BALI: ISLAND OF THE GODS

Skribent:

César Alejandro Sojo Andrade

Bachelorstudent i sosialantropologi ved Universitetet i Bergen

Dancing in Bali

The Balinese call their home the island of the Gods (Pulau Dewata) (Dawkins, 1993, 32:35). It is often said that “all the land in Bali belongs to the gods and that a man only is privileged to work the lands during his lifetime.” (Belo, 1949, s. 7).

The Island of Bali stands at the eastern tip of Java, a bead in the necklace of 17,000 islands across the Indonesian Archipelago (SEAFDEC, 2022). Perhaps most people know Bali for the glittering waters of Jimbaran Bay, the rice paddies of Tegalalang and the ancient temples of Besakih and Tanah Lot. However at the core of Balinese culture lies the art of dance.

Art as Worship

The people of Bali have been dancing for over a thousand years. Whether under the rule of the Majapahit, Japanese or Dutch, the Balinese character never seems to yield to foreign empires. Under Dutch rule during the early 20th century, they passed laws prohibiting traditional Balinese dance as they perceived it to be “uncivilized”. However, the Balinese never ceased expressing themselves through dance, doing it in secrecy when necessary (Larasati, 2013, s. 82). In Bali, dancing is not restricted to a source of entertainment, through movement they attune to the spiritual world. The spirits use the dancer’s body as a vessel (Belo, 1960, s. 3).

There is no life in bali without religion, and there is no religion in bali without art (Dawkins, 1993, 02:34).

The Balinese religion, is a blend of Hindu Dharma and indigenous animism, positing that everything, from humans to animals, and plants, are imbued with a spiritual essence (Belo, 1949, s.7). The cosmology in Bali believes there are two dimensions to reality: the visible world (sekala) and the invisible world (niskala).

Sekala and niskala are in constant interplay complementing each other (Barth, 1992, s. 192). Through dance, Balinese people bridge the gap between the spiritual and material worlds, melding spiritual and earthly planes (Dawkins, 1993).

Through dance, Balinese people bridge the gap between the spiritual and material worlds, melding spiritual and earthly planes.

One of the most eminent dance rituals in Bali is the dance of the Rangda and Barong which symbolizes the eternal struggle between the forces of good and evil. Rangda is the queen of the witches, known for her hideous features: bulging eyes, long unkempt hair, and also adorning herself with human skulls. Drowning in terror anyone that lays their gaze upon her. Rangda’s counterpart, the Barong, is the king of the spirits. Often depicted as a lofty and majestic creature in lion-like form, symbolizing protection and good fortune (Belo, 1949, s. 18).

Traditionally the Rangda and Barong dances should be performed in the late hours of the night. Below the rays of the afternoon sun, humans carry their shadows like anchors, forever tethered to them, barricading them from the rest of nature. But when the sky falls and moonlight begins to rustle between the ash-gray tree branches, the ridges between the visible and invisible worlds dissolve into each other. In the experience of Hildred Geertz, at night the ceremony is seen “in all its terrifying mystery” (Geertz, 1976, 725:726). In the darkness everything becomes amplified. With the uncertainty of what hides in the dark, Rangda and Barong leap and vault at each other in sequences of movements. As the battle unfolds, Barong outmaneuvers Rangda and takes the upper hand.

While ultimately on every occasion the Barong defeats his counterpart in war, the Queen of darkness never meets a fate of death, the two forces eternally locked in confrontation (Belo, 1949, s. 19).

In anthropological documentaries about this dancing one can observe dancers that dress in intricate costumes of gentle silks and cotton threads which are layered in hues of scarlet reds, earthly browns, and radiant golds. Those among them representing Rangda wear a wooden mask with bulging bloodshot eyes, thorn-sharp teeth, and high arching eyebrows grooved into the face of the mask. The mask of the Barong has large expressive eyes, a short nose like a shell, and the widest grin spreading from each corner of his face. Both masks glimmer like pearls at the strike of light (Bateson and Mead, 1951; Dawkins, 1993; Haley, 1995; Yans-McLaughlin and Seidman, 1996).

The accompanying music is the thread that holds the tapestry together; which is played by a traditional Balinese gamelan ensemble, using a myriad of metallophones, gongs, and drums, pulsing life into the story (Haley, 1995, 18:58).

In the eyes of Milton H. Erickson, dance in Bali flows effortlessly. Nothing is forced or exerted

The Cultural Body

Dancers perform with the precision of a sculptor, delicately chiseling detailed groves into marble stones. From the twist of a wrist above the head to the widening of the eyes under the brows, all movement is done with unwavering confidence and control of the body. In the eyes of Milton H. Erickson, dance in Bali flows effortlessly. Nothing is forced or exerted (Haley, 1995, 30:27). While watching them, one could imagine that the performer strives for harmony in every gist and inflection of the arms, hands, and fingers. The feet bear the weight of the body, and with every step, the soles pivot and slide gracefully across the earth (Bateson and Mead, 1951; Dawkins, 1993; Haley, 1995; Yans-McLaughlin and Seidman, 1996).

However, while experienced dancers never go stiff or put forward an awkward step, these skills are not innate. Young students of these arts must engage in years of practice and observation; every movement becomes carefully learned. With diligence children are taught every choreography (Bourdieu, 1977, s. 87-88). In the same way novice students of capoeira learn to internalize techniques through imitation of their teachers (Downey, 2008), the children in Bali learn to dance through observation. As expressed by Margaret Mead during her fieldwork in Bali, “The teacher molds the student’s body” (Yans-McLaughlin and Seidman, 1996, 41:17). Historically, dance and music were not written down, but rather transmitted through physical expression and memorization. This emphasizes the critical need to learn every note and dance movement with precision (Dawkins, 1993, 10:16).

What does it feel like to perceive a spirit taking over your anatomy and mediate itself through you?

The Mystery of Trance

A common experience for dancers is going into trance, entering altered states of consciousness (Belo, 1960). In the cultural context amidst Balinese temples, what exactly does it mean to be under trance during dance? What does it feel like to perceive a spirit taking over your anatomy and mediate itself through you? While it is possible to talk in great detail with dancers who have been in such states of trance, it is futile trying to convey the full richness of these experiences. Barbara Myerhoffs articulates this sentiment flawlessly. How using words can only hint at the experience of mystery, but will never reveal its full depth. During her ethnographic research among elderly Jewish communities in Los Angeles, California, she came to notice how her interlocutors repeatedly struggled trying to articulate what they felt into words.

No matter how eloquently her interlocutors expressed themselves, there will always be a canyon-sized gap between their words and their profound lived experiences (Myerhoff, 1978).

Conclusion

Balinese dance encompasses religious practices, artistic expression, and education. The people of Bali have been dancing for over a millennium across generations. For them dance is a medium through which to attune to the invisible world (niskala). Through performance they knit together the physical and metaphysical. The Rangda and Barong dance represents the never-ending struggle between good and evil. The dance itself requires paper-sharp precision and control. Students begin practicing from a young age. While performing, dancers often experience trancing and connect with the spiritual world.

The Balinese, in their understanding of the body, teach us a valuable lesson. They do not commit the Cartesian fallacy of separating the body and soul. Taking a non-western approach, the mind, body, and the spiritual world are ever bound to each other.