yohanes Wahyudi explained to me how Pancasila historically was created by Indonesia’s founding fathers in response to various extreme factions threatening national unity (Yohanes Wahyudi, personal communication, February 27, 2018). Thus, the importance of the tenets of Pancasila and the ability of these principles to be acted upon to secure a basis of religious pluralism is ever poignant now in Indonesia and particularly in the city of Yogyakarta. The PML, under the leadership of Father Karl-Edmund Prier in conjunction with Pak Paul, has a history of using Indonesian state ideologies—like “Unity in Diversity” (Bhinneka Tunggal Ika)—to support their project of inculturated music (musik inkulturasi). The PML has used such national ideologies to justify musical choices, as exemplified through their attempted archipelagic representation of Catholic communities in Indonesia through the “Madah Bakti” hymnal (Poplawska, 2008, p. 94). However, through my past seven months of participation in PML events, archival research at their library, and attendance of PML concerts and training sessions, I have concluded that their recent use of Pancasila—through lyrics, meter, ideology, and image—takes their employment of Indonesian political symbols a step further from representation to political accountability. In this sense, Indonesian Catholics are employing Pancasila to assert their right to full citizenship in their country, which hinges on the practice and protection of religious pluralism. Police and politicians, including Indonesian Vice President Jusuf Kalla, responded to this call for the promotion and protection of religious diversity through their participation in AYD 2017. Another show of state support for the Indonesian Catholic community in Yogyakarta occurred during the week before that 156 RE-VOICING PANCASILA: CATHOLIC MUSIC AND RELIGIOUS PLURALISM IN INDONESIA closing Mass, when a battalion of local police officers welcomed a delegation of Asian Catholic youth who visited the PML on 4 August, 2017, as part of a scheduled AYD excursion. While the officers’ presence that day seemed more symbolic than security oriented—with lunching together and picture-taking as the main activities engaged in—the fact of their presence registers as a supportive response to activities going on in the Yogyakartan Catholic community: a response both called for and supported by the community’s musical intonement of Pancasila throughout that summer. In fact, according to Professor of Ethnomusicology and musician at AYD, Drs. Krismus Purba, AYD itself can be considered an example of Pancasila (Pancasialis), explaining that through their invitation of Vice President Jusuf Kalla, AYD organizers were asserting the compatibility of being Catholic and being Indonesian (Drs. Krismus Purba, M. Hum., personal communication, July 4, 2018). The fact that the AYD organizers worked to assert their Indonesian citizenship through national symbols—and to have such belonging affirmed through the invitation of political figures— shows the capital required to be 100 percent Indonesian and the tools they had at their disposal, particularly Pancasila and music. The Yogyakarta Catholic community’s timely re-use of Pancasila, I contend, has currency to it. Follow Pierre Bourdieu’s “Forms of Capital,” I see it as serving as a form of both objectified and embodied cultural capital, as instrumental figures in the Yogyakarta Catholic scene are literally making Pancasila work for them (Bourdieu, 1986, p. 241). Furthermore, looking at Benedict Anderson’s work on print capital, particularly the importance of print materials in supporting agendas of the nation-state, I see the printing of a composition on Pancasila by the PML and the use of President Jokowi’s phrase at AYD as concrete examples of how national symbols are being musically mobilized by minority religious organizations (Anderson, 1991, pp. 40-45). In the words of former-PML staff member Bernadeth Diaz, “We are Pancasila; we are unity…everyone is different but one. The church will be like that” (Bernadeth Diaz, personal communication, March 13, 2018).2 Ultimately, through this examination of the use of Pancasila, and in my larger dissertation research on Catholic music in Indonesia (of which this is a part), I am arguing for an ethnographic understanding of communities’ relationships to centers of political and religious power through music. In so doing, I am advocating here for a re-examination of traditional center-periphery paradigm in Indonesianist studies, through the study of national symbols associated with music. In conclusion, through music, the Indonesian Catholic community in Yogyakarta address their desire for religious pluralism and tolerance through cultural capital concretized in a songbook or a song sung by hundreds of youth. Thus, they print and perform their allegiance to the Indonesian nation-state at a time when their belonging seems most at stake. Endnotes 1 In Indonesian: “Semoga bermanfaat untuk menghayati isi syair sebagai dasar negara kita” (Widyawan, 2017, “Kata Pengantar”). All English-language translations in this paper have been done by the author (E. Coakley), unless otherwise specified. 2 In Indonesian: “Kita Pancasila; kita bhinneka…bhinneka tunggal ika; semua yang berbeda-beda tetap satu. Gereja akan ‘gitu” (B. Diaz, personal communication, March 13, 2018). References Anderson, B. R. O’G. (1991). Imagined communities: reflection on the origin and spread of nationalism (Revised ed.). London: Verso. Asian Youth Day. (Streamed live 2017, August 6). Live from Asian Youth Day 2017 6 AUG 2017. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSkgvRDux5A. 3:00:27-3:01:14. Bourdieu, P. (1986). The forms of capital. In J. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of theory and research for the sociology of education (pp. 241-258). New York, Greenwood. Retrieved from http://www.marxists. org/reference/subject/philosophy/works/fr/bourdieu-forms-capital.htm Widyawan, P. (2017). Pancasila: Lagu-lagu nasional and perjuangan: Arransemen paduan suara. Yogyakarta, Indonesia: Pusat Musik Liturgi Yogyakarta. 157 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA “WOR AURAK” AT A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL CEREMONY BY BIAK YOUTH TO A SENTANI YOUNG WOMAN AT JAYAPURA, PAPUA, INDONESIA (Lightning Paper) I Wayan Rai S. Institut Seni Budaya Indonesia (ISBI), Indonesia Introduction This paper is part of the research results on Wor, the indigenous cultural arts of the Biak tribe. The Biak tribe is one of 254 tribes who now live in Papua (Indonesia). Specifically, in this paper Wor Aurak discusses the marriage proposal of a young Biak man towards a young Sentani woman. This study approaches the study of Wor interms of itself and its socio-cultural context. Research on Wor is urgent because the literature on Wor is still limited and tends to be incomplete. In addition, the most worrying thing is the increasing influence of globalization which has caused drastic changes in the Biak community that have fatal impacts on Wor’s existence today. Definition of Wor Wor has two meanings, namely: (1) Wor is a traditional ceremony or a traditional party, and (2) Wor as a traditional song. As a traditional ceremony, it was carried out by a Biak tribe family to protect children during the transitional period which was seen as a dangerous time so that it must be protected by Wor. As a song in the implementation of the Biak traditional ceremony, it is sung along with a dance movement accompanied by a musical instrument called Tifa or Sireb (single-headed drum). Type, Structure, and Wor Player Regarding the type of Wor, Sam Kapissa (1994) notes there are at least 19 types, while Hendrik Baransano found about 26 types of Wor. According to Baransano (H. Baransano, personal communication, January 28, 2018), a Wor expert who now lives in Waena, Jayapura, this amount will increase if the information about sacred types of Wor can be documented. The Wor structure consists of two parts, namely: the first part is called kadwor or the tip, while the second part is called fuar or base. At the kadwor, the message or purpose to be conveyed is made vaguely or in puzzles so that the listener does not yet understand the real intention. The message conveyed will become clear at the fuar because in this section the puzzle is answered clearly (Rai S., 2018). The text from Wor uses the Biak language and the message conveyed through the text itself is adapted to the context. Wor uses a pentatonic scale consisting of five dominant tones, namely: 1 (do), 2 (re), 3 (mi), 5 (sol), and 6 (la). When performing in certain events, the male Wor players use traditional costumes such as crowns (headdress), tassel, and body painting with certain motives in accordance with the customs and beliefs of the tribe. The female player’s face is adorned with dots that symbolize they are the children of a leader (chieftain) and also painted with tattoos on her face which distinguishes her from other female participants who are not the daughter of a chieftain. Function of Wor As a sacred traditional song, Wor is seen as a protector of life of the Biak tribe. This fact is illustrated by an expression that reads “Nggo Wor Baido Na Nggomar” which means “if we don't sing and dance (Wor), we will die.” The term “die” in this context is not merely meant to die physically, but to die psychologically. Biak people who do not carry out Wor are considered “dead people” meaning they are physically alive but considered psychologically like someone who has died. For example, the picture below shows Wor’s function in the life cycle of the Biak tribe, since the baby still in the womb, birth, marriage, and death. 158 “WOR AURAK” AT A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL CEREMONY BY BIAK YOUTH TO A SENTANI YOUNG WOMAN AT JAYAPURA, PAPUA, INDONESIA Figure 1. Life Cycle of the Biak Tribe. Information: 1. Kokfo Ayus 2. Anumbesop 3. Famamar 4. Maman 5. Kapapnik 6. Masorandak 7. Kabor Insos 8. Fakfuken 9. Ararem 10. Ramren 11. Yakyaker 16. Marar Kaderen 12. Wafwofer 13. Apen Bayeren 14. Pangkar Ankyon 15. Rasrus The picture above depicts the life cycle of the Biak people, starting with number 1 located in the middle, then moving according to the next sequence number and ending at sequence number 16. Numbers 1-16, describe the life cycle starting from the baby in the womb, the process marriage, and ends with death. Wor Aurak at the Marriage Proposal of a Young Biak Man to a Young Sentani Woman Wor Aurak is one type of Wor. In the past, Wor Aurak was a song to gather warriors who would go to the battlefield as well as stimulate the fighting spirit of people who would fight in the battlefield. Wor Aurak songs are a medium that can easily ignite the spirit of soldiers to never give up and be determined to win the war. Today Wor Aurak is also used in the context of other “wars”, as seen in the marriage proposal ceremony by a young Biak man named Markus Rumbino to a young Sentani woman named Irma Dian Awoitauw. The Biak tribe is amongst the Seireri customary territory, while the Sentani tribe is from the Mamta (Mambramo Tabi) customary territory. In the past, the marriage of two people from two different tribes and customary territories was often very difficult and the process was very intricate. Along with the times, the difficult and complex conditions that were in past times are now gradually changing. In relation to this marriage proposal, the Rumbino family has traditionally approached and met with the Awoitauw family according to their respective traditions. According to the agreement at the meeting of the two families, the marriage proposal was held on August 19, 2017 at the Awoitauw family home in Sentani, singing Wor Aurak as below: Kadwor: Fuar: Meaning: Ryabe soa wo ryabe soa Indai inbena ner aniraya ryabe soa Wo ryabe soa Where are you going? Indai fish of the coral reefs Where are you going? Indai fish as a symbol of a knight 159 I WAYAN RAI S. The series of the marriage proposal went very smoothly. Wor Aurak has inspired the spirit of the Biak tribe to succeed in the marriage proposal. On the other hand, the Sentani tribe accepted it gracefully in accordance with the current development. This proposal is an example of how a very rigid situation in the past, can be smooth and flexible on the basis of mutual respect for each other. In closing this paper, it can be said that in order to understand a culture more comprehensively we can approach SG line (Specific-General), from a specific (i.e. Wor Aurak) to a broader context namely customs and culture. Thus, in the future a multidisciplinary approach becomes one of the most important research approach models in accordance with the context. References Kapissa, S. (1994). Eksistensi wor Biak dan upaya pelestariannya (Revisi Makalah Seminar). Papua: Fakultas Ilmu Sosial dan Ilmu Politik, Universitas Cenderawasih. Rai S., I W. (2018). Why are they singing and dancing? Art, identity, and reality of wor tradition in Biak tribe, Papua. Paper presented at the International Seminar FKI X 2018, Surabaya. 160 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA FOLLOWING THE WHIMS OF THE DEMON: THE FUNCTION AND USAGE OF ANGSEL/NGOPAK IN JAUK KERAS (Lightning Paper) Kurt Schatz University of Music and Performing Arts Graz, Austria Introduction This article focuses on the usage and function of the different cues provided by the dancer called angsel or ngopak in the traditional Balinese dance of Jauk keras. Before discussing angsel in detail, a short description of the dance and the music is given. This is followed by a discussion of the different kinds of angsel found in Jauk keras and a final conclusion on their function and usage. The Dance Jauk keras is an improvisational Balinese male solo mask dance, similar in its conception to the now more frequently performed and more heavily researched dance of Baris tunggal. While the term “Jauk” refers to the character personified by the dancer during a performance, the word “keras” (harsh or rude), describes the character's temper (I. W. Budiarsa, personal communication, July, 2018). According to my dance teacher I Made “Cat” Suteja, Jauk is at present considered the second type of male dance a student learns after mastering Baris (personal communication, November 2017). While it is unclear when exactly the Jauk dance emerged, it can be assumed that it started off as a group dance and was later transformed into a solo performance. As stated by Bandem and deBoer (1995), Baris tunggal served as a model for the Jauk solo dance. Having this in mind, it can be concluded that the soonest possible time of origin of the Jauk solo dance lies at the turn of the 20th century after Baris tunggal’s emergence (Dibia & Ballinger, 2005). Jauk keras does not depict any kind of story, but the dancer enacts the role of a—in the words of Bandem and deBoer (1995)—“puzzled, fierce demon who […] has been suddenly wrenched into an alien and dangerous reality” (p. 122). This impression might be based on the sudden and impulsive movements incorporated in the dance improvisation, as well as on the overall outfit of the dancer. Especially the red, fierce looking mask with its bulbous eyes and protruding teeth along with the long fingernails attached to the dancer’s gloves signify the Jauk keras character as demonic (see Figure 1). Figure 1. Jauk keras dancer. (Photo by the author) At present, Jauk keras can be seen in concerts staging different kinds of Balinese dance in the context of temple festivals, as pengelembar (introductory dance) for Topeng panca, Topeng prembon or a Calonarang, in dance competitions as well as in tourist performances (Bandem & deBoer, 1995; Hood, 2016). 161 KURT SCHATZ The Music In a performance, a single dancer dressed as the Jauk keras character can be accompanied by either a gamelan gong kebyar or a gamelan pelegongan/bebarongan (Covarrubias, 1937; Tenzer, 2000). In both cases, a single drummer, playing kendang tunggal in gupekan-style (hand drumming), is leading the gamelan. The composition accompanying the dance shows a ternary form with two identical A parts in fast tempo framing a considerably slower B part. The melody played during the A parts of the composition is known as “Bapang Durga” (I. N. Wenten, personal communication, July 2018). Although these parts are musically identical, in practice the first A part is referred to as pepeson while the second one is called pekaad, the commonly used names for the opening and closing parts of a dance. The slow middle section can be referred to as pengadeng, pelayon, or also pengawak. Despite the drastic difference in tempo between the fast A sections and the pengawak, both parts consist of an 8-beat gong cycle, having the same gong pattern, which is referred to as bapang, and a similar melodic progression. If a gamelan gong kebyar accompanies the dance, the gong structure might be slightly denser, although in both cases the deepest pitched gong present in the gamelan is struck on the 8th beat, while klentong/kemong is sounded at the midpoint on the 4th beat. As already stated, Jauk keras is an improvised dance performance. Musically, this means that the number of gong cycles of each musical part is not confined to a certain number of repetitions, but depends on the dancer. While the musical material of all the metallophones and gongs of the accompanying gamelan is predefined, the only musician having to some extent the freedom to improvise is the kendang player. His/Her task during a Jauk keras performance is, as stated by my kendang teacher I Gde Made Indra Sadguna, to “translate the dance into rhythm” (personal communication, April 2018) as well as to react to and interpret certain cues provided by the dancer. Further, the kendang player is responsible for passing these cues on to the other gamelan musicians, so that the appropriate musical change in terms of dynamic or structure is executed. These cues are called angsel or ngopak. Angsel/Ngopak in Jauk Keras An angsel, as stated by Tenzer (2000), is a “[s]trongly articulated dance movement and/or musical rhythm, cued and coordinated by an active drumming pattern” (p. 449). Sadguna (2012) describes them as “signs, or cues of change” (p. 39). What might be added to these definitions is that every angsel has a start and ending point, which are not arbitrary but have to fall on certain points in time during the gong cycle. In Jauk keras, the dancer is responsible for initiating and ending angsels at the right point. The kendang player, who is constantly monitoring the dancer’s movements, follows the dancer’s cues while also making sure that the gamelan musicians do the same. He/She does this by playing louder and providing the appropriate cue and drumming pattern, which might differ depending on which kind of angsel is executed by the dancer. From a musical point of view, there are basically four different kind of angsel found in Jauk keras, which largely correspond to the kinds of angsel in the Barong dance as described by Sadguna (2012). The most basic kind of angsel is called angsel bawak, although in practice it is most often just referred to as angsel. This kind of angsel is characterised by taking up 8 beats if performed during the pepeson or pekaad, although its start and ending point do not line up with gong or klentong, but lie between those colotomic markers. In theory, the dancer gives the cue for this angsel between the 5th and 6th beat, while the kendang player responds between the 6th and 7th beat. The rest of the gamelan follows the cue of the kendang player by increasing their volume with the approaching gong on the 8th beat. The gamelan continues to play loud until the 5th beat where it sounds a last open note, but remains calm until the next gong. The angsel is ended by the dancer with an appropriate eye movement—most commonly accented eye movements to the side, although variations are possible—finished around the 6th beat, while the drum responds to it in between the 6th and 7th beat. During this kind of angsel, the movement of the dancer is unbroken until he reaches his final posture before performing the accented eye movement (see Figure 2). 162 FOLLOWING THE WHIMS OF THE DEMON: THE FUNCTION AND USAGE OF ANGSEL/NGOPAK IN JAUK KERAS Figure 2. Angsel bawak and angsel kado ([i]ncomplete/[c]anceled) in relation to the gong-pattern and each other. G = gong; t = klentong. A second kind of angsel found in Jauk keras is angsel kado, which has been described to me in two different ways. While Sadguna (2012) explains angsel kado as an incomplete angsel, starting after gong and ending in the same gong cycle it was initiated, taking up only about 4 to 5 beats, I Wayan Budiarsa defines it as a cancelled angsel, which starts and ends at the same time as angsel bawak, but incorporates a pause in movement by the dancer (see Figure 2). Angsel numpuk, or stacked angsel, refers to a sequence of angsel chained together without a pause in between them, so that after finishing the first angsel, the dancer immediately initiates the next one. Theoretically this could be done an infinite number of times, although in practice up to 4 angsel are chained together at most. The fourth and most elaborate kind of angsel in Jauk keras is called angsel lantang or ngopak lantang, which means long angsel. As its name already suggests, this angsel takes up several gong cycles, while its definite length is very much depending on the dancer. Since the dancer has the freedom to do as he/she wishes after initiating ngopak lantang, a turn marks the approaching end of it. Whereas the three kind of angsel described before can be used countless times during a performance, having the basic function of providing accents in the performance and giving shape and character to the dancer’s rendition of the Jauk figure, ngopak lantang can only be executed four times at most. This is because it is used to initiate either certain angsel sequences, the pengawak, or the end of the performance. From the dancer’s point of view, several kinds of angsel should be added to this list. If dancers talk about angsel, they often describe them from an action-oriented perspective, meaning that the movements incorporated in an angsel should express some kind of action or emotion, bringing their personified character to life. One of the most important ones, which appears in every complete performance of Jauk keras and is commonly understood by dancers and musicians, is ngalih pajeng. Ngalih pajeng means search the umbrella and can be defined as an angsel sequence that is performed to the right and left side of the stage. As described by Suteja, this angsel sequence consist of three actions, namely touch, observe and return the umbrella (personal communication, June 2018). Conclusion In conclusion, it can be said that angsel in Jauk keras have the function of providing accents to the performance as well as to give character to the dancer's rendition of the Jauk keras figure. By means of angsel, the dancer not only has control of certain musical parameters, but is able to express actions and emotions by varying the movements incorporated in the execution of the different kind of angsel and chaining them together. Furthermore, as in the case of ngopak lantang, angsel can be used to progress the performance and/or music structurally, placing the dancer in charge of the overall course of the performance. 163 KURT SCHATZ References Bandem, I. M., & Deboer, F. E. (1995). Balinese dance in transition: Kaja and Kelod. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: Oxford University Press. Covarrubias, M. (1937). Island of Bali. New York, NY: A. A. Knopf. Dibia, I. W., & Ballinger, R. (2005). Balinese dance, drama and music. Singapore: Periplus. Hood, M. M. (2016). Persistent mutualisms: Energizing the symbiotic relationship between Balinese dancer and drummer. In Mohd, A. M. N., & Stepputat, K. (Eds.), Sounding the dance, moving the music: Choreomusicology in maritime Southeast Asia (pp. 42-56). London, UK: Routledge. Sadguna, I. G. M. I. (2012). The kendang bebarongan in Balinese music: An organological study. Denpasar, Bali: UPT Penerbitan. Tenzer, M. (2000). Gamelan gong kebyar: The art of twentieth-century Balinese music. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. 164 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA INNOVATION OF TEMBANG BALI WITHIN AN EVER-CHANGING LOCAL-GLOBAL DOMAIN I Komang Sudirga ISI Denpasar, Indonesia Background In many instances, the rise of globalization and advanced technology have diminished and ruined traditional arts. One form of Balinese art also affected by globalization is the art of singing or nembang. Tembang Bali is a Balinese musical expression using vocals. Before the 1980s, Tembang Bali was marginalized and gradually abandoned given modern culture. Attention and interest from the younger generation diminished following the mindset gap that contrasts tradition with modernity. Such cognitive mapping influenced the rise of a younger Balinese generation lacking the confidence to present Balinese tembang in their daily social activities. Ardika (2005, p. 18) asserts that such social ambiguity will in turn produce psychological unrest and identity crisis. Traditional confidence needed for self-development becomes uncertain, nevertheless counterproductive (Suseno, 2006, p. 24). The lapse or absence of Balinese traditional singing in economically oriented cultural events has also contributed to the decline of Tembang Bali, thus the art form is not able to take part in professional creative and economic activities. As a result, the more ‘devotion’ oriented Tembang Bali was unable to become a creative commodity that increases the living qualities in economic terms, and bring social pride to performers, especially in the domain of the younger generation. Concerning that issue, this article focuses on the struggle of Tembang Bali in this global age in particular: why is Tembang Bali seemingly uncompetitive in this era of globalization? How do we actualize Tembang Bali in order to make it more competitive in this era of globalization? What kind of innovation must be performed to ensure that Tembang Bali exists in this local-global dominion? Discussion Pragmatic Mindset A large number of youngsters view Balinese traditional vocal music as mellow, lacking zest and being more suited for the elderly. Furthermore, the spiritual orientation of texts seems distant to the contemporary youthful spirit. The moral codes contained are perceived as useless in the pursuit of happiness. Such bleak comprehension mandates that traditional arts are only suitable for spiritually charged traditional customs. As a result, neglect and abandonment of traditional Balinese vocal music by the younger generation becomes the norm. While the newer generation is aware that moral codes of Balinese tembang evolve on values promising inner peace and spiritual pleasure, those values are perceived as insignificant in fulfilling more urgent economic wants and needs. The demand to satisfy economic objectives has placed modern-pop music as a more promising, popular and faster outlet in contrast to being preoccupied with traditional singing. Individuals have the notion that mastering and being successful in modern music will stimulate popularity, admiration, media exposure and celebrity treatment in comparison to a singer in a sekaa santi ‘singing group’ even though the individual is highly proficient. Figure 1. Mabebasan for ritual. (Photo by I Komang Sudirga) 165 I KOMANG SUDIRGA The above conviction asserts how modernity has shifted the viewpoint of a younger generation in sustaining and comprehending their own cultural traditions. The broadcasting of popular music, dangdut twerking and other contemporary forms in an industrial scale are far more glamourous and spectacular to attain instant popularity and fulfil dreams. Without a local frame of mind in the practice of arts, it can be assured that the younger generation as the main bearer of tradition will look elsewhere and embrace modern culture, mostly because it is perceived as trendy, superior and guarantees a better future. The demise of tradition caused by the overpowering global forces during the aftermath of the Bali Bombing I (2002) motivated various social components of Bali—pioneered by Bali Post Media Group—to assemble and revive local wisdom through a seminar titled “Menuju Strategi Ajeg Bali” held on August 16, 2003 (Ardana, 2004). The “Ajeg Bali” discourse became a trigger, mandating Balinese people to rethink and reconstruct their identity based on the formula of custom, culture and religion (Sudirga, 2012, p. 394). Ajeg Bali as a cultural movement became a widespread phenomenon throughout all levels of society including intellectuals and the general public. Groups disseminated this discourse at the grass roots level, spreading Ajeg Bali as a massive cultural movement (Bawa Atmaja, 2010, p. 3). Overall, Ajeg Bali clearly became a platform to realise the ever-changing milieu of social and cultural life. Developing Local Spirit and Innovative Packaging Appadurai in Ritzer and Goodman (2011, p. 598) asserts five cultural flows that define a global culture as ideoscapes, technoscapes, mediascapes, ethnoscapes, and finanscapes. These five ‘scapes’ are very hard to resist. In relation to Tembang Bali, ideoscapes concern political notions such as freedom, democracy, sovereignty, prosperity and hegemony. Technoscapes pertain to the rapid and borderless flow of technology, while mediascapes relate to the vastness of information disseminated by media all over the world. Ethnoscapes and finanscapes are influential to aspects of cultural tourism and economy. Post the New Order era saw the rise of democratization and freedom of speech that provided a medium for the Balinese to speak their mind and express various perspectives as well as ideas through vocal music and singing in groups called sekaa santi. The rapid progress of scientific and technological advancement in broadcasting including radio and television became a strong impetus for traditional communities to establish aesthetic connections and communication through the development of interactive tembang/kidung programs on numerous radio and television channels (Creese, 2009; Darma Putra, 2009). Both mediums strongly influenced the establishment and rise of numerous sekaa shanti that emerged sporadically around the island. One particular radio program that continues to entice a wide spectrum of Tembang Bali fans and audiences is the innovative interactive program called Dagang Gantal, broadcasted by RRI Denpasar (Darma Putra, 1998, pp. 18-29). The supporters of Dagang Gantal not only come from Bali, but also from neighbouring regions such as Banyuwangi (East Java), Lombok, Sumba and Sumbawa (West Nusa Tenggara Province). The renowned Dagang Gantal slogan is “Batan Sinar Bagi Rasa Den Lomba Pelecing” a strung together acronym which represents the broadcast or listening range of the districts Badung, Tabanan, Singaraja, Negara, Bangli, Gianyar, Amlapura, Semarapura, Denpasar, Lombok, Banyuwangi, Sumbawa, Penida, Lembongan, and Ceningan. On the other hand, there are many innovative Tembang Bali programs on television, including Gegirang on TVRI (1999), Gita Santi on Bali TV (2003), and Mageguritan on BMC TV (2010). However, a particular TV station that continues to innovate the presentation of Tembang Bali on television is Dewata TV (2008), presently known as Kompas TV. In the program called Tembang Guntang, the art form is not solely presented as the usual session of mabebasan ‘singing and interpreting’ but more creatively the audience are presented with dramatization that acts as a visualization upon the story being sung by the singer and recited by the translator. Dewata TV has managed to air numerous stories in such a theatrical format, including popular stories of Bagawan Dharma Swami, Tuung Kuning, Sampik Ing Tai, and Ki Balian Batur. This approach has grown into a popular alternative package and continues to gain high ratings from the public following the highly proficient singing by the professional tembang singers, but also from the greatly entertaining format of additional text subtitles, animation and artistic dramatization. In addressing the problems and challenges faced by Balinese vocal music in this global age, the government and various community elements of Bali have worked together to revive local eagerness through art festivals among students, Gita Santi, Utsawa Dharma Gita, and the Bali Arts Festival. Among many, the principal spirit being revived through these festivals is jengah (competitive pride), which underlines the Balinese fervour for contest and competition. When it comes to competition whether in the form of 166 INNOVATION OF TEMBANG BALI WITHIN AN EVER-CHANGING LOCAL-GLOBAL DOMAIN mabarung, parade, competition or festival, the Balinese will exert and channel all of their economic, social, cultural and symbolic resources to ensure winning. A professional and qualified contest ensures the birth and rise of better and finer creative works. The prestigious Bali Arts Festival has proven to be an extensive medium for creativity, particularly in terms of innovative showcasing of the art form through sandya gita, gegitaan and taman penasar. One specific outlet that recently has been gaining plentiful public interest for the showcasing of contest winners and experts alike is the Taman Penasar. Stemming from arja negak, this particular form is engaging and allows exploration of local wisdom and potencies that are synonymous with global trends or issues. While it may sometimes stand as a middle ground, Taman Penasar empowers the presentation of traditional arts in contemporary aesthetic propensities. Since the early 2000s, Taman Penasar continues to boast innovation. For instance, Taman Penasar of Denpasar won first prize during the Bali Arts Festival 2017 and combined elements of a chamber ensemble of drums and percussion called gamelan geguntangan and an archaic set of instruments called gamelan gambang. With its sacred and magical conception, gamelan gambang creatively reinterpreted an elegant synergy between past and present musical modes and forms, inducing a strong taksu ‘stage presence’ and aesthetic prowess. The resourceful combination of vocals with gamelan geguntangan and gambang managed to build a new musical atmosphere. The dialogue among participant and moderator created an enthralling dramatic performance, focusing the philosophical teaching of ulun danu or the role of water in life. In general, there are stark differences between the presentation of taman penasar in contrast to gita santi. The main structure of taman penasar is still mabebasan, however it incorporates theatrical aspects to stage and convey profound social issues that may be recent, conflicting and disrupting. Taman penasar is performed under the direction of a central figure called penyegjeg who takes on the responsibility as moderator. The conflicting ‘pros and cons’ discourse enacted by the protagonist and antagonist figures leads to heated discussion. Themes such as social conflict caused by environmental exploitation and destruction present a contemplative reflection about harmony expressed through moral codes and spiritual cleansing contained within the ‘text’. The moderator plays an important role in mediating and interpreting the message in a straightforward and concise manner to sustain a logical discourse and comprehension toward the theme. The strong and vivid imaginative play constructed by the moderator directs the audience to conduct self introspection and to reassess the matter at hand, in this case the contemporary issue of water and its integral purpose for sustaining life. This discourse continues to examine the impacts of exploitation toward the balance and harmony of the ecosystem and nature. The proportional management of dialogue between the protagonist and antagonist characters makes the scenography alive and interesting. Stage setting and decorations are prepared accordingly to ensure an aesthetic imagery that flows with the environmental harmony theme. It is no surprise that these one hour long performances appeal to audiences. The use of comedy and humour to accentuate moral messages amid the serious situation provides refreshing and entertaining food for thought. Innovation of Tembang Bali In other publications I have compared innovations relating to Balinese vocal music that are not much different to the innovations of Balinese gamelan (Sudirga, 2017, pp. 5-7). The innovation comprises the structure of musicality, ideology and production. Observing the livelihood of Tembang Bali within an ever-changing global domain shows that it exists and dominates within the realms of ritual. But because form follows meaning, it also thrives within the realms of social and media. Concurrent to Piliang (2003, p. 223) that innovation is a drive to answer boredom and revolt against establishments by illusive means, forms of innovation are full of sensation, weird, enticing, and unusual. Other convictions such as the drive to seek identity and self-significance through artworks are also the means to revive Tembang Bali. The shift of emphasis in Tembang Bali relates to changes in compositional structure, content, and appearance. These flexibilities have encouraged a spectacular growth in the number of performers. In recent years, there has been a drastic increase from 626 sekaa santi in 1992 to 3141 sekaa santi at the end of 2011 (Sudirga, 2012). Although in the past eight years Bali has experienced diminishing intensity, in general pasantian continues to exist, and there are no days without pasantian in Bali. Artist innovation ensures that Tembang Bali continues to play a significant role in ritual, social and media domains. With regards to ritual, there has been much change in the presentation format, not only 167 I KOMANG SUDIRGA maintaining the mabebasan form (sing-translate), but also embracing other forms including gita santi, arja negak and taman penasar. In a social context, profound innovation occurred in aesthetic presentations and re-contextualization of musical elements, accompanying ensemble, and content. Meanwhile, live and interactive performances on electronic media such as radio and television continue to provide significant air time for the art form. The use of animation technology provides an artistic and cinematography angle to present the variances of the ensemble from called tembang guntang. Such varied formats of tembang guntang show that the vastness of information and communication technology actually revives and thrusts the local enthusiasm and spirit upon traditional arts to a new level and direction. Kumbara (2008, p. 201) asserts that globalization not only pulls up to create homogeneity, but also pushes down creating new emphasis for local autonomy stimulating distinct ethnic cultures. Davis (in Geriya, 2008, p. 170) mentions that cultural resilience depends on the attitude of its main pillar; the people. In this age of globalization, defensive capabilities counter negative influences in a dynamic and procedural manner. This defence relies on the creativity and vitality of Balinese artists in furthering traditional art forms, especially the form and content of Tembang Bali as a stimulant to strengthen a unique cultural identity. A dialogue of elements takes place where the global is localized and the local is globalised, to which amasses what is referred to as glocality (Robertson in Barker, 2005, p. 158). Such discourse signifies the challenges faced by Balinese vocal music in an ever-changing global domain. Globalization is not necessarily an ultimate hegemony that destroys local traditions, but actually can revive and revitalize the local spirit as a unique and distinct stance demarcating Balinese-ness in a borderless world. Based on the discussion above, a number of innovations relating to Tembang Bali can be identified as follow: New-Fangled Themes The thematic inspiration of traditional music stems from the appreciation of beauty, in particular nature. Nowadays, the themes are diverted to unearth critical discourse and moral messages relating to social unrest and injustice, environmental exploitation, democratization, and the realization of local wisdom as a challenge to hegemonic-culturally imperialist global issues. The themes being developed focus on diversity and democratization of a pluralistic reality. Musical Aspects The innovation relating to musicality in Tembang Bali is a deconstruction of structure (Norris, 2008: Piliang, 2018) that repositions structure to the point that musical form can be disassembled, rearranged. For example, the tripartite musical form called triangga ‘upright posture’ may be modified to become triangga sungsang ‘inverted posture’. The conventional flow of melodies is assembled by playfully arranging the motives and exploring tones outside a given mode called pemero. Exploring mode or patet by playing slendro tuning on instruments with pelog tuning. This method is employed to produce new-fangled modes. Since the 1990s, rhythmic structures also receive creative treatments, from being very symmetric to asymmetric and mathematically mechanic to develop a more complex and dynamic feeling. Figure 2. Taman Penasar of Denpasar during the 39th Bali Arts Festival, 2017. (Photo by the author) 168 INNOVATION OF TEMBANG BALI WITHIN AN EVER-CHANGING LOCAL-GLOBAL DOMAIN Furthermore, Tembang Bali employs pitch pairings or ‘harmony structures’ that are conventional following established karawitan systems (ngembat, ngempyung, nyintud, nelu, ngempat, ngumbang-ngisep). In recent times, the harmony exploration includes sruti or intervals, combination of sounds from two distinct gamelan characters or incorporating sounds from non-gamelan instruments. These innovations are performed to provide new flavours and creative challenges in Tembang Bali to maintain an engaging appreciation and consumption of Balinese vocal music. Innovation in terms of musicality includes: 1. New musical arrangements by reorganizing the existing musical structure by transforming traditional songs using new mediums of expression and new artistic arrangements. Novelty arrangement does not diminish traditional music. It must be utilized as a means to enrich the existing musical mosaic. This allows a parallel realm where traditional music continues to exist along its roots, while new music with its contemporary form, spirit and function will stream on a different path. 2. Departure from outdated concepts by providing new interpretations and significance. Tradition is a wealth of inspiration, and reengineering the potencies of tradition will escalate tremendous passion and approaches, which enables the art form to sustain itself in a new context. The concept of renewal with an emphasis on aesthetic-artistic freedom can alter the outdated image and stigma of traditional music within the constellation of diverse modern-contemporary music. 3. Exploring new techniques and soundscapes, for instance processing vocals from unisons to polyphony as well as conducting numerous experimentations on the combination of vocals and instruments. Exploring body sounds such as handclaps, foot stomping, clicks and hisses, and orally reproducing sounds of musical instruments (a cappella music) such as cak, genjek, cakepung, body tjak, and cak ganjur are also incorporated. Arya Sugiartha (2012, pp. 119-120) also states that composers have adapted the a cappella music style into Tembang Bali by combining various sounds as multi-layered voices. The latest multi-layered vocal composition can be heard as Cak Ganjur presented as a final exam by a student from the Performing Arts Faculty of ISI Denpasar on May 13, 2018 at Taman Ayun Temple in Mengwi Badung. In Cak Ganjur, the composer playfully employs vocals to reproduce the sounds of instruments and combine elements of Cak and Balaganjur in a dynamic manner that is further accentuated by body movements. The combination of body and vocal music, not only excites the ears but also indulges the eyes through an intense and vivid visual presentation. 4. Implementing new presentation plans that see significant and fantastic alterations of stage layout and decoration in taman penasar competitions. In the spirit of festivals and large-scale performances, staging and lighting are increasingly glamourous with elaborate decoration for the ensemble and stage properties. Costumes are designed to present the nuances of classical modern Bali. The arrangement of musical instruments follows respective functions, no one instrument is more important than the other. The concept of equality is promoted using balanced musical functions for all instruments. Summary The anomaly of Tembang Bali relates to a cognitive map by the younger generation that elevates celebrities and modern art ahead of their own artistic legacy. The powerful disruption of global culture through vast electronic media and information technology is viewed as a challenge in the development and progress of local cultures and traditional art forms including Tembang Bali. As a response, innovative measures and realizations are implemented such as promoting the revival mindset of Ajeg Bali, the utilization of electronic media (radio and television) and information technology, as well as the development and implementation of new-fangled themes for performances, competitions and festivals. Numerous innovations are performed to ensure the livelihood of Tembang Bali in this global era, especially by placing Tembang Bali as the focal point and main medium to unearth a local-global discourse, and to correlate the global phenomenon from a Balinese perspective. 169 I KOMANG SUDIRGA References Anom Kumbara, A. A. (2008). Ajeg Bali dalam arus pusaran globalisasi kritik epistimis. In Ardika D. K. (Ed.), Dinamika sosial masyarakat Bali. Denpasar: Fakultas Sastra Universitas Udayana. Ardhana, I. K. (2004). Kesadaran kolektif lokal dan identitas nasional dalam proses globalisasi. In Ardika and Dharma Putra (Eds.), Politik kebudayaan dan identitas etnik. Denpasar: Fakultas Sastra Unud and Balimangsi Press. Ardika, I. W. (2005). Strategi Bali mempertahankan kearifan lokal di era global. In Darma Putra & Windhu Sancaya (Eds.), Kompetensi budaya dalam globalisasi. Denpasar: Fakultas Sastra UNUD dan Pustaka Larasan. Barker, C. (2005). Culture studies: Teori dan praktik (6th Edition). Yogyakarta: Penerbit Bentang. Bawa Atmadja, I. N. (2010). Ajeg Bali: Gerakan identitas kultural, dan globalisasi. Yogyakarta: LKIS. Creese, H. (2009). Singing the text: On-air textual interpretation in Bali. In J. van der Putten & M. K. Cody (Eds.), Lost time and untold tales from the Malay world. Singapore: Nusa Press. Darma Putra, I. N. (1998). Kesenian Bali di panggung elektronik: Perbandingan acara apresiasi budaya RRI dan TVRI Denpasar. Mudra Jurnal Seni Budaya, Denpasar: UPT Penerbitan STSI Denpasar. Darma Putra, I. N. (2009). Kidung interaktif: Vocalising and interpreting traditional literature through electronic mass media in Bali. Indonesia and the Malay World, 37, 249-276. Geriya, I. W. (2008). Transformasi kebudayaan memasuki abad XXI. Surabaya: Paramitha. Pilliang, Y. A. & Jaelani, J. (2018). Teori budaya kontemporer: Penjelajahan tanda dan makna. Yogyakarta: Aurora. Norris, C. (2008). Membongkar teori dekonstruksi Jacques Derrida (Trans. Inyiak Ridwan Muzir). Yogyakarta: Ar-Ruzz Media. Ritzer, G. & Goodman D. J. (2008). Teori sosiologi: Dari teori sosiologi klasik sampai perkembangan mutakhir teori sosial postmodern. Yogyakarta: Kreasi Wacana. Sudirga, I. K. (2012). Kebangkitan pasantian dalam era globalisasi (Doctoral dissertation). Universitas Udayana, Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia. Sudirga, I. K. (2017). Inovasi dalam gamelan Bali. Paper presentation. 12th Graduation Ceremony. ISI Denpasar. Sugiartha, I. G. A. (2012). Kreativitas musik Bali garapan baru perspektif cultural studies. Denpasar: UPT Penerbitan ISI Denpasar. 170 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA MEGURU GENDING: I KETUT SUKARATA’S MUSICAL CONCEPT FOR PLAYING KENDANG TUNGGAL (SOLO DRUMMING)1 (Lightning Paper) I Gde Made Indra Sadguna2 Indonesian Arts Institute, Indonesia Meguru Gending, a Musical Concept for Playing the Balinese Kendang I Ketut Sukarata was born in Banjar Belaluan, Denpasar on April 12, 1954. He is the son of the late I Wayan Berata and Ni Made Sukri. His father, I Wayan Berata, is one of the most influential Balinese artists in the 20th century. His grandfather I Made Regog was a pioneer in Gamelan Gong Kebyar, especially in the southern part of Bali. He is a descendant from a family filled with talented musicians, all with prestigious reputations. Sukarata is a famous drummer with a unique style. Many musicians from all over Bali and abroad have studied drumming with him. The question of what makes Sukarata’s kendang style so distinctive has become a major discussion among Balinese scholars. Until now, people have tried to guess why it “tastes” like Sukarata, but without defining the musical and logical reasons. In this paper I am proposing a new musical concept called Meguru Gending—literally, “song as teacher in playing”—that explains the distinctive musical feel of Sukarata’s drumming. This musical concept can only be applied to drummers at a high professional level. In order to achieve that level, drummers must have good fundamental techniques such as being able to produce a proper drum sound and having a wide range of stock phrases. According to Bakan, “stock phrases are defined as standard idiomatic kendang patterns and short forms that can be employed in many different compositions” (1999, p. 287). Usually one of the indicators of a drummer’s expertise is the number of stock phrases they have. In this case, Sukarata has a tremendous number of stock phrases. Every drummer has their own vocabulary of stock phrases, but what makes Sukarata different is how he positions the precise pattern according to the song, a process which I refer to as meguru gending, or to make the song guide your patterns. According to Sukarata, in order to perform this concept, there are five elements that a drummer must possess. First, a drummer must have a wide range of stock phrases; second, an understanding of the tempo; third, a capability to identify musical structures; fourth, an understanding of the melody; and fifth, an understanding of the dance. The entire concept of meguru gending may seem very simple, but to understand the fundamental values of kendang takes years to develop. Analytical Investigations on the Pengecet Part of Kebyar Duduk To explain the Sukarata’s concept of meguru gending, I will analyse his drum patterns for the pengecet part of Kebyar Duduk. I chose this song because it is considered to have a refined character and requires a high quality of kendang tunggal. Before I analyse Sukarata’s drumming patterns, it is important to give an overview about the basic sounds on a Balinese drum. There are three basic or “main” sounds that can be produced on the kendang. The first sound produced on the right hand is called Cedit or Dit or Dag, which notated as “D”. The second sound produced on the right hand is called kuncung or cung which notated as “C”. The third sound is Keplak or Pak, which will be notated with “P”. There are also minor sounds called suara maya. These sounds are played softer than the basic sounds and are played between the basic sounds as transitional and fill-in sounds. There are five suara maya sounds, all sounds are notated using lowercase letters. The first one is called dit cenik “d”. The second sound is called tep or ketep notated as “t”. The third sound is produced on the left hand, which is called Kung notated “k”. The forth sound is called the keplak cenik “p”. The last sound is called Dit Kiwa notated “g”. These notations are based on my interpretations of the sound. Until present, there is not a fixed method to notate the drumming pattern, every musician has their own way to notate it. Each individual drum stroke is equivalent to a sixteenth note. The melody notes are played on each consecutive quarter note beat. To notate the melody, I use letters from the Penganggening Aksara Bali (Balinese Letters). It consists of five melodic symbols that represent the sounds of the gamelan. Besides the melodic symbols, I will use other symbols to represent the colotomic (time-marking) instruments which are the kajar, gong, kemong, and kempur. The symbols are summarized as follows: 171 I GDE MADE INDRA SADGUNA No. