Beautiful of Bali

High on the slopes of Bali's Mount Agung sits Besakih Temple, widely referred to as the "Mother Temple" of Hinduism in Bali. Besakih is the largest temple of the island's 11,000 or so Hindu temples; its 35 shrines and halls draw devotees from all over Bali in massive numbers each year. The world is lucky to have Besakih. In 1963 Mount Agung, a volcano, erupted and destroyed several nearby villages. Besakih was untouched.
The temple is generally agreed to date back to prehistoric times in Bali. It is named for Naga Besukian -- the dragon-god thought by pre-Hindu Balinese to inhabit this, the highest mountain in Bali. But at the beginning of the 11th Century Besakih became the state temple at a time when Bali was no mean kingdom. It has remained the state temple in some form or another ever since and is state supported today.
Like most Balinese temples, Besakih is not a closed building but a mostly open-air affair. It is made up of courtyards with altars and shrines devoted to a number of gods. And those gods have better things to do than just hang around a temple; the Balinese believe that the gods visit a temple on particular dates -- and on those dates the Balinese hold festivals to honor (or placate) the gods. Of all the temples on Bali six are "supremely holy:" Pura Besakih, Pura Lempuyang Luhur, Pura Gua Lawah, Pura Batukaru, Pura Pusering Jagat, and Pura Uluwatu. Of these, Besakih stands higher than the others -- not because it sits some 3000 or so feet above the ocean on the mountain's side, but because it is more sacred to the Balinese. It is said to be the only classless, casteless temple on the island where any Balinese Hindu can come to worship. Bali's Hinduism is unique. Many scholars believe it gives us a view of Hindu beliefs much as they existed 1500 to 2000 years ago.
Hinduism was once the dominant religion in much of Southeast Asia and empires in the region where ruled by god-kings -- empires like Funan, Sri Vijaya, Angkor, and Bali. The Hinduism of Bali is less fragmented than that of modern India. Balinese are generally said to worship one god, Brahman, who manifests himself in various forms or personalities. Lee Arnold, in his article on The Temples of Bali, quotes an anonymous Balinese who explains their views: "I am just one person; someday I might be a farmer, another a driver, yet another a cook, but I am still only one person." In the same way the Hindu "gods" Siva and Vishnu (Siwa and Visnu in Balinese) are really just different manifestations of the one god, Brahman, in Balinese theology. While this may be true, temples generally end up serving as places where one of Brahman's manifestations is worshipped; and Besakih is dedicated largely to Siva worship.

The story of the Ramayana greatly inspires the Balinese. Many of their dances are based on this great story which is often depicted in a ballet.The Balinese version differs from the Indian Version. It is told that Rama, as the first son in a family, was the heir to the Ayodya kingdom but the king's second wife, through her treachery forced the king to crown her own son as the King of Ayodya and asked him to send Rama and his wife into exile.Because he respected his father, Rama went with his wife called Sita and his beloved younger brother, Laksmana into a forest called Dandaka. Usually the first act of the ballet depicts Rama and entourage in the heart of the Dandaka forest.Rahwana, the evil King of Alengka, enchanted by the beauty of Sita, wanted to have her as his concubine. He sent one of his knights, Marica, to temp Sita by transforming himself into a golden deer. Sita, captivated by her curiosity, asked her husband to catch the golden deer.The next act explains how Rama succeeds in hunting the golden deer but as his arrow struck the golden deer it transformed back into Marica. Meanwhile Sita heard a distant cry for help. Laksmana, who had been asked by his brother to look after his sister-in-law, tried to explain to her that the cry sounds very suspicious. But nevertheless, Sita was convinced that someone was in need of help. So she sent Laksmana to look for this person and to help whoever it is. In his desperate attempt, Laksmana asked Sita, no matter what would happen, to stay inside the guarding circle that he created.Rahwana, knowing that Sita was protected by the circle transforms himself into an old priest. He approaches Sita and asks her for a drink. Sita, without hesitation, extends her hands beyond the circle to hand him the water. Rahwana takes the advantage, snatches her hand and takes her to his palace in Alengka.On the way, Rahwana encounters a mighty eagle Jatayu. By every means possible, Jatayu tries to rescue Sita from the evil king but fails and is killed by Rahwana.Rama and Laksmana find the dying Jatayu who tells them the whole story of what had happened to Sita.In his attempt to release his wife, Rama seeks the help from Hanoman and his monkey soldiers. Hanoman finds Sita in the palace's garden. She had been asked by Rahwana to marry him but she would rather die. Hanoman convinces Sita that he is Rama's messenger and talks of a plan.Rahwana catches Hanoman and burns his tail but in so doing, set fire to the palace's' gardens. The pyrotechnics can be very impressive.In the last act, Rama and his troops are depicted attacking Rakhwana's palace. Finally Rama manages to kill Rahwana and therefore takes his wife back to his country.The abridged version ends here but if you see paintings in Kamasan style based on the Ramayana story, you would notice that in the last of serialised paintings, Sita had to prove she was still pure, and had not been tainted by Rahwana, by plunging herself into a fire. Because of her faith in her husband, God saved her from the fire and she lived happily ever after with Rama.The Indian version reveals a very different ending with Sita saved by Mother Earth, never returning to her husband.

