Pariangan is a neat little village on the slopes of Mount Marapi in Indonesia. They say that the Minangkabau people of Indonesia first arrived here after their ship landed on this mountain when the world was submerged in water and only the mountain’s peak was visible (That’s some kind of cruise!). Well…sitting in that old village, with the evening just setting in, I could almost believe that familiar fable. This place was pretty different from the city lights of Chicago, where I live. You could feel that oddly tangible sense of history around here.
They were just setting up the puppet show. I had come all the way from Chicago to see this thing. It is called the Wayang Kulit, and it is an ancient Indonesian art form. “Wayang” literally means “shadow,” and you can understand why they call it that if you see how the puppet show works. I have seen puppet shows elsewhere, but most of them have actual puppets being moved around by a set of strings. The Wayang Kulit is different; here you don’t see the actual puppets. You just see their shadows.
They set up a backlit screen. The screen looks like it is made with Japanese rice paper; it has that peculiar texture. The light behind the screen is a diffuse yellow. The puppets are placed between the light and the screen and what you get to see, sitting before the screen, are their shadows. There’s a very different visual impact of this “shadow dancing” from the usual sticks-n-strings puppet shows I had seen before. Things look more black and white, and visually, the show is very powerful.
I had read up on Wayang Kulit, of course. It is a peculiar Hindu art form of very ancient Indian origin. Wayang Kulit did not originate in Indonesia; it was brought here by Hindu colonialists in the 8th or 9th century CE. The first performance of Wayang Kulit is mentioned in a 930 CE inscription here which says “si Giligi mayawang” or “Sir Giligi played Wayang.” Apparently, this “Sir Giligi” (Sir?!) was a famous wandering entertainer around these parts. The theme of Sir Giligi’s ancient puppet show has not changed much even today. These themes are almost always stories from ancient Indian epics, and they talk about ancient war heroes, gods, demons, and not a few princesses, I guess. The actual religion-oriented themes didn’t interest me much, to be honest; but I was fascinated by the continuity of this art form, and the strong visual impact of the shadows dancing on the yellow screen.
The show starts off with peculiarly resonant drum music. If you have heard drummers beating to the tune of the Balinese dance music (YouTube?), you will see what I mean. This is a small drum with a wide base, and the sound has a strong high bass note to it. I can well imagine some of our Chicago rapper brothers getting hold of this thing; they would love it; I did.
Then they start off with the actual puppet dancing. There is a sort of “soul” music that goes on with it. It is done in a strangely nasal voice; I guess they are talking about the stories and themes of the show. I am not sure I understand what is going on, so I just stop worrying about it and focus on the shadows.
The shadow puppets are mesmerizing. The puppets themselves are very well designed, with lots of details in the peculiar headdresses and the style of clothing. They move with a fine grace. If you are watching this thing at night, in an unknown, strange village like this, you are bound to feel something different. What can I say – it’s a very out-of-the-world experience!
The Wayang Kulit continued for an hour into the night. There we were, about two hundred ethnic Indonesians, one extremely garrulous Padang cab driver and an American from Chicago, and we all sat engrossed in the strange beat of that drum, that weird, interesting music, and the shadow puppets dancing away on the screen.
The cabby was unnaturally quiet on the way back to the hotel, as if he could see the little shadow puppets dancing around the car in the darkness of the Indonesian night, and had to focus on the road so he didn’t hit one of them.