The ‘dalang’

Precious art form: Dalang student from Denpasar’s Institute of Fine Arts, Gusti Ngurah Nyoman Wagista (center), discusses his upcoming community performance in the village of Tengkulak.In a world of palm pilots and mobile phones, few of us bother to commit to memory even our own phone numbers, so imagine memorizing 1.8 million words as part of your job description.

For an Indonesian dalang — or puppet master — learning the Mahabharata and Ramayana epics by heart is just the beginning; these epic poems that sing down the centuries of Hanuman the white monkey or the trials and tribulations of the Pandawa brothers are also narrated in Bali’s ancient Kawi language, explains Denpasar’s Institute of Fine Arts (ISI) student, 25-year-old Gusti Ngurah Nyoman Wagista.

“We study Sanskrit, Java Kuno or Bali Kawi, as part our training to become dalang. We perform the role of four characters, giving the discussion between kings in Bali Kawi and then translating this for audiences into Balinese through the comedic characters of Malen and Merdah,” says Gusti who later this month takes his final exams in the art of dalang, and was recently preparing for a practice performance in his home village of Tengkulak near Ubud.

In this performance Gusti plans to tell the historic tale of his village’s links with the Majapahit Empire that ruled the Indonesian archipelago from the 13th century until its collapse over the 14th and 15th centuries.

“Back in the 13th century the last vice president of the Bali Aga, Kipasung Gregis lived here in Tengkulak. He was taken prisoner during the Majapahit wars and then released by Queen Tri Bhuana Tungga Dewi of the Majapahit on condition he journeyed to Sumbawa to conquer that island for the Empire,” explains Gusti of how wayang not
only tells tales of the Ramayana and Mahabharata, but also reminds communities of their rich and vibrant history.

As Gusti chatted about the rigorous demands of his art form and his goal to share histories with the community, family members were carving and hammering into shape his jackfruit puppet box that will last for many decades to come. Nearby is his father’s puppet box and also his grandfathers box with their distinctive curved ends.

The road to narrating the epic poems of India begins with the voice, Gusti explains.

“We first learn the vocal techniques. There are four different tones such as sweet tones, deep voice, very high tones and loud voice. To learn this we do vocal exercises at the beach. We practice to make sure our voices can be heard above the waves and how to throw our voices,” says Gusti of the dalang’s most valuable asset, his vocal chords.

“We also practice yelling to strengthen the vocal chords. Dalang can perform for more than two hours so the voice needs to be trained and strong,” says Gusti, who at first appears shy, almost to the point of indifference when speaking about his art form.

That apparent indifference disappears the moment he takes wayang puppets in hand. Gusti’s eyes light up, his hands take on a life of their own and then he begins to speak.

His voice though he is still young, resonates, almost dances through the air; the puppets argue and debate in Kawi and a vitality springs from these dolls carved from buffalo hide.

“Yes they have their own life — absolutely. Every wayang has its own personality and voice,” says Gusti.

As he practices, tripping over a missed word here and there, his father Mangku Gusti Made Lunga, supplies the missing thread. Where Gusti is studying to become a dalang at university, Mangku learned at his father’s and grandfather’s knee. The family has for centuries been dalang, says Mangku.

Surrounded by history: Puppet master Mangku Gusti Made Lunga sits among shadow puppets handed down over the centuries.“I learned from my father when I was still at primary school. I learned because I liked the puppets and I wanted to follow in the footsteps handed down for hundreds of years in my family,” says Mangku who performs using wayang puppets that have also been handed down, father to son, over decades.

“Some of these are hundreds of years old. They were handed down from our ancestors,” says Mangku whose favorite story is the Mahabharata tale of the Pandawa brothers.

At 55 years of age Mangku says he can recite most of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. “Before a performance I read a bit and that brings it all back,” says Mangku pointing out that wayang performances are still as important today as they were in his ancestor’s time.

“Marriages always have the story of Rama and Sinta. Different ceremonies need different stories to be told, some are about good versus evil, some are funny and satirical, but all are important to us,” says Mangku, highlighting that despite having television and computers — all the trappings of modern society — the magic carved out of buffalo hide, shadows and ancient tales still thrives in every village.

- Photos By J.B. Djwan