Beyond the Apsara: Celebrating Dance in Cambodia 9781138662629, 9780415564458, 9780367817916

Table of contents :
Cover
Half Title
Series Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Foreword
Preface
Acknowledgements
Introduction
1. Royal Dances of Cambodia—Revival and Preservation
2. 'I am a Cambodian Classical Dancer': A Personal Story
3. Dance Education in Cambodia
4. Don't Even Think About Having Me
5. Rodin and the Apsara
6. Cambodians Dancing Beyond Borders: Three Contemporary Examples
7. Transmission of the Invisible: Form and Essence
8. Dancing Off Centre
9. Platforms for Change: Cambodia and Contemporary Dance from the Asia-Pacific Region
10. Beyond Revival and Preservation: Contemporary Dance in Cambodia
Artist Interviews and Biographies
Chhim Naline
Chumvan Sodhachivy (Belle)
Hang Borin
Hem Linda
Khieu Sovannarith
Koy Sina
Menh Kossony
Mok Sokhom
Pen Sok Huon
Penh Chumnit
Phon Sopheap
Proeung Chhieng
Pumtheara Chenda
Sam Sathya
Sam Savin
Sang Phorsda
Sao Rithy
Sek Sophea
Seng Kalivann
Sin Sakada
Soeur Thavarak
Soth Somaly
Vuth Chanmoly
Yim Savann
Yon Davy and Vuth Chanmoly
Glossary
Bibliography
Index

Citation preview

Beyond the Apsara

Celebrating Dance in Asia and the Pacific Series Editor: StephanieBurridge Celebrating Dance in Asia and the Pacific is a series that presents the views of eminent scholars, journalists and commentators alongside the voices of a new generation of choreographers working from tradition to create new forms of expression in contemporary dance. It documents and celebrates these artistic journeys that work within the framework of rich and complex cultural heritages. Future titles in this Series include India, Taiwan, Malaysia, Australia, New Zealand and the Pacific. The Series is published by Routledge and supported by the World Dance Alliance Asia Pacific.

Beyond

the

Apsara

Celebrating Dance in Cambodia

Editors

Stephanie Burridge Fred Frumberg

First published 2010 by Routledge 912–915

Tolstoy House, 15–17

Tolstoy Marg, New Delhi 110

001

Simultaneously published in the UK by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxfordshire OX14

4RN

First issued in paperback 2015 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2010 Stephanie Burridge and Fred Frumberg Typeset by Star Compugraphics Private Limited D–156, Second Floor Sector 7, Noida 201 301 All

rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including phot copying and recording, or in any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publishers.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record of this book is available from the British

ISBN 13: 978-1-138-66262-9 (pbk) ISBN 13: 978-0-415-56445-8 (hbk)

Library

Contents Foreword Prefacexii

by Peter

Sellars

ix xvii

Acknowledgements Introduction

Stephanie Buiridgexix 1.

Royal

Dances of Cambodia—Revival and Preservation Highness Princess Norodom Buppha Devi1

Her Royal 2.

'I am a Cambodian Classical Dancer': A Personal Story Hun Pen 14

3.

Dance Education in Cambodia Chey

4.

Don't Even Think About Toni

5.

Chankethya26 Having Me

Shapiro-Phim 40

Rodin and the

Apsara

Thierry Bayle52 6.

Cambodians Dancing Beyond Borders: Three Contemporary Examples Pornrat

7.

Damrhung 61

Transmission of the Invisible: Form and Essence 86 Peter Chin

Dancing Off Centre Sophiline Cheam Shapiro109

9.

Platforms for Change: Cambodia and Dance from the Asia-Pacific Region

Contemporary

Stephanie Burridge121 10.

Revival and Preservation: Dance in Cambodia

Beyond

Contemporary

Fred Frumberg 140

Artist Interviews and Biographies 155 Chhim Naìine Chumvan Sodhachivy (Belle), Hang Borin ,

,

Hem Linda Khieu Sovannarith Koy Sina Menh Kossony Mok Sokhom Pen Sok Huon Penh Chumnit Phon Sopheap Proeung Chhieng Pumtheara Chenda Sam Sathya Sam Savin Sang Phorsda , Sao Rithy Sek Sophea Seng Kalivann Sin Sakada Soeur Thavarak Soth Somaly Vuth Chanmoly Yim Savann Yon Davy and Vuth Chanmoly ,

,

,

,

,

,

Glossary Index 217

,

,

,

Bibliography 213

,

,

,

,

,

,

,

,

,

,

,

,

211

Against the backdrop of the chilling statistics that 80 per cent to 90 per cent of the artists in Cambodia perished during the Khmer Rouge reign of terror, we feared that the Khmer classical dance that has long been synonymous with Cambodian culture might be lost …

— HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi I have been devoted to the art and have exercised my talents to present what I, as a Cambodian, have to offer the world. Dance is part of my identity …

— Hun Pen, Khmer classical dancer Dance changed my life … there is a door, a magic door — it is the place for blessings. It is the back door of a large rehearsal hall at the Royal University of Fine Arts, Phnom Penh …

— Koy Sina, classical dancer and teacher Just as a character sings in the Broadway musical, A Chorus Line, about young girls’ fantasies upon seeing classical ballet in the United States, ‘Everything was beautiful at the ballet …’ a sense of awe can overwhelm children who witness the grace and mythic wonder of Khmer classical dance too …

— Toni Shapiro-Phim, dance ethnologist and anthropologist

The arts are a vital branch of culture and a country’s culture can be featured through the arts. The arts are the ‘soul engineer’ and the ‘heart doctor’.

— Sang Phorsda, classical dancer My heartfelt thoughts always go out to all the young Khmer dance artists whose spirits have moved me so much by their dedication to their traditional art while setting out on very personal journeys of expansive discovery …

— Peter Chin, artistic director of the interdisciplinary performing arts company Tribal Crackling Wind in Toronto

Foreword The task, the opportunity and the invitation for this generation to build a new Cambodia, a Cambodia of dreams and aspirations that is rooted in a past of grandeur and devastation — the task is superhuman. And, hour by hour, day by day, child by child, completely, utterly human. The gift of Cambodian classical dance to the world is to bring us into the abiding presence of the superhuman — humans who across years of devotion, care, practice, and love have achieved a self-mastery, a poise and a grace that seems impossibly beautiful, a gesture of forgiveness and release that is sustained by resilience and deep strength, and a profound sense of flow that exemplifies the ability to move and be in complete harmony with the surrounding environment. The dance has for centuries hovered as an indestructible of ‘Cambodian-ness’, passed from generation to generation. The smiling, breathing stone apsaras clustered at the feet of the columns in Angkor Wat are there to remind us of the revivifying powers of pleasure and the spiritual bliss of discipline and The breezes wafting through their garments suggest the invisible energies of their gentle movements which continue to subtly shift across the centuries as the sun moves across the sky and dynasties rise and crumble. These benign spirits, avatars of joy and perpetually ripening beauty, are our guides on the new paths opening in our generation, paths that lead forward from genocide, from deep trauma, from cruelty, from collapse, in a world still longing for basic justice. The dance is here to exemplify growth and transformation, steady, gradual achievement, living daily with difficulty, challenging every aspect of who we are and what we hope to become. It is the reminder of the divine which breathes through and is embodied in the human, and the animal reflexes which can be cultivated and elevated to a state of fearless grace.

emblem

freedom.

To witness the presence of ancestors inhabiting new young bodies, and to sense the possibilities yet unborn in the direction of a glance and the unfolding of a finger is to live in the past, present and future of Cambodian dance. In a country where positive steps are now more important than ever, it is a miracle to see someone place their feet with dignity, purpose and assurance. New Cambodia has possibilities that never existed before. This generation is being asked to create a visionary utopian society in functional conditions that are an advance and recovery from the Pol Pot years but economically a strange throwback to times. High communism and high capitalism share a certain ideological thrust — both insist that empowerment comes by offering yourself to the Machine, that power is located outside the self, outside the community. The bitter emptiness of those promises still lingers in the backs of our mouths and the fronts of our minds. There must be better ways. The new Cambodia has hip-hop, for one thing. As an active, empowering agent of youth — social and political engagement, rigour, discipline, daring, pleasure, fulfilment, liberation, and global community — hip-hop cuts across boundaries and opens a space for the possible, the imaginable, and the cool. The apsaras are getting down, spinning it and grooving. In a culture that has epitomized itself in dance over centuries, modern dance arrives in Cambodia with new horizons and fresh aspirations. The modern dance movement in the West was created as a way of integrating artistic high-mindedness with the and truth of daily life, daily gestures: the ordinary which becomes, with refinement and attention, a path to the Cambodia is a place where for centuries there has been music and dance to accompany the picking of cardamom, where art has existed unselfconsciously in the fields and the villages as an inseparable part of the rhythm of life, offering continuity, lifting spirits, creating social cohesion, and bringing joy to endurance and vision to hard work. The new generation of Cambodian dancers has many to choose from, to explore, to integrate, and to inform the next incarnation of their rare and beautiful country. Dance is movement, and Cambodia is moving. The classical forms will always die and be reborn, recovered and re-imagined. This is life

simultaneous

colonial

simplicity extraordinary.

vocabularies

itself. The new forms will deepen, explode, proliferate, and open themselves to newer exuberances and technologies and new social relationships. There must be reforms, but those reforms cannot be, in the tradition of Pol Pot or high capitalism, heartless. The classical dance forms evolved in the context of a royal court. How might they now evolve in the context of a deepening democracy? Inspired artists are working on this question. What does the incipient democracy on the dance floor of a club have to tell us about twenty-first century social forms? Politics? Economics? And in the new globalized century, dance is a form that moves across language barriers — every human speaks the of the body. This perhaps offers an opening to expressing so much that has gone unexpressed for so long. At a time when most people are experiencing neither true nor meaningful change, artistic practice offers an ongoing laboratory, a window, into what people are hoping for and what might be achievable in this lifetime or the next. Learning from the past, and cultivating future masters, while embodying right now with overwhelming courage, intensity, humour, coolness, and allure, today’s dancers are the indicators of tomorrow’s Cambodia. Their work is not talk, but action, placing their belief systems inside their bodies, and offering their bodies in testimony and in the service of their country. While we await justice, the placement of a hand indicates poise, balance and negotiation of complexity. While we await fair trade, the exchange on a dance floor indicates mutual regard, interdependence and fine calculation. While we await ecological responsibility, a dance company is presenting an image of a working ecosystem of interpenetrating intentions, their moment-tomoment fragility and their long-term consequences. In fact, we are not awaiting justice, fairness or sensitivity to our environment. We are creating those things every day. These who have chosen a path of hardship and maximum effort, are creating more of these qualities than most of the rest of us, and they are bringing them into the world minute by minute as part of a sacred trust. All honour to their teachers; and all honour to them, as future teachers. Because they are cool.

language

stability

dancers,

Peter Sellars

Photo by Kevin Higa

Renowned theatre, opera and festival director Peter Sellars is one of the most innovative and powerful forces in the performing arts in America and abroad. A visionary artist, Mr Sellars is known for groundbreaking interpretations of classic works. Whether it is Mozart, Handel, Shakespeare, Sophocles, or the sixteenth century Chinese playwright Tang Xianzu, Mr Sellars strikes a universal chord with audiences, engaging contemporary social and political issues. Besides being a prolific director, Mr Sellars is a professor at the Department of World Arts and Cultures at UCLA and a resident curator of the Telluride Film Festival. He is the recipient of a MacArthur Fellowship, the Erasmus Prize, the Sundance Institute Risk-Takers Award, the Gish Prize, and was recently elected to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

Preface Dance in the Asia–Pacific region is a diverse cultural matrix where new contemporary dance occurs alongside continuing traditions such as tribal, folk and court dances and ritual practices. A that expresses all aspects of life, tradition and change, dance is also a ‘meeting point’ for modernity and post-modernity, history and ‘post-history’, the present and the future where complex aesthetic and philosophical challenges are negotiated. Artists are addressing these challenges with integrity and through developing unique performance styles that are evolving. Working through an empathetic approach that is grounded in regional traditions, choreographers from the of the Asia–Pacific region are at the forefront of developing a new international genre of contemporary dance with unique movement vocabularies and narratives. No dance lover, or scholar can ignore the dynamism and explosion of creative energy from this region. The books in this series discuss the meeting points, intersections and integration of dance cultures and how choreographers, associated artists, and companies of the region choose to imaginatively invent, blend, fuse, select, and morph these multiple influences. Pedagogy, training, production resources, logistic support and, in some instances, imposed restrictions such as censorship all impinge on the artistic process — above all, the passion to create, the need to perform and the desire to be heard underpins all art. In dance, the body is a powerful means of dialogue that, through embodiment, encapsulates signs and symbols of place and belief. Rather than emulating Western dance forms, there is a palpable confidence in personal creative expressions that are valued, applauded and enjoyed — the Asia–Pacific choreographers are making evocative and enigmatic dance theatre that touches a human chord and implicitly shows the power of dance to move

continuum subtlety constantly countries

practitioner performers,

and inspire us. The complexity of these developments may not seem a big step to outsiders, but to those versed in the traditional forms, these small steps represent giant leaps. How does an identity emerge from such eclecticism in the Asia– Pacific? Dance that is thematically inspired by unique narratives and regional ‘storytelling’ traditions, history and social issues occur alongside predominately abstract choreography constructed from a diversity of movement vocabularies from the East and the West. Choreographers are incorporating imagery that is metaphoric, symbolic and iconic to make poetic statements about their world. In this amalgam memories are embodied, constructed and deconstructed, encoded and decoded into new themes and movement vocabularies in powerful and poignant moments. For instance, across the region, one of the greatest epic stories of all time, the Ramayana, a tale that is reinterpreted from India, to Bali, Thailand, Cambodia and beyond is explored in myriad ways. It is revisited and interrogated by practitioners through film, drama, dance, and the visual arts — there is much to contemplate and debate in the interpretation of the characters and the intricacies of the story line that reveals universal aspects of human frailty such as the struggle between good and evil, weakness and power, lust and greed, the masculine and the feminine, and the search for the soul. It is timely to be inspired by the breadth and diversity of dance in the Asia–Pacific region. The Celebrating Dance in Asia and the Pacific series focuses on themes of evolving contemporary tradition and change, intercultural research and occurring through artist exchanges, pedagogy, revitalizing and preserving cultural heritage — rich areas for research with implications to readers throughout the global village. An focus is to highlight the artists’ perspective on their work and its cultural and philosophical context through the inclusion of a number of artists’ essays in each volume. These insights give invaluable information about the inspiration, intention and connections for the dancers and choreographers. It is also an opportunity for them to present their thoughts on the dichotomy between the preservation of dance in their communities and the desire to choreograph contemporary dance informed by and classical forms.

choreography, practice

important cultural traditional

There inevitably remain many tensions, dilemmas and

uncertainties for both artists and audiences where familiar ground is constantly shifting as audiences engage with the new Asian contemporary dance. Rapid changes and the shock of the new may be

uncomfortable to some but exhilarating and liberating to others. Ultimately, despite divergent views and the polarities of the traditional and the contemporary, there is a sense of respect for all that dance offers, for fellow artists and the passion they all share. Audiences in the Asia–Pacific region and across the world are witnessing continuing traditions that bridge and celebrate rich cultural heritages alongside new explorations and eureka moments for both established and developing choreographers. The words of Carl Wolz, the founder of the World Dance Alliance, epitomize the philosophy and content of this new series, Celebrating Dance in Asia and the Pacific. Celebrating the variety, the depth and the beauty of human difference through the art of dance.

— Singapore, WDA conference 2001 Stephanie Burridge Series Editor

Acknowledgements This book is published in association with Amrita Performing Arts (Cambodia) and the World Dance Alliance Asia Pacific to celebrate and document the resurgence of dance in Cambodia after the fall of the Khmer Rouge. The World Dance Alliance (WDA) serves as primary voice for dance and dancers throughout the world, and encourages the of ideas and the awareness of dance in all its forms. Part of the strategy of the WDA Asia Pacific is to contribute to the and heritage of affiliated countries through the region. This project was initiated through the Research and Documentation Network of WDA Asia Pacific. We would like to thank WDA-AP President Professor Mohd Anis Md Nor, WDA General Secretary Dr Cheryl Stock and Dr Urmimala Sarkar Munsi, co-chair of the WDA-AP Research and Documentation Network for their valuable insights, support and encouragement. Amrita Performing Arts has contributed significantly to Cambodia’s performing arts scene by assisting in the Cambodian-led mission to revive and preserve its ancient theatre and dance heritage with an emphasis on national capacity while fostering creativity through the presentation, mentorship and nurturing of contemporary dance and theatre artists. The initial development of this project was made possible through a seed grant from the Rockefeller Foundation. Alan Feinstein was Associate Director of the Rockefeller Foundation, Southeast Asia regional office in Bangkok at the time of conceiving this book. Alan has been a devoted colleague, mentor and friend throughout the initial years of Amrita’s development when the Rockefeller Foundation was a major supporter of our activities. He has a long and devoted history with Cambodia’s arts scene through previous foundation postings. He encouraged us to move beyond the edict of ‘revival and preservation’ for its own sake

exchange research

transforming

building,

and to address contemporary creativity as to how it relates to the revival process. We are very grateful to his encouragement and support which has had a significant influence on our current phase of development. Sincere thanks to the staff of Amrita Performing Arts for their hard work at coordinating the project with the Cambodian artists including a great deal of translation and nurturing through this very unusual process. Suon Bun Rith Kang Rithisal Sin Sokunthea

Director Program Coordinator

Country

Office Manager

Special thanks to all of the Cambodian teachers, students and artists who contributed essays. Through sharing with us stories that were often difficult to confront and writing from their hearts, this process has hopefully contributed to their own process of moving forward. Finally, the editors are grateful to Routledge in India, especially Omita Goyal for her immediate interest in the Celebrating Dance in Asia and the Pacific series and Pallavi Narayan for her editing skills and understanding of dance in the region.

Introduction Stephanie Burridge Beyond the Apsara: Celebrating Dance in Cambodia celebrates and documents the resurgence of dance in Cambodia after the fall of the Khmer Rouge. It honours not only the remarkable of the few remaining masters of the art of dance who are reviving and preserving the famous classical dances, but also the courage and resolution of a generation of young artists who are imaginatively pursuing their passion to forge new paths in contemporary dance. All are rebuilding from the ashes of war and feel the weight of responsibility of this enormous task. The senior artists are researching and reviving the classical dances, teaching at the acclaimed Royal University of Fine Arts in Phnom Penh and boldly mentoring young dancers as they embrace influences coming from both the East and the West. Many of the artists in Cambodia perished during the infamous Pol Pot regime — they now feel the urgency to pass on the classical dances to their young students before they pass on. Khmer classical dance dates from between the first and sixth centuries — during the period of Angkor, dancers of the Royal Ballet were considered ‘servants of gods’ and the link between heaven and earth. In 2003, Cambodian classical dance was awarded World Heritage Status by UNESCO — this the importance, and perhaps the burden, of the task of preservation. This volume includes contributions from the royal family, writers and commentators and the dancers themselves in a collection of interviews. It begins with a historical perspective from Her Royal Highness Princess Norodom Buppha Devi — this chapter, ‘Royal Dances of Cambodia: Revival and Preservation’,

commitment

contemporary

traditional themselves confirmed

eminent

includes a review of Sovannahong, choreographed by Her Royal Highness. The Princess’s grandmother, Her Majesty Queen Sisowath Kossomak Neary Roth Serey Vaddhana in 1955, created the original version of this work but it was never completed. Fragments existed but with the support of Amrita Performing Arts and funding from the Rockefeller Foundation the research and reconstruction has allowed the full work to come to life for the first time in July 2008. Articles by Hun Pen, ‘I am a Cambodian Classical Dancer: A Personal Story’ and Chey Chankethya, ‘Dance Education in Cambodian’ give us insight into the next experiences and perspectives on future directions of performance and dance education in Cambodia. Toni ShapiroPhim’s chapter, ‘Don’t Even Think About Having Me’, gives some background to the harsh realities of pursuing a dance career for women in Cambodia. An eminent writer on dance and human rights, Toni has lived in and visited Cambodia over many years and her observations come from interviews and discussions with years of research and investigation. Probably second only to the temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia’s cultural hierarchy is the delicate apsara dance for women — both integral to the well-trodden tourist trail to Cambodia. This dance is also part of the reconstruction and revival programme; however, contrary to popular belief, it has a comparatively recent history. Inspired by temple engravings in 1962, the late Queen Kossomak created the dance for her granddaughter HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi, the Cambodian Royal Ballet’s prima ballerina of the time. Cambodian classical dancers also captured the imagination of French artist Auguste Rodin who made numerous sketches of the Cambodian Royal Ballet when they visited France in 1906. French writer and diplomat Thierry Bayle recounts Rodin’s enchantment with the dancers that is documented through the artist’s sketches. Likewise, Pornrat Damrhung’s chapter ‘Cambodians Dancing across Borders: Three Contemporary Examples’ and Peter Chin’s ‘Transmission of the Invisible: Form and Essence’ are concerned with cultural exchange, exploration of cultural heritage and of this heritage across borders. They tell us about between Cambodian and non-Cambodian artists working together on collaborative projects. One of the most extraordinary articles comes from Sophiline Cheam Shapiro, a member of the first generation of dancers to

generation’s

combined

perceptions projects

graduate from the Royal University of Fine Arts. After the fall of Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge, she toured nationally and internationally with the school’s ensemble and then immigrated to Southern California in 1991, where she studied and taught at UCLA. An award-winning choreographer, she has returned to Cambodia to establish her own company and academy. While often exploring themes and scenarios that traverse art forms, time and place — for example her interpretations of Shakespeare’s Othello and Mozart’s The Magic Flute — her innovative works draw on her classical dance heritage. Often working against the odds and certainly outside the mainstream, ‘Dancing Off Centre’ is a personal story of artistry and the discipline, courage and focus required to work as an independent artist in Cambodia. The chapters conclude with overviews of dance in the region and concluding remarks about future directions of dance by the editors. The artists’ interviews began by talking to groups of young dancers sitting around the table at the Amrita Performing Arts headquarters in Phnom Penh. For the dancers, this was an exciting moment. They had an opportunity to write down their personal stories, experiences and ideas for new directions for dance in Cambodia. There is tension in this statement. It is perhaps also a metaphor for the whole country — moving forward from such a horrific recent past is not easy. Cambodian dancers work within the context of tradition, cultural heritage, spiritual and family values and they study within a ‘master teacher’ system. Their dance traditions include folk, court and ritual dancers that have an essential function in society. Although each of them considers it a great privilege to perform in classical ballets, they also want to embrace other directions, such as contemporary dance. While respecting their teachers and rich cultural heritage, they have a thirst to learn more about contemporary dance not only as a physical form but also as a way of expressing their feelings about the present and the past — to move freely to new rhythms and pulses of the present time. Dancers like Mok Sokhom, Chumvan Sodhachivy (Belle), Soeur Thavarak and Sam Sathya have had international performing experience participating in and events in Canada, Japan, Korea, Norway, the UK, Australia and beyond. They want be part of the next wave of choreographers and dancers in Cambodia — to be creative, build on tradition and join the evolution of new dance in the Asian region. In these very personal articles, they reveal their thoughts and feelings.

supreme

extensive festivals

All around the city of Phnom Penh there are monuments and reminders of the Killing Fields. Toul Sleng Museum is a place full of dark tragedy. Photographs of the executed, many of them children, line the walls of the old school building that has been left intact as a reminder of the Pol Pot reign of terror. Nearly 2 million Cambodians perished through the brutal killings or died of starvation and disease during the Khmer Rouge years. Some of the senior master teachers we spoke with, like Proeung Chhieng, Menh Kossony, Pen Sokhuon, and Soth Somaly, survived these dark times and many of them lost young family members. Amongst the poverty of the country and the memories, the dancers, both young and old, journey towards the future while respecting and honouring the past. Beyond the Apsara: Celebrating Dance in Cambodia shares and documents their journey.

1 Royal Dances of Cambodia — Revival and Preservation Her Royal Highness Princess Norodom Buppha Devi Stephanie Burridge transcribed this chapter from interviews with Her Royal Highness Princess Norodom Buppha Devi. It was translated by Suon Bun Rith (Amrita Performing Arts) and discussions were conducted in the presence of Fred Frumberg (Director, Amrita Performing Arts) and Proeung Chhieng (Vice Rector of the Royal University of Fine Arts, Phnom Penh).

Throughout the history of Cambodia, the royal family have been the guardians, and the ‘keepers’, of the dance. In 2003, classical dance was awarded World Heritage status by UNESCO — this confirmed the international importance of our classical dance. It also confirmed to us that the tasks of reconstruction and revitalization were essential — there is an urgency to pass on the traditional classical dances to the young students before the masters themselves pass on. The Khmer classical dances lie in the memories of the surviving masters; there are very few written records or remaining films and to assist us. During the reign of terror of the Khmer Rouge, many of the dance masters, dancers, musicians, and artists were executed. In the 1970s, all artistic activity in the country ceased and many of the remaining artists went into hiding. I left the country in 1973 to live in exile with my father, His Majesty King Norodom

Cambodian

preservation,

photographs

HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi

Sihanouk, and we moved between Beijing and Paris. Against the backdrop of the chilling statistics that 80 per cent to 90 per cent of the artists in Cambodia perished, we feared that the Khmer classical dance that has long been synonymous with Cambodian culture might be lost. In 1981, I taught in some of the refugee camps along the Thai border. We tried to keep the classical dance alive and lift the spirits of the people there. From 1973, I did not dance except in my father’s films (1966–80). In 1981, I also moved around the Khmer communities in the USA — California, Washington DC, Oregon — and helped teach and inspire the Cambodian people by reminding them about our rich cultural heritage. I also and taught in France in Ballet Classique Khmer. In 1991, I returned with my father, King Norodom Sihanouk. As you can imagine, the celebrations were fantastic — that same evening I performed for the last time to rejoice with the people. When we returned there were less than 40 surviving dancers in the country and only a few of these were skilled in the classical repertoire and could teach the dances to a new generation. It was devastating. We had to do everything ourselves — begin again and gather the few people together who could remember the steps and the characters of the ballets. They had to train the younger teachers to help us — it was our responsibility to bring the back from becoming almost extinct. Costumes had to be designed and remade, musical instruments sourced, young trained, steps remembered, and the characters of the Reamker (the Khmer version of Ramayana), like Hanuman, the White Donkey General, had to be brought back to life. It is a slow and painstaking process and we must move forward step by step. Some of the revival and preservation work was started in the refugee camps; other Cambodian dancers regrouped in France and the United States. Because the classical dance was never notated, choreography was mainly passed physically from the teacher to the young dancers — the restoration process has relied largely on the memories of the school’s senior masters. This process has been supported by the royal family, from our return to the country in 1981 after living in exile abroad. The national classical ballet, reconstituted in the early 1980s by a handful of surviving dancers after the regime, has now become highly and several groups have toured successfully abroad. This

performed

dances dancers

professional

Royal Dances of Cambodia

is a positive sign and important for the pride of Cambodia — to show our dance internationally as we did before.

Royal University of Fine Arts An integral part of this renaissance of traditional Khmer artistry occurs at the Royal University of Fine Arts in Phnom Penh. Although it was inaugurated many years ago in 1918, it was established as it exists today by my father, King Norodom Sihanouk, in 1965. (It was closed during the Pol Pot regime from 1975–79.) Now called the Royal University of Fine Arts (RUFA), it was reopened in 1981 to become an integral part of the process. The government implemented a policy of revival and reconstruction, placing the school at the heart of the activity to restore our culture. The school and the infrastructure existed and it was already a repository for knowledge; our first priority was to revitalize our heritage and teach the repertoire of the classical dance. RUFA was also an important place for us to focus our research efforts and build up our resources. Today there are many teachers and students, and there is a curriculum in place that combines intense training in classical dance and academic studies that culminate in a Bachelor of Arts degree for senior students. Young children can begin their training from the age of seven or eight at the Secondary School of Fine Arts in the junior training programme. It is essential for the dancers to begin when they are young in order to master the exacting requirements of the movements for the Khmer classical dance. It requires extreme flexibility to attain the complex postures of the dance and the young students must work hard at this every day. The dancers are chosen by audition and the training is stringent. They have to have all the right attributes — a perfect face, elegant, flexible fingers and a strong body that can maintain their balance while performing the refined movements. Khmer classical dance is very difficult to learn and it is very strict — the movements are set and must be exactly as they are taught for each of the roles in the repertoire. Not many students can make it all the way through the course and be able to perform as professional dancers. It is very prestigious to be chosen to attend the school — everyone wants to go and they participate with pride. Despite the difficult training and the limited number of who graduate at a professional level, the school believes it is

formally

performed

dancers

important to teach anyone who wants to learn classical dance. We believe strongly that this is part of their culture and their heritage. If they learn some of the dances, they will understand them and come to love them; they will also attend performances and rebuild an interest in classical dance. This is extremely important for the future. To facilitate this, classes may be held in the weekend and outside school hours for those that cannot be full-time in the programme. The children of diplomats and foreigners also like to participate in these classes — they can learn something about Cambodian culture through the dance. We have also sent our teachers to the provinces from time to time so the students there can have an opportunity to participate and learn. Sometimes from the provinces come to Phnom Penh for residencies at the school; we try to reach out to as many students as possible. Extra classes are also a way of paying our teachers a little extra money — it helps them to sustain their lives as artists. One of the aims of the school includes revitalizing classical dance through remembering the gestures and stories. of the classical form is our first priority. Although some records exist on films that have survived, most of the occurs by passing the steps on from teacher to teacher, teacher to dancer and dancer to dancer — it is laborious, timeconsuming work. Often only the parts of a dance exist and the older masters must work creatively to bring the sections together into a whole, like all the parts of the Reamker whereby each gesture and nuance for each character must be examined. Proeung Chhieng, a former famous ‘monkey dancer’, Vice Rector at the Royal University of Fine Arts and artistic assistant to the Princess says that:

dancers

Knowledge reconstruction

… the essence of Cambodian dance is smoothness, balance and the concentrated charm of curved lines …

The delicate Apsara dance, for instance, is also part of the

reconstruction and revival programme; however, contrary to popular

belief, it has a comparatively recent history. Inspired by temple engravings, in 1962 my grandmother, the late Queen Sisowath Kossomak Neary Roth Serey Vaddhana, created the dance for me, as I was the Royal Ballet’s prima ballerina at that time. Now it is probably the best known dance in Cambodia — the many

tourists that visit here and audiences abroad associate Khmer classical dance with the graceful Apsara dance.