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. Symbol 3 4 5 7 1 + * ( ) . Explanation read as nding, closest to the pitch D read as ndong, closest to Eb read as ndeng, closest to F read as ndung, closest to A read as ndang, closest to Bb kempur strike kemong strike gong strike rest sign The parts of the transcription that are written in bold are patterns that are played loudly, and the patterns nonbold are played more softly. 1 2 3 4 5 6 3 PtPd 3 DP.D 1 tPtP 7 ..Ck 7 tPPP 5 PCkD 4 CP.D 4 .CkD 7 CktP 3 CP.D 3 tP.D 4 .CkD 3 tPtp 3 tPtp 1 tPCk 7 tPtp 7 tPtp 3 tPtp 1 PtP. 1 PtP. 3 tPCk 1 P.Ck 1 PtP. 1 PDPC 7 D.tP 4 D.Ck 1 D.Ck 7 .D.C 7 DP.D 7+ .DPC 5 tPtp 5 ..Ck 7 D.tP 5 k.P. 5 .CkD 5 .DPC 7 PCkC 1 ..Ck 3 tPCk 7 tP.. 3 .tPC 7+ .DPC 1 .tP. 7+ tPtP 1 ..Ck 1* ..tP 4 kD.t (1) tPtp I will explain how the meguru gending concept is applied. First of all, Sukarata shows a wide variety of stock phrases. On every single line, there is always a different pattern. Second, he understands that this song is to accompany the Kebyar Duduk dance which has a refined character (halus). Sukarata will control the tempo at the range of 120 bpm – 140 bpm. The third element is the understanding of structure, it also corresponds to the fourth element which is melody. The melody of this song is played on a high octave which refers to a more refined character. To make a certain pattern synchronize with the melody, the drummer must understand what sound makes a certain mood. In any music structure the amount of “P” will always be dominant because it functions as the bridge between the “D” and “C” sound. If a pattern has “D” sounds more often than “C” it would likely be played for a keras (stronger) character, but if there is almost a balance between “D” and “C,” or even more “C” then “D,” it will likely lead towards a halus (refined) character. If we add up every line per sound, it will have as result as follows. The total of “P” sound is 46, “C” sound is 25, and “D” sound is 21. The “P” sound is always dominant, and it is evident that this sound is mostly between “C” and “D” sounds. The “C” sound only occurs 4 strokes more often than the “D” sounds. This is not a significant difference. From the amount given, we can deduce that Sukarata is intending to make patterns to support a refined character. Sukarata always leads the music by giving dynamic changes ahead of the entire ensemble. Before the end of the 2nd line, Sukarata already plays softer as a signal for the other musicians to follow his lead. This change is done before the strike of the kempur. The second change we can notice is on the 4th line. Before the end of the line, Sukarata leads the group by playing louder before the strike of kemong. After he plays louder, it will be a sign for other musicians to follow his lead. The rest of the instruments will play louder or softer after he makes the changes from the drums. It is very interesting to analyse the 6th line where the gong is struck. The gong is the most powerful accent in the gamelan and Sukarata understands that clearly. In order to make the gong strike more powerful, he gives more stress on his patterns. The process is started from the 5th line. The 3rd and 4th line patterns are very different from the 5th and 6th line patterns. In 3rd and 4th there are more “C” sounds, which also takes into account that the song is played softer. But when the 5th line starts and the playing is louder, there is an 172 MEGURU GENDING: I KETUT SUKARATA’S MUSICAL CONCEPT FOR PLAYING KENDANG TUNGGAL (SOLO DRUMMING) increase of “D” sound. The three stroke repetition which is notated as “.DPC” also signifies a strong accent which is played towards the gong. The purpose of that is to make the approach of the gong more noticeable. The fifth element, which is an understanding of the dance, is usually applied in dances with a nonfixed choreography such as the Baris, Jauk, and Barong dances. While in the Kebyar Duduk dance, the choreography is more fixed, which means that this fifth element can be ignored. Conclusion The connection between the stock phrases, tempo played, structure understanding, and fitting the proper rhythmic patterns with the melody is the essence of the Meguru Gending concept. Sukarata knows how fast he wants the song to be played, and also recognizes the places to make the dynamic changes towards the kempur or kemong strikes. The patterns that are given leading towards the gong strikes are different from the softer ones, in order to support the strong accent and end point of one cycle. This is the basic and key musical concept if a drummer wishes to play the kendang tunggal in Balinese music well. Endnotes 1 Presented at the 5th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of South East Asia (PASEA) in Sabah, Malaysia on 21 July 2018. 2 I Gde Made Indra Sadguna is a lecturer at the Karawitan Department at Institut Seni Indonesia (ISI) Denpasar. References Bakan, M. (1999). Music of death and new creation: Experiences in the world of Balinese gamelan Beleganjur. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press. Sadguna, I Gde Made Indra. (2012). The kendang bebarongan in Balinese music: An organological study (Trans. I Gde Agus Jaya Sadguna). Denpasar: UPT Penerbitan ISI Denpasar. 173 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA GAMELAN GONG KEBYAR AS COMMUNICATION MEDIA BETWEEN BALINESE AND SASAK ETHNICITIES IN LOMBOK (Lightning Paper) I Gede Yudarta Indonesian Institute of the Arts, Indonesia Gamelan gong kebyar is both a genre and ensemble in Balinese society that developed rapidly over the course of the 20th century. Its existence not only developed in Bali but also in several areas of Indonesia and even in numerous countries in the world. It serves as a communication media among ethnic groups in Indonesia, and also among nations that embrace cultural exchange. In this way, the gamelan gong kebyar has experienced relatively rapid growth even on the neighbouring island of Lombok. On this island, gamelan gong kebyar is owned and played by a diasporic Balinese society as well as Sasaks. This article observes that the recent surge of interest in gamelan gong kebyar in Lombok makes both a social and cultural impact. The social impact can be observed where gamelan gong kebyar serves the interests of each ethnicity as a liaison media allowing neutral ground for social interaction between ethnicities. This facilitates an intense affiliation that enables a communicative relationship between the Balinese and Sasak. While the cultural impact that arises is the emergence creative and artistic variations from performance artists reflect the identity of each ethnicity, it simultaneously is a collaboration between them. Background Kakebyaran art is one of the cultural works of the Balinese society in the field of music. It has not only developed and been popularized in Bali but has also developed in various areas in Indonesia. One of the locations or places of development under purview in this article is Lombok Island. The development of kakebyaran art in the area of Lombok Island originally began in 1923 when a group of artists came from Paketan Village, Singaraja held performances in Karang Jangu, Cakranegara in order to perform for a life cycle ritual ceremony called manusa yadnya. The host of the ceremony was very interested in the gamelan gong kebyar, and eventually purchased the gamelan brought from Paketan Village. This became the first gamelan gong kebyar in Lombok. The existence of kakebyaran art in Lombok has its uniqueness where it is not only played by Balinese but also played by Sasak performing artists. This phenomenon is remarkable when considering Sasak Muslims are obedient to the teachings of the religion. It is noteworthy because Muslims participate actively in playing kakebyaran music which is associated with the culture created by the people of Bali. In the midst of problems and conflicts that may occur between multiple ethnicities and religious followers who occupy the same geographic space, the phenomenon that occurred in Lombok is telling evidences that the arts, especially traditional music, have become an important bridging media of culture. It is a medium to establish communication, cooperation, and tolerance between divergent groups in an effort to create harmony between people. As Media Communication and Interaction The use of gamelan gong kebyar in the cultural activities of Balinese and Sasak in Lombok became one of the causes of interaction and communication between these two ethnic groups. Jean Paule says communication is a transmission of information and transmission of understanding that use shared symbols (Liliweri, 2002, p. 7). If referring to that concept, communication within the cultural context also has a sense of the same linkage of information and understanding when there are two ethnicities with different cultural backgrounds using the same symbols. When these cultural symbols are used together, it is possible to interact or even have interaction happen between different ethnic groups. In Lombok, there are similar cultural elements between Balinese culture and Sasak society. One of them is the similarity in artistic life especially in playing kakebyaran. As a Balinese cultural products expressed in a diasporic community, in its spreading in Lombok, gong kebyar gamelan is not only used by the Balinese but also played by the Sasak people. Gong kebyar gamelan is used as one of the media in the cultural activities of the Sasak community and widely used in various types of Sasak arts such as dance 174 GAMELAN GONG KEBYAR AS COMMUNICATION MEDIA BETWEEN BALINESE AND SASAK ETHNICITIES IN LOMBOK accompaniment, dance drama and as a new medium of creativity among Sasak artists. The use of kakebyaran by both ethnic Balinese and Sasak signifies the use of the same symbol in two related cultural activities. The togetherness of ethnic Sasak playing gong kebyar orchestra and kakebyaran music is reflected in the ceremony held at Lingsar Temple, West Lombok. As this tradition has been inherited since the reign of the Kingdom of Karangasem (Bali) in Lombok, Lingsar Temple is a sacred place that is jointly shared between the Sasak ethnic community and ethnic Balinese. In addition, there is Gaduh Temple which is a place of worship for Hindus. There is also a place of worship for the Sasak ethnic community called Kemaliq, which is an integral part of the structure of the temple building as a whole. As a sacred place that is shared together, the execution of various types of ceremonial processions and rituals is always carried out simultaneously. In the execution of ceremonial ritual processions at Lingsar Temple, the presentation of traditional music is mandatory. Various types of traditional Balinese and Sasak musical instruments are played which are related to the procession being carried out. Among the Sasak, there is one of group called Seka Gong Mekar Jaya, from Montor village of the Narmada sub-district which has always played and accompanied the ceremonial procession at Lingsar Temple. For the people of Montor village, especially among artists, accompanying the ceremonial procession in Lingsar Temple is an inherited obligation carried out for generations. In carrying out these obligations there is often communication and interaction with Balinese artists who also play traditional musical instruments. In the Sasak group there are often artists from Balinese ethnic groups who help to play some repertoire. Both ethnic groups can interact because the repertoire played is kakebyaran music that has become very popular and well known between them. Intense communication and interaction between these two ethnic groups indicates that the art of kakebyaran becomes a very important media in helping to establish more harmonious relations between ethnic groups. In a broader perspective, shared performative culture contributes to connecting people in tangible and meaningful ways. Social Impact Since the 1960s, the Sasak ethnic community has been interested in the art of kakebyaran. The government in power in the era of the 1960s often used gong kebyar gamelan and kakebyaran music and dances to entertain official guests and invitations who visited the region. With the use of kakebyaran, this indicates that the art gets a very high appreciation from the government. As noted in the book West Nusa Tenggara Regional Monograph II (1977), in 1963 the West Lombok Culture Office carried out on mass Balinese dance rehearsals. From this program, kakebyaran dances became more popular among elementary school (SD) and junior high school (SLTP) children in the regions of Cakra, Mataram and Ampenan. This 1960s program made kakebyaran art more widespread among the Sasak community. Various activities related to Sasak traditional ceremony were regularly presented using kakebyaran. It is assumed that presenting the art of kakebyaran in Sasak traditional ceremony activities raised the degree of the ceremony held. The high social and economic value of gamelan gong kebyar among the Sasak ethnic community saw many ethnic Balinese buy gong kebyar instruments to form gamelan groups as well. Some of these groups or sekaa have been around since the 1960s. In the city of Mataram, there was once a very famous group called “Seka Gong Lalu Bayaq.” This sekaa was pioneered by a Sasak nobleman named Lalu Bayaq. To manifest this group, the nobleman invited several artists who were mostly selected artists from the Balinese community to join in the sekaa he founded. This group was well known for its presentation of works by I Wayan Berata’s compositional works for gamelan (Palguna Warsa, Kosala Arini, Purwa Pascima, Swabhuana Paksa, Gesuri) so that these works seemed to be the hallmark of this sekaa. Besides Lalu Bayaq many groups today have members or artists of Sasak ethnicity such as the Mekar Jaya group from Dasan Montor village in Narmada sub-district and Mekar Budaya of Bongor village, Gerung District which is currently the leading group within the ethnic Sasak circle. Their technical abilities are not inferior to Balinese artists. Similarly, the Mekar Jaya group has a large kakebyaran repertoire in the form of extended instrumental compositions called lelambatan, new creations and various types of dance accompaniment. The emergence of gamelan groups among the Sasak ethnic community further strengthens the relationship between the Sasak ethnic community and ethnic Balinese. To improve the performance or presentation, several groups often invite Balinese artists to provide training. Sometimes a sense of togetherness is created when Sasak and Balinese perform in the same ensemble. Borrowing each other’s 175 I GEDE YUDARTA musicians or artists between both ethnic groups is something very common. The occurrence of intense communication and interaction in artistic activities especially in playing kakebyaran gives a very positive social impact on harmonization of relations between these two ethnic groups. Cultural Impact The existence of kakebyaran among the Sasak ethnic community contributes to the excavation, preservation and development of Sasak arts. Gandrung art that had experienced a period of decline and almost became extinct was successfully reconstructed in 1990. Similarly, the Cupak Gerantang dance drama which became rare, until now can still be presented in the midst of society. The success of maintaining art forms is closely related to the flexibility of kakebyaran. By using the gong kebyar gamelan, the Gandrung dance and Cupak Gerantang dance drama have been successfully maintained. Even the Gandrung Dance is currently an icon of Sasak dance. In addition to playing a major role in the excavation and preservation of Sasak arts, the existence of gong kebyar gamelan is also a medium of artistic creativity among artists in Lombok. Collaborations between gong kebyar gamelan with vocal music have given birth to several works such as Gugur Mayang, Kidung Dalem, Pemban Seleparang, and some vocal music which is commonly known as Pasasakan songs that are very popular. In the field of dance arts, the results of creativity appear in several dances such as: Kembang Sembah Dance, Bala Anjani Dance, Briuk Tinjal Dance, Dare Ngindang Dance, Gagak Mandiq Dance among others. Figure 1. Kembang Sembah Dance. (Photo by I Gede Yudarta) Of the above phenomenon, a very important observation is the emergence of new variants of kakebyaran music as David Harnish (2005) says: Lombok Balinese music styles can be seen as being one of three types: 1) those with antecedents in Bali, 2) those with antecedents from the Sasak majority of Lombok and 3) those co-created with the Sasak. The first type comprises the majority of traditions, including the most popular gamelan in both Bali and Lombok, the gamelan gong kebyar. Gong kebyar exploded on the artistic scene in Bali in the 1920s and 1930s; it had a similar impact in Lombok during the 1950s. This form has linked Lombok Balinese to Bali and inspired people to greater artistic involvement on both islands. The vast majority of 20th-century dance and theatre innovations employs gong kebyar and form part of the kebyar movement. (p. 10) The statement provides an overview of the existence of gong kebyar gamelan and kakebyaran style that has existed in Lombok and is one style of kakebyaran besides the style of North Bali and South Bali style. This style is a cultural configuration of the local culture of Sasak with immigrant culture (Bali) which is thoroughly assimilated and forms a new style. Pasasakan style emerged from the adoption and processing of form and musicality so that it gave birth to kebyar musicality nuanced by Sasak culture. 176 GAMELAN GONG KEBYAR AS COMMUNICATION MEDIA BETWEEN BALINESE AND SASAK ETHNICITIES IN LOMBOK Kakebyaran Nuanced Sasak Music The two cultural communications between ethnic Sasak and Balinese also gave birth to a new creativity in Sasak music. The immense popularity of kakebyaran music among the Sasak community raised a strong desire to be able to present the repertoire. One of the creative efforts is to play kebyar music using traditional Sasak musical instruments which distinguishes it from its Balinese predecessors. Creativity increasingly evidences kebyar music flexibility. Kakebyaran music not only can be played using gong kebyar gamelan but can also be played with other instruments. Some of the songs in the form of instrumental music and dance accompaniment have been transferred to Sasak musical instruments such as Klentang and Rebana Gending. Figure 2. The Gamelan Klentang. (Photo by I Gede Yudarta) Conclusion After observing the above case study, it can be concluded that kakebyaran is a cultural work of Balinese society but has an important role in connecting two ethnic groups namely Sasak and ethnic Balinese in Lombok. This flexible and adaptive art form contributes greatly to the development of harmonious communication and interaction amidst the inter-ethnic differences and feuds that often arise today. In addition, the existence of kakebyaran music in Lombok makes an impact both socially and culturally because ethnic Sasak gong kebyar gamelan has become a prestigious icon for Sasak ritual ceremonies lifting the prestige of the ritual. The art of kakebyaran has become social capital in raising the distinction, prestige and dignity of artists. The cultural impact sees the existence of kakebyaran utilized in the excavation, preservation and cultural development of Sasak culture as instrumental to strengthening traditional Sasak arts. References Dibia, I. W. (Ed.). (2008). Seni Kakebyaran. Denpasar: Bali Mangsi. Harnish, D. D. (2005a). Defining ethnicity, (re)constructing culture: Processes of musical adaptation and innovation among the Balinese of Lombok. Journal of Musicological Research. 24(3-4), 265-286. Harnish, D. D. (2005b). “Isn’t this nice? It’s just like being in Bali’’: Constructing Balinese music culture in Lombok. Ethnomusicology Forum, 14(1), 3-24. Liliweri, A. (2003). Dasar-dasar komunikasi antar cudaya. Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar. Liliweri, A. (2005). Prasangka dan konflik, komunikasi lintas budaya masyarakat multikultur. Yogyakarta: LkiS. Liliweri, A. (2007). Makna budaya dalam komunikasi antar budaya. Yogyakarta: LkiS. Suprapto. (2013). Semerbak dupa di Pulau Seribu Masjid: Kontestasi, integrasi dan resolusi konflik HinduMuslim. Jakarta: Kencana Prenadamedia Group. Wacana, L. D. (1977/1978). Sejarah daerah Nusa Tenggara Barat. Proyek Penelitian Dan Pencatatan Kebudayaan Daerah, Departemen Pendidikan Dan Kebudayaan. Yaningsih, S. (1988). Peralatan hiburan dan kesenian tradisional daerah Nusa Tenggara Barat. Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan. 177 I GEDE YUDARTA Yaningsih, S. (1991/1992). Deskripsi tari gendang Beleq, Daerah Nusa Tenggara Barat. Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan, Kantor Wilayah Provinsi Nusa Tenggara Barat. Proyek Pembinaan Kesenian NTB. Yudarta, I. G. & Ardini, N. W. (2010). Potensi seni pertunjukan Bali sebagai penunjang industri pariwisata di Lombok Barat. Hasil Penelitian Hibah Bersaing. Fakultas Seni Pertunjukan, Institut Seni Indonesia Denpasar. Yudarta, I. G. & Ardini. N. W. (2011). Potensi seni pertunjukan Bali sebagai penunjang industri pariwisata di Kota Mataram, Nusa Tenggara Barat. Hasil Penelitian Hibah Bersaing. Fakultas Seni Pertunjukan, Institut Seni Indonesia Denpasar. Yudarta, I. G. (2013). Eksistensi seni kakebyaran dalam kehidupan masyarakat di Kota Mataram, Nusa Tenggara Barat Hasil Penelitian Hibah Disertasi Doktor. Dibiayai oleh: DIPA Institut Seni Indonesia Denpasar. Nomor Surat Perjanjian Penugasan Pelaksanaan Penelitian No. 19/IT5.3/PG/2013 Tanggal 6 Mei 2013. Yudarta, I. G. (2016). Reproduksi seni kakebyaran di Kota Mataram, Nusa Tenggara Barat (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). Universitas Udayana, Indonesia. 178 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ANSWERING QUESTIONS, QUESTIONING ANSWERS: INTELLECTUALITY IN THE CREATIVE PROCESS OF BALINESE GAMELAN COMPOSITION I Wayan Sudirana Indonesian Arts Institute, Indonesia Introduction Change is a constant universal that spreads across all of the world’s cultures. In accordance with modernization, situational change in culture is developing, reflecting new mindsets influenced by new knowledge. In Balinese traditions, changes are mostly oriented toward desa (place), kala (time), and patra (situations). For the Balinese, to think about desa, kala, and patra in relation to a given activity means to select the appropriate place, time, and situation to do so (Sudirana, 2013, p. 26). It is a Balinese value system and island-wide approach to regulating behaviour. Traditionally, changes in music are always associated with ritual needs, with the basic foundation of the desa, kala, patra concept. Musicians are given the “freedom” in musical innovations, but at the same time are framed within desa, kala, patra. A wide range of musical changes happen in Balinese cross-musical genres that are oriented toward the desa, kala, patra concept. This paper will focus on the imagination of the future of New Music for Gamelan in Bali, and to further address some of the problems that arise in developments of Balinese music. Local wisdom becomes the foundation and the assimilation of global culture. It allows musicians to innovate and develop without leaving their identity and desa, kala, patra. Balinese composers are not only accepting, recreating, and changing established traditional or older musics and ideas, but are now developing deeper, more intellectual methods of composition, expanding possibility, and individual creativity to new levels. Older music is part of a new musical construction tailored to the way composers create their works. The music that exists now is a detailed connectedness, which may be against, continuing, or passing through each other, allowing the creative process to continue developing to a deeper level of detail. “Imaginasi” and “Nalar” In 2012, senior composer Slamet Abdul Syukur made an analogy about the process of creativity in music: Kalau menunggu perintah otak, dalam silat, kita akan kehilangan momentum atau terpukul duluan. Pasukan pemadam kebakaran harus bergerak cepat tanpa nunggu perintah. Demikian juga tukang copet. Mereka harus tak ragu ketika menemukan saat yang tepat untuk bertindak. (Syukur, 2012) If you wait for the command from your brain, in martial arts, you will lose the momentum or be hit first. Firefighters must move quickly without waiting for orders. It is a similar situation for the pickpocketer. They should not hesitate when finding the right moment to act. (Syukur, 2012) The process of creation starts from an intention to create, all the way through to the completion of the work. Syukur reminds us to quickly respond to all forms of imagination that comes into our minds. Imaginings and inspirations cannot be planned or designed. They come suddenly. This is the case with composers. Composers need to be ready to process their imaginings into concrete musical forms using their experiences and technical skills. No matter how big the imaginings are if the mind does not have a sufficient ability to process them, no concrete musical ideas will be established. The ability to process imaginings and inspirations into some patterned musical language needs nalar, a logical reasoning of the composer: nalar shapes imaginings of the unconscious mind into the concrete forms of musical ideas. As Wayan Gede Yudane said, “Imaginings will not be able to form concrete musical ideas. We need “nalar” or intellectuality, which leads to the process of realizing all forms of imaginations or inspirations” (personal communication, July 12, 2018). “Nalar” for Yudane, is the knowledge he has earned from developing his critical thinking, research and experiences in life. Knowledge is important in realizing and organizing ideas imparted into the unconscious mind. Imagination also plays an important role in the creative process. Albert Einstein quoted (1929), “Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution.” This quote is precious and most people 179 WAYAN SUDIRANA would agree with it. While we are nothing without knowledge, imagination is the source from which new knowledge springs. Imagination is a waste if it is not transformed into something useful. It is like unlocking hidden doors in which inventions lay behind. Both play important roles in the human creative processes. Graham Wallas (1926) states that there are four stages of creative processes: preparation, incubation, illumination, and verification. These stages became popular among Balinese academic composers in expressing their creative processes on paper. They convey close cooperation between the conscious or rational/logical/analytical thinking brain (preparation and verification), and the subconscious or intuitive/imaginative thinking brain (incubation and illumination). Erie Setiawan states that intuitive thinking plays a prominent role in solving problems of composing music, not inferior to rational thinking. Intuition is responsible for 50-70 % of the creation method, while logical and cognitive considerations occupy the rest. In composing music, determining the proportion and the character of the work is far more important than just thinking systematically (2015, pp. 39-43). Thinking systematically is standard instruction or compositional technique, and intuition is the source of ideas of all compositional techniques. As Suka Hardjana explains, Musik bermutu hanya bisa lahir dari bakat, kecerdasan, dan kerja keras. Sebab kita tahu bahwa ilham atau inspirasi hannyalah sepercik embun yang menetesi bakat. Itu bukan segala-galanya. Intuisi, naluri-naluri dalam, perasaann hanyalah determinan yang melengkapi kecerdasan. (2003, p. 89) Great music can only be born out of talent, intelligence, and hard work. We know that inspiration is only a sprinkling of dew that spills on talent. That is not everything. Intuition, inner instinct and feeling is merely a determinant of intelligence. (2003, p. 89) Accessing both intuitive and rational (analytical) thinking in the creative process of composing is inevitable. Imagination and intellect always interact together in the musical experience, just as aesthetic considerations (intuition) are always intertwined with artistic (knowledge). Answering Questions, Questioning Answers: Composers’ Method Traditionally in Bali the compositional process in music was more intuitive than conceptual. The re-creation of beauty in nature through musical expression and melodic ideas was [and still is] enough for many to form a musical repertoire. As a renowned senior composer, Nyoman Windha argued that almost all of his works are based on intuitive exploration of the beauty of nature and the process of intuitively imagining melody and rhythm, Proses penciptaan biasanya diawali dengan perenungan (berimaginasi) sesuai tema (biasanya tema keindahan alam). Hal ini bisa terjadi di awal penciptaan atau pada saat karya itu terwujud. Saya biasanya langsung memikirkan musiknya dengan atau tanpa tema. Jadi semuanya dari hasil perenungan. (personal communication, July 14,2018) The process usually begins with contemplation (imagining) in accordance to the selected theme (usually natural beauty). These (imaginings) can happen at the beginning or when the work is realized. I usually write the music with or without initial themes. Everything is a result of contemplation. (personal communication, July 14,2018) One of his works entitled “Wahyu Giri Suara”, the first piece he composed for a gong kebyar competition, is claimed to be inspired by the abstract “celestial sound of the great mountain,” with the exploration of new musical ideas at the time. Windha explains that wahyu means revelation or inspiration (also the name of his first-born child), giri means mountain, and suara means sound. According to Windha, with the intention to create new musical ideas, ironically, he started writing the music without clear musical concepts in mind. He followed the “flow” while writing the music, depending on his experiences and direction of the beauty of nature perceived by his mind (personal communication, July 16, 2018). The source of his musical ideas is intuitive thinking. When investigating the conceptual process of transforming his intuitive thinking into the concrete form of musical ideas, Windha faced difficulties in expressing his concepts or analytical thoughts. His form may be perceived as naïve, straightforward, or simplistic expressions in comparison to newer styles of Balinese musical composition. 180 ANSWERING QUESTIONS, QUESTIONING ANSWERS: INTELLECTUALITY IN THE CREATIVE PROCESS OF BALINESE GAMELAN COMPOSITION For many contemporary Balinese composers, dissatisfaction with what has been obtained from the past and the need for change and new ideas is a reflection of the developmental process in the culture. When questioned about how to compose, senior musicians typically respond, “It has always been that way” or “by seeking inspiration in nature.” But young composers are no longer content with these responses and are questioning these answers. When questioning conceptual processes, that of music making, the image of the composer, is often intellectual and spiritual. However, Yudane states that those who wish to become composers must be aware that the composers are “the condemned”—those doomed to an endless search throughout life; innovation is relentless (personal communication, July 12, 2018). Most Balinese composers voiced ‘innovation’ in composing new music. Innovation is usually linked to creativity and intellectuality. These two closely depend on how composers translate their intuitive thinking into concrete works—Setiawan states that compositional works are actually intuitive works (2015, p. 45). Windha’s compositional processes also involves intuition, although he was consciously unable to break down his steps in composing. Balinese traditional composers usually have a passive knowledge. It can be argued that the combination of intuitive (spiritual) and cognitive (intellectual) thinking underlies the compositional processes of Balinese traditional composers. Hardjanna said that composers have confidence in their character, are mysterious, as well as full of curiosity and surprises. This leads them to always focus on subjectivity, uniqueness, and breakthrough—the important trilogy to measure the composers’ personal responsibility (Setiawan, 2015, p. 47). Subjectivity is a reasoning within the composers’ mind, which absorbs all experiences and knowledge. From here, ideas are melted down to a concrete form of work by referring to uniqueness and breakthrough as the primary intention. Uniqueness is a quality of the composers’ own identity, while breakthrough [in composing] is the innovation. Composing new music for gamelan for most Balinese contemporary composers requires subjectivity, uniqueness, and innovation. Moreover, technical skills, taste, and inspiration also play an important role in realizing unique and innovative works. In other words, composers must formerly master the technical skills and optimize their musical senses, equipped with imagination, before being able to seamlessly perform compositional mechanisms. Komponis Kini In order to achieve the above-mentioned trilogy, Balinese contemporary composers are inquiring into the answers (compositional theory) they acquired from their seniors: young composers are more critical of the answers (theory) they learnt from elders or schools. One of the well-known traditional texts entitled prakempa is becoming an authoritative source of [compositional] theory and required conservatory (institutional) text. Prakempa maps the tones of Balinese scale systems (pelog and selendro) into the pengider bhuana (the concept of the revolving world or nine directions of the universe). Explanations in prakempa tend to be abstract and are beyond human reasoning. As Andrew McGraw explains, The prakempa revels in mystical taxonomy without ever explicating the exact relation between theory and practice. Music is presented as an aspect of the divine or an expression of its agency; gods express unique aesthetic preferences and are associated with specific ensembles and tunings. Syllables associated with pitches are imagined to be intrinsically rather than arbitrarily related to their meanings. (2013, p. 116). Young composers are [privately] questioning the nature of the text. They do not understand when professors direct them to use prakempa as a compositional tool. For young composers, the theory elucidated in prakempa is irrelevant to their practical experiences in gamelan. As they were not satisfied with the responses they received, contemporary composers continuously explore their identity (uniqueness) and innovations. With the belief that identity is innate and is constructed, and with modern technology providing easy access to information, they are exposed to the wide range of world musical cultures and, directly or indirectly, form their own understanding of compositional methodology. These composers want to be a “true composer,” a composer who dares to face challenges, and seek for identity and innovations, as opposed to the penata tabuh or music arranger associated with kebyar and tradisi forms (McGraw, 2013, p. 125). In 2016, a new movement entitled Komponis Kini emerged in the Balinese compositional scene, held in Bentara Budaya Bali (Kompas Gramedia Cultural Institution).1 This movement was conceived as an attempt to reform, giving new formats and meaning [or re-interpretation] of classical and/or existing music, 181 WAYAN SUDIRANA as well as forming music creations that are [entirely] new. This event is open to young composers to pour out their thoughts in composition. Together with the curators I Wayan Gede Yudane, Dewa Alit, and I Wayan Sudirana, this event became the only music event that focused entirely on the musik baru untuk gamelan (new music for gamelan) movement in Bali. Komponis Kini is a planned and sustainable educational event and also a “contest arena” of new ideas for young composers. This planned and sustained effort is intended to not only provide enlightenment, but also to share appreciation for the community to celebrate new art forms with high quality artistic achievements. Komponis Kini is also an arena for new gamelan composers to express their latest achievements that reflect the authenticity of their creative journey. In addition to musical performances, the event will also be enriched with a post-performance dialogue with the composers; as an educational and creation accountability session of the music performed. Journey Syukur’s analogy reflects a clear and systematical methodology in any given situation. In any case, composers have to be ready to put down ideas and systematically transform them. Putu Adi Septa Suweca Putra (ala Kuprit), a young multi-talented musician and composer explained, “ide-ide bisa saja datang secara tidak terduga, kapan saja, dan dimana saja.” (ideas come in unexpected ways, anytime, and anywhere) (personal communication, July 12, 2018). These ideas, for Kuprit, come in abstract form. He then compiles and assimilates them into more concrete forms of musical elements. Experiences as a music appreciator, and knowledge and understanding of other musical culture (or composers) methods are the key to success. Discovering uniqueness and innovation in creating melodies, rhythms, harmony, elaborations, etc. depend on, and are limited to the composers’ own nalar. From here, new musical creations for gamelan generate their own authenticity: subjectivity, uniqueness, and breakthrough. One of the pieces premiered at the Komponis Kini event was entitled “Journey,” a new form of music for gamelan composed by Wayan Gede Yudane.2 Yudane introduced the concept of a new gamelan orchestra with a truly new achievement; utilizing the space of silence, and breathing in rhythm with the music to create musical union. Thus for Yudane, the Balinese gamelan succeeds in becoming an art form that continues to live and breathe with the 21st century. Yudane’s works are the result of creatively exploring a wide range of new musical creations to enrich the possibility of gamelan music, and reflect the courage of the creator to address something that has been standardized and traditionalized, in order to give birth to original (authentic) work. According to Yudane, he makes comparisons with Morton Feldman's music and/or the gamelan tradition of Central Javanese gamelan, with the soft and very slow melodies revealed in the first part of this piece. The concept utilizes elasticity; stretching time, tempo, and sonority (personal communication, July 12, 2018). Responding to the waves/vibrato of ngumbang-ngisep concept (the higher and lower frequencies of paired pitches) in Semarandana gamelan, he creates a meditation space where the pitch organization of the melody is connected in the mind of the listener. The first part of the piece is marked at various points with a soft beat on jegogan (the bass metallophone). He also added floating tones and a flute that created the aural ‘halo’ (the sense of a ‘halo’), while kantilan and pemade (the metallophone) added elements of nervous squeaks and suggestive tremolo. He feels that these subversive sounds are meant to prevent the work from becoming too flashy or “precious.” Yudane works systematically in organizing musical elements used in his piece. The selection of pitches, tempo, and rhythm is thoughtfully organized, and in accordance with the idea planned from the beginning; the intentions of melodic movements are fit to the specified theme. This is the result of Yudane’s subjectivity in composing. The uniqueness of Yudane's compositions lies in the new form and structure of the piece, the unusual rhythmic and melodic patterns of gamelan Semarandana instruments, and the new function given to the standardized roles of each instrument within the ensemble. Moreover, we are discussing a compositional method in an oral tradition, where music is [traditionally] passed down without the use of musical notation. The aural experience of performance interaction and groove is paramount. However, Yudane’s breakthrough lies in the combination of the use of complete Western notation in writing his music (as well as teaching the music) and the synchronization of bodies and groove in new kinds of interaction, resulting from the use of musical notation. This is a key achievement of such art music. “Journey” is a piece that ‘includes’ listeners beyond their expectation, and it breaks new territory with innovation and passion. Often this kind of music introduces new techniques for traditional instruments 182 ANSWERING QUESTIONS, QUESTIONING ANSWERS: INTELLECTUALITY IN THE CREATIVE PROCESS OF BALINESE GAMELAN COMPOSITION as well as presenting traditional instruments in new ways. This music challenges the traditional foundations of melody, harmony, rhythm, texture, structure, dynamics, notation, timbre, length, size, and form that perfectly stand-alone. Concluding Thoughts In the creation process of finding musical innovations, Balinese composers are overshadowed by a strong institutional intimidation with regards to the continuation of Balinese gamelan traditions. For many years, Balinese gamelan scholars have always placed traditions against innovations. Old gamelan pieces have to be preserved, and new innovative works were (are) labeled merusak tradisi (“destroying tradition”). Fearfulness of losing tradition is the main cause of this situation. Understanding the meaning of “tradition” in this situation is paramount. Murgiyanto states “sesuatu yang diwariskan tidak berarti harus diterima, dihargai, diasimilasi atau disimpan sampai mati” (something that is inherited does not mean that it must be accepted, appreciated, assimilated or kept to death) (2004, p. 2). The people who accept the inherited activities/material objects/beliefs/societies/phenomenon do not see them as inherited “tradition.” The accepted “traditions” are part of the people’s daily life. They have been maintained until now and have the same position as new innovations. With this understanding, tradition should not be placed against innovation (Singer, 1972; Wagner, 1975; Kealiinohomoku, 1979; Shils, 1981). Tradition is changing and is developing, and it has to be placed in parallel to the innovation. Musical innovations in Balinese gamelan, especially by Balinese composers like Yudane, involve an intimate cooperation between the accepted (ongoing) traditions of compositional methods and a new flourishing/innovative compositional method. Both require “imagination” and “intuition” as an initial compositional process. The difference is whether the imagination and intuition are actively or passively understood by the composers. Yudane introduces two terminologies in addressing new compositional method: “productive imagination” and “intellectual intuition.” Yudane said that “intuition is the presentation of imagination, and the development of the concept of ‘productive imagination’ to explain the actual art creation. Whereas ‘intellectual intuition’ is an object of reason that can be accounted for and not human cognition” (personal communication, August 12, 2018). By transforming this transcendental concept into cognitive exploitation and explaining all cognition experience, therefore, the role of the productive imagination lies in the artistic creation of new artworks, and the role of intellectual intuition, as productive imagination, lies in the scientific discovery of the new scientific hypothesis. In the pragmatic epistemology, artists use their productive imagination differently to build various ways of representing reality. Endnotes 1 Bentara Budaya is a cultural institution of Kompas Gramedia, which means cultural messenger. As cultural envoys, Bentara Budaya accommodates and represents the nation's cultural rides, from various backgrounds, and horizons, which may be different. The Hall seeks to display cultural forms and works that may have traditionally been created or the art forms of mass ever popular and populist. Also new works that seem to have no place and do not deserve to appear in a respectable building. Bentara Budaya serve as a meeting point between existing aspirations and growing aspirations. 2 Composer I Wayan Gede Yudane has garnered a reputation for his breathtakingly diverse music, cutting across Balinese gamelan, western string ensembles, electro-acoustic performances, choir, film, art installation and theatre. He has created pieces for ensembles as diverse as: The New Zealand Trio; New Zealand Strinng Quartet; Australian Art Orchestra and ‘Theft of Sita’; gamelan ensemble such as Gamelan Wrdhi Swaram and many more. His composition embraces and open exploration of new ideas, crossing musical and cultural boundaries and referencing both Eastern and Western traditions. In his compositions, often characterized as fast moving, sweeping soundscapes, he continually experiments and explores creative processes of new music. References Hardjana, S. (2003) Corat-coret musik kontemporer dulu dan kini. Jakarta: MSPI. McGraw, A. C. (2013). Radical traditions reimagining culture in Balinese contemporary music. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. 183 WAYAN SUDIRANA Murgiyanto, S. (2004). Tradisi dan inovasi beberapa masalah tari di Indonesia. Jakarta: Wedatama Widya Sastra. Setiawan, E. (2015). Serba-serbi intuisi musikal dan yang alamiah dari peristiwa musik. Yogyakarta: Art Music Today. Sudirana, I. W. (2013). Gamelan gong luang: Ritual, time, place, music, and change in a Balinese sacred ensemble (Doctoral dissertation). University of British Columbia, Canada. Syukur, S. A. (2012). Virus setan. Yogyakarta: Art Music Today. Viereck, G. S. (1929, October 26). What life means to Einstein: An interview by George Sylvester Viereck. The Saturday Evening Post. Wallas, G. (1926). The art of thought. New York, NY: Harcourt, Brace, and Company. 184 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA BORDER CROSSING OF POPULAR PERFORMANCE GENRES AND THE SEARCH FOR IDENTITY: A CASE STUDY ON INDONESIAN DANCE PERFORMANCE (Lightning Paper) Madoka Fukuoka Osaka University, Japan Introduction: Considering Identity The purpose of this study is to consider the relationship between the practice of popular performance genres and the artist’s searching for identity in society through the case study of an Indonesian female-impersonator dancer Didik Nini Thowok. As a researcher of cultural studies Stuart Hall defined identity as, “the result of a successful articulation or ‘chaining’ of the subject into the flow of the discourse” (Hall, 1996, pp. 5-6). The characteristic of this definition is the focus on the constant process of reconciliation with discourse. Anthropologist Ariel Heryanto pointed out the multiplicity and fluidness of identity in his study on Indonesian popular culture (Heryanto, 2008). Following these studies, identity in this study is not only considered as the explicit matters such as someone’s birth, current affiliation or the appearance of the body. Rather, it also concerns the artists’ constant endeavour to interconnect or negotiate their artistic practice with various kinds of values and social discourses. In this study, the multiplicity and the changing dimension of the identity are also considered. The Artist The artist Didik Nini Thowok is an Indonesian female-impersonator dancer based in Yogyakarta on the island of Java, Indonesia. In Yogyakarta, Didik is famous for his original creative activities that are based on the revitalization of the transgender dance tradition. He is a unique dancer known for his original comical works and plays, especially his performances on television programs since the 1980s.1 Didik was born in 1954 in Central Java to a Chinese father and a Javanese mother. In the 1960s, Indonesians of Chinese descent began to experience many difficulties in Indonesia because of the government’s so-called assimilation policy, and for more than 30 years severe restrictions were placed on their cultural expressions. Didik’s artistic expression of female-impersonation has a close relationship with his expression as a Chinese Indonesian artist. Female-Impersonation Although Didik’s artistic activities are widely accepted in Indonesian society, there is criticism and negative perceptions about him. The artistic practice of female-impersonation is a Javanese performing art tradition. Anthropologist James Peacock pointed out in his study of the East Javanese popular theatre ludruk that transvestite singers and dancers had a special position and their existence was considered to be “refined” in appearances and acting (Peacock, 1987, pp. 52-53, 168-172). Also, there was a tradition of female– impersonation in Javanese court dancing. However, female-impersonation is still considered to be vulgar and in some cases, an uncultured practice. We can also see the influence of Islamization, the enhancement of consciousness of Islam, in today’s Indonesia. Sometimes the traditional elements in performing art forms are criticized as the deviation from religious piety and as a symbol of being backward. There are the influences of the Western LGBT concept too. Besides female-impersonator performers, there have been transvestite men in Indonesia called waria. Although they are considered to be a part of a different category as dance and theatre performers, they can be considered as similar to female-impersonator performers because they are skilled as dancers or singers (Oetomo, 1996). Anthropologist Tom Boellstorff pointed out that the important skills and knowledge (ilmu) of waria is in their practice of transforming people’s appearances (Boellstorff, 2003, p. 22). Their sexuality had not been always focused on. However, cross-dressing or female-impersonation is often criticized from the point of view of the performer’s sexuality in today’s social discourse. 