What is the role of dance in ceremony? What are the different categories of Balinese dance? The most foundational stances? Having an understanding of some of these fundamental questions is a great first step to appreciating what is an unimaginably rich and varied art form.
Ubiquitous across the island, proudly performed on stage for the tourist gaze or as a sacred duty in the inner sanctum of a temple, the magic of Balinese dance goes beyond just its visual spectacle. It is a medium of communication with the gods and ancestors, a preserved pastime that ties generations, and is an art form that keeps the island’s identity thriving.
The Bodily Orchestra
Maestro Ni Ketut Arini shows the importance of facial expression (tangkep) in dance. Photos by Edward Speirs.
The brilliance of the Balinese dancer is in their ability to control so many components simultaneously, with fundamental stances, positions, movements and expressions that must be combined perfectly.
All beginning dancers must master these fundamentals. The first is the agem, the static standing posture, a controlled pose from top-to-bottom: lifted toes, open stance with bent knees, an exaggerated curve of the torso and high, bent elbows. There are two agem, left and right, and these are different again for men and women. The next component is the tandang, the movements between poses, which can be fluid and smooth like that seen during a legong, or angsel, short, fast and jerky like in the baris. Finally, there is the tangkep, the facial expression, an often underestimated component of a dance, but these give life and personality to the role or character a dancer assumes – especially the sledet, iconic eye movements.
There are of course more detailed elements to learn: the many hand shapes and finger movements, a wide variety of elbow and positions, and body, neck and head movements.
With the basics under wraps, the dancer must then put all these ingredients together – to make sure their stance is right, with the appropriate finger movements, and the correct facial expression and eye movement to match. Their body is the orchestra, their mind the conductor. It is an incredible test of both mental and physical discipline; though for the very best dancers, these will flow naturally and effortlessly.
Some advice I share with anyone lost in the context during a dance performance: pay attention to the individual elements – feet, posture, hands, eyes – and you’ll be able to appreciate the skill and effort of the dancer.
A Performance for Every Occassion
In the cornucopia of choreographies, the first differentiating factor of Balinese dance is how sacred it is.
There are three overarching categories of dance: Balih-balihan dances, performed for art and entertainment, these often have a more social rather than religious role, even when performed at temple. Then there are the bebali ceremonial dances, serving as an intermediary, bridging the sacred and the profane. Then there are the sacred wali dances, where the performances themselves are acts of service or offerings to the gods and ancestors.
This spectrum of sacredness mirrors the three separate zones that make up a Balinese temple compound, and indeed reflects where each of these types of dances are best suited. The innermost courtyard (jeroan) is where the wali dances are performed; the bebali are commonly performed in the middle courtyard (jaba tengah); whilst the balih-balihan dances are found in the jaba, or outermost courtyard, as well being performed at secular venues.
Dancing for the Gods
Photo 1: Sangyang Jaran in Desa Griana Kauh, Karangasem.
Photo 2: Sangyang Dedari in Desa Griana Kauh, Karangasem
Photos by Edward Speirs.
A wide variety of wali and bebali dances will take place only at big ceremonies. In a league of their own are the sanghyang dances, often referred to as ‘trance dances’, which are highly ritualistic.
“In the sanghyang dance, the male Cak choir performs worship songs and prayers, invoking the descent of ancestral spirits and divinities, known as bhatara-bhatari. This spiritual invocation is signified by the kerawuhan, or possession, of the dancers, leading them into an unconscious dance,” writes Professor I Made Bandem, one of Bali’s most respected authorities on traditional performing arts, both in practice and in academia.
The sanghyang dedari (dance of the nymphs) and sanghyang jaran (horse dance) are the most well-known of the trance dances, performed in Bali’s more rural pockets and often as ceremonies in their own right, used as means of ‘exorcising’, purging or warding off negative influences in an area.
The more regular wali dances often accompany temple festivals (odalan). These include: the pendet, a welcoming dance performed by the women of the community; the rejang, an offertory dance performed by pre-adolescent girls; and the baris gede, or ‘soldiers dance’, a strong, sometimes spear-wielding, choreography performed by men.
What is special about these wali dances is that they may differ from region-to-region, with costumes and headdresses given a local flair. As such, no two rejang dances are exactly the same. These big group dances are colourful, communal performances, made all the more spectacular through the ritual atmosphere of an on-going temple ceremony.
Photo 1: A pendet performance unfolds during a Mecaru ceremony at Mason Elephant Park, Taro
Photo 2: Rejang dancers display their beautiful headdresses after performing in Ubud.
Photos by Edward Speirs
As for the bebali ceremonial dances, Fred B. Eiseman, Jr. (Bali, Sekala and Niskala) writes: “Although the entertainment is intended for the gods and ancestral spirits who are being honoured at the ceremony, the events are equally entertaining to the Balinese.”
Seen at ceremonies like tooth filings to weddings, the bebali dances are characterised as being story-driven, straddling the line between dance and theatre, regaling historical tales and folk stories. Popular examples include the Calonarang, a mystical dance-drama depicting the story of Rangda, the demon witch; within which the iconic Barong lion will feature too, together symbolising the play of good vs evil, light vs dark. Then there are the topeng masked dances, of which there are many. Of utmost ritual importance is the topeng sidakarya, a dance originating in the 16th century, following the story of an old priest (Brahmana Keling) who must ‘complete (sida) the task (karya)’, i.e. a ceremony. It is one part of the topeng pajegan routine, a demanding performance by a single male dancer who must assume the role (mannerisms, script, voices, and stances) of a prince, princess, king, prime minister, servant, old man and clown.
Then there is the gambuh, the master of all dances, a theatrical performance that strings together the ‘Panji Tales’ from the ancient Balinese epic, Malat. It is hours long as a complete story and is considered to be the original source for many dances.