Dance at the Palace In the past, ballet was only performed in the palace to the royal family. The purpose was to commemorate the royal ancestors and to honour the gods. Khmer classical dance dates from between the first and sixth centuries. During the period of Angkor, dancers of the Royal Ballet were believed to be ‘divine messengers’ and a conduit between the king and the gods. During their it was thought that the dancers were ritually possessed by the gods and when the dancing concluded, the wishes of the king and the country would be granted. Hence the dance not only linked heaven and earth, it had a historic dual function whereby it was both an aesthetic expression of our culture and a political and philosophical affirmation of the social structures and beliefs. The traditional dances were often reinterpreted to reflect the change in politics and the prevailing situation in Cambodia. Young girls about six or seven years of age from all walks of life were eligible for training at the palace. The children not only came from the families of the high officials and government but from all classes of the society. Traditionally, members of the royal family also took part in the dance and trained to a high level — it was part of court life. They could take part in at the palace but, like all the dancers, they did not perform outside. However, over the years, changes have come about through the continual involvement of the palace and the keen interest of members of the royal family in the classical dance. For example, when I was the principal dancer of the Khmer Royal Ballet, I not only toured the world performing our classical dances, but for the first time, we showed Khmer classical ballet to the people in Cambodia. After the demise of the Khmer Rouge regime dance was no longer taught at the palace. We cannot keep the dance just at the palace now — it belongs to the people. It is the property of the nation and not just for the king and the royal family to enjoy. Dance is now secularized; it is the national pride of Cambodia and the people need to help us protect the dance — it is our fragile Our number one priority is to keep, revive and preserve the dance and bring back dignity to Cambodia and its people. After so

performances,

officers performances

heritage.

Sovannahong Performers: HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi (fourth from right) at the opening night curtain call on 4 July 2008 with dancers from the Secondary School of Fine Arts Photographer: Anders Jiras

much has happened, we need to feel this pride in our country — we are extremely proud of our classical dance heritage. It is unique and special to our country. July 2008 marked a special event in Cambodia’s dance history — there was a performance of Sovannahong. I directed and the revival of this work based on the original version that was created in 1955 by my grandmother, Queen Sisowath Kossomak. I was to have danced the principal role of Princess Keth Soryong; however, the ballet was never completed. existed but with the support of Amrita Performing Arts and funding from the Rockefeller Foundation for research and reconstruction, the full work was performed for the first time. Technical support for the July production was provided by the French Cultural Centre. This was an extremely important event in our recent history as it showed the three components of our programme of revival, reconstruction and preservation in a very tangible way — everyone could see what we had achieved when the people came to the theatre to see the dance. This dance can now be preserved for future generations of dancers who can learn and perform it for audiences to enjoy.

choreographed

Fragments

Revival, Reconstruction and Preservation There are three phases of revival for Khmer classical dance in Cambodia. These include reviving the numerous gestures and characters, reviving sequences and finally reconstructing whole ballets like Sovannahong and Reamker. The old masters and the dancers via their collective memories have recreated these For example, the complete work of Sovannahong (that is reviewed below) has never been staged before; only gestures, some of the sections and a few of the characters have been seen but never the whole work. Some scenes based on an old legend existed but they were never made into a full production until now (4 July 2008) — it was a historic moment and immensely to the Cambodian strategic policy of reviving and dance. The process of reconstruction and rehearsal for this performance confirmed that there is a great deal of work yet to be done. For example, the human/clown character in the of Sovannahong has a completely new way of dancing that has not been seen since it was last performed in 1955. The style incorporates unusual use of the whole body rather than just

performances.

important preserving

performance

the extremities of the hands, head and feet. The revival of this new character with its distinctive postures and gestures reinforces the importance of the three phases of revival — there is so much material, characters and gestures to be remembered and ones that have not even been shown yet. This was just part of the first phase. The second was to connect some of the sections that were well known and finally, the third was to put it all together as a fulllength ballet that is now about two hours long without a break. It is complete with all the production elements for staging in the theatre — the costumes, the music and the lighting.

Review of Sovannahong Stephanie Burridge Chaktomuk Theater, 4 July 2008 Choreographed by HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi; Assistant Artistic Director: Proeung Chhieng. Performed by dancers and musicians of the Secondary School of Fine Arts; supported by the Rockefeller Foundation and in collaboration with Amrita Performing Arts with technical support by the French Cultural Centre.

produced The performance of Sovannahong began with Her Royal

Highness ceremonially opening the dance by placing the beautiful

gold headdresses on the principal performers. It was obviously a great privilege for the dancers to perform for her on this historic occasion to a full house of mainly invited guests. The dancing was remarkable. Sin Sakada skilfully danced the role of the Princess with a flow of movement that embodied grace and dignity. One particular moment featured the dancer’s arms rippling in a way that paralleled that of the prima ballerina’s role as Odette in the great Western classical ballet, Swan Lake. It was a special honour for the dancer to recreate the role originally made for HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi. The costumes were exquisite, featuring gold thread and sparkling embellishments. A small orchestra known as the Pin Peat, consisting of traditional instruments such as xylophone, drums and gongs and the sralai (an oboe-like reed instrument), played and four singers sounded out the lyrics in a deep, throaty wail. For the benefit of non-Khmer speakers in the audience, the subtitles of the lyrics were projected onto a screen.

The story unfolded through a series of scenes — they were short and each drew applause from the audience as the dancers exited. The narrative was rich with symbolism and metaphors about love, duty, trust and deception, life and death. The story and the development of the roles also related to the Hindu caste system of the Brahmins. The programme tells us: … At the kingdom of Kreama Borey, Preah Bat Chetra, King of the Giants, has a beautiful daughter named Princess Keth Soryong. The King arranges a marriage for his daughter against her wishes. She is distraught … so she writes a note that floats down the river … it is found by her true, yet unknown love, Prince Sovannahong ... he seeks her out and seduces her … they fall in love.

Through various subplots and twists and turns, Prince Sovannahong is slain by the Princess’s father — the Princess then turns herself into a man and sets out on a quest to bring her lover back to life. She revives him through a magic spell, then,fearing retribution, returns to her own kingdom. Prince Sovannahong leaves his family to search for her. The plot provides the for the familiar characters of Khmer classical dance to appear. Apart from the protagonists mentioned, other include members of the royal household, Preah Bat Chetra (King of the Giants), the Giant General, the Giant Soldiers, the Royal Maids and a Divine Being. This extraordinary evening of dance affirmed that the highest level of Khmer classical dance, featuring elegant and refined movement, is alive and in good hands with the present group of young dancers and their teachers. Nothing was left to chance in this recreation and revival of the production, The concentration was palpable — the dancers had invested deep emotional energy and commitment to their roles and to the professionalism of the performance. The majority of the performers were still students at the famous Secondary School of Fine Arts but included some graduates and staff members from the Royal University of Fine Arts, Phnom Penh. They performed with great composure and skill. All the features of the Khmer classical dance — deep knee bends so that the upper body can move in all directions, turned up toes, flexed hands and fingers, fluidity, balance, and an innate serenity — were present and the graceful dancers touched the ground lightly. In

opportunity characters

their entrances and exits, they almost seemed to float above the floor as they swept in and out with small, fast steps. They worked with a hyper-extended arched spine with the body leaning forward to counter-balance the arched back, while the extremities of their arms, head and postures related the narrative. Male and female roles (all traditionally danced by women with the exception of two male dancer character roles), real and mythical characters interweave in the dance in symmetrical patterns. The flowing movements were expressive and the emotions were conveyed through a complexity of gestures, revealing the stock attributes of each character. For instance, the courtship dance showing the love between the Prince and Princess was created entirely through highly stylized movement. The tableau of seduction that took place on a central platform on the stage was danced through a beautiful, simple and dignified set of poses for the two lovers. It featured hand gestures that opened and closed like flowers — they were precise and expressive. Even the fight scenes between the Giant Soldiers and the Prince were restrained and the arrow that pierced the Prince’s heart to kill him was strategically placed so that he could exit immediately. It is a tradition that the performers always die off-stage, minimizing the potential for histrionics in such scenes. The beauty of the performance lay in the dancers’ ability to perform the intricate details of the choreography and each moment — their body posture, head position, raised insteps, eyes and finger movements — in perfect harmony. It was compelling viewing. The dance exists in both a purely narrative form whereby the interest for the audience is to see what happens next in the plot, as well as in the aesthetics of the dancing itself. To the untrained eye, there are only small variations in the movements for each role despite Khmer classical dance requiring years of training to learn up to 4,500 variations of gestures. A special aspect of Sovannahong was the introduction of a new character that had never been seen before. When Princess Keth Soryong turns herself into a man to search for her lover, she is accompanied on her travels by a character with a new movement vocabulary that is revived from the 1920s. It is the role of a giant that transforms into a human. The role requires comparatively free movement that includes turned in feet, small jumps, upper torso spinal movements and whole arm, circular sways reminiscent of Western contemporary

dance with flowing movement initiated from the centre of the body. Nevertheless, contextually a gulf exists between the style of restrained Khmer classical movement and the buffoonery of this character. There was a mix of laughter and applause from both the dancers (at the dress rehearsal) and the audience as they found the role unfamiliar and the style of unusual and surprising. The 600-strong gathering at Phnom Penh’s Chaktomuk Theater were entranced by this complex piece of Khmer classical dance. Although there were many dignitaries in the audience, it was free to the public and advertised as such in the local press. It was a pioneering effort by Her Royal Highness and the dancers and marked a milestone in the Cambodian programme of revival and preservation of classical ballets. As the Princess took her bow with the young dancers, there was a tremendous sense of pride and affirmation of Cambodian culture. Moreover, her direct and easy rapport with the dancers and the community was obvious and this said much about her passion and to dance.

traditional movement

participation commitment The Future — Classical and Contemporary Dance in Cambodia

HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi continues: At present, the government policy is to reconstruct, revive and preserve the classical dance. I know some of the young and graduating students are keen to explore dance. However, so much has already been lost that I feel we cannot create new movement vocabularies or stories yet. It is too early — we must work on the revival programme step by step to reconstruct our heritage. There is also limited time — the older masters need to dedicate their time to remember the old gestures and bring them back. This is a long and slow process. They are a fragile resource. There is limited knowledge and the situation at present is still quite tenuous. In addition, life for the artists is very difficult now. In the past artists at the palace were able to dedicate their entire being to their art. Now, when the dancers dance they cannot stop thinking of all the obstacles they face. While we can preserve the aesthetics and technique of the dance, it is very difficult to preserve the spirit.

professionals contemporary

Perhaps the graduates from the Royal University of Fine Arts, with their strong classical background, might explore some form of contemporary dance. It is not impossible — they might create stories and movements that are unique. I am not opposed to this. When they finish school, they are free to do many things, not just to be a classical dancer. I am openminded about this and see the possibility of classically trained dancers creating innovative movements and choreography in the future. I would hope that they make something distinctive and beautiful, not just a copy of contemporary dance from somewhere else. Several of our dance graduates are exploring some contemporary dance through workshops and projects that have been initiated here. Some have also travelled overseas to perform and study. However, at present there is only one professional training school in the country and we do not have the option of going in multiple directions. Teachers are also not trained in other forms of dance and we should keep our focus on the task at hand. The dance masters are collectively trying to remember the old gestures and pass these on to the students. This is an urgent task and at present does not leave time to explore new directions. We must also be wary of the influence of globalization on Cambodian dance and culture, for example, music video clips from MTV, You Tube and so on; we need to stay focused and refine our classical dance or it will be lost. One step in the wrong direction can endanger the dance; I am not afraid of local involvement in new developments but I am fearful of the wrong outside influences. All over the world, young people are attracted to pop music and they watch dance video clips on television. We have to keep our Cambodian culture strong and in the public sphere so that we do not become consumed by popular culture. The art form is in the process of redefining its meaning and purpose. The immediate need is to revive and preserve more classical ballets for the future. There is much to do and new are already being considered. Like Sovannahong, many can be remembered but to reconstruct a complete ballet via the collective memory of the remaining masters is an arduous but important task. A permanent theatre also needs to be built to stage the performances so they can be shared with the Cambodian people.

projects sections

I am very proud that we have been able to stage the

performance of Sovannahong in its entirety. It was a special day for me

and a significant step in our process of revival and preservation.

Her Royal Highness Princess Norodom Buppha Devi has devoted her life to rebuilding Khmer classical dance. The eldest daughter of King Norodom Sihanouk, she became the greatest dancer of her generation, performing for many world leaders and dignitaries. In 1973, she followed her father to China and until 1991, the Princess spent most of her time teaching dance, particularly in the refugee camps at the Cambodia/Thai border. In 1991, she returned to Cambodia at the start of the peace process. In 1993, after elections were organized with the support of United Nations, the newly established Royal Government of Cambodia assigned her as high adviser of the Government for Culture and Fine Arts, giving special attention to the Royal Ballet. Appointed Minister of Culture and Fine Arts in 1998, she worked tirelessly to raise awareness and encourage international understanding of Cambodia’s tangible and intangible cultural heritage. Under her leadership, the Royal Ballet of Cambodia was proclaimed by UNESCO as a masterpiece of the oral and intangible heritage of humanity. The proclamation took place in Paris on 7 November 2003. She is Emeritus Professor and Choreographer of the Cambodian Royal Ballet.

2 'I am a Cambodian Classical Dancer' A Personal Story Hun Pen To my parents, Hun Sarin and Heng Nayto and to my teacher, Chea Samy

It is a widespread belief among Cambodian people that classical dance is a simple and pleasurable skill and has little value in relation to the other skills in society. Yet classical dance is an art form that is becoming increasingly prominent in Cambodia, It reflects the Khmer identity and has gained attention on the international stage as a unique art form due to its technique, integrity and elaborate costumes. However, outsiders may not realize how important it is to the people of Cambodia — classical dance is one of the art forms that depict the verve and the colour of the Cambodian people. To ordinary people, dancers and their dance technique may look the same when they perform on the stage. However, it is important to describe the training, and how one trains, in order to become a good dancer. There are many facets of my life that are intertwined with classical dance and art: travelling, education, academic studies, political involvement, dance training, leadership training and drama as well as voice training. I will now give a brief description of a small dimension of my life in dance that naturally included high and low moments. This article covers the highlights of my life as a Cambodian dancer. I will divide this autobiographical sketch into four brief sections. The first is how I started to study dance, the second is my training in classical dance, the third is my transitional period, and the fourth is the conclusion.

Cambodian

‘I am a Cambodian Classical Dancer’

I am a Cambodian classical dancer. I am the youngest daughter amongst a family of four daughters. My father is a leader and a man of compassion, tolerance, patience, understanding and my mother is a beautiful, loving, caring, dedicated, gentle, respectful, and strong woman. I grew up in a strong family where my father has always been my intellectual advisor and teacher while my mother has always been my mentor and guide. Their dedication, devotion, patience, and guidance have played a major part in helping me to become who I am today — a dancer and educator. My life as a dancer on the stage may appear to the audience as a prima ballerina who is happy; my friends and colleagues see me as a woman with luck. Yet they may not know how I have struggled with my dance training and my education — to be a good dancer in a very competitive field, I have had to face many struggles and challenges, both emotionally and physically.

Five Years Old and My First Stage Performance I met my dance teacher who later (in 1990) became my personal dance teacher when I enrolled at the School of Fine Arts. Her name is Chea Samy. She was a female role dance star and was the best female dancer in Cambodia — known in Cambodia as a ‘living national treasure’. I recall the time when I was five years old. I often followed my mother to the dance hall where she taught folklore dance and along the way, I saw many dancers rehearsing. Their dance were so beautiful and elegant. I watched the dance at the School of Fine Arts almost everyday. I loved to see them dancing and loved to imitate the dance when I came back home. I met Master Chea Samy at the dance hall where she taught the students. She saw me standing with many other kids by the window watching the dance training — she called me in and asked me with a big smile if I wanted to learn how to dance. I recognized her as the most famous dance teacher and so was happy to say ‘yes’. She taught me a few dance movements. Very quickly, she said to me, ‘You are very good and you should learn how to dance. Come back again tomorrow and I will teach you more … tell your mother.’ I did not respond but I knew that I wanted to learn more about dance. My mother came and picked me up that day. I heard Master Chea Samy tell her how good I was and that I should study dance; there was no response from my mother except her smile of respect

movements training

HunPen

to Master Chea Samy. However, once I got home I was upset. I heard my mother tell my father about Master Chea Samy’s comments. My father obviously did not want me to become a dancer and neither did my mother. I did not realize how much I wanted to be a dancer until the few times I returned to the dance hall. I received a great deal of attention from Master Chea Samy. One day, Master Chea Samy taught me a dance that was an from Preah Chinavong. I kept coming back for about a week and practiced the dance with her. Then she asked me to dance with the music. A group of Pin Peat musicians played the music, the singers started to sing the song, and so I started to dance following the music and the song. All the people in the dance hall stopped and watched me. I saw Master Chea Samy had a huge smile on her face. I felt so proud but I was also shy and when I finished the dance she told me to come back to rehearse the dance a few more times before performing it on the stage. I was only five years old but I still remember how it felt to hear the words ‘perform on the stage’. I was so happy but at the same time nervous. A few days afterwards, I performed on the stage as a young Preah Chinavong with a very nice dance costume. I was so proud and got admiring comments from dance teachers as well as the audience. From that moment, I realized that I really wanted to be a classical dancer. Even though I knew my parents would never want me to become a dancer, I felt strongly that I would do anything to become one. I told my parents that I wanted to study dance. They told me that they loved me so much and that they cared for my future, and they did not want me to face difficulties when I grew up. Not understanding their decision, I remained firm in my mind although I continued my academic studies at the public school. A few years later, in 1990, at the end of fourth grade of school, I heard about the dance auditions at the University of Fine Arts. I escaped from my school and came to watch the dance training. I escaped not once but a few times until the teacher reported my absences from class to my parents. Knowing that I was always the best one in the whole school, my parents excused me for missing the classes. Soon afterwards, I enrolled for the dance audition at the dance school. It was three days of dance auditions, dance examinations and general knowledge. I passed the dance audition and examination with an excellent grade. I enrolled at

episode

the University of Fine Arts as a student from that time although my parents were still not happy about it.

Private Lessons with Master Chea Samy I came to study at the School of Fine Arts six days a week where I did dance training in the morning from 7 am until 11 am and studied general knowledge from 1:30 pm until 5 pm according to the school curriculum. Four hours of dance training was routine; every morning we would assemble and sit in rows according to the dance role we were expected to perform. I was selected to a ‘female role’ in classical dance and sat in the first row on the right hand side, which was the position for the rhythm leader of the group. Reciting the 4,500 movements, the extensive of Cambodian classical dance, was required at the beginning of every morning of practice. From start to finish, this exercise would take approximately one and a half hours. Thereafter, we would be separated to receive specialized training according to our dance role. After one month of dance training, I was the only student of my generation to be selected to perform with the older generation of dance students, which made me feel proud and surprised. Soon after, I was selected to be Master Chea Samy’s top student so I was very honoured. There were only four of us out of the hundreds of students at the University of Fine Arts that were selected. My heart felt so proud to know I had a great opportunity to have lessons at her house where I could learn extraordinary and special dance secrets. These techniques were not taught at the school and many students did not get a chance to learn them. These private lessons were conducted in the evening for two or three hours after I finished my general knowledge at school. These extracurricular lessons by 73-year-old Master Chea Samy signified her devotion to the preservation of classical dance — they went beyond the rudiments of dance movements and delved into the intricacies of classical dance composition. As the most senior and accomplished dance master, Samy was able to transmit priceless pearls of wisdom and training advice to me. Every evening after school I would go to her house and meet in her living room dressed in Samput Chanken and Aue Lakhaon (a short-sleeved shirt for dance training), while Master Chea Samy sat in her armchair and conveyed the movements to me.

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vocabulary

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Despite her ill health at the time, she committed herself to teaching her young charges the secrets and subtleties of Cambodian dance. Only when necessary would she actually rise from her chair to demonstrate a particular technique. I was made to repeat each movement in detail, commit it to memory and perfect it, after which Chea Samy would pay particular attention to my facial expressions, body, legs, and hand movements. She demanded precision at all times. At the end of the technical component of each practice session, Master Chea Samy would explain the dance techniques in the context of the history of classical dance. This was an attempt to situate the importance of classical dance within the socio-political movements in Cambodia during her time, and to pass on this understanding to me. Her perseverance and hard work paid off, as I was able to give a successful performance to the public at a very young age. This was often a painstaking and time-consuming process, but it was an invaluable transmission of knowledge that was lost when Chea Samy passed away. The last memory I have of her still stays in my head and I still feel badly about it today. After a photo session one day, Master Samy called me to her house. When I arrived in the evening, I saw her sitting in her own armchair where she usually taught me. The room was a little dark so I could not see her face clearly. The only things I remember deeply were her words to me with a sad face. ‘Come in, I do not know how much longer I can live to see this world. You are my hope and I trust you a lot that you will continue my work — to carry this heritage and spread it to the world and to the next generation of students,’ she said to me. I heard what she said but I was too young to take it seriously. The last dance lesson she taught me was an extraordinary dance known only by two dance masters, Master Chea Samy and another master — I am still searching for her. She taught me despite her pain which I did not understand. She wanted me to remember the song as it was important to preserve it as much as the dance technique itself. She made me dance and sing the song at the same time. Even though I was out of breath singing while I was dancing, I still had to do it. The lesson went beyond the sadness and emptiness that I felt inside. This situation, with her devotion to my training, stopped two weeks later due to her emergency surgery. Unfortunately, I could not even talk to her before she passed away a week later after the

classical

surgery. As my mother wanted to continue to support my talents and skills, she became my dance teacher after Chea Samy passed away. She gave me private dance lessons at home. She taught me special techniques for classical dance that I was not able to learn from school, for instance how to use my emotion and spirit with my body, that was so hard to understand and practice. She had me dance while she observed the dance movements and explained to me how to use my spirit and emotions along with my hand gestures. She taught me how to use my eyes with my spirit and the breath of my hands while dancing. It was the most extraordinary technique I have ever learned and experienced.

Performance Experiences From my training with Master Chea Samy and her direction, I was able to give a variety of remarkable performances at a very young age, both nationally and internationally. Besides a busy schedule at school and dance training, I often made time at night to perform for public and cultural events as well as government functions and at embassies. My role as Sovanmacha (golden mermaid), an episode from the Reamker story, was well known. My first performance of this role was at the Russian embassy when I was eight years old. I was dressed in my costume for almost 45 minutes and was not allowed to use the bathroom after the costume was in place. Thereafter, I would put make-up on in order to paint my face a certain colour and shape. This would take around another 30 minutes after which I would be free for a few hours until the preparation session before the performance started. Between the free hours of my preparation for the performance, I often warmed up, rehearsed the dance, and spent time on my academic assignments for school. Around an hour before the started, I would prepare my hair so it would be ready to place the head crown that weighed around one kilo on it. According to tradition, after being crowned I would pay my to my teacher and the ancestral spirits by offering five incense sticks with two small candles to my dance master. This was done to seek her blessing for a successful performance. I would train myself to concentrate and meditate for 15 minutes before stepping out onto the stage. I have followed this pre-performance routine for the entire 20 years I have been performing in Cambodia and abroad.

performance

respects Subsequently,

Performers: Left

—

Seen:Silent by January Low and Hun Pen, produced by Tang Fu Kuen January Low (Malaysia) and Hun Pen (2008) Esplanade Studio Theatre Singapore Photo courtesy The Esplanade Co Ltd Singapore —

After a year of training and experience in Cambodia as a leading dancer, I was selected for my first performance tour to France. I was nine years old at the time and too young to have any idea of what France would be like. I thought it would be a country full of white people with long noses. Our audiences were packed for the whole month and a half each time we performed in different cities. To relax after the performances, I engaged in activities with the other dancers such as workshops, sports and language exchange. I had a chance to visit cultural sites, museums, royal palaces and many other interesting places. As a young dancer, I merely enjoyed and absorbed the experiences. A few months upon my return to school, I received the award for the most outstanding student and dancer from the school. For that reason, I had to study even harder and get more involved with the newspaper, photo shoots and other film projects. From that point onwards, I had to work hard to manage my time between my studies at public and private school as well as my performances and other cultural events. Sometimes, I had to run very quickly from a seven-hour photo shoot or performance with bare feet under the hot 39 or 40 degrees Celsius sun to my classes and submit myself to a two-hour academic exam. Then I continued on to another academic private school for two hours before reaching home to have a late dinner. This was done with my dedication and patience, my devotion as well as with great support from my parents. I kept growing up and when I reached puberty, my body and changed. Hard-working and accomplished, I was acknowledged by the school as the most outstanding student and dancer every year. Later in 1997, I was rewarded by the as the best student and dancer. As a well-known I was invited to study Indonesian dance to perform for the Indonesian leader Suharto and the King of Cambodia at the royal palace. Seeing my talents, the princess of Cambodia requested me to perform solo in Chinese dance, Vietnamese dance and Indian dance. By this time, my name in the world of Cambodian performing arts had become extremely well known. Regardless of my popularity, I continued to enjoy participating in classical dance tours, conferences and workshops in various countries in Europe and Asia. However, in late 2000 began from all the travelling feelings of exhaustion. My experiences of the performance tours in Europe, which I would call ‘hectic’, were a mixture of joy, sadness and lack of sleep

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government dancer,

and rest for the whole two and a half months. The group and I had to work more than 17 hours a day at times. We were only able to sleep in bed for four hours or so and the rest of the time we spent in transit on the bus or at the theatre. We had to check out of the hotel to get ready to be on the road by 7or 7:30 every morning. During the 10-hour bus rides, we would try to rest and enjoy each other’s company. I never could fall asleep on the bus as the seat was too small and not comfortable. Therefore, I often read books and tried to do some assignments I brought with me from Cambodia. Normally I could not accomplish much. Around 12 or 1 pm we would stop at a small restaurant along the way for about an hour for lunch and then continue our journey. We would reach the theatre at around 5:30 pm and rush to get off the bus; we were able to bring only our make-up to the theatre and would leave our suitcases on the bus. We would rehearse for about an hour and then start to put on our costumes and get ready to perform at around 8 pm. The performance would finish almost two hours later and we were able to undress and get ready to leave the theatre at around 11 pm. From here, we had to spend another one or two hours on the bus to reach the restaurant where we could have dinner at around 1 am. By the time we finished dinner it would be 1:45 am and by the time we checked into the hotel and got ready for bed it would be 2:30 am or so. Sometimes we would perform, twice, first in the afternoon and again at night. This demanding schedule for the whole two and a half months made me feel very homesick and exhausted. One good thing that helped me relax during the tour was that I could visit and see different countries in Europe. Despite the hardships, difficult tour schedule and tiring travel, I did not want to give up dancing. I continued to participate in other performance tours up until the point where I felt I had done enough performing and needed to engage in other interesting activities beside classical dance, such as contemporary dance workshops or other conferences.

My Transitional Period Having learned and gained so many experiences in the performing arts for 11 years and after having made my reputation as a student and a dancer, I was selected as president of the faculty of students in 2000–2001. As a young woman in the field of dance, I had to be involved with, and work closely with, government leaders and

leaders from other universities in Cambodia. During the two months’ campaign in the city, I had to participate, meet important people for discussions and cooperate in order to promote the arts that were not so well known in Cambodia at the time. My was successful and I was able to convince the government and the intellectual community to support and promote the arts as well as provide opportunities for the poorer at my school. With the funding support from the municipal city, bags of rice and bicycles were given to the poorest selected students at the Faculty of Choreographic Arts. Various performing arts activities were organized for the benefit of the public as well as for other audiences from universities throughout Cambodia. Starting that year, I distanced myself from performing classical dance but became more engaged in leadership, and involved with organizing performances in the country. Nevertheless, I travelled whenever I had the chance. In doing so, I became exposed to changes in society and to other cultural differences. Soon after, I took an interest in contemporary dance. My grounding and in classical dance and my experience from learning dance forms of other cultures allowed me to become skilled in contemporary dance relatively quickly. I participated in various contemporary dance workshops, classes and conferences in many countries in Asia and Europe and the United States; moreover, I became a successful choreographer and performer in Cambodia and other Asian countries. In spite of my successful dance career, however, I did not overlook my academic pursuits. Having realized the lack of written documents on Cambodian art and dance, I started to pursue my academic research in 2005 on dance and its history. After four years of academic research, I have gained a greater insight and understanding of Cambodian culture and dance in the socio-political and historical context.

campaign performing students

experience different

Conclusion Many people have asked me what makes me continue dancing as a Cambodian classical dancer. Why is the soul of classical dance so important to me? Why does dance mean so much to me? It seems to be a simple question but it is difficult to answer. The sim-ple answer I would give is, ‘Because I love it and I am passionate about it.’ I have been dancing for so long and I know this dance form so well. This dance form has become rooted in my heart and in

Hun Pen as an Apsara dancer Publicity photo by Rachel Cooper for the ‘Dance: The Spirit of Cambodia’ 2001 USA tour

my soul. It is alive within my blood. I have been devoted to the art and have exercised my talents to present what I, as a Cambodian, have to offer the world. Dance is part of my identity and is my talent; to come this far, I have undergone so much hard work in training and studying with my dance master, Chea Samy, and my mother. It is so important to have a good dance master who is committed to training and taking pains to produce one good dancer. For this, I owe them tremendous gratitude. My in classical dance has complemented my training in dance movements. Despite the fact that I am pursuing my contemporary dance career and academic research, I still identify myself as a classical dancer. To develop myself to be a true dancer and performing arts scholar is not easy. I am trying to reflect and draw connections between what I have learned and the experiences I have gained in the three areas of classical dance, academic research and contemporary dance.

foundation contemporary

Hun Pen began dancing when she was five years old and began her training in classical Dance at the Royal University of Fine Arts in 1990, specializing in the female role. She is a professional classical and contemporary dancer, choreographer and theatre actor. Hun Pen has been awarded and acknowledged as the top student and dancer at the Royal University of Fine Arts since 1997. During 2002–2003 she studied at Wesleyan University in Connecticut, USA and in 2003, she obtained a BA in choreography from the Royal University of Fine Arts. In 2004 and 2005, she worked with Cambodian Living Arts as a co-director for the Mohour Srop project. The same year Pen also joined Amrita Performing Arts as an assistant project coordinator. In 2004, she studied modern dance and arts management at the Cite International des Arts in Paris and in 2005 she worked with the Gallota Dance Company in France as a cultural ambassador, choreographer and dancer. She has participated in numerous international conferences, dance workshops and performances throughout Asia, Europe and the US. In 2008, Pen obtained her masters degree in Southeast Asian Studies at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, Thailand.

3 Dance Education in Cambodia Chey Chankethya Cambodia is one of the oldest countries in the world — it used to be a great empire, especially from the second to the fifteenth century. The Angkorian Empire spread its power and civilization across the territory and even from this time, dance was an aspect of the culture and tradition of Cambodia. It played an important function in Cambodian society, and although the function has changed over time, Khmer dance has a unique way of transforming itself from generation to generation. This article will relate how dance is passed on from one place to another and from one person to the rest. Because dance has in different places and is performed by people with different levels of skill, transmitting it is a complex task. Combined with the lack of written documentation or dance notation, transferring through the body can result in confusion and uncertainty. because of its importance, Cambodian dance has survived for more than 2,000 years; to find out more about its origins and sustainability we need to probe further.

important

survived

However, The Origins of Khmer Dance From the sculptures that were found in Takéo province, for

example, Hindu divinities such as the eight-armed Vishnu that

date from the first–sixth centuries,1 we might assume that dance 1 This sculpture, and others found at the site, are from Angkor Borei, Funan (first–sixth centuries) in the present-day Takéo province — this pre-Angkor style is known as Phnom Da. They can be seen at the Cambodian National Museum, Phnom Penh.