185 MADOKA FUKUOKA Some Changes on Gender Expression Being aware of various kinds of criticism, there are some changes in Didik’s artistic activities. The first change is seen in the increase of dance works involving serious themes. Didik had been active as a comedian until the 1990s, however since the 2000s he had begun to create serious works.2 The second change is Didik’s efforts to show that the female-impersonator performance as one of Asia’s arts traditions. For his 60th birthday in 2014, Didik held a special event named REBORN in Yogyakarta. Many female-impersonator performers from different Asian countries participated in the event. This event showed that there are diverse traditions of men playing female roles in many Asian countries. Also the event was an opportunity for Didik to show a large audience a creative collaboration based on Javanese court dance and Japanese noh theatre. Through this event, Didik established his artistic practice as part of Javanese artistic traditions, as well as one of the artistic traditions found in Asian countries. Figure 1. Didik performs the collaborative creation entitled “Bedhaya Hagoromo” in the event REBORN, in Bangsal Kapatihan, Yogyakarta, December 2014. (Photo: M. Fukuoka) Ethnicity of Chinese-Indonesian Although Didik emphasizes that he is an Indonesian artist and does not focus on his Chinese descent, we can see some changes in Didik’s recent activities. Since 2010, Didik has begun to devote himself to create the work that has explicit Chinese elements, and he has also begun to work collaboratively with Chinese artists and producers. In 2013, he participated in the celebration of the 15th day of the Chinese New Year in Yogyakarta. Abroad, Didik’s collaborations with Chinese artists and stage directors have been increasing. Since 2016, Didik has participated in a theatrical project held by the Japanese NPO cooperation (Fukuoka, 2018, p. 104). In 2016 and 2017, Didik created the collaborative works with the artists of Chinese theater kunqu. The important point is that his artistic forum expanded to the broader area where the Chinese artists and stage directors are dominant. Recently, Didik has been training and rehearsing with Chinese artists and stage directors in many places such as Taiwan, Hong Kong and Singapore. Conclusion Popular culture studies (studies on popular performance genres) have focused on the cultural politics in a society. Cultural politics include the rivalry of high culture and mass culture, traditional values and modern or contemporary values, religious or ceremonial functions and the commercialization of the art products. Therefore, the negotiation between the artist’s practices and social discourses is one of the important research topics in the study of popular culture. Dance performances are the artistic expressions of the dancer’s searching for their place in society, as well as the representations of their bodies. Didik knows well that there are various opinions about his artistic works, including negative perceptions as well as warm and positive support. The artist, if accepted by society, can expand their influence. Didik, as a female-impersonator dancer as well as an artist of Chinese and Indonesian descent, has endeavoured to position his creative activities in Indonesia by negotiating with 186 BORDER CROSSING OF POPULAR PERFORMANCE GENRES AND THE SEARCH FOR IDENTITY: A CASE STUDY ON INDONESIAN DANCE PERFORMANCE the various kinds of discourses. We can see the artist’s realistic and pragmatic ways of negotiating with various values and social discourses, as well as developing their artistic expressions. Endnotes 1 The author started the study of Didik’s activities in 2004. His works have been observed by a number of researchers since the 1990s and there are some suggestive studies on Didik’s artistic activities, including Jan Mrázek’s study on the artist’s masked performance and identities (Mrázek, 2005), Felicia Hughs-Freeland’s study on the gender expression of the artist’s activities (Hughs-Freeland, 2008). 2 For a more details refer to Fukuoka, 2018, pp. 63-72. References Boellstorff, T. (2003). Dubbing culture: Indonesian gay and lesbi subjectivities and ethnography in an already globalized world. American Ethnologist, 30, 225-242. Fukuoka, M. (2018). Indonesian cross-gender dancer Didik Nini Thowok. Osaka, Japan: Osaka University Press. Hall, S. (1996). Introduction: Who needs “identity”? In S. Hall & P. Du Gay (Eds.), Questions of cultural identity (pp. 1-18). London, UK: Sage Publications. Heryanto, A. (2008). Pop culture and competing identities. In A. Heryanto (Ed.), Popular culture in Indonesia: Fluid identities in post-authoritarian politics (pp. 1-36). London, UK: Routledge. Hughs-Freeland, F. (2008). Cross-dressing across cultures: Genre and gender in the dances of Didik Nini Thowok. ARI Working Paper No. 108, 3-37. Retrieved from https://ari.nus.edu.sg/Publication/Deta il/1264 Mrázek, J. (2005). Masks and selves in contemporary Java: The dances of Didik Nini Thowok. Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 36(2), 249-279. Oetomo, D. (1996). Gender and sexual orientation in Indonesia. In L. J. Sears (Ed.), Fantasizing the feminine in Indonesia (pp. 259-269). Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Peacock, J. (1987). Rites of modernization: Symbols and social aspects of Indonesian proletarian drama. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press. 187 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA D’ ACADEMY ASIA: CROSSING BORDERS THROUGH DANGDUT CONTEST (Lightning Paper) Michael HB Raditya Universitas Gadjah Mada, Indonesia Introduction A middle-aged woman was sitting back and relaxing. She was watching television, singing or following the song for a while. All of a sudden, a boy came and changed the TV channel. The woman, shocked, asked the boy to change the channel back to the channel before. The woman said, “Son, change it (the channel) to Indosiar, you go and do your homework, I am watching Fildan, he's about to sing.” She said again, “change it quickly, he’s competing with foreigner” (personal communication, November 17, 2017). The activity of television watching after conducting domestic chores is done mostly by women in Indonesia. Television is their medium in releasing tiredness from various daily activities. It is interesting that mothers fall in love with Dangdut singing talent contest shows that are regularly aired on the private television station, Indosiar. In the last three years, Indosiar incessantly presents talent contest shows, from stand-up comedy to singing. It is recorded that Dangdut is the most popular in Indonesian society with its contest such as: D’Academy, Liga Dangdut (Dangdut League), Bintang Pantura (Pantura Star), to a concert show with Dangdut legends. Alternately, what is presented on television has the duration of more than 3 hours daily. As a result, these contest shows occupy the leisure time of mothers until they sleep. Thus, do these singing contests really make the mothers stay with these shows? Taking a look at it, these contest shows are not only about singing competition, but also contain life dramas of the singers and comedy actions from the presenters. From the number of Dangdut shows aired on the television station, Indosiar, what is interesting is D’Academy Asia. This show is interesting because Indosiar presents a singing competition of an Indonesian genre, Dangdut, with contestants from other countries in Southeast Asia. In brief, we can see what the competition resulted in, from three seasons that have been aired. Indonesia always won and there was only one foreign contestant—from Malaysia—who got into the big-three round. Not only that, the interesting thing is from the ethnographic data above, when the woman was having conversation with her son that her favourite singer would compete with a singer from other country. In this matter, it can be seen that the contest show does not speak only about individual competition, but is about other things such as competition between countries. Starting from that, the border crossing of Dangdut and countries and representation bring implications with problems created as discussed in this paper. In answering the problem, I will discuss it using two methods, ethnography and literature study. I elaborate on the data with the theory of collective memory and imagined community by Benedict Anderson (2006). The analysis articulates the construction of Asia D’Academy Asia from and for audiences. Dangdut and Television Dangdut is an Indonesian Popular Music that emerged since 1960. Ellya Khadam said that the term Dangdut had been used for private community (Raditya, 2013). Before the term Dangdut, this music was known as Melayu Orchestra. Dangdut became a popular genre in Indonesian society. Andrew Weintraub (2010) states that: Dangdut was commercialized in the 1980s, resignified as a form of national and global pop in the 1990s, and localized within ethnic communities in the 2000s. With roots in popular music of urban post-colonial Indonesia, Dangdut is a privileged site for narrating stories about the modern nationstate of Indonesia. (pp. 11-12) Adding to Weintraub’s statement, William Frederick (1982) mentions that: Dangdut, the style of music here defended by contemporary Indonesia's best- known popular entertainer, has been of enormous influence in much of the post- Sukarno period, especially the years 1975-1981. Aimed directly at youth, it is dominated by a pulsating dance rhythm, and a populist 188 D’ ACADEMY ASIA: CROSSING BORDERS THROUGH DANGDUT CONTEST message, with both Islamic and secular variants. It has produced Indonesia’s first true entertainment superstars; played a large role in creating a market for the mass media in Indonesia (no only cassette tapes but radio, movies, and television); made a mark on other areas of cultural activity, especially literature; sparked open and often heated debate over the state of Indonesian culture; and given Indonesian Islam a new kind of public identity. (p. 103) Following Weintraub and Frederick, people like Dangdut for various reasons, but the important reasons are lyrics and musicality. If we consider the year of Dangdut’s emergence, there are some genres that mix one to another—Indian movies, Melayu Orchestra and Middle Eastern influences. In 1971, the appearance of Oma Irama, known as Rhoma Irama, mixed Western Rock music with Dangdut. Sometime after Rhoma Irama, Reynold Pangabean and Camelia Malik mixed cha-cha in Dangdut (Weintraub, 2010). Around the 2000s, West Java and Jakarta also mixed house music. Since the 1990s, Dangdut was also mixed with traditional music, for example in East Java with Dangdut Koplo since 1996, Dangdut Saluang in West Sumatera, Dangdut Melayu in Riau that was “baptized” in Jakarta in 2003, etc. Then, what about Dangdut and television? Regarding Lono Simatupang (1996) during the 1990s, in a show named Aneka Ria Safari on TVRI that was shown twice a month, 50% to 60% of all shows with a duration of 55 minutes are Dangdut music (p. 67). Furthermore, Dangdut on television was developed more during 1988-1996 with the television show called Panggung Gembira with a stage form in the television studio. In 1994-1996, television showed video clips from Dangdut singers followed by interactive quizzes and telephone calls. In 1996-2005, singers were recorded in the studio. Along with studio recordings, in 2000-2005, the tendency of recorded live performance became a trend. In 2005 until now, talent competitions became a program that is highly favoured. Along with talent competitions, in 2013-2018, Dangdut became associated with reality shows and comedy shows and from 2015-2018, local television studios also made artificial live performances. Dangdut and Television 1988-1996 Stage in Television’s Studio 1994-1996 Video Clip 1995-2005 Studio Recording 1998-2015 Live Performance 2005-2018 2012-2018 2015-2018 Television Competition Comedy Show or Reality Show Artificial live performance that recorded in studio Revealing D’Academy Asia In 2014, Indosiar created a talent show program at the national level known as D’Academy. Obtaining good ratings and great attention from the community, then it makes it seem as if Indosiar wanted to create a breakthrough for Dangdut. In 2015, instead of making a national-level competition, Indosiar created a singing talent show competition with wider level in Southeast Asia. Looking at three years of performances, the competition contestants came from the following countries: 2015 2016 2017 Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei Darussalam, and Singapore Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei Darussalam, Singapore, Thailand, and Timor Leste Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei Darussalam, Singapore, Thailand, and Timor Leste From data in each year, the last two years experienced a good surge, where in 2015, the number of participants from each country was 4, while in 2016 and 2017 the number of contestants from each country was 6. Commentators and judges from each country were invited to give feedback and evaluation after contestants sang. Every competition ran for 3 months, usually in October to December at 240 minutes for every show. The system of the show is that each singer from a different country would be put in one group, so there were 6 singers from different countries. They would compete for the highest points. A singer with the lowest number of points would be eliminated. Surviving contestants performed in what are called the Big 30 Concert, the Big 24 Concert, the Big 20 Concert, the Big 15 Concert, the Big 10 Concert, the Big 8 Concert, 189 MICHAEL HB RADITYA the Big 6 Concert, the Big 5 Concert, the Big 4 Concert, the Grand Finale, and then the Championship Concert. Each singer from each of the six countries would sing one song, and would be given comments by each of the commentators. At the end of the show, the judges would give their total scores. The lowest scoring contestant would be eliminated, and so on. In reality, Indonesia was often the winner. It was nearly impossible that a participant from outside of Indonesia would be the winner. The best achievement from contestants from abroad included a contestant from Malaysia at the Grand Finale Concert (the Big Three Concert) in Asia D’Academy 1, a contestant from Timor Leste in the Big Four Concert in Asia D’Academy 2, and another contestant from Malaysia in the Big Five Concert in Asia D’Academy 3. Therefore, what narrative carries through D’Academy or Indosiar about Dangdut music? From the ethnographic notes at the beginning of this paper, we can see that for the woman watching Asia D’Academy, television is a contribution medium for her country. She is a living witness to the victory of the singer winning the competition and defeating other countries. Furthermore, it can be seen as a stimulation to nationalistic thickening. This thickening implies pride for Dangdut music, fans, and actors that are known, even winning the competition. In this matter, we can see that a popular product can be a medium of certain messages and refers to John Fiske’s observation that television plays as a stimulus and meaning distributor (1992, p. 1). Conclusion: Imagined Dangdut as Power Relation Regarding Dangdut as a competition beyond borders, I see that there are important point to make: First, there is a musical reference similarity with a Melayu element that certainly becomes the main stimulation to audiences in the four countries who can relate one to another; secondly, old Dangdut song such as those created by Rhoma Irama and his colleagues built Dangdut massively, so the album was released. Because of the musical reference similarity, the old Dangdut song or Rhoma Irama era became widely spread. Rhoma and Dangdut often performed in Malaysia and other Southeast Asian countries, referring to a statement by Norman, one of the singer contestants in Dangdut Academy Asia 3. Departing from the musical similarity, I suggest another element- collective memory. The societies in each of the six countries have one similar memory about popular music. Thus, they can connect to each other. Even during the 1990s, a singer named Yus Yunus, sang a song entitled “Gadis Malaysia” (Malaysian Girl). It certainly would be different from other genre. From this kind of competition, we can see that musical references can cross administrative borders of a country. In addition to musical references, the contestants are usually from Melayu societies spread across the five countries although they live in the border, such as Thailand. Meanwhile, Timor Leste is a different case because it was formed by the Indonesian diaspora in that country, or by a number of workers from Indonesia who work in the countries represented by Dangdut Academy Asia contestants. In this matter, they made Dangdut music as a culture representation of Indonesian society abroad. Thus, Dangdut certainly generates pride. However, from another point of view, I see that D’Academy Asia was used to strengthen class taste as the “production team adopts spectacular stage concept of talent show that has been very successful in some countries, with the expectation that the class Dangdut music would be also lifted”. Additionally, there is the practice of imagined communities from Benedict Anderson, applied in the case of Dangdut Academy Asia. Dangdut Academy Asia became the imaginary space for Dangdut music fans wherever they are and that increases pride and love for Dangdut music. They— both the Indonesian audience and audiences in the other five countries—would continuously imagine that they are not alone. They are many, spread, and need to be glad that they live in Dangdut. References Anderson, B. R. O. (2006). Imagined communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism (Rev. ed.). London; New York: Verso. Frederick, W. H. (1982). Rhoma irama and the dangdut style: Aspects of contemporary Indonesian popular culture. Indonesia, 34, 102-130. Fiske, J. (1992). Television culture. London and New York: Routledge. Raditya, M. H. B. (2013). Esensi senggakan pada Dangdut Koplo sebagai identitas musical (Unpublished master’s thesis). Performing Arts and Visual Arts Studies, Graduate School, Universitas Gadjah Mada, Indonesia. 190 D’ ACADEMY ASIA: CROSSING BORDERS THROUGH DANGDUT CONTEST Simatupang, L. L. G. R. (1996). The development of dangdut and its meanings: A study of popular music in Indonesia (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). Department of Anthropology and Sociology Monash University, Australia. Weintraub, A. N. (2010). Dangdut stories: A social and musical history of Indonesia’s most popular music. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. 191 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA KULINTANG IN PHILIPPINE ETHNIC POP: IDENTITY AND AESTHETIC COSMOPOLITANISM (Lightning Paper) Teresa A. Montes University of the Philippines, Philippines Introduction The kulintang is an indigenous instrument from the southern Philippines consisting of a set of bossed gongs laid horizontally on a wooden frame. Of all indigenous instruments in the Philippines, the kulintang has become the most popular. Thus, the kulintang is an iconic indigenous instrument that is incorporated into Philippine popular music as an aural and visual representation of Filipino culture. Filipino musicians explored urban popular music such as rock, funk and jazz by incorporating the indigenous kulintang of Mindanao to their own compositions. Ryan Cayabyab, a sought-after Filipino composer, arranger, and former instructor at the University of the Philippines College of Music, affirms that the kulintang is already an accepted instrument in the pop idiom and well-embraced by many Filipino musicians (Cayabyab, personal communication, May 27, 2018). Beginnings As a musician who plays and “jams” with the kulintang, this study came out of a personal interest in how it all began: Who was the first to use the instrument in Philippine popular music, what was the first song with kulintang, etc.? I examine the early use of the kulintang in the local popular music scene specifically during the late 1970s until early 1980s in urban Metro Manila. I argue that this period of the 70s and 80s marks the beginning of “Philippine Ethnic Pop.” During this time, the nationalist fervor of local pop musicians and bands became most intense (Lockard, 1998). While the 70s was considered “dark times” in Philippine modern history due to martial law (Reynante, 2016), significant developments in Philippine popular music emerged, such as rock songs using local languages and indigenous music instruments as well as the birth of “Manila Sound”. These developments defined “OPM” to mean “Original Pilipino Music,” a label now used to refer to all Filipino Pop music (Osias, 2011). Kulintang Cosmopolitanized The role of the kulintang in “Filipinizing” popular music highlights not only the Filipino musicians’ efforts to strengthen national identity, but also brings with it a kind of aesthetic cosmopolitanism to Philippine local Pop. Motti Regev defined “aesthetic cosmopolitanism” as the “condition in which the representation and performance of ethno-national cultural uniqueness are largely based on art forms that are created by contemporary technologies of expression, and whose expressive forms include stylistic elements knowingly drawn from sources exterior to indigenous traditions” (Regev, 2007, p. 126). In the context of Philippine Pop, the key concept is “cultural uniqueness.” Filipino musicians take pride in singing, performing and interpreting pop excellently. At the same time, there is the desire to “perform” Filipino. Specifically, the kulintang, as it is incorporated into popular music, has become valuable in bringing out that cultural uniqueness. The kulintang’s character, rhythms and sonic qualities inspire Filipino musicians to adapt the instrument and use it in urban musical settings. In the process of incorporating the kulintang into urban local Pop, the instrument becomes cosmopolitanized. “Kulintang Pop” For practical purposes, I use the term “Kulintang Pop” to refer to all popular music that incorporates the kulintang and/or its traditional stylistic features. It covers a broad spectrum of popular music genres such as Folk Rock, Funk, Latin and Jazz. The degree and manner to which kulintang is borrowed in popular music may vary. There are songs and pieces in which the role of the kulintang may seem minor and subservient. This, however, does not diminish the prominence as well as the cultural and aesthetic impact of the kulintang in these pieces and, consequently, in Philippine Pop. Hence, I also consider them “Kulintang Pop” insofar as the kulintang instrument and/or its traditional stylistic features are visually/aurally present. 192 KULINTANG IN PHILIPPINE ETHNIC POP: IDENTITY AND AESTHETIC COSMOPOLITANISM This study looks at some of the Kulintang Pop repertoire that were composed, recorded, and performed by well-known Filipino popular artists during the late 70s and early 80s. I now present four examples of what I call “Kulintang Pop.” Pinoy Funk (Jun Regalado, Eddie Munji III) “Pinoy Funk” is an instrumental funk tune by Filipino drummer Jun Regalado and Jazz artist Eddie Munji III. As printed on its 45rpm, “Pinoy Funk” was released in 1977 under the label “Jem Recording Co.,” one of the leading recording companies during that time (Manalo, personal communication, May 29, 2018). As of this writing, this is the earliest recording that incorporates Kulintang in Philippine popular music. Regalado and Munji are both considered “giants” in the Philippine popular music scene. The late Eddie Munji III was a multi-instrumentalist and arranger, while Jun Regalado is a famous drummer who is still active in the Philippine music industry, performing with famous pop artists in the country (Concepcion, 2017). Regalado and Munji were frequent collaborators who were regarded as some of the top session musicians of the country (Policarpio, 2012). As the title suggests, “Pinoy Funk” was an attempt to localize funk through the use of the kulintang. According to Regalado, the foundation of the piece is the kulintang melody, created and recorded by Regalado himself. (Regalado, personal communication, 2017). Regalado also recorded some coconut shells as steady pulse, also adding to the Filipino flavour that Regalado wanted (Regalado, personal communication, 2017). According to Regalado, all the parts of “Pinoy Funk” are recorded in analogue on a 2-inch tape. The other musicians in the recording are also among the country’s most sought-after session musicians (Regalado, personal communication, 2017). “Pinoy Funk” has the standard qualities that characterize funk: a heavy bass line, a catchy and intense groove, and brass parts that “burst” to provide some accents. While the light, “ethnic” texture of the kulintang may seem to contrast with the heaviness of urban funk, it is in this contrast that a Filipino aesthetic in funk is highlighted. “Pinoy Funk” is unique because of its inclusion of kulintang in the disco music culture that was trending in Manila in the 70s. Ang Bayan Kong Sinilangan (Asin) The second example of Kulintang Pop is by a folk-rock band called Asin, which is Filipino for “salt”. The band’s name was derived from the Mick Jagger song “Salt of the Earth” (“NOY and ASIN,” n. d.). Asin claims to be the first folk-rock band to incorporate Philippine indigenous instruments into Philippine rock (“NOY and ASIN,” n. d.). They are considered to be among the pioneers of ethnic pop (“Ethnic Pop,” n. d.). They are known for their songs with socially oriented themes such as environmental awareness and nationalism (“NOY and ASIN,” n. d.). They also advocate for respect for Philippine indigenous instruments (“NOY and ASIN,” n.d.). The band released their first album in 1978, with one song incorporating the kulintang, titled “Ang Bayan Kong Sinilangan.” “Ang Bayan Kong Sinilangan” (“Land Of My Birth”) is a song about a place in southern Philippines called Cotabato, where violence is often reported in the news. Cotabato is also one of the places with an active kulintang tradition. The kulintang can be heard in specific parts of the song—in the introduction, towards the end, and in fills between the verses. Furthermore, the tuning of the kulintang seems different from the key of the song, which is in A minor. This presents one of the challenges of the fusion process in Kulintang Pop: Unlike western instruments with standard tuning, the kulintang has varied set of tones that may seem limiting to integrate into pop music. On the other hand, in spite of the tuning issues, the distinct sound of the gongs effectively achieves the desired effect of putting a local stamp to pop music. Sinta (Bong Peñera) My third example is “Sinta” by Bong Peñera. Bong Peñera is a Filipino Jazz pianist who is known for his Brazilian-influenced style. He is regarded as the “samba king” of the Philippines (Peñera, n. d.) composing songs such as “Batucada sa Kalesa.” His self-titled album in 1978 included an instrumental samba jazz piece called “Sinta” (“Love”), which is a rearrangement of the song “Alalahanin” (“Remember”) from a 1976 film called “Sinta, Ang Bituing Bagong Gising” (“Love, A Star Awakened”). The kulintang can be heard in the introduction and the end of “Sinta.” According to Peñera, the kulintang was played by Dingdong “Boogie” Pangindian (Peñera, personal communication, March 26, 2018), a leading famous percussionist and, like 193 TERESA A. MONTES Regalado and Munji, was also a top sessionist. In the piece, the role of the kulintang is mostly textural and rhythmic, using only 2 gongs. Its distinct, prominent tone, however, gives the piece a certain novelty. As of this writing, this is the earliest known Latin/Samba piece with kulintang. Narito ang Eden (composed by Ramon Faustmann/Betsy Romualdez, arr. Eddie Munji III) My last example is “Narito ang Eden” (meaning “Eden is Here”), a song composed by Ramon Faustmann/Betsy Romualdez, and arranged by Eddie Munji III (Himig, “Narito ang Eden”, n. d.). “Narito ang Eden” was recorded by Filipino pop singer Kuh Ledesma in 1983 in her album “Ako ay Pilipino” (“I am Filipino”). The song mixes many interesting musical sonic textures and popular stylistic features—a long rock guitar solo, slow funk sections, strings, female back-up voices, electronic samples of Indian percussion, a flute, drums and bass, and some Philippine indigenous instruments. At its core though, the song uses the rhythm of a traditional Maranao dance called singkil. This singkil rhythm is the thematic material of the song, and is accompanied by the kulintang. Summary To summarize, these four examples, namely “Pinoy Funk”, “Ang Bayan Kong Sinilangan”, “Sinta” and “Narito ang Eden” show integration of the kulintang in Philippine popular music culture during the late 70s to early 80s. The efforts by the various musicians and composers from different popular genres to create a Filipino and modern sound through kulintang highlights the aesthetic cosmopolitan attitudes prevailing in Manila music scene at that time. References [Eric Balajadia]. (2011, December 7). Asin “Ang Bayan Kong Sinilangan” 1978. [Video File]. Retrieved from https://youtu.be/guZtORILDUM Concepcion, P. (2017, September 27). 50 years of drumming: Jun Regalado marks milestone with all-star free concert. INQUIRER.net. Retrieved from http://www.google.com.ph/amp/lifestyle.inquirer.net/ 274364/jun-regalado-50- years-of-drumming/amp/ Ethnic Pop (n. d.). Retrieved from http://www.himig.com.ph/features/43-ethnic-pop Faustmann, R., Romualdez, B., & Munji III, E. (1983). Narito ang Eden [Recorded by Kuh Ledesma]. On Ako ay Pilipino. Retrieved from http://open.spotify.com/Track/6ZJgV6pxGJseecL1D0IHIX?si= LtAATX-dSIWMsJDotIMy1w Lockhard, C. A. (1998). Dance of life: Popular music and politics in Southeast Asia. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. Narito ang Eden (n. d.). Retrieved from http://www.himig.com.ph/songs/2683-narito-ang-eden NOY and ASIN (n. d.) Retrieved from http://noypilloramusic.blogspot.com/p/Noy-and-asin.html [OPM Vinyl Playlist]. (2016, May 24). Sinta by Bong Penera. [Video File]. Retrieved from https://you tu.be/It7KUzyhYxl Osias, P. (2011, November 21). Hotdog: An enduring legacy of OPM hits. Philstar.com. Retrieved from https://philstar.com/entertainment/2011/11/21/750028/hotdog-enduring-legacy-opm-hits Peñera, B. (n. d.) Retrieved from http://m.bradelias.wix.com/bpmusic Policarpio, A. (2012, November 22). The genius of Eddie Munji III. INQUIRER.net. Retrieved from https:// www.google.com.ph/amp/entertainment.inquirer.net/68595/the-genius-of-eddie-munji-iii/amp Regalado, J. (1977). Pinoy Funk. Retrieved from https://www.google.com.ph/amp/s/pinoygrooves. com/2018/04/18/regalado-pinoy-funk/amp/ Regev, M. (2013). Pop-rock music: Aesthetic cosmopolitanism in late modernity. Cambridge: Polity Press. Regev, M. (2007). Cultural uniqueness and aesthetic cosmopolitanism. European Journal of Social Theoryvol, 10(1), 123-138. Reynante, R. (2016, June 23). Martial law: The bright side of the martial law era. One MusicPh. Retrieved from http://www.onemusic.ph/news/in-spite-of-Martial-law-manila-sound-shown-1052 194 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA THE BIRTH OF IBAN POPULAR SONG IN THE 1960S (Lightning Paper) Connie Lim Keh Nie University of Malaysia Sarawak, Malaysia This paper examines the rise of Iban popular music from the 1960s after the establishment of Iban radio broadcast under Radio Sarawak. The Iban is the largest indigenous ethnic group in Sarawak and the Iban radio station in 1954 disseminated information to the Iban. The Iban radio station also become one of the most important platforms for Iban popular songs to reach young urban Iban youth who were eager to create a form of Iban songs that to responded to modernity. In this paper I ask the following questions: who were the urban elite that contributed to the rise of Iban popular song? How did their songs reflect both the new nation and modernity for Iban? What themes emerged in song lyrics that related to a shared history for Sarawakians? Theoretical Framework Most social science theories depict the concept of modernity as a recognizable historical rupture (Appadurai, 1996). However, Joel S. Kahn (2001, 2003) suggests that in Asia the concept of modernity is different from the West as an exemplary modernity. Building upon this Bart Barendregt (2014) and others see an ‘alternative modernity’ in Southeast Asia’s global and local approaches to popular music. Modernity is seen as the production of new fashions, markets and lifestyles that offer “a glimpse of how and why people have taken up ideas of the modern, how it is made, unmade and remade, paying ample attention to how such reconfigurations may serve various claims and are constantly haunted by yet others” (Barendregt, 2014, p. 66). In terms of musical style and vocal expression, modernity also has the power to transform popular aesthetic expression, often to the detriment of indigenous vocal styles (Hood, 2014). As demonstrated in this study below, change had extended to expressions of Iban identity through modernity and its reflection in the creation of popular music. In this way ‘alternative modernities’ show how the Iban through song lyrics responded to their surroundings, experiences and viewpoints. The Impact of British Empire and Christian Missionary towards Modern Music The British Empire and Christian Mission laid the foundation for Iban to adapt Western arts towards the creation of Iban popular music. Both sectors are interconnected in spreading modernization and globalization in Western culture. The Brooke monarchy had established its network, particularly by means of communications, the usage of English language and setting up a ranger’s band by bringing in musicians and band director from Manila, Philippines. Social Interaction of Upper Class Iban in Urban Kuching My paper starts at a pivotal point in the emergence of Iban popular music that involves two upper class Iban families from the urban Kuching city known as the Linang and the Bayang. Their father was once a government officer during the Japanese occupation and British colonial era. Since the early 1940s, both Bayang and Linang families were members of the urban society residing in Sekama (known as Mendu Road). They owned radiogram, vinyl records, guitars, a violin and a drum set. In my interview with Senorita Linang (2017) she said, We used to have radiogram. We used to buy records (vinyl) like Elvis Presley, Connie Francis, Cliff Richard, Skitter Davies and many other(s), I used to listen to the songs during my school days as loud as possible, full blast. Because my neighbour, the Mason family also got radiogram, I also want(ed) to compete with them!” (parentheses mine). Senorita Linang’s experiences speak to the young upper class urban Iban who were educated in mission schools were very inclined to western popular culture. 195 CONNIE LIM KEH NIE Radio Sarawak, the Rise of Iban Popular Music The Iban section of Radio Sarawak was indeed searching for modern Iban music to cater to modernity. Radio Sarawak had given the Linang and Bayang family members an opportunity to create Iban songs. Jazz music in the style of swing, Western music in the tango style, Malay and Hindustani rhythmic elements could be found in this early Iban pop music. It was also strongly influenced by swing, bebop, boogie woogie, joget modern, American Jazz, keroncong, film music from Malay and Hindustani film music rendered by Alfonso Soliano Orchestra which had dominated the air waves of Radio Malaya (Saidah Rastam, 2014). In order to cater to the needs of Radio Sarawak in producing new Iban songs, Terabak Tawas (Break of Day), a new Iban band was formed in 1957. Esther Bayang, Vida Bayang and Pauline Doreen Linang were among the pioneer Iban female singers. These musicians catered to the needs of the time and wrote for entertainment purposes. However, their songs were also modern media used for nation building within the Iban territories. Iban popular songs ‘Bujang Malaya’ and ‘Ranyai Berjuang’ written in the late 1950s were songs of praise for the Iban Trackers and Sarawak Rangers for their bravery fighting against the communist. Besides songs of praise, Iban songs were written as expressions of modernization in Sarawak. For example, the song written by Joshua Suin Lawat,‘Tanah Ai Menua Ka’ (‘My Land, My Country’), pays tribute to the government of Sarawak for constructing schools for the Dayak. Similarly, the song ‘Menua Sarawak’ (‘The Country of Sarawak’) sung by Vida Bayang acknowledges the governorship of Sarawak under the supreme of Council Negeri and Temenggon and Penghulu community leaders who led Sarawak on the road towards modernity. Suffice it to say, Iban songs written during 1963-1965 articulated Sarawak as a new country under self-government. Iban Pop songs marked significant national developments such as Sarawak’s membership into the Federation of Malaysia. Responding to the formal Proclamation of Malaysia on 16 September 1963, Myra Esther Adam wrote a song ‘Malaysia Baru’ (‘New Malaysia’). Other songs include ‘Menua Sarawak’ (‘The Country Sarawak’) sung by Rosana Bichu and ‘Oh Sarawak’ written and sung by Myra Esther Adam. It is not surprising to find songs that were used as tools to express national values. Sarawak consists of multiple ethnicities, faiths and backgrounds that were united under new government. But it is important to note that, similar to the case in Indonesian popular music, Iban popular music was created to cater to political changes and this continued to expedite government agendas for decades (Barendregt & Zanten, 2002). Conclusion Since 1954, Iban popular music through Radio Sarawak has played a fundamental role in amplifying and disseminating ideas about Iban culture’s response to modernity. Historically, the Iban are a cultural group located geographically and politically on the periphery of the multi-cultural nation of Malaysia. Articulating alternative modernities in popular music, the appearance of being ‘modern’ and appeal of ‘modernity’ are often connected with the lifestyle of postcolonial Southeast Asia. Encountering modernity, the Iban have traversed periods of institutional change from the Pre-Brooke Era to British colonization (1946-1963) until the Malaysian nationalism era. Thus, the agents of change that are expressed in popular songs introduced the Iban to a world driven by cash economy and capitalism where Iban experienced a rapid influx of change. As demonstrated in this paper, Iban popular music lyrics contain closely linked poetic and expressive narratives of historical events happening during 1950s to 1970s when the bravery of Iban Trackers were recognized in fighting against the communist during the Malayan Emergency (1948-1960). On the other hand, the Iban popular songs also commemorated Sarawak as a member of the Federation of Malaysia. References Appadurai, A. (1996). Modernity at large: Cultural dimensions of globalization. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Barendregt, B. (2014). Sonic histories in a Southeast Asian context. In Sonic modernities in the Malay world: A history of popular music, social distinction and novel lifestyles (1930s-2000s) (pp. 1–43). Leiden: Brill. Barendregt, B. & Zanten, W. V. (2002). Popular music in Indonesia since 1998, in particular fusion, indie and Islamic music on video compact discs and the internet. Yearbook for Traditional Music, 34, 67– 113. 196 THE BIRTH OF IBAN POPULAR SONG IN THE 1960S Hood, M. M. (2014). Voicing the nation, negotiating tradition: Popular music influences on traditional Balinese vocal styles. Mudra, 29(3), 342-347. Kahn, J. S. (2001). Modernity and exclusion. London: SAGE Publications. Kahn, J. S. (2003). Islam, modernity, and the popular in Malaysia. In V. Hooker & N. Othman (Eds.), Malaysia: Islam, society and politics (pp. 149–166). Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. Rastam, S. (2017). Rosalie and other love songs. Kuala Lumpur: Khazanah National Berhad. 197 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA JOURNEY ACROSS BORDERS: THE UNFULFILLED DESIRE OF MEGAT NORDIN (Lightning Paper) Raja Iskandar bin Raja Halid Universiti Malaysia Kelantan, Malaysia Introduction Although ethnomusicologists have been engaging with musicians for many years, little has been said about individuals in music (Nettl, 1983, p. 278). Biographical writings in ethnomusicology have now become increasingly important and according to (Stock, 2001, p. 6) are largely based on four main themes: history, advocacy, voice and hermeneutics. Ruskin and Rice (2012) observe that ethnomusicologists are drawn towards the study of individual musicians due to, among others, their exceptional musical qualities, attempts in creating new individual identities and roles in their musical societies. They suggest that four types of individuals should be studied: the innovators in a tradition, key figures who occupy important roles in a musical culture, ordinary individuals and anonymous audience members and those involved in music production. Stokes (2010) for example, looks into Turkish modern history in his biographical “case studies” on three central figures of Turkish popular music, framed within the idea of ‘cultural intimacy’. In Malaysia, the celebrated puppeteer, Hamzah Awang Amat was given due recognition through a biography written by Ghulam-Sarwar Yousof (1997). A book was also written on P. Ramlee, a Malaysian film and music icon, by Harding and Ahmad Sarji (2011), largely looking into his creative works rather than his personal life. Biographical works on Malaysian artists, either modern or traditional are still scarce and more research needs to be done. In this paper I would like to introduce one of the most influential and best loved dikir singers in Kelantan, to investigate how he negotiated the economic, political and religious aspects that influenced his career and how he reinvented himself as a mainstream singer in an effort to gain nationwide popularity. This is part of a research on the localized popular music of Kelantan, with its own recording and entertainment industry. Pak Gat On September the 11th 2017, a dikir barat show was organized by a local politician in Melor, just outside of Kota Bharu, Kelantan. It was one of the many shows organized by political parties in the run-up to the 14th General Elections expected to be held in a few months’ time. Dikir barat, a popular musical genre, is frequently used to attract crowds for political campaigns by both sides of the political divide in Kelantan. Megat Nordin was one of the singers invited together with eight other local artists and, as usual, was the main crowd puller. But on that night, he had to be carried on and off the stage as he was too weak to walk. He was seriously ill. He managed to deliver his famous song Titih Pusaka to the delight of the audience, but it was going to be the last time the song was sung by Megat Nordin, in fact it was the last show of his singing career. Megat Nordin was virtually unknown outside of the state of Kelantan. Known as Pak Gat among his friends and fans, he is considered the best among his generation and elevated the art of dikir singing to a new level. He was known for his smooth high-pitched voice, beautifully improvised melisma, delivered with soothing dynamics and vibrato. Many of his songs were spiritually mesmerizing, so that there were cases when people went into a trance. Megat was not only known for his singing talent but also his humility and generosity. Many of his songs are about longing and unfulfilled wish or desire. His lyrics talk about and as if they were stories of his personal life. Titles of some of his songs would give us some idea: 1. Derita Seorang (‘Suffering Alone’) 2. Ku Bertepuk Sebelah Tangan (‘Unrequited Love’) 3. Serabut Perot (‘Worrying Mind’) 4. Angan-Angan Jadi Kayo (‘Dreaming to be Rich’) 5. Kembara Sepi (‘Lonely Journey’) 6. Tinggalah Kasih (‘Goodbye My Love’) 198 JOURNEY ACROSS BORDERS: THE UNFULFILLED DESIRE OF MEGAT NORDIN The Beginning Nor Din bin Yusoff was born on the 27th of October 1961 in Kubang Kerian, Kota Bharu. His father was a well-known jogho or main singer in a dikir barat group, going by the stage name Yusoff Kara. His father was also a Qur’an teacher who once taught the present Yang Dipertuan Agong, Sultan Muhammad V. It was obvious that Megat inherited his father’s talent both as a singer and qur’anic reciter. Megat began singing in a dikir barat group when he was 19 and learned from some of the best dikir singers of the 1980s such as Aripin Ana, Salleh Jambu, Jusoh Kelong and Daud Bukit Abal. In those days the dikir barat performances called ‘Dikir Padang’ (field dikir) were held on football fields and tickets of MYR2.00 were sold. Besides learning from his dikir masters, Megat also listened to a number of Malaysian popular mainstream singers such as Hail Amir, DJ Dave, M. Nasir and Jamal Abdillah. However, some of his most influential artists came from across the border—such as the keroncong singers Mus Mulyadi and Sri Widadi, and the Sumateran pop singer Eddy Silitonga. Megat began to develop his own style, combining the high-pitched singing style of Eddy Silitonga, melismatic improvisations of Arabic maqams and the musical style from the traditional Kelantanese theatre known as mak yong. His talent was noticed while working as a bus conductor and he started to make a name in the local music industry in the early 1990’s. He began recording under Sin Chong and Sincere record labels and was paid a one-off payment of between MYR1000-2000, without any royalties. Megat had lost count of the number of songs he recorded but it amounted to “hundreds”. Up to 1994 his album sold more than 100,000 copies and one of his hit songs was “Tunggu-Tunggu Tak Kelik”. Pak Ngah In the early 2000s, Megat was introduced to the late composer/producer Pak Ngah and an album was released soon after with a hit song “Ambo Raso Bekene” (‘I Felt Enchanted’). Another album followed entitled Dikir Lebaran, with another hit song “Puasa Puasa Puasa” (‘Fast Fast Fast’) composed by Pak Ngah himself. The 2000s was also a period of a booming recording industry in Kelantan. Countless albums were released usually with accompanying music videos sold in VCD format. Raunchy female folk singers were the craze and a number of male artists would record duet numbers with these popular singers to boost their own popularity and record sales. Megat however, resisted the temptation and upheld his dignity as a true dikir artist. As a full-time artist, Megat had to maintain good relationships with both PAS and UMNO political parties in Kelantan. Although there are artists who openly support either one of them, Megat however remained neutral. He was a member of the local dikir organization which, like many organizations in Kelantan, is controlled by UMNO. Megat voiced out against what he saw as corrupt practices in the organization. He wanted to run for president and as a result, he was accused of being a supporter of PAS (the Islamic party that rules the state of Kelantan) and his songs were banned by the state radio. The biggest break of his career was when he entered the 4th edition of Kilauan Emas singing competition in Kuala Lumpur in 2014. Kilauan Emas is a popular reality TV competition open to singers aged 40 and above. Organized by Malaysia’s biggest satellite TV and radio broadcaster, Astro, the competition offers up to MYR50,000 for the winner. In Kilauan Emas, Megat changed his name to just Nordin and altered his singing style to suit the mainstream Malaysian audience. He not only crossed the political border of Kelantan but also his artistic boundaries. He had to shed his “kampung” (village) look to portray a more ‘urban’ one, to the extent of wearing suits and neck ties. His technique and tone are more akin to Jamal Abdillah’s than the Megat Nordin that everyone knew. But this did not stop Kelantanese all over Malaysia from tuning in to their Astro channels and there were claims that there was an increase in Astro subscriptions in Kelantan during the period. Depression Late 2016 and early 2017 was a period of depression for Megat. He moved to Jerteh, Terengganu into selfexile. Megat was frustrated with his own state of Kelantan which he felt had betrayed him, even though he was just honoured as Tokoh Seni Negeri Kelantan (‘Prominent Artist of Kelantan’) and given a house in Kota Bharu. There were also stories of some disagreement with his family members regarding a piece of family land where the house was to be built. He felt that the honour would provide him with better financial rewards, but it wasn’t the case. He built a wooden house near the Terengganu forest reserve and felt more spiritually 199 RAJA ISKANDAR BIN RAJA HALID connected with nature there. When I visited him there in early 2017, he was wearing a jubah, a long white Arabic robe, while holding prayer beads. He looked more like an imam than a popular singer. Conclusion In October 2017 Megat was diagnosed with liver cirrhosis and hospitalized. Charity shows were held by dikir artists all over Kelantan. On his hospital bed, for religious reasons, he requested that the songs “Titih Pusaka” and “Dewi Menjelma”, two of his famous songs, not to be performed or played. “Titih Pusaka” is a song with lyrics derived from the Main Pateri healing performance, which is banned by the state government. There is a Malay saying that an artist is like “lilin yang membakar diri” or “a candle that burns itself” while giving light to others. Megat gave joy to his fans but struggled financially and emotionally as an artist. His frustration was conveyed in his own words: We ran away from Kelantan, came to live here, a secluded place, yes I was recognized… this title that title… after the recognition then what? I am jobless… do you want me to eat the trophy… The recent accolades and sudden rise in popularity were too much for Megat to handle. According to Thompson and Jacque (2017), one of the common psychiatric disorders related to performing artists is social anxiety, which is marked by fear of negative evaluation and avoidance of social interaction. Gross and Musgrave (2016) find that one of the major issues related to depression among musicians include “money worries” and “dealing with precarious and unpredictable pay.” It seems that music’s universality here includes problems faced by those who practice it. Megat Nordin died on the 27th of October 2017, on his 56th birthday. References Ghulam-Sarwar Yousof (1999). Angin wayang: Biografi dalang wayang kulit yang unggul: Hamzah Awang Amat. Kuala Lumpur: Kementerian Kebudayaan, Kesenian dan Pelancongan. Gross, S. A. & Musgrave, G. (2016). Can music make you sick? Music and depression: A study into the incidence of musicians’ mental health, Part 1: Pilot survey test. Middlesex: MusicTank Publishing. Harding, J. & Ahmad Sarji (2011). P. Ramlee: The bright star. Petaling Jaya: MPH Group Publishing. Nettl, B. (1983). The study of ethnomusicology: Twenty-nine issues and concepts. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press. Ruskin, J. D. & Rice, T. (2012). The individual in musical ethnography. Ethnomusicology, 56(2), 299-327. Stock, J. P. J. (2001). Toward an ethnomusicology of the individual, or biographical writing in ethnomusicology. The World of Music, 43(1), 5-19. Stokes, M. (2010). The republic of love: Cultural intimacy in Turkish popular music. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Thompson, P. & Jacque, V. S. (2017). Creativity and the performing artist: Behind the mask. London: Elsevier. 200 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA TANGO IN PARADISE: WHY DANCE TANGO ARGENTINO ON BALI? Kendra Stepputat University of Music and Performing Arts Graz, Austria Four years ago I planned a trip to Bali and when I saw that tango argentino dance events (milongas) are organized regularly in the villages of Seminyak and Ubud, I was excited. Having lived on Bali for some time and been a tango dancer for more than a decade, this seemed like a dream come true. While packing my tango shoes, I became curious about the circumstances: Who dances tango on Bali? If there are Balinese among the dancers, what drives them to dance this dance that is seemingly so different from all other music or dance forms manifest in present day Bali? Tango Argentino Music and Dance—A Short Overview Tango argentino has its genesis more than 100 years ago at the turn of the 19th to 20th century in the Rio de la Plata area of Uruguay and Argentina. The capital cities Montevideo (Uruguay) and most importantly Buenos Aires (Argentina) were places where migrants from Europe, Africa and native South/Latin Americans met. They brought their diverse cultures with them, combining, experimenting, and developing something new. The tango came into being, bearing elements from a variety of cultures (see Torp, 2007). Dance, music, and lyrics developed in parallel, and all three are still closely related in tango argentino practice today. Two forms of tango argentino dance practice currently co-exist: the staged, choreographed tango (escenario) and the social dance tango (pista) (see Cara, 2009). The focus of my research is solely on the social dance tango pista. It is an improvisational couples’ dance based on a common movement repertoire that allows both tango dancers to jointly improvise instantly, even if they have not danced with each other before. The challenge of dancing with new partners and having a physical connection to somebody unknown is at the core of the dance experience. Learning to dance tango is a long-term and never-ending endeavour; it takes years to properly master both parts (the lead and the follow). Tango music for social dancing is mostly taken from recordings made in the “golden age” of tango in Buenos Aires (1930s-1950s). The tango orchestras of that time (orquesta típica, consisting of piano, bass, violins, and bandonéons) were mostly known under the name of the orchestra leader, for instance Juan D’Arienzo, Carlos Di Sarli, and Hanibal Troilo. Tango music of the golden age makes use of functional harmony and tonal melodic constructions, employing more minor than major scales, and are mostly composed in a song structure with two alternating main parts (A and B). Sometimes a female or male singer is part of the arrangement (see Link & Wendland, 2016). Even today, the vast collection of recordings from the golden age is considered to be the main corpus of tango music for dancing by most social tango dancers. Some contemporary tango ensembles and orchestras focus on playing tango music for dancing, either interpreting golden age compositions for dancing or composing new pieces in the golden age style. Tango is a cosmopolitan performing arts genre, practiced today in cities around the world (see Fares, 2015). In countries where economic stability allows for such an intensive hobby, performing arts practices are politically and culturally accepted, and physical contact in public between man and woman, woman and woman, man and man, are officially allowed and not culturally frowned upon. Tango dancers come from a variety of cultural and regional backgrounds and are of all ages and genders. The cosmopolitan tango network remains connected primarily through traveling and social media (Stepputat, 2017). The Tango Community in Bali Many urban centres in Southeast Asia have a lively tango argentino scene, Manila, Jakarta, Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur being prominent examples. The tango community on Bali, in contrast, is small, but the structures are the same as in any other tango community I have encountered. A few key people organize milongas and practice evenings (prácticas) or invite guest teachers and are surrounded by a fluctuating number of people who are involved to a varying degree, ranging from active assistance in organizing tasks and regular participation to temporary or seldom appearances. Currently there are two locations where milongas and prácticas are regularly organized, the Blu Café and Restaurant in Ubud on Sundays and the Casa Artista1 in Seminyak on Fridays. The tango dancer most active in keeping the Ubud community together 201 KENDRA STEPPUTAT is Kirill Shapran from Russia. Together with two fellow tango dancers (Michelle Navarro and Valentino Luca), he started building the tango community in Ubud in 2014 and has continued ever since.2 Figure 1. Milonga in the Casa Artista (left) and Hujan Locale (right), July 2014. (Photographs by K. Stepputat) The owner of the Casa Artista in Seminyak is Stefani Kang, who must be considered the mother of tango in Bali. Stefani is from Germany and has lived on Bali continuously for 36 years. Stefani invited the first tango teachers to Bali in 2002, since which the tango community has grown slowly but steadily to approximately 20-30 people. She founded the Tango Bali Club in 2006 and organizes weekly milongas and prácticas. She also organized the annual “Tango Bali Festival” from 2005 to 2015 and regularly invites professional guest teachers to Bali.3 The two tango communities in Ubud and in Seminyak overlap, and active dancers go to events in both places. Between 10 and 20 dancers show up at the regular milongas and prácticas; approximately two thirds are women. The tango community on Bali is an expatriate culture. According to Stefani, members come from a wide variety of countries, ranging from the neighbouring island Java to Japan, Australia, Korea, and also including European countries and the Americas. While some of them continuously live on Bali, others go back and forth on business but spend a considerable amount of time there. In addition to this local tango community, tourists who are already tango dancers might drop by and go to a milonga while on vacation in Bali. Stefani stated that over the years, only a very few Balinese, male and female, have started to dance tango, and none of them have stayed in the community for a longer time. Obviously, my initial research question needed to be adjusted: why are the Balinese not as interested in dancing tango as the expatriate community? I do not intend to give a final answer to this. The perspective I take in this small research project is that of the tango practicing expatriates on Bali and their ideas, insights, interpretations, and speculations on why the Balinese are not drawn to tango. This approach sheds light on two aspects; first, what tango dancers consider important in tango culture and what their own priorities are, and second, their insights into “Balinese culture” and how it supposedly differs from “their own” or, in Turino’s terms, the cultural cohort they are a part of (see Turino, 2008). For this purpose, I informally talked to dancers at the milongas and prácticas in Bali, chatted with Kirill Shapran through social media, and conducted formal interviews with Stefani Kang and Robert Jahr.4 In addition, I asked for feedback from Balinese who are not tango dancers concerning these speculations. Both Stefani and Robert identified several issues they consider relevant for why the Balinese are generally not interested in tango argentino. I will sum up the most prominent ones here. The first issue is related to the music. For tango dancers, it is important to have an intimate relationship to the music and be able to interpret it through their dance and have at least a basic knowledge of tango music structures and the most important orchestras of the golden age. Of course, tango music is very different—its structure, organization, sound quality and so on—from Balinese music, but also from other musics that a general Balinese audience is acquainted with. Tango dancers on Bali agreed that for someone with such a different listening experience, it is probably hard to “get into the feeling” of tango music. My interlocutors thereby addressed the problem of the Balinese being unfamiliar with the music and, thus, the difficulties in relating to it emotionally, which they consider one of the most important elements in tango dancing. The second issue is the “missing fun.” This statement actually relates to two separate aspects of tango culture. First, tango dancers mentioned the “sad quality” of tango music (minor scale, straight beats), 202 TANGO IN PARADISE: WHY DANCE TANGO ARGENTINO ON BALI? which is not as flashy and fun as other dance music with a major scale and upbeat structure. Second, they agreed that it is “no fun to learn tango.” Robert stated that salsa, for instance, “…can be learned on the dance floor.” Salsa dancing has a steep learning curve, which is in stark contrast to tango, where dancers will train for several years until they feel competent enough to go dancing at a milonga for the first time. The third and possibly most important issue was the embrace. Tango is danced with a lot of physical contact; arms, torsos, and sometimes legs touch in a close embrace. For many people, it is strange to separate physical proximity from physical attraction, especially if the culture in which they were brought up restricts physical closeness to strangers, in particular those of the opposite sex. My interlocutors all agreed that it is probably very difficult for Balinese to maintain—let alone enjoy—constant physical closeness with strangers. These were the three main issues tango dancers addressed when speculating why there were no Balinese in the local tango community.5 I would like to add another aspect that none of the interlocutors mentioned yet all the Balinese I spoke with found to be relevant.6 Both tango communities and their venues are in areas that have a strong tourist infrastructure and at the same time are geographically removed from urban areas mainly populated by people with higher education and wealth. The Balinese with such backgrounds who might be interested in dancing tango may either not know of the existence of tango on Bali or (if they knew) think that these events are not meant for them. The Economic Factor Dancing tango argentino is expensive. A dancer needs shoes, proper clothing, money for lessons, and entry fees. Is tango argentino too expensive for the Balinese? It is not as easy as saying that expatriates have more money and therefore can afford to dance tango while the Balinese cannot. Many expatriates on Bali can barely afford to live properly in their countries of origin and are subject to precarious working conditions. On the other hand, members of the Balinese middle class—especially those in urban areas—can be considered economically stable enough to afford a hobby like tango. The classical argument of rich expatriates versus poor Balinese falls short. I mentioned earlier that some Javanese are part of the tango community in Seminyak. I talked to two of them—both male dancers—and both reported that they had learned to dance tango from Stefani because she needed more male tango dancers. One of them used to be a salsa dancer and switched to tango at some point. Both of them added that they are paid as “taxi dancers” by the Casa Artista to come to milongas and “dance with the ladies.”7 Stefani confirmed this; in 2014, they got 250,000 Rp per evening, which is a considerable sum. Dancing tango provides them with additional income; both have stable daytime jobs.8 Stefani stated that of course some of them genuinely like to dance tango, but because of the established taxi dancer system, they make sure they get paid for all of their dancing and will not show up to a milonga without payment. She laconically added: “In a way I understand it, but at the same time, I don’t.”9 As a last point, I want to address another aspect of tango dancing on Bali related to an innerIndonesian economic imbalance. Since 2002, the tango festival “Tango in Paradise” has been organized on Bali by the tango club “Tango Lovers Jakarta.”10 For this large festival, mainly tango dancers from Jakarta fly to Bali to dance and enjoy the surroundings. For them, the “exotic resort” factor is the most prominent reason to come to Bali for dancing. According to several dancers from the Balinese scene, the mostly female tango dancers from Jakarta usually bring their own taxi dancers and do not mingle with local dancers.11 The Jakarta tango crowd is perceived as coming for short holidays in an enclosed luxury resort and then leaving again, as any other standard tourist would do. Compared to this, the non-Indonesian tango scene on Bali suddenly looks very local. Summary and Conclusion The tango argentino community on Bali is composed of expatriates from other Asian countries, America, and Europe. The organizational structure of the tango community on Bali is the same as in tango communities elsewhere in the world with one addition: the taxi dancer phenomenon, which is established in some local dance communities (mainly in Asia) but generally not common in cosmopolitan tango argentino. The Balinese are only a very small part of the tango scene on Bali. Tango dancers on Bali speculate that this is mainly due to the unusual physical closeness in tango, the missing fun in music and dance, and the unfamiliarity with tango argentino music, which causes a difficulty in emotionally relating to it. An economic imbalance between expatriates and the Balinese is less relevant than that between tango dancers from Java and those living on Bali, and it is probably not the reason why the Balinese don’t dance tango. It is possible, 203 KENDRA STEPPUTAT however, that the disinterest in tango argentino arises from the fact that all tango venues are located in tourist areas away from Balinese urban life. I would like to end with the statement that although in general, very few Balinese are drawn to tango, the small but stable expatriate tango argentino scene has become a part of Balinese performing arts practice. Expatriates are a part of the Balinese community, and if they dance tango, it should be considered a part of Balinese, cosmopolitan, contemporary culture. Whether the community will grow and include more people from Bali as wished by currently active tango dancers remains to be seen. Endnotes 1 See the Casa Artista website www.casaartistabali.com (last accessed 9th October 2018). The organizers of the Ubud community moved their milonga location in September 2018. The places in Ubud keep changing over the years and have included the Gana Hotel and Restaurant in Ubud, Menari shared dance space, Rondji Restaurant, and the Hujan Locale. (Personal conversation Kirill Shapran 5th September 2018, also see the “Tango in Ubud, Bali” Facebook page www.facebook.com/groups/TangoInUbud/about/ (last accessed 9th October 2018). 3 Interview with Stefani Kang, 19th July 2014, updated information from http://stefanikang-tango.com (last accessed 9th October 2018). 4 Robert is an Austrian tango dancer who has a small clothing business and lives 3 months a year on Bali. Interview with Robert Jahr, 4th July 2018. 5 All my interview partners were very aware of their own generalizing and speculating; their statements by no means imply that they think the Balinese would not be able to dance tango because of insurmountable cultural differences. On the contrary, their speculations were just a way of trying to understand with the hope of getting more people on Bali—and particularly more men—involved with tango, be they of Balinese or of any other background. 6 Among others, I Wayan Sudirana and Palupi Warananingtyas (informal conversations July 2018). 7 Personal conversation Agus Setiawan, guest relation officer of Tango Bali Club, and an anonymous Javanese tango dancer, 18th July 2014. 8 Stefani added that by now (2018), some taxi dancers are able to make a living of it and have no additional jobs (chat on social media, 11th October 2018). 9 Interview with Stefani Kang, 19th July 2014, updated. 10 http://www.balitangoinparadise.com (last accessed 9th October 2018). 11 Having a personal, male taxi dancer is common in Jakarta social dance venues. 2 References Cara, A. C. (2009). Entangled tangos: Passionate displays, intimate dialogues. The Journal of American Folklore, 122(486), 438-465. Fares, G. (2015). Tango’s elsewhere: Japan. The Journal of the Midwest Modern Language Association, 48(1), 171-192. Link, K. & Wendland, K. (2016). Tracing tangueros: Argentine tango instrumental music. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Stepputat, K. (2011). Tango journeys – Going on a pilgrimage to Buenos Aires. In K. Stepputat (Ed.), Dance, senses, urban contexts: Proceedings of the 29th Symposium of the ICTM Study Group on Ethnochoreology. Herzogenrath: Shaker Verlag. Torp, J. (2007). Alte Atlantische Tangos. Rhythmische Figurationen im Wandel der Zeiten und Kulturen. Hamburg: LIT Verlag. Turino, T. (2008). Music as social life: Politics of participation. London and Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 204 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA THE DANCER’S IMAGE AND THE VISUAL DISCOURSE ON TOURISM AND SUSTAINABILITY IN BALI Elizabeth A. Clendinning Wake Forest University, USA In Bali, images of traditional dancers decorate everything from airport welcome murals to playing cards. The images are common in advertisements for tourists in both the Balinese and international contexts; even browsing the New York Times yields a familiar-looking snapshot of the dancers’ eyes and headdress, used to advertise a whole cruise line. Surveys of visual media items depicting Balinese subjects from the 1930s to the present show the same thing. Images of dancers, mostly female, are everywhere, employed not only in a historical context to attract visitors to Bali, but in the present day to protest commercial development that might impact Balinese culture. This article examines the use of the Balinese dancer’s image as a historically important trope in public discourses about economic, cultural and environmental sustainability in Balinese tourism. Following a brief overview of dance performance in Bali, guided by Kaeppler’s (2010) concept of “the beholder,” I investigate the means through which Balinese dance became a metonym symbolic of Bali, and how the dancers’ image has been deployed both to build the tourist industry and to protest tourist developments viewed by the Balinese as unsustainable. I contrast the image of the Balinese dancer as a historically important trope—one evoked in poster advertisements for Bali and in 20th century fine art interpretations of Balinese culture—with a recent outpouring of depictions of Balinese dancers associated with the Tolak Reklamasi movement, an environmental movement of the 2010s that protested a proposed reclamation of land from Benoa Bay to build upscale tourist facilities. Finally, in dialogue with Lysloff’s (2016) concept of “worlding,” I argue that the Tolak Reklamasi posters constitute a local reclamation of the dancer’s image that brings together multiple levels of discourse about how the dancers are perceived. Dance and Tourism in Bali Dance is an internationally affective art form that may have multiple meanings for those who experience it. Adrienne Kaeppler uses the term “beholder” to refer to everyone who has witnessed a performance and differentiates between the ways that three different types of beholders witness dance (Kaeppler, 2010). Dance performances in Bali, both contemporary and historical, can be understood through Kaeppler’s paradigm. The first category of beholders—gods and ritual supplicants—are a primary audience for dances performed for Balinese Hindu religious rituals, including temple ceremonies. The second—beholders with “communicative competence”—are engaged audience members who “have the music/dance systems in their heads;” in this case, they could be understood to be native Balinese and knowledgeable outsiders. Finally, beholders-as-spectators do not hold the music/dance systems inside their heads; they view performance primarily as spectacle, not as a manifestation of a cultural form. Over the past century, Balinese dance itself and images of Balinese dance as spectacle have served as a means for attracting foreign tourists, now at a rate of over 5 million per year. This image creation for non-Balinese consumption began following the completion of the Dutch conquest of Bali in the 1910s, when specific efforts were made by the government to preserve Balinese Hindu culture as a “living museum.” In the 1920s and 1930s, shortened versions of dance performances held in secular settings at times convenient to travellers began, eventually growing into the significant tourist attractions found in Bali today. The writings and photographs of a new class of European expatriates who largely settled around the Ubud area brought descriptions and images of Balinese life to readers and viewers around the world. Bali became advertised internationally as a paradise destination using advertisements that in many cases featured images of dancers, such as ones from the Legong and the Calonarong dance-dramas. More modest by European standards than other contemporary advertisements for Bali—many of which featured bare-breasted women— these posters captured the female form alternatively as youthful or magical and monstrous, in the case of the depictions of the female witch Rangda. Through their subject matter, bright colours, or accompanying text, they are presented unabashedly as the exotic. 205 ELIZABETH A. CLENDINNING Figure 1. “Advertisement for an Empress of Britain World Cruise” (July, 1938). Following Indonesian independence and the earmarking of Bali as a zone for tourist development under President Suharto’s initial five-year plan, tourism boomed; both local and international constituencies feared that environmental and culture loss would be an inevitable result. However, in the 1970s, LISTIBIYA (The Council for Cultural Consideration and Development) developed a three-part classification system for dances—wali, bebali and bali-balihan; roughly, sacred, semi-sacred and secular—that allocated specific dances to appropriate contexts where they would be viewed by the appropriate types of audiences. Traditional dance performances developed for tourists have in some ways helped sustain Balinese culture by providing incentives to maintain specific artistic forms, as well as providing monetary and other forms of resources to support the continuation of other forms of performing arts (Dunbar-Hall, 2015). In addition to dance performances aimed towards foreign audiences and posters featuring dancers designed to attract them in the first place, art by Balinese-interested Western artists and members of Balinese art schools of the 20th century also capitalized on the image of the dancer, further codifying it as a subject extraordinaire. Dancers were popular representational art styles in works, such as those by Desak Putu Lambon from the 1930s, and were favoured in illustrations and paintings by Mexican artist Miguel Covarrubias and Dutch artist Rudolf Bonnet. Dancers were a featured subject in and continued in post-war works of other artists working within styles of traditional Balinese schools, whose output was directed most centrally towards tourist markets in the 20th century (Vickers, 2012). The portrayals of Balinese dance have served both as a point of cultural and artistic pride and a marketing technique for not only Bali but for Indonesia as a whole. Who uses these images and how is consequential. For example, in 2009, a Balinese Pendet dancer appeared in a television tourism advertisement for Malaysia created by a Singaporean television station. A multi-month furore erupted first over this misrepresentation, then over the perceived lack of a sufficiently sincere apology from the television network and from Malaysian governmental officials. Under the guise of protesting this misrepresentation, antiMalaysian protests took place across Java. Though the tensions were eventually defused, the portrayal of the emblematic Balinese dance remains contested. Posters within the Tolak Reklamasi Movement Within contemporary Bali, images of dancers have been employed not only in tourist advertisements, but also in protest art including posters and t-shirts for the Tolak Reklamasi movement. The movement protested the proposed reclamation of Benoa Bay, a shallow coastal area that in 2011 was designated an environmental buffer zone and green belt area. The project, spearheaded by the corporation PT Tirta Wahana Bali Internasional, would create new land for developing high-end tourism facilities but also displace local 206 THE DANCER’S IMAGE AND THE VISUAL DISCOURSE ON TOURISM AND SUSTAINABILITY IN BALI fisherman and, according to scientific studies, potentially trigger natural disasters. In May 2014, after two years of petitions by different constituencies, Indonesian President Yudhoyono’s presidential decree 51/2014 reclassified the shallow underwater zone as available for “revitalization” by business, which officially allowed for the implementation of the new development to begin. The reaction to this proclamation came swiftly, spearheaded by the organization Forum Rakyat Bali Tolak Reklamasi (ForBALI), which began to coordinate both political and social action in August 2013. The organization consisted of institutions and individuals who care about the environment and believed that the reclamation project is “a step towards the destruction of Bali.” Their website, ForBALI.org, offered information and updates on the development and protests, providing a resource not only for locals but also interested individuals who have been following the movement from afar. Visual and performing artists have played a significant role in the movement through live performances, creating images and giving interviews. The protest artists active in Tolak Reklamasi have been eclectic in their forms of expression, employing everything from the pop-styled “Tolak Reklamasi Song” to performing gamelan beleganjur and kecak at demonstrations to undergoing extreme performance art, such as the 2014 piece in which artist Made Bayak was symbolically buried under soil dumped from a backhoe. Unlike previous generations of protest artists, however, the ability to move content online to individual websites and social media has provided a global reach to their voices. Poster art has become a particularly visible medium with designs both posted in Bali and available online. The posters of Tolak Reklamasi feature a widely diverse set of artistic styles and subjects. However, a frequently recurring subject is that of the traditional Balinese dancer. Though some designs are neutraltoned, primary colours plus green dominate the artwork. Dancers, including those from legong and topeng dalem dances, are depicted with their faces symbolically aged or destroyed by symbols of development projects. Currency signs, especially the dollar sign, appear as recurrent symbols of commercial corruption— in one case dropping as bombs behind a dancer’s face in profile. The crane and hammer repeat as motifs signifying development with the crane often portrayed as menacing each posters’ main figure, and the hammer employed in self-defence. In yet another poster, the baris tunggal warrior dancer raises a hammer where he would usually have an open hand; his arm, raised in the traditional agem dance position, also presents a palm-forward “stop” gesture, warding off potential destruction. Figure 2. “Tolak Reklamasi poster featuring a Baris Dancer” (Ambara, 2015) Retrieved from https://posteraksi.org/ Ambara’s Perspectives The posters for Tolak Reklamasi were often portrayed without attribution, making it difficult to track which artists have created what. However, one of the central figures of the graphic representations is Alit Ambara, 207 ELIZABETH A. CLENDINNING a Balinese poster artist who has produced over 800 posters in the past twenty years and whose design is printed on the most popular Tolak Reklamasi t-shirts. A graduate of the Jakarta Arts Institute and Savannah School of Arts and Design, Ambara began designing political posters in the mid-1990s at the time of the overthrow of President Suharto. Since then, his artwork has represented several Indonesian environmental and social justice movements, including Tolak Reklamasi, as well as the Occupy Wall Street movement and the Arab Spring. His works feature a variety of artistic styles and images, including current internationally recognized symbols of resistance such as the raised fist and the Guy Fawkes mask. Ambara shares his works freely under a creative commons license at nobodycorp.org and posteraksi.org, meaning that the images can be used and shared without need to gain copyright clearance. The website features eighteen of his posters for the Tolak Reklamasi movement, including several that depict dancers. Ambara explains that he has not intended for his work to be in dialogue with other, specific historical images of dancers; that he combines styles based primarily on feeling, rather than association with different historical artistic schools that have left visible footprints in his work. Because images of dancers have become instantly identifiable symbols of Bali through their repeated use by outsiders and the Balinese alike, they are also effectively employed to symbolize the threat to Bali and the corresponding resistance of the Balinese people. The baris dancer is particularly effective, he says, since its warrior image urges people to melawan dan menang—to fight and win. While live and recorded performances effectively capture and disseminate the aims of the movement, Ambara notes that the posters are important because “Posters are easy to make and distribute. [They are] an attractive, easily accessible platform for expressing the mind, engaging people in debates, and creating discussions that can traverse the entire spectrum of society” (A. Ambara, personal communication, June 26, 2018). The distribution of these images locally was crucial to spreading the word about the protest and as a way of showing support. However, the widespread distribution of the posters online added an additional layer to the discourse, since non-Balinese viewers were able to understand the movements’ concerns. Though close analysis of each of these works could reveal specific artistic and social themes that would speak to individuals knowledgeable about global art history and/or Balinese dance, the symbology also can speak to viewers who behold them as spectators. The Balinese traditional dancer, iconic symbol of Bali, opposes internationally recognizable symbols for commercial development and environmental destruction. Conclusions In writing about musical culture in Jogjakarta, T.A. Rene Lysloff coins the term “worlding” to describe the process by which two young performing artists of his acquaintance reinterpret and even defy preconceived categories of traditional and modern, classical and popular, local and global. Lysloff’s protagonists are acutely aware of ways in which local cultural practices have been employed and exploited on a global stage. They have kept current with contemporary technology, social and artistic discourses as employed by their original creators. But, rather than “globalization” acting upon them, they have taken active control of these symbols and means of communication, dialectally communicating against forces that would seek to pigeonhole their artistic practices. The same could be said for Balinese artists portraying dancers. Through early and mid-20th century depictions of Balinese dance, certain dances have attained visually symbolic status, capable of signifying “Bali” simply through their evocation. Yet, though many depictions of these dances are meant to attract tourists, their deployment in protest art demonstrates how local artists also employ the multiple associations that the dancers’ image has form internationally affective forms of visual protest. The free distribution of poster images further accelerates both local and global awareness of the issue. On August 26, 2018, PT Tirta Wahana Bali Internasional’s license to reclaim and develop parts of Benoa Bay expired. The governor-elect of Bali declared the project to be dead due to overwhelming concerns about its environmental and economic impact; he specifically cited the rampant protests as a reason for this decision. Though protest posters depicting dancers may begin to be removed from Balinese streets, Balinese culture as depicted by the dancers’ image continues to be preserved. References [Advertisement for an Empress of Britain world cruise]. (July, 1938). Fortune Magazine, 7, 19. Ambara, A. (2015). [Tolak Reklamasi poster featuring a baris dancer]. Retrieved from https://posteraksi.org/. 208 THE DANCER’S IMAGE AND THE VISUAL DISCOURSE ON TOURISM AND SUSTAINABILITY IN BALI Dunbar-Hall, P. (2016). Balinese gamelan: Continual innovation, community engagement, and links to spirituality as drivers for sustainability. In C. Grant & H. Schippers (Eds.), Sustainable futures for music cultures: An ecological perspective (pp. 145-178). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kaeppler, A. L. (2010). The beholder’s share: Viewing music and dance in a globalized world (Charles Seeger Lecture presented at the 51st Annual Meeting of the Society for Ethnomusicology, 2006, Honolulu). Ethnomusicology, 54(2), 185-201. doi:10.5406/ethnomusicology.54.2.0185 Lysloff, R. T. A. (2016). Worlding music in Jogjakarta: Tales of the global postmodern. Ethnomusicology, 60(3), 484-507. doi:10.5406/ethnomusicology.60.3.0484 Vickers, A. (2012). Balinese art: Paintings and drawings of Bali 1800-2010. North Clarendon: Tuttle Publishing. 209 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA WHO ARE THE COMMUNITIES INVOLVED IN INTANGIBLE CULTURAL HERITAGE? A CONSIDERATION OF THE “BEAUTIFUL INDONESIA MINIATURE PARK” PROPOSAL AS BEST PRACTICE (Lightning Paper) Yukako Yoshida Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, Japan Introduction The Beautiful Indonesia Miniature Park (Taman Mini Indonesia Indah, hereinafter TMII) is a theme park located on the outskirts of Jakarta. It was opened under the leadership of President Suharto and his wife in 1975. The idea was to make a miniature version of Indonesia. Each province has a pavilion in TMII, and each pavilion houses a traditional building that represents the cultural richness of the province. Inside, handicrafts and traditional costumes are exhibited, and performing arts are staged. Visitors learn about the diversity and richness of their own country’s culture, religion, natural environment, and technology. In 2014, the Republic of Indonesia proposed TMII for inclusion in the Register of Best Safeguarding Practices for intangible cultural heritage (hereinafter ICH). However, the proposal was not approved by the UNESCO Intergovernmental Committee. Taking this case as an example, this paper discusses the problematic concept of “community” with regard to ICH and the difficulty in identifying or defining it. “The Register of Best Safeguarding Practices for ICH” is a list of safeguarding practices that the intergovernmental committee considers to best reflect the principles and objectives of the convention of ICH.1 The convention emphasizes that communities involved in ICH should participate voluntarily in safeguarding activities to prevent these activities from being simply imposed by the state or scholars. Considering the spirit of the convention, one might think that it is a strange idea to propose this politically charged urban theme park as best practice. This paper considers this proposal’s background by focusing on Indonesian reasoning and circumstances. Further, the case of Balinese dance is examined to review the actual transmission of ICH at TMII. These discussions clarify that the matter of the identity of the community involved in ICH is not as simple as one might assume. The Committee’s Perspective For the committee, the main reason for not including this park in the best practice list was the “decontextualization” of heritage. The TMII program was criticized as being “oriented mainly to tourists and visitors … rather than towards strengthening transmission within communities” (Examination of proposals, 2014, p. 8). Citing the spirit of the convention, the committee repeatedly stressed the importance of the participation of the community and criticized Taman Mini for lacking this participation. Two questions arise from this committee’s discussion: Who are the members of a community and what are its boundaries? The Indonesian Perspective on the Concept of “Community” The Indonesian proposers’ perspective on the concept of community is actually very different from that of the committee. In the proposal, they repeatedly insist that the practice in this park is led by heritage-bearing communities. However, at the same time, they use the word “community” in an inconsistent and ambiguous way. In some parts, “community” means everybody involved in the park, including visitors and staff, as well as related ministries and agencies (e.g. Nomination file, 2014, section G). In other parts, the word refers to the ethnic groups represented in each pavilion (e.g. Nomination file, 2014, section 1.a). Further, the term “local community” is used to refer specifically to nearby residents who visit the park often (Nomination file, 2014, section 6). To understand these inconsistencies and ambiguities, it would be helpful to recall the history of Indonesian nation-building and Anderson’s idea of “imagined communities” (Anderson, 1991). After its independence in 1945, this country struggled to unite a population made up of hundreds of different ethnic groups, and to create a national culture. Taman Mini was an outcome of efforts to resolve these problems. By showcasing the range of ICH in a harmonious way, it encourages Indonesian citizens to understand cultural diversity and to “imagine” their harmonious co-existence. In a sense, Indonesia is creating a community by 210 WHO ARE THE COMMUNITIES INVOLVED IN INTANGIBLE CULTURAL HERITAGE? A CONSIDERATION OF THE “BEAUTIFUL INDONESIA MINIATURE PARK” PROPOSAL AS BEST PRACTICE utilizing their ICH. By contrast, the committee simply assumes an existing community with a definite boundary and the transmission of ICH within it. Figure 1. Different ways of conceptualizing “community”. (Chart prepared by the author) Transmission of ICH in Taman Mini: The Case of Balinese Dance When we consider Balinese dance, the identification of the “community” becomes even more complex. For example, the Dutch colonial government’s cultural policy, the rise of international tourism, and the intervention of foreign artists have all significantly influenced the preservation and invention of Balinese dance. With regard to Balinese dance, many shows, workshops, and competitions are held in TMII. In addition, several dance lessons are regularly held in Balinese pavilions. These lessons bring a joyous mood to the pavilion, and sometimes tourists visiting the pavilion join the lessons. While the committee criticized TMII as tourism oriented, this kind of occasional participation by tourists is not rare in lessons on the island of Bali. However, there are some differences between the dance lessons held at TMII and those in Bali.2 Let me introduce three of them: (1) Reflecting the religious composition of Jakarta, the majority of the participants are mostly girls who are Muslims with various ethnic backgrounds. (2) Balinese dance is reinterpreted in order to make it more acceptable and accessible to non-Hindu people. For example, the dance called pendet involves movements that replicate Hindu prayer. To teach non-Hindu learners, an instructor of TMII interprets this movement. He told me that the motion is not taught as a prayer but as a symbol for collecting knowledge and passing it to others. It is also important to note, however, that the Balinese dance taught in Taman Mini is not completely detached from the Balinese Hindu context. The instructors often invite non-Hindu learners to dance in Hindu temple festivals held in and around Taman Mini. Through this type of learning, people are partly introduced to Balinese Hindu culture and eventually to Balinese Hindu communities in Jakarta. (3) The characteristics of Balinese dance movements are sometimes explained and understood in terms of their difference from other traditional dances in Indonesia. For example, the quick and energetic movements of Balinese dance are often contrasted to the slow movements of Javanese dance. Instructors, learners, and their parents are familiar with the various traditional dances showcased in this park. These people compare them, relate to them, and find similarities and differences between them. Furthermore, people in TMII told me that if a person masters Balinese dance, they can easily learn other dances as well. In this respect, a Balinese dance lesson offers a kind of basic or necessary skill not only for Balinese dance but also a wide range of dances that have been developed in this country. Conclusion: Dance Practice in TMII and Community Formation The way people practice and transmit Balinese ICH in TMII is not the same as that in Bali. Inside of this park, there are no “local communities” in the conventional sense. Rather, in the Indonesian context, ICH is utilized as a source of imagination about and creation of the “community” (meaning the nation state). The case of the Balinese dance lesson suggests that in this park, dance functions as a medium that connects people, relates them to cultural others, and introduces them to the wider range of ICH that this country has developed. 211 YUKAKO YOSHIDA The focus of this paper is not to insist that TMII should have been included in the list of best safeguarding practice. However, it is still important to keep in mind that the way an ICH is related to a community can be different in each case and is changeable over time. Endnotes 1 Although the list is now called “good practice” rather than “best practice,” the principle aims and conditions for registration remain the same. 2 Some parts of my discussion in section 4 were recently published with some details of these differences in Yoshida (2018, pp. 84-87). References Anderson, B. (1991). Imagined communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism. London & New York: Verso. Examination of proposals. (2014). Examination of proposals to the register of best safeguarding practices. (ITH/14/9.COM/9.b) Ninth session UNESCO Headquarters. Retrieved from http://www.unesco. org/culture/ich/doc/src/ITH-14-9.COM-9.b+Add.-EN.doc Nomination file. (2014). Nomination file no.00621 for Inscription on the Registration of Best Safeguarding Practices 2014. Retrieved from http://www.unesco.org/culture/ich/doc/download.php?versionID =30277 Yoshida, Y. (2018). Balinese dances in multi-religious Jakarta: A preliminary study of Muslim learners and Hindu instructors. In T. Hideo & T. Ikuya (Eds.), Islam and cultural diversity in Southeast Asia (Vol.2) (pp.77-89). Tokyo: ILCAA Tokyo University of Foreign Studies. 212 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA BASANG TUNDUN: COMPOSITIONAL CONCEPT IN BALINESE GAMELAN (Lightning Paper) I Wayan Diana Putra Indonesian Institute of Arts, Indonesia Introduction Basang Tundun is a term in Balinese gamelan that represents a musical phrase or palet. Basang literally means the abdomen, and it is analogous as the front part of the melody, while tundun means the back of human body that represents the back (ending) part of the melody. The basang and tundun are two distinct parts, but they constitute a whole musical framework, as the abdomen and the back body as important elements of the human body part. Sukerta states that basang-tundun (or also called mebasang-metundun) is usually directly translated as “the front and the back” (1998, p. 105). The concept of Basang Tundun constitutes the unity of the melodic phrase. It is also a melodic dialog between the beginning part and the ending part of the melodic phrase. In terms of the colotomic structure, Balinese traditional melodies are usually divided into two parts that represent intentional direction: nyujuh kemong or reaching the kemong (the smallest gong played at the middle of the melody, and nyujuh gong or reaching the gong (the large gong played as the ending of the cyclical gong unit). The nyujuh kemong part is associated with the question sentence,’ and the nyujuh gong is the answering sentence. At the practical level, the concept of basang tundung is used by musicians to memorize the plot of any given melodic phrases. The system is the conscious understanding of the two melodic divisions of the question and the answering sentences. Therefore, the long melodic phrases will be remembered with ease. Basang tundun concept can also be placed as the scheme of melodic formation; the basang and tundun parts are the smaller scale of the melodic entity’s larger scale. In other words, the basang and tundun is the unit of the melodic phrase. This melodic unit, with the intentional direction of nyujuh kemong placed at the beginning and nyujuh gong placed at the ending, then constitutes the unity of the larger-scale melodic phrase. In the compositional context, basang tundun is used to sort out the compositional direction of the scheme. This method is to form the middle and ending directions of the intended tonality. The intention for tonality is strongly based upon the concept of basang tundun in order to produce more varieties of thoughtfully organized melodic phrases. The beginning part (basang) introduces the intended direction that will later be answered “correctly” at the ending part. Basang tundun is used to construct a melody within the framework. The working system of basang tundun in constructing the melody will be examined using three tools: one is analysis it is used to understand compositional methodology. Second is semiotics which is a science of signs (Ricoeur, 2012, p. 30) and is used here to examine the colotomic structure. And the third tool is hermeneutics. Hermeneutics/hermeneuein is the science of interpretation (Sumaryono, 1999, p. 23) and it is used to interpret the function of the compositional method of basang tundun. Legod Bawa, as the object of analysis, is one of the Balinese melodic forms that is used as an analytical object. It is selected to prove the function of the basang tundun concept in composition, more specifically in constructing the melody. Its colotomic working system is similar to dividing two units, such as in basang tundun. Table 1. Gending Legod Bawa from I WM. Madra Aryasa . u . e . u . e . u . o . u . e . U . I . U . U . U . A . u . A . o . o . i . o . e . i . a . i . u . a . u . a + a √ u + e ( ) u 213 I WAYAN DIANA PUTRA The Function the Basang Tundun’s Concept in the Form of Gending Legod Bawa The first function of basang tundun is dividing the melodic phrase into two: the first half is called nyujuh kemong (reaching the kemong/the smallest gong played a half-length of the melody), and the second half is nyujuh gong (reaching the gong as a final cadence). This arrangement makes a clear perception and intention of the melodic progression. The second function of basang tundun is to construct the tonal direction of each eight-beat melody that is marked by the colotomic instruments (the kempur, kemong and gong). For instance, if we take a look at the last sixteen-beat as shown in the slide, we will see the first line is a melody reaching the kempur, and the second line is a melody reaching the gong (final cadence). The questions that emerged: how do we know which notes are selected? Are they selected randomly? Or is there a particular system is selecting the notes? The notes are selected based on the basang tundun directional concept. For example, in the traditional melody of Legod Bawa (quoted from Madra Aryasa’s book “pengetahuan karawitan”), we can see the concept of upper and lower neighbour progression. The last note of the first eight beat (or the kempur note) is e (deng), and the note on beat four (the jegogan note) is u (dung). The progression from u (dung) to e (deng) shows the progression to the lower neighbour note. The progression from e (deng/the kempur note) to a (dang/the second jegogan note) is called nelu (a note progression leaping one note). And last, the progression from a (dang/second jegogan note) to u (dung/the gong note) is a progression to the lower neighbour note. Traditionally, we can see two options in selecting the notes used on each division: one is upper and lower neighbour notes, and two is nelu or leaping one note (going up or down). In addition to this, there is another option in selecting the note based on the basang tundun concept: it is called ngempat, or it literally means “four”, and its progression is leaping two notes (going up or down). Forming the character of the melody is becoming clear, for example: the character of ngubeng and mejalan, and the combination of the two. Ngubeng is a melody that stays on one note (stasis), and mejalan is a melody that moves from one note to another (linear). In the example shown in the slide, the character of the melody is ngubeng, mejalan, ngubeng mejalan, and mejalan. The Structure of Gending is Easy to Arrange ‘Gending structure’ is a groove and a system in a gending. Structure is a sequence that should be directed. The structure is the basis for the preparation of a gending. As with the concept of basang tundun, with a system of punctuation signs, the gending structure can be arranged through several stages: 1. Step 1: constructing a gong note 2. Step 2: deciding the kemong note based on the gong note 3. Step 3: selecting the first kempul note 4. Step 4: selecting the second kempul note The next step is selecting notes every beat four on each line. In other words, we are diving each line into two. The selection of the notes on beat four of each line is using the concept of the upper or lower neighbour note, and is based on the selected final note on each line. The last step is filling the notes on the empty beats (beats 1 – 3 and beats 5 – 7). The common system used in selecting these notes is the concept of ngubeng and mejalan. Traditionally, ngubeng is used first, and mejalan is the concept after ngubeng. Conclusion By using the concept of basang tundun, hence the activity of composing a melody becomes directed and much easier by focusing on the parts and the overall flow of the melody. This becomes a formula for composing a traditional melody in a dialogical form with systemic flow and scheme. It also gives the composer guidelines on to how to make melodic character, and makes it easier to know punctuation positions. Within this dividing technique, forming a melodic progression within the colotomic system becomes easier. 