Titania Veda Jakarta GLOBE
An American expatriate and a puppetmaster are working to bring wayang to English speakers. (JG Photo)
Making The Wayang Speak — in English!
Kathryn Emerson typing simultaneous translations in English. (Photo: Titania Veda, JG)
It may still enjoy popularity throughout Java and Bali, and it was added to Unesco's representative list of intangible cultural heritage in November 2003, but traditional wayang kulit is often a difficult art form for foreign audiences to appreciate.
After all, the plots of many shadow puppet plays are based on ancient Hindu epics, they use local dialects, are often performed in people's living rooms and, depending on the story being related, performances can last from dusk to dawn.
But shadow puppet plays don't have to be inaccessible. American expatriate Kathryn "Kitsie" Emerson and master puppeteer Purbo Asmoro have formed a partnership to bring wayang to English speakers, offering shadow puppet shows in people's homes with a direct translation by Emerson. Emerson has lived in Indonesia for 18 years and has been married to well-respected Javanese wayang drummer Wakidi Dwidjomarto for six years, so has a firm grasp on both Indonesian and Western culture.
Emerson first came up with the idea after she and her husband held wayang performances in their home and she found herself whispering explanations to her friends who did not understand the language. "I thought instead of whispering, why don't I just type whatever I was whispering to them," she said.
Her first attempt at simultaneous translation of one of Purbo's performances came in 2006 at the Singapore Art Museum. "It was scary," she said. The two have since taken their joint performances to the United States, London and Paris.
"Maybe by working together like this, we're helping to make wayang more international, helping to give it a bigger name, an acknowledgment," Emerson said.
On a balmy night in May, a group of Jakarta-based expatriates had the opportunity to experience one of Emerson and Purbo's performances at the home of Naheed Islam, a Bangladeshi-American.
"In Java," Emerson told the crowd of 30 to introduce the performance, "wayang is entertainment, better than television."
She went on to explain the art form's origins, social value and oral traditions.
From the days the sultanates reigned, wayang kulit performances in Javanese homes have been part of Indonesian tradition. To the ebb and flow of a gamelan orchestra accompaniment, the dhalang (puppet master) manipulates his intricately carved leather puppets of epic characters, making their shadows frolic and fight on the screen as he tells the story, altering his tone for each character.
The explanations of the stories told were appreciated by audience members such as Tricia Hoban, from Washington, DC, who has a fondness for the puppets. Having previously lived in India, Hoban said she found the stories to be a continuation of the Mahabarata and Ramayana legends. "I want to find out the basics of wayang, how it works and what it looks like," she said.
Following the lecture and a light dinner, the living room lights dimmed and the gamelan musicians, including Emerson's husband, sat before their instruments wearing white tunics over brown batik sarongs. A cloth screen separated the living room, where Emerson, the gamelan ensemble and Purbo, with his backlit puppet characters sat, from the garden outside.
The action began, the shadows of the puppets clear to the watchers in the garden as Purbo manipulated them to the accompaniment of his voice, sound effects and the gamelan orchestra. Those wishing to read Emerson's simultaneous translation remained inside, where she typed on her laptop and the words were projected onto a living room wall. Some walked between the two areas, wine glasses in hand, viewing the show from both perspectives.
The story of the evening was of Dewa Ruci, taken from the Hindu epic Mahabharata. It is a coming-of-age tale woven around the second of the Pandava brothers, Bhima, who has decided he is in dire need of spiritual development.
In preparation for the performance, Emerson listened to the five recordings she has of the Dewa Ruci narrative. "I studied them all really hard and make sure I understood the plot. But still, [Purbo] doesn't do anything the same ever," she said. "All is mostly improvised, not memorized."
It is obvious that mastering Javanese was only one of many skills Emerson had to learn to become a proficient translator. Each dhalang has his own style and method of interpretation, so she spent three years in Solo consciously looking for one she could work with.
"I wanted to work with a dhalang I could really study," she said. "If I flitted from one dhalang to another, I wouldn't understand deeply what their interpretation was or their choice in philosophy."
When she met Purbo in July 2004, Emerson knew she had found her man. The dhalang is a sixth-generation puppeteer and also a professor of pedhalangan (puppetry) at the Institute of Indonesian Arts (ISI Surakarta). "His performance is meaningful, his movements beautiful and his comments are different," Emerson said.
Purbo himself said that a dhalang's duty is to ensure everyone in the audience is entertained and can follow the plot and comments of the wayang.
"If you crack a joke or wax philosophic, it has to be conducted in a way that is understood by both the literature professor and the meatball seller who may be in the audience," he said. The necessity of a translator such as Emerson to allow speakers of other languages in on those jokes was obvious when Purbo had an ogre tell Bhima he would make a tasty snack.
The comment drew laughter from the gamelan players but the English-speaking audience had a slightly delayed reaction as they waited for Emerson's translation to be displayed.
Not all found it humorous. Lisa Kramer from Oregon thought that in itself was an interesting cultural contrast. "I didn't find it funny, but the musicians were laughing," she said. "It's interesting to see the cultural differences. It raises questions. Why was that funny to someone [else] and not to me? Through this, you open yourself up to learn more."
Kramer was impressed by Emerson's ability to move between the cultures, something Emerson said was not easy.
"Figuring out how to translate things like the jokes are a challenge," she said. "Culturally, jokes can not be funny. At times it is lost in translation. Sometimes it's a play on language. And then sometimes there's so much context and background, so often I just don't translate."
Another difficult part of wayang performances for Western audiences can be "the incredibly serious moments and then the clowns come in," she said. "I think the foreign audiences are shocked by that. Or they all of a sudden think there is something cheaper about what they're seeing. All of a sudden, they doubt. They say wayang is high-brow art and like vaudeville art at the same time. That is the Javanese ethic. If something gets really serious, they've got to bring the clowns out."
Following the performance, which lasted an hour, audience members expressed their appreciation at gaining new insight into the art form.
"Coming from a different cultural perspective, to have it laid out and have a translation makes a huge difference," said John Packer, a native of San Francisco.
Kramer agreed. "It is fantastic with the translation," she said, "because I never understood it before. I can understand a little bit of Bahasa Indonesia, but not when it is in Javanese. It's tremendous to understand what is being said.
"And it's an intimate setting to be in someone's home. It makes it all the more personal and accessible. With the smaller setting and translation, it's more meaningful for someone who doesn't understand."
For more information or to book a wayang performance at your house, email ekathryn@hotmail.com or log on to www.purboasmoro.com
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