Dance Education in Cambodia

served mainly a religious purpose during this period. At that time, people also believed in animism and offered dance and music to appease the spirits and as a tool to solve their problems. For example, when people needed rain to do their farming, they danced to ask for it from the gods — dance and music were also used to cure people from illness. Because dances were created for spiritual reasons, the movement and gestures were not set and the just moved their bodies according to the rhythm of the music. Over time, different kinds of dances and art forms were created to serve people’s needs. Dances changed according to different beliefs and when people relocated from one place to another.

dancers

The Role of Dance Despite many difficulties throughout the history of Cambodia, several factors enabled dance to survive until the present day. One reason is the changing role of dance in society — dance managed to adjust itself to any period because of its beauty, value and From the earliest time, dance was believed to be a between the gods and human beings, or between heaven and earth. In the past the king, as well as the common people, offered the sacred Khmer dance as a gift to please the spirits or gods. For example, most of the classical dancers during that time were female and were required to keep themselves pure in body, mind, word, and attitude. They regarded themselves as the gods’ messengers, and because of their purity, they were able to talk to the gods — this set them apart from ordinary people. However, depending on the time and situation, dance served other purposes — it evolved from having a sacred role to having an entertaining role for the common people. Audiences loved to watch dance because of its refined, smooth movement, and the gestures that were accompanied by songs and instrumental music. With every movement, the dancers made their audience feel as though they were in heaven and it left them with a sense of peace and serenity. Beyond the beautiful and perfect movements of the dancer, the spirit of the Khmer people was revealed. Thus, at that time, dance was regarded as a valuable and important attribute of national identity. Much later, when dance was brought into the schools, it yet another role. People learned dance at school as a subject and were able to pursue a career in dance and earn a living through it as a profession. This current role is an important development

importance. conduit

beautiful

assumed

CheyChankethya

in the evolution of dance in Cambodia and a reason why it is today.

sustainable

Learning Dance Traditionally, Cambodian dances were passed on from one person to the next — there were no formal classes or schools for the teaching and learning of dance. Moreover, it may not have had a clear structure of movement or gestures because in the people danced within a ceremonial context. They chose simple movements that enabled the dancers to move easily to the rhythm of the music. Therefore, the teaching and learning process happened in a very simple way, probably through family groups transferring the dance to each other. However, following the influences from Indian court dance (possibly as early as the eighth century), a clear structure of movement was established in Cambodian dance. From the fifth to the nineteenth centuries, dance was very popular amongst the royal families and dignitaries. During this period dance had an intimate association with the royal palace because it was the place where religion was highly respected. Dance was not seen by the common people but only by the king, who was considered a god, and some other important people who worked for him. Dance and the dancers were regarded as the property of the king, which meant that dance could only be taught and learned within the palace compounds. In addition, temples were also places where dance could be performed for religious purposes. Not everyone was able to watch or participate in dance. Usually dancers were members of the royal family, the king’s servants or girls from elite families. It seemed to be impossible for dance to extend outside of the great wall of the royal palace. However, this closed gate was opened in 1431 AD when the Angkorian Empire collapsed under siege from Thai invaders. Dance was then brought to different parts of the country by the palace dancers. Some dancers stayed with the royal family while others spent their life with different government officials, the pagoda or a community. Dance during this period not only belonged exclusively to the king, but also to anyone who wished to assemble their own troupe of dancers. However, in the nineteenth century, during the reign of King Ang Doung, once again there was a dance troupe at the royal palace. The dancers lived a secluded life inside the palace walls, practicing daily and performing for the king. They usually

beginning,

performed for religious purposes or for royal occasions such as coronations, weddings and important events. Dancers were normally the wives of the king, his relatives or servants — no one outside of the palace was allowed to learn dance and to perform with this troupe. However, there were also instances of court dignitaries who

supported dance troupes. For example, in the early 1800s the Governor of Battambang province reportedly had both male and female dance troupes to serve his family needs. He usually himself by watching dance or listening to the music of his own troupe. On special occasions, he also allowed the people in the province to enjoy the performances; however, similar to the royal palace troupe, the Governor’s dance troupe did not allow outsiders to learn dance or perform in this group — only his relatives and servants could learn and perform dance. Apart from the royal palace and family compounds, pagodas were also places where dance could be taught. For Cambodians, pagodas have been the places where religion, culture and tradition are strongly embraced by the people. Unlike the royal palace, the pagoda provides an equal opportunity for everyone to learn and practice their religious beliefs as well as learn about their culture; pagodas had their own dance troupes. Through the of the monks, informal dance classes were conducted at the pagoda for those who wished to dance for the troupe, especially people who lived in the community nearby. They trained only when they had free time or when the pagoda needed them to perform. Currently there are only a few of these pagoda classes in operation as they are now facing many problems, for instance, lack of financial support. Although audiences could see dance more than before, there were comparatively few opportunities for anyone to learn to dance. Everywhere seemed to be closed to people who did not belong to an important family or community; despite this, some indigenous communities created and taught dance amongst themselves. Thus, we can see that the teaching and transforming process happened just within a particular group of people who had a close relationship with each other. For example, from parents to children, from a boss to a servant or across people who shared the same compound — but less from a teacher to a student. As a result, although dance occurred throughout the country, there was neither accurate teaching nor documentation of it. Traditionally,

entertained

support

Cambodian people preferred to teach one another by telling or showing the gestures and movements without consulting written documents. However, in retrospect, if there had been written documents, they would probably have vanished during the war, been stolen or hidden away. Through the tradition of transmitting it orally and physically from generation to generation, dance almost disappeared on a few occasions throughout our history.

Dance Institutions As previously stated, schools for dance and the arts have been in Cambodia since a long time. However, the common people were not aware of this type of dance training because it occurred in a the royal palace or in a community setting without a formal or standards that people could learn — so this was not considered a ‘school’. For example, in the past, the kings always had their own troupe of dancers who learned and rehearsed in the palace but since they did not use a curriculum or understand that they were training to be dancers, they did not realize they were actually attending a ‘school’. According to Georges Maspero,2 who published a photograph of a dance rehearsal at the palace Chanchhaya dance hall showing a dozen dancers being trained, one can conclude that the palace school was established a long time ago. However, it was not regarded as a school because not everyone was allowed to attend the classes, it did not have a formal curriculum and it belonged to the king. During the period of French colonization (1863–1953), almost everything changed. In 1919, the idea of having a Fine Arts school had begun to emerge. There were many reasons for these changes and they affected all aspects of life in Cambodia; central to this was the introduction of modern administrative reforms. During this era, the power and wealth of the king diminished and this caused things to progress in a different way; for instance, the palace dance troupe became weak and unsustainable at the royal palace. In 1927, after completing his coronation ceremony, King Sisowath Monivong signed an agreement with the French to transfer the royal dancers to the authority of L’ecole des BeauxArts. He accepted this option as the only way of saving the troupe,

curriculum

2 Georges Maspero, Un Empire Colonial Français: l’Indochine, vol. 1, Paris: G.Van Oest, 1929.

also noting that the current method of teaching by transference could jeopardize the future of the dance. So evolved the notion of a school. L’ecole des Beaux-Arts was founded in 1919 with the mission of reinvigorating some of Cambodia’s fine arts and crafts. It was also a precursor to the conservatory of performing arts. In 1964, the Universite Royale des Beaux-Arts was opened. Its mission was to foster indigenous scholarship in the arts. Many different kinds of dance and art forms were brought in from the to be studied at the school, to be re-choreographed or rearranged without losing their original attributes before being performed for the public. Furthermore, dance was considered as a subject in the curriculum. The school was as the central place where dance could be preserved, and through the school’s efforts, dance was promoted to national and international communities. A formal school curriculum was set, classes were conducted regularly and the school gate seemed to be open for everyone in the country from diverse levels of society. In the morning, students were required to attend dance classes while in the afternoon they had to study general knowledge. The teachers were locally educated people; however, for classical dance, the masters continued to be supported by the royal palace. During this new reformation period, the school had a strong alliance with the government, the French authorities and the royal palace. Each of them supported the school in different ways. For instance, despite the school being open, the classical and mask dance forms were learned at the palace under the supervision of Queen Kossomak, while folk dance classes were conducted at the school outside the palace. Remarkably, the Queen was the one who was aware of the dangers of not being able to sustain dance, especially the classical dance form. She was an important person in Khmer dance history and devoted herself to preserving and developing classical dance after King Aug Duong’s reign. By combining with the other dancers from King Sisowath’s reign, the Queen was able to form a troupe of classical dancers and later provide classical dance classes in the palace compound. In 1965 there were 30 classical dance masters and 500 students recruited from all social classes. Since it was established, the Universite Royale des Beaux-Arts was very successful in producing high

provinces eventually regarded technique

quality artists to work in the arts industry in Cambodia. Besides this, the school also played an important role in compiling and books about the art forms; these were available to the students for their research. With the supervision of the Queen and the quality of the school itself, dance managed to re-emerge and its popularity extended over a huge territory. However, something seemed to change after the coup in 1970 led by Lon Nol.3 The school once again changed its name, this time to the University of Fine Arts. At first, everything worked as usual from the beginning of the new government, but later all the school palace teachers and students were moved to the school and classes were no longer taught at the palace. In 1975, the school was closed and abandoned completely when the Pol Pot regime came to power in Phnom Penh. Immediately the country was torn apart by the war. There were no more dance masters or dancers in the dance hall at the royal palace. Similar to other schools in Cambodia, the university remained quiet and training was abandoned. Dancers had no time to practice their dance sequences or to perform on stage — they were required to work tirelessly in the heat doing jobs that were very different from their dance training. Living in fear and starvation, the dancers and dance masters had no time to think about dance. During the regime, there was no dance education in Cambodia. Millions of welleducated people were killed including dancers; many also died of disease and starvation.

documents

Royal University of Fine Arts At the end of the Pol Pot regime, the corps de ballet was reinstated under the direction of the senior masters who had survived the Khmer Rouge period and the school was reopened in 1980. It was named the School of Fine Arts — this institution was regarded as a secondary school. There were five skill-based schools of the arts including the plastic arts, drama, dance, circus, and the school of music. In 1988, it was named the University of Fine Arts and in 1993, following the restoration of the monarchy, ‘Royal’ was added, now making it the Royal University of Fine Arts (RUFA).

3 This was the 1970 coup whereby Prince Norodom Sihanouk lost his power as the Head of State. Subsequently, Prime Minister Lon Nol became Head of State for the new Khmer Republic (République Khmère) government.

Despite many difficulties, the university is open to all applicants who would like to aspire to a profession in the arts. Anyone with an interest can apply to the school to study. There were five different faculties — the faculty of architecture and urbanism, archaeology, fine arts, music, and choreographic arts. However, the faculty of music and choreographic arts was closed down for a period due to the shortage of instructors, and was reopened in 1999. In 2000, RUFA was accredited as a public institution that allowed both scholarship and fee-paying students to attend classes. In order to provide students with a quality learning experience, RUFA often arranges exchange within local and international communities so that they can share and learn from one another. Numerous masters and students have been sent both abroad and to different provinces in the country to study and undertake research and bring back knowledge for themselves as well as for the benefit of RUFA. As one of the most important educational institutions in the kingdom, RUFA has been supported by different partners in order to improve its educational standards as well as to preserve Khmer traditional culture. Under the administration of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, RUFA has an obligation to develop professional dancers, arts managers, resource personnel, and art advocates who will be able to work at the ministry as civil servants after finishing their study. Once again, RUFA has a strong relationship with the Royal Palace where the emphasis is on preserving and maintaining traditional culture. Many of the royal family have devoted themselves to the of the traditional Khmer arts such as King Aung Duong, the king’s mother Sisowath Neary Roth, HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi and many others. Although the school has already been functioning with a clear curriculum in place, RUFA has a responsibility to work carefully on behalf of the entire nation to preserve and revitalize its Research and documentation of the old materials that were facing extinction became possible with sponsorship from the Rockefeller-funded Mentorship Program through the Asian Council. Through this programme, RUFA was not only able to rearrange the old dances that were kept alive in the old masters’ memory, but also to document many of the art forms, especially classical dance. These are now valuable resources for teaching and learning at the school.

programmes

members preservation culture. Cultural

Performers:

Preah Anurudh Preah Neang Ossa Chey Chankethya (centre) with dancers from the Secondary School of Fine Arts (2008) Photographer: Teng Somongkol

Faculty of Choreographic Arts At present, RUFA is facing new challenges. In accordance with the mission of preservation, while keeping pace with current expectations and standards, the Faculty of Choreographic Arts was reopened in 1999. The faculty focuses on giving students a new kind of knowledge that is different from what they have learned in the school of dance where the focus is on following the masters’ footsteps and studying the old traditional masterpieces. In contrast, the students learn to choreograph new pieces of dance, or any of the other art forms, through their basic skills in dance, theatre or circus. Throughout the learning process, students can generate their own ideas and explore their personal creativity. The Faculty of Choreographic Arts aims to teach their students the notion of creating and arranging their own works while having a strong sense of responsibility and a professional work ethic. Although the term ‘choreographic’ is a new concept for the artists, it has created a lot of interest amongst the younger generation at RUFA.

educational

traditional Secondary School of Fine Arts

This school used to be under the same roof as RUFA; however, in 2006, it was renamed the Secondary School of Fine Arts and was officially given certified independence from RUFA. The school has five different departments — dance, music, theatre, circus, and the fine arts. Initially there were not many students but the numbers have increased over time. Children in the age group six to 13 are selected to attend to study three different dance forms according to their appearance and ability. They have to spend nine years in order to complete their academic training; this includes two major examinations. Unlike the Faculty of Choreographic Arts, the Secondary School of Fine Arts trains students to become teachers of the traditional dances or professional dancers. They are required to learn all the basic techniques and theory; in they are taught only the dances and dance stories that were choreographed a long time ago. Because it is the only place where the arts can be professionally taught, the Secondary School of Fine Arts plays an important role

addition,

in maintaining the traditional culture that was almost destroyed and had disappeared from the view of its own people and society during the previous regime. Today, male and female students studying at the Secondary School of Fine Arts complete a full that secures the future for their traditional culture. After diligent work for more than two decades, many graduates from the school perpetuate the traditional culture for the next generation. Some of them teach in schools, some work at the Department of Performing Arts, while the rest join different groups and arts associations.

education

Dance Training Although a clear curriculum is adhered to in the school, modern teaching methods are not highly regarded in a system where traditional methods still prevail and are practiced even today. Both the teachers and students adopt the traditional way of learning and transferring knowledge. Everyday, students spend their morning practicing and rehearsing with their masters who hold a stick that they use to beat the music rhythms, sometimes to correct students as well. Training with a high respect for their masters, the students remain silent when they are being corrected and restart their dance sequences as their masters tell them to. They have to accomplish all the steps and movements that their masters show them. Furthermore, after finishing their school day, students usually have other private classes at their masters’ houses. These afterschool classes are an important time for students to receive training with their masters; these are generally held after finishing the morning classes. While the school classes give general training to many students, it is in the private classes with their masters that they are able to improve their technique. Similarly, the teachers practice the same way to the students. Normally, at school, dance masters transfer their knowledge to all the equally, but they will teach separately someone whom they want to be a principal dancer or someone who wishes to learn specifically from them. These private classes are free, but students usually bring food, fruit or a gift to their respected masters. The knowledge and experience that each master passes on to her/his students from generation to generation comes from many years

fulltime

students

of study, practice and self-discovery rather than through studying books or other teaching materials. ‘Memory-based’ teaching has definitely been the most important method that the masters apply to their teaching. In this respect, Cambodian dance is unique.

education

Dance Institutions — A New Challenge Although the country is now peaceful and developing, dance still faces an uncertain future. As the era of new technology arrives, traditional culture is threatened by the globalization of new culture that has a powerful influence on the young, curious and generation of the nation. Everyone seems to be concerned but little effort is being made to address the issue. Although RUFA and the Secondary School of Fine Arts are considered the most important places for arts training and preservation, they are not in a position to stem the flow of new culture. At present, the Secondary School of Fine Arts is already experiencing difficulties with the number of student enrolments decreasing year by year — this is a critical situation. Coupled with this, the teaching standard is not as it was — the shortage of documents, equipment and teaching recourses are some of the obstacles. Most teachers prefer to teach students through their own experiences rather than through written texts, resulting in disagreements amongst them. The new school location that is more remote is also a reason that prevents students from attending classes. Personal safety issues and other factors account for a number of students who drop out of the school. The lack of group solidarity is also a school problem. In the dance department there are professors who are highly trained in technique, but they are not always able to work together to goals, negotiate solutions and discuss problems. Low salaries for the teachers and their low status in society means that they must try to find other work to maintain their income to support themselves, affecting their teaching, the school and the students and impeding the school’s progress, adding to the range of current problems. Besides these issues, the poor standard of curriculum is a Unaware of the working environment in today’s society, the schools do not adequately prepare their students for the of the outside world. Students, especially those in the

susceptible

accomplish

concern. challenges

Faculty of Choreographic Arts and the dance department, find it difficult to find work and earn money to support themselves. With fewer public performance opportunities and a lack of support in society, traditional culture, as well as RUFA and the Secondary School of Fine Arts, are faced with the danger of importance. Apart from some grants that are provided by foreign organizations, for example LINC, Arts Network Asia, Amrita Performing Arts, the French Cultural Centre, and some sponsors from the government, it seems difficult to get funds to support dance works and the dancers. Many are forced to leave their jobs and students drop out of school because of the uncertain future. From my observation, many of the problems that the schools are currently encountering are to do with the administration and the objectives that enable the staff and students to achieve their goals. Although the schools aim to raise their standards and the quality of teaching each year, they are hampered by the lack of qualified administrative staff that can assist them in achieving these goals. Most of the plans and projects cannot be implemented because the schools do not have the skills to proceed and some potentially good projects have thus failed. To conclude, because of the recent rapid economic many countries seem to lose their sense of self-appreciation and value. In this critical uphill battle to maintain traditional in the face of the increasingly homogenous global everyone has to undertake the mission of nurturing and preserving the culture to ensure a bright future. The schools, should work extremely hard to control the fast flow of new culture while a new administrative strategy is urgently needed to sustain the traditional culture. A precise mission, strong and high solidarity amongst the arts communities will empower the schools to achieve their goals. It is evident that the schools have worked successfully to a new generation of dancers as ‘cultural preservers’. Besides this, what they have to focus on is carrying these traditions into the future and to prevent dance from becoming obsolete in the modern era. The primary concern is for the schools to keep so that they can adapt to modern society — they should pay particular attention to this as they continue to evolve. How-

diminished

development, culture community, especially,

commitment

produce

developing

ever, innovation has to take place with respect to the traditions and occur in a context where both the past and the present can coexist. Chey Chankethya started her classical dance training at the age of six and obtained her BA in choreographic arts from the Royal University of Fine Arts in 2005. She also holds a BA degree in English from the Royal University of Phnom Penh. As one of the top classical dancers, she has had opportunities to perform nationally and internationally for the Cambodian Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, such as ‘Millennium 2000’ at the Angkor Wat Exposition in 2006. From 2001–2005, she toured throughout Europe and Asia with the ASEAN Dance production Realizing Rama. Her choreographic works, both classical and contemporary, include Dilemma (2002), Falling in Love (2003), Golden Deer (2004), Preah Khan Reach (2005) and Water and Thunder (2006). In 2006, she was awarded a three-month arts fellowship at UCLA, California and in 2007, she participated in the Young Choreographer and Composer Workshop; a four-week training programme in Surabaya. Currently, Kethya teaches classical dance at the Secondary School of Fine Arts and is the leader of Trey Visay (Compass), a dance ensemble consisting of nine young Cambodian dancers that aims to explore and create contemporary dance.

management

4 Don't Even Think About Having Me Toni Shapiro-Phim Reab: You know that I’ve loved you since you were young; I’m not making this up. Seda, exquisite woman. You are the one. Neang Seda: You ogre! Don’t even think about having me. Reab: [Then] I’ll cut off your head and set it on a stick. — From the Reamker, the Khmer version of the Ramayana

White-haired Soth Sam-on lay virtually motionless, emaciated and weak on a metal-framed bed, her back and head slightly raised. Her granddaughter had placed a garland of fragrant jasmine buds atop her pillow because ‘Grandmother loves them’. The granddaughter and other family members were in her austere hospital room keeping vigil. Soth Am-on, in her late 70s, had been ill for some time. Sight remaining in only one eye, she had been admitted to the hospital that morning: her kidneys were failing. A brilliant and acclaimed interpreter of the ogre role in mid-twentieth century royal dance ensemble, Soth Sam-on was one among those who moulded new generations of following the devastation of the Khmer Rouge years. Imparting a bold presence on stage and in rehearsals for decades — and generating fear in her students with her uncompromising for perfection — she now depended on others to help her so much as to turn onto her side. On that muggy September 2008 evening, one of Sam-on’s prized students went to visit her at the hospital. The student announced

Cambodia’s performers

demands

Don’t Even Think About Having Me

her arrival by gently touching the soft, cool skin of her teacher’s arm. Sam-on closed her eyes. Then, with a slow, concerted effort, she lifted her hands to form the gesture of salutation and to instruct, in a whisper: ‘Always remember to honour Lok Ta Eysey’ (the supreme spirit/teacher of the arts). Her student, long a dance teacher in her own right, discreetly pulled a worn notebook out of her black bag and sat down on the edge of the bed. She called Samon’s granddaughter — also a dancer — to her side. She pointed to some handwritten lines of text, and the two of them began to sing the poetic verse that accompanies dance performances of the Reamker. Soth Sam-on’s countenance shifted. All concentration she could muster went to her hands as first one, then the other, rose ever so slightly, forming muted versions of the precise gestural she had mastered over the course of more than six decades of dancing. Choking back tears, the two younger women began to sing a passage portraying the ogre Reab’s (Ravana’s) seduction of Neang Seda (Princess Sita); Sam-on’s hands graced the air. In this passage, Reab is infuriated by Neang Seda’s rejection of his advances, and fills the stage with a sense of power and foreboding. With all of his being — curved fangs and thick, wavy eyebrows protruding from a mask that covers the entire face and head, high-gaited steps, and expansive arm movements — Reab claims domination of all in his wake, including the princess. Sam-on had been renowned for her portrayal of Reab. In her hospital bed, so fragile and with little control over much of her body, she found a power in her hands that bespoke her life’s focus. Long ago, she had been presented with a tormenting choice: her husband demanded that she, married, and already a mother, choose between dance and him. She chose her art, but this was a choice she had never solicited. She spent the past decades without a partner at home, risking both the opprobrium of a society that devalues unmarried women, and the separation of her children from their father. A proud woman, she expressed entitlement to nothing, yet insisted upon a complete devotion to learning and sustaining the dance tradition on her part as well as that of others. This is a source of her dignity, a dignity she was striving to maintain that night even as her body was succumbing to forces beyond her command.

vocabulary

ToniShapiro-Phim

This article highlights one element of the situation of female classical dancers in contemporary Cambodia. Like Sam-on, many dancers encounter tension between the aspiration to dance and the forming and nurturing of a family, and, in so struggling, assaults to their dignity. Women the world over struggle with conflicting claims to their time, expertise, bodies, and love. Here, I aim to offer insights into the stark reality of the lives of Cambodia’s urban artists — women with great physical and strength who, in performance, exude grace and control as they depict, for the most part, celestial beings and mythologized royalty and who, at home and in society at large, face severe and repression, including pervasive gender violence. Dancers with or without powerful patrons (a member of the royal family, a teacher in a position to pull strings, staff of local and non-governmental agencies who offer them special training and exchange opportunities, for instance) have to contend with societal and familial expectations and pressures that may situate them between untenable alternatives. I continue this article by placing these clashing forces in a twenty-first century context with a focus on violations of spirit and desire as well as physical assaults, and on the reclamation of one's dignity. I first examine events following the forced marriage of a

experience

spiritual restrictions

international

young

woman to a man

three decades her senior, and the

condemnation of dance the of subsequent familial strife. as

source

I then look at an even younger dancer, as yet unaware of all the doors possibly open to her, and of all the obstacles to walking through them.

Preah Ream: I am picking mongkut, lomut and mien [fruits] to give to my wife who is as fine as a divine being. — From the Reamker

Kalyann was three months shy of her 17th birthday in the spring of 2008 when she married 50-year-old Chrouk against her will. Arranged through a relative, the marriage appeared to a number of family members to signal a great likelihood of wealth in the near future. After all, though born and raised in Cambodia, this Khmer man had a European passport, a seeming gold mine to

Soth Sam-on performing as Reab in the 1960s Photo courtesy Soth Sam-on

Kalyann’s impoverished single mother and her extended family. He boasted about his multiple houses and lucrative businesses, promising to give all the wedding gifts (almost exclusively offered in the form of US dollars, as is now the custom in urban Cambodia) to the bride’s family. The wedding money never reached the hands of Kalyann’s mother. Kalyann and her mother moved from their shack on a small crowded street on the outskirts of Phnom Penh, Cambodia’s capital, to his more central shop–house, but there was no sign of any other (larger, more comfortable) dwelling. They learned of only one small business venture of Chrouk’s when he insisted that Kalyann stop dancing, her chosen profession, and come to work as his bookkeeper. She was a highly classical dancer who had already been on performance tours to North America and Europe. She couldn’t use a computer very well, and didn’t know the first thing about creating and maintaining financial records. Some close to Kalyann have stated that Chrouk assumed his bride would acquiesce to his every wish after she had lost her virginity. Her potential value to others erased, she’d have no choice but to stay by his side. When she asked to keep dancing, he cursed her. ‘Dancers think their pussies are covered in gold. But dancers are like prostitutes,’ he claimed. ‘Anybody can have them,’ since they display themselves for all to see. Chrouk had raped Kalyann on their wedding night. He berated her at every turn because she was a dancer and still wanted to practice and perform, because she wasn’t learning his trade enough to manage the finances, and because she wouldn’t even feign affection toward him. After two months with this man, Kalyann could endure no more. She asked for a divorce. When she went to gather her things, he lashed out. He wouldn’t let her leave him. If she tried, he’d kill her, her mother and himself, he threatened. As she walked away, he attempted to strangle her. She was able to pull free and run out of the house. She called one of her dance teachers who picked up Kalyann and her mother and drove them home. Attempts to report the incident to the police were unsuccessful, but a counsellor at a women’s crisis centre did offer advice about preserving her safety and filing for divorce. Countering all Kalyann’s mother contacted Chrouk to inform him about the impending divorce, returning control back to Chrouk.

accomplished

quickly

recommendations,

No papers were filed. Within a couple of weeks, Chrouk had Kalyann’s mother that her daughter should move back in with him. They were married, after all. If only she had shown some affection toward him, none of this would have happened. The mother publicly repeated this refrain, as if it were her belief too. Kalyann and her mother showed up at a dance rehearsal to inform the teacher that Kalyann would be returning to her husband, and that she would no longer be dancing. Her mother said she was certain that there must be some black magic in the dance world that had brought this trouble upon the family. Eloquently, passionately, angrily, and through tears, the teacher implored all the dancers and musicians present to witness what was happening to this young woman, this artist — their student, their colleague. She recounted all she had learned about the selling of Kalyann’s potential future happiness and fulfillment for the sake of the possibility of diamond rings (mentioned by Kalyann’s mother). ‘I can train another dancer. But it pains me to see a walk away from this art and into the home of a man she does not love, a man with whom she does not want to share her life.’ It was a radical step to engage all the artists in this encounter, as was Kalyann’s calling of and confiding in her teacher in the first place. Customarily, in Cambodia, a family’s ‘dirty laundry’ must not be aired publicly. Kalyann spoke too. She spoke of her love of this dance and her love of movement. She spoke of her heartache at having to return to a man she could not love. And she spoke of not wanting to dishonour those who had made this choice for her. Then she walked away with her mother. She called her dance teacher later that night. Her mother had locked her inside her home and she wanted out. On stage, even when performing the role of an ogre, Cambodia’s female artists dance in the service of stories about the complex relationships of good and evil, of honesty, loyalty, treachery, and greed. Those talented enough (or connected enough to people in positions of power) perform in prestigious ceremonies and on overseas tours for which they are paid well. But their on Cambodian and world stages in glimmering brocades and embroidered velvet gives little hint of what many encounter at home.

convinced

dancer

community

appearance

Kalyann’s experience is, tragically, not unique. The imbalance in gender relations is reinforced by a baneful power structure in which often considerably older men who hold positions of governmental or economic authority marry young Cambodian women, only to abandon them a few years later for another Families sometimes encourage such a union, assuming it will be permanent, as they see the marriage of their daughters as the way out of financial distress. The responsibility for ensuring riches for an extended family — no matter how unrealistic this may be — thus rests on the shoulders of young women and girls, keeping them from pursuing their own dreams and their own love. There have been cases in which the men keep the children from their mothers following a separation or divorce. Men may beat their wives with impunity. Husbands routinely visit prostitutes: those who contract HIV spread it to their wives whose babies are then infected. Many women go through this with no support system. Domestic violence, rape, sexual abuse, and trafficking are all aspects of gender-based violence in Cambodia.1 Cambodian girls and women are burdened with the that their behaviour can make or break the reputation of their family or bring them bad or good luck, with family honour being a paramount concern in society at large. Girls are watched and judged by family members and the broader community, and are expected to conform to tenets passed down for generations through the poetic recitation of ‘rules for girls’ learned in school. These didactic codes include imperatives related to ways of walking, talking, sitting, interacting with others, and so on. A wife of virtue subordinates herself to her husband, for example. Infractions can

conquest.

understanding

1 Domestic violence is one of the major factors contributing to gender inequality in Cambodia. While there are no accurate figures on victims of domestic violence, the Cambodian Demographic and Health Survey 2000 found that 23 per cent of women aged 15–49 who had ever been married had experienced violence in their families. The domestic violence report, prepared by the Ministry of Women’s Affairs (MOWA), surveyed 3,000 people in 13 provinces on attitudes relating to domestic violence. Of all respondents surveyed, 80 per cent of the women said they knew a husband who used physical violence with his wife and 25 per cent of the women said their husbands had been physically violent toward them (LICADHO, Violence Against Women in Cambodia, January 2006, p. 2, http://www.licadho-cambodia. org/reports/files/77LICADHOReportViolenceAgainstWomen05.pdf ).

lead to scorn.2 The complications of contemporary life make it all the more problematic to maintain a spotless name. It is often the case in Cambodia that those with perceived lesser authority are held responsible for their own misfortune, as was Kalyann when her mother openly chastised her for not being affectionate to Chrouk so as to stave off his disappointment and subsequent brutality, deepening the assault to her dignity. Further, Kalyann, just at the point of self-awakening, was weighed down with decisions that were made for her, decisions presented with no room for discussion or compromise, or dissent. For the sake of perceived monetary gain, she was unceremoniously wrenched from what she had found and developed on her own — an medium, a career and a community. In Kalyann’s story, it was that community of dancers, led by their teacher, who spoke up and broke the silence imposed and expected by societal norms, a silence that keeps the more vulnerable in cycles of suffering. By 9 pm or so on the night of 11 September 2008, a few hours after her mother had locked Kalyann inside, the situation seemed to have been resolved. With the intervention of the dance teacher and some friends from the dance world, Kalyann saw her divorced parents come together to agree that they had been wrong about their daughter’s plight. She would file for divorce on her own. By the next day, Kalyann was back dancing. She returned on a day when they were practicing the Reamker. She was selected to dance the role of Preah Ream (Prince Rama). She graced the floor with her characteristic of fluidity and strength. Holding her weight centred and low, she moved through space with a calmness of spirit that comes from a certain level of mastery of her art: the control of each posture and step, as well as of the energy that extends to and beyond her extremities — erect head, curled back fingers and flexed toes. As Preah Ream leads the princess and Preah Leak (Laksmana, his brother) through the forest, he exudes an air of confidence and hope, pausing momentarily with his right arm raised to shoulder height, elbow bent, bow in hand, the left arm outstretched,

expressive

combination

2 See Judy Ledgerwood, ‘Changing Khmer Conceptions of Gender: Women, Stories, and the Social Order’, PhD dissertation, Cornell University, 1990, regarding attitudes and behaviour towards women among Cambodians.

signalling his preparation to select delectable fruit for his love. As Kalyann did the same, she was the brave prince who would, later in the story, be tricked by Reab, and lose what he loved most, his precious Neang Seda. Only through a complex series of battles and some magic does Preah Ream reunite with Neang Seda. While Kalyann’s peers hope that she has found shelter, contentment and inspiration now that she is reunited with the dance and is no longer within reach of Chrouk, her parents have arranged for an escort for their daughter to and from rehearsals until they feel more secure about her safety.3

Neang Seda: Preah Ream,you are my life. I've lostyou completely. Why haven't come to rescue me ? We'll probably never see each other again. Before I die,

you

I just want to

see

you

one

last time.

