Ubud-based photographer Mario Andi Supria, who spends most of his days taking hundreds of pictures of lavish wedding ceremonies, has a peculiar way of winding down: taking hundreds more pictures.

The difference between his commercial and relaxation sessions lies in the gear he carries and the themes he pursues.

For the former, he always brings two mammoth DSLRs, plus a back-up camera body and as many remote-triggered flashes, diffusers, tripods and spare batteries as his entourage of assistants can carry. For the latter, he only brings his analogue cameras — the revered Leica M6 rangefinder and a Zenza Bronica 645 medium-format, a limited supply of film rolls and no assistants.

“After nearly two decades of shooting weddings, the act of capturing the moment, for me, has somehow diminished into a mechanical feat. Using state-of-the-art digital photographic tools has exacerbated that state, inciting a suspicion and self-doubt that all those magnificent shots were created by the in-camera algorithms instead of by my own skills and sensitivity,” he said of his fondness for the analogue bodies and film rolls.

“They [the analogue tools] keep me on the edge, helping me to relax, as well as challenging me to be a better photographer.”

Analogue bodies and film rolls force him to be more deliberate and patient, to view an event not as a series of fragmented scenes but as a continuum of experience.

“If you only have one single roll of film at your disposal, then the act of pressing the shutter button is surely more thoughtful than when you carry a digital camera with gigabytes on the memory card.”

During those relaxation sessions, the analogue bodies and film rolls take him to places far from the opulent beachside resorts of Nusa Dua or exotic villas in the pristine hills of Payangan, the preferred wedding venues of his wealthy clients.

Once again he finds himself on rural roads leading to villages in east Bali, chasing the temple festivals and traditional performances that made him fall in love with photography in the first place.

Early this year, he paid a visit to some sites in Karangasem — Lempuyang Madya temple on the slope of Mount Lempuyang, Tegallinggah village, Ngis village and Kertawarah hamlet — to capture their unique rejang dances. He travelled light, carrying only the Leica M6 with one single lens, the hallowed Noctilux-M 50mm f/0.95, and several rolls of Kodak T-Max 400 and Rollei RPX 400.

The result of his journey is a breathtaking visual record that shows rejang at its best.

The ceremonial dance, usually performed by young girls, is the Balinese aesthetic interpretation of the heavenly nymphs. Donning beautiful headgear made of fresh coconut leaves, colorful flowers and leaves, these girls greet the deities as they descend from heaven to the ritual site. The distinct headgear of the Karangasem rejang features prominently in Andi Supria’s photographs.

Rejang is a slow-paced piece characterized by unassuming choreography. It is one of the island’s simplest dances. Interestingly, its devotional nature, simple gestures and the aura of innocence projected by its adolescent dancers have also made it one of Bali’s most touching dances.

“Rejang has that meditative quality that perfectly matches the contemplative process demanded by the analogue bodies and rolls of film.”

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