LEAD: When the Dancers and Musicians of Bali first delighted Americans in 1952, both dancers and audiences seemed a great deal more innocent. The company by the same name that opened Tuesday night at the City Center is by no means the same troupe -nor are the times in which we live.
When the Dancers and Musicians of Bali first delighted Americans in 1952, both dancers and audiences seemed a great deal more innocent. The company by the same name that opened Tuesday night at the City Center is by no means the same troupe -nor are the times in which we live.
The Balinese village that gave birth to the program's secular and religious dances is now part of a global village. The excellent gamelan musicians who sit onstage with a glittering array of bronze xylophone-like instruments, gongs and flutes are more familiar than in the past. So much so that anyone seeking the inspiration behind the modular percussive music of American experimental composers like Steve Reich will have no trouble recognizing the source.
Nonetheless, the real thing is, so to speak, the real thing. There is no substitute for experiencing the gamelan ensemble's texture of melody and rhythm. Nor can the Balinese dancers be separated from the vital premise of their art: interaction with the gamelan orchestra.
The present company, however, includes none of the child performers or great masters whose purity once guaranteed spellbinding success. Instead, we see a group of professionals who occasionally radiate a tinge of spirituality, as in the Legong Keraton female duet, but who chiefly outline the form of a dance rather than fill it with feeling. For all their nonrealistic essence, Bali's dances are subtle expressions of mood and movement.
The current group, directed by Anuk Agung Gede Oka Kaleran, offers a no-nonsense survey, from pure-dance solos with hidden symbolic content to simulations of trance dances and excerpts from storytelling morality plays. The distinction between the masculine and feminine styles is always made clear. The women's characteristic stance is angular, one hip jutting out, one arm out with curved fingers splayed while the torso leans toward the other arm, which is bent. The men move in a turned-out plie, shifting their weight, darting quickly to the side. The eruption of small rhythmic steps contrasts with the outward lyricism.
The musicians are better than the dancers, who are straightforward and whose virtuosic range is not as wide as it could be, as seen in the sitting dance known as the Kebyar, or in the invocation, performed in a routine manner by six women.
The production, which was supervised by Pierre Lucas with lighting by Chenault Spence and which runs through Sunday, got off to a black-tie gala start: the Indonesian ambassador and consul general, as well as two former United States ambassadors to Indonesia, stood up for a bow.
The performers, said to come from the villiage of Peliatan, are seen in front of simulated temple decor, surrounded by foliage. The gamelan orchestra sits on both sides while the dancer, as they might at home, enter from the temple steps.
To see the musicians raise their mallets in unison as they strike the gamelan instruments is to see and hear choreography at the same time. It is a stupendous sight. And to watch them follow the dancer who appeared as the quivering, glowering warrior in the Baris is to understand the close relationship between musicians and dancers.
In the Legong Keraton, two women in gold and purple costumes first perform a dance sitting on chairs, each twirling a fan. As a male singer begins a storytelling passage about a prince who tries to abduct a princess, the women plunge into a combative dance with impressive ferocity, swatting at one another with branches or placing a flexed foot mercilessly on a foe's body.
The Kecak, or trance dance, in which the men sit in a circle and chant as one imitates a monkey, was rendered confusing by the appearance of several women in their midst. By contrast, there was clarity in in the masked dance known as a Jauk, also in the Raja Pala where a princess lost her veil-like wings to a prince. Universal would be the word for the folk play excerpt, the Barong, in which the lion-like creature of the same name, embodying goodness, prevailed over evil.

Kecak dance is one of Bali’s unusuall dance, not like any other dance, Kecak performed without gamelan. The name is actually taken from the rythim of the chanting ‘monkey’ chorus; cha-chak-cha-cak …
The story behind Kecak is taken from the Hindu epic Ramayana, the dance tells the story of Prince Rama and his rescue of Princess Sita, who has been kidnapped by the evil King of Lanka.
A troupe of over 150 bare-chested men serve as the chorus circling the flame at the centre where the dancer are performing.In the 1930’s Wayan Limbak worked with German painter Walter Spies to create the Kecak from movements and themes in the traditional sanghyang exorcism ritual and the portions of the Ramayana. This collaboration between artists worked to create a dance that was both authentic to Balinese traditions but also palatable to Western tourist’s narrow tastes at the time. Wayan Limbak popularized the dance by traveling throughout the world with Balinese performance groups. These travels have helped to make the Kecak famous throughout the world.