214 BASANG TUNDUN: COMPOSITIONAL CONCEPT IN BALINESE GAMELAN References Aryasa, I. W. M. (1984/1985). Pengetahuan karawitan Bali. Diterbitkan oleh Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan Direktorat Jendral Kebudayaan Proyek Pengembangan Kesenian Bali. Denpasar: Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan Direktorat Jendral Kebudayaan Provinsi Bali. Rahardjo, H. M. (2008). Dasar-dasar hermeneutika, antara intensionalisme & gadamerian. Jogjakarta: ARRUZZ Media. Ricoeur, P. (2012). Teori interpretasi. Jogjakarta: IRCiSoD. Sumaryono, E. (1999). Hermeneutik, sebuah metode filsafat. Edisi revisi. Sukerta, P. M. (1998). Ensiklopedi karawitan Bali. Penyunting F. X. Widaryanto, Diterbitkan atas kerjasama Masyarakat Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia dengan The Ford Foundation. Bandung: Sastrataya-MSPI. 215 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA REASSEMBLING MUSICAL HERITAGE: THE AGENCY OF WAYAN PANDE TUSAN AND GAMELAN SELONDING CULTURE IN BALI (Lightning Paper) Akiko Nozawa University of Michigan, USA This article highlights the increasing agency of local ethnomusicological practice through the case of independent researcher Wayan Pande Tusan and his influence on gamelan Selonding culture in Bali. The focal point is the restoration of Selonding instruments and its contextualization at Besakih temple as part of a reshaping of cultural identity in response to globalization. Gamelan Selonding and the Study by Wayan Pande Tusan Selonding is an older form of gamelan played primarily for ritual occasions. The ensemble consists of a set of metallophones made of iron, while other gamelans are made of bronze. Since Indonesia’s colonial period, Selonding has been described by foreign researchers as a sacred and rare ensemble particular to the indigenous Balinese communities termed Bali Aga (Kunst, 1968, p. 78; Tenzer, 1991, p. 93; Dibia & Ballinger, 2004, p. 28). However, a cross-investigation by Wayan Pande Tusan brought a new perspective to such prevailing discourse. Tusan is an independent Balinese researcher who has sustained an interest in Selonding since his childhood as a descendant of blacksmiths (pande besi). He started his research in 1992 and published a comprehensive study in 2001, which is titled SELONDING: Tinjauan Gamelan Bali Kuna, Abad X – XIV (Selonding: A study of the classic Balinese gamelan from the 10th to the 14th century). While he is not a professional scholar, Tusan’s skills as a local researcher provide us with a vast amount of field data documenting an amazing variety of local Selonding instruments differing in size, number, and scale tones (Tusan, 2001). In addition, Tusan identifies 61 sites related to Selonding, which can be classified into five categories (Figure 1): A) Usable instruments, B) Remains of instruments, C) Historical records, D) Oral information, E) Artificial or natural sites named ‘Selonding.’ Interestingly, when compared to the distribution map of Bali Aga presented by Thomas Reuter (Reuter, 2002, pp. 32-33), less than half of the sites belong to the so-called Bali Aga.1 Tusan also avoids using the term Bali Aga in his book and, as the title represents, he concludes that Selonding prevailed from the 10th to the 14th centuries according to the years of origin noted in local manuscripts. The Revival of Selonding at Besakih Temple Tusan also had a significant influence on Selonding culture through his ethnomusicological practice; namely, the restoration of Selonding instruments at Besakih temple. Besakih temple was built in the 9th century and is the centre of Balinese Hinduism. Over the centuries, Besakih developed a complicated ritual culture supported by local communities. However, at the beginning of the 1970s, a team from Bali Museum found hundreds of Selonding keys kept in a small temple, Pura Melajang Selonding, at Besakih. Tusan reports that a team from Denpasar restored some of the keys in 1979 but the instrument was left unused thereafter (Tusan, 2001, p. 210). 216 REASSEMBLING MUSICAL HERITAGE: THE AGENCY OF WAYAN PANDE TUSAN AND GAMELAN SELONDING CULTURE IN BALI In light of this situation, Tusan launched a project in 1991 to revive Selonding culture at Besakih. As he explains in his book (Tusan, 2001, pp. 207-243), after obtaining approval from the Besakih priests, he organized a team of Balinese scholars to restore Selonding instruments, ultimately producing two sets. Then, in 1993, they realized the first performance of the restored Selonding in a large ceremony at Besakih called Karya Tri Bhuwana. Through this process, it could be said that the agency of Wayan Pande Tusan reshaped the Selonding culture at Besakih not only by restoring the instruments but also by contextualizing them into ritual practice. The development aftermath is noteworthy as well. At the beginning of this century, Tusan organized an NPO, ‘Yayasan Selonding,’ in collaboration with a private Selonding group in Denpasar, Mekar Bhuana, which was founded by a man from New Zealand and a Balinese woman. Significantly, this group took over the Selonding performance at Besakih that was established by Tusan’s group in 1993.2 Today, thanks to their continuous dedication, Selonding is becoming a part of Besakih’s culture as ritual music for the annual ceremonies (e.g. Batara Turun Kabeh). As background to this Selonding revival, it is beneficial to refer to Tusan’s motivation, as communicated to me via interview (see Nozawa, 2017): ‘The fact that the discourse on Selonding has been constructed by foreign scholars actually fired my passion to promote deep understanding on Selonding, because it is Balinese people who must know what Selonding is.’ However, though Tusan was motivated to articulate Balinese identity via Selonding as a symbolic medium, his book presents sufficient references to past studies by foreign scholars. It also presents his own data and interpretation seen in his attitude to developing Selonding by cooperation with local, national, and global networks. Tusan’s activities could thus be defined as reconstructions of the past within global interactions, which are reminiscent of Michel Picard’s argument on the consistent Balinese recasting of cultural identity ‘in response to the colonialization, the Indonesianization, and the touristification’ (Picard, 1999, p. 21). Conclusion In the colonial period, western scholars interpreted Selonding as a part of Bali Aga culture. Globalization in the late 20th century, in turn, generated various local agencies who reconstructed alternative values of Selonding as Balinese cultural heritage in the present, as represented by Tusan’s activity. Considering the increasing number of Selonding groups in Bali today,3 it could be said that Wayan Pande Tusan played a crucial role in expanding the cultural meaning of Selonding from ‘Bali Aga’s tradition’ to ‘Balinese identity’ by embodying a conceptual shift that integrated three elements: place (Besakih), material (Selonding keys), and practice (ritual performance). 217 AKIKO NOZAWA Acknowledgement This research was supported by JSPS KAKENHI Grant Number15K02104. This article is presented upon approval by Mr. Wayan Pande Tusan (August, 2017). The author thanks Mr. Tusan and his family for their sincere cooperation with this research. Endnotes 1 The validity of defining Bali Aga as ‘indigenous’ or ‘pre-Hindu’ culture remains tenuous, with Brigitta Hauser-Schaublin criticizing Reuter’s description of Bali Aga as a society enclosed from other Hinduized societies (Hauser-Schäublin, 2004, p. 321). 2 This group also transmits their Selonding activity to the world through their website and by uploading videos of their performances on YouTube (eg. https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=nBL24L6jhUw&t=7s). 3 With the emergence of ‘Selonding replica’ and cassettes/CDs in the 1980s, a new Selonding culture was generated in Bali; especially in the south-central area (Nozawa, 2017). The number of new Selonding groups has increased rapidly since the late 1990s, adopting Selonding music into various contexts: temple festivals, wedding ceremonies, and family rituals for ancestors. References Dibia, I. W. & Ballinger, R. (2004). Balinese dance, drama and music. Singapore: Periplus Editions. Hauser-Schäublin, B. (2004). Austronesian aboriginality or the ritual organization of the state? A controversy on the political dimension of temple networks in early Bali. History and Anthropology, 15(4), 317344. Kunst, J. (1968). Hindu-Javanese musical instruments. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff. Nozawa, A. (2017). Beyond the value of reproduction: The imagined revival of the sacred gamelan Selonding in Bali, Indonesia. In P. Matusky & W. Quintero (Eds.), Proceedings of the 4th Symposium: The ICTM Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (pp. 211-215). Penang: Universiti Sains Malaysia. Picard, M. (1999). The discourse of kebalian: Transcultural constructions of Balinese identity. In R. Rubinstein & L. H. Connor (Eds.), Staying local in the global village. Bali in the twentieth century (pp. 15-49). Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Reuter, T. A. (2002). The house of our ancestors: Precedence and dualism in highland Balinese society. Leiden: KITLV Press. Tenzer, M. (1991) Balinese music. Washington, WA: University of Washington. Tusan, I. W. P. (2001). SELONDING: Tinjauan gamelan Bali kuna abad X－XIV. CV. Denpasar: Karya Sastra. 218 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ROUNDTABLE: THE MALAY SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) IN TRANSITION: SUSTAINABILITY/VIABILITY OF A TRADITIONAL MALAYSIAN PERFORMING ART IN THE 21ST CENTURY INTRODUCTION TO THE ROUNDTABLE PRESENTATIONS AND DEMONSTRATION Patricia Matusky National Academy of Arts, Culture & Heritage (ASWARA), Malaysia The shadow play in Malaysia, as part of the Southeast Asian shadow puppet tradition, features the use of small-sized puppets, a single puppet master (dalang) who is puppet manipulator and story teller, and a music ensemble. In Peninsular Malaysia the shadow puppet theatre is a very old folk tradition with two distinct styles known and documented by scholars (Sweeney, 1972), which are the wayang kulit gedek in the northwest coast state of Kedah, and the wayang kulit Kelantan (formerly called Wayang Siam) originating in the northeast state of Kelantan. Today, with the passing away of the last puppeteer in Kedah the wayang kulit gedek has ceased to be performed, but the wayang kulit Kelantan style is still active. The focus of this roundtable discussion, the wayang kulit Kelantan, is a theatrical existing in a folk tradition, in which the puppeteers from the state of Kelantan trace their lineage back through many generations. The wayang kulit Kelantan was extremely popular and flourished throughout the northern Malaysian states (Kelantan, Kedah, Perak) and southward along the east coast of the Peninsula (Terengganu and Pahang) from at least the late 19th century until about the 1970s (Sweeney, 1972). However, as performed by professional puppeteers, today its distribution is mainly limited to the state of Kelantan, and even there the performances have severely decreased and the form is seen in a state of serious decline (for many social, political and cultural reasons). This roundtable presentation acknowledges the endangerment of the shadow play tradition but more importantly examines the possible sustainability and viability (and ‘vitality’; Grant, 2004, p. 11) of this type of theatre, puppets, stories and music in the second decade of the 21st century. The five presenters in this roundtable represent a range of approaches in studying and performing this traditional theatre form. They will attempt to put forward their views on the ways in which a shadow play tradition can sustain its theatrical medium as ‘shadow play’ in the 21st century, and at the same time be vital and viable in developing new stories, making new puppet characters and composing new music that appeals to the sensibilities of 21st century Malaysian audiences. While the historical aspects of the shadow play are important and have been documented with regard to stories, puppets, medium of performance, puppeteers and music (Sweeney, 1972; Ghulam Sarwar, 1994, 1997; Matusky, 1980, 1993), the speakers and the Tok Dalang Pak Dain in this roundtable are specifically addressing not only sustainability which considers the heritage and historical aspects of the form coming forward in the 21st century, but more importantly the viability and vitality, and perhaps a ‘creative regeneration’ (Grant, 2004, p. 11) of the art form in relation to contemporary society in Malaysia in the 21st century, whether it be in the urban, suburban or village context. This roundtable will present (a) some background on the late 19th and 20th century style of the wayang kulit Kelantan (Patricia Matusky), (b) developments in wayang kulit music using digital technology (Hamdan Adnan), (c) recent developments in early 21st century stylistic features of this theatrical form (Christine Yong), (d) design and production of new puppet characters (Tintoy Chuo), and finally (e) a short performance of an episode from a story adapted from a global perspective demonstrating the use of a new story, new puppet characters, and the use of new technical projections and dimension on the shadow play screen (Dalang Pak Dain bin Othman). 219 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ROUNDTABLE: THE MALAY SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) IN TRANSITION: SUSTAINABILITY/VIABILITY OF A TRADITIONAL MALAYSIAN PERFORMING ART IN THE 21ST CENTURY THE 20TH CENTURY STYLE OF WAYANG KULIT KELANTAN Patricia Matusky National Academy of Arts, Culture & Heritage (ASWARA), Malaysia In an attempt to establish a pattern and style of wayang kulit Kelantan in the 20th century, comments on the style of this shadow play emerge from a reflexive perspective, based on my practice-based research and participant-observation experience with this theatre form and especially its music four decades ago (1975present) in the field in Kelantan. My comments are also based on observations in the late 20th and early 21st centuries in revisits to the same field research site (and to additional urban sites) in an attempt to understand the condition of the art form today. In the process of watching and examining this theatrical form for nearly 4 decades, in effect I have done an ethnographic revisit in the reflexive sense. And, as sociologists and anthropologists have noted that “…when we ‘revisit’…our purpose is…to understand and explain variation [and change], in particular to comprehend difference over time” (Burawoy, 2003, pp. 646-647). While we know place and condition of the wayang kulit Kelantan in past times, we also know that changes and contestations in Malaysian societal, economic and political thinking have occurred over the past three decades, that have seriously affected this and other traditional musical-theatrical arts in the country. We can note political and social changes in the state itself (i.e., the state of Kelantan) to which the wayang kulit Kelantan has strong ties, and we can also observe influences of outside hegemonies that affect local and national changes. These influences are substantial and require another research paper focusing on the sociological, economic and political changes that have occurred over the past three to four decades in the said state and country as a whole. This roundtable discussion, however, focuses only on the performative aspects of the specific shadow play as noted above. As a performative genre, the essential elements of the wayang kulit are: 1) the theatrical conventions such as special staging, use of a white screen (kelir) on which shadows are cast, and a lit hanging lamp between the screen and the puppeteer for casting the puppet shadows on the screen, 2) the drama or verbal expression and enactment of the story, 3) the puppet itself representing many kinds of creatures (both human and animal types), 4) the movements or gestures of the puppet bodies—considering how and when they move and, 5) the music ensemble and musical pieces, both vocal and instrumental that accompany the puppet movements. To establish a ‘bench mark’ for the style of this shadow play in the 20th century, including its theatrical conventions and style of shadow play dating from at least the early 20th century, I would like to briefly note some aspects of its 20th century style based on my field research, focusing on the performance style of a renowned puppeteer, the Late Tok Dalang Hamzah Awang Mat (1940-2001) and his style of wayang kulit from the 1960s to the time of his passing away. In addition, it is important to note that the Tok Dalang Hamzah’s style originates from his teacher/guru (the Late Tok Dalang Awang Lah, d. 1972-73) whose style of shadow play dates from the very early 20th century when Awang Lah was a young dalang. 20th Century Conventions of the Kelantan Shadow Play The wayang kulit stage is a small building built about 3 to 4 feet above the ground consisting of 3 solid walls and a 4th open wall that is filled with a white screen (kelir) slanted slightly toward the audience who watches the show from outside the small building. The stage building holds all the puppets, two banana tree trunks placed parallel to and at the base of the white screen used to hold the puppets during performance, the dalang who is seated on the floor at mid-screen, and the music ensemble of 7 instruments with 7 or 8 musicians. A small lamp hangs between the screen and the puppeteer slightly lower than mid-screen and the puppets are operated between the lamp and screen to cast shadows on the screen (see Figure 1). The musicians sit directly behind the dalang so that they see all the physical movements of the puppets on the screen as well as hear all the cues for music as given by the dalang. 220 THE 20TH CENTURY STYLE OF WAYANG KULIT KELANTAN Figure 1. The dalang moves the puppets between the lamp and screen (kelir) during a wayang kulit Kelantan performance. (Photo: P. Matusky) The Stories Dating from ancient times, the main ‘trunk’ story was a modified version of the Ramayana epic, originally a Hindu epic from India but modified greatly in Southeast Asia by puppeteers throughout the region. As modified in the Malay wayang kulit Kelantan theatre, it was known as the Cerita Maharaja ‘Wana (The Tale of the King Rawana). However, the more popular stories were the branch (or ranting) tales, using many of the puppets from the Story of the King Rawana, but with episodes centring on different characters, situations and events not from the trunk story. A good example is a branch story that Tok Dalang Hamzah performed often—a tale entitled ‘Kerak Nasi’ (‘A Crust of Rice’), featuring the two clown-servants named Pak Dogol and Wak Long and their antics as they try to scrape and eat the burnt rice from the bottom of a cooking pot, and in the process they make so much noise they wake up their King (Seri Rama) who was taking a nap. Rama the King annoyed with them, banishes them to the forest but they eventually get back at him in various ways and become re-instated in the palace (see further Ghulam Sarwar, 1994, pp. 304-305). Puppet Characters and Design Throughout the 20th century, a typical set of puppets numbered around 60 or so which would include all the main characters for the main ‘trunk’ story (noted earlier) and also for the branch stories (Sweeney, 1972; Ghulam Sarwar, 1994, 1997). Some of the usual characters are the Pokok Beringen (tree of life)—a highly important puppet used to begin and end the shadow play. When it first appears and moves on the screen it is said to awaken the wayang kulit universe, and when it is replaced on the screen at the end of a story it subdues the universe and puts it to sleep. This puppet also serves as a sign of wind and other strong elements as they occur in a story. The puppets of specific characters and animals appear only in profile with one moveable arm, with the feet usually standing on an object such as a tree branch, a dragon or other creature (see Figure 1 above). Some common characters from the Ramayana story are Seri Rama (a king), his brother Laksamana, his wife Siti Dewi, the King Rawana (who still carries the 10 heads as in the Rama story), Hanuman the White Monkey king, and several ministers and warriors. Other newly created puppets have two moveable arms but still appear in profile only. In addition, there are two clown-servants to the king who are called Pak Dogol (the wise old one) and Wak Long (the clever, witty one). These two clowns are local creations from many decades ago, along with some country bumpkins, local Indian and Chinese characters, as well as ogres, animals and several weapons (bows, arrows, clubs and so on). With the creation of new, local stories some dalang have designed and carved figures with dress and head gear that resemble contemporary village or even modern royal characters. Specific colour for specific puppets has remained consistent over the past decades of the 20th century. An important change in the costume of two major puppet characters took place around the mid-20th century involving the headpiece and trousers for the characters Seri Rama and Laksamana, initiated by the dalang Awang Lah who imitated the headpiece and costume from the Thai manora theatre. In the early 20th century the puppet Seri Rama wore a headpiece of cloth wrapped around the head with a short piece of 221 PATRICIA MATUSKY material protruding vertically at the side of the head (called tengkolok, still worn by men today in Kelantan). The changes that Tok Dalang Awang Lah made were to use a headpiece similar to that of the Thai Menora actor and to change the back of the usual Malay sarong to the ‘wing-like’ Menora actor’s trousers. These changes were considered to be very attractive at the time and remain so to this day. The various character types and characters themselves require specific kinds of movement as the puppet is held by the dalang between the lamp and the screen (Matusky, 1980, 1993; and in Mohd. Anis & Steputtat, 2017, pp. 108-121). Performance Structure The performance structure of the wayang kulit Kelantan throughout the 20th century featured a formal ‘opening of the stage’ (buka panggung) which involved offerings of prepared foods and prayers said by the puppeteer to ensure a successful performance and for other related purposes. A shadow play taking place for the first time in a given stage required that all musical instruments be set up on the ground and a short version of the lagu Bertabuh (piece for announcing the shadow play to the local audience) was played. Then all the instruments and puppets were put in place on the stage for the performance. After the formal opening of the stage, a series of musical pieces (like an ‘overture’) alerted people in the village that a shadow play was about to begin, and also served as a warm up piece for the musicians. Subsequent to the ‘overture’, the deputy puppeteer performed the opening prologue which is called the Tok Dalang Muda (the young dalang’s piece) that is often performed by one of the experienced musicians in the troupe. The prologue is a set of specific pieces each with a specific function such as to introduce characters, to set the mood, to give news and so on (Matusky, 1980, 1993). After that follows the piece for changing the dalang (lagu Tukar Dalang) who performs the main story for the evening. In the days before the 1980s, a given story would take 3 or 4 nights to complete, therefore a dalang could look forward to receiving a substantial payment from the given host of the performance. By the late 20th century, performances took only three to four hours to tell a complete tale. Music Ensemble & Musical Style In this shadow play tradition, the movement of puppets usually requires specific musical pieces played by the orchestra. All instruments in the music ensemble of the 20th century, were acoustic (Matusky, 1980, 1993). There were no electric instruments such as electric guitars, keyboards and so on. The percussiondominated Kelantan music ensemble of drums, gongs, cymbals and a serunai reed aerophone continues to play all of the music required for the wayang kulit Kelantan. The idiophones are the tetawak (a pair of large, hanging knobbed gongs producing two different pitches at the musical interval of about a minor third to a fifth apart), the canang (a gong-row of two knobbed gongs producing two different pitches), and the kesi (two pair of hand cymbals, producing two different timbres of sound). Three types of drums, appearing in small and large sizes, comprise the membranophone section of this ensemble. The gedumbak is a goblet-shaped single-headed drum struck with the hands, the geduk small barrel drum is struck with drumsticks, and the gendang hand-hit double-headed and elongated barrel drums produce resultant rhythmic patterns played in an interlocking style by the two gendang players, or by the small gendang and the gedumbak players. The final instrument in this ensemble is the aerophone called serunai which features 7 finger holes and a free-beating reed made of 4 layers of palm leaf. The serunai player uses a circular (continuous) breathing technique to perform melodies that are improvisatory in nature and provide continuous sound until a piece comes to an end. A specific music repertory comprises around 30 or more different pieces used in different dramatic situations (Hamzah Awang Mat & Matusky, 1998); the dalang draws on this repertory as needed in his and the puppets’ enactment of a given story. Some basic musical characteristics of this repertory in the 20th century include the use of cyclical and repeated periodic gong units (or colotomic units) that give structure and form to a piece of music played on the large hanging tetawak gongs, the canang gong-row and the kesi hand cymbals. The drum rhythmic patterns and the serunai melodies are played within the structure and form of the periodic gong units (Matusky, 1980, 1993). 222 THE 20TH CENTURY STYLE OF WAYANG KULIT KELANTAN Summary Noting the existence of this shadow theatre as a thriving tradition in the past centuries to its near demise in more recent times during the late 20th and early 21st centuries, we can note that very few puppeteers still perform today in Malaysia. This roundtable explores some of the major changes and developments taking place in this shadow play and its potential for endurance, viability and vitality in a modern, 21st century world. Some very creative puppeteers from the late-20th and early 21st centuries (such as the Dalang Dolah Baju Merah from Kelantan) and puppeteers today contrive completely new stories based on local people/characters or on events in the villages or towns in which they live and about which most audiencegoers would know. One such contemporary dalang from Kelantan and his performing colleagues have created new puppet characters to perform episodic stories from the ‘Star Wars’ adventures and have put these into action on the shadow play screen. It is from this perspective that we examine change and viability in the 21st century Malaysian shadow play tradition. References Brunet, J. (1971). Wayang kulit aus Kelantan, Schattentheater aus Malaysia. Berlin: Veroeffentlichung des Internationalen Instituts fuer vergleichende Musikstudien und Dokumentation. Burawoy, M. (2003). Revisits: An outline of a theory of reflexive ethnography. American Sociological Review, 68, 645-79. Retrieved from burawoy.berkeley.edu/Methodology/Revisits.ASR.pdf Ghulam-Sarwar Yousof. (1994). Dictionary of traditional South-East Asian theatre. Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press. Ghulam-Sarwar Yousof. (1997). The Malay shadow play: An introduction. Penang, Malaysia: The Asian Centre. Grant, C. (2014). Music endangerment, how language maintenance can help. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Hamzah Awang Mat & Matusky, P. (1998). Manual wayang kulit. Penang, Malaysia: The Asian Centre. Matusky, P. (1980). The music of the Malay shadow play (Doctoral dissertation). University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA. Matusky, P. (1993). The Malaysian shadow play and music: Continuity of an oral tradition. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: Oxford University Press. Matusky, P. (2017). Shadow puppets, drums and gongs: Movement-music relationships in a theatrical genre. In Mohd. Anis Md Nor & K. Stepputat (Eds.), Sounding the dance, Moving the music: Choreomusicological perspectives on maritime Southeast Asian performing arts. SOAS Musicology Series. London: Ashgate and Routledge. Sweeney, P. L. A. (1972). The Ramayana and the Malay shadow play. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: National University of Malaysia Press. 223 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ROUNDTABLE: THE MALAY SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) IN TRANSITION: SUSTAINABILITY/VIABILITY OF A TRADITIONAL MALAYSIAN PERFORMING ART IN THE 21ST CENTURY DIFFERENT APPROACHES TO NEW SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) MUSIC IN MALAYSIA Hamdan Adnan International College of Music (ICOM), Malaysia Introduction The music of Wayang Kulit is music to accompany the storytelling process of the Malay shadow puppet play. Dating from the 20th century and earlier, it has about 35 songs and instrumental pieces (called lagu), and these consist of overture pieces, music for the appearance of specific characters, for breaking of news, music to accompany activities and music to specify mood or special intentions. Wayang kulit exponents have been looking for ways to sustain this dying art. There have been modern composers and music technologists joining the fray with various interpretations of wayang kulit music and the wayang kulit performance itself in order to attract the younger crowds. This paper will look at two different compositional approaches for two different shadow play puppeteers (Tok Dalangs) with different approaches to wayang kulit performance today in the early 21st century. Performance Practice The wayang kulit is performed on a stage with approximately ten square meters of floor space with a white screen (or ‘kelir’) at the centre front of the stage. The stories told in traditional wayang kulit performances (especially from the 20th century and earlier) consist of modified versions of the stories from the Hikayat Ramayana, locally known as ”Cerita Maharaja Rawana” (‘The Tales of the King Rawana’). The more frequently performed stories are the branch stories (cerita ranting). The storytelling process involves the puppeteer manipulating the puppet characters to create shadows on the screen or kelir, and using his voice to narrate, play characters and sing. He also cues the musicians when music is needed. The music, which traditionally consists of about 35 songs, is played by a specific music ensemble. This ensemble comprises two tetawak large-hanging bossed gongs (of two pitches) as shown in Figure 2 below, the kesi small hand cymbals, a pair of small bossed gongs (of two pitches) called canang set horizontally in a rack, a large and small sized gendang 2-headed and hand-hit barrel drums, a pair of gedombak goblet-shaped hand-hit drums, a pair of geduk small barrel drums hit with sticks, and the only instrument playing the melodies is the serunai quadruple-reed aerophone. The music repertoire can be categorized by the function of the music in the story. As noted above, these musical pieces can consist of overtures, music for the appearance of specific characters, the breaking of news, music to accompany daily activities and music to specify mood or special intentions. Fusion Wayang Kulit (Peperangan Bintang) Pak Dain is the Tok dalang (master puppeteer) for the story Peperangan Bintang, a fusion wayang kulit performance that uses the traditional lamp at the screen to cast the puppet shadows on the screen, and also a projector that casts other visuals on the screen to give the viewer more depth and texture to the images. The fusion wayang kulit stories are episodes based on the ‘Star Wars’ stories with the characters from ‘Star Wars’ that are given new or slightly modified names as noted below. Fusion Wayang Kulit is about using new stories and creating new puppet characters as well as enhancing the visual aspect of wayang kulit performance, while at the same time keeping to its traditional roots of performing with a kelir (screen) and using traditional instruments in the music ensemble. The characters in today’s fusion wayang kulit are taken from the ‘Star Wars story line and given modified names such as Sang Kala Vadeh for Darth Vader, Puteri Lea for Princess Leia, CP Long for C3PO and Ah Tu for R2D2 (Figure 1). 224 DIFFERENT APPROACHES TO NEW SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) MUSIC IN MALAYSIA Figure 1. Puppets of Fusion Wayang Kulit, including some characters from Peperangan Bintang (‘Stars Wars’) such as the Sang Kala Vadeh (Darth Vader) puppet on the far left. (Photo by the author) The visual enhancements during a performance include using a back projector to give a textured background to the whole scene. The puppets are stylized versions of the ‘Star Wars’ characters, as the performance of the art of shadow play is based on the non-traditional, outside stories. The music and instruments used are the traditional wayang kulit instruments (as noted above). The musical pieces (instrumental and vocal song) consists of the standard wayang kulit repertoire such as the pieces entitled Bertabuh (to ‘beat the drums’), Hulubalang (for ‘warriors’ appearing) and Perang (for’ battle’), however, for the Sang Kala Vadeh motif (used when the puppet appears on the screen) the serunai plays a version of the melody of the ‘Imperial March (for Darth Vader)’. To enhance the music further, original rhythmic patterns’ from the traditional pieces can be combined with a new melody played on the serunai. The combination of different original rhythmic patterns can result in new rhythms, while the voice and serunai provide solo or accompaniment melodies to the music. Also, interesting to note is the use of an audio effects processor to deliver the voice of Sang Kala Vadeh and sound effects to emulate the robotic sounds of C3PO. In the case of Fusion Wayang Kulit, then, there is new story repertoire and new puppets, but much of the traditional wayang kulit music continues to be used with the enhancements as noted above. Digital Wayang Kulit Another dalang, Pak Rahim (of Kampung Mesira, Kelantan, Malaysia), is the son of the late Pak Hamzah Awang Mat, the legendary tok dalang. Pak Rahim is looking to break away from the traditional musical sound, but at the same time keeping the essence of wayang kulit stories such as the branch or ranting stories and also some new additions to his repertoire, but still keeping old characters and so on. Therefore, he is looking for new musical forms and sounds to accompany the standard and new stories. Performance Approach The Digital Wayang kulit utilizes the traditional screen or kelir and also 3 screen projections instead of projection exclusively to the single kelir. The 3 screens can visually become an extension of the kelir or duplicate the kelir. The dalang can perform from behind the kelir using the traditional performance methods, or he can perform in front of the kelir with prepared visuals projected on the 3 screens. The show can be performed in an auditorium using surround sound with live musicians, or for smaller venues, just the Tok Dalang and an audio and visual crew operating the computer on cue from the Tok Dalang. This concept of wayang kulit performance was prototyped in 2015 at the National Academy of Arts, Culture and Heritage (ASWARA) with the dalang and musicians placed on stage and the wayang kulit characters projected onto a large screen at the back of the stage. Musical Approach For digital wayang kulit, the music comprises new music that combines traditional and western instruments. The composition process involves the use of digital samples of the traditional instruments. The samples include single notes of the various instruments and loops of the percussion instruments. Using a digital audio workstation, the samples can be combined with samples of western instruments or electronically generated 225 HAMDAN ADNAN sounds. This approach gives the flexibility to create new melodies using the serunai sound. It will also allow actual serunai melodies to be mapped to electronic sounds, resulting in new sounds for actual serunai melodies used in wayang kulit. The sampled serunai melodies can also be reconstructed to create new melodies. By triggering the serunai tone through a sample playback keyboard, new melodies with different phrasings and dynamics can be created. The song ‘Scorpion Walk’—based on the traditional piece ‘Berjalan (to walk’)’—demonstrates the use of a clarinet in place of a serunai playing on top of the traditional wayang kulit percussion instruments playing the Lagu Berjalan. Another approach is using the original serunai melodies with a sampled drum kit, bass guitar and synthesized sounds. In the digital piece ‘Ritchie’s Strut’ (conceived from the traditional piece entitled ‘Maharisi, the old sage’), sampled serunai melodies are converted to MIDI and assigned to an electronic sound, thus giving the serunai melody a new sound. It is then combined with actual serunai melody samples. The sampled tetawak large bossed gong (see Figure 2) is doubled with that of an electric bass sound and this is combined with a drum kit to give the music a modern groove. Figure 2. Sampling in process of a pair of the Tetawak large-sized bossed gongs. (Photo by the author) Conclusion The digital approach to producing wayang kulit music has many advantages. New melodies can be created from scratch using synthesized sound or original melodies can be reconstructed from recorded serunai melodies. Elements of dynamics, phrasing and articulation can be added to the new serunai melodies. New instruments can be added to the music, while adding drums and bass can produce ‘grooves’ that are more accessible to younger listeners. By sampling the percussion sound of the wayang kulit, new rhythmic patterns can be constructed while maintaining the original sounds of the ensemble. Western and electronic percussion sounds can be added to give a different texture. Original and new rhythmic patterns can be combined, creating new gong unit (gongan) cycles and written with different time signatures. This would also require the dalang to modify his puppet movements to suit the different feel and time signatures of the new music. The new musical pieces can be performed by live musicians or triggered via computer depending on budget. A surround sound audio can be employed to create a different audio dimension to the performance. The narration and character voices can be delivered from different speakers to create a larger more immersive environment for the audience. With the aid of computer generated images and animations, the dalang is free to perform behind or away from the kelir, extending the role of the dalang from storyteller to an actor, which would require the dalang to practice and adapt to a scripted performance. 226 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ROUNDTABLE: THE MALAY SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) IN TRANSITION: SUSTAINABILITY/VIABILITY OF A TRADITIONAL MALAYSIAN PERFORMING ART IN THE 21ST CENTURY A NEW HOPE: PEPERANGAN BINTANG WAYANG KULIT Christine May Yong Wesleyan University, USA Introduction I want to begin my roundtable discussion today by firstly stating that efforts in sustainability and viability of Wayang Kulit Kelantan is not new. As we have heard from Patricia Matusky and Hamdan Adnan’s papers, various individuals have introduced and incorporated different performative elements into Wayang Kulit Kelantan in their attempt to create interest within the performance form. These individuals include Wayang scholars, activists, and most importantly, practitioners themselves. One of the most important points of departure in creating interest in Wayang has been the introduction of Wayang stories not connected to the Ramayana epic, which originally forms the core repertoire of the practice and performance of Wayang Kulit Kelantan. On this note, I must begin by firstly acknowledging the role in which master puppeteers or tok dalangs of Wayang Kulit Kelantan have played. Even when Wayang was at the peak of its popularity in the 1960s and 1970s, Wayang puppeteers were always finding ways to attract more audiences to their performances; among themselves, tok dalangs made very visible attempts to set themselves apart from each other. The late Dollah Baju Merah for instance, was a puppeteer known for interjecting irreverence and humour into performances while the late Pak Nik Mat was well known for his voicing and characterisation of a wide variety of Wayang characters. Other puppeteers, including Eyo Hock Seng, continues to use characters from the Southern Thai version of shadow play called nang talung to add variety and interest in his performances. Numerous Wayang stories outside the standard Ramayana repertoire were also used by Wayang puppeteers, and these stories came from a variety of sources; some came from the Wayang Jawa, a form of shadow play now extinct, the nang talung, and a host of other stories created by Wayang puppeteers themselves. These stories all contributed to the popularity of Wayang Kulit in Kelantan especially in the 1970s and the 1980s, reaching a wide range of audiences across the state. Wayang scholars and activists have also played their role, often in collaboration with Wayang puppeteers. Ghulam Sarwar-Yousoff, a scholar of Kelantanese performance forms, worked collaboratively with the late Hamzah Awang Amat to create Wayang Kulit Malaysia in 1979, which incorporated folk stories from Malay, Indian, and Chinese origins such as Hikayat Raja Muda, Sang Kancil, Gulbakawali, and the Monkey King onto the Wayang screen. Ghulam Sarwar also collaborated with Mak Yong practitioner Saari Abdullah—who was also his field assistant at a time—to create Wayang Kulit Semangat Baru in 2004. This was based on the Japanese Occupation of Malaya. Music was drawn from the Wayang Kulit Kelantan, although Ghulam Sarwar notes that other instruments such as the violin and keyboard were used. Unfortunately, the collaboration came to an end with the passing of Saari Abdullah (G. Sarwar-Yousoff, personal communication, May 17, 2017). Despite setbacks, attempts at collaborative Wayang Kulit performances have still occurred, albeit sporadically. For instance, in September 2015, a performance between Wayang Kulit Kelantan and the Japanese marionette Edo Ito Ayatsuri Ningyo was staged in conjunction with an arts festival in Kuala Lumpur. The performance’s storyline was invented by both puppeteers while the music comprised a combination of solo shamisen, music vocals, and some standards of Wayang Kulit Kelantan repertoire. Emergence of Fusion Wayang Kulit Against this backdrop, I will now speak about a current and ongoing collaborative project in Wayang Kulit Kelantan known as Fusion Wayang Kulit. This project, to me, is incredibly significant because it is one of the most visible and active attempts to bring Wayang Kulit Kelantan to the urban stage at present, consequently shaping the visibility and viability of Wayang Kulit Kelantan. We are incredibly fortunate because we have two of the co-founders of Fusion Wayang Kulit joining us at this roundtable today—Tintoy 227 CHRISTINE MAY YONG Chuo, who is a multimedia and character designer and Muhammad Dain Othman, a master puppeteer or tok dalang of Wayang Kulit Kelantan, who traces his lineage back to revered Wayang puppeteers such as Tok Awang Lah, Jusoh Hassan, Hassan Omar, and Hamzah Awang Amat. Fusion Wayang Kulit initially began as an individual effort by Chuo, who in May 2012 was invited to showcase his work at an exhibition featuring Malaysian designers and artists. Chuo engaged the skills of his friend, Teh Take Huat, an art director, to be his co-creator for the upcoming project and together they came up with prototypes of Star Wars’ Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader (see Figure 1), which were designed based on the visual aesthetics of Wayang Kulit Kelantan. Figure 1. Chuo and Teh’s Star Wars-inspired Wayang Kulit Kelantan puppets of Darth Vader (right) and Luke Skywalker (left), exhibited at Designers Weekend in 2012. (Image source: Fusion Wayang Kulit. Used with permission) The exhibits garnered attention from members of the public, and photographs of their designs soon began making its way around social media such as Facebook and YouTube. Soon, the images found their way to Muhammad Dain Othman or Pak Daim as he is known by his community in Kelantan,1 who reached out to Chuo via Facebook Messenger to inquire about their project. Pak Daim would eventually come on board as the Wayang Kulit Kelantan expert and consultant for Fusion Wayang Kulit’s endeavours. In his role as a key Wayang Kulit Kelantan resource, Pak Daim spends much time ensuring Fusion Wayang Kulit’s work conforms to the aesthetics and principles that govern the Wayang Kulit Kelantan. For instance, designing new puppets for the Wayang screen forms a major part of Fusion Wayang Kulit’s work, but the process involved in making the puppets are stringent; first, Chuo and Teh will design a Fusion Wayang Kulit character. The design will be sent to Pak Daim for inspection. If modifications and corrections are needed, the three men will go back and forth until Pak Daim gives his approval. Only then will the puppets be made, carved by Pak Daim’s group of puppet makers in Kelantan. Fusion Wayang Kulit has since created an extensive set of Star Wars characters. Chuo will be speaking in greater detail about his creations but I want to point to two characters—R2-D2 (called Ah-Tuh) and the Stormtroopers (Hulubalang Empayar), which were made using a pliable synthetic plastic as opposed to the more typical cow or goat hide. In effect, when projected onto the Wayang screen, it allows for more vivid colours to be seen by the audience, substantially changing the visual aesthetics of Wayang Kulit Kelantan. At the very core of Fusion Wayang Kulit’s work is a 20-minute Star Wars-inspired Wayang Kulit performance called Peperangan Bintang Wayang Kulit. The performance of Peperangan Bintang was based on the first few scenes of the original Star Wars’ Episode IV: A New Hope. This was accompanied by a script written in the standard Malay language as opposed to being memorised and performed in the local Kelantanese Malay dialect. Music was largely taken from Wayang Kulit Kelantan repertoire although Ahmad Azrai, a writer and musician who assisted Fusion Wayang Kulit during the planning stages of Peperangan Bintang, also aurally taught John Williams’ Imperial March to Pak Daim’s Wayang troupe. This piece, called Lagu Vedeh (Vader’s Song), would eventually be adapted to become a recognisable part of Peperangan 228 A NEW HOPE: PEPERANGAN BINTANG WAYANG KULIT Bintang’s musical repertoire, alongside standard Wayang Kulit Kelantan pieces such as Perang and Lagu Hulubalang. Once the characters, script, and musical repertoire were finalised, Chuo added technological enhancements to Peperangan Bintang Wayang Kulit, incorporating a projector to provide animated backgrounds and colours, a customized app for sound effects for the character of R2-D2, and a voice changer for the character of Darth Vader. A key component of Peperangan Bintang has been the use of a modified projector, which is hung above the above Pak Daim’s seating position during performances (see Figure 2). This projector functions primarily to project animated background scenes used throughout the performance of Peperangan Bintang, which includes the opening crawl closely resembling Star Wars’ Episode IV, the Star Destroyer, Darth Vader’s (Sangkala Vedeh) spaceship travelling through the galaxy, and the brewing storm clouds during Darth Vader’s entrances. When animated background scenes are not used, the projector goes on standby mode and Pak Daim reverts to using his usual Wayang Kulit light bulb. Figure 2. Setting up Peperangan Bintang Wayang Kulit. Pak Daim (second from right, seated) looks on as his Wayang light is adjusted. The modified colour projector is hung above him on a metal frame (left). (Photo: Author) Yet, despite major shifts in the staging and visuality of Peperangan Bintang Wayang Kulit, it is important to note that the core of Wayang Kulit Kelantan has largely been retained. Peperangan Bintang Wayang Kulit performances always begin with the pivotal Buka and Tutup Panggung—the opening and closing of the stage, where the Tree of Life (Pohon Beringin) is waved to signify the beginning and end of the performance—a key scene that must be present in a typical Wayang Kulit Kelantan performance. The music of Wayang Kulit Kelantan is also largely retained, as does the style of presenting the dialogue and narration, even if standard Malay is used. Character movements including walking styles and battles are likewise drawn from the Wayang Kulit Kelantan. Retaining these core elements has been deliberate because the core of Peperangan Bintang is still Wayang Kulit Kelantan, albeit developed through a contemporary lens that would resonate with a larger audience based beyond the borders of Kelantan. Peperangan Bintang has since been staged in urban areas all over the country including Kuala Lumpur, Penang, and Johor, to much acclaim (Cheang, 2013; Shanin, 2014; Tan, 2014). Visibility remains an important element to Fusion Wayang Kulit; alongside performances, their puppets are often displayed to members of the public in a variety spaces such as universities, galleries, private halls, and even malls. If budget permits at any given time, performances are also staged alongside puppet making workshops which are run by Pak Daim’s team of puppet makers from Kelantan, much to the delight of its younger audiences and the young at heart. Away from performances and exhibitions, Fusion Wayang Kulit’s work continues with the creation of new Wayang characters from a variety of sources, including superheroes from the DC Universe, folk stories such as the Monkey King, and just very recently, Malaysia’s new (and returning) Prime Minister Tun Dr. Mahathir, which received a fair bit of attention in the press (Cheang, 2018). While performances have not yet been created around these new characters, they are frequently uploaded onto social media, subsequently showcasing and making visible Fusion Wayang Kulit’s work—and role—in the sustainability of Wayang Kulit Kelantan. 