— From the Reamker

Vanny sits with back erect, legs folded under her to one side. Wearing a fitted, short-sleeved, sequined dance shirt and a kben (a three-metre long piece of fabric wrapped around the waist then twisted and pulled through the legs to form pantaloons), she watches a rehearsal of the Reamker. It is a scene in which Neang Seda laments her plight. The princess, kidnapped and brought to another kingdom, rests on a low platform, and raises her left hand, thumb and index finger touching her forehead, as she slowly rotates her head in a slight figure-eight pattern, signifying her worry and sadness. Vanny, only 14 years old, is not at a point, yet, where she is ready to study this demanding role. But she observes intently from the side of the practice area, her level of concentration intense. What she doesn’t realize is that within this drama aspects of the story of women in Cambodia are revealed: refinement, love and loyalty are pitted against violence and mistrust. When Ream’s army

3 In 1999, Piseth Pilika, renowned classical dancer and movie star, was gunned down in Phnom Penh in broad daylight, assassinated, people assume, because of an affair with a high-level government official. The gunman and anyone else responsible for orchestrating her murder have never been found.

rescues Neang Seda, Preah Ream questions her faithfulness to him, because she has been held in another male’s realm. She, who was kidnapped, is forced to prove that her husband is mistaken. Even then, he doesn’t believe her. If certain things don’t change, Vanny might face the same kinds of suspicions and expectations that Neang Seda did, and that the dancers she is watching now do, too. Vanny lives in a small town in the province of Kandal, just outside of Phnom Penh. Friends had told her about a ‘place where people are dancing’ nearby. One day she rode her bicycle there. She has been coming regularly to watch rehearsals of, and to practice alongside, the Khmer Arts Ensemble five days a week for the six months since she learned of its existence. When she is in school, she bikes the 20 or so minutes out to the dance compound for part of the day. (Cambodian public schools are in session just half a day, with some students studying in the morning, and others in the afternoon.) When she is on vacation (in August and September, for example), she is there full time. Khmer Arts is not a school; all dancers and musicians associated with this centre for classical dance are professional employees, most of them graduates of Cambodia’s National School of the Arts or the Royal University of Fine Arts. But this teenager felt compelled enough by the prospect of moving alongside these strong, supple women to ask the artistic director if she, a beginner, could follow behind the others. Her request was granted. After six months, she had committed the short version of the series of basic gestures and movements to corporeal memory, and is working on the long version. ‘Classical dance honours Khmer culture and besides, I’ve always loved it’, she explains. She’d seen the dance on television and at some national celebrations when her parents took her to the capital city. ‘It’s beautiful’, she says. Just as a character sings in the Broadway musical, A Chorus Line, about young girls’ fantasies upon seeing classical ballet in the United States, ‘Everything was beautiful at the ballet …’, a sense of awe can overwhelm children who witness the grace and mythic wonder of Khmer classical dance, too. Through the aches and pains ‘of every part of my body, from my head to my toes’, Vanny has come to appreciate that beauty even more. Helping with preparations for ceremonies that pay respect to the spirits of

the dance, she is beginning to understand the sacred aspects of this art, and the importance of the relationship not only between a given teacher and her students, but also between a dancer and all those who danced before her, living or deceased. ‘The dancers here help me with everything. They encourage me. I want to be like them one day.’ Vanny is a girl on the cusp of womanhood. Daughter of a schoolteacher and a restaurant worker, she is coming of age in a family of modest means. (Teachers, who are civil servants, are paid very little.) There is a fragility to life in a country in which so many are very poor and have no safety net from family or employers— one illness, one motorcycle accident, one divorce can send people into a terrifying downward spiral. What might the future hold for Vanny if the drain and desperation of poverty do not take over her family’s life, as they have that of so many others, including Kalyann’s? If she chooses and is able to to dance, what might her possibilities include if she does not have to opt for either marriage and children or her art, but could be fulfilled by and with both, if she so desires? Might eventual marriage prospects for a poised, charismatic artist be judged for love and compatibility rather than for their potential economic or even political returns? Women in Cambodia, in the arts as well as in other fields, do break through the silencing and the patriarchy to realize their dreams, and to find professional and personal fulfilment. The fact that Vanny spends hours with dancers, and dancing, is hopeful: she herself took the initiative to request to learn this art. If the belief that options should be there for those with desire and drive could somehow be transported to society more broadly, some of the considerable barriers to fulfilment, including proscribed behavior and alternatives, would crumble. The promise of the future would lie, in part, in a woman’s choice, and her commitment. But, for most, including classical dancers, the path to such achievement is marred by a social system that rewards often ruinous and blatantly unequal gender relations. At every step of the way, women in Cambodia are vulnerable to being thwarted in their attempts for fulfilment and accomplishment. What would a Cambodia of influential, skilled, learned, and happy women,

continue

who without question or restraint command dignity both on stage and off, be like?4 Toni Shapiro-Phim is a dance ethnologist and anthropologist whose research focuses on dance and cultural/political upheaval, and gender issues, with a specialty in the arts of Cambodia. Co-author of Dance in Cambodia (1999), she received her PhD in cultural anthropology Cornell University (USA). She undertook threeyears ofdissertation research in Cambodia, and spent several years working in Cambodian and Vietnamese refugee camps before that. Her writing is included in the collection Annihilating Difference: The Anthropology of Genocide, as well as in the Encyclopedia of Asia Theatre, among other publications. She is co-editor of Dance, Human Rights and Social Justice: Dignity in Motion (2008). She has taught at the

from

Department of South

and Southeast Asian Studies at the University of and at the Department of Dance at San Jose State California, Berkeley, and was a research scholar at Yale University's Cambodian University, Genocide Program. Prior to moving back to Cambodia in August 2008

develop a dance archive and teach dance ethnology at Khmer Arts in of Takhmao, she workedfor sixyears as associate director and ethnologist at the Philadelphia Folklore Project in the US. to

the town

4 Each of these vignettes — focusing on Soth Sam-on, Kalyann and Vanny — portrays events unfolding in September 2008. Kalyann and Vanny are pseudonyms. I wish to thank Roko Kawai, Vaddey Ratner and John Shapiro for reviewing this article and offering me invaluable suggestions, and Moeun Bun Thy and Sophiline Cheam Shapiro for sharing their cultural expertise. Sophiline Cheam Shapiro is the dancer whose singing to Soth Sam-on in the hospital room so moved me that when I returned home from the hospital that evening, I reworked this chapter to open with a description of that scene. As of May 2009, when this article was in its final form, Soth Sam-on was stronger, back at home with her son. She is unable to walk on her own, but attends dance rehearsals, to listen to the music, whenever she can.

5 Rodin and the Apsara Thierry Bayle (Translated by Beatrice Byer Bayle) La danse est ailes, il s’agit d’oiseaux et des départs en l’à-jamais 1.

— Mallarmé On 1 July 1906, Armand Fallières, 2 the new President of the Republic of France, hosts the first garden party at the Elysée. This special garden party includes on the programme a show of dances interpreted ‘by the Artists of His Majesty, the King of Cambodia’. Indeed, King Sisowath I is the official guest of France. He travels with the Khmer Royal Ballet expected to perform in Paris, then at the Colonial Exhibition in Marseille, presenting, according to the vocabulary of the time, ‘exotic reconstitutions — attractions and colonial animations’, amply underscored in the book Zoos humains, De la Vénus hottentote aux reality show3. At that time, Cambodia is a French Protectorate ‘appended’ to French Indo-China — a sort of appendix with a particular status according to the administrative jargon of the colonial territories.

Cambodian

1 ‘The dance must be all wings; there must be birds, flights to the nevernever land’. 2 Elected on 18 January 1906, Mister Fallières did not leave an imperishable memory in the annals of the Third Republic. As an anecdote, one can remember that, alleging that the Republic was not the Vatican, the newcomer decided not to change any of his habits. Every morning, he took a 10 km. walk through Paris. Public Affairs could wait. 3 Under the direction of Nicolas Bancel, Pascal Blanchard, Gilles Boetsch, Eric Deroo, and Sandrine Lemaire, ed. La Découverte, 2002.

Rodin and the Apsara

Since 1884 the King does not exert any power — the solemnity conferred to his visit seems all the more absurd. Many guests crowd onto the lawn of the Elysée Palace, bordering the Champs Elysées. As an imaginary platform delineated by wooden frames, a dance stage has been arranged on the floor. A green carpet has been unravelled for the musicians. The clichés published days after in L’Illustration and Le Monde illustré attest to the success of this outdoor choreographic performance, held at the same place where the Presidents of the Republic receive in front of television cameras today the guests of the National Bastille Day on 14 July. An old man in a tailcoat with a blooming beard arrives at the front gate of the Elysée. He has come as a neighbour. His studio is situated on the rue de l’Université, in the VIIth arrondissement of Paris, just on the opposite bank of the Seine. He carries an invitation card in his hand. The patriarch is delighted to discover Cambodian dance after having already contemplated, from the Far Orient, some ‘marvellous princesses’ and a ‘little Javanese girl’ from Indonesia at the Universal Exhibition of Paris in 1889, and a Japanese performer of The Geisha and the Horseman at the Universal Exhibition of 1900. For not wearing a tie, he is denied admittance to the Palace of the Elysée. He is turned away like a dishevelled, crude sponger at an official banquet. The security staff ignores the fact that this slightly vaulted stranger with a glaring beard is a famous artist. Three years earlier he was made Commander of the Légion d’Honneur. Le Penseur (‘The Thinker’) had just been consecrated in front of the Panthéon, a monument dedicated by Napoléon to the great men of the homeland. The highest authorities of the state have been attending, in great pomp, the inauguration of this statue perched between two columns, on a block of the secular temple situated in the neighbourhood of his birth. Artworks like La Porte de l’Enfer, inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy, and Le Baiser, have extended his fame for quite some time. Public pour onto him. We are far from the time when, seized by the prodigious illusion of reality conveyed in L’Age d’Airain, one suspected him of casting a living body. A cast of a living body! In a way this perfidious attack deserved praise. His offence for of truth and life barely conformed to the neoclassic canon prevailing then. This explains why the master, in his youth,

commissions

overabundance

ThierryBayle

had failed the sculpture exam of the Ecole des Beaux-Arts three times. In the absence thereof he will succeed in the drawing examination — a poor prize of consolation. On that day of 1 July 1906 the artist fails to be admitted to the garden party of the President of the Republic. Mortified, Auguste Rodin — as it is he we are speaking of —beats a retreat. Some allude to his anger (at least one article in the International Herald Tribune published on 29 December 2006 on the occasion of the exhibition of Rodin’s drawings at the National Museum in Phnom Penh, organized for the hundredth anniversary of the visit of Sisowath I). When he related the incident, Rodin did not seem to give it too much importance. This simple episode could have turned him away from the choreographic art of the Apsara of Cambodia. Yet it was not to be. Obstinate, the great sculptor would not rest until he discovered the young performers that had come from so far. Nothing would turn him away from the formal enigma of this dance. Hence Auguste Rodin does not give up; it’s as if he was feeling the coming enchantment that would take hold of him — a near to hypnotic fascination. If he missed the garden party of the Elysée, for lack of a simple textile accessory (a band of fabric knotted around the neck), he takes his revenge, not later than 10 July, in the Bois de Boulogne at the outdoor theatre of the Pré-Catelan. A revenge placed under the sign of ‘Ecstasy’, a near to mystical rapture, which will lead him to travel hundreds of kilometres and produce an impressive amount of drawings in a few days. The sheer quantity relates enough about the exaltation of the great artist. Should we believe that the gods watched over him? As a visual artist, Rodin can only be filled with wonder by the dance, ‘a poem withdrawn from any scribe’s tool’, according to the poet Mallarmé.4 And even more so by the corporal language of the Far East rather than by Western ballet, which he judges to be too academic. On the evening of 10 July, Rodin makes his way to the ‘green theatre of the Bois de Boulogne’ to find the one who turned him down the first time, perhaps in order to be even more sought after by him. The dance from the fringes of the Colonies attracts the crème de la crème of Paris. Everybody talks of it. The

4 ‘Ballets’, in ‘Crayonné au théâtre’.

same is true of King Sisowath I, who is amazed by the height of the buildings and discovers the cinématographe in a living room of the Elysée. The royal personality is promenaded through Paris. The Senate and the Chamber of Deputies welcome the monarch. In those days, one does not arrive after a dozen hours of flying time. The coming of such characters from that distance is an event. It is a moment of revelation. The sculptor experiences the of his taste for antiquity and of his adoration for nature. He will say that he has ‘dedicated his whole life to the study of nature’. These visual poems reveal new features of her to him. He discovers singular gestures, an unusual vocabulary, a hypnotic syntax, unknown postures, an algebra of strong iconographical creativity. The display of this ‘animated architecture’ expands his visual landscape. While at the dusk of his career — a dusk that will extend a few more years, until his disappearance in 1917, a few months after having at last married and then buried Rose Beuret, the seamstress he had already met in 1864, as if he wanted to legitimize this relationship on the brink of the grave — the artist brings to light a new field of exploration. It strikes him with a dizzy spell. Time will be too short to penetrate the secrets revealed by this choreographic language. His drawings will allow him to capture snapshots of moving bodies not bolted into marble, but simply drafted, as if incompletion formed the true essence of his concern. On Thursday, 12 July, Rodin plays truant. He takes his pilgrim’s staff and makes his way to Avenue Malakoff, close to the Porte Maillot, along the Bois de Boulogne, where Sisowath I resides in his suite and with the Royal Ballet in a private mansion. Only a mystical glossary, the one of rapture and of delight, can express the degree of feverish excitement that has struck the artist with the silver beard, who, frenzied, scribbles some sketches of the young nymphs. And it is not over. As the company needs to return to Marseille, where it will perform as part of the Colonial Exhibition before embarking on 20 July on board the Amiral Ponty to Phnom Penh, he does not hesitate for an instant. In vain has he implored the Director of the Colonies to postpone the date of their departure. Official schedules do not lend themselves to divagations of artists. Surrounded by a verve of smoke, he boards a train to Marseille on Friday, 13 July. In the rush he left without any tools. He reaches the Phocaean City in the morning of Saturday, 14 July. Due to

conciliation

the public holiday,5 it is impossible to find an open shop. He will have to wait until the Monday, 16 July to purchase suitable tools. Anyhow, Rodin throws himself into the work with the tools at hand. The difference in the quality will be apparent in the works conserved. Without delay, Rodin makes his way to the Villa des Glycines, situated on the road of Mazargues at the Prado, where the royal delegation is hosted. On 15, 17 and 18 July he attends, captivated by the performances given at the Château d’Eau of the Grand Palais. He pursues the performers into the garden of the Villa des Glycines. His small favourites respond to the names of Soum, Yem and Sâp. He draws them a capella, without musical Touching clichés show the master at work, sitting on a bench — light-coloured trousers, dark jacket, white hat, the nose clothed in a pince-nez, scribbling on a sheet on his knees in front of small-sized dancers, immobilized during interrupted In the background, some policemen and a few curious spectators under the trees. Only the chant of birds and the chirring of the cicadas are missing. This corpus comprehends 150 pencil and graphite drawings enhanced with aquarelle and watercolours. Let’s leave it to the to talk about it. Described as an ‘apotheosis of colours’, even though one can be surprised, as I was myself at the hall of the National Museum, who accommodated Rodin’s drawings — a cold chamber especially air conditioned for the occasion by the Embassy of France in Cambodia — by their Should I dare admit a few steps away from the of Khmer art exposed in the halls of the Museum, among them a sublime Vishnu and a delicate Harihara in sandstone from the seventh century, that this exhibition disappointed me? The community of art historians and curators will come down on me. I will be charged with the crime of lese-majesty. Auguste Rodin himself seemed to admit the failure of his enterprise when he wrote to Rainer Maria Rilke, the poet and incidentally former devoted secretary, that despite an impetuous desire, he proved of penetrating the essence of a profound and mysterious dance. Imbued with an eighteenth century style, his interpretations were perhaps inappropriate. Indeed, he added, the Cambodian

background.

movements.

experts exhibition clumsiness. masterpieces

incapable

5 In those days public holidays were sacred. Nobody spoke of ‘working more to earn more’ — one of the greatest political lies.

dancers evolved ‘beyond the beauty’ we can, or he himself was able to, grasp. To set things right and to add grist to his mill, Rodin did not intend to confer a finished touch to works whose objective was to trace the fugitive theorems of body and movement that interfere mutually. And this in an urge. To explain this graphic blaze — a parenthesis of a few frantic workdays — Rodin will say that he had felt ‘Antiquity revive’. Invoking a ‘divine sensuality’ he witnesses, dazzled as we have seen, a miraculous dialectic reconciliation of two entities: Nature and Antiquity. For a few days, the artist will have lived 3,000 years back. Thus the wrench he suffered at the departure of the Royal Ballet of Cambodia. He compared the ballerina’s embarkation to the taking flight of marvellous birds in a grey sky — the fading of paradise caught in an instant glimpse. Marcel Proust has said it better than anyone — the only paradise is paradise lost. The characters of the company that had just resuscitated antiquity carried ‘all the beauty of the world’ with them away. After several days of such tempo, leaving painful wrists, the titan ends up crumbling. The youthful over-excitement leaves him high and dry. After one week of great agitation and tension, Rodin is laid up in bed. Exhausted, he will not attend the departure of the white doves, whose wings he would have cut, he, who yet said that he would have followed them to Cairo if needed. ‘What emptiness they left,’ he sighed, regretting the beauty they took along with them of which Dostoyevsky wrongly or rightly said that it could save the world. But was it necessarily over? In order to dedicate himself to his series of sketches, enhancing them with colours, the creator of the Bourgeois de Calais cancels a trip to Belgium. The ballerinas remain with him, cast onto numerous pages brought to his studio. To the flat country that is mine,6 he prefers the shimmering the evanescent mirage of the missing — a flight of birds in the sky of July. The drawings will be displayed in Vienna, Brussels, Leipzig and elsewhere. Dazzled, Rilke will write a laudable article in the German journal Kunst und Künstler in February 1908. To his great delight, his former employer will offer him a drawing from the collection. The corpus will know a nomad destiny upon returning

dizziness,

6 Referring to a song by Jacques Brel, ‘Le plat pays’ (translator’s note).

to its source — in Phnom Penh — where the master never made it to. That is where, in January 2007, I saw these feverishly drawings in a big, windowless hall, allowing the artist to travel from the grave to the Khmer realm. The buckle was buckled. The Cambodian dancers were back home, represented in oblong-shaped frames on coloured paper, bathing like engravings in an unreal light, now that their models had turned to dust. The erotic path was evacuated a bit hastily, as if the artist of a canonical age at the time ignored the prickles of desires. One buries the old demons a bit hastily. This great womanizer who laid several of his models onto his bed, if not also his associates, the most famous being of course Camille Claudel,7 could not have remained insensitive to the feminine grace. Age dulls sensation. Does it necessarily transform the idiosyncrasy of a being? Rodin’s rapture was probably not solely platonic, even if he voluntarily accepted to be called ‘papa’ by the young dancers. This path was moved aside with the back of the hand. In the exhibition catalogue, Jacques Vilain evokes the ‘long history’ epitomizing the relationship between the artist and women. Numerous punctuated the margins of his long sentimental union with Rose, his Penelope. Equally discovered during the Colonial exhibition in Marseille, the great Japanese dancer Hanako, a former geisha named Ota Hisa, posed subsequently on various occasions for him. 8 In all likelihood, the fantasy of the Far East did not go unheeded. Rodin was, just as Picasso later, a big ‘woman-eater’. This mischievous man collected good fortune. His double residence in Meudon and in Paris must have been helpful. ‘None whatsoever’, the commissioner of the exhibition denies any sexual connotation with regard to his encounter with the Royal Ballet of Cambodia.

conceived

fashionable

mistresses

7 The stormy, sentimental relationship between the sculptor and Paul Claudel’s sister has turned into a slapstick for cinematographic and theatrical interpretations. All the tabloid ingredients were there. The glory of the time, the unrecognized genius, love, sex, folly. Whereof one can remove the wool from our eyes to reveal a mediocre piece of work that we have seen on the screen and on the stage. 8 See Rodin, ‘La fabrique du portrait’, ed. Aline Magnien, Musée Rodin, 2009, published at the occasion of the exhibition presented from 10 April to 23 August 2009.

How can one mark so precisely the boundary of sexual ‘hunting’ territory with, say, the aesthetic realm? Evidently, behind the specific, extremely codified gestures, what interests Rodin, is the body in its extreme nudity, or whatever of it finds itself revealed in the multiple figures composed by the dancers: in fact it is, beneath the textile rags and the stylized movements, a quest for nudity. Rodin truly worships the female body — his supreme religion. In this equation, dance amounts to the apotheosis of the body, hence of nudity. How can one dissociate so radically the graphic works of Eros? It is not that sensuality distinctly bursts out of Rodin’s drawings, far from it. The series of Cambodian dancers has little in common with the vein of his drawings representing women in sapphic, masturbating, obscene postures. Nothing like that here. Yet how can one explain the graphic blaze produced by this man in his 60s, the French Michaelangelo of the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries, bewitched by these young dancers coming from the distant French protectorate? Blurred poisonous charms from the Far East? Vertigo of youth? Exotic mirages? Inscrutable mystery of the human body? Secret algebra of dance? If the critics shoved the erotic path aside, should it be removed so easily altogether? Wanting to explain a dazzle by virtue of one source only is too simplistic. It is also factitious to create a distinction between, say, eroticism and choreographic calligraphy. The obscur objet du désir 9 conceals itself everywhere. The scholarly bonnet will not be able to divert us from it. Under the textile wings,10 Rodin endlessly explores the mystery of the human body and the mysterious theorem of nudity. ‘What interests me here,’ he will confess to count Kessler, ‘as in all my work, is the naked human body.’ Dance enables us to transcend the of flesh to carry them to their highest degree of plenitude. Across the stained glass windows of the costumes, blurred puddles

envelopes

9 ‘Cet obscur objet du désir’ (This gloomy object of desire), the title of an essay by Aline Magnien published in Rodin: Les figures d’Eros. Dessins et aquarelles érotiques, 1890–1917, ed. the Musée Rodin, 2007. 10 ‘La danse est ailes, il s’agit d’oiseaux et des départs en l’à-jamais,’ (The dance must be all wings; there must be birds, flights to the never-never land) writes Mallarmé. These premonitory lines summarize Rodin’s ‘final passion’, in accordance with the subheading of the catalogue Rodin and the Cambodian Dancers, His final Passion, Editions du Musée Rodin, 2006.

of colour glisten the inscrutable mystery of nudity and of

sculpture, the reconciliation of movement and immobility. It seems

like textile cloth simply hung by an invisible string on the hangers of shoulders and arms, on legs, on the transparent architecture of anatomy. In 1907, one year after the swoon of the royal doves, discussion went on about the transfer of the Musée de Luxembourg to the seminars of Saint-Sulpice church. The sculptor was offered to metamorphose into a painter and to decorate the walls with frescoes, as Michelangelo did before him in a much more famous chapel. Rodin immediately thought of the Cambodian dancers who still haunted him. He drafted some sketches for the chapel of Saint Sulpice. The Cambodian apsara were meant to dance on the inner wall. On one end, the doorway to Hell and on the other, Paradise. Through their wings, the angelic Khmer figures would have equalled the Victories of Antiquity. After years of administrative slowness — a pleonasm — the official project never saw light. After 1913 it was completely abandoned. Of the glimpse to paradise — Paradise lost — remained only a collection of drawings. Decidedly, the only paradises are paradises lost. Note: Thanks to Aline Magnien, chief curator of the Musée Rodin, for having provided me with the precious nourishment of the museum catalogue.

Thierry Bayle is the Cultural Attaché of the French Embassy in Colombia. He graduated in French Literature and Philosophy from the Sorbonne University. He has been Cultural Cooperant in Jamaica from 1983–85, a journalist, dramatic and literature critic from 1985–97, Professor of Literature from 1997–99, Inspector of Creation at the Ministry of Culture from 1999–2004, Councillor for Visual Arts in Picardie from 2004–2006, Cultural Attaché to the French Embassy in Singapore from 2006–2009. He is the author of two novels and of texts in newspapers and literary reviews. His previous publications include two novels, Le Parc de la Résidence (Editions de la Table Ronde, 1988) and Délit de vagabondage (Editions de la Table Ronde, 1993).

6 Cambodians Dancing Beyond Borders: Three Contemporary Examples 1 Pornrat Damrhung Like people elsewhere, Cambodians now regularly cross borders to learn, work and live, without abandoning their homeland. Cambodian dancers are no different. They struggle with the established institutions, repertoires and forms they know, and strive to learn and modulate their new ideas, practices and in order to create dances that can alter the place of dance in the world. While Cambodian dancers’ complex moves across the world stage are not new, they are more visible and more crucial than before. For these dancers, living beyond borders is as normal as it is necessary. More than ever, the survival of their dance depends on it. Cambodian dance is now familiar to many. It is now most crucial to create spaces for Cambodian dancers to dance beyond their borders. How do Cambodia’s dancers learn to live and work beyond their borders today? Since they are dancers, there is no single way that

ambitions

1 I have previously written about the Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants

project. It has been wonderful to see that the artists in this project continue

to walk along their unique paths toward the contemporary arts which they themselves create as a living and working artists. Their work to revitalize their art confirms the continued vitality of their art form and its spirit, questions it and seeks to make it communicate more directly with their contemporary audiences who are both local and global space.

PornratDamrhung

they learn to do this. Multiple approaches and multiple spaces are both real and needed for the future. After offering two one general and one personal, I discuss three different of Cambodians dancing beyond borders before suggesting what their work may mean for the future of their dance and dance more generally.

experiences, examples Cambodian Two Cambodian Experiences Beyond Borders

On my last flight to Cambodia from Bangkok, I sat beside a young man whose looks left me in no doubt that he was from somewhere in Southeast Asia, but whose manners and appearance left me wondering where he was from. He wore a NY Yankees baseball cap backwards and a tee-shirt under his denim shirt. After bowing, he spoke very politely in the Khmer language that I do not understand, and continued to bow his head as he spoke. When he saw that I, a Thai woman, did not understand what he said, he turned to a language we both knew. Using English to I learned that he was a Cambodian student of in Japan. Absent from Cambodia for five years, he was excited about the changes in Cambodia he noticed as he looked down while we landed. No one who has visited Cambodia in the last two decades could fail to notice that it is rapidly changing. Each time I fly into Phnom Penh, there are more villages, town homes and tall more motorbikes and more fancy cars, and many tourists and foreigners who are visiting or working there. There are more young working men and women, too. Many new buildings and international schools have been founded. In my hour-long talk with the budding engineer, I learned that he wants to find his way outside his motherland, but to eventually return to work there, albeit with a foreign firm. After completing his doctorate in engineering, he hopes to return to help Cambodia — and himself — with what he learned abroad and with what he knows of his native land. Like this young engineer-to-be, many Cambodian artists have been living beyond their borders for years. In my visits to Cambodia, I have met many artists, but from the start, they were working beyond borders. While I had seen dance performances in Cambodia, I first met Cambodian artists in 2000 — not in Phnom Penh or in Siem Reap, but at a conference of the World

communicate, engineering

buildings,

Cambodians Dancing Beyond Borders

Dance Alliance (WDA) in Singapore.2 The three classically trained Cambodian dancers I saw there could not speak to anybody except those who had travelled with them from Cambodia, but they moved us with their dance, which was as powerful as it was familiar to me. It spoke loud and clear to me. I saw in these dancers my distant cousins, and I wanted to understand them better. This experience made me realize (quite late in my life) of a culture we shared beyond words and beyond borders. It was so strange that even though we lived in neighbouring countries with a cultural heritage, I hardly knew about them here and now. Their dance was an intangible heritage, part of a world we both knew. Without words, I knew those dancers and their dance, and felt sad that I could do nothing further at the time. Operating beyond borders, my hopes to do more were raised when my Malaysian friend, Dr Zulkifli Mohamed, put me in contact with the director of the Cambodian organization Amrita Performing Arts, an American named Fred Frumberg, who had worked in America and across Europe before moving to Cambodia to help artists strengthen their dance traditions for today’s world. Before meeting Mr Frumberg, I asked my husband (who was in Boston in the United States at the time) to go to see a Cambodian dance group that Mr Frumberg was touring through the States, and I then arranged to meet Mr Frumberg later on in Bangkok through e-mail. After meeting in Thailand as he passed through Bangkok, we communicated on and off in the next few years about dance. We continued the beyond borders theme in two ways. First, Amrita Performing Arts produced a revival of the all-male Lakhaon Kaol masked dance piece in the Chaktomuk Theatre in Phnom Penh called The Battle of Weyreap that impressed me and made me want to bring the piece to Thailand. Thais knew the story by heart, and I knew the piece could be used to introduce Cambodia’s close cousin art form of Thai masked dance (also all male) to Thai audiences so that we both (Thais and Cambodians) could be reminded of how close we are.3 Mr Frumberg and

common

Cambodian

2 This project was supported before Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants sought funding, and received support from, the Prince Claus Foundation. 3 Most Thais know Cambodian masked dance, but mainly in the Lakhaon kbach boran form that was performed only by female dancers. They scarcely knew that the Lakhaon Kaol form was the male version, which was only recently revived.