From Sacred to the Stage
How is it that a bebali ceremonial dance can be performed in a secular setting, brought to an amphitheatre for paying visitors, for example? Are these performances not sacred?
Balinese dance is highly contextual. Often, especially in the case of the masked or puppet dances, the performances are not spiritually charged. For example, the masks used have not undergone the pasupati sacralising ceremony, and are thus mere props in a performance. Or perhaps the dance has been modified from its original, sacred form:
“The legong dance, a staple for tourists, is a common jaba [outer courtyard] performance. When given at an odalan or other ceremony, legong is much longer and more complete than the brief excerpt that tourists see.” Explains Fred B. Eiseman Jr.
In truth, a real Balinese dance in its proper ceremonial context is likely not for everyone. They can be hours long, performed in Balinese or even ancient Javanese (Kawi), lacking an obvious story or visual structure that we are used to. The sanghyang dedari, for example, can be an entire evening of watching as the young girls sway in a trance, with the village women chanting repeatedly in the background. Famously, the full Calonarang performance can also be hours long, but participants are advised not to leave until it comes to completion lest they experience and accident on the way home.
As such, for everyday audiences, a modified version of a classical dance may be introduced. The most famous ‘reimagining’ is without a doubt the kecak, now one of the most recognised dances from Bali, with thanks to its immortalising, modern display upon the cliffs of Uluwatu.
Professor I Made Bandem explains that the kecak was a new creation, inspired by the male ‘cak’ chanting found in the sanghyang dance. “During his initial visit to Ubud in 1925, the renowned artist and musician Walter Spies was captivated by a Sanghyang Dedari performance at Ubud Palace,” writes Bandem. “The adaptation of Cak to include the Ramayana narrative, a collaborative effort involving I Wayan Limbak, Katharine Mershon, and Walter Spies, is thought to have emerged between 1934-1935.”
Such evolution is not uncommon in Balinese dance, and is in fact encouraged, as Professor Bandem writes: “These performances are crucial in keeping the art form alive and vibrant, ensuring that the essence of cak, with its deep cultural roots and artistic significance, continues to be appreciated and revived for future generations.”
Are You Not Entertained?
The balih-balihan secular performances are by no means less captivating or culturally relevant. They too are rooted in history, once being the highlight entertainment of royal courts.
The classical arja is the perfect example: considered Bali’s ‘opera’, it brings dance, music, song and monologue into one epic performance, even weaving in ancient kidung singing, once again regaling old Panji tales. Or there is the kebyar terompong, which requires the performer to both dance and play the gamelan (specifically the terompong) simultaneously – a magnificent feat of skill and discipline. Indeed, this traditional entertainment produces some true maestros, able to deliver sensational performances whether in the temple or on the commercial stage.
Photo by Edward Speirs.
A dancer who has the skill to truly captivate an audience is described to have taksu. Taksu is said to be the spiritual force: it flows through someone to deliver their talent to elevated levels, be it an artist, a carver or a musician. A dancer’s taksu can be felt by the audience: an aura, a hypnotising gaze, the confidence in the stance, the fluidity of their timing and movement. Yes, they must be masters of their craft, but they must also learn to surrender themselves to the moment –– or in some cases to a spirit –– and let the dance take over their bodies. These are the truly magical performances.
Balih-balihan dances can be highly social functions. They are used for folk storytelling, like the tari katak (frog dance), from a Balinese fairy tale; or to enlighten festivities, like the controversial joged bumbung, a somewhat salacious and provocative genre, with women dancers inviting men on stage to dance with them.
But this secular category of dance provides space for innovation and creativity, allowing Balinese dance to find relevance in modern times. As long as they are rooted in the foundational dance elements, with appropriate musical accompaniment, new stories can be told, new choreographies created, elaborate costumes imagined. They bring new appeal for the next generation of dancers, and help audiences stay engaged.
Just Keep Dancing
A constant concern in Bali is whether cultural heritage will be passed down through the generations, and that includes classical Balinese dance. Since dance is an essential part of worship, be it the wali sacred dances or the bebali ceremonial dances, they will no doubt remain foundational parts of life on the island.
Important social structures are in place to ensure this too, with banjar village communities hosting their seka teruna teruni (youth members) for compulsory dance or gamelan practice. For those looking to take their skills further, there are countless sanggar tari — sanggar being a term for an art group, tari meaning dance — across the island.
Income from commercial dancing is certainly an incentive for some, be it in hotels and resorts, or part of the banjar’s own tourist performances. One maestro, Ibu Ni Ketut Arini, told NOW! Bali: “To keep young people motivated, they need places to perform. My students are always more excited to learn when they are given opportunities to go on stage.”
Then there is the ever-important Bali Arts Festival (Pesta Kesenian Bali), held every June to July, this is the olympics of Bali’s performing arts, where different banjar and sanggar will come to perform and even compete. There is overwhelming local interest and support. It has been crucial in keeping the art form thriving.
For those looking to get a good dose of dance, the Bali Arts Festival is definitely a great place to start. But outside of that, finding a dance to watch depends on what you are looking for: Do you want to travel afar to see a ritual dance in their ceremonial context, long and drawn out, or prefer the shortened but easy-to-enjoy performances? Do you want to see the maestros of classical choreography, or the vibrant modern creations?
A little bit of each serves to give an appreciation for this rich art form, as broad as it is deep. Hopefully with this context you can better appreciate the dances you’ll see around the island.
Note: It should go without saying… for any ceremonial events please respect the cultural environment. Dress appropriately with Balinese sarong, sash, and a well-covered top; do not enter any areas restricted only for worship; do not disturb people praying or worshipping; do not be intrusive when taking photos; pay for entrance or donate something to the local temple.