229 CHRISTINE MAY YONG In effect, the efforts made by Fusion Wayang Kulit demonstrates the ability and creativity of practitioners and collaborators to shape Wayang Kulit Kelantan into a performance form that is highly innovative and accessible to a wide range of audiences. At a deeper level, such innovations reflect the concerted and persistent efforts taken by practitioners to work through their challenges, going beyond the dichotomy of resistance and conformity, beyond religious and cultural politics, in order to seek ways to ensure the sustenance and viability of Wayang Kulit Kelantan. Endnote 1 Henceforth referred in this article as Pak Daim. References Cheang, M. (2013, October 27). Shadows of the empire. The Star Online. Retrieved from https://www. thestar.com.my/lifestyle/entertainment/arts/on-stage/2013/10/27/shadows-of-the-empire/ Cheang, M. (2018, July 11). Tun Dr. Mahathir…as a wayang kulit puppet! The Star Online. Retrieved from https://www.star2.com/culture/2018/07/11/dr-m-wayang-kulit-shadow-puppet/ Shanin, S. (2014, September 22). Star Wars comes alive in ‘wayang kulit.’Astro Awani. Retrieved from http://english.astroawani.com/entertainment-news/star-wars-comes-alive-wayang-kulit-44439 Tan, V. (2014, June 12). Star Wars meets wayang kulit. The Star Online. Retrieved from https://www.the star.com.my/news/community/2014/06/12/star-wars-meets-wayang-kulit-traditional-shadow-pup pet-art-reenacts-epic-scifi-series-to-the-delight/ 230 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ROUNDTABLE: THE MALAY SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) IN TRANSITION: SUSTAINABILITY/VIABILITY OF A TRADITIONAL MALAYSIAN PERFORMING ART IN THE 21ST CENTURY SHADOW OF CHANGE Tintoy Chuo Fusion Wayang Kulit, Malaysia Introduction In probing into the issues of sustainability and viability of the traditional Malaysian theatrical art known as wayang kulit (shadow puppet theatre) in the 21st century, the concept and organization known as FUSION WAYANG KULIT (FWK) was created in 2012. Fusion Wayang Kulit was founded by Tintoy Chuo & Take Huat, who collaborated with (and still do) the puppet master (Tok Dalang) Pak Dain who is the 13th accredited Tok Dalang (Master Puppeteer) of the Kelantan Traditional Malay Shadow Play. The major point of this collaboration is to revive this fading theatrical art form by merging many of its traditional features with new and contemporary elements, and thereby creating a fusion shadow play and enhancing it with various multimedia components. We constantly make new sets of puppets to create movement and show people that we are very serious and versatile. We have created sets such as: Star Wars-inspired puppets, DC superheroes, Bruce Lee, Halloween and Christmas puppets, and most recently Japanese anime robots. Our puppets have been displayed in Australia, Singapore and Germany, followed by performances in Singapore, Germany and Austria as well as at home in various towns in Malaysia. The Fusion Wayang Kulit Team Tintoy Chuo (full name, Chuo Yuan-Ping) is a multimedia design graduate from Malaysia who uncovered his true passion in character creation. Tintoy is the founder and primary concept creator of FWK, he continues to oversee the project's main creative direction for overall design, working diligently to promote the fusion movement to a wider audience. Take Huat (full name, Teh Take Huat) is the co-founder and a senior art director with the local branch of an international advertising agency in Malaysia. Take Huat is the co-creator of FWK, who helped Tintoy undertake the art direction of the project. Tok Dalang Pak Dain (full name, Muhammad Dain bin Othman), a former teacher and civil servant, is the 13th accredited Tok Dalang (“Master Puppeteer”) of the Kelantan Traditional Malay Shadow Play (“Wayang Kulit Kelantan”, or “WKMTK”) art school. With more than 30 years of experience in the field of wayang kulit, Pak Dain is the traditional art authority and Tok Dalang for FWK. The Project The impetus and beginning of this concept of FWK happened back in June 2012, when I was invited to a Designers’ Weekend Exhibition, at the Publika Shopping Mall in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia. It was here where I decided to create something based on Malaysian culture and I chose wayang kulit (shadow puppet play) because it was easy for me to relate to it and to the puppet characters. I am a character/mascot designer, and each wayang kulit puppet is an individual character. To proceed with my ideas in developing something new in the wayang kulit art form, I decided to use the motto ‘THINK DIFFERENT’ that led to the idea of combining the Malaysian wayang kulit with something related to science fiction, which tends to attract both young and old audiences. In the realm of SciFi I chose the stories and characters from ‘Star Wars; to which I am strongly attracted. Therefore, we created our very first project called, in the Malay language, Peperangan Bintang which is the ‘Star Wars’-inspired wayang kulit. I asked my good friend Take Huat to do this together with me as he is a very skilful art director. The exhibition was very successful and eventually resulted in the project Fusion Wayang Kulit. In October 2012 through social media channels, I was introduced to a very famous Tok Dalang (master puppeteer) from Kelantan, Pak Dain Othman, who is the 13th accredited Tok Dalang (“Master Puppeteer”) of the Kelantan Traditional Malay Shadow Play. After initial conversations, we were both 231 TINTOY CHUO excited about the possibilities of such a project and we are now working together as a team called FUSION WAYANG KULIT (FWK). We have much respect and admiration for the Tok Dalang and we hope to continue on this journey together to bring wayang kulit back into the mainstream of Malaysian theatrical arts. We believe that, after all, such a wonderful traditional art form should be preserved and developed for generations to come. In October 2013, we performed our very first fusion-type wayang kulit performance based on Peperangan Bintang (as noted above). We had applied for and gotten permission from Lucasfilms USA (the creator of the ‘Star Wars’ stories on film) to do this project (NOTE: it is permission, not license). For the first performances of Peperangan Bintang in 2013 we achieved major local and international media coverages, such as The Wall Street Journal, NZZ Folio Switzerland, Asashi Shimbun Japan, History Channel, Al-Jazeera America, Asia Calling Channel, and The British Broadcasting Channel (BBC2) and other media. The Process and Results In the process of creating and making the new puppets for the Peperangan Bintang shadow play, I did most of the concept drawing which was first taken to the Tok Dalang Pak Dain for his input. Once Pak Dain approved the drawing, then I drew it again in detail and passed it back to Pak Dain at his wayang kulit studio in Kg. Morak, Kelantan. It was there that his master craftsmen would then constructed it into an actual puppet using the traditional animal hide or a synthetic material. These puppets, then, would be used in the performances of the Peperangan Bintang stories, and many of these puppets are on display today at Pak Dain’s studio in Kelantan (Figure 1). A notable comic character created for the Peperangan Bintang stories (and based on the character 3-CP0 of ‘Star Wars’) can be seen in the Figure 1 below, while more Peperangan Bintang puppet characters may be seen in the figures in the articles by Hamdan Adnan and Christine Yong presented in this roundtable. Figure 1. Si-P Long comic puppet character from Peperangan Bintang stories. (Photo: Tintoy Chuo) In addition, we at Fusion Wayang Kulit are not limited to only the ‘Star Wars’ characters as can be seen in the variety of puppets in Figure 2. 232 SHADOW OF CHANGE Figure 2. Puppet characters based on DC comics, from left to right: Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, Superman, Batman, and The Flash. (Photo: Tintoy Chuo) As my narrative above has told about the journey of how we came together and how we emerged with this particular fusion concept, the design process and the challenges we face continue today as we are creating even more new characters for new stories in the context of the Malaysian theatrical that has become known as Fusion Wayang Kulit. 233 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ROUNDTABLE: THE MALAY SHADOW PLAY (WAYANG KULIT) IN TRANSITION: SUSTAINABILITY/VIABILITY OF A TRADITIONAL MALAYSIAN PERFORMING ART IN THE 21ST CENTURY PEPERANGAN BINTANG (‘STAR WARS’ INSPIRED WAYANG KULIT) Notes on the Performance Tok Dalang Pak Dain (Muhammad Dain bin Othman) Galeri Wayang Kulit, Malaysia As a performance demonstration in this Roundtable, Pak Dain and his assistant will be performing a short preview of PEPERANGAN BINTANG, the ‘Star Wars’-inspired shadow puppet theatre (wayang kulit), which is a 25-minute fusion type wayang kulit performance based on Act 1 of the ‘Star Wars’ Episode 4 movie entitled ‘A NEW HOPE’. In this episode one of the main characters, PUTERI LEIA (see Figure 1) is holding a very critical plan which could save the universe, and she is trying to escape from her capture by the evil SANGKALA VEDEH. (See Figure 2). Figure 1. Puteri Leia in Peperangan Bintang. (Photo: Tintoy Chuo) Figure 2. Tok Dalang Pak Dain performs a scene from Peperangan Bintang, with Sangkala Vedah and Hulubalang Empayer (‘Warriors of the Empire’) on screen, with computer projections to enhance the sky above the characters. (Photo: Tintoy Chuo) 234 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA POPULARIZING THE INDIGENOUS AS AN ALTERNATIVE MODERNITY: THE DEVELOPMENT OF DERO IN CENTRAL SULAWESI, INDONESIA Mayco A. Santaella Sunway University, Malaysia This paper investigates the dero genre as a popularized indigenous form (Sutton, 2002) that is both product and producer of an alternative modernity (Gaonkar, 2001) in Central Sulawesi. The music-dance genre popularly known as dero is representative of the Pamona ethnic group specifically, the district of Poso, and Central Sulawesi province at large located in the region of eastern Indonesia. The marginality of the Pamona people within the province, Central Sulawesi and eastern Indonesia within the country makes the popularity of dero a thought-provoking case study of an indigenous form popularized and consumed initially within and presently beyond Central Sulawesi. The genre, in its traditional form, involves sung verses accompanied by a drum and gong rhythmic ostinato surrounded by a circle of participants executing a recurring circular movement pattern. The new dero genre was developed and popularized during the 1990’s through the inclusion of the dero rhythm in the karambangan local music genre, and the production of new songs influenced by the dangdut national genre and electronic beat songs disseminated through the new VCD and CD platforms at the time. This new genre, now consumed in other neighbouring provinces, became representative of a Central Sulawesi soundscape. Although dero is commonly sung and performed with electronic keyboards or simply with MP3 players using large speakers at high-decibel levels, dero continues its traditional function as a platform for social cohesion and local solidarity despite the influence of national and commercial music genres. This investigation will look at the development of dero from a ceremonial tradition to a popular performance genre, and its contributions as a regional popular performance genre to the conceptualization of popularized indigenous forms as alternative modernities within Indonesia. Alternative Modernities and the Popularization of the Indigenous The popularization of the indigenous as an alternative modernity for dero in Central Sulawesi considers two theoretical discourses. At the macro level is Gaonkar’s (2001) recognition of alternative modernities and the distinction between social and cultural modernity. Social transformations make reference to economic developments of the state that take place in increasingly larger urban centres. Looking at alternative modernities “from a specific national/cultural site” (Gaonkar, 2001, p. 15), social transformations in Central Sulawesi (particularly within urban centres) mirror the national modernization phenomena, although to a significantly lesser extent than Indonesia’s capital of Jakarta. Parallel to this, Gaonkar recognizes the presence of cultural modernities, the realm where dero in Central Sulawesi is negotiated as a form (both in urban and rural areas) that maintains intrinsic customary elements and signifiers while adapting to new musical and cultural influences of the nation. Gaonkar articulates, “Just as societal modernization…produces difference through creative adaptation or unintended consequences, so also cultural modernity…produces similarities on its own borders. This double relationship between convergence and divergence, with their counterintuitive dialectic between similarity and difference, makes the site of alternative modernities also the site of double negotiations” (Gaonkar, 2001, p. 23). The site of dero as an alternative modernity is both producer and product of the popularization of the indigenous phenomena in Indonesia. In his essay “Popularizing the Indigenous or Indigenizing the Popular? Television, Video and Fusion Music in Indonesia,” Sutton (2002) discusses the development and mass dissemination of new genres and ensembles. He presents a number of case studies referred as “ethnopop fusion” for music that combines elements of one or more indigenous “traditional” music with elements of western-style pop music. The analysis focuses on genres that combine local cultural elements through the use of traditional instruments and/or genres with what is labelled as “western-influenced pop” disseminated through television and VCDs during the 1990’s and 2000’s. The development of dero was part of the national popularization of the indigenous phenomena through the production of new songs and albums disseminated largely through VCDs at the end of the 20th century, and eventually MP3’s at the beginning of the 21st century. Unique to dero compared to campursari and other Javanese “pop-fusion” genres discussed by Sutton, is its development as a popularized indigenous form both as an alternative modernity (musical genre) and within an alternative modernity (its production site) in the marginal region of Poso within the marginal Central Sulawesi province. 235 MAYCO A. SANTAELLA The Ende Tradition among the Pamona in Central Sulawesi The Pamona ethnic group resides mostly in the district of Poso with some communities in neighbouring districts within Central Sulawesi. The ethnic group is linked historically to the kingdom of East Luwu and live alongside other ethnicities in Poso such as the Mori, Lore, Bada, and Napu, among others. The Pamona are mostly Christian practitioners, given the late 19th settlements of Dutch missionaries commenced by Albert Kruyt, who established a residence in Poso. Along with Nicolaus Adriani, Albert Kruyt produced the earliest ethnological and sociological publications specifically on Poso communities and Central Sulawesi at large. Some of the first photographs and documentation of ende among the Pamona were taken by German ethnologist Albert Grubauer during his journeys in Central and South Sulawesi in the 1910’s and 1920’s. Ende (in its ceremonial setting) is a structured communal round movement and sonic system carried out during ceremonies and festivities executed in a circular motion, at times while holding the hand or elbow of the person to the side of each participant, accompanied by a gong and one or two double-headed drums. From Grubauer’s documentation, and compared to the execution of the traditional ende form at the village level, the form has remained relatively unmodified. The ende tradition is not exclusive to the Pamona. Structured communal round movement and sonic systems is a phenomena present in the geographical region of Central Sulawesi. In this sense, ende is related in form, practice and context to the rano among the Kaili (Central Sulawesi), raego in Kulawi (Central Sulawesi) and other traditions in Toraja (South Sulawesi), such as the ma’badong during a rambu solo (death ceremony) and the ma’nimbong during a rambu tuka (thanksgiving ceremony). The communal singing differs in each place, such as the different types of polyphony (homophony and drone polyphony) found among the Toraja communities in South Sulawesi and the counterpoint polyphony among the Uma speakers in Kulawi, Central Sulawesi (Yampolski, 1999). Similarly, the movement execution differs among the different communities, from gentle right and left foot alternations to stamping motions among the Toraja, to patterned footwork among the Kaili. Three examples of movement patterns of ende among the Pamona include the ende ntonggola (two steps to the right and one to the left, slightly backwards), the ende ntoroli (two steps to the right and one to the left) and the ende ada (similar to ende ntoroli but without the hand-holding). Figure 1. Ende accompanied by a gong and a drum. Figure 2. Basic recurring dero rhythm. From a Pamona to a Central Sulawesi Identity Signifier The popularization of the new dero genre in Poso based on the ende tradition was largely carried out in three forms. The main popularization came from new regional pop-influenced songs using the characteristic dero rhythm. These songs are mostly accompanied by electronic keyboards and often include harmonized melodies, influenced by church choirs in the region. The new pop-influenced songs maintain, explicitly or implicitly, the conventional dero rhythmic pattern commonly performed between 140 and 150 BPM to accompany dero movements. The second popularization of dero took place through new dance choreographies in the new genre of kreasi baru or new creation. The movements largely maintain cyclical features and wrist patterns that mark the beat in the traditional dero form. The choreographies use new regional pop versions of dero or newly composed repertoire that maintain the traditional gong and drum accompaniment also commonly performed between 140 and 150 BPM. The popularization of dero also took 236 POPULARIZING THE INDIGENOUS AS AN ALTERNATIVE MODERNITY: THE DEVELOPMENT OF DERO IN CENTRAL SULAWESI, INDONESIA place through other local popular(-ized) genres such as karambangan (guitar plucking accompanied by the execution of extemporaneous verses). At times, the dero rhythm is included (largely implicitly) following the conventional tempo of karambangan between 90 and 100 BPM. The popularization of dero does not only serve as an ethnic identity signifier through the three forms mentioned above. The popularization of the genre using electronic beat songs and their dissemination through VCD’s and MP3’s resulted in larger consumption—initially in neighbouring districts, and eventually throughout the province and beyond. The performance of dero during closing ceremonies in numerous governmental events and provincial festivals further support its dissemination. The form serves as a new platform among neighbouring ethnic groups for the gathering of young community members as a secular activity outside its ceremonial context. Consequently, dero has outgrown its Pamona-specific identity to signify the cultural landscape of the political boundaries of the Central Sulawesi province. This phenomenon has resulted in the use of dero in new music compositions and dance choreographies both among the Pamona and other ethnic groups to represent Central Sulawesi in national festivals and competitions. Thus, dero has become a regional signifier of the province, and at times of Sulawesi, when performed outside the island. Concluding Remarks Despite being an Indonesian (and Southeast Asian) phenomenon, the popularization of the indigenous is specific to the cultural site of production; their alternative modernity. Similar to the development of “Dua Warna” (two colors) music, dero music avoids the recycling of traditions (Sutton, 2002) and attempts to be “Indonesian” in a new and fresh way. However, opposite nationalization signifiers might be taking place within Central Sulawesi. In national genres (i.e. largely produced in Java), the “Indonesianization” of “Dua Warna” or “Ethnic Pop” music takes place with the incorporation of ethnic sounds (using traditional instruments) into largely dominated western-style pop music foundations. Within these marginal regions (i.e. marginal sites of alternative modernities) the opposite might take place. The development of “Ethnic Pop”, even regional pop music (pop daerah) in marginal regions, adapt leading trends in the music industry that mainly take place in Java and are consumed in other regions (such as dangdut). Thus, the dominating “western-style pop basis” standard of “Ethnic Pop” acts, to a degree, as the actual “Indonesianization” of regional popular performance genres (such as dero) that indigenize/regionalize the form through the incorporation of local, or traditional, melodic and rhythmic features. While the popularization of the indigenous serves as a useful process-oriented discourse to discern national and regional developments of music industries, a look at regional and marginal sites reveal distinct experiences of alternative modernities that both adapt and negotiate national genres. In this sense, dero continues to serve as a local experience to the Pamona, a source for new compositions and choreographies for the Pamona and other ethnic groups, and a popular performance genre within Central Sulawesi that negotiates national popularization strategies while serving and producing a regional experience and an alternative modernity in situ. References Gaonkar, D. P. (2001). Alternative modernities. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Sutton, R. A. (2002) Popularizing the indigenous or indigenizing the popular? Television, video and fusion music in Indonesia. Wacana Seni/Arts Discourse, 1, 13-31. Sulawesi: Festivals, Funerals, and Work. (1999). Music of Indonesia 18. Philip Yampolsky. Smithsonian Folkways Recordings. 237 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA MULTI-HYBRIDITY IN INDONESIAN KERONCONG MUSIC IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY (Lightning Paper) Mei Artanto University of Jember, Indonesia Introduction Talking about keroncong music in the Indonesian music constellation today seems unable to escape the view that this music is folk music. Besides history has noted the emergence of this music that comes from the people, or in Andjar Any is called a product genius which in development is influenced by Portuguese, Dutch, and Japanese (Widjajadi, 2007, pp. 14, 23), in fact not from the aristocracy (colonial) or in the palace area. It was also conveyed by Suka Hardjana that meeting Indonesian people with music from Western culture, such as Portugal in the 16th century did not come from the parent art of European music (like classical music) but only the outer skin that functioned only as entertainment and solace (Hardjana, 1995, p. 6). We can see this musical function which is only for entertainment since the 1920s, when colonialism was still happening, where to eliminate and entertain themselves from fear, anxiety, and saturation they made music groups, one of which was keroncong music when it was played all night in the village streets (2007, p. 21). Besides that, in the same era, keroncong music performances can also be found in public events such as the famous market events, such as in Semarang, Solo, and Yogyakarta (2007, p. 19). And even now we can still find such performances, especially if we visit Solo, Central Java. According to Andi Prihtyas Toko, a keroncong musician, we can meet keroncong music performances every day both on stage and at home (personal communication, March 4, 2018). Whereas in Yogyakarta alone, we can now find this music displayed as entertainment in hotels and in places to eat (Wicaksono, June 3, 2018). In addition, keroncong music also penetrates into music programs on local and national television, such as in JTV Surabaya with Keroncong Larasati, on national TVRI with Gebyar Keroncong, and on TVRI Yogyakarta with Keroncong Pilihanku, and on RTV with Keroncong Masa Kini. Besides being massive in the area of musical practice, keroncong music also received attention from academics who were interested in studying keroncong from the scientific side, such as Victor Ganap, Philip B. Yampolsky, R. Agoes Sri Widjajadi, and many more, even a practitioner like Budiman BJ co-authored a book about keroncong music. The presence of writings on keroncong music from academics and practitioners as above, for writers to be an important effort to understand the keroncong music journey to this day whose presence is so diverse. From the 1600s until the 1950s, there have been forms known as original keroncong, stambul, langgam, Javanese langgam, and extra songs (Yampolsky, 2010, pp. 11, 12, 16-23; Budiman, 1979, p. 101). Furthermore, from the 1950s to the 2000s emerged keroncong beat, keroncong garapan, keroncong style, and modern keroncong (Suharto, 1996, pp. 44-45; 2007, pp. 23-24; Widyanta, 2016, pp. 44). And until today, the types of keroncong music mentioned above are still widely enjoyed by the people. Given that, what about keroncong music now? With the development of the music genre occurring so rapidly, is there something new in keroncong music now? Or does it still show the existing keroncong music. Is there Anything Different from Keroncong Music Today? This question makes the writer feel the need to trace the development of keroncong music, because then we become aware of the extent to which keroncong music develops. According to the findings in the field, now keroncong music is walking in a new direction. New, here refers to the emergence of forms of music, instrumentation, rhythm/nuance, and creative processes that are different from before. We can see these through the following three examples: Singgih Sanjaya’s Clarinet Concerto for Keroncong Music and Orchestra, 1st and 2nd Movement; Djaduk Ferianto with Orkes Sinten Remen; and Ubiet dan Dian HP with Keroncong Tenggara. In my observation of these three pieces, I found them to combine various idioms and musical mediums such as Western classical music, jazz, rock, blues, and country into keroncong music. Singgih Sanjaya’s Clarinet Concerto (2009) Clarinet Concerto was premiered in the Unforgettable Keroncong event on 29 July 2009, at the Taman Budaya Yogyakarta concert hall. In 2012, this work was played again in the Solo Keroncong Festival (SKF), 238 MULTI-HYBRIDITY IN INDONESIAN KERONCONG MUSIC IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY 14 September 2012, in Solo, Central Java, but with different instrument soloist, namely oboe and English horn.1 Even this work could be spelled the first work for keroncong music. Singgih confirmed that, until the completion of this work, he could not find any instrumental work for keroncong music, because instrumental keroncong music repertoire were only forms adapted as instrumentals from vocal works (Mucharom, 2013, p. 30). For Clarinet Concerto,2 it combines Western classical music and keroncong music. This mixing lies in (1) a musical form that uses a concerto musical form in Western classical music in which there is a cadenza which features a typical musical voorspel melodies of keroncong music, and (2) incorporates Western classical music instruments and keroncong music in one piece and its play techniques. Ubiet and Dian HP with Keroncong Tenggara According to Ubiet, regarding Keroncong Tenggara: it is through a combination of various genres, such as classical, jazz, pop, and tango, that this group brings the extraordinary to keroncong music to strengthen the keroncong spirit and enriching the listener’s appreciation.3 And one his songs, Aksi Kucing, by Oey Yok Siang in the 1950s,4 is extraordinary for me in a couple of aspects: (1) the arrangements that combine elements and nuances of jazz music through its unisono rhythm play in the accordion, cello, saxophone, and harmonic alternation between jazz and keroncong styles; and (2) an instrumentation that uses different playing techniques, such as heard in the cello part. Generally, the cello in keroncong music has three strings and is played pizzicato. Keroncong Tenggara calls for the cello to be played using Western classical music techniques such as arco and pizzicato. Djaduk with Orkes Sinten Remen Beginning in 1997, previously known as the Orkes Keroncong Taman Budaya (OKTB), the group offers a fresher approach to keroncong music. In Djaduk words, it was ‘made more fun,’ meaning they are not restricted to only playing conventional keroncong music (Agnesia & Bejo, 2016, pp. 3, 8). For Djaduk, an important effort today is to make keroncong fresher or more extraordinary, because the music will then return to being close to the public’s heart, especially among youngsters, and not merely be seen as a klangenan music (music for nostalgia or solace) meant for older people (Agnesia, 2016, p. 3). This kind of spirit that continues to be pursued by the Orkes Sinten Remen in presenting keroncong music today. For Djaduk, by promoting the concept of a twenty-first century “crazy” or “spoiled” keroncong music, the Orkes Sinten Remen,5 incorporates various musical idioms, such as jazz, blues, rock, country, samba and dangdut into their creative space (2016, p. 8). By combining a mix of idioms and musical mediums from various cultures, or referred to henceforth as “multi-hybridity”, they succeeded in giving a new enjoyable aesthetic experience to twenty-first century keroncong music. Multi-hybridity in this context refers fundamentally to the concept of hybridity as set out by Homi K. Bhabha. For Bhabha, hybridity is a new space that results from the meeting of two cultures (within the context of colonialism), where the boundaries between meeting cultures can melt together and produce new forms (Bhabha, 1994, p. 7; Mufidah, 2014, p. 24). And multi-hybridity in this context suggests that today’s keroncong music, such as heard in Clarinet Concerto, Keroncong Tenggara, and Orkes Sinten Remen, is the result of mixing music from different genres and making keroncong music more complex. Before the mixing of idioms and mediums of music in the ‘new’ keroncong music, conventional keroncong music was also the result of a mixture of two different musics: Portuguese and Indonesian. Even for Yampolsky, what was brought by the Portuguese and mardjikers like the cavaquinho, adufe, singing, melodic music, and the harmonic foundations—all important elements in keroncong music—may have resulted from mixtures with other cultures such as those from Africa and India (2010, p. 17). Through the existence of multi-hybridity (e.g., in the musical form, the use of instruments, combinations of style and nuance, etc.), contemporary keroncong music gives listeners a different experience from conventional keroncong music. And this different listening experience, for Herbert Marcuse obtained from emancipation sound efforts, or he called by the emancipatory power of art. This emancipatory power of art—in this case, music—refers to the process of combining various idioms and musical mediums as a way for the musicians, composers, arrangers to present their views of today's reality, where the rapid development of technology and knowledge facilitates intercultural interactions, especially music that today does not exist again restricting bulkheads to interact with each other (Suryajaya, 2016, p. 639). In addition, multi-hybridity also offers a new experience in keroncong music. For Clement Greenberg, a new experience 239 MEI ARTANTO in keroncong music today can be obtained when musicians, composers, and arrangers explore the ‘sensory basis’ of music, seeking the form of artistic expression in music through the exploration of ‘uniqueness of the rides’—idiom and medium—from keroncong and others music (2016, p. 641). And this kind of effort has been done by Singgih with Clarinet Concerto, Ubiet and Dian HP with Keroncong Tenggara, and Djaduk Ferianto with Orkes Sinten Remen. Conclusion Keroncong music’s encounters with various other musical genres in times like this cannot be inevitable anymore. The rapid development of technology, knowledge of music (theory and practice), and the need for diverse musical experiences make keroncong music necessary for self-actualization. Actualization efforts of this kind have actually been done by previous musicians, such as Tanci Paleo (songs extra), Brigadier General Pringadi (keroncong beat) and Budiman BJ (keroncong garapan) adapted to the context of that time. As a result, the community can not only enjoy the original keroncong, stambul, style, and Javanese style but can enjoy extra songs, keroncong beat, keroncong garapan, keroncong style, and modern keroncong, which in different aspects of music. The spirit of actualizing keroncong music is continued by Singgih Sanjaya, Djaduk Ferianto with Orkes Sinten Remen, Ubiet and Dian HP with Keroncong Tenggara. In their hands, keroncong music can be transformed into ‘new’ music. Based on this explanation, this novelty lies in the presence of multi-hybridity in keroncong music, in which the musical form, the use of instruments, the combinations of rhythm/nuance, and the creative process is quite different from conventional keroncong music. Multihybridity as the tendency of musical concepts in keroncong music in the early 21st century is presumably an effort that needs to be explored again. Because then, in an era like today, keroncong music is not just klangenan ‘nostalgic’ music, but can show a new direction and provide new experiences for the community. Endnotes 1 www.timlo.net 2 https://dennysakrie63.wordpress.com 3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYZRXO-7VVc 4 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkdgmIGJizg 5 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TaILgKAqtC0 References Achmad K. (2012, September 15). Solo keroncong festival: Orkes keroncong tak mesti tampilkan penyanyi. Retrieved from https://www.timlo.net/baca/38219/orkeskeroncong-tak-mestitampilkan-penyanyi Agnesia, R., Selvi, M., Rinakit, & Bejo, A. H. (2016). Indonesia Kita edisi keduapuluh. Jakarta. Bhabha, H. K. (1994). The location of culture. London: Routledge. Budiman, B. J. (1979). Mengenal keroncong dari dekat. Jakarta. Denny S. (2010). Keroncong tenggara mendulang musik hibrida. Retrieved from https://dennysakrie 63.wordpress.com Hardjana, S. (1995). Catatan musik Indonesia fragmentasi seni modern yang terasing. Jurnal Kalam, 5. Korniawan, A. (2016). Sinten remen “Ayun-Ayun” djaduk Ferianto. Retrieved from https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=TaILgKAqtC0 Mucharom, H. A. (2013). Skripsi: Analisis clarinet concerto with keroncong and orchestra accompaniment. Yogyakarta: Jurusan Pendidikan Musik, Fakultas Bahasa dan Seni, Universitas Negeri Yogyakarta. Mufidah, F. (2014). Konstruksi identitas di dalam novel Desirable Daughters karya Bharati Mukherje: Tinjauan pascakolonial (Thesis). Yogyakarta: Program Pascasarjana Ilmu Budaya. Official NET News. (2015). Performance Ubiet dan keroncong “Aksi Kucing”-IMS. Retrieved from https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkdgmIGJizg Singgih Sanjaya. (2008). Singgih Sanjaya clarinet concerto 1st LKO 2008. Retrieved from https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=ZYZRXO-7VVc Soeharto, A. S. & Sunurpraptomo, S. (1996). Serba-serbi keroncong. Jakarta: Penerbit Musika. Suryajaya, M. (2016). Sejarah estetika. Yogyakarta: Indie Book Corner. Widjajadi, R. & Agoes, S. (2007). Mendayung di antara tradisi dan modernitas: Sebuah penjelajahan ekspresi budaya terhadap musik keroncong. Yogyakarta: Hanggar Kreator. 240 MULTI-HYBRIDITY IN INDONESIAN KERONCONG MUSIC IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY Widyanta & Nugrahanstya, C. (2016). Gaya musikal lagu keroncong garapan orkes keroncong tresnawara Yogyakarta (Thesis). Yogyakarta: Program Studi Pengkajian Seni Pertunjukan dan Seni Rupa, Sekolah Pascasarjana, Universitas Gadjah Mada. Yampolsky, P. B. (2010). Kroncong revisited: New evidence from old sources. Archipel, 79. 241 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ROUNDTABLE: SUSTAINABLE TOURISM POTENTIAL FOR THE WEST JAVANESE PERFORMANCE PRACTICES PUTTING AN OLD SILAT CULTURE OF BANTEN AND ITS MUSIC BACK INTO THE PUBLIC Uwe U. Paetzold Robert Schumann University of Music, Germany From the mid-sixteenth century to the early-nineteenth century, the Sultanate of Banten had been of major importance for the trade in the Malacca Straits and beyond. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the rulers of Banten developed and adapted translocal and international trade strategies to match their seafaring competitors: the Portuguese, Danish, Dutch, and British. The Sultanate of Banten had started to gain a foothold in an early global economy. The Dutch VOC trade company, and its successor, the Dutch colonial government, took particular measures to confine the trade activities of their opponents. After having deprived Banten of its sovereignty in 1682, their final blow came on 21 November 1808, when Dutch General Daendels annihilated the Sultanate’s court at Surosowan. It seemed for a long time that Banten would never fully recover from this devastation. Decapitated politically and economically, Banten transformed from a prosperous kingdom, into a region where somewhat obscure forces dwelled under the surface of everyday life. Banten turned towards metaphysics—the last realm of strength that the Dutch could not deprive them of—and became one of the first addresses in matters of religion, spirituality and magic in Java and beyond. And Banten became a region that experienced numerous internal political upheavals, and hardships arising from natural disasters (i.e. the Krakatau volcano eruption of 1883). It was small wonder the performing arts of that region to a certain degree reflected an aesthetically less ‘bright’ or less ‘open’ performance appearance for a long time. What particularly became prominent amongst the arts in “good-Mohammedan Banten” (Kunst, 1973, p. 379) was the heavily Islam-tinged debus— a demonstration of faith and an act of spititual belief I am reluctant to label with “performance art”, an intentional physical behaviour in front of others to show abilities of spiritual strength, i.e. invulnerability— intertwined with silat (fighting arts) on several levels. In some cases, we find contextual relations between silat masters (pendekar) and the spiritual leaders of debus (syekh). These relations are seen particularly among the local strongmen of this region, the so-called jawara. Members of these groups sometimes played an ambivalent societal role during the transitional phase between the Orde Baru to the Era Reformasi periods. And, with their ambivalent societal role, we are back to what I describe above as an “esthetically less ‘bright’ performance appearance.” My characterisation of an “esthetically less ‘bright’ performance appearance” hence does not apply to the Silat Terumbu, nor Silat Bandrong: two old local fighting styles of (pencak) silat,1 accompanied by the gendang patingtung music ensemble. These arts are served with an unmistakable attitude of local pride and self-confidence. Brief History of the Performance Settings Described The Terumbu and Bandrong styles2 of silat are jointly performed with the music of the gendang patingtung. According to local history, the Terumbu style is held to be the older pattern of combined movement and music performance. Because of this reason, the music ensemble is referred to as Gendang Terumbu sometimes as well. The conjunction of Silat Terumbu and Gendang Patingtung is reported to have existed since the reign of Sultan Maulana Hasanudin in the sixteenth century. During this founding era of Islam in Banten, the Terumbu style is said to have been used by the sultanate’s military forces during land-based operations, including against the then still-existing Pajajaran kingdom until its demise around 1579 CE, and later against the Dutch and the Javanese kingdom of Mataram (II). The Terumbu style is said to have been founded by Kiai3 Terumbu from Terumbu village in what is today the Kasemen/Banten Lama subdistrict. As an important early patron of the style, Sultan Abdul Mafakhir Aliyuddin (1777-1802 AD) is named. Van Bruinessen (1995, p. 185) notes a close relationship between this Sultan Aliyuddin and the tarekat Rifaiyah. The Bandrong style is said to have been used by the Sultanates’ military forces within sea-based operations against the Portuguese and Dutch. This style’s founder is said to have been Kiai Santri,4 a sea 242 PUTTING AN OLD SILAT CULTURE OF BANTEN AND ITS MUSIC BACK INTO THE PUBLIC commander during the reign of Sultan Maulana Hasanudin. Kiai Santri is said to have lived in what is today the Bojonegara subdistrict, west of Banten. The Music Element of the Performance: Gendang Patingtung The gendang patingtung ensemble is composed of the following instruments: a multiple reed instrument tarompet, three small drums gendang kecil, a medium-sized gendang sedang, a small goong panyeluk/pemanggil, a medium-sized goong tengah, a goong bende/besar, a horizontally suspended goong panggang, and a kecrek rattle. Furthermore, within this ensemble’s sonic texture, a lively use of soloistic, and choral alok(an) and senggak rhythmic vocal interjections can be heard. The tarompet traditionally used in this setting deserves our attention, as the instrument is not identical with the tarompet found elsewhere in West Java, such as in the kendang penca(k) ensemble. The tarompet used in the gendang patingtung features a cone5 made of brass6—rather than a one-piece wooden instrument7 as is common in West Java.8 Previous Literature on the Performance Arts Described Literature on the performance arts described here is rare.9 However, Meijer (1890, p. 247) cites a variation of the term patingtung:10 Padengdang: A dance performed by men. Also the orchestra used to accompany it. As far I could gather information, it is exclusively used in the “Wester-Regentschap.” Shortly after, Jacobs & Meijer (1891, p. 99) cite the term “padendang” once more and lay open the source they used: the lalakon Koedawangi, an epos from the Pajajaran era, orally handed down by the Baduy people of the Lebak district:11 That in the old kingdom feasts were celebrated, whereby dances were performed, in which all the kinds of music instruments were used, three things the Baduy consider as ‘taboo’, is shown to us from the pantun: “without a stop, the goöng padengdang sounded,” as it is reported in the lalakon “Kudawangi.” The padengdang is a dance executed by men. There can be little doubt that in the named lalakon from the era of the “old kingdom” we find mention of the (gendang) patingtung music ensemble. Nowadays it is no longer solely connected with a men’s dance of the same name, but instead with two traditional local styles of silat, and as we will see later, with the Tari Bandrong Ing Cilegon, a contemporary offshoot from these movement arts that can be observed in the region of Cilegon. The phenomena reported in a lalakon12 can be assumed to have been accumulated and transmitted orally as ‘encapsulated knowledge,’ considerably earlier than the period this epic has come from into our times. Drawing from these considerations, I hypothise that with the “padengdang,” (gendang) patingtung, and the men’s dance respectively silat movement art(s) connected herewith, we find the earliest sources on silat and related music phenomena from at least the era of the Hindu-Sundanese kingdom of Pajajaran. In other words, in the present conjunction of (gendang) patingtung with the Terumbu and Bandrong silat styles from the Banten region, we find the heirs of the oldest performance combination of penca/silat and music in all of Java. This hypothesis stands in contrast with the common belief that Penca Cimande and Gendang Penca are the oldest forms. Traditional Performance Settings Performances of gendang patingtung and the two indigenous silat styles may take place during weddings and circumcision celebrations. In addition, prior to the destruction of the Surosowan court, gendang patingtung was used in the court’s military training.13 Gendang patingtung music accompaniment consists of two sections: an introductory part in medium tempo, and a subsequent faster part called barung. These two sections are separated choreographically by an interlude called mincid. This interlude uses the same rhythm pattern as the barung section that follows it. 243 UWE U. PAETZOLD Figure 1. Pak Haji Maktub performing a silat movement from the Bandrong style. Kec. Bojonegara, ds. Kartasana, kp. Tunggak, 28.05.1995. The gendang patingtung instruments are (left to right): two gendang, the goong panggang, the goong tengah and bende hanging from the traverse pole, and the tarompet Banten (musician: Pak Rebudin (white shirt), seated on a chair); all musicians sitting around the traverse pole in the background. (Still videography by the author) During a performance, these choreographical sections alternate cyclically, with changes in tempo and dynamics characterized by a speeding up at the start, and a slowing down at the end of the performance. The introductory slower part serves as a musical ‘platform’ for showing off silat movements in an aesthetic and powerful manner. The faster second section then leads into mock fighting or real duels. Recent Performance Settings Banten received the status of a province in year 2000. In 2010, the cultural administration and the Office for Tourism and Culture14 of Cilegon City realized they needed some more open, ‘brighter’ performance art more representative in regards to the local identity, for welcoming visitors. What was in demand was a performance art qualified to express what characterises “being Bantenese,”15 without overly pronouncing aspects of being a Muslim culture. Drawing from approved arts transmitted “from generation to generation,”16 they choose elements from the powerful and aesthetic Silat Bandrong to become the main choreographic source for a new representational stage dance named Tari Bandrong Ing Cilegon after its place of development. The dance was officially debuted and was promoted as a touristic asset in 2012. An official promotion video was made available on the internet, wherein both the current presentation form and its traditional sources are displayed. Figure 2. Still videography from the official promotion video by the Dinas Kebudayaan dan Pariwisata kota Cilegon (2012) showing movements from Bandrong style as included in the “Bandrong Ing Cilegon” dance. The gendang patingtung 244 PUTTING AN OLD SILAT CULTURE OF BANTEN AND ITS MUSIC BACK INTO THE PUBLIC instruments are (left to right): gendang and kulanter, goong tengah and bende, horizontally suspended goong panggang, tarompet Banten (musician: n.n.), and a terbang besar (in front of the car). “Preservation” or “Safeguarding” of the Performance Arts Discussed? The traditional performance arts discussed have been included into protective administrational structures of different status and impact: 1. Whilst the Silat Terumbu and Bandrong have become a part of the parcel of the Traditions Pencak Silat of Indonesia record that has been applied to the UNESCO ICH safeguarding programme at a global level recently (March 2017), ... 2. ... the Silat Bandrong and the (Gendang) Patingtung have been registered as Warisan Budaya Tak Benda (WBTB17) by the Ministry of Culture and Education on a national level in Indonesia. The aspect of melestarikan is an important point of discussion in pencak silat circles in Indonesia nowadays. It has strong connotations towards aspects of preservation here. There are some perspectives implicit in this understanding that need to be discussed. In the case of Tari Bandrong Ing Cilegon, a sole focus on preservation would not have been adequate. For what was in demand was a representative performance art having grown out of physical and aesthetical approaches. Hence, following the idea of “safeguarding,” what could be expected is an imperative on keeping the flow of public appeal, appreciation, and education on the named performing arts—a focus on viability rather than on preservation—without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs.18 To some extent, the “Tari Bandrong Ing Cilegon” dance can be understood as a first step of revitalization of various aspects from the old silat culture of Banten and its music, and putting them back into the public. It certainly has to be viewed as a newly created, additional art form, and not as a proxy for any of the traditional performance arts involved. Endnotes 1 Related to the traditional styles discussed, the term “silat” is preferred locally instead of “pencak” or “pencak silat”. 2 In BI: aliran 3 In Java, kiai is a generic honorary title for an outstanding spiritual teacher. 4 Facal (2016, pp. 164-191) names a “Ki Beji” from Gunung Santri as one possible founder of this style. He notes that there are multiple versions of local oral history for both styles and their founders, see his detailed accounts. 5 BS: corong 6 BS: kuningan 7 BS: surupan 8 See Paetzold (2011, p. 181, figure 5.7). 9 Details of the performance arts involved—((gendang) patingtung, silat Terumbu and silat Bandrong—are discussed in Paetzold et al. (2000, pp. 258-269) and in Facal et al. (2016, pp. 143-191). 10 Dutch original: “Padengdang: Een dans uitgevoerd door mannen. Ook het orchest, dat daarbij gebruikt wordt. Voor zoover ik kon nagaan, komt het uitsluitend in het Wester-Regentschap voor.” Translation: Paetzold. 11 Dutch original: “Dat er in het oude rijk nog al eens feesten werden gevierd en dansen werden uitgevoerd, waarbij alle soorten van muziekinstrumenten werden bespeeld, drie zaken die voor de Badoej's boejoet zijn, blijkt ons uit de pantoens herhaaldelijk: «sok ngelak goöng padengdang» heet het o.a. in de lalakon «Koedawangi» (aanhoudend luidde de goöng der padengdang); padengdang is een dans die door mannen wordt uitgevoerd.” The term “buyut” in the Basa Sunda kuna can be translated with “taboo”: Matters declared as buyut are restricted to certain persons only. Translation: Paetzold. 12 van Zanten (2016, p. 409) reports on the lalakon Kuda Wangi, that already Meijer had found these pantun stories were “considered to be specific to the Baduy”, and that Meijer “also remarks that, beyond the Baduy area, there were no pantun performers in Banten.” 13 BI: prajuritan 14 Dinas Pariwisata dan Kebudayaan 15 BI: kebantenan 245 UWE U. PAETZOLD 16 BI: “secara turun temurun” Lit.: Register of Intangible Cultural Heritage (of Indonesia). 18 According to the convention on “intangible cultural heritage” of the UNESCO (2003, p. 2), i.e. “safeguarding” means: “…measures aimed at ensuring the viability of the intangible cultural heritage, including the identification, documentation, research, preservation, protection, promotion, enhancement, transmission, particularly through formal and non-formal education, as well as the revitalization of the various aspects of such heritage.” 17 References Bruinessen, M. (1995). Shari’a court, tarekat and pesantren: Religious Institutions in the Banten Sultanate. Archipel: Etudes interdisciplinaires sur le monde insulindien, 50, 165-199. Dinas Kebudayaan dan pariwisata kota Cilegon. (2012). Bandrong ing Cilegon. Tarian Selamat Datang Kota Cilegon. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=33&v=gywyPu32Lcw Facal, G. (2016). Keyakinan dan kekuatan: Seni bela diri Silat Banten. Jakarta: Penerbit Obor. Guillot, C., Ambary, H. M., & Dumarcay, J. (1990). The Sultanate of Banten. Jakarta: Gramedia. Jacobs, J. & Meijer, J. J. (1891). De Badoej’s. Gravenhage: Martinus Nijhoff. Kunst, J. (1973). Music in Java (Vol. I & II). The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff. Meijer, J. J. (1890). Bijdrage tot de Kennis van het Bantensch Dialect der Soendaneesche Taal. In: Bijdragen tot de Negerlandsch-Indië. Koninklijk Instituut voor der de taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië. Vijfde Volgreeks – Vijfde Deel, Eerste Aflevering, p.247. Gravenhage: Martinus Nijhoff. Paetzold, U. (2000). Blüte, Frucht und Kern. Bewegungsformen und Musikstile im Bereich des Pencak Silat in West-Java und West-Sumatra [Blossom, fruit, and kernel: Movement forms and music styles of the Pencak Silat in West Java and West Sumatra]. EthnomusiCologne, Bd. 2. Rüdiger Schumacher (Ed.). Bonn: Holos-Verlag. Paetzold, U. (2007). Band 7, Titel 0711, (Pencak) Silat Bandrong-Terumbu. In: West-Java. Tänze und Bewegungskünste der Ibingan Penca / Tari Ronggeng-Familie. Traditionelles Kunst-Pencak Silat und verwandte Bewegungskünste. Catalogue No. 2730. Köln: Deutsches Tanzarchiv. Retrieved from http://www.sk-kultur.de/tanz/ Paetzold, U. (2011). Self-defence and music in Muslim contexts in West Java. In D. D. Harnish & A. K. Rasmussen (Eds.), Divine Inspirations: Music and Islam in Indonesia (pp. 161-193). New York, NY: Oxford University Press. UNESCO. (2003). Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage. MISC/2003/CLT/CH/14. October 17, Paris. Retrieved from http://unesdoc.unesco.org/images/0013/ 001325/132540e.pdf Zanten, W. (2016). Some notes on the pantun storytelling of the Baduy minority group: Its written and audiovisual documentation. Wacana, 17(3), 404–437. Retrieved from http://wacana.ui.ac.id/index. php/wjhi/article/view/454/418 246 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA LOCATING YOLŊU CULTURAL EXPRESSIONS OF HISTORICAL MAKASSAN EXCHANGES IN NE ARNHEM LAND Aaron Corn The University of Adelaide, Australia Introduction Despite orthodox assumptions that Balanda (European) explorers discovered Australia, the Yolŋu people of NE Arnhem Land had engaged in centuries of trade and cultural exchange before the 20th century with seafarers from the port of Makassar on Sulawesi. Until steep Australian tariffs were imposed 1906, Makassan perahu (boat) fleets had sailed annually to Australia’s north coast since the 1750s with the primary goal of harvesting trepang (sea cucumber) for sale into China. These Makassan visitations have left an enduring legacy upon Yolŋu culture, and remain recorded in Yolŋu law through ceremonial repertoires of song, dance, and design that are practiced to this day. In this paper, I explore how Yolŋu cultural remembrances of historical exchanges with Makassan seafarers are recorded in the hereditary public ceremonial repertoires that remain incumbent with the Yolŋu homelands and to which the manikay (song) tradition is central. I examine the engagements of Yolŋu performers in ceremonial repertoires and derivate creative endeavours since the 1988 Australian Bicentenary to celebrate and reignite their Makassan contacts, and show how musical expressions remain influential in affirming Yolŋu autonomy and ownership of their homelands. I approach this study as an ethnomusicologist who, since the mid-1990s, has collaborated with Yolŋu colleagues to explore the manikay tradition (Corn with Gumbula, 2007) and its inspiration of derivative musical expressions (Corn, 2002, 2009 & 2014; Corn with Gumbula 2005). Background Ever a persistent theme, I have been directly involved in two cultural initiatives that have celebrated YolŋuMakassan contact histories. The first of these brought the Makassan performance troupe, Takbing Siwaliya, to Australia for collaborations with Yolŋu performers at the 2005 Garma Festival and Darwin Festival. Its leader, Abdul Muin Daeng Mile, and manager, Halilintar Lathief, were keynote speakers at the 4th Symposium on Indigenous Music and Dance hosted by the Garma Festival (Corn, 2006). Takbing Siwaliya then appeared in Darwin with Yolŋu performers led by Brian Djangirrawuy Garawirrtja of the Birrkili Gupapuyŋu clan, who holds a manikay repertoire that recounts historical Makassan contacts (Corn & Marett with Garawirrtja, 2011). The second was the launch of the 2011 Trepang exhibition at the Capital Museum in Beijing (Duschatzky & Holt, 2011; Langton & Sloggett, 2014), which arose through collaboration between the Chinese artist, Zhou Xiaoping, and the Yolŋu artist, John Bulunbulun Ganalpiŋu. There, I was tasked with playing didjeridu for Paul Pascoe, the son of Ganalpiŋu’s widow, as he sang manikay to launch the exhibition (Bradley, 2012). These have been various initiatives to reignite Yolŋu-Makassan relations since the mid-1980s. The Northern Territory Museum historian, Peter Spillet, first conceived of building a traditional wooden Makassan perahu, the Hati Marege’ (Heart of Arnhem Land), in 1986. Captained by Mansjur Muhayang, son of the last known Makassan traveller to Australia, Mangnellai Daeng Maro, it sailed from Makassar to the Yolŋu town of Galiwin’ku, for the first time in 82 years, to confound the Australian Bicentenary celebrations of January 1988. Upon landing at Galiwin’ku, its crew was greeted as family through the performance of Yolŋu ceremony in which their shared contact history was recorded (Ganter, 2013, p. 62). The next trip from Arnhem Land to Makassar was led by Ganalpiŋu (Ganter, 2013, pp. 62-63). His paintings often referenced historical Makassan contacts and, in 1993, he led performances of the Marayarr Murrukundja, a traditional Yolŋu diplomacy ceremony centred around the construction and decoration of a ceremonial pole to represent the mast and rigging of a Makassan perahu, over three nights at the Galigo Museum (Garde, 1993; Eccles, 2010). Muhayang then returned to Galiwin’ku in 1996 to collaborate with Yolŋu performers led by the Gumatj elder Charlie Mattjuwi Burarrwaŋa, whose family shares Makassan ancestry, in the production of Trepang: An Indigenous Opera (Saint-Claire, director, 1997). Premièring in Makassar in 1997 to mark the 667th anniversary of Gowa, it told their story of long lost family (Palmer, 2007; Stephenson, 2007, pp. 40-57; Macknight, 2008, pp. 141-142; Langton, 2011, p. 49). 247 AARON CORN Renewed interest in Makassan contact history was also celebrated in the music of Arnhem Land bands. Yothu Yindi’s original song ‘Macassan Crew’ (Yunupiŋu, Kellaway, Cockatoo Creed & Farriss, 2000, p. 1) quotes traditional manikay of the Gumatj clan that records Makassan contact. Here, the Makassans are brave peaceful traders of steel and tamarind seeds captained by Gurrumulŋa, who navigate by the Morning Star and are saddened to leave for home. Yothu Yindi’s Gumatj lead singer and composer, Mandawuy Yunupiŋu (A. Corn, personal communication, March 8, 2001), explained that, because the Makassans had been Muslims, the repetition of the lyrics ‘Aa—e-yah’ in the song’s chorus represented their prayers to Allah as rendered in traditional manikay, while the lyrics ‘Yendharama Birrapirra’ heard in the introduction are names of a Makassan perahu recorded in the manikay of his mother’s mother’s clan, the Dhalwaŋu. The Makassan Trepang Trade The timing and identities of the earliest Asian visitors to Arnhem Land remain unknown. Through radiocarbon dating, a pottery shard found on Groote Eylandt can be dated at 1107-1280 CE (Clarke & Frederick, 2011, p. 151), rock art of a perahu in Wellington Range can be said to predate 1664 (Taçon, May, Fallon, Travers, Wesley & Lamilami, 2010), and human remains of SE Asian origin found at Anuru Bay can be said to predate 1730 (Theden-Ringl, Fenner, Wesley & Lamilami, 2011, pp. 41-45). Evidence in Yolŋu ceremonial repertoires also suggests that Yolŋu contacts with Austronesian peoples predate the start of commercial Makassan trepang fleets in the 1750s. These included possible contacts with the Sama (McIntosh, 1995) with whom Garawirrtja (A. Corn, personal communication, February 24, 2005) affirmed a shared ancestral affinity with whales, as well as a people remembered as having beautiful golden skin, who might also have been Sama, and who later returned with the post-1750s trepang fleets as slaves (McIntosh, 1999, pp. 155-166 & 2013, pp. 100-101). All are somewhat conflated in ceremonial repertoires under the law of the ghost ancestor, Walitha’walitha, whose name is cognate with the Islamic testimony, ‘Lā ʾilāha ʾillā llāh [There is no god but God]’ (McIntosh, 1999, p. 156). The anthropologist Warner (1969, p. 420) observed that, in associated Yolŋu Wurramu mortuary ceremonies, there was choral singing of ‘Wo ga Allah’ and offerings of ‘Serri makassi’ after the Indonesian phrase ‘Terima kasih [Thank-you]’, while Berndt & Berndt (1954, p. 46) later deduced that imams had accompanied Makassan fleets to Australia. Further details of the post-1750s annual voyages of perahu fleets from Makassar in the Sultanate of Gowa to the north Australian coasts of Kayu Jawa (the Kimberly) and Marege’ (greater Arnhem Land) were found in Dutch records by the historians Macknight (1972 & 1976) and Knapp & Sutherland (2004). Macknight (2013, pp. 22-31) estimated that, during the first half of the 19th century, some 30-60 Makassan vessels sailed to Arnhem Land each year crewed by at least 1000 men who mostly spoke Makasar and Bugis. Used in cooking since the 17th century, trepang was coveted by Chinese buyers in Makassar both for its culinary and medicinal properties (Dai, 2002, p. 25; Macknight, 2013, p. 20). This trade ebbed in 1884 when South Australia, which had annexed the Northern Territory, imposed new charges upon Makassan vessels. When steeper tariffs were levied in 1906, one single perahu, the Bunga Ejaya, became the final Makassan perahu to legally harvest trepang from Australian waters bringing 15 decades of continuous trade with Indigenous Australians to an end (Macknight, 2013, pp. 22; Langton, Mazel & Palmer, 2006, p. 313; Clark & May, 2013, p. 2). Maritime traditions remain significant in Makassan culture (Palmer, 2007, p. 5). At the 2005 Garma Festival, Mile explained how instruments played by the men of Takbing Siwaliya were arranged to represent a perahu heading out to sea. Accompanied by an oboe, slit-drum and gong, the syncopated rhythms of the front drum represented its bow cutting through the waves, while the rear drum maintained a calm and steady connection to home. As only men had sailed abroad, the troupe’s four female dancers surrounded these musicians on the four compass points. Their feet never entirely left the ground representing a connection to home soil (Figure 1) (Sutton, 2006, p. 5; Corn et al., 2011, pp. 75-77). 248 LOCATING YOLŊU CULTURAL EXPRESSIONS OF HISTORICAL MAKASSAN EXCHANGES IN NE ARNHEM LAND Figure 1. Takbing Siwaliya performs at the Garma Festival. (Photo: A. Corn, 2005) Influence on Yolŋu Culture The influence upon Yolŋu culture of some 150 years of continuous Makassan trade was profound. Long before the arrival of Methodist missionaries in 1922, the Yolŋu held extensive knowledge of their Asian neighbours and Dutch colonisation in Indonesia. Some Yolŋu people accompanied Makassan vessels back home with families such as Burarrwaŋa’s now sharing Makassan ancestry (Cooke, 1996). The Yolŋu witnessed Islam as practiced by the Makassans (Berndt & Berndt, 1954, pp. 45-46; Warner, 1969, p. 420; McIntosh, 1996; Ganter, 2013, p. 58), and received imported goods from them, including rice, tamarinds, tobacco, alcohol, cloth, axes and knives, in return for rights to harvest trepang and other local resources (Earl, 1846; Macknight, 1976; Cooke, 1996; Clarke, 2000). When the Hati Marege’ landed in Galiwin’ku in January 1988, Muhayang presented Burarrwaŋa with a bag of rice just as his ancestors had done (Ganter, 2013, p. 62). Yolŋu languages retain many Makasar and Bugis loan words including rrupiya (money), bandirra (flag), buthulu (bottle), lipalipa (canoe), dhamburra (drum) and baŋ’kulu (axe) (Cooke, 1996), while Makassan customs and wares remain recorded in Yolŋu ceremonial repertoires, which evidence patrilineal ownership of clan homelands through ancestral bestowal, yet can also accommodate new understandings of the world including those introduced through Makassan contact (Knopoff, 1992; Magowan, 2007; Toner, 2000; Corn, 2013). It is chiefly in repertoires held by Yirritja-patrimoiety clans, such as the Warrimiri, Dhalwaŋu, Gumatj, Wangurri, Munyuku, Madarrpa and Birrkili Gupapuyŋu, that Makassan influences are found. Garawirrtja (A. Corn, personal communication, February 24, 2005) explained that Yirritja clans had made flags in their own distinctive colours from introduced cloth to mark beaches where Makassans had been welcome to land that now symbolise clan authority over their homelands. Flags of various colours, including black for Warramiri, red for Dhalwaŋu, yellow for Gumatj, green for Wangurri, white for Munyuku, white over sky blue for Madarrpa, and navy blue for Birrkili, thus remain an iconic feature of Yolŋu ceremonies.2 When I performed manikay with Pascoe to launch the 2011 Trepang exhibition in Beijing, flags of red, yellow and navy were carried aloft by our party through the Capital Museum’s foyer to represent the Ganalpiŋu, Gumatj and Birrkili Gupapuyŋu clans (Figure 2). 249 AARON CORN Figure 2. Launching the 2011 Trepang exhibition in Beijing (Nirvana Films, 2011). Flag protocols for Makassan landings on Yolŋu beaches were also a prominent theme when Garawirrtja’s family and Takbing Siwaliya performed at the 2005 Darwin Festival. A navy flag was planted on stage to signal the readiness of the Birrkili Gupapuyŋu clan to receive the Makassans at its ancestral homeland. Assuming the role of a Makassan perahu, Takbing Siwaliya had made a flag of its own, which was red with a large gold circle and raised to the sounding of a gong to signal their readiness to come ashore for trade (Corn et al., 2011, pp. 75-79). Conclusion While further research into Asian records such as those in the Royal Museum of Gowa (Palmer, 2007, p. 5) is required to further explore the earlier continuum of Austronesian contacts with Indigenous Australians before the post-1750s Makassan trepang trade, it is nonetheless evident that this long and extensive history of international exchanges remains influential to this day in affirming Yolŋu autonomy and ownership of their homelands. This is demonstrated both in ceremonial repertoires to which manikay is central that record these exchanges, and in derivate creative endeavours in which Yolŋu have engaged to celebrate and reignite their Makassan contacts since the 1988 Australian Bicentenary. Enduring Yolŋu memories and expressions of these historical exchanges date their international trading relationships before both the 1788 British occupation of Australia and the arrival of resident Balanda missionaries in 1922. They reveal a long preexisting Indigenous history of Australia through which the Yolŋu engaged extensively with earlier visitors to their shores in ways that maintained their autonomy and did not contest ownership of their homelands. Endnotes 1 My spellings of Yolŋu words conform to those preferred by Yolŋu communities (Zorc, 1986). This finding was first published with our permission by Langton and Sloggett (2014, p. 8). Garawirrtja (A. Corn, personal communication, February 24, 2005) further explained that the earlier Austronesian whalers known to the Yolŋu as the Bäpayili, Wuymu and Gelurru also possessed a distinctive flag of white over black for Motatj, their camp in the Wessel Islands. 2 References Berndt, R. M. & C. H. (1954). Arnhem Land. 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Unbirri’s pre-Macassan legacy or how the Yolŋu became black. In M. Clark & S. K. May (Eds.), Macassan history and heritage (pp. 95-106). Canberra: ANU E Press. Palmer, L. (2007). Negotiating the ritual and social order through spectacle. Anthropological Forum, 17(1), 1-20. Saint-Claire, A. (Director). (1997). Trepang [Video Recording]. Australia: Trepang Project. Stephenson, P. (2007). The outsiders within. Sydney: UNSW Press. Sutton, R. A. (2006). Tradition serving modernity? Asian Music, 37, 1-23. Taçon, P. S. C., May, S. K., Fallon, S. J., Travers, M., Wesley, D., & Lamilami, R. (2010). A minimum age for early depictions of Macassan praus in the rock art of Arnhem Land, Northern Territory. Australian Archaeology, 71, 1-10. Theden-Ringl, F., Fenner, J. N., Wesley, D., & Lamilami, R. (2011). Buried on foreign shores. Australian Archaeology, 73, 41-48. Toner, P. G. (2000). Ideology in influence and innovation. Perfect Beat, 5(1), 22-41. 251 AARON CORN Warner, W. L. (1969). A black civilisation (rev. ed.). New York: Harper. Yunupiŋu, M., Kellaway, S., Cockatoo Creed, J., & Farriss, A. (2000). Macassan crew [Recorded by Yothu Yindi]. On Garma [CD]. Melbourne: Mushroom. Zorc, R. D. (1986). Yolŋu-Matha Dictionary, reprint. Batchelor: Batchelor College. 252 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA HUMAN/OTHER RELATIONS IN BURMESE PERFORMING ARTS: DISSOLVING THE BOUNDARIES OF SELF Gavin Douglas University of North Carolina at Greensboro, USA Introduction Human relationships to the natural and spiritual world are rapidly changing as a result of population movement, changes to local ecologies, and climate change. Regarding the relationships between humans and non-humans in the Myanmar context I pose the following questions: What insights into these changes can be offered through a close examination of the performing arts? What understandings can be gained from a Buddhist epistemology that highlights interconnections among all things and illusion in the concept of discrete identities or bounded selves? Questioning the boundaries that divide humans from nonhumans, individual souls from others, highlights uncertainties on the nature of humanity and of the self. In the early 21st century, these concerns are ever more relevant beside the undeniable fact that our human relationships to the natural and spiritual world are changing as the material conditions that support those relationships change. Transformation of global capital markets, exchange of ideas, population movement, changes to local ecologies, rising sea levels and climate change are a few of the dramatic, increasingly rapid, and likely-irreversible changes that influence our understanding of our world and our place in it. In all societies the arts play a significant role in shaping how we conceive of ourselves vis-a-vis these forces. Southeast Asia broadly and Myanmar specifically offer a fertile setting to explore such questions as many in these locales have long acknowledged their interdependent relationships with plants, animals, spirits and landscapes. Countless Buddhist texts and practices that train mindfulness, meditation, and insight implore us to develop loving kindness (metta) towards all living beings of all species. It is further recognized that one’s own health and happiness is not separate from those of other species but, rather, our own situation is tied to the health and happiness of all. For Buddhists, animals and humans share the same essential nature. Both suffer as a result of attachment and return (samsara) after death to a new life. A soul may be reborn either in a human body or in the body of a non-human animal. Humans are not a separate class of beings to whom a separate body of etiological, ontological, and ethical rules applies. I explore here some of the Buddhist inspired artistic traditions that for many years have reinforced ideas of a permeable, mutable self. After a brief exploration of the ubiquity of animals and spirits in Burmese arts, highlighting their agency and relations with human actors, I will discuss the jātaka tales, the stories of the Buddha in his previous lives, and the various artistic vehicles used in telling these stories primarily the yokthe marionette tradition and the zat theatre, followed by some reflections on the current standing of these art forms. In the Burmese context there exist thousands of examples of animal mimesis, animal iconography, animal characters in dance, instruments made of animals, songs born of animist spirits, animal movements in dance and stories of animals, spirits and other agents relaying messages to and blurring boundaries with humans. Countless musical instruments are shaped in the form of animals or mythical creatures or label parts with animal terminology. One can barely turn around in Myanmar without bumping into guardian images of snakes, lions, and other creatures. Harps and xylophones are frequently carved into the shape of dragons, peacocks, and other animals (see Simonson, 1987 and Williamson, 1968). A large carving of the mythical pyinsinrupa—a combination of five animals: elephant, bullock, horse, carp, and dragon/snake—guards over every hsaing waing ensemble, the primary ensemble of the country. The most prominent instrument among the Mon people in southern Myanmar is the mijaung or crocodile zither. Likewise, multiple dance traditions such as the Shan kinnari dance mimic animal movements or stories of mythical beings (Singer, 1995). Even early attempts to codify Burmese music theory links animals associated with particular pitches and modes. U Khin Zaw, for example, notes that the pitches of the Burmese scale are named for the animals believed to produce those tones: bull, horse, peacock, goat, crane, cuckoo, elephant (1940, p. 719). These same animal characters are then identified with the seven modes of Burmese music. These are just a few of dozens of nonhuman representations embedded in the arts of the Burmese world. The volume of non-human creatures represented in human expression is truly staggering. 253 GAVIN DOUGLAS Jataka Tales Since before the founding of the Burmese kingdom jātaka tales that depict the previous lives of the Buddha have been a staple of the traditional arts and literature (see Appleton, 2010; Luce, 1956; Lawergren, 1994). Highlighting the wheel of samsara that brings us back life after life, the Buddha endured countless lives on his path to enlightenment. In these stories the Bodhisattva is commonly (though not always) the central figure, and may be a god, a farmer, a woman, an untouchable disposer of corpses, a merchant, and so on. The ten most famous of the jātakas deal with his later lives as Brahman, ascetic, king, king’s aide and, until recently, were well known among the populace (see Pannyawamsa, 2009). In practice jātakas are not simply folktales, but stories that carry the core teachings of Buddhism and offer a hagiography of the Buddha. The 550 catalogued stories blur the identity of a discrete bodied individual and relay a self that travels through a multitude of different forms. Different characters (Boddhisatva and others) in different bodies changes across and within lifetimes. Of the 550 codified jātaka tales half of these tales depict the Buddha-to-be in other than human form. Characters depicted as fish, deer, birds, or any variety of other animal are still actors or witnesses to khammically (karmically) significant action. For example, in the Anusasika Jātaka, the Bodhisatta was king of the birds who lived with his followers in a forest and counsels a greedy bird collecting grain on the road just before its death by carriage wheel. In the Suvannamiga Jātaka the Bodhisattva is born as a golden stag and lives contentedly in the forest with his mate and other deer. One day, a hunter sets a cruel snare in which the stag is trapped. The rest of the herd of deer flees, but his mate approaches the hunter and offers her life in place of the stag’s, the king of the herd. Impressed by such love and bravery, the hunter spares both creatures and is rewarded by the stag with a magic jewel. In the Mulata Jātaka the human Boddhisattva communicates across species to resolve a dispute between a lion and a tiger. In the Javasakuna Jātaka the Buddha to be is woodpecker that rescues an ungrateful lion. Still in other stories, the Buddha-to-be takes the form of a tree, a shrub or a tree sprite, as in the Kusanjali Jātaka, where he is a lowly clump of kusa grass yet still has the capacity as a moral agent to perform an act of life-saving kindness. These many stories reinforce the idea that all living beings (animals, spirits, human) follow the wheel of samsara from life to life as well as pointing to karmic interdependence between human and nonhuman agents through themes of compassion, empathy, foolishness, sacrifice, and ecology. Within the Burmese kingdom jātaka tales were significant and primary sources for artist material. Paintings, sculptures, dance, song, theatre were all important conduits for relaying the stories. Between the 17th and early 20th century the primary and most revered conduit for telling jātaka tales was yokthe marionette puppetry. Yokthe was validated by both the court and the sangha (the monastic order) in order to provide realistic performances for a conservative public. Moral constraints on human actors limited the acceptable behaviours of theatre. During the 19th century it was inappropriate to have men and women dance within arm’s length, let alone touch. Furthermore, human actors were restricted from portraying the Buddha or the King. These conventions severely curtailed the ability of dramatic dancers and actors to successfully relate stories, mostly drawn from the jātaka tales. Puppets were an ingenious way around this problem (Thanegi, 1994, p. 2). The illusion of puppet agency is a combined product of the puppeteer, the puppet-singer, and the musicians. The sounding (voicing, singing, growling, purring, etc.) of a puppet is not articulated by the puppeteer but, rather, by a behind-the-curtain vocalist working in close conjunction with the hsaing orchestra and the puppeteer. Here an identity conceived as singular—the marionette character—is brought to life through the composition, or merging, of different forces; the voice, the puppeteer and the musicians. The Burmese yokthe tradition draws extensively from jātaka tales and one half of the 30 to 40 marionettes are animals. In this setting several specifically Burmese characters show up in performances. One of the more prominent is Zawgyi, an alchemist who grinds his medicine, turns dirt into gold, talks with animals, levitates, and balances and bounces upon his staff with spectacular twirls. Zawgyi is adorned with a gold and red cap, red trousers, and slippers and carries a magical staff. Interviews with Yangon based U Shwe Gyi in 2018 and his teacher, Bagan based master U Maung Hla in 1999, highlight the blurred boundaries between their own identities and those of the marionette characters in which they specialize. Maung Hla was known throughout his illustrious career as Zawgyi Pyan U Maung Hla: the return or the reincarnation of Zawgyi the alchemist (see Bruns, 2006). In his performances Maung Hla would dress and dance as the marionette. Human mimics marionette that mimics human in stories that traverse lifetimes. At the end of the 19th century the Burmese yokthe tradition was considered high art both literally and metaphorically performed on a raised stage with the audience seated below. Human dramatics that did not deal with such important subjects as Buddha birth stories were relegated to the ground. This changed in the 1920 through the work of The Great Po Sein who was the first to develop jātaka tales for human actors. 254 HUMAN/OTHER RELATIONS IN BURMESE PERFORMING ARTS: DISSOLVING THE BOUNDARIES OF SELF These human-performed tales came to be known as zat, taken from the word jātaka. Po Sein, a devote Buddhist, worked in close consultation with monks (including the famous meditation master Leydi Sayadaw) who lent monastic support to his radical transformations of theatre (Sein, 1965). Drawing directly from the yokthe stage the stock Burmese dance gestures mimic the ideal motions of jātaka characters as depicted by the marionettes. Thus, motions of ankles and wrists as if they were on strings, high elbows, and circular swinging gestures. U Po Sein also introduces other radical contributions to Burmese theatre including raising the stage and the use of slippers or stockings. In Burma the use of shoes on a raised stage was particularly significant as the wearing of shoes in particular spots was a central rallying point around anti- British resistance that grew during this time. In 1919, disputes over British soldiers wearing shoes on the pagoda platform set off the beginning of the nationalist movement. For Po Sein to raise the stage and wear shoes turns the zat stage into secular space, moves the tradition away from monastic oversight and, with the celebrity status that soon followed, marks an anthropocentric turn in Burmese arts. Today, Burmese zat performances have less and less jātaka presence and fewer and fewer characterizations of animals as active characters. Modern performances are stage shows with pop songs, comedians, and skits. In a play held today a truncated jātaka may be held very late in the evening or, more often, not at all. U Chan Tha, the son of Shwe Man Tin Maung (the second most famous dancer of the 20th century behind Po Sein) and the current leader of his father’s troupe relayed to me in a 2018 interview that they often include jātaka stories when they are touring the villages. The knowledge of the stories is still retained somewhat in the rural areas. In contrast, contemporary urban Mandalay and Yangon audiences are happy to do without them. The current situation for both yokthe and zat is troubled. The living artists mentioned here are struggling hard to pass on the tradition while meeting audience demands for contemporary sounds. The younger generations seem ambivalent while among older artists there appears to be great disappointment. When I asked my friend, Mandalay based musician and producer Ko Tin Oo about jātaka tales he replied, “Youth today don’t know the stories, they are distant from the Buddha stories and are, as a result, not ethical…rude and impolite.” He continued, “Today people are too selfish. Jātaka tales cultivate a self-less inter-connected disposition.” U Kyaw Win who works to revive this tradition in Mandalay in the tradition of U Po Sein has recently started the Inwa school for performing arts with artists in the region. With foreign funding the school aims to combat the onslaught of foreign culture that has come from the sudden opening up of the country. The school struggles with finding interested students from Mandalay and when I visited in the summer of 2018 most of the students in residence were of Kachin ethnicity students who were sent there by their parents to escape the ongoing political conflicts in their home state. The future of the school and other initiatives like it is quite challenged (see Diamond, 2009, 2012, 2017 and Foley, 2001 for detailed depictions of these challenges). What does the increased scarcity of jātakas, and their primary vehicles for distribution yokthe and zat, indicate for future Myanmar arts and worldviews? How might these traditions that highlight nonhuman actors effect our perception of the nonhuman world? I highlight here some traditions that have been central to Burmese life for quite some time. All of these traditions are now challenged, and their futures look bleak. As these traditions diminish, do we also lose epistemologies and ways of conceiving and understanding our relationships with other beings? Do our ontologies also slide such that what it means to be changes? Are Buddhist ideas of the self (a collection of aggregates with no identifiable core) less visible as these traditions fade? With the decay or loss of these traditions do we misplace some ways of appreciating the fluid boundaries between humans and spirits, human and animals, and our own past lives? Many of these Myanmar traditions, offer us a (closing?) window into other ways of thinking about humanity. References Appleton, N. (2010). Jātaka stories in Theravada Buddhism: Narrating the Bodhisatta path. Burlington, VT: Ashgate. Bruns, A. (2006). Arts. The Drama Review, 53(1), 1054–2043. Diamond, C. (2012). Communities of imagination: Contemporary Southeast Asian Theatres. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawaii Press. ProQuest Ebook Central. Retrieved from http://ebookcentral.proquest. com/lib/uncg/detail.action?docID=3413513 Diamond C. (2017). Drenched in victory, facing drought: Staging transitions in Myanmar's performing arts. Asian Theatre Journal, 34(2), 347-371. 255 GAVIN DOUGLAS Foley, K. (2001). Burmese marionettes: Yokthe Thay in transition. Asian Theatre Journal, 18(1), 69-80. Khin Zaw. (1940). Burmese music (A preliminary enquiry). Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, 10(3), 717-54. Lawergren, Bo. (1994). Buddha as musician: An illustration of a Jātaka story. Artibus Asiae, 54(3/4), 226240. Luce, G. H. (1956). The 550 Jatakas in Burma. Artibus Asiae, 19(3-4), 291-307. Ma Thanegi. (1994). The illusion of life: Burmese marionettes. Bangkok: White Orchid Press. Maung Khe Sein & Withey, J. A. (2006). The Great Po Sein (2nd ed.). Bangkok: Orchid Press. Pannyawamsa, Sengpan. (2009). Recital of the Tham Vessantara-Jātaka: A social-cultural phenomenon in Kengtung, Eastern Shan State, Myanmar. Contemporary Buddhism, 10(1). Sein, K. & Withey, J. A. (1965). The great Po Sein: A chronicle of the Burmese theatre. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Simonson, L. (1987). A Burmese arched harp (saùng-gauk) and its pervasive Buddhist symbolism. Journal of the American Musical Instrument Society, 13, 39–64. Singer, N. (1995). Burmese dance and theatre. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Williamson, M. C. (1968). The construction and decoration of one Burmese harp. Selected Reports in Ethnomusicology, I(2), 45-72. 256 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA BEYOND HYBRIDIZATION: JAVANESE BLACK METAL AND TRANSCULTURAL MUSIC (Lightning Paper) Gianluca Chelini La Sapienza Università di Roma, Italy Javanese Black Metal is a musical genre that originated in Java 10-15 years ago and that has become widespread since then. It is characterized by the attempt to combine the musical genre of heavy metal with elements of Javanese local music and/or traditions. In describing the Indonesian metal scene, Emma Baulch (2003) and Jeremy Wallach (2008) noticed the almost complete lack of any attempt of hybridization between metal and local music, pointing out how unusual this was in the context of Indonesian popular music. During my own field work, however, I have encountered a completely different situation, discovering that a hybrid metal genre with distinctive stylistic traits exists, and it has also started to split up into many regional styles. In a recent article (Chelini, 2018) I described the Javanese Black Metal scene as a whole, tracing its origin and its history within the socio-cultural Indonesian context. In this paper I intend to describe a unique example of the Javanese hybridization of metal; so unique that I would question the validity of the word hybrid to describe it. The piece in question is the song Cakra Bharawa (DJIWO, 2014) by the Solonese one-man band Djiwo. I will analyse its lyrics and music, and I will then connect this analysis to the theoretical ideas recently expressed by the Italian ethnomusicologist Francesco Giannattasio (2017). In Cakra Bhairawa Djiwo uses a number of compositional strategies to create a lyrical and musical structure by means of which he expresses certain aesthetic and political values, such that it can be considered the musician’s “manifesto”. My analysis starts from the title of the song. The term Cakra refers to the Sudarsana Chakra, the disk-like weapon associated Vishnu and used by Kresna in the Mahabharata epic. The term Bhairawa means “frightful” or “terrible”, and refers to the fierce manifestation of Shiva, which is associated with the annihilation of the universe. In an interview I conducted with Djiwo he emphasized the connection between the terrible bhairawa aspect of the deities and the pivotal concept of the metal subculture. He maintained that both these ideas provide a means for imagining and conceptualizing the discussion and overturning of social norms. But due to diametrically opposed conceptions of the relationship between good and evil and, in turn, of change and renewal, these ideas entail very different attitudes towards the way in which social upheaval can be achieved. Transgression is a concept based on Western dualistic philosophies, and it consists in a denial of the prevailing culturally accepted social norms. Instead, according to the non-dualistic Hinduist conception, the bhairawa manifestations of deities are not negatively opposed to good, but are an essential part of the divine cosmic order, being necessary to maintain the balance of the universe. Djiwo is completely aware of this simultaneous similarity and dissimilarity, and upon it he builds all his artistic project. In fact, he converts the two different conception just described in two principles for combining a series of minimal musical and textual elements to builds all the lyrics and the music of the song: 1) The inversion, which stands for the western dualist conception. 2) The circular development (circularity), representing the Hinduist conception. As a result, the form of the music and the text could be summarised as follow: Textual Circular Development 1) Each line consists of only two words, with the first syllable of each one identical to the last syllable of the other (e.g. line 1: Yamaraja Jaramaya’). This hints at a possible endless loop. 2) In both the two stanzas, after the presentation of the 8 lines, the first 4 are repeated, representing the potentially endless repetition of the stanza. Textual Inversion 1) The first stanza of the lyrics presents the Javanese mantra ‘Raja Kalachakra’ in its original form (i.e. line from 1 to 8) In the second stanza the lines order is inverted (from 8 to 1). 257 GIANLUCA CHELINI Music Circular Development and Inversion The song is built using four basic motifs, which are arranged as follow: A B C D C D C D C D C B A The form of the song can thus be defined, and is defined by the author, in two different ways: 1) A symmetrical form, in which the third recurrence of motif C functions as the centre of symmetry that divides the song in two halves, one articulated with the motifs sequence A B C D C D, and the other composed by the inversion of this first sequence D C D C B A. 2) A circular form, with the third appearance of motif C as the centre point of a series of concentric circles, each one with its circumference passing through two equidistant occurrences of the same motif. What is the meaning of such a musical and lyrical structure, in which two formative principles and, by extension, their metaphorical meanings are not separable? The answer lays in the multi-layered and complex identity and personality of the composer. Many scholars identified, as the core feature of almost all the Indonesian popular music genres, the process of hybridization, namely the process of combination of two or more genres to create a new music. This process, for Jeremy Wallach and Esther Clinton, “is linked to an acceptance of contradictions and unresolved differences in the texture of everyday life” (2013, p. 5). But Djiwo entirely participates both in his local culture and in the global metal culture, and both are of equal importance to the formation of his identity. Djiwo is not a Metalhead and a Javanese but, through and through, a Javanese Metalhead, and is not enough, for him, the process of juxtaposition of musical languages that characterise most of the Indonesian hybrid popular music genres. Rather than hybrid music, Cakra Bhirawa seems to match with the definition of transcultural music given by the ethnomusicologist Francesco Giannattasio. He starts from the thought of the philosopher Wolfgang Walsh, who described the contemporary world as one in which “Cultures de facto no longer have the insinuated form of homogeneity and separateness. They have instead assumed a new form, which is to be called transcultural insofar that it passes through classical cultural boundaries” (2017, p. 34). In other words, cultural barriers are inexorably blurring and disappearing, leading individual and social group to the creation of new cultural identities. Transcultural music are those new forms of musical creation that express those new kind of identities and are, Giannattasio underlines “Not only metissage of musical instruments and artefacts, but rather new creativity and new, shared musical languages” (2017). References Baulch, E. (2003). Gesturing elsewhere: The identity politics of the Balinese death/thrash metal scene. Popular Music, 22(2), 195-215. Chelini, G. (2018). Javanese black metal: Towards a definition of post-heritage music. In T.-M. Karjalainen (Ed.), Sounds of origin in heavy metal music (pp. 95–116). Cambridge Scholars Publishing. DJIWO. (2014). Cakra Bhirawa. Indonesia, Bandung: Persetan Record. Giannattasio, F. (2017). Prospective on 21st century comparative musicology: An introduction. In F. Giannattasio & G. Giurati (Eds.), Perspectives on a 21st century comparative musicology: Ethnomusicology or transcultural musicology? (pp. 10–29). Udine: Nota. Giannattasio, F. & Giurati, G. (Eds.). (2017). Perspectives on a 21st century comparative musicology: Ethnomusicology or transcultural musicology? Udine: Nota. Wallach, J. (2008). Modern noise, fluid genres: Popular music in Indonesia, 1997 - 2001. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. Wallach, J. & Clinton, E. (2013). History, modernity, and music genre in Indonesia: Popular music genres in the Dutch East Indies and following independence. Asian Music, 44(2), 3-23. Retrieved from https://doi.org/10.1353/amu.2013.0020 Welsch, W. (2017). Transculturality - The puzzling form of cultures today. In F. Giannattasio & G. Giurati (Eds.), Perspectives on a 21st century comparative musicology: Ethnomusicology or transcultural musicology? (pp. 30-49). Udine: Nota. 258 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA ABSTRACTS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM OF THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA MAKING SUNDANESE MUSIC LOCAL AGAIN: GALENGAN SORA AWI’S BAMBOO MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS AND SUNDANESE MODERNITY Henry Spiller University of California, Davis, USA Abstract Bandung (the capital of West Java, Indonesia) has a profound sense of place, in part because of two important landmarks. Bisecting the city is the Cikapundung River, and looming over the area is the volcano Tangkuban Perahu. As Bandung’s population approached three million at the end of the 20th century, however, the Cikapundung became little more than a sewer, and air pollution obscured the view of Tangkuban Perahu. Bandung became indistinguishable from any other third-world city. In the first decades of the 21st century, Bandung’s residents, inspired by green movements across the globe, initiated a grassroots environmental movement. Interest in cleaning up the Cikapundung also spread to the poorer modern-day kampung residents who lived right on the river and occupied the lowest rungs of Bandung’s economic ladder. This paper introduces the bamboo musical group from one such neighbourhood—Galengan Sora Awi (hereafter GSA)—and examines how the group expresses a bottom-up approach in reconnecting to a Sundanese identity that is rooted firmly in a unique place—Bandung’s Dago neighbourhood on the Cikapundung. They achieve this connection by performing an eclectic repertory of Sundanese styles and genres, deploying idiosyncratic, homemade bamboo musical instruments for audiences and events that are associated closely with the physical environment of Bandung. For GSA, the path to renewing and reviving their connections to local human groups and to the landscapes that nurtured them, even in contemporary Bandung, is paved with bamboo. It is the revival of this very old technology that enables them to produce the musical instruments and perform a variety of genres once limited to specialists. Their musical activities fit well with the post-modern “do-it-yourself” (DIY) principles that drive alternative music scenes all over the world and are also associated with environmental and social reform movements. MAATAW – THE FLOATING ISLAND: PERFORMING ECO-CRITICISM FOR TAO PEOPLE THROUGH AN ARTISTIC APPLICATION OF RESEARCH FINDINGS Lin Wei-Ya University of Music and Performing Arts, Austria Abstract This paper is about the dance theatre production Maataw—the Floating Island (2016), a production based on the indigenous Tao’s singing and dancing traditions by the Formosa Aboriginal Song and Dance Troupe (chi. 原舞者). The Tao (chi. 達悟 or Yami 雅美) are one of the sixteen recognized indigenous groups in Taiwan, who live on Orchid Island (chi. Lanyu 蘭嶼) southeast of the main island of Taiwan. Their language is orally transmitted. The traditional music of the Tao consists primarily of songs. Through singing, they transmit their history, views of life, and taboos. Like among many other indigenous societies, keeping the balance between the ecological environment and human society is one of the most essential perceptions of value in their tradition. Since the 1950s, many policies have been undertaken by the Taiwanese government, aiming to support “development” and “modernization” for ethnic minorities. Consequently, the Tao veered away from their traditional religion and practices, as for example by using the economic and monetary system imposed by Taiwan since 1967, and in 1971 the island was opened for tourism. In 1980, an “intermediate deposit” for “weak” radioactive waste was established on the island, with many scams and close cooperation between the Taiwan Power Company and the government. In 2009, radioactive substances were found outside of the dumpsite on Orchid Island. 259 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA In order to integrate indigenous tradition into contemporary arts, such as in the production Maataw, it is feasible to apply anthropological and ethnomusicological methods during the creative processes of composition and choreography. Which problems emerge in such an endeavour, and which strategies can be applied? How does the production Maataw interpret the Tao’s past, and how can political issues be transmutated into movements and sounds? These questions are addressed and discussed in my paper. SOUND, POWER, AND DEATH: THE ROYAL FUNERAL OF HRH KING RAMA IX (Lightning Paper) Deborah Wong University of California, Riverside, USA Abstract The funeral for King Rama IX was held in Bangkok on October 25-30, 2017 after a year of national mourning. My presentation addresses three main points. First, I propose an intermedia methodology for ethnomusicological research on huge, multifaceted, public events. This historic funeral sprawled across days and locations; it defied any simple access. How can ethnomusicologists address the opportunities and contradictions of mass information available through social media and state media outlets? I propose an intermedia method that reaches purposefully across sources and perspectives, showing how we can interpolate our on-the-ground ethnographic documentation with materials gathered or generated by others. Second, I address the musics and soundscapes of the five-day funeral, deploying my intermedia methodology. Overlapping soundscapes are a mark of high social status in Thai funerals (Wong, 1998). Multiple ensembles were featured in the King’s funeral (nang hong, bua loy, krabuan chalaung, military bands, etc.) along with the amplified sound of Buddhist monks chanting. The night before the cremation, three huge stages featured simultaneous performances of court dance drama, jazz bands, ballet, and more. Songs composed by the late King were piped into malls and played by street buskers. The rhizophonic character and recombinatoriality of these sounds and styles (Piekut & Stanyek, 2010) was not sonic worlds colliding, but rather the very definition of royal power. Third, I reflect on mourning, love, and anxiety in a time of political precarity and deep uncertainties. The current prime minister—a general who staged a successful coup in 2014 and then installed himself as the country’s leader—presided over the funeral along with the new King. Some people waiting on the street to pay their respects to the late King said they were there because they “loved Father” (rak phau): grief and love were comingled in the responses of ordinary people. THE SONG OF SRI TANJUNG: A STORY OF SPIRIT JOURNEY IN ANCIENT JAVANESE CULTURE (Film) Yohanes Hanan Pamungkas Universitas Negeri Surabaya, Indonesia Abstract Illustrated by poetry and song which is taken from the Sri Tanjung Book, this film tells the story of the meeting of Sri Tanjung with Sidapaksa who then becomes her husband. Sidapaksa works as a warrior for the king Sulakrama, but the king wants Sri Tanjung for his own. Because of that, the king sends Sidapaksa to a place far away in order to separate him from his wife. The life Sri Tanjung and Sidapaksa was inspired by love and then death that almost separated them. Sri Tanjung experienced the dramatic period when she should die by the hand of her husband to prove that she is a faithful wife. The death of Sri Tanjung takes this drama to the world of spirits. Her spirit journey was finished when Sri Tanjung meets with a figure called Ra Nini, that is, Durga who keeps the door of internal death. After Sri Tanjung related why she died, Durga refused Sri Tanjung’s death and returned her to the living world. Sidapaksa, who still regretted killing his wife, was 260 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA surprised and joy full because his lovely wife was alive again. Sidapaksa was very disappointed with the king Sulakrama. Supported by the village population, he successfully beat the king. Sidapaksa and Sri Tanjung finally became a king and wife. This film is also uses dance to visualize some scenes of Sri Tanjung and includes some expertise on Javanese culture about the concept of death in a Javanese community. The story of the spiritual journey of Sri Tanjung is very popular from ancient times in Java, and recently in Bali also. The relief of Sri Tanjung riding a fish while on the spiritual journey is found in several Hindu temples in Java from XII to the XV Century. Recently the Sri Tanjung Story became a legend important to the city of Banyuwangi, East Java Region, Indonesia. SHARING K-POP CHOREOGRAPHY ACROSS THE BORDER: DANCE COVER ACTIVITIES IN THE MALAYSIAN CHINESE DIASPORA (Lightning Paper) Sangwoo Ha Universiti Pendidikan Sultan Idris, Malaysia Abstract This paper concentrates on K(orean)-pop dance cover activities conducted by the Malaysian young generation, especially the Malaysian Chinese youth. Many of the Chinese youth in Malaysia have replicated via social media (YouTube, Facebook and Instagram) and dance cover competitions hosted by K’Storm and Dancedeets since the 2010s. My curiosity is aroused about how the Chinese youth re-make and re-perform K-pop dances coming from across the border of Malaysia, where various races and cultures have co-existed. Malaysia has been called the multicultural and multi-confessional country. K-pop music belongs to South Korean pop-culture, but K-pop dance music is currently the most prevalent among Malaysian young people. As more and more dance music is popular, the fandom of Korean girls and boys dance groups, called idol groups, gets larger in the Malaysian Chinese community. Some go into imitating performances of the idol groups, forming professional and non-professional cover dance teams. What is noticeable here is that the Malaysian government countenances cultural opening by policy, which allows the younger generation to open their mind to K-pop dance music and to be accustomed to producing dance covers in their own bodies. I collect oral testimony to dance cover activities of the Malaysian Chinese youth through interviews of young participants who are active as members of several dance cover teams in Kuala Lumpur. This investigation lets me explore why the youth turns away their eyes to K-pop dance coming from across the border. It also enables me to look over what meanings the youth dissolve into their K-pop dance covers. This research makes clear that dance is seen as a global communication medium beyond racial and cultural barriers when being transmitted from one country to another. MAJORITY OR MINORITY: VIETNAMESE MUSIC SCENE IN THE FIRST SQUARE, TAICHUNG CITY, TAIWAN (Lightning Paper) Kuo Ta-Hsin Tainan National University of the Arts, Taiwan Abstract Vietnamese music has become a part of the unique music scene in Taichung City located in central-west Taiwan, and with an estimated population of 40,000 Vietnamese since the increasing population of Vietnamese migrant workers and spouses from the 1990s. Based on my fieldwork from 2015 to 2017 in the First Square, Taichung City, I have observed that Vietnamese music (Nhạc Vàng, Nhạc Bolero, Nhạc Trẻ, etc.) is generally heard in restaurants and cafés where Vietnamese migrant workers from different regions spend their leisure time. 261 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA However, in accordance with the New Southbond Policy, the Taichung City government now not only aims to transform the First Square to a more commercial and tourism oriented landscape, but also emphasizes on the multicultural aspect of the city. Derived from this motivation, the Taichung City government holds a series of festivals associated with Vietnamese culture in attempts to enhance ethnic integration. As a result, tourists, students, and researchers flock to the place, bringing tremendous changes. Also, political propaganda and Mandarin pop music disrupt our sensual perception of a Vietnamese based community in the First Square. This paper will focus on how Vietnamese migrant works and foreign spouses form the unique Vietnamese communities in the First Square. The political involvement and the impacts on the Vietnamese music scene will also be discussed. Is such music scene still the trending phenomenon in the First Square, or has it become a part of touristic scene of Taichung City? Finally, I will represent the Vietnamese music scene in the First Square with reflexive ethnography, and show the results of my involvement. UNIQUELY SINGAPORE: NANYANG-STYLED COMPOSITIONS OF THE SINGAPORE CHINESE ORCHESTRA (Lightning Paper) Lee Ming-Yen Nanhua Univeristy, Taiwan Abstract Founded in 1997, the Singapore Chinese Orchestra (Xinjiapo huayue tuan 新加坡華樂團) is the youngest professional modern Chinese orchestra in the Greater China region. Unlike the modern Chinese Orchestras of mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan that seek to celebrate “Chineseness” and collaborate with one another across the straits, the Singapore Chinese Orchestra attempts to highlight the “Southeast Asianness” of the Chinese diaspora in their musical performances. This paper examines the Nanyang-Styled (Nanyang feng 南洋風) Compositions of the Singapore Chinese Orchestra, focusing on their commissioned compositions as well as music pieces composed for composition competitions. Drawing Tu Wei-Ming’s (1991) concept of “Cultural China,” which he argues that the “periphery” displaced China as the cultural centre for the articulation of “Chineseness,” this study demonstrates how Chinese musicians in the Southeast Asian “periphery” emerged as musicians of a “Cultural China.” It argues that the Singapore Chinese Orchestra produces the Nanyang-Styled Compositions to present the hybridized identity of the Chinese in Southeast Asia. By mixing elements of modern Chinese orchestra with Southeast Asian musical styles, the Singapore Chinese Orchestra produces an uniquely Singaporean Chinese music—modern Chinese orchestra music with Southeast Asian characteristics. ‘DISAVOWED FREEDOM’: THE DECONTEXTUALIZATION OF IGAL (DANCE) TRADITION Hafzan Zannie Hamza Sultan Idris Education University, Malaysia Abstract Among the Bajau community in Semporna, Sabah, igal (dance) or mag-igal (dancing) is an integral element in ritual performances as well as secular events such as weddings and festive celebrations, which includes the annual Regatta Lepa Festival. During rituals, igal is performed by female or male spirit mediums, dancing as a soloist. On the other hand, within non-ritual contexts, Bajau dancers can perform solo or in groups. Outside the Bajau community, igal is performed by non-Bajaus for various occasions, usually as a showcase item in a general program of cultural dance performances or as a commodity of tourism. Igal, or widely (and wrongly) known as tarian igal-igal, has been presented as an indigenous dance tradition that is both entertaining and aesthetically pleasing to the eye of the viewers. However, the changes in performance spaces, from the inside-to-outside of Bajau culture, and from the sacred-to-secular context requires a 262 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA culturally constructed structured movement system to be appropriately renamed, rearranged, recontextualized and reproduced in a coordinated, standardized and regulated manner in order to conform to the multi-layered expectations of diverse audiences and patrons. This overhaul is needed due to the desperate reliance on ‘imported’ trainers, limited resources and restrictions in collecting empirical material. This paper asserts that igal, when performed outside its cultural context and understanding, has resulted in the absence of underlying choreographic principles of performer-as-composer, which in turn has consequently disavowed the freedom to create and to nurture individuality in innovative individual techniques, styles and motif compositions. THE RE-INVENTION OF THAI CLASSICAL DANCE: CHANGE AND THE NEW TRADITION (Lightning Paper) Pawinee Boonserm Thammasat University, Thailand Abstract The period after the end of the World War II is seen as the beginning of a phase of revival of classical dance in Thailand. The Fine Arts Department revival of Thai classical dance began a process of defining classicalism and transformed the value and function of court dance. During this period, the Fine Arts Department directly reconstructed dance-drama and become the most powerful patron of classical dance by establishing the Office of Performing Arts with a specific remit to propagate classical dance-drama in Thai society. The main purpose of this paper is to examine how the government reinvented the classical Thai dance and its practice, when a rising sense of Thai nationalism stimulated the redefinition of Thai classical dance as national heritage. My central argument is that the traditional dance training as it occurs today is a result of the productions of the neo-traditional dance-dramas reconstructed as part of this project of cultural revivalism. In this paper, I specifically analyse the forms of Lakhon dance-dramas that were revived during 1940s-1960s and were promoted as representing the defining “classical” traditions of Thai dance. This dance was the neo-classical dance which the Fine Arts Department reconstructed in the mid-1940s and which was then transmitted to the new generation as if it were preserved tradition. The Fine Arts Department also played an important role in setting a standard not only for classical performances but also for the documents concerning those performances. The Fine Arts Department propagated knowledge about Thai classical dance and theatre to the wider public, and changed what the people understand by classical dance. The versions of the history of Thai dance-drama written during the revivalist period were operative. These histories also produced a standardized version of Thai dance practice, and the knowledge of Thai drama today has been conditioned by this historical writing. BRINGING THE BANGSAL TO STAGE: PERFORMING THE URBAN MEK MULUNG IN COLLABORATION WITH PERFORMERS OF KAMPUNG WANG TEPUS (Lightning Paper) Nur Izzati Jamalludin King’s College London, United Kingdom Abstract Mek Mulung is a dance-drama that originates from Wang Tepus, Kedah; a state in the northern Peninsular Malaysia. About over a decade, the performance of the concertized urban Mek Mulung has soared in popularity within performing art enthusiasts in urban areas, mainly in the country’s capital, Kuala Lumpur. Promoted through various platforms, positive responses of the performance reflect the demand of the urban Mek Mulung. This indirectly created two forms of Mek Mulung, with their two separate identities. One is the village or kampung performance, normally performed in bangsal or makeshift stage and the other, the urban style. These two styles of Mek Mulung have existed separately over the period. The urban performances 263 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA mainly dominate urban cities such as Kedah’s capital, Alor Setar and Kuala Lumpur, while the kampung Mek Mulung remained almost exclusively in Wang Tepus. The “post-revival” (Howard, 2016) Mek Mulung in urban areas allows Mek Mulung to appeal to urban audiences while helping the performance to expand beyond its local territory of the kampung, Wang Tepus. The increased popularity of the urban Mek Mulung however, caused a large number of people within the nation to associate the Mek Mulung with the urban performance and neglecting the other. This paper explores the possibilities of an initiative to bring a combined kampung and urban Mek Mulung performance versions through a student performance at Universiti Malaya, Kuala Lumpur in December 2016. The performance incorporated three main performers of Mek Mulung from Wang Tepus to perform alongside the dance and theatre undergraduate students of Universiti Malaya. Discussions will include the creative development process of the performance. An expected outcome of this process is more improved collaborations between styles and the generations’ groups to help each other’s viability and vitality in sustaining the performance for generations to come. ICONS OF MALAY IDENTITY IN THE MUSICAL ARTS OF INDONESIA’S RIAU ARCHIPELAGO: CONCEPTS OF SPACE, PLACE AND GENERATIVE MEMORY CODES Margaret Kartomi Monash University, Australia Abstract When the post-colonial state of Indonesia committed itself to democracy and local autonomy in 1999, the Riau Islanders lobbied against decades of “internal colonialism” and neglect by mainland Riau of which they were part, and were granted permission to establish their own autonomous Riau Islands Province. The new Riau Islands government encouraged the province’s adat and artistic communities in its five regencies and two metropolises to choose the music, dance and theatre forms of which they were most proud, and to promote and revitalise them as their local icons of identity, including at the grand international Festival of Malay Civilisation held in the capital, Tanjung Pinang, in 2013. Based largely on field work and a few existing studies, this paper presents accounts of the hitherto unresearched history, functions and performance styles of these icons and other significant repertoire, arguing that their changing performance styles to meet contemporary needs are still based on traditional Malay concepts of space, place, and generative memory codes. DANCE PRACTICES AND COMPOSITION IN THE INDONESIAN-MALAY MENDU THEATRICAL FORM OF RIAU’S NATUNA ISLANDS Karen Thomas Monash University, Australia Abstract This study examines the dance practices of mendu theatre, a relatively unknown Indonesian-Malay theatre form performed in Natuna in Riau Islands province. It describes and compares the dance motifs from two case studies based on mendu performances that I watched and recorded, firstly in Ceruk village near the capital Ranai in 1984 where spirit generation and lifestyle events were central to village life, and secondly, nearly 30 years later on the tiny offshore island of Sedenau, where an official revitalised form arose due to socio-political change after autonomy. Comparisons show that the movements of dance motifs from Ceruk and Sedenau performances appeared unrelated and were embodied by actors in stylistically diverse ways. Yet a further comparative analysis between the dance practices of the two regions and eras showed that a common method of composition, one that was generative and based on motifs has, in fact, remained firmly intact and deeply embedded in the artists’ compositional psyche and practices. This research highlights that while socio-political change demanded a significant revamping of mendu’s across-the-arts practices in 264 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA particular dance, one area where actors did not comply-whether consciously or not-was in the generative method of dance composition carried out on stage in real time. HANDS PERCUSSION: PERFORMING COSMOPOLITANISM THROUGH MUSICAL ALLIANCES ACROSS THE GLOBE (Lightning Paper) Clare Suet Ching Chan Universiti Pendidikan Sultan Idris, Malaysia Abstract Hands Percussion is a percussion ensemble formed by the Chinese of Malaysia in 1997. Their performances have transcended from ethnic seclusion of Chinese drumming rhythms to national inclusivity, as Hands Percussion embraced the local soundscapes of Malaysia by incorporating Malay and Indian music into their performances. In recent years, Hands Percussion has explored global soundscapes through their musical alliances with performing artists around the world. In “Wind of Nomads” (2017), Hands collaborated with Dafra Drums from the USA and Burkina Faso to introduce sounds from the djembes and kora of the Manding Empire (West Africa), synchronizing the complex rhythms of the African talking drum with the Indian tabla and the newly invented Swiss hang drum. This paper explores the changing identities of cosmopolitan musicians whose opportunities for international musical alliances are enhanced by 1) advanced technology in transportation, communication and technology, and 2) embracing the concept of ‘cosmopolitanism’. I examine the term ‘cosmopolitanism’ through the notion of a ‘world citizen’, someone who is less bounded by traditional geopolitical and cultural divisions derived from national citizenship and more global in their creative and conceptual frameworks for performance compositions. Embracing this concept allows Hands Percussion performers to create new musical productions that represent the contemporary identity of Malaysians today (2017). Through interviews with Hands Percussion artistic directors and performers, this paper examines the learning process, intercultural experience and creative production of a contemporary Hands Percussion. ROUNDTABLE: ADVOCATING CULTURAL AND SOCIAL CHANGE THROUGH THE PERFORMING ARTS BUILDING INTERETHNIC PEACE AMONG YOUNG PEOPLE IN PENANG THROUGH COMMUNITY MUSICAL THEATRE Tan Sooi Beng Universiti Sains Malaysia, Malaysia Abstract Stemming from concerns that Malaysian society is becoming more divided and segregated along ethnoreligious and cultural lines, I have actively searched for and created alternative bottom-up methodologies to bridge intercultural gaps that are crucial for the construction of a more inclusive Malaysian nation and sustainable peace. This paper attempts to elaborate on the strategies and challenges encountered in my own musical-theatre projects for young people that emphasize devising local plays based on oral history and observation among the local multiethnic communities. In particular, the approach of crossing boundaries through the use of multiethnic casts who negotiate the stage in multiple accents, languages, and performance idioms, makes the play accessible to all of the ethnic groups in the audience, as they can understand the languages and identify with the scenarios in their daily lives. Crossing boundaries and hybridity also helps the participants themselves to learn about the cultures of other ethnic groups, respect differences and hence move beyond cultural and racial stereotypes. My premise is that inter-ethnic peace occurs when divided groups begin to talk to and work with one another. In this regard, community musical theatre workshops represent an ideal space for multiethnic young people 265 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA to deal with issues of ethnicity through collaborative ensemble work. At the same time, audiences are able to see and experience the complexities of race and cultural interaction being performed on stage. ROUNDTABLE: ADVOCATING CULTURAL AND SOCIAL CHANGE THROUGH THE PERFORMING ARTS WAYANG KULIT PERFORMANCE AS A TOOL TO IMPROVE THE COGNITIVE DEVELOPMENT IN CEREBRAL PALSY CHILDREN Mumtaz Begum Aboo Backer Universiti Sains Malaysia, Malaysia Abstract Wayang Kulit or shadow theatre is an ancient performance practice that continues to be sustained as a ritual and secular performance by the Malaysian local community. This paper explores the possibilities of using Wayang Kulit as an innovative learning medium or tool to enhance the cognitive development of cerebral palsy children. As such, this research looks at how performative elements in Wayang Kulit can be employed as devices to improve the ability of cerebral palsy children to learn, to sequence and to reason. This article brings forth three key performance elements; “role-play”, “story-telling” and the “use of space” as explorative assessment methods to study the cognitive improvement of these children through a series of workshops leading to a full theatrical Wayang Kulit performance at the Cerebral Palsy Children’s Association of Penang. Findings of this study show that there is a significant improvement in the children’s abilities to: memorize the script, present the script in a story-telling manner, transcend between the dramatic characters and present reality, and also understand the mechanism of the performative setting of the stage (on and off stage). ROUNDTABLE: ADVOCATING CULTURAL AND SOCIAL CHANGE THROUGH THE PERFORMING ARTS PERFORMANCE AS AN EXPRESSIVE TOOL TO VOICE CULTURAL IDENTITY AMONG REFUGEE CHILDREN: A CASE OF ROHINGYA REFUGEE COMMUNITIES Pravina Manoharan Universiti Sains Malaysia, Malaysia Abstract Over the years, debates regarding refugee communities have attracted primarily negative and challenging discourses, particularly those concerning issues of culture and identity. In light of their refugee status, these communities often have limited excess to express aspects of their cultural and social identity. This paper is part of a short-term research grant project that explores how music and drama function as mediatory tools that empower the voices of refugee children aged between 10 and 14 years of age. I refer to the Rohingya community as a case study to develop a music and drama program that contains elements of Rohingya culture and music as an innovative tool to help these children improve social skills and express their cultural identity as Rohingyas in Malaysia. The program is also aimed at helping them build greater self-esteem and gradually overcome issues of social anxiety, a problem many of these children face as members of a marginalised community. Music and drama programs have proven to be effective expressive tools in allowing children to overcome their emotional and psychological turmoil (Dokter, 2005; Hogan & Coulter 2014). However, in Malaysia, while such programs have been carried out within the primary education system, its positive and promising influences have not reached the children of refugee communities. Interviews were conducted with 15 adult representatives from the Rohingya community in Penang to gather information on their traditional/folk musical and cultural practices. Following this, the children were taught simple musical elements like rhythm and melody, which helped create a foundation 266 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA from where elements of their traditional music could be introduced. Preliminary findings reveal that the majority of these children demonstrate a keen interest in learning their traditional folk music. Children are more vocal and willing to participate in musical activities rather than engage in verbal conversations. ROUNDTABLE: ADVOCATING CULTURAL AND SOCIAL CHANGE THROUGH THE PERFORMING ARTS RAISING SOCIAL ISSUES THROUGH FOLK SONGS, LOCAL GESTURES AND MOVEMENT IN DEVISED PLAYS A.S. Hardy Shafii Universiti Sains Malaysia, Malaysia Abstract Theatre performances are one of the best tools to inform, influence, entertain, educate and disseminate local and scientific knowledge as well as to provoke the minds of the people about social issues. Theatre activists like Augusto Boal have restored theatre to its place as a popular form of communication and expression (Boal, 1992). Boal demonstrates the way in which theatre has come to reflect ruling-class control, drawing on the theories of Aristotle and Machiavelli. More importantly, he stresses the need to make alternative theatre that is entertaining, fun, and intrusive. According to Schechner (1992), this type of approach is social therapy as it focuses the mind, relaxes the spirit, giving people a new handle on their situations. This paper explores how local folk songs and expressions through gestures can be utilised in devised plays to address socio-political issues or dissatisfaction towards higher authority, community or an individual in power. Folk songs, originating among the people of a country or area and passed down by oral tradition, is an appropriate tool for communication (Cambridge, 1995). However, the selection of folk songs and local gestures must be studied, analysed and acted out to ensure the songs are related to the theme and concept of the play. Lyrics of the songs and the theme song are also vital for a strong message to be communicated through satirical acts or movements. In this discussion, Malaysian folk songs such as “Enjit-Enjit Semut”, “Bangau Oh! Bangau” and “Lenggang-Lenggang Kangkung” are analysed in the devised plays entitled “Reflections on anOTHER” (performed in Shanghai, 2014), “The Sound of Silence” (Singapore, 2015) and “Kiri Kanan” (New Delhi, 2016). It is imperative to note that these folk songs are not only producing beautiful melodies and rhythms but the message through the lyrics can be manipulated to express socio-political commentaries. TANDA DE VALSE AND ITS MODE OF PRODUCTION IN NINETEENTH-CENTURY MANILA Arwin Q. Tan University of the Philippines, Philippines Abstract This paper examines the proliferation of tanda de valse in Manila during the late nineteenth century, and its eventual decline at the outset of American colonization in the early twentieth century. The evolving Filipino middle class of the late nineteenth century established intertwining social relations that were enhanced in private musical gatherings—tertulias—which were usually highlighted by waltz music, the favoured instrumental dance form. A suite of waltzes known as tanda de valse was probably stylized and not really meant as accompaniment for dancing. A number of Filipino composers—penínsulares, creoles, and indigenas—participated in the production of this musical genre, utilizing the established forces of production such as the rise of publishing companies and the emerging prominence of piano as a domesticated instrument, for its circulation. By the end of the nineteenth century, tanda de valse became a standard genre in a Filipino composer’s creative profile. The transformation of taste and the concurrent changing mode of production for dance entertainment music by Manila’s bourgeoning middle class, particularly the shift from the stylized tanda de valse to the 267 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA preference for American dance music that flourished in public cabarets, reflect how a number of changing relations and forces of production have resulted from the new overarching political and economic superstructure of American imperialism. This study seeks to analyse why tanda de valse ceased to proliferate during the American colonial period, and in lieu of it, what new instrumental genre/s flourished? Were the new socio-political and economic changes imposed by the new imperial government instrumental in the decline of its production? FROM “LELENG” TO “NOVELTY SONG”: MOVEMENT OF A MUSIC ACROSS CATEGORICAL DEFINITIONS IN THE PHILIPPINES Jose S Buenconsejo University of the Philippines, Philippines Abstract The term “novelty song” in the category of “popular music” in the Philippines is an ironic term for while it is called “novel”, it is, however, central to the expressive culture of the majority of Filipinos. The seeming marginalization of “novelty song” in the market can be commonly attributed to the effect of xenocentrism in which locally produced recordings that mimic the sounds of the “imported” are better valued and appreciated. I would however argue beyond this that part of the reason why “novelty songs” is termed “novel” has to do with (1) its local style, which marks it too contrastive with the dominant styles of music produced by mainstream music industry, and (2) that this type of music has affinity with a parallel genre that is practiced by indigenous Filipinos. Most indigenous communities in the Philippines possess light-hearted songs that are more or less metered and in syllabic style and sung for entertainment. In this paper, I explore the continuity between the indigenous and folk, which terms are artefacts of the country’s colonial histories. I investigate in particular the Tausug “leleng” genre from Southern Philippines, a tune which was borrowed by the “novelty song” songwriter Max Surban from the Visayan region. This became very popular throughout the Philippines at one point. The national popularity of this song was unprecedented and thus the term “novelty song” becomes a misleading label for a marginalized genre that was in fact hugely popular. FIGHTING BACK VIA FLIPTOP: MANILA’S TAKE ON HIPHOP BATTLES (Lightning Paper) Lara Mendoza Ateneo de Manila University, Philippines Abstract Using Tricia Rose’s contention that hiphop is a means for African-American youth from the inner cities to express their resistance to smothering class and social conditions in America, my paper will contend that in Manila’s teeming streets, hiphop battles known as fliptop offer not only the disenfranchised a platform in which to express their bottled-up sentiments but also to create a space of refuge or community of practitioners in the rhythmic ritual of rap. The sample of hiphop artists in this paper will include university students as well as the average bloke from urban poor enclaves in the city. It will note the popularity of such a medium that sprang from the efforts of a young university graduate who sought to localize the rap battle scene he was exposed to in the United States. Literary devices such as rhyme and word play determine what rap spiels resonate with spirited fans; the witty master is one with a clear advantage in such battles. R-18 content involving body-shaming, mother-insulting, and the unapologetic use of expletives, among others, are the spice that appeal and entertain, echoing Bakhtinian carnivalesque in the enjoyment of ribald humour and guttural conventions of Manila’s gritty streets. 268 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA FILIPINO INDIE ARTISTS’ IMPACT TO POPULAR MUSIC AUDIENCES (Lightning Paper) Ma. Christina P. Cayabyab University of the Philippines, Philippines Abstract This paper presents how significant 21st century Filipino indie artists based in Metro Manila have continued to straddle between the ideological practices of the independent and popular music systems, eventually reaching a different plane of renown to a wider reach of audiences in the Philippines as well as within Southeast Asia. Through the case studies of vocally-identified Up Dharma Down, rapper and hip-hop artist Abra, young folk-driven band The Ransom Collective, dance rock and electronica-based Autotelic, acoustic guitarist and songwriter Bullet Dumas, and all-around artist Reese Lansangan, important factors from each artist that are both unique from and similar to the others are identified as contributors to their impact in the popular music market. At least two of these indie artists, if not all, have worked within the avenues of (1) releasing an album in physical and/or digital formats and having their music made available on Spotify and Apple Music, (2) performing in venues beyond the gig circuit, such as in malls, major concert grounds, university events, television and radio show appearances, and corporate-produced events, (3) making themselves visible through various social media platforms, having their own websites as well, and garnering a significant number of followers, (4) performing outside Metro Manila and having performances overseas, and (5) receiving recognition from popular award-giving bodies. This study shows how an independent artist, especially in the era of the indomitable Internet, can freely and successfully achieve popularity in a mainstream sense, by being an active agent towards his/her chosen artistic direction. PERFORMING RAMAYANA: CONTACT ZONE, SINGAPORE INDIAN DANCERS AND THEIR REFLEXIVITY (Lightning Paper) Yoshiaki Takemura National Museum of Ethnology, Japan Abstract The commercial and cultural exchange between India and other regions, especially Southeast Asia, that was influenced by the historical process of Indianization, resulted in the introduction of the Great epic, Ramayana, in these countries. In each of these countries, the Ramayana played a significant role in the development of the written language and oral tradition, apart from transforming into other art forms including drama, dance, shadow plays, paintings, sculpture, and architecture. Thus, over a long period of time, the Ramayana created its own cultural sphere in India and the Southeast Asian regions. However, the situation is slightly different in Singapore. Indian migration and settlement began in the early 19th century and the development of Indian dance and music occurred over the 20th century in the region. Accordingly, the Ramayana traditions were predominantly maintained among the Indian diaspora. Culture and tradition play an important part in maintaining “Indianness” among the Indian diaspora overseas. In the current situation of postmodernity and globalization, performing arts is increasingly drawn from intercultural creativity and located in the multicultural context. Without exception, traditional performing arts such as Indian dance are facing a new dimension in modern society. Today, Singapore Indian dance groups often represent Singapore as a symbol of multicultural society at international events and arts festivals, including the Ramayana Festivals both domestically and internationally. This paper will focus on the dynamics of “contact zone” among the Singapore Indian dancers and their encounter with Southeast Asia at the Ramayana Festivals in India and Southeast Asia. It will investigate the enjoyment of the Ramayana tradition and the cultural policy in Singapore and also explore the reflexive processes that occur in the construction and representation of identity among Singapore Indian dancers through their experiences. 269 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA CROSSING BORDERS THROUGH POPULAR PERFORMANCE: A COMPARATIVE STUDY BETWEEN SOUTHERN-THAI AND MALAY MENORA (Lightning Paper) Kanit Sripaoraya University Malaysia Kelantan, Malaysia Abstract This paper focuses on the popular performance called ’Nora’ which is very well known among SouthernThai communities, in the provinces of Nakorn Si Thammarat, Phatthalung and Songkhla as well as in the Northern states of Malaysia, namely Kedah and Kelantan. It functions as a ‘folk dance’ for entertaining Siamese and Southern Thai people as well as a ’ritual performance’ in healing the illness caused by the spirits and vow fulfilment. The performance elements and functions of Nora are quite similar from place to place because it has shared some cultural roots in previous times, but each Nora was adapted in different ways under new cultural, social and political conditions since the nation-states of Thailand and Malaysia were mapped. Southern Thai Nora was influenced by the indigenous culture and the concept of ’Buddhist-Thai’, while Malay Menora in Kedah and Kelantan were interweaved by the ancient Siamese culture together with the new cultural interaction between Southern Thai and Malay. This presentation will analyse the identity of Nora which was shaped and formed by the concept of shared-culture and cross-culture, and participatory research in anthropological fieldwork is applied. ASEAN POP: CONTEMPORARY POP MUSIC WITH RICH AND DIVERSE TRADITIONS (Lightning Paper) Isabella Pek Academy of Arts, Culture and Heritage (ASWARA), Malaysia Abstract In conjunction with the 31st ASEAN Summit, the ASEAN Music Festival was held at the Ayala Triangle Garden in Manila. Not only did bands from the Philippines perform, groups from Malaysia, Myanmar, Thailand, Brunei, Laos, Vietnam and Indonesia joined in the festival, each presented their take of contemporary popular music with traditional or cultural elements. Inspired by the report by CNN Philippines, entitled ‘After K-Pop and J-Pop, what about ‘ASEANpop?’ wherein the reporter interviewed the performing musicians in this ASEAN Music Festival, I aim to discuss what common traits these musicians share, why they were chosen by their respective ministries of culture to perform at such a political platform, and what ASEAN Pop can possibly result from such regional music festivals. GOYANG KARAWANG: EXPLORATION OF WOMENS’ BODY BETWEEN RITES AND FIESTA (Lightning Paper) Citra Aryandari Citra Research Centre, Indonesia Abstract This study discusses Goyang Karawang, which brings eroticism of a woman's body in its shows. Eroticism presented through swaying hips is inseparable from the history that surrounds this performance. The shift of Karawang district (32 miles east of Jakarta, Indonesia) from agriculture to industrial transformed the culture of the area. During the agriculture period, almost the entire population of Karawang were farmers and a performance known as Bajidoran was used as a fertility rite to celebrate the harvest. The swaying hips of the dancers in Bajidoran later evolved into the cultural identity of the region and was later known as Goyang 270 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA Karawang. In the 1990's Goyang Karawang was also known as a dangdut song title that described the condition of the culture. Karawang has developed into an industrial city and Bajidoran adapted to the change. The area now is popularly associated with Goyang Karawang that commodifies the female body and can be found in numerous related texts. This simple presentation is about the cultural phenomena that occurred in Karawang and Goyang Karawang’s existence as a cultural text cannot be separated from the study of music, history, society and gender. This research and writing is within the scope of Cultural Studies and ethnography which was used in data collection. THE GENDERING OF GENDER: EXPLORING FEMININITY AND THE FEMALE ROLE IN BALINESE SHADOW THEATRE MUSIC Meghan Hynson Duquesne University, USA Abstract Traditionally, Balinese music has been played and performed by men; however, in the past several decades, women have started to occupy major roles in female gamelan groups and in Balinese music pedagogy. Ideas of femininity in Balinese gamelan music are encapsulated in Balinese religion, philosophical concepts, and music theory, lending to a multifaceted lens through which to explore gender in Balinese music studies. This paper explores how gendered associations arise in the context of the music for the Balinese shadow puppet theatre, gender wayang. The gendering of gender wayang is first explored through oral accounts, esoteric written sources such as the Prakempa lontar (palm leaf manuscript) and other academic works that present historical and ideological perspectives on the relationship between gender and Balinese gamelan music. Interviews with present-day female teachers and professors of gender wayang, most notably I Putu Hartini and Ni Ketut Suryatini, provide a native perspective on being female teachers of gender wayang music. Their stories of modern gender wayang culture offer a look into the career opportunities that gender wayang is providing for female artists. The author’s own stance as a female American ethnomusicologist contributes ideas about gendered subjectivities to this paper, as does the work and perspectives of other female ethnomusicologists who have studied gender wayang music. This paper suggests a female gendering of gender wayang through its musical characteristics and in how it has emerged as a new space for females to participate in defining and promulgating Balinese music. CELLO-DRUMMING IN INDONESIAN KERONCONG Andy McGraw University of Richmond, USA Abstract Keroncong, the string-band music of Indonesia, traces its roots to the introduction of Western string instruments to the archipelago beginning in the early sixteenth century. Although Yampolsky has provided analyses of the harmonic structures of the asli, stambul, and keroncong langgam subgenres, detailed analyses of the intricate keroncong langgam Jawa (KJW) style are rare. This paper redresses the lacunae. KJW is deeply inspired by Central Javanese gamelan. It is performed in two modes, also called slendro and pelog, and incorporates the tempo (irama) shifts characteristic of Javanese gamelan. The high ukulele (cak) is often associated with the gamelan’s siter, the mid ukulele (cuk) with the colotomic instruments, and the cello (selo) is analogous to the kendang drum. In the hands of an experienced performer of KJW, the selo can sound almost indistinguishable from a kendang. Despite this similarity, I never encountered a selo player who could actually play kendang. The principal question I explore in this paper is: How is it selo players have absorbed the sophisticated feel and timbres of kendang performance practice without direct experience? I present the first detailed transcriptions and analyses of selo performances and compare them with common kendang playing techniques and patterns. Kendang and selo performance practice converge in ways that appear difficult to 271 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA account for by casual osmosis, as if the complex patterns were simply “in the air,” as one selo player proposed. Whereas particular macro-rhythmic patterns are sometimes shared between selo and kendang, it is more often the highly subtle forms of micro-rhythm at particular structural points that link the two practices, suggesting a uniquely Central Javanese time-feel: a deep Javanese “groove” transcending style and instrument. A challenge of this paper is to account for this congruence without falling into essentialist notions of Javanese musicality. NEW NOSTALGIA: YOGYAKARTA’S ANNUAL KERONCONG FESTIVAL (Lightning Paper) Hannah Marie Standiford Fulbright Researcher, USA Abstract Yogyakarta’s annual keroncong festival, Pasar Keroncong Kotagede, started in 2015 with an aim to revive an interest in this music for younger audiences. Keroncong is a traditional Indonesian string band music which reached the peak of its popularity in the 1960s, and has since become a form associated with Independence era nostalgia. Pasar Keroncong Kotagede is the brainchild of artist and event curator Pak Djaduk Ferianto and Pak Natsir who runs a small NGO aimed at supporting cultural heritage. This paper will examine the aims of the curators and how they intend to realize them. Pak Djaduk’s vision was to include 70 percent newer, upcoming keroncong groups with 30 percent traditional, senior groups. The curators wanted to emphasize innovations within the idiom and break the image of keroncong as ‘outdated.’ Despite these aims, the posters and advertisements for this festival use fonts, filters and clothing suggestive of a generalized nostalgia that mixes visual signifiers from several historical periods. This paper will examine the aesthetics of nostalgia and the way keroncong may represent an abstract idea of nostalgia, popular among youth, which is not anchored to any particular era. ROUNDTABLE: SUSTAINABLE TOURISM POTENTIAL FOR THE WEST JAVANESE PERFORMANCE PRACTICES WAYANG GOLEK AND UNESCO’S INTANGIBLE CULTURAL HERITAGE LABELLING… 15 YEARS AFTER Sarah Anaïs Andrieu Centre Asie du Sud-Est, France Abstract Wayang golek is a rod puppet theatre extremely popular in West Java, Indonesia. In 2003, wayang golek was proclaimed as a Masterpiece of the oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by the UNESCO, as a subcategory of the generic item “Indonesian Wayang”. In 2008, after the Indonesian Republic ratified the UNESCO Convention for the Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage, Indonesian Wayang was integrated to the Representative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. In 2006-2009, I performed an extensive fieldwork research and tried to understand how a local family practice could become an international heritage. I showed that this international labelling had worked as an indicative of the many stakes behind the wayang golek practices, mainly in terms of national and regional identity claims. It also turned out that the new labelling was only extending a continuous effort of categorisation of the Indonesian performing arts, which started in the 19th century in the context of colonisation and was continued by the national cultural politics of the new Republic of Indonesia since 1945. In 2009, wayang was declared “safe” again by the Indonesian National Secretary for Wayang (Sena Wangi), and the question turned to how to make it profitable. This paper will study how this heritagization process is still taking place and the impact of it on the local level. 15 years after the first Proclamation, it will 272 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA focus on how wayang golek is nowadays “going international”. On the one hand, I will analyse wayang as integrated (or not) into Indonesian touristic politics, underlining the shift between national and regional (provincial) policies. On the other hand, I will explore how wayang golek is now subject to export, questioning the notions of cultural diplomacy and performances abroad. ROUNDTABLE: SUSTAINABLE TOURISM POTENTIAL FOR THE WEST JAVANESE PERFORMANCE PRACTICES PERFORMANCE AND SPECTACLE AS AN ELEMENT OF DOMESTIC TOURISM IN BANTEN KIDUL, WEST JAWA, INDONESIA Randal Baier Eastern Michigan University, USA Abstract This paper explores performative aspects of sustainable tourism in Kesepuhan Ciptagelar, a mountainous region of South Banten-Sukabumi, West Java, well-known for its musical performances and processions performed in concert with traditional agricultural practices and spiritual practices. Large-scale annual agricultural events and occasions such as Islamic and other calendric events attract a wide variety of Sundanese domestic and other visitors from the cities of Jakarta, Bandung and other regions of West Java. Virtually all ritual events are marked by music. Angklung, puppet theatre and percussion ensembles known as jipeng are essential aspects of these events. Many harvest-related festivals attract jaipongan dance ensembles or debus troupes. But apart from the obligatory music and spectacle, Ciptagelar culture holds something possibly more essential: Sundanese and other Indonesian tourists go there to experience the “old ways” of Sundanese life. For the indigenous tourist, Ciptagelar attracts ecologists and artists from Bandung, GPS and drone mapping experts from Jakarta, high school kids on know-your-traditions tours, amateur astronomers and foresters, even motocross adventurers, all who visit as a kind of “roots” experience, and local practices of everyday life tend to engage their personal interests. The region, however, is not isolated from modernity. Ciptagelar has its own Internet-based free telephone system, a local TV channel, cell phones, and hydroelectric power. To me, as an outsider, I’m curious how these traditions create a kind of brand for Ciptagelar. By one definition, “indigenous tourism can be defined as a tourism activity in which Indigenous people are directly involved either through control and/or by having their culture serve as the essence of the attraction.” The question I’d like to explore in this presentation is how do performances and musical events fit into this overall complex of cultural practices, and further to ask how this kind of tourism is constructed or maintained. ‘MAID’ INVISIBLE: MARGINALISED AND RECLAIMED SOUNDSCAPES OF FOREIGN DOMESTIC WORKERS IN SINGAPORE Shzr Ee Tan University of London, United Kingdom Abstract Migrants from the Philippines and Indonesia constitute an underclass serving as domestic workers in Southeast Asia’s cities, including the economically-prosperous Singapore. Frequently referred to by the derogatory term ‘maid’, members of these exclusively-female communities exist in state-legitimised frameworks of socioeconomic oppression. Their de-voiced existences, manifest in the physical aspects of their cut-off housing and constrained everyday lives, raise issues of visibility, representation and agency. And yet, it is often in the invisible and sonic immateriality that agency is often reclaimed. Channelling the work of Atkinson (2007) and DeNora (2013) this paper examines how seemingly abstract but empowering worlds of sound and music shape the experiences, daily routines, identity politics 273 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 5TH SYMPOSIUM: THE ICTM STUDY GROUP ON PERFORMING ARTS OF SOUTHEAST ASIA and well-being of transient communities, even as they also discipline social orders and private/public spaces. By this, I refer to how playlists of upbeat (or, conversely, nostalgic) tunes, stored in smartphones, provide a consolatory rhythm to daily chores when played through earphones in a cocoon. I study how, in regulated public appearances during the workers’ days off, diverse sound worlds co-created by workers and other parties regulate public places, and foster notions of otherness, togetherness, tolerance and community. I also investigate why high-volume tagalog or bahasa chatter in malls are construed as ‘noise made by foreigners’ by locals using the same spaces, capitulating to xenophobic fears, even as Chinese families use language to sonically exclude participants, hiding ‘in plain sight’ entire conversations at home. At the same time, I acknowledge that the soundscapes created or reacted to by the workers stake out their own important sonic public spaces. In the sanctuaries of churches and mosques, choirs and calls to prayer provide specific community-bonding experiences. Different legitimisations of migrants’ Southeast Asian civic identities within Singapore’s official multicultural society are also claimed via separate religious identifications with the sister Christian and Muslim brethren. 274

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