I arranged for a quick tour of The Battle of Weyreap to Bangkok with Amrita Performing Arts and The Royal University of Fine Arts in the summer of 2003. For Thai audiences this project was quite successful, so a second way we continued the beyond borders theme was when Mr Frumberg and I later met at a conference in Taiwan, we began thinking about a new project that would use experimental approaches to classical Cambodian dance. 4 We planned a project that would challenge us to work through a different approach of creating traditional dance — working from the inside out — with artists familiar with the traditions they wanted to rework for the contemporary stage. We sought funding for a pair of workshops of a collaborative project between one team of Thai artists and another of classically trained artists that would develop a new work based on a traditional piece. Eventually it was called Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants. In 2005, after two years of planning, the Revitalizing project produced by Amrita Performing Arts received funding from the Prince Claus Fund. The resulting workshops generated a small experimental production that was adapted and revived several times on stage in several countries in the last few years. With the success of this workshop and several performances of the work, Mr Frumberg and I, albeit in different places and in different ways, have been interested in introducing young Cambodian artists to new approaches by using their traditional training in contemporary dance pieces. The results have been several experimental pieces that have helped classically trained Cambodian and Thai artists to create new spaces and new for their dance. The overall goal is to create new spaces for dancers and audiences alike to discover what makes classical dance a living art, beyond borders. The two examples sketched above — of the young Cambodian engineer-to-be and of the collaborative dance projects between

Cambodian

resulting

audiences

4 The first project I co-produced was with Amrita Performing Arts and the Cambodian Royal University of Fine Arts. We brought the Cambodian Lakhaon Kaol piece Chambang Weyreap (Weyreap’s Battle), which I helped to bring to perform at Chulalongkorn University in 2005 with support from the Thai Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Center of Southeast Asia Studies at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok Airways and the Jim Thompson Foundation.

Cambodian artists working for an American producer of the arts in Cambodia and some Thais — indicate the ways that Cambodian people, including its dancers, already operate on the global stage, beyond borders. While this is not new, today, many Cambodian dancers in the wider world of dance, both out of necessity as well as desire. This global participation needs to continue so that dance cannot just survive but also thrive. By meeting and working with these dancing friends, I have learned, as a Thai woman with a smattering of classical Thai dance and stronger training in Western theatre, how to interact with diverse kinds of performers and audiences and to work with a new generation of Southeast Asian artists trapped in their art forms from audiences.

performing complex phenomenon participate Cambodian contemporary

Cambodians Dancing Beyond Borders Cambodian dance, whether in its traditional or contemporary modes, lives beyond its borders in several senses, but for me its dance only exists in dancers’ distinctive bodies and hearts. Besides just appearing on stages around the world or involving dancers trained in Cambodian institutions, its dance has received funding beyond its borders. This funding has supported the revival of Cambodian performance traditions and their artists inside the country, permitting them to create programmes, and venues for the restoration and survival of their art forms. It has also brought in outside experts and artists into Cambodia to develop new institutions and organizations and to expand the repertoire of new performances for artists. Finally, this funding has helped bring Cambodian artists and pieces to audiences outside of Cambodia, allowing them to learn and to perform for others. This funding from foreign sources has, in short, supported the restoration of Cambodian dance traditions and more intense interaction with the institutions and artists outside of Cambodia, helping Cambodian dance to survive. To me, foreign support and classical forms are far from the most vital aspects of Cambodian dance; what matters, rather, are the unique bodies, hearts, spirits, and ambitions of each Cambodian dancer and each Cambodian dance ensemble. So ‘Cambodians dancing beyond borders’ means more than just receiving foreign support for classical dance or physically working beyond the

substantial

repertoires traditional

political boundaries of the Cambodian state. The central point of the phrase is indicating how artists learn to work and live alone or with others—beyond the boundaries that training, tradition and expectation have given them. For us outsiders — however outside we may be — the phrase points to how we need to learn to see Cambodian dancers beyond the exquisite classical fare audiences often expect to see from ‘Cambodian dance’, to see the unique ways that Cambodian dancers recreate, revitalize, rework, or even reject their own traditions. We have to learn from the dancers who make Cambodian dance. We have to learn to see them as unique artists in their own right. This is the best way to appreciate and respect them, their traditions and their dance. The generation-long effort since the end of the Khmer Rouge regime to ensure the survival of classical Cambodian dance will and must continue, but now we need to also follow our Cambodian dancers as they seek to revitalize their dance — beyond borders. They have been learning to work with others and to work beyond their splendid inherited art forms, learning to explore how they can connect their arts to the worlds of local and international artists and their diverse, cosmopolitan audiences. I believe that this is paramount for the survival of their art. For Cambodian dance to thrive and not just survive, these new opportunities for Cambodian dancers to see the world and to learn from many artists, works and styles onstage, in studios, rehearsal spaces and at festivals needs to continue. They have helped to revive and expand Cambodian dance beyond its borders and ensure it remains a vital part of world dance. They have helped to refresh the desires of Cambodian dancers to dance their anew, to dance outside of their traditions, or to dance with other traditions. By offering new chances for dancers to open their minds and focus on their hearts, and move their bodies in new ways, these openings across borders have helped dancers to develop new ways to communicate their inner lives outwardly. In the rest of this article, I will first discuss the general within which dance has operated in Cambodia during the last two decades or so, beginning from the state-led drive to re-establish dance traditions and, more recently, continuing with various efforts to revitalize dancers from within. Both have depended on working beyond borders. I will then examine three

Cambodian

traditions Cambodian

environment

specific examples of how Cambodia’s contemporary dance works across borders. The first example is the piece done by male trained in Lakhaon Kaol called Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants. The second example is the widening repertoire of and renewed works done by Neak Kru Sophiline Cheam Shapiro, now based in Cambodia. A final example will deal with the new Compass contemporary dance ensemble. While and not definitive, these three examples suggest a spectrum of approaches to how Cambodian dancers live and work beyond borders, and suggest that each draws on important sources and builds on important possibilities.

performers inventive

incomplete Charting the Spaces for Contemporary Cambodian Dance Beyond Borders

Most people in small mainland Southeast Asian countries like Cambodia, Thailand, Laos PDR, and Myanmar view art as new forms of ‘modern’ or even ‘Western’ art, such as new forms of ballet, jazz or modern dance. They tend to see dance as those styles or techniques that come from beyond their borders, and typically from the West. Many of them identify Western forms with modern and contemporary forms. 5 It is difficult for audiences and performers to see that what we call traditional or classical dance today is mostly a composite product assembled from divergent sources about six decades ago and is, in a sense, often more ‘modern’ than the ‘modern dance’ typically designated as such. This narrow and skewed of what is modern and contemporary with what is Western likewise ignores the many innovative living performing arts groups in Southeast Asia. Is there a better way to understand contemporary dance in Southeast Asia? National governments in mainland Southeast Asia view dance and theatre as historically deep and unchanging tools that they can use to project the identity of their art and their countries to their own people and to foreigners. The artists who work and study in the government-run schools of fine arts learn the importance of preserving art forms intact so that they could be passed down unchanged and unaltered to both the next

contemporary contemporary

identification

classical cultural

5 James R. Brandon, The Cambridge Guide to Asian Theatre, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1993.

generation and to the wider public in and outside of the country. For the government and artists in a country like Cambodia, this process was essential since it ensured the survival of their intangible artistic legacy. Such governmental efforts at preserving unchanged these recently crafted cultural forms are useful to provide a claim of cultural continuity to an imaginary national past, even as the whole complex of government, society, economy, and culture has radically transformed. More recently, many artists across Southeast Asia have felt the contradiction between the rapidly changing world in which they live and work, and over which their governments have little say or little control, and for which their disciplined and subtle artistic training has little relevance. By preserving the country’s ceremonial, classical and traditional forms, the artists are caretakers of the arts for the future, and cultural representatives of the state. This is significant for a country like Cambodia since nearly all of its artists were killed by the state a mere generation ago. As young artists who live in today’s borderless world, however, it is often difficult to serve as both cultural caretakers for the state with their traditional training and participants in a wider world of mediasaturated global cultural forms and content. Some dancers who have struggled to restore old dance forms are now seeking to revitalize their dance. Few in Western audiences are aware that the state-sponsored classical art forms also have their own contemporary quality, since they grew from the views and attitudes of an individual master and from a national need, giving them a limited role in each country. Fewer still know that today’s dancers in Cambodia have been striving to find ways to refresh or revise the forms they have mastered, to keep them alive for themselves, the next generation and new audiences. The Revitalizing project that Fred Frumberg and I initiated was one example of this. We tried to push beyond borders between countries and also to question the border of the classical form for artists and audiences. Our hope was that this would provide one approach to Cambodian dance operating beyond borders, as an experimental and highly collaborative piece for a group of like-minded artists that contribute to a new way of using training for the contemporary stage. Both the Cambodian and the Thai artists involved in the project regularly work beyond the borders of nation and tradition in order to come up with a fresh way of staging a familiar story.

remarkable

classical

Working beyond borders is not always easy. Besides the problem of communicating in words when no one understands the counterparts’ main language very well, we also had to face artistic and even political prejudice in the sensitive time of 2003. Since we believed that it was important to work through these communication and perception problems, we went beyond the old rigid borders and started to build new bonds of trust and reaching out to work with our new friends who shared a very close art and, more importantly, a close artistic sensibility. Some traditional artists in Cambodia and Thailand recognize that it is important not only to preserve the classical art forms they learned, but also to ensure the vitality of their traditions by creating new works rooted in their arts that remain meaningful to themselves and their audiences, both locally and globally. Many graceful and outstanding artists are challenged and stumble when asked to explain why they spend so much time and effort to master the classical arts they struggled to learn and to state why these arts are important in this day and age. They also often do not consider whether it is important to move their audiences today with their dance, or to engage new audiences with their dance. Cambodian artists, like others in Southeast Asia, want to show the artistic relevance of their traditions and their training to today’s world. With this as a foundation, I next turn to three examples of Cambodian performing arts visions led by artists who are working beyond borders in very different ways. Since this phenomenon is relatively new (previously the main goal was to restore old traditions, especially their forms and their repertoires) most of the artists discussed below are relatively young. They work hard to break through borders formed by their own artistic training, as well as with audiences expecting to view strict forms. They are all seeking new artistic approaches to using the techniques and ways of performing they mastered in order to integrate features of their traditional training into new work, while also reaching out to connect themselves to more global cosmopolitan audiences.

contemporary

classical Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants Across Borders

The Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants project discussed above worked beyond borders from the beginning. It was an intensive, experimental, collective, and bottom-up approach for remaking

classical dance among neighbours working across borders for small contemporary stages around the world. While not the first or only project to do so, it produced some new projects within and outside of Cambodia, and so will be discussed first. As a pilot project, it sought to develop a new approach to reworking dance and music for the contemporary stage by artists who criss-crossed national borders in mainland Southeast Asia.6 Early in 2005 in Phnom Penh, three contemporary Thai artists joined six Cambodian dancers and four musicians for a three-week workshop that resulted in the performance of a work-in-progress. The starting point of the Revitalizing project was the famous episode from the Ramayana performance version known by all participating artists which centred on the story of the monkey Machanub, who had to decide who he would fight — the great giant who had raised him from birth or the great monkey general Hanuman who had sired him. Working from this episode, the artists focused on the themes of fighting and lamentation, each of which was associated with a particular piece of music known to the Cambodian and Thai artists. 7 They sought to restructure the piece in two ways, first, by reworking the two musical pieces and second, by asking all artists to focus on inner emotion more than formal technique. In this approach, the musicians paved the way for new choreography and dance. In learning to work together from this foundation, the artists from these different countries created not just a new piece, but also a new space of mutual respect and trust that permitted them to deepen their own understanding of both traditional and contemporary work.

classical

6 This artist-based project was a privately funded project without

government support, based on a proposal drafted by Fred Frumberg of Amrita Performing Arts and myself at a conference of the World Dance Alliance in Taipei, Taiwan in 2004. Mainly funded by the Prince Claus Foundation and the Research Affairs Division at Chulalongkorn University, the project Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants included Thai artists Pichet Klunchun (facilitator and choreographer), Sinnapa Sarasas and Sanchai Uae-Silp (facilitators and music directors). The Cambodian dancers included Hang Borin, Khieu Sovannarith, Penh Chumnit, Phon Sopheap, Soeur Thavarak, and Yim Savann, with five distinguished master musicians. 7 In particular, the artists tried to express and map out a work-in-progress based on the Chert Juep (Fight) and the Smot Machanub (Machanub’s Lament) musical pieces, focusing on the internal conflicts and feelings.

Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants Performers: Dancers from the Secondary School of Fine Arts (2006) Photographer: Michael Burr

Receiving support from a Dutch foundation and produced by Amrita Performing Arts — an arts organization drawing from a large pool of Cambodian artists who typically work together with foreign artists on new work — this contemporary dance project was grounded in Thai and Cambodian artists’ common of the traditional arts and a joint desire to use these foundations to create a new piece able to reach out to new Thai and Cambodian artists worked out a new way of the old meaning of traditional dance and music, first for themselves and then for their new viewers. The project created a new artistic space and some approaches for artists from both countries to try and transform themselves and their art from within, using the simple, deep and conflicted feelings embedded in the piece they were working on — such as confusion, helplessness, discouragement, sorrow, bravery, and anger. They reached across borders, making their performance in several ways — between Thailand and Cambodia, between form and content, between inner and outer — in order to create a new production that stressed the internal, contemporary and international dimensions of a art which often tends to be identified by, and to focus on, its external forms, traditional techniques and national culture. The Revitalizing production has since performed in several countries, which has allowed new audiences and more dancers around the world to see it. The young dancers who participated in it learned to dance onstage without wearing the masks and glittering costumes typical of their classical masked dance, donning instead black tee-shirts, purple farmer pants and bare faces. Although some of their patterned movements and poses remained from Lakhaon Kaol in the piece, they artfully supplemented and interwove these with spontaneous movements that were linked to the feelings of someone in the situation of the character they played. The use of multiple dancers’ bodies to represent the conflicted nature of the single character Machanub also allowed the artists to shape a new dynamic between themselves and besides directly communicating with their audience. They danced without masks with only each other and the audience who could now see them and feel their feelings in how their bodies and their square-angled stances and the beauty of their horizontal movements moved across the floor. All of this helped make this traditional piece into a fresh, strong blend of

understanding audiences. revitalizing

traditional

musicians,

energetic

music and dance that started by interactive work from different approaches from the conventional musical ensemble, crossing the borders of culture and tradition to enter upon the world stage with their dance. The Revitalizing project has also helped open the minds of all of its participants to alternative approaches to the classical training they had received. The two months of exchange and intense collaboration, as well as the experience gained from performing it to different audiences around the world, was successful both artistically and in terms of its cross-cultural collaboration, but the successes did not stop there. The dancers took what they learned to move in new directions and to seek for new approaches to deploying their training in unexpected ways on the world stage.8 Finally, the Cambodian dancers became more confident with exploring new ways to use their art, especially in embodying new feelings, meanings and rhythms within it. In these ways, the Revitalizing pilot project has helped to some new artistic by-ways across borders. We can see how it helped to increase the confidence of artists sharing their arts as close cousins separated by time and distance and to confirm some of their ways of using traditional training in contemporary settings. They found new friends who have common roots and who think in similar ways about what they can do with their training. They were given a brief space and time to figure out how to make their dreams for traditional arts come alive onstage. Funded by international organizations, it helped nurture artists to work and confirm their moves in their arts into a future for both

produce

8 Thai dancer and choreographer Pichet Klunchun gained more confidence while working as a choreographer that used traditional dancers in new settings. Pichet was trained in the giant role for Khon (classical masked dance) through special private tuition from a master at his home. As a dancer, he has been an outsider among Thai classical dancers for more than a decade. His unique training outside of the School of Music and Dance, where most serious classical training is carried out in Thailand, compelled him to think differently and try out new ways of using his art onstage. He learned that working with high quality classical dancers could create better contemporary dance performances using traditional sources. The Thai musical team, Sinnapa Sarasas and Sanchai Ue-silp, learned to share with musicians how to show more feeling in traditional music.

conventional and unconventional uses of classical training, a new way of dancing beyond borders.

Sophiline Cheam Shapiro: A Neak Kru (Teacher) with a New Global View Sophiline Cheam Shapiro has pioneered Cambodian efforts to revitalize its classical arts. Working on a much grander scale and based on a firmer international foundation than participants in the Revitalizing project, she has done much to ensure that dance lives beyond its borders in renowned performance spaces around the world. To get a sense of how she has enhanced the global life of Cambodian dance beyond its borders, I offer a few examples. I first met her not in Cambodia, but in India at an international conference of women directors in January 2003. She gave a talk in her fine English and presented her work, The Glass Box, which used Cambodia’s classical dance form to a common experience for women, rather than of a goddess as the basic form would suggest. I also knew her production of Othello — based on Shakespeare’s play but interpreted by Cambodian dancers — which had toured the United States and the world, not from seeing a live performance, but from the video clips I had seen of it in Thailand. Neak Kru Sophiline’s life and work has long straddled many borders and struggled with new ways to refresh Cambodian dance. Although a graduate in classical dance from one of the first classes of the Royal University of Fine Arts, after the fall of the Khmer Rouge regime, she has also had substantial working in Western performance environments. After living and working for more than 15 years in California, she has moved to Cambodia with her family, and made the new Khmer Arts Ensemble in Takhmao outside of Phnom Penh her main working base. Her deep classical Cambodian training and background keeps her faithful to its dance legacy, even as she infuses her work with new energy and ideas for a wider stage. The results suggest some of the innovative ways that Neak Kru Sophiline and her work operates globally, well beyond Cambodian borders. I met Neak Kru Sophiline again in Cambodia while I was working with Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants. Although based in the USA at the time, she was preparing her new touring piece,

Cambodian

project

experience recently

Seasons of Migration in Cambodia, working with her masters at the Royal University of Fine Arts. I have since been able to meet her at different places around the world. Her fascinating work follows a difficult path that balances her profound and knowledge of classical dance as a female master with a sense of how to inform old or unknown forms with a contemporary sensibility for the world stage. As the above anecdotes suggest, Neak Kru Sophiline’s projects over the last decade have been markedly cross-cultural and have operated beyond borders. A 1999 grant from the James Irvine Foundation helped her produce a version of Shakespeare’s Othello (Samritechak), for which she received the cooperation of her masters at RUFA in Phnom Penh, where it was shown in 2000 before touring to Hong Kong, Italy and the USA. Her solo piece The Glass Box premiered in Los Angeles before touring Asia. In 2005 her Seasons of Migration, which deals with the four stages of shock, toured to six cities in the USA. Last year, to celebrate the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth, she was commissioned to create a work as part of Director Peter Sellar’s New Crowned Hope Festival in Vienna. The result was her Pamina Devi, a work based on Mozart’s The Magic Flute, which premiered last year and has since toured around the world. By exploring ways to link Shakespeare and Mozart to classical Cambodian arts, Shapiro shows once again the universality and versatility of both. She further enriches the Cambodian dance language with a contemporary resonance and Although Pamina Devi has toured the world with an all-female cast, she originally sought to use male dancers to play the male roles normally performed exclusively by female dancers. The choice to use male dancers to dance in an arena normally reserved only for women dancers, but in a different costume rather than in the old style, challenged Shapiro and her teachers. Not only is the story new, but the choreography and music added more new energy to it. It took a contemporary direction and saw the main conflict in dance theatre, giving it a feel that was quite different from what a classical performance would give. In the end, the Ministry of Culture decided that only female dancers were allowed to perform the piece. After its Vienna premiere, the show then toured the US.

respectful remarkable

culture

classical significance.

Neak Kru Sophiline has long been a brave artist who dances a fine line between classical Cambodian and contemporary She has created original pieces with a strong Cambodian flavour that pushed her traditional training and knowledge in new directions. She has learned both to deal with Cambodian artistic authorities and to seek alternatives to what they deem possible. She has produced pieces that are enjoyed as much by foreign audiences as by Cambodians. Although using classical forms and traditional music as her base, her work has generated approaches that operate outside of strict traditional and assembled teams of Cambodian dancers who were able to create large-scale Cambodian works in a new contemporary idiom that have challenged Cambodian and foreign audiences alike to think about what Cambodian dance is here and now. Sophiline Cheam Shapiro is a master and creator of a new kind of Cambodian classical dance that works over borders and is based on a different worldview and working approach. She has started her own company outside Phnom Penh, and it operates quite differently from the Royal University of Fine Arts. She provides artists with a good salary and with new opportunities to use their art to work beyond borders defined for them by their training and tradition, as well as the national borders where they were born. When I visited her new company, which is in a private compound, I noticed that it included a laboratory space, where professional artists could practice and create new works and the repertoire in new ways, developing them from a strong traditional foundation but for new audiences in Cambodia and for the world stage. Even in Cambodia, many in the audiences of the performance of the pieces I attended were foreigners. Since she founded a new professional artistic organization in Cambodia, I was interested in her attitude and approach to working in the world of art. Her company and modern style of cultural management has artists create new work as well as teach others, and her classes have gained attention from foreign friends and artists, who help bring the new world to her team of artists and to students. Many of those who work with her are young and train hard, and will have another decade or more to train and dance. From my meeting, it was clear that they take their work seriously and strive to perfect the old forms, even though the management style and the contemporary work they do use their training in

performance.

experimental boundaries,

expand

new ways. As working artists and dancers in this new Cambodian context, they learn to give their work new meaning for and the pieces they work on, and help create both a new context and a new dance language for their art. By creating the possibility of living as a professional artist, Neak Kru Sophiline has provided a new foundation for their classical arts striving for contemporary relevance. She has created a new understanding and a new way of learning what both individual and ensemble work is about. Her company provides new opportunities on the world stage and also a new approach to work and live as artists who have more opportunities on the world stage, not only local audiences.

themselves

The Compass Ensemble Beyond Borders The final dance group I will consider here also operates beyond Cambodian borders, but is firmly grounded in the situation most Cambodian dancers know and live in. Known as the Compass dance ensemble, it is a collective of young artists who work together from time to time to promote Cambodian dance and dance more generally. I have found it to be both the newest and among the most interesting groups pointing toward a new, fragile, but future for Cambodian dancers. I have seen many Cambodian pieces that have had regional and international impact during several trips to Phnom Penh, including the new classical Preah Anurudh Preah Neang Ossa choreographed by Neak Kru Pen Sok Huon. At that time, I was also able to meet 11 young artists, some of whom I had known from earlier trips to in the last few years. This group included Phon Sopheab and Yim Savann — who had spent time in many places around the world, such as dancing for two months in Canada — as well as four Lakhoan Kaol artists and several other young friends. They work together as an artistic collective, developing new pieces for themselves. They represent the freshest but most fragile aspects of contemporary Cambodian dance working across borders. I was so moved by these young people who were trained in the form, but who have a strong desire to experiment with new ways of opening themselves up to new approaches and to new friends dancing beyond their borders. The dancers and choreographers in Compass gather together to work and to learn new things about the old arts they know best and then seek to show these new findings to others — both

positive, production

Cambodia

classical

—

Feeling Secondary School of Fine Arts members choreographed by Chey Chankethya (2008) Photographer: Kang Rithisal Performers: Dancers from the

of the Compass Ensemble;

Cambodians and foreigners — so that everyone learns what works best.9 The group has three main aims: •

preserving traditional

dance forms by practicing them careful research on developing dance by choreographing new work in both traditional and contemporary forms; and promoting dance through dance education that provides

them; regularly doing and

•

•

dance classes,

workshops

and

performances

for the

public.

All 11 members of the ensemble work for the Ministry of

Culture and Fine Arts, with most teaching in the Secondary School of Fine Arts, and two (Savann and Nimith), working in the Department of Performing Arts. The group was formed in order to

discover new ways to develop the arts in the schools where the artists are based and to upgrade dancers’ abilities so that they could become well-qualified dancers and choreographers, and to promote dance to the public. They want to find better approaches for teachers and to involve schoolteachers and students in the wide world of dance. As Compass member Chey Chankethya10 wrote to me in an e-mail interview: … Although our work is still small in comparison to that done by others, we seek to enhance dance and dance-education in Cambodia. For example, we are discussing teaching methods and trying to find more 9 This information comes from an interview with Chey Chankethya that we conducted through e-mail in August 2008. 10 Unlike the others in the group, Kethya was born in a family without ties to the world of dance, but that revered traditional culture. The deep interest in traditional culture led her to start studying classical dance. Raised in a traditional family and educated in a strict traditional form, she was able to work in a traditional school, giving her a strong connection to traditional culture. Her interests in contemporary work at first frustrated her since she was afraid to face those tradition minded people with her work. She says: … somewhat surprisingly, things didn’t happen as I thought they would. After seeing my choreography and dance, my traditional community seemed to understand me and to encourage me to pursue my goals because they realized that it did not destroy our tradition, but added some new flavour to it. Their advice was to keep me focused on the importance of technique and precision, even in contemporary work.

effective ways to teach dance. We regularly invite dance teachers, senior dancers, and students from schools to see our performances so that we can share what we have done and to broaden students’ minds to new possibilities for dance through a range of examples. We follow up these performances by further discussions. Our work has helped us to realize some benefits for the schools — the teachers and the students we work for …

The Compass ensemble also promotes dance for a wider public, not just by giving performances but also by providing workshops for different groups of people. They use the workshop format to give the public more knowledge about dance, and they hope to cultivate a sense of dance appreciation among members of the public by allowing them to have simple dance movements during the workshop. In 2006, they held a workshop about Khmer dance for students. Their workshops aim to provide people with some up-close experience of dance by dancers themselves, and thereby help people to see dance in a different way. They believe this will help build a larger audience base for dance performances over time. While highly rewarding, the group’s work is not easy. Every dancer knows hardship, in Kethya’s words, ‘since dance is to survive in Cambodia’s contemporary society’, yet they are ‘determined to do something’ through their collective work. It started out as an ad hoc group, with Kethya wanting to ‘do something’ for her school with ‘her cumulative knowledge of dance’. By calling on help from friends, the effort started by holding workshops, at first with Cambodian friends, but then by working with other foreign dancers — these were conducted by the school and Amrita and included taking a short course in dance administration at UCLA in the USA. The group slowly evolved, figuring out more systematic ways to achieve their goals. Kethya’s experience at UCLA provided two important ideas that have become central to the work done by the group. First, it convinced her that success would only result by ‘committed, practical teamwork’; and second, it inspired her by underscoring the importance of the concept of ‘freedom’. Together, these two ideas helped create a talented and strong-minded group that began making forays into contemporary work. The group sought new ways to promote traditional dance and to discover ways to include contemporary work in traditional dance today. Kethya

struggling

started to think about how to integrate features of both types of work into a single performance. Although aware that audiences would see traditional dance forms within contemporary work in a different way from before, she was also wise enough to see that contemporary forms could help revive the power of traditional forms for students and teachers, as well as more general by enriching those traditional forms with diverse and possibilities that fit better in contemporary society. Her own words say it best:

audiences, techniques

… The work we do seeks to remind people that traditional forms are not just old things valued in the past, but vital tools that can serve the needs of people today. More importantly,working on both forms is the best way to keep traditional dance forms alive and is a vital part of today’s environment. More importantly, I believe that traditional and modern/contemporary dance forms should co-exist, in order to strike a good balance between the past and the present. It is important to connect the power of the past to the present since they are not separate but interconnected reflections of one another, as well as being interconnected sources of powerful values, each helping to create a strong environment and point the way ahead for us …

Despite these ambitious aims, Compass has no specific target audience, choosing instead to try to serve society as a whole. If one group has received most of their attention to date, however, it has been young people. They hope to ‘bring the past to the present together and to find various ways of inserting traditional forms into today’s society in order to cultivate an appreciation of traditional culture as something alive’. They are aware that this is not work for everyone, so it must be adjusted to be acceptable to different generations and nationalities. By combining and contemporary forms, they hope to appeal to a wide segment of contemporary society. Members of Compass realize that workshops allow everyone to learn. They teach those who want to learn dance, of course, but they also teach the workshop leaders as well as new choreographic genres and dance techniques helping them expand the network of artists. For them, ‘to work in art or dance introduces everyone to the fundamental importance of sharing, borrowing, learning, and experimenting’. Their individual experiences abroad in the USA and in Australia were all ‘focused on getting to know the

traditional

world of dance’ including many new techniques and terms for doing choreography in brand new ways. Since they worked with artists who knew nothing of Cambodian classical forms, they were also able to learn more about how they perceived and worked with classical forms. They also learnt some methods that would appeal to foreign attitudes, artists and audiences. Surprisingly, many people seemed to think that classical dancers or traditional forms were less developed or even low forms of dance. This is something with which members of the group totally disagree. Working with foreigners helped Kethya and others to ‘discover my real identity about what it means to be a classical dancer and to do classical choreography. And it gave me strength to wipe away the biased views that many foreigners have of our classical forms.’ These words and attitudes are encouraging signs of life of Cambodia’s dance beyond borders. While interviewing the artists involved in Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants and also Mona, a folk female artist, I noticed how they all stressed the challenge and the freedom of learning to dance from within themselves as or ensembles, rather than only focusing on working within the traditions they had previously mastered. Working from the inside out, embodying their emotion is a new struggle, but not the only one they have. Many are learning to dance in order to present an idea that moves them. As they use their bodies, moving into new spaces, they seek for new ways to communicate with their bodies. They are inspired to move from new sounds, new music and new stories, but also by new feelings that guide their dance. The group has no single authority; it is an artists’ collective where each person shares her/his opinion and seeks to help embody their friends’ dreams for the stage.

attitude

individuals

disciplined Conclusions

Since it faced near extinction in the 1970s, Cambodian dance has received much government and international support. To ensure the survival of Cambodian dance, organizations from around the world have supported Cambodian national efforts to restore the country’s intangible arts traditions, including those of dance. This restoration, aided by help beyond its borders, has also been noticed beyond its borders through international tours and cultural exchanges. In the last generation, these efforts have

reconstituted Cambodian dance traditions and expanded their scope; dancers in Cambodia have found it easier to meet foreign artists and experts, and to travel abroad to perform and to learn. Organizations like UNESCO, and later Amrita Performing Arts, have helped lay the foundations for restoring Cambodian dance, as well as to open up new paths for dancers to engage with the world of dance and thereby to revitalize Cambodian traditional art forms. Working along the same lines, Sophiline Cheam Shapiro, at first from the USA and more recently from her school in and the new Compass ensemble, in its small way, have, as with Amrita’s Revitalizing project, strived to revive the that an earlier generation sought to restore. These new groups expand the work of Cambodian dancers beyond their borders and move audiences beyond their expectations of what Cambodian dance is. Their work is grounded in new sources of funding and new foreign artists. Cambodian artists have created new pieces able to attract the attention of dancers and audiences around the world. By struggling to negotiate the challenge of both preserving and reviving their dance, Cambodian dancers now live beyond their borders. In so doing, they let the world know more than just what Cambodian dance was, but also what it is and what it can be. As dancers, they can better contribute to the global forms of dance that inspire their audiences. However, they know they have to do more. Today Cambodia, like all countries, is alive beyond its borders. Its culture and its people circulate throughout the world in reality and in recordings. This is true not just of its economy, education, the government, but also of its performing arts. When Cambodian performers take the stage or appear on screen — whether in Phnom Penh or Tokyo or Bangkok or New York — they are creating spaces for Cambodian dancers and audiences beyond its borders. Cambodian artists’ normal operating space may be now on the global stage and screen, but these artists also need to learn some more about how to cross the borders that they have learned in the mind and bodies through mastering their forms. They need to recognize the power of their art in its own right and what its significance is for the global stage. This requires more opportunities to work with different artists in and outside of their country, and requires more support from organizations inside

Cambodia, traditions

contemporary

and outside of Cambodia. We can do our part by respecting their struggle to make their way in the dance world and by supporting their struggle to balance preserving and revitalizing their art on their own terms. Now restored, Cambodian dance traditions are much stronger than they were 30 years ago. Yet like us, many Cambodian dancers want to know: What is Cambodian dance and what can it become? We can join with the Cambodians as they walk their difficult, wonderful and distinctive paths toward their own ends, but we cannot walk these paths for them. If we join with the Cambodian dancers like those sketched in this article, we can dance with them beyond our borders, just as they continue to dance beyond their borders. We can learn to dance with them. Dance traditions in Cambodia have always been diverse, flexible and vital parts of its culture and society. Those are the very features that have ensured their survival in times of turmoil. We do not know what the future will bring for Cambodian dance, but we can be sure that Cambodian dancers live with a heavy past that they have learned to survive. In order for the dancers to remain a strong and viable force on the world stage, they will need to find their own way of using the rich traditions that they know best — classical, folk, traditional — to create meaningful new works for as well as powerful new works for us. It is our challenge to learn from them. We have to ask them how we can best help them do this. Cambodian dancers are opening up their work into new spaces across borders, infusing their work with the thoughts and feelings of the art they have mastered and the lives that they live. Audiences should be encouraged to open themselves up to the new possibilities that Cambodian artists are exploring and learn to experience it with the same freshness as they are. The new art forms they have learned interact with renewed art forms they have inherited. We can see them struggle with this interaction in studios and on stage. They are using their knowledge to with themselves, their teachers and their students, as well as with the audience. For Cambodian dancers to create a strong space on the stage in and beyond its borders, much is needed. A decade from now, artists will have a clearer sense of which paths are suitable and which techniques, skills, styles, and forms have

themselves

communicate contemporary

worked. The artists will be strong and be able to make choices and find reasons to work within their classical line or use the form to create new contemporary pieces. Even though they are now operating beyond the borders of their teachers and their past experiences, only continued funding from various government and foreign sources, only further work with diverse local and foreign artists, and only more opportunities to interact with local and foreign audiences will allow them to follow up their work and give them chances to dance for the world on their own terms. Do we have the courage to join them? Pornrat Damrhung is Associate Professor at the Dramatic Arts Department of Chulalongkorn University. She was producer and artistic director of Khon at Bangkok’s Sala Chalermkrung Royal Theatre (2004–2007), and has helped coordinate partnerships between classical Cambodian dancers and Thai artists as they create contemporary dance rooted in their own traditions and on their own terms. She has explored new ways to present Southeast Asian dance-drama with American students as artist-in-residence at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor and has worked with Thai dancers in designing new productions. She is now working in applied theatre and dance. Besides creating and staging many dance-drama presentations over the years, she has given numerous presentations at conferences and published numerous articles and a couple of books in both Thai and English.

7 Transmission of the Invisible: Form and Essence Peter Chin Introduction This is a remembering and rumination of the process of creation of a piece of dance theatre entitled Transmission of the Invisible, involving two classical Khmer dancers and three contemporary Canadian dancers, started in Phnom Penh in 2003 and in its premiere in Toronto in February 2008. This writing also reflects my ongoing relationship with present-day Cambodian dance culture as I have observed it, seemingly caught between a kind of frozen nostalgia of preservation at all costs and the new possibilities of a living tradition springing naturally from a community of young dance artists trained in classical forms but stimulated by the new. By this remembering and rumination, I am also expressing my personal yearning to fathom the phenomenon of the invisible transmission of culture and, by extension, the invisible transference of energy and information between all living things in Nature, as well as from what might be called alternate realities. This is a mode of communication that lies within a realm different from that of words and their meanings. In this regard, the discipline of dance has always been particularly remarkable as a vehicle for potentially transmitting information that works on this level, a primordial example of this being the dance of a shaman. The creation of Transmission of the Invisible is also concerned with the essence and inner life of the human person as it outwardly

culminating

Transmission of the Invisible

defines itself and if need be, asserts itself by means of collective artistic/cultural expressions, even after dire circumstances have threatened those collective forms of expression with near I am, of course, thinking in particular of the rebuilding of classical Khmer dance in Cambodia after the end of the Pol Pot regime, as well as (lamentably) many other examples of human cultures under attack. This literal life and death paradigm naturally leads me to further ponder the possibility of the proverbial merging of art and life as a real aspiration, where the vitality of the inner life, the artistic intention, artistic activity, and the everyday living of life can be understood as a continuum, not as separated things. It is important to inquire then if this ancient ethos of a holistic connection between creative/artistic activity and the living of daily life is something that is a part of the reclamation, revival and especially teaching of Khmer classical dance since the horrible rupture of the Pol Pot years. Or is this something that has not been bridged and largely left behind? Or is it something that has already long been in a process of gradual erosion? These questions are the key to understanding what I mean by the ‘transmission of the invisible’ in regard to the passing on of the essence of a culture. What is it that moved the collective Cambodian psyche in the 1980s to so urgently pass on its cultural essence contained in the visible vehicles of choreographic works of art and the required to execute them? These are crucial questions that I personally have in mind when I work with young Cambodian dance artists who are starting to evolve beyond strict interpreters of the classical canon into creators and potential innovators, whatever the idiom, traditional or contemporary, that they might be working in. Without somehow knowing this larger context of dance and creativity, how can a young dance artist find her way to being a contributing part of a continuum that maintains the relevance of dance in everyday life? And can an understanding of this ancient connection between dance and life, learned by studying classical and traditional works, be transferred to forwardlooking artistic activity in order to create something that, despite its outward newness and innovation of form and content, is still rooted in and connected to something essentially Khmer, even primordially Khmer?

oblivion.

imagination,

techniques

PeterChin

Lastly, following this holistic thread, I am compelled to reflect on the interconnectedness of all things amidst diversity and difference, illuminated by personal experiences in Cambodia as a foreigner. Especially during my first trip there, I wondered about the mysterious routes taken by the profound transmission of aspects of this foreign culture into my own being, somehow bypassing places that were blocked by what might be called shock, or even rejection in some cases, or just a debilitating unfamiliarity with language and culture. This became a salient feature that influenced my process of creating a dance work in Cambodia with Cambodians; sometimes, the relationship between Khmer culture (ancient and contemporary) and myself was made dynamic by our coming together in an ineffable embrace while simultaneously moving apart in uncomprehension. This push– pull aspect of our transcultural process also became thematic content within Transmission of the Invisible itself, informed by the experiences of the Canadian dancers when they worked with me in Cambodia, and of the Cambodian dancers when they worked with my company in Canada.

culture

A Chronology of Transmission of the Invisible 2003 My first visit to Cambodia included a five-month research trip to Phnom Penh and Siem Reap, observing classical Khmer music and dance at the Royal University of Fine Arts, and visiting the temples at Angkor. I also took private dance lessons in basic movement for the giant role. Inspired by a moving essay by Amitav Ghosh1 and my first of Cambodia and the state of the arts, dance in I began to conceive a project about the invisible components of the transmission of culture that survive despite the of our histories. I also felt that the project would be about the primacy and deep importance of dance as a vessel of the soul of a people. I made contact with Bowinneth Phem, a Cambodian/Dutch child psychologist working with traumatized

impressions particular, fragmentation collective

1 Amitav Ghosh, Dancing in Cambodia, At Large in Burma, New Delhi: Orient Blackswan, 1998.

Performers: From left —

Transmission of the Invisible, choreographed by Peter Chin, produced by Tribal Crackling Wind Louis Laberge-Côté, Phon Sopheap, Heidi Strauss, Andrea Nann. Yim Savann; Toronto (2008) Photographer: Cylla von Tiedemann

Cambodian children. We agreed to work together somehow on these burgeoning ideas that eventually became Transmission of the Invisible.

2004 On my second trip to Cambodia my time was spent mostly on further exploration, reflection and writing. Through meditation, I was alert to the evolution within me of the quality of ‘being present’ in/with Cambodia, characterized partly by my awareness of the gradual opening or expansion of different channels of and exchange on all levels. I visited Bowinneth Phem at Mango Tree Garden, a communitybased programme in Kandal province, which she had newly established in order to work with traumatized children through play and creativity. I proposed to Ms Phem to make Mango Tree Garden a community partner with Transmission of the Invisible.

transmission

2005 On this visit, my third trip to Cambodia, I was accompanied by Cylla von Tiedemann, the video artist/photographer for Transmission of the Invisible. Together we gathered source video for what would later become the video projections during the dance work. We visited Mango Tree Garden. We also began to shoot videos of dance teachers while instructing students, with special focus on physically guiding the student’s body through touch. Cylla and I went on the first of a series of trips to the countryside, this time to the Kep area on the coast. Our intention was to search for and commune with the spirit of Cambodia that vibrated within its Nature. Videos were made of these experiences. We also did video shoots at the Angkorian temple site of Phnom Chisor.

classical

2006 At the World Dance Alliance Global Assembly in Toronto, I met with Fred Frumberg, director of Amrita Performing Arts, Phnom Penh, and we agreed to collaborate on Transmission of the Invisible, and bring two Cambodian dancers into the project. In Toronto, I started work with Heidi Strauss, Andrea Nann and Louis LabergeCôté, three Canadian dancers. I began generating movement material for Transmission of the Invisible based on intuitive states,

telepathy and experiments with right brain activity in order to sense the meaning of information received in a foreign language, or in an idiom of communication that is not verbal. On my fourth trip to Cambodia, I began work with the two Cambodian dancers, Lakhaon Kaol performers Yim Savann (trained in the giant role) and Phon Sopheap (trained in the monkey role). Later, in Phnom Penh, we were joined by the three Canadian sound-recording engineer and co-composer Garnet Willis and Cylla von Tiedemann. The Cambodians and Canadians all worked together to generate movement material, imagery and sonic information. The complex light-and-shadow reactions of the Canadian dancers encountering Khmer culture and history for the first time, especially within the psychological pressure cooker of an artistic endeavour where they were called upon to be hyper-aware of their feelings, led to some core movement material that set the tone for Transmission of the Invisible. remembered encounters with Cambodian people and places, reconstructing the way that their bodies, especially their faces, moved in response to these situations, were compiled as choreographic seeds. The Canadian team also worked and explored in the Kep area, Phnom Penh and at Mango Tree Garden, gathering material. They also attended classical Khmer dance rehearsals, dance shows (‘Les Nuits d’Angkor’) and ceremonies (sampeah kru — a blessing of respect made by all Cambodian performers to their deceased ancestors prior to any performance). I began to and there were ‘performances’ of these sketches in public and street locations in Phnom Penh. These were all recorded. The Canadian team, Savann and Sopheap, later met in Siem Reap and we all danced together in exploratory work in the Prasat Beng Melea and at Preah Palilay temples.

dancers,

Reenacting

choreograph, various

2007 On my fifth trip to Cambodia in April 2007, I worked in-depth with Savann and Sopheap in Phnom Penh within a movement idiom, but based strongly in their classical movement idiom. At the invitation of Sophiline Cheam Shapiro and John Shapiro, with all their Khmer Arts Ensemble, dancers and musicians in attendance, Savann and Sopheap danced this choreographic material in a work-in-progress presentation, and

contemporary

I danced and spoke in a solo. After the presentation at Khmer Arts Ensemble, there was a question and answer period, where Savann, Sopheap and myself were included in a passionate about the troubling decline of classical dance education in Cambodia, and issues about how to participate in a sensitive and informed way in the evolving, living tradition of Khmer classical dance, whether it is in innovation within a primarily classical idiom, or the coming together of classical Khmer dance with other elements from outside of the classical Khmer paradigm. Kor Borin from the French Cultural Centre saw a run-through in the studio and invited Savann, Sopheap and myself to present the work at the first Lakhaon: Rencontres Internationale de Théatre Festival of traditional Khmer forms of dance and theatre, programmed with other traditional and contemporary work from France, Laos and Indonesia that was scheduled for October of the same year. I was also introduced to three traditional Khmer musicians, and directed them in order to make sound recordings for later use in the making of the music for Transmission of the Invisible. I met with Sang Sanuth, his younger half brother and their grandmother in the village of Kean Svay and I shot video material of Sanuth and his brother taking care of the dying matriarch. After gaining permission to do so, we used this footage in of the Invisible. Other footage came from my period of residing with the monks at the Sweet Mango Pagoda in Ang Snuol district, Kandal Province (on the same grounds as the Mango Tree Garden project). I shot video material of interviews with the abbot and the meditation work of the monks. In October of the same year (2007), I returned to Phnom Penh to prepare for the presentation of the work-in-progress excerpt of Transmission of the Invisible danced by Savann and Sopheap. I also danced a solo as part of this work-in-progress excerpt of Transmission of the Invisible presentation, 5 October, at the Chaktomuk Theater arranged by Amrita Performing Arts. I worked with five traditional Khmer musicians to compose the music for the presentation — they performed live on stage in a traditional manner. In December, I returned to Toronto and later in the month, I was joined by the Cambodian dancers, Savann and Sopheap,

discussion

Transmission

for two months of rehearsal with the rest of the company for the premiere of Transmission of the Invisible.

2008 Residency at HarbourfrontCentre,Toronto. Premiere of Transmission of the Invisible on 7 February My seventh trip to Cambodia took me back to Phnom Penh in February for a vacation and follow-up with community of Transmission of the Invisible, reporting back to them about the premiere performances, reviews and public reaction for this work to which they had contributed. I also screened video documentation of the performances for them. Later in the same year I returned to Phnom Penh in November to teach a workshop to young Khmer dance artists under the auspices of Amrita Performing Arts. A discussion of the November choreographic workshop is given in the following section and a discussion of the follow-up with some community partners is given in the section Reactions, Reviews and Evaluation.

participants

choreographic 2009

Savann and Sopheap travelled to Toronto again, a year later, to work with the Canadian team in preparation for the first of three tours of Transmission of the Invisible across Canada and to Singapore and Cambodia.

Towards a Cambodian/Canadian Collaboration Before I knew about the wonders of the Angkorian temples or the fame of the Khmer Royal Ballet, or even the war in the 1970s, I was inexplicably drawn to Cambodia. I remember being a child of less than six years old, looking at a children’s book with drawings of people from different countries around the world in native costumes standing in front of iconic national scenes. I loved that book, but the only picture I remember specifically was of little girl from Cambodia in a dancer’s costume with the high stupa-like headpiece, standing in front of a Khmer style temple with the upturned finials on the roof. This left an indelible impression on me. I remember this here, not to be nostalgic, but to wonder about something in human nature. Now that I have

been to Cambodia often, and have had many significant

experiences there, I wonder what drew my spirit to its culture in the first

place, because I can’t quite give a decisive reason for this attraction. Indeed, what instinctively draws a person to one foreign culture over many possible others is a question that might lead to revealing the kinds of states of being that are intuitively operating when deep transmission of the invisible is taking place. (In this paradigm, I am discounting a surface attraction to a foreign culture that is based primarily on the allure of something ‘exotic’.) Really, to decide to enter a foreign culture as much as possible, one arrives with a great amount at stake. Not least of which is to confront the possibility of sacrificing aspects of oneself as arise — to morph and revise personal characteristics and impulses in order to harmoniously merge with the people around and to be embraced, at least in some degree, as one of them. It is interesting to me that the ultimate goal of such a person might be to so completely become ‘the other’ that one no longer ‘sticks out’ as a foreigner, but, in effect, becomes invisible. But this invisibility is by no means a diminishing of agency within that on the contrary, it is currency that can take one deeper into it. I have heard many people who become fluent in a foreign language speak of the access it affords them of penetrating deeper into the culture. In Transmission of the Invisible, I am exploring those hard-todefine energy/emanations of the human spirit that transmit in a type of language of their own. I think a central irony of our existence is that this ‘language’ of the soul belongs to us to the core, yet we are far from fluent in our own language, and indeed, we sometimes back away from it because it feels like a strangely alien mode of communication that is only to be exercised for very special cases, hardly considered as an integral part of everyday existence. Trying to learn from Nature about this, I have been fascinated to contemplate the example of the very alien (to me) of ants — theirs is not one of spoken words, but of chemical combinations that they leave behind for others to ‘read’. The sheer scope of diversity of modes of communication that binds us together is overwhelming to acknowledge, and realizing this should move us to wean ourselves away from an almost sole reliance on conventional verbal communication of words and their meanings. Again, I come back to cite the exemplariness of

challenges

culture;

language

dance as an activity that can embrace information that exists in the language of the soul or in an alternative, wordless language, and translate it into an embodied form or format of expression, enabling the information to be transmitted to others and out into the world. Delivered through these channels, for the ‘listener’, this information is not so much understood in the conventional sense as it is felt, experienced and known. This capacity for ‘listening’, like any language, requires familiarity, experience, fluency, in order to mine ever deeper into the layers of and nuance that are contained in these communications. In this regard, I am especially struck by the specialness of the case of Cambodian dance since the end of the war. During my first trip to Cambodia, I thought that the instinctive urgency to reclaim and rebuild classical dance after the war was an of what those dances contained about the Khmer soul that could not be expressed in any other way. The story of dance in Cambodia since the end of the war has inspired me and many others by its universal message of resilience of our collective humanity expressed in creative acts of beauty, truth and poetry. In preparation for my first trip to Cambodia, I read the book Dancing in Cambodia, At Large in Burma by Amitav Ghosh, and cried at the description of the first time when, in 1988, music and dance was performed in Cambodia since the beginning of the Pol Pot period. Commentators who were there spoke of the general devastation, particularly the degradation of in Phnom Penh, yet there was this movement to focus on dance and music. The artists were working under decrepit with what costumes and instruments were salvaged after the war.

proficiency, meaning

indication

infrastructure conditions,

But people flocked to the theatre the day the festival began … they came pouring in, and the theatre was filled far beyond its capacity. It was very hot inside. Eva Mysliwiec, who had arrived recently to set up a Quaker relief mission, was one of the few foreigners present at that first performance. When the first musicians came onstage she heard sobs all around her. Then, when the dancers appeared, in the shabby, hastily-made costumes, suddenly, everyone was crying: old people, young people, soldiers, children — ‘you could have sailed out of there in a boat’… the people who were sitting next to her said: ‘We thought everything was lost, that we would never hear our music again, never see our dance.’ They could not stop crying; people wept

through the entire length of the performance … It was a kind of rebirth: a moment when the grief of survival became indistinguishable from the joy of living. 2

When I first started to observe classical Khmer dance classes, I was particularly struck by watching Em Theay, one of only 10 per cent of the palace dancers to survive the Khmer Rouge genocide, and HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi teaching dance to young students. This triggered my imagination, and I pictured surviving artists who could remember the dances and pass on their precious knowledge, in the 1980s, working intensely with their students with an urgent compulsion to imbue in them much more than the steps, techniques and choreographic forms. I imagined that there must have been an innate sense of mission to transmit that which was invisibly contained within the vessels of the forms and techniques that they were teaching. I imagined that collectively among them, a special, even altered state of must have come to the fore stronger than usual, given that there was something of ultimate value at stake, such as irrevocably severing a link with a deep past that held secrets about who and what they were. I decided that this heightened state of transmission was what I wanted to explore with dancers sharing the stage with each other, and of course sharing the theatre with the audience. As I began to understand the current state of dance education in Phnom Penh, the question came up that to what degree did Khmer classical and traditional dance today still offer a viable access point to something primordially Khmer — an essence, a spirit, that had been transferred through the ages from incarnation to incarnation of formal and spontaneous cultural expressions. When I first started to work with them, I asked Savann and Sopheap about this — if they felt connected to something ancient and specifically Khmer when they were creating new dance. It was something that had never really occurred to them substantively in that contemporary context although, by that time, they had already had a fair amount of experience in Cambodia and abroad as upand-coming young contemporary dance artists. But as traditional

transmission

2 Amitav Ghosh, Dancing in Cambodia, At Large in Burma, New Delhi: Orient Blackswan, 1998. pp. 51–52.

dancers, participants in the sampeah kru ceremony and inheritors of the lineage of their teachers’ guidance, it was something that they naturally understood and perhaps even took for granted. I think, however, that taking it for granted precluded a certain kind of personal delving into the matter in relation to their own practice as dancers and creators. Recently, after performances of of the Invisible, Savann told me that he has been able to explore in a new way what Khmer culture means to him, especially as he has experienced it within his own inner life, because of the self-exploratory opportunities that the process and the afforded him. In particular, Savann referred to the way that the choreography and movement material was built up by reading and incorporating the energy and personal experiences of each dancer as they engaged in the specific questions and inner probing that the themes of Transmission of the Invisible of them. So in effect, Savann felt that there was great scope for him to explore something that was new, foreign and for him, but clearly based on a re-evaluation of his own culture, experiences and training. Further, he said that because of this kind of process that took into account his own strengths as a base upon which to approach other styles and ethos of dance, he felt a deep satisfaction about the extent to which he could master what the choreographer was asking him to do. Sopheap agreed on all points with Savann and went on to add that because there was such an emphasis on working on the material from the inside to the outside, locating the impulses and emotional understanding of the themes and movement from an inner awareness, even a meditative state, he was able to go beyond a sole reliance on outward mimesis that had most of his previous forays into contemporary Western dance. Sopheap also stressed to me how important it was for him to have the opportunity to be more awakened to who he was as a person and as an artist by this inward-rooted process. In addition, Sopheap reported that observing and working intimately with the Canadian team as they discovered how Khmer culture resonated for them became a lens for him through which to and regard his own Khmer-ness in a fresh way. But to be honest, Sopheap told me that at first, he didn’t know what I was talking about when I introduced the concept of the transmission of the invisible to them (at that time, made more

Transmission performances

demanded challenging

content characterized

reexperience

murky because of the need to translate), and why he was asked to focus in a meditative way on such personally interior when we did our first movement workshop. This workshop involved Savann and Sopheap sharing with me their and movement improvisations that represented their contemporary side. In addition to this, I began to gradually my movement content and ethos to them. How could this be dance, Sopheap wondered, if someone on the outside couldn’t see such small impulses inside of him. But after a careful process where we were all open to what each other had to share and show, it was very satisfying how we came to agree that ‘small’ was very relative, and so, the tiniest inner murmuring of an idea or emotion could then be the root or the kernel of a movement that was able to be seen (or felt) from someone on the outside. So we spoke about this kernel which led to a discussion on the idea that this seed inside of them from which they could create contemporary, even iconoclastic dance, was in fact part of a real, living vibration of something very old and essentially Khmer that through the memory of the blood, resonated with a primordial presence, even down to their DNA. This rumination on their personal access to an ancient Khmer-ness, even within an activity called dance creation, seemed to be liberating and giving of creative licence to them when they considered fraught issues within their own dance milieu, such as purity, correct traditional content and treatment, innovation and (UNESCO intangible world heritage acknowledged) preservation of Khmer classical dance and music. These complex concepts related to being a Khmer dance artists today ultimately became more accessible to Savann and Sopheap when they were embodied by them through the act of dancing in performance in a ritualized and transcendent way. It was interesting for me to see also how the visual and sonic worlds of Transmission of the Invisible were able to support and elaborate these ineffable states of awareness for all of us. In particular, the carefully observed and recorded visual and sound world of Cambodia that was created by Cylla von Tiedemann, David Duclos and Arun Srinivasan (video and set respectively) and sound design and music by Garnet Willis and myself in collaboration with the Khmer musicians became very evocative, poetic conduits for Savann and Sopheap to experience these abstract aspects of their culture

information choreographies introduce

contemporary

and history in a new way. My observations here were based on watching the strong emotional reactions of the two Cambodian dancers during the process and performances, and on our sharing together about their feelings as participants in the work. In the choreographic workshop that I gave at Amrita Arts in November/December 2008 for 12 promising young Khmer dance artists, I was heartened to observe a similar engagement and willingness to share and be open to the methods and perspectives that I was offering them. It was clear to me that amongst the group there was a wide range of experience of artistic and performance issues outside of the specificity of their traditional Khmer art — from much, to a little to almost none. But despite this diversity of level of experience, there seemed to be a unity in certain sentiments coming from the group. There seemed to be a general understanding that the interior work that I was challenging them with was to be used as a kind of foundation in order to create movement/choreographic content based on their own ways of moving. In other words, there did not seem to be any rush to be able to ‘look like’ a dance piece in a perceived Western style, or to be slick or spectacular for its own sake. There seemed to be patience beyond mere politeness for the unspectacular, incremental work that we were going through together. They to me a heartfelt appreciation to have the opportunity to refine their engagement with their inner vision and how to turn that into dance. They displayed at the same time an admirable pragmatism and conscientiousness exemplified by expressing concern about how to bring this inside focus out so that it would engage the public and not be alienating, as well as wondering what techniques they could practice in order to stay connected to their inner focus while dancing on the outside so as to keep the dance constantly streaming from this valued source. Many of them told me that this work was completely new for them, kinesthetically and conceptually. Some of them were either students or instructors at the Royal University of Fine Arts and Secondary School of Fine Arts, and they told me that they were unaware of anything like this approach there. As an indication of their dedication to learning new things, though some of them were under considerable to attend my workshop because they found it hard to afford the transportation cost for the long distance they had to travel

Performing emotional

expressed

difficulty

from the campus which had been moved by the Ministry of Culture to the outskirts of the city; they came anyway. I believe that these qualities of openness and self-possession that I found in these developing artists was in a large part due to the important work being done by Amrita Performing Arts in Phnom Penh with the young dance, music and theatre milieu. Amrita has situated itself in the tricky place of ‘researching and producing professionally staged traditional and classical performances both in Cambodia and abroad, while developing and encouraging artists’ expressive potential in contemporary theater, dance and music.’ 3 This dual focus of traditional and forward-looking often requires Amrita to bridge cross purposes in the middle of which young artists and students sometimes find themselves. With Amrita’s holistic mandate, it has nonetheless created a place where young artists are given opportunities to be grounded in their salvaged traditions, while providing experiences which encourage them to follow their as developing artists towards manifesting the full potential of the many ways they can be creative agents in Cambodia and the world in the twenty-first century. However, some attention from outside of Cambodia, paid to young Khmer dance artists, has not been so culturally sensitive and nurturing as Amrita. As an example of this, I found that in my workshop, there was sometimes a tendency by a participant to explore extreme angst and anger as a perceived hallmark of Western expressive freedom, erroneously placing premium value on this kind of overtly dramatic and sometimes sensational area of human emotion at the expense of exploration of the rest of the spectrum of human expressivity. This unfortunate of what expressive freedom in Western theatre is, according to my direct observations, was acquired by this young, artist, under the influence of a foreign visiting artist working with young Cambodians, who over-emphasized a with the darkness of Cambodia’s past and the tenebrous shadows it still casts today, and with a cultural imperialist’s zeal, sought to enlighten these young Cambodian artists by replacing perceived Khmer characteristics of reserved discretion and gentleness (especially in women) with an in-your-face rage

impulses

misconception impressionable fascination

3 Amrita Performing Arts, www.amritaperformingarts.org.

that was stirred up for its own sensationalistic, theatrical end, without much thought or perhaps concern as to how this would be channelled by the young Cambodian artists afterwards to be able to mean something more than raw rage within their own Cambodian paradigm. I am glad to say that in my workshop, the ‘angry’ participant was able to escape that creative rut and find a wider emotional range, which seemed to give a lot of relief. It was good to see, though, that the edginess, boldness and originality of that participant’s work did not diminish by exploring non-angry states, but rather was augmented. This sense of responsibility to be as informed as possible, culturally sensitive and respectful while doing creative work in Cambodia in collaboration with Khmer artists has from the made Transmission of the Invisible a formidable endeavour for me, an endeavour nevertheless that I felt compelled to embark on. The fact that I was trying to find and portray something that was invisible and ineffable only added to my fear of this work. I think that I personally set the barre high in terms of finding a language that would be as true as possible an integration of my own voice in partnership with what I was seeing, hearing, feeling, learning, and knowing in Cambodia. This psychological profile is given in order to contextualize my relationship to the kinds of reactions Transmission of the Invisible received in Cambodia.

beginning

movement

Reactions, Reviews and Evaluation One of the ways I exercised my sense of responsibility in Cambodia was to reconnect with community partners who appeared in the video footage of Transmission of the Invisible after the premiere in Toronto, especially since their stories, dances and sharing were so personal and given with such openness and generosity. I contacted as many of these people as I could to give them a package of of the show and media material, to share with them how the show went and to watch with them video documentation of the show when I was able to. Because of the once removed experience of watching a dance theatre work on video, and because of the non-linear, abstract quality of Transmission of the Invisible, I was surprised at the generally engaged and emotional responses from some of the Cambodians that I showed the work to.

documentation

Sang Sanuth (who was featured in video footage alongside his younger half-brother taking care of their dying grandmother) cried so much that he chose to leave the room not more than 10 minutes into the beginning of the video of Transmission of the Invisible. I was surprised that this reaction did not happen even during the part where the video footage of the caring for his grandmother took place (she died weeks after the video footage was taken). Sang Sanuth in fact began to cry during the opening duet danced by Savann and Sopheap, later expanded into a quintet with the three Canadians, a choreography that he had, in part, seen live before, when it was performed as an excerpt in progress at Chaktomuk Theater in Phnom Penh. When I asked him why he was so moved, at first he was unable to put into words his reaction, and we left it at that. Later, he intimated that he had never seen Cambodian dancers perform like that, that although there were Cambodian movements that he recognized, they were also mixed with ways of moving that were new and fascinating to him. He found the range of expressivity, inner strength and confidence of Savann and Sopheap powerful and deeply felt on their part. With the video elements, lighting and other production values, I knew that Sang Sanuth was engrossed by the world that was on the stage, and to see part of his life placed within that poetic realm. Also, I knew that he had a deep, as yet unfulfilled desire to dance and perform on stage like that. I think this added to his feelings. When Bowinneth Phem watched the video, she was also struck deeply and told me that she didn’t anticipate that it would be so beautifully produced. She made sure to add that she didn’t think that the production values detracted from the heart of what was happening on stage. Also, she said that she felt it was important for young artists like Savann and Sopheap to have access to this kind of process that put such an emphasis on the inner work in relation to dance, and so she was happy that I would come back to Cambodia to teach the choreographic workshop to more young Cambodian artists. Bowinneth had watched Savann and Sopheap from the beginning of the process and she said that the development in all areas of their performances was truly and very moving to witness. Bowinneth had, in fact, been in contact with Transmission of the Invisible from the beginning, even as I was conceptualizing out loud about my feelings about being in Cambodia for the first time. Indeed, our first conversation was

remarkable

so immediately in-depth, connected and highly focused that I really felt that that conversation itself was something which began to reveal to me the meaning of transmission of the invisible. In our conversation, the kind of deep listening of spoken and unspoken information, the way that the space between speakers became a heightened energetic field that conducted information that seemed to transcend cultural and linguistic barriers and change the usual sense of time and space, all brought about an early experience in Cambodia, in tandem with the example of the rebuilding of Khmer dance after the war, that led to the core ideas of Transmission of the Invisible. Also, as a part of the follow-up with Bowinneth, I visited several times Mango Tree Garden again, and worked with the volunteer team and the children, sometimes by giving a warm-up that was related to the work that I had done for Transmission of the Invisible. It was wonderful to feel that the relationships that Transmission of the Invisible brought about with Cambodia and Cambodians did not end with the completion and performances of the work, but in fact seemed more like an opening to somewhere deeper. When the work was performed as a work-in-progress excerpt at Chaktomuk Theater, the reactions from the dance milieu were very encouraging for me. In general, there seemed to be recognition of the Khmer content in the work, but also of the recontextualization of this traditional material in tandem with the non-Khmer elements. As a visitor to the culture, working with two Cambodian dancers within their own tradition as a starting point and collaborating with them from my own aesthetic, I was nervous as to how the work would be received in Cambodia. As it turned out, many young dancers and students were excited by the combination of movement, feeling both engaged by the familiar and intrigued by the new. They didn’t seem turned off by not understanding the arm and hand movements in the way that they would read classical Khmer arm/hand movements as having recognizable and standard meanings. They seemed to accept the state of not-knowing-the-story, and were able to shift their sense of appreciation, therefore, to the state of feeling visceral, emotional responses elicited by the work, mostly untroubled by an inability to say sometimes why they felt that way.

movement

Savann told me that the rambunctious 10-year-old boys in the first rows quietened down as soon as the concert of Transmission of the Invisible started and remained quiet throughout the piece. A few days later, when I was in an internet cafe, a little boy recognized me and began to dance for me in an energetic impression of my movement. When I asked him if he liked the show, he shouted ‘I liked it!’ and ran off. This wonderful, spontaneous exchange meant a lot to me. For different reasons, I was as touched by the comment from an esteemed Khmer linguist and cultural authority, long-time Cambodian resident Alain Daniel. I felt a great sense of relief and happiness when he told me that ‘Transmission of the Invisible gave us something new and beautiful without betraying the soul of the Khmer past.’ These two reactions came from two very different people and I wondered if it were really possible, because of the different ways that they experienced the world, that they actually saw the same show, although, of course, they were both present at Chaktomuk Theater and watched Transmission of the Invisible at the same time. As in any work of art, potentially, one person sees or hears something in it that another does not see or hear at all. While it is true that this might be because of one person’s projection of personal preoccupations into the work, it is also true that there are things that are really present that one can ‘see’ while the other cannot. After performances of Transmission of the Invisible in cities in Canada, I was intrigued by why one person was moved to tears, while another was unmoved; how for some, the video enhanced the metaphysical experience working in tandem with the dance, while for others it distracted them from ‘seeing’ the metaphysical in the dance; how some felt the presence of spirits during the work while for others, it never occurred to them that a contemporary stage work could aspire to move beyond mere representation towards a real ritual where spirits were genuinely invited to be present.

various

In a conversation with Sophiline Cheam Shapiro and John

Shapiro, they told me a story about one of their young dancers becoming possessed by the spirit of an ancestral teacher during rehearsal. The venerable teacher began to conduct the rehearsal in a very authoritative manner, speaking through the young girl. The teacher made it clearly known that she was displeased with the tempo of the music that the musicians were taking. It was too

fast. It was inferred that if the dance and music were not at the very specific, correct slowness, optimal spiritual capacity of the dance could not be achieved. I understand optimal spiritual as being the ideal conditions for the realm of spirits and gods and the realm of humans to be temporarily bridged. My friend, the artist Vera Frenkel, wrote to me after the opening of Transmission of the Invisible: ‘Last night’s performance was absorbing and at times profoundly moving. The ghosts really did walk among us, and the reconstruction of meaning from fragments was made visible.’ A reviewer, Brian D. Johnson, wrote:

capacity

completely

Transmission of the Invisible lives up to its ambitious title by taking us on a descent into the collective unconscious, as if trying to divine the cure for cultural amnesia. The ancestral spirits come and go ... 4

In the Toronto Star, the dance reviewer wrote of Transmission of the Invisible: [the] dance is a way of showing the imprint of a culture on a body, like a genetic code ... Chin has traveled far, geographically and metaphysically, to bring back a story of survival and renewal. 5

And a Vancouver writer commented: [he] roams the earth, observing and absorbing it into his bones, fluid and flesh ... then transforms [the] moving body into a map of the world, taking everyone who cares to watch on a journey to places some might know, to places others can’t go and to places that only the human spirit can comprehend. 6

In contrast, another reviewer wrote: As a whole, Transmission of the Invisible is aesthetically quite beautiful, and is certainly highly evocative of another time and another place.

4 Brian D. Johnson, ‘Swimming to Cambodia’, 7 February 2008, http:// forums.macleans.ca/advansis/. 5 Susan Walker, Toronto Star, 8 February 2008. 6 Chick Snipper, Plank Profile: ‘Who is Peter Chin?’, Plank Magazine, posted 9 February 2009.

I can’t say that I was moved in the way I had expected from a piece with such a lofty premise, and because of this there were moments when my attention flagged ...7

Another reviewer wrote: The work remained at a distance, for me at least. This could have had something to do with my awkward seat at Toronto’s Enwave Theatre, on the third level wrap-around balcony on stage right, perched above the performance space. I felt removed from the experience of the work and very much an observer from my odd angle. I was aware of my looking in on something, not unlike the feeling I have at a museum or gallery exhibit, yet different … 8

actually particularly

I think that it is quite telling that Megan Andrews felt that she remained at a distance from the work maybe because of the awkward angle from which she was witnessing the piece. It suggests to me that she was not at the optimal position to see the work, to be sure, but also that she was not at the optimal placement to be an emotional receptor for the transmission of the invisible components of the work. It is like not being able to see or sense something, which is nonetheless there, until you step a little to the right and cock your head to a slight angle to make it appear before your eyes or in your mind. Andrews, in fact, seems to take a leap of faith when later she writes: … watching this work, I couldn’t help but think of Chin and his as creative anthropologists. In this way then,Transmission of the Invisible can be understood as an ethno-choreography that undoes the traditional [anthropological] approach, through transcultural, multimedia collaboration ... Anchored by its Cambodian context, the piece opens up the inherent aporia, the impossibility of an uninterrupted cultural history, which is necessarily invented, always collaged. In a way that a text perhaps cannot, this ethno-choreographic performance is able to reveal an impossible process that occurs nonetheless: the transmission of the invisible. 9

collaborators

7 Jill Goldberg, ‘Transmission of the Invisible: Filled With Visible Beauty’, Plank Magazine, posted 1 February 2009. 8 From Megan Andrews, ‘Peter Chin: ethno-choreographer’, Dance Current online, reviews and responses, posted 10 May 2008. 9 Ibid.

My last thoughts turn again to the ancestral teacher speaking through the possessed young dancer. If my raison d’être is to create the optimal vehicle, the perfect form in order to contain or make manifest an essence, a spirit, so that realms may be bridged, then is my criteria for a successful work of art more responsible to the perfection of the form as a work of theatre that satisfies most its human audience in terms of finesse, brilliance and excellent craftsmanship (or even perhaps usefulness as a tool of persuasion), or is the criteria more responsible to the maximization of the conditions that will bring the spirit realm into ours, perhaps as dictated by, or channelled from, primordial voices? My answer to myself oscillates somewhere in between, to be sure, since this negotiation is its own dance that must be performed to keep the dynamics between the realms ever evolving, always responding to the present moment, to the developing capabilities of the artist/ shaman, and to the receptivity/readiness of the ‘audience’. within this paradigm, the usual criteria of an engaging dance work, a good dance work, or even common sense in dance, — such as pacing, variety, duration, development, and in particular, the use of current, popular trends — might be challenged. When the ancestral teacher demanded that the dance and music go slower, I imagine that the slower tempo might have been counter-intuitive according to current tastes, but perhaps it was really the optimal tempo for the dancers to be able to manifest the spirits collectively. For this kind of reason, I believe that some aspects should not be changed in the old dances, because they are already at their optimal, distilled level according to their metaphysical purpose. That is also to say that I believe that there are wrong reasons for dictating the freezing of some traditions for the sake of preservation as its own end. In Cambodia today, because of the recentness and gravity of re-initialization the connection to the ancient past, especially through dance, this negotiation between that past (i.e. tradition) and new information and ideas has something very special to say as an example. For me personally, it has been a deeply valued and moving thing to observe and be a part of. It would be hard for me to overstate how much it has influenced the creation of Transmission of the Invisible, and my artistic outlook in general. My heartfelt thoughts always go out to all the young Khmer dance artists whose spirits have moved me so much by their

Certainly,

cultural

dedication to their traditional art while setting out on very personal journeys of expansive discovery. — March 2009, Granada Nicaragua Peter Chin was born in Jamaica of Chinese, African and Irish descent. He is the artistic director of the interdisciplinary performing arts company Tribal Crackling Wind in Toronto, where he is based. Through support from the Canada Council for the Arts, Chin has done extensive research as an artist into the performing arts of Southeast Asia, in particular in Indonesia where he lived in the 1990s, as well as more recently in Cambodia. He is a respected and much sought after choreographer/ dancer, composer/musician, designer, and director. His performance works and dance films have been presented across Canada at major dance and music festivals, as well as in Japan, Indonesia, Malaysia, India, Singapore, Holland, the UK, Jamaica, Mexico, and the USA. Peter Chin is the recipient of numerous awards including multiple Dora Mavor Moore Awards for dance, as well as the Muriel Sherrin Awards for international achievement in dance, among others. In 2008, he premiered Transmission of the Invisible, produced in collaboration with Amrita Performing Arts, Cambodia, at Toronto’s Harbourfront Centre’s World Stage International Series, before touring it across Canada, and to Singapore and Cambodia.

8 Dancing Off Centre Sophiline Cheam Shapiro In 1999, while choreographing the dance drama Samritechak, I was having difficulty with a scene in which the principal characters appear before the king in order to make accusations and defend themselves. My first draft followed the conventions of classical dance dramas as they have been staged for at least a century. I set the king on a throne upstage centre and set the principals and the soldiers behind them, seated at his feet in an inverted V shape that opens downstage. This triangular floor pattern reinforces the authority of the king character by making him the focal point and by elevating him above all others, but it limits the possibility for dancing. Instead, a chorus explains the story through song, and the king illustrates the libretto through hand gestures. What I quickly realized is that this way of telling a story is, for me, unimaginative dance making, as it relies on the lyrics to accomplish what could be done more dynamically through movement. So, as an alternative, I introduced asymmetry, raising everyone to their feet and moving the corps de ballet to the focal point as each character dances his or her argument. To an outsider, using asymmetry to embody conflict may seem as mundane a choice as using symmetry to embody calm. But in classical dance, which throughout its long history has been used to manifest the centrality, right and beneficence of authority, floor patterns are as rare as safe and sensible driving on the streets of Phnom Penh. Though Samritechak was well received for the most part, its formal innovations, including asymmetry,

imbalanced

Sophiline Cheam Shapiro

caused some dance authorities to call it ‘foreign’ and ‘weird’. 1 Such rhetoric is, of course, xenophobic, dismissive and, in the case of Samritechak, a reference to additional aspects of the project that made it somewhat threatening to those in positions of authority. I was born in Phnom Penh and was a member of the first to study classical dance after the fall of the Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge regime. I joined the faculty of the School of Fine Arts (Cambodia’s official performing arts conservatory) after where I, like my fellow dancers, participated in the patriotic exercise of legitimizing the the state by dancing dramas that celebrated hierarchy — dramas in which the lyrics were sometimes changed to replace royal characters with symbols of the current government — or simply by dancing on the government’s behalf. In 1991, I married an American and moved to California, where I studied other forms of performance along with dance ethnology. Eight years later, when I returned to set Samritechak on my former colleagues from the [now] Royal University of Fine Arts, I was arriving not as a faculty employee but as an individual artist to choreograph an original dance drama that resonates with my personal interest in the issues of inter-racial romance, xenophobia, misogyny, and the responsibility of leadership. Samritechak is adapted from William Shakespeare’s Othello, which I had read as a college student. What allowed me to imagine this Elizabethan tragedy as a classical dance drama were the parallels between the plight of the character Desdemona and that of Neang Seda, the heroine of the Reamker, Cambodia’s version of the Ramayana epic. Both are victims of their husband’s foolishness. Because I was living in the United States, where adaptations of Shakespeare are omnipresent, this idea failed to strike me as But when I arrived in Cambodia, I quickly realized I was wrong. Some people, inside the dance world and out, were offended by my choice to adapt a foreign story rather than a Cambodian

generation

graduation,

determined

controversial.

1 I use the term ‘authorities’ to refer to administrators in the Faculty of Choreographic Arts of the Royal University of Fine Arts and National School of Fine Arts and in the Department of Performing Arts (national theatre), as well as senior officials in the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, who have some measure of control over how the dancers and musicians who work for them transmit and present dance.

Dancing Off Centre

one. The fact that many classical dance dramas, including the Reamker, tell imported stories failed to pacify such complaints. Perhaps the residual impact of French colonialism made an import from Europe seem more offensive than one from India. Perhaps the fact that I, like this story, had arrived from the West inspired suspicion. In any case, I told these naysayers that they should feel fortunate that now we would have one more Cambodian story. Prior to my return to the Royal University of Fine Arts in 1999, the idea of an individual classical dance choreographer who makes dances as a response to the world in which she lives was unknown in Cambodia. No doubt creativity has been an aspect of the tradition since its birth, but as Cambodia has been, and still is, a somewhat feudal society (especially within the dance world), new dances have come into being as the result of commissions from those with official authority. For example, during the lively post-independence era of the 1950s and 1960s, Queen Kossomak Nearyroth commissioned many new dances. Though she was not a dancer herself, she is credited with having created these dances. In fact, master dancers from the palace created these new works (or rearranged older dances) under her direction with each master in charge of choreographing the movements for the roles in which she specialized. Not surprisingly, all of these dances celebrate the harmony of the heavens and the happiness of the Cambodian people bestowed, at least by inference, upon them by a wise, capable and compassionate central authority. Likewise, dances created under the socialist government in the early 1980s celebrated Marx and Lenin.2 I had no intention of undercutting official authority within the classical dance hierarchy when I conceived of Samritechak. In fact, I thought I was making a positive contribution toward it by helping in infusing the university with new energy and otherwise unavailable financial resources. Nevertheless, a commoner with no position of

essential

2 For example, Chea Samy created Robam Sarsaeur Tong Pak (Admiration for the Party Flag) in 1982. In 1982 as well, Him Nala created a dance for her high school diploma titled Sothik Sanya 18 Komphak (The Signing of the Treaty of 18 February), which celebrated an agreement between Cambodia and Vietnam.

Shir Ha-Shirim (choreographed by Sophiline Cheam Shapiro) Performers: Mot Pharan (left) and Sao Phirom of the Khmer Arts Ensemble. Photographer: Sophiline Cheam Shapiro

leadership in the government, ministry or school, who arrives with her own ideas and funding, demonstrates by default that art can be democratized and artist-focused. On top of that, rather than celebrating the virtues of the state, Samritechak casts a critical eye on the responsibility of leadership. (For example, in the final scene, Samritechak asks the body of his dead wife to punish him.) At least during my lifetime, Cambodian leaders have embraced impunity before responsibility. Consider the former leaders of the Khmer Rouge who are currently on trial. Each of them claims innocence and ignorance regarding the death of a quarter of the country’s population under his or her rule. During the creation of Samritechak, inevitable conflicts arose over who was in charge. It was my idea, choreography and funding, but I was using the government’s dancers (who, as employees of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, are civil servants), rehearsal space and costumes. Before long, however, an administrator at the school suggested that I should cease trying to collaborate with the ministry and instead conduct my project independently. In fact, this suggestion was unhelpful and dismissive; after all, who could’ve imagined a classical dance of any merit that was not set on the official dance troupe? I couldn’t — at least not yet. Over the course of seven years, I set three major works on the dancers and musicians of the Royal University of Fine Arts and the Department of Performing Arts and performed these works in Cambodia and abroad. Although each project was ultimately artistically and critically successful, the energy and patience required to survive these often confrontational collaborations became too taxing. Over the years, I was accused of damaging Cambodian national identity, threatened with lawsuits and by the police. My work was censored. By the middle of 2006, I decided the time had come to establish an independent professional classical dance company. More practical concerns led me to this decision as well. The best dancers, who are employees of the ministry, are in constant demand for performances and tours and often abandon one for a higher paying opportunity or one in service of a higher authority. Already limited rehearsal space became even scarcer after the ministry sold the remains of the burned national theatre and moved the performing arts campus of the Royal

investigated

commitment

University of Fine Arts to a difficult-to-reach location.3 So my own company would fulfil a dream common to just about any choreographer: having dancers and musicians trained in my style of performance who are available to me in a space and on a schedule of my choosing. The idea of decentralized classical dance is not entirely new. At various times during the past 100 years or more, the Governor of Battambang had his own troupe, as did French colonial and the military. 4 Following the collapse of the Khmer Rouge regime, former palace dancers established training and performance programmes in refugee camps along the Thai– Cambodian border. Their students then brought the dance with them to the communities around the world where they resettled. Ensembles emerged in several provinces throughout Cambodia and danced during the 1980s. Since the mid-1990s, orphanages, local associations and international organizations have been training children to dance. Hotels and restaurants, particularly in Siem Reap, have established troupes to perform for tourists as dinner entertainment. Nevertheless, as far as I know, no one had ever before created an independent, professional, classical dance company that creates and presents original concert dances on prominent stages throughout the world and performs these dances with a technical mastery that matches that of the national company. In January 2007, the Khmer Arts Ensemble signed year-long contracts with 31 dancers and musicians. I chose them by offering full-time positions to any artist who had been part of Pamina Devi, a concert-length dance drama I had premiered in Vienna a month earlier. Many of the government-employed dancers who were part of that cast decided not to risk their careers as civil servants by

establishing

administrators

3 The national theatre, which was named the Preah Saramarit Theater when it opened in 1965, was largely destroyed by a fire in 1994. Nevertheless, the Department of Performing Arts continued to use the remaining lobby and a shed behind the former stage for rehearsal and storage space until it was demolished by developers in 2008. 4 I recently learned that my great-grandfather, as a commune chief, kept his own lakhaon kaol (masked dance) troupe. Here is another example of how dance can serve as a symbol of authority and help legitimize the right to rule within Cambodian culture.

working with my new company. So I replaced them with recent graduates from the National School of Fine Arts. Before the year was up, most of the remaining government-employed dancers also left the Khmer Arts Ensemble in order to return to their positions with the Royal University of Fine Arts or Department of Performing Arts. Once again, I replaced them with unaffiliated dancers and musicians. I predicted that I would need a minimum of three years to train this relatively young company to dance in my style and with sufficient maturity. As far as rehearsal space went, I got lucky. My uncle, the artist and a former Minister of Culture, Chheng Phon, had built a centre for vipassana meditation upon his retirement in 1990. Its bucolic riverside campus, on two hectares near the village of Preakhou, about 11 kilometres south of central Phnom Penh, is filled with lush gardens and shimmering ponds. In 1999, at the very time I was returning to Cambodia in order to create Samritechak, he opened a highly ornamented pavilion-style theatre on the campus. For the next several years he presented dances there, staged playwriting competitions and held conferences. But his programming dissipated as he grew older and, by 2006, the theatre was largely unused. I asked him if I could rent it as a home for the Khmer Arts Ensemble, and he agreed. At first I was concerned about its location, as it presented a lengthy commute for many of the artists, but it has also turned out to be a blessing. The theatre is remote enough to avoid unwanted attention from those who might wish to interfere with our work and yet close enough to the capital for us to draw upon the city’s rich pool of talent. It’s a quiet place to practice and an exquisite venue in which to present our work. The Khmer Arts Ensemble gave its first public performance in July 2007, a programme called ‘Spirit House’ that presented an old sacred dance along with one of my original works in conjunction with an exhibition of sculptures by young local artists placed throughout our theatre and its grounds. The Ensemble made its overseas premiere at the Phillips Center for the Performing Arts at the University of Florida in September 2007 as part of a five-city USA tour of Pamina Devi. By the end of the tour, the company had congealed into a cohesive, though still young, troupe. Perhaps a more symbolic milestone, at least as far as our and musicians were concerned, was a concert the Ensemble gave in February 2008 as part of ‘Les Nuits d’Angkor’ in Siem Reap.

performing

dancers

The annual festival, which is produced by the French Cultural Centre, presents three nights of performances, with the programme split between an overseas troupe and Cambodian government artists. For the festival’s tenth anniversary, the French Cultural Centre asked us to participate. This was the first time a Cambodian troupe had been invited to perform. When asked about our inclusion, the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts responded with an emphatic ‘no’. After long they agreed to our participation on the condition that the festival remove our ensemble’s name from posters and other advertisements and use the colonial moniker Ballet Royal du Cambodge for all classical dance performances. They contended that because our artists had trained at their school, the artists still belonged to them and, therefore, our troupe was not legitimately our own. (To put this in perspective, imagine any other school claiming that it owned all of its graduates.) For the festival’s middle evening, we performed Seasons of a 40-minute dance I had set on the government’s and musicians in 2004 and toured in 2005. The stage was situated before Cambodia’s famed Angkor Wat, with the 20-storey temple lit as a stunning and dramatic backdrop. Our company performed well. In fact, it performed better than I had anticipated. While presenting the Khmer Arts Ensemble and myself with flowers and an envelope with a donation in it, a high-ranking representative of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts expressed surprise at the quality of our dancing and even, in his own way, regret for the trouble the ministry had caused me during the making of Pamina Devi. For the dancers and musicians of our company who had ambitions of careers as government-employed artists, this was a considerable triumph, especially because of its location. Angkor Wat is Cambodia’s single most important cultural symbol (its image is on the national flag), and the dance traces its origins through imagery and inscriptions on this and other sandstone temples of the region. Even if the Ensemble’s artists were now dancing askew of central authority, they had proven their ability to equal or surpass the quality of those who performed in its and they did so on the central authority’s most highly prized real estate.

nongovernmental

negotiations’

Migration, dancers

abandoned

service,

Over time, many of those with whom I’ve had conflicts have become used to my and my company’s full-time presence and come to terms with it. After all, most of them have known me for almost 30 years. We share a common history and love of performance. I am a product of the same institutions they represent. If the institutions of authority within Cambodian dance can be seen as something like a star, then I am a satellite, orbiting elliptically around them. Sometimes my orbit brings me close enough to overheat, and other times it takes me to isolated places very, very far away. Two recent projects, which premiered in 2008, fall on the farthest point of my orbit so far. The Cambodian American New Music composer Chinary Ung and I were commissioned by the Los Angeles Master Chorale, a large American choir known for its innovative programming, to create an original dance and music work to be performed by the Master Chorale and the Khmer Arts Ensemble at the architecturally iconic Disney Concert Hall. I used this rare opportunity to stretch my choreographic imagination and create a dance that exists outside of the Cambodian classical idiom. After all, even though Ung’s music is classical in the Western sense, it is not pin peat, the traditional percussive form to which classical dance is performed. Setting a strictly classical dance to it made little sense to me. After consulting with the composer, I decided to take an more commonly practiced by Javanese choreographers than Cambodians. I deconstructed the classical dance form, it from its orthodoxy in costuming, gestural vocabulary, pacing, and, as mentioned above, music. Of particular relevance to this article is my approach towards the body. In classical dance, vertical balance is perfection. Though the dancer mimics the curvilinear shape of a serpent through her bent fingers, elbows, arched back, bent knees, and curled-up toes, she remains, for the most part, perfectly erect. If you look at a photograph of a classical dancer from the front, you should be able to draw a straight line down the centre of her head and body. That centredness is another reflection of an aesthetic that celebrates symmetry and centrality. In this new work, though, I am allowing my dancers’ centre of gravity to migrate away from the vertical just as rice stalks lean with a breeze. As do those wind-blown stalks, my dancers will eventually return to the centre before shifting again.

Cambodian

approach liberating hyperextended

If my experimental choreography bends the traditional aesthetic, it never breaks it. An even farther reaching commission had me set a quartet to a vocal interpretation of the Old Testament’s Song of Songs by the composer John Zorn. For the first time, I choreographed to music that’s composed neither by a Cambodian nor is Cambodian in instrumentation or melody. The project was also distinctly for me in scale. Most of my works involve casts of 20 or more. Here I created a chamber piece performed by four dancers to the music of seven vocalists. The size of the ensemble is appropriate because of the theme and the venue. The Peter B. Lewis Theater of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York City, with a small stage and seating for about 285, is intimate. I used this opportunity to stretch my capacity to communicate on a more human scale because my characters are not, for once, gods or monarchs. They’re lovers consumed with the power of their passions and bodies and unconcerned with the powers in heaven or on the throne. These two robam boran chh’nai dances premiered in two landmark buildings: Frank Gehry’s Disney Concert Hall and Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim Museum.5 Each building stands out among its staid neighbours not only for its extraordinary beauty but also for its deliberate attempt to expand the expressive of architecture. Many people who are familiar with the arts and architecture in Cambodia might describe Gehry’s and Lloyd Wright’s bold experimentation as distinctly American or Western in contrast to Cambodia’s preference for the quaint and traditional. Though I understand why someone might come to this conclusion in today’s seemingly reactionary environment, I think it’s wrong. When I have strolled through Phnom Penh’s National Museum or Paris’s Musée Guimet, I’ve been struck by the rapidly changing styles of Angkorian antiquities. Within the era, sculptors developed new ways of making the divine incarnate as they struggled toward aesthetic and spiritual perfection. During the post-independence era, Cambodian architecture, theatre,

different

vocabulary

5 ‘Robam kbach boran’ is the Cambodian term for classical dance. Here I use ‘robam boran chh’nai’, which might be translated as ‘modified classical dance’. However, this is an inelegant translation and so I will use the Cambodian until I find a more elegant English term.

dance, music, and filmmaking flourished in an environment of hope, energy and imagination. So I believe Cambodians can be as inventive as any people on earth. Creativity isn’t exclusively the domain of the outside world. Nevertheless, the fact that these two dances premiered in the USA rather than in Cambodia is significant. I’m a product of both environments. While my aesthetic foundation is set in the classical dance tradition, my cosmopolitan understanding of the arts comes from the educational and artistic opportunities that I took advantage of and the financial support I’ve received in the USA. We have an expression: ‘A mother can take care of 10 children, but 10 children cannot take care of their mother.’ In one sense, I’m a child of the dance who is doing her best to take care of her mother. In another sense, I’m mother to a company of young artists who need to see the dance as artist-focused and to use it imaginatively and articulately if they are going to carry my work into the future. In order for that to happen, I must train them to do so — simply serving as a potential role model is insufficient. That’s why, in addition to studying classical technique, artist development is an integral part of the Ensemble’s training regimen. Each week we dedicate time to attend lectures, exhibitions and performances. Our artists are asked to respond to what they see and then articulate that response. They also participate in studio workshops in everything from contact improvisation to Balinese dance. Outside of the arts, they participate in workshops on subjects as wide-ranging as Cambodian history and reproductive health. In 2009, we have introduced courses in ethnology, dance history and choreography. In a sense, this approach attempts to condense my 15 years of experience outside of Cambodia into something more succinct and practical. Twenty years ago, nobody, including myself, would’ve predicted the trajectory of my career. Likewise, when I look at my students, I have no idea which ones will become the next generation of groundbreaking or capable teachers. With luck, some of them will take what’s been made available to them and use it to make and wonderfully unpredictable art. In turn, I hope 20 years from now they’ll take what they’ve learned and teach it to their students.

choreographers transcendent

Since returning to Cambodia in order to choreograph Samritechak, I’ve established a position for myself within the practice and performance of Cambodian dance that has enough of a connection to its spiritual authority to inspire me to aim for the sublime, yet is far enough from those who wish to interfere with my work to provide me sufficient freedom to flourish. Sometimes, in my world anyway, it’s good to be off centre. Sophiline Cheam Shapiro is a choreographer, dancer, vocalist, and educator whose groundbreaking original dances, which she has set on Cambodia’s finest performing artists, have toured to major stages across three continents. Her honours for lifetime achievement include the USA’s National Heritage Fellowship and Japan’s Nikkei Asia Prize for Culture. Among other awards, she has received Creative Capital, Durfee, Guggenheim, and Irvine Dance Fellowships. Born in Phnom Penh, Cheam Shapiro was a member of the first generation to graduate from the Royal University of Fine Arts (RUFA) after the fall of Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge, and was a member of the faculty from 1988 to 1991. With the RUFA ensemble she toured India, the Soviet Union, the USA, and Vietnam. She studied dance ethnology at UCLA at undergraduate and graduate levels, and is co-founder and artistic director of Khmer Arts, dual-based in Long Beach, USA and Takhmao, Cambodia (www. KhmerArts.org). Cheam Shapiro’s essays have appeared in Children of Cambodia’s Killing Fields: Memoirs by Survi vors (Yale Univer sity Press, 1997), Dance, Human Rights & Social Justice: Dignity in Motion (Scarecrow Press, 2008), and Dances and Identities: from Bombay to Tokyo (Centre national de la danse, 2009) among other publications.

9 Platforms for Change: Cambodia and Contemporary Dance from the Asia—Pacifc Region Stephanie Burridge Watching a dance performance in the Asia-Pacific region can involve a complex of threads and pathways into cultural traditions and heritages. Artists are incorporating a diversity of movement languages, dance philosophies, techniques, and narratives that interweave in divergent lines around the region. Choreographers work through their embodied cultural ‘memories’ and multiple dance traditions — these often coexist and merge with Western contemporary dance forms. Dance around the region is moving rapidly with a creative confidence that is stimulating audiences and revitalizing an interest in the genre of contemporary dance in the region and beyond. The challenge in the global village is to facilitate dance opportunities that link histories and communal cultural knowledge with new creative explorations led by individual artists. To support dancers, choreographers and production teams through a sustained period of creative development is a demanding task that needs resources and time. Historically, dance has had an important function as a that expresses and celebrates the rituals of life and death and contact with the spiritual world. Largely, it could be argued, that this function has been lost in terms of dance performances in the Western world. While the traditional dances from Cambodia are being passed on diligently by the few remaining masters who

continuum

StephanieBurridge

survived the genocide of the Pol Pot regime, a new generation of young dancers are eager to move forward. While they are of their heritage, there is a desire to choreograph dance that reflects the contemporary world in which they live. How do they embrace new forms and create their own dance languages while still honouring the past? What options are there and what processes should they use? Where should they look for guidance — the East or the West? The development of new Asian movement vocabularies arise from working within the traditions and philosophies that the region encompasses. For instance, artistic director and of Cloud Gate Dance Theatre, Lin Hwai-min, works with t’ai chi as both a training method for the dancers and as creative inspiration. It incorporates breathing, control, stillness, and the ability to rise and fall without effort achieved through centering the torso and locating the inner core energy, qi. Bhutto, with its notion of the ‘empty body’, greatly appealed to the artistic of Japan that strove to find identity away from Western models. There are many other examples like Kathakali and Odissi, dance forms from India, or the traditions of Chinese opera that weave through many countries in the region — all have contributed to the development of unique Asian movement vocabularies. Choreographers in the East have not only explored these languages, but they have been adapted to and synthesized by many Western choreographers.

appreciative

choreographer

community

movement Contemporary Dance in the Global Village

The new dance of this millennium is grounded in multiple cultural identities and it is these complexities that throw out new and often perplexing challenges to audiences. Controversial themes, unusual movements, complete stillness, the grotesque … all of these elements can occur in a contemporary dance performance. It is an art form that has been pushing boundaries and stretching imaginations for over a century. The need to explore, express, surprise, and push the conventional norms of society all make up the genre of what is termed ‘contemporary dance’. It is perhaps harder to define than ever before as companies continue to what were once the polarities of classical and modern dance.

synthesize

Performers: Left Hem

Sovannahong —

Chen Chansoda (2008) Anders Jiras

Linda; Right

Photographer:

—

There are many commonalities between Oriental and

Occidental contemporary dance. For instance, the artists share the knowledge that the body is a powerful means of dialogue that transcends

verbal language — through embodiment; it encapsulates signs and symbols of place and belief. Asian artists work from a basis of unique classical and folk dance traditions that they might with the study of ballet or modern dance from Europe or the USA. Many also include training in yoga, martial arts, qi gong, and work in a multi-disciplinary manner — for example, it would be unheard of to practice the intricacies of Bharata Natyam, one of the eight classical Indian dance forms, without live musical accompaniment. Like all dance makers, Asian choreographers search to find a unique voice in concept and movement vocabulary. ‘Contemporization’ is a trend within the region and the diaspora, with immigrants working within both their embodied resources and the dance of the country they have moved to, such as British choreographer of Bangladeshi heritage Akram Khan who explores his cultural heritage in works such as Ma (2004). Redefining cultural roots and developing new pedagogy and training is another path; for example, Lin Hwai-min’s exploration of t’ai chi movement inspired a new dance aesthetic. These approaches are thorough, intense and occur with focus and confidence. The creative development takes many years and must be supported logistically, financially and artistically.

combine

The East and West of Contemporary Dance Recognizing some of the differences that commonly occur in choreography from the East and the West can help in understanding the emergent dance from the region. These differences include the personal interests of the artists, their training, choreographic process, and performance practices. Contemporary choreographers from Cambodia are grappling with all of these issues and their perseverance will be the genesis of new dance from the country. From the East one can term a set of circumstances that embody the process as extrinsic — or beyond the self. In Cambodia, there is an urgency to preserve the classical dances before the remaining teachers pass on — the young dancers often have an overwhelming sense of responsibility towards this. Cambodian dancers work within the framework of tradition, cultural heritage, spiritual and family values and they also study within a ‘master teacher’ system.

Platforms for Change

Their dance heritage includes folklore and classical dancers that have an essential function in the society. There is a sense of in performance and essentially the group is important rather than the individual in Asian dance — for instance, the are used to learning the steps unquestioningly from a master teacher rather than working on choreography where their and input is expected. Another aspect is that the luxury to create outside of tradition may only be accessible to the rich — potential performance spaces, gaining an audience for unfamiliar forms and economic factors all play a part in what is eventually seen and what is sustainable. Such economic factors can also limit access to training, attending performances, classes and workshops that might inspire ideas and new directions. Amrita Performing Arts (Cambodia) recount this restraint in very real terms:

community dancers collaboration

… The Royal University of Fine Arts and the Secondary School of Fine Art’s home for the performance faculties known as the North Campus since the end of the Khmer Rouge recently fell victim to a massive land deal and is now being converted into a shopping mall. The new campus has been in operation since early 2006. There is one enormous drawback in that the new campus is seven kilometers further outside the city; many students and teachers cannot afford the extra amount of petrol needed to cover the greater distance so consequently there has been a severe drop out rate. The new campus includes a theater but we (Amrita) are not yet presenting performances there because of the difficulty in getting audiences to travel the distance so for now most of our performances are taking place at the Chenla Theater — a central, but expensive, location ... 1

In contrast, Western dancers have fewer restrictions although the financial factor is certainly a consideration for many in their decision to pursue studies in the performing arts. Otherwise, while they may still forge strong bonds with a particular teacher or a dance school, they feel the expectations of family, community or even their country; the choices available to them are diverse. They are able to pursue dance according to their personal interests and abilities. Here the notion of the individual, rather than the community, influences the motivation, context and intention of working in contemporary dance — it is an intrinsic process. 1 Amrita Performing Arts, www.amritaperformingarts.org.

Performers: From left

—

Khmeropedies II Sodhachivy, Sam Sathya, Phon Sopheap choreographed by Emmanuèle Phuon (2009) Photographer: Marina Cox Chumvan

and

Chey Chankethya;

Pedagogy Intense dance training underpins explorations into contemporary dance anywhere in the world. The body must be tuned, prepared and disciplined to create lucid movement plus have the facility and stamina to rehearse. In performance, the dancer needs to be physically articulate to define the intention of the plus have the virtuosity and vitality to give energy to a performance. A guru, or dance master, is deeply revered in Asia and young dancers in many countries of the region learn traditional dance through this rigorous approach. For instance, on a visit to Ubud, Bali, I watched a master teacher pass on his wisdom to a group of 70 young dancers — it was an inspiring sight. For an hour, the young dancers assembled silently in neat rows and watched while through calm gestures, using a very quiet voice, an old man passed on the stories of the dances. Exquisitely dressed in their practice sarongs with their hair neatly tied back and their shoes placed carefully at the entrance to the temple, the children sat transfixed. A number of senior dance professionals demonstrated the steps and then they joined in the class by following the intricate pathways of the arms, head and feet whilst maintaining complex transfers of weight from foot to foot. Heads were pushed into place, fingers bent backwards into seemingly impossible positions, bodies constructed into the unfamiliar positions of the legong. Similarly, in Cambodia, children start at a young age and hone their skills in the same way. Hours of practice over many years are needed to develop the strength and flexibility to achieve the complex postures and gestures of classical dance. This requires stringent disciplining of the body, mind and spirit. Only a handful of dancers achieve perfection in the classical forms — each has endured the sacrifices that becoming a professional entails. It is such training in a particular form that becomes the embodied identity of each dancer — the ‘giant’, ‘monkey’ or ‘female role’, for instance. In Phnom Penh, the Royal University of Fine Arts and the Secondary School of Fine Arts are the schools for professional dance training. Although the class situation in the West may seem the same for some dancers, by comparison there is an enormous spectrum of training options for Western dance students to choose from.

choreographer

cultural

Tertiary training academies abound with courses that include ballet, contemporary dance plus a myriad other options such as tap, hip hop, ethnic forms, salsa, and Broadway. Improvisation and composition are also the norm along with theory subjects such as aesthetics, criticism and dance history. This rich, eclectic mix reinforces the notion of the self as the centre of the training and is a system where individual skills are encouraged and the dancer prepared for a smorgasbord of dance industry options both locally and internationally. This sort of eclectic training is in its early stages in many Asian countries although places such as Hong Kong, South Korea and Taiwan are well established and offer a range of tertiary dance training courses with international connections to major universities around the world. For many dancers from the Asia-Pacific region, working with tradition is a constant challenge. Respect for the form and the master teachers are fundamental. Learning the vocabulary and nuances of each dance is time-consuming — there are no easy pathways to follow. Once arriving at a point where one considers oneself a professional in a particular form, contemporary may be an impossible task for most. For dancers who want to experiment and push some boundaries, going outside their cultural modality may be the only means that will allow them to work creatively. Methods that are commonly used to inspire creativity in the West are uncommon in many places. These include the ‘workshop’ process, contact improvisation and collaborative exploration and creativity. Some influences filter through over time as dancers have the opportunity to attend choreographic workshops or a tertiary dance college elsewhere. In Cambodia, the careful selection of visiting teachers and choreographers that are sensitive to this situation has achieved some significant by collaborating with the emerging dancers and Other chapters in this book present some of these issues and many of the artists interviewed speak directly about their and aspirations in discovering contemporary dance.

trajectories

projects choreographers. experiences Movement Vocabulary

One of the most obvious differences in dances from the East and the West is the origin of the impulse for the movement. Dancers from Asian countries, including Cambodia, place great emphasis

on gestural vocabulary incorporating complex, detailed

movements for the eyes, hands and head — traditionally, the story of

the dance is embodied here. Often the feet work in measured steps and distinctive postures occur that allow the narrative to unfold through the extremities of the torso. Although there are rhythmic passages and sudden shifts in the dynamics, the predominant tempo is serene. In contrast, Western contemporary dancers initiate their from the centre of the body. Modern dance claims its origins in the barefoot, free expression of American-born dancer Isadora Duncan — a charismatic performer who shocked and delighted audiences with her barefoot dancing, free flowing robes, simple steps, and personal expression. Appearing in Europe at the end of the nineteenth century, she represented a stark contrast to the restraints of the world of classical ballet with its codified steps, pointed shoes, romantic stories, and tutus. This was paralleled by restrictions for women in society and acted as a catalyst for the early twentieth century female choreographers who laid the for modern dance — they embraced the need for freedom, whole body expression and both a political and artistic voice. They included Mary Wigman, Doris Humphrey and Martha Graham who presented dramatic, expressionistic choreography. Later trends, led initially by Merce Cunningham, saw the emergence of a new wave of choreographers interested in the body in space alone without stories, plots or drama. In the 1960s, postmodernists such as Yvonne Rainer, Lucinda Childs and Steve Paxton moved away from the notion of fixed steps, companies and repertoire, leading to abstract works by dancer/choreographers who made intensely personal statements. They worked within the restraints of the unique qualities of their own bodies and responded to the of their personal world. Restrictions were few and could push existing boundaries as far as they dared. Postmodernism opened the door to many kinds of diversity — for example dancers and non-dancers collaborating, able and disabled dancers working together, non-gender-specific dance (women lifting women, men lifting men, for instance), dance occurring in many different locations, and site-specific work. There was intense questioning of the essence of dance performance. Existentialism and phenomenological approaches to choreography coexisted

movement

foundations

concerns choreographers

with the more familiar canons of contemporary dance and classical ballet. The philosophy of contemporary dance changed, leading to an explosion of creative ideas and synergies within the genre. can now expect the unexpected in a contemporary dance performance of the new millennium. Street dance, classical ballet, contemporary vocabularies, acrobatics, and a plethora of new influences from around the world like Brazilian capoeira and salsa may all meet on stage in a single choreographed work. While the language of contemporary dance is continually evolving, of the twenty-first century are typically exploring concepts that include new technologies, interdisciplinary approaches and incorporate global exchanges. This type of dance ‘scene’ is almost inconceivable to most young Cambodian dancers yearning for change and wanting to move towards a freer form of personal expression. Bodies are not trained to move freely, minds are not trained to explore within the self and the spirit carries the responsibility to honour the past. Methodologies and processes for experimentation, improvisation, workshopping and intuitive movement does not exist in a system that has relied on passing on the dance, step by step, through the dance masters.

Audiences

choreographers

Philosophical and Contextual Differences Some of the differences that occur between contemporary dances created by Eastern and Western choreographers are also evident in complex philosophical and contextual ways. The function of the court dancers from Cambodia, for example, is to perform for the royal family. Facing forward without turning the back and working in a lateral spatial plane is an element in all court dancing, East and West. Stages are generally small and the intricate, heavy costumes and weight of the headdresses restrict the movement through space. The purpose of the dance is to reinforce the order of life and affirm the traditions of the culture — to act as a link from the present to the past. The intention is deeply respectful. Traditional dancers are also for ritual purposes, or to re-enact the stories of epic dramas such as the Ramayana — a tale that is reinterpreted from India, to Bali, Thailand, Cambodia and beyond. It continues to be revisited and interrogated by both Oriental and Occidental arts practitioners through film, drama, dance, and art throughout the world. The intricacies of the storyline

prevailing

metaphorically relate the universal aspects of human frailty such as the struggle between good and evil, weakness and power, lust and greed, the masculine and the feminine, and the search for the soul. Cambodian folk dance themes often reflect the daily activities of people’s lives such as fishing and planting, while many of the dancers for tourists involve representations of the Apsara, or celestial beings that are immortalized in the stone friezes of Angkor Wat. Traditionally, these ‘celestial’ dancers ritually link the heavenly and earthly realms of the universe. The context is embodied in the medium of dance. Two performances, one from China and the other Australian, can give an insight into the context of the choreography. The first works within the traditions of Chinese dance and the second is a contemporary dance performance that uses chaos as Jué Aware, created and performed by mother and daughter Gao Yanjinzi and Luo Lili of the Beijing Modern Dance explores the traditional and contemporary lives of the two protagonists through dance. The narrative basis of Lou Lili’s traditionally-based dance movement contained small, disciplined gestures that were mainly expressed through the hands and face. This contrasted with the emotionally-driven expression shown through the large, freer movements in the contemporary dance language of Gao Yanjinzi. The only thing that extended the dynamics of the mother were the sweeping circles of very fast small steps and use of the elongated traditional sleeves that danced in waves and circles. The daughter flung herself relentlessly in outpourings of anger, frustration and rebellion against her mother and the restrictions of the culture and society she represented. The uncontrolled, flaying movements, where she tossed her limbs freely in extravagant dance movements, were a stark to the contained vocabulary of the folk dance tradition of her mother.2 By way of a complete contrast, Australian choreographer Lucy Guerin worked within the structures of postmodernism in her work titled Aether. She created a dance based around the themes of a new world order ruled by technology, media barrages and chaos. In front of an evocative projection the dancers flicked,

contrasting

inspiration. Company,

contrast

2 Jué Aware, Beijing Modern Dance Company, Esplanade Theatre Studio, 2008.

jerked, shuffled, and posed, representing communication waves; occasionally they opened out into superb arabesques and a few extended dance phrases. Most of the time, however, they kept to themselves, creating an introspective, dysfunctional world that seemed beyond their control.3 What these two pieces have in common is the training of the body — in traditional Chinese and contemporary dance — as a tool for the choreographer. Unlike most forms of traditional dance from both the East and the West, contemporary dancers work exclusively within a concept and theme. The choreography is not intended to be a means to show virtuosic dance technique. This contextual and philosophical shift is difficult to overcome for dancers who have spent years training to perfect the finest detail of movement to ‘show’ the audience as they perform their dances. At present, the choreography and artistic collaborations coming from Cambodia have a story to tell. Some works speak both and gesturally about the genocide4 and the rebuilding of the arts. Others seek to make links and connections to cultural heritage through the origins of the movement, for instance the Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants 5 dance workshop project produced by Cambodian and Thai artists, and based on the Cambodian Lakhaon Kaol. This delving into cultural history is explored with invention and reinterpretation — the roots of the dance and the stories are explored and these intersect with new interpretations that tangent off and fragment into elements expressed through new vocabulary with nuanced meanings. While these works are thematically overlaid with familiar stories, pioneering Cambodian choreographer Sophiline Cheam Shapiro

performed

verbally

contemporary

3 Aether, Lucy Guerin Inc (Australia), Esplanade Theatre Studio, 2007. 4 3 Years, 8 Months, 20 Days, a new play directed by the renowned Dutch director Annemarie Prins, depicting the lives of three actresses during the Khmer Rouge regime. The piece premiered in February 2006 and was performed at the 2007 Singapore International Arts Festival. 5 Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants, a contemporary dance workshop and showcase produced by Cambodian and Thai artists, and based on the Kaol masked dance form. It was initiated by Amrita and the Department of Dramatic Arts of Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok Thailand, and sponsored by the Prince Claus Foundation. This groundbreaking work premiered in Phnom Penh in April 2005 and was part of the opening event of the opening of the new National Museum of Singapore in December 2006.

Cambodian

has explored Western plots in Samritechak,6 her adaptation of Shakespeare’s Othello, and Pamina Devi,7 an adaptation of Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute.

Choreographic Structures Although the globalization of culture has had a profound impact, many of the regional dance languages in the Asia–Pacific have not only survived but are thriving and evolving. Rather than being unique narratives, histories and social concerns with traditionally inspired movement vocabularies are a rich source of creativity for the emerging choreographers. use imagery that is metaphoric, symbolic and iconic and also incorporates their epistemic and empathetic paths of In this amalgam dance traditions are embodied, codified, constructed, and deconstructed into new forms of expression. The context is ultimately the body in place, space and time.8

suppressed, combined Choreographers knowledge. Time

In many Asian countries, cultural dance forms used for ritual purposes often last many hours or even days; in this context, a performance to a contemporary black box theatre and a 70 minute or so time frame may prove difficult. Timing the scenes such that the concept unfolds in a logical scenario so the intention is clear can be a challenging process for the choreographer. Thus, ‘time’ in this sense can refer to both the immediacy of the dynamic at a particular moment in the dance or the length of the entire performance. In terms of the use of energy, rhythm and dynamism in the movement, Asian dancers appear to work largely within the restraints of tempos that relate to the traditional dance forms they have studied — this would be termed ‘bound flow’ rather than ‘free flow’. However, it is dangerous to generalize about what seems

confining

6 The production toured to the 2002 Hong Kong Arts Festival, to the United States in 2003 and to the 2003 Venice Biennale Festival with Peter Sellars as artistic director. 7 The work was commissioned by the New Crowned Hope Festival in Vienna under the artistic direction of Peter Sellars where it made its world premiere in December 2006. 8 Categories refer to the movement analysis work of Rudolf Laban.

to be a tendency towards a ‘bound flow’ quality in Eastern dance without further examining many other issues that come into play during the creative process

contemporary

Weight In dance terms, this often refers to the energy given to particular moments, phrases and sections of the choreography. Asian have been at the forefront of exploring new dynamics through incorporating the vocabulary and philosophies of Eastern genres such as yoga and t’ai chi. As previously mentioned, in Taiwan, artistic director of Cloud Gate Dance Theatre, Lin Hwaimin, has evolved a training method for his dancers based in t’ai chi. In his choreography Moon Water (1998), he extends this inspiration and incorporates gestural phrases, resulting in a poetic, ‘liquid’ dance that is organic, exuding serenity, beauty and powerful energy. The movement is initiated from many parts of the body, for instance, an elbow, the shoulders or the chin. Like Lin Hwai-min, many Asian choreographers recognize that dancers from the East and the West have different bodies and are eager to create for the ‘Asian body’. Sumatran choreographer Boi Sakti continues to imbue his creations with new vocabulary based on his study of traditional Javanese dance and the martial art form pencak silat. In his 2007 work JAMUAN Bisu ... PARAdis e ...?9 he created a new movement vocabulary, for instance, by combining a deep bending of the knees with light, intricate gestures of the arms and impossibly flexible hip rotations. The dancers metaphorically created a harmony between the earth and the sky, dreams and realities, power and spirituality.

choreographers

Space A Singapore contemporary dance company, Ah Hock and Peng Yu, established by Khek Ah Hock and Ix Wong in 2003, has a mission to rebuild ‘intrinsic movement sensibilities’ — to be accessible through public performances and be relevant to by utilizing everyday contexts, concerns and imagery as themes.10 While conceptually probing the Singapore psyche,

audiences

9 JAMUAN Bisu ... PARAdis e ... ? Choreography Gerard Mosterd and Boi Sakti, University Cultural Centre Hall, 2007. 10 Stephanic Burridge, article for Esplanade Diary 2003.

their identity also evolved through creating movement vocabulary not only informed by training in Western dance techniques, but also through the exploration of the body in small spaces that are the inherent spatial restrictions of Singapore. Rather than seeing rehearsing at his home in a small space as a restriction, for example, it provided an opportunity to choreograph through an empathetic approach to space. Limited and defined use of both the available space and the vertical space could be a hallmark of Asian choreography. An aesthetic that is concerned with detail is better ‘read’ up close and small movements may define the ideas more appropriately than the flung, and freer, movement of much of Western contemporary dance that is based on release and whole body techniques typically created in large studio spaces. It is perhaps an overused generalization that Asian artists are attracted to symmetry. However, there may be two important factors that support this notion that is reinforced in classical dance and the visual arts from many countries in Asia. The first is the logistics of performance that required royal court dancers to face the front and not turn their backs when performing for the centrally placed kings and queens — this required them to move in a lateral plane in symmetrical patterns in order to the group in the available space on a small stage. The centre also represents power and authority — this has a complex of symbolic implications for state, ritual and religious purposes. In many indigenous cultures the circle is a recurring figure in dance — the religions of the East also include the circle as a symbol of harmony and unity. For instance, Tibetan mandalas, the Hindu Wheel of Life11 and the yin/yang of Taoism all symbolically use a circle in a complex of meanings about the cosmos. In the classical dances of Cambodia, those performed by the Apsara (half woman, half goddess) represent the state between heaven and earth. In this sense, there is a spiritual ‘filling’ of the vertical space although the dancers remain on the ground. The lightness of the movement and the incorporation of circulatory

accommodate

11 Cheryl Stock, ‘The Interval Between …The Space Between … Concepts of Time and Space in Asian Art and Performance’, in Urmimala Sarkar Munsi

(ed.), Time and Space in Asian Context: Contemporary Dance in Asia, West Bengal: World Dance Alliance, 2003, pp. 21–22.

patterns give the dance a sense of a journey. A common feature of dance from Asia is this sense of a journey — it is reinforced through movements that are mainly within the personal kinesphere of the dancer and include contained emotion, narrative storylines and some kind of emergence, enlightenment or ‘rebirth’ at the end. This reflects the Buddhist road to enlightenment and it is impossible to assess how much of this extremely generalized scenario is embodied in the dancers and the psyche of the choreographer. Flow

In all creativity, a flow occurs between the many elements in a non-lineated process. Western contemporary dance forms typically encourage flow between the movements and emphasize the transitions between moments. This refers, in particular, the fall and recovery work pioneered by Doris Humphrey, and the currently popular release techniques stress the spaces ‘in-between’. Off centre positions, falls to the floor, transitional weight exchanges, and sustained movement rather than held positions and lifts are all part of this vocabulary. These elements have become the of Western contemporary dance. Conversely, Western classical ballet tends to focus on the arrival points of the movement in order to display virtuosic poses, high leaps, pirouettes, and the skills of the dancers. Often a simple walk or a run connects these positions. Traditional dance from the Asia–Pacific region are perhaps more akin to the conventions of the ballet in terms of flow. In Oriental dance genres including Khmer classical dance, the mobilizing of the hips with the knees slightly bent is important, as this posture allows for a central base from which energy and movement can flow equally upwards or downwards, creating a tension of balance. The need to maintain a stable position while the extremities of the upper body tell the narrative of the dance means that maintaining a deep plié position with feet apart is common. For instance, one of the eight classical forms of Indian dance, Odissi, incorporates the basic postures of the chowk (or square) and the tribhang (the three bends of the body). While there are intricate rhythms and steps for the feet and some jumps and spins, all movement emanates form these fixed body postures. For dancers trained in the Eastern forms of classical dance, achieving the flow of Western contemporary work is often difficult.

fundamentals

several

Not only are the sensations of falling and releasing unfamiliar, the notion of moving through, rather than precisely with, the music, is challenging.

Representational Forms Traditional classical dance and indigenous dance from the Asia– Pacific region are alive with symbolism and metaphor. These can all be seen in the dancers’ representations of gods, animals, mythical beings and the characters from the great epics of the regions such as the Ramayana. While the narratives of the dance are descriptive, a complexity of meaning is embodied within every hand and eye gesture, every posture and sequence of movement. The dancers are superb mimics and are trained to perform the characters of the epics with clarity; audiences are also trained to recognize the various attributes of each and the ability of the dancer to bring these to life in their rendition of the role. Symbolic and iconic imagery is portrayed through mimetic and metonymic gestures in a dance language where metaphors abound and complex meanings are navigated. Symbolism, metaphor and the combination of gestures and movement that extends to abstracted sequences of ‘pure’ dance make up dance choreography in any culture. However, in Western contemporary dance, meaning may come in different ways rather than via a predominately descriptive, narrative approach. The search for self-expression through creating new imagery, personal metaphors and symbol systems is a confronting task for the new choreographers of the Asia–Pacific region. Audiences are also challenged by performances that strip away at the expectations of the content of a performance. Rather than watching an age-old narrative unfold and the pleasure of watching something that is a repetition of a familiar dance, audiences may be unsure of how to view contemporary dance. What is the context, or even, what is it for? These are some of the issues facing dance makers in countries such as Cambodia. It may be significant to note that both the dancers and many of the productions have sought performance platforms overseas to show their work.

Performance In the East, the group dynamic is important, reinforcing the notion of community and teamwork. In this context, synchronization

is important and the mastery of set phrases and movements fundamental to a successful performance. Individualism and selfexpression may be encouraged in solo dancers but only in the context of playing a role. An exception would be in the case of rituals involving trance and revelatory experiences — here, the dancer is seen as a medium (or shaman) who links the spiritual world to the mundane. The platform for dance in the Asia–Pacific region is vast, ranging from performances in densely populated global cities to small villages and communities. Regional performances may be specialized and recognizable reflecting the identity of the region; in larger cities, diversity and hybridization occur in all aspects of life, including dance. The individualism that occurs in Western contemporary dance sits more comfortably in the latter context.

Conclusion Dance artists from Cambodia are negotiating their place in the Asia–Pacific region and joining the dynamic evolution and that is contemporary Asian dance. Much of this article has dealt in somewhat general terms about what may be perceived as differences between dance from the East and the West, the and the contemporary elements of dance. The notion of a personal creative voice incorporating an individually conceived movement vocabulary is an exciting, and brave, for the emerging choreographers of Cambodia. What is interesting about the current generation of artists from the Asia–Pacific region is their ability to work with tradition, rebuild, invent, and make unique dance statements about their experiences; they create from personal stories, utilizing training in both Eastern and Western dance forms, thus bringing in fresh When regional artists are assertive and assured in their message the art form begins to grow and take on a unique identity. Confidence, combined with excellent teaching to both train the body and develop technique, makes articulate dancers who can embody the ideas of the new generation of choreographers. Innovations in movement vocabulary come about through a deeprooted personal understanding of tradition. Rather than simply exploiting the East and the West in a convergence of styles, those at the edge of the platform of change use imagination to build, select, reinvent, redefine and restate their identity, giving unique creative voices to their ideas.

diversity

classical developing opportunity approaches.

The healing role of the arts and the empowerment of peoples through creative expression cannot be ignored as an element in the cultural renaissance occurring in Cambodia. In this fragile cultural landscape where so much has been lost, dialogue and respect for the distinctiveness of tradition is a powerful means of negotiating the way ahead. Recent developments in choreography in Cambodia reflect a careful, but sustained, approach towards the creative of contemporary dance. Like the contemporary dance in the West, individuals have led this movement and inspired others to follow their path. Coupled with this development have been careful directions from organizations like Amrita Arts that have chosen artists to come in to work with young, impressionable dancers. The Asia–Pacific region is rich in multiple identities and unique creative paths that contemporary choreographers have managed to negotiate in partnership with existing, and revisited, traditions. Cambodian contemporary dance artists are an important part of the dynamism of the region — the developments over the next few years will be anticipated and welcomed into the canon of new dance of the millennium.

development

Performing

Stephanie Burridge trained at the Laban Center (UK), holds a BA in Anthropology/Arts History (Australian National University) and a PhD in Contemporary Dance from London Contemporary Dance School in association with the University of Kent (UK). As artistic director of Canberra Dance Theatre (1978–2001), she commissioned many of Australia’s leading choreographers, composers, visual artists, and performers. She was awarded the first Choreographic Fellowship at the Australian Choreographic Centre, an ACT Lifetime Achievement award, and received Australia Council funding for choreographic projects over several years. Tasmanian born, she now lives in Singapore where she has lectured at LASALLE College of the Arts and Singapore Management University, been a research consultant at the National Institute of Education, is a dance critic, author and editor of numerous publications including Shifting Sands: Dance in Asia and the Pacific (2006).

10 Beyond Revival and Preservation: Contemporary Dance in Cambodia Fred Frumberg Ask any well-seasoned traveller to describe Cambodian dance, and the answer might allude to the celestial nymphs that adorn the Angkor Wat temples known as the Apsara that today remain an icon of Cambodian classical dance. Or one might think of the graceful figures immortalized on canvas by Rodin when the Royal Ballet made their first tour to France during the World Expo in 1906. Others might even wonder if Cambodian dance had not been entirely obliterated as a result of the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge during the brutal Pol Pot regime from 1975–79 when approximately 90 per cent of all Cambodian classical performers were either killed or died of starvation or disease because of their links to what was considered a decadent class. Cambodian classical dance is very much alive thanks to the of the few artists who survived the genocide either by sheer luck or by hiding their true identities. Great masters such as Ms Em Theay, one of the great court dancers and singers, survived because the leader of her labour camp harboured a dangerous and unspoken love of Cambodian dance. Em Theay would sing for him at night, and sing lullabies to children too young to join the workforce when she became too weak to work. Now in her 70s, Em Theay, born in 1935, continues to work tirelessly at instilling a rigorous discipline to young dancers and musicians, fearful of further loss once she is gone. Thanks directly to her perseverance, two new generations of dancers and musicians have emerged; her two children and six grandchildren are all respected, established performers.

efforts

Contemporary Dance in Cambodia

Mr Proeung Chhieng, the current Vice Rector of the Royal

University of Fine Arts (RUFA) and formerly one of the great interpreters of the ‘monkey role’, was studying in North Korea at the

onset of the Pol Pot regime. Not wanting to abandon his colleagues and unaware of the extreme atrocities, he returned to Cambodia where he too was assigned to work camps and eventually escaped over the Thai border. He returned immediately after the fall of the Khmer Rouge and was instrumental in re-establishing the Royal University of Fine Arts where he taught a new generation of Kaol monkey dancers, later becoming a very proactive dean of the faculty of choreographic arts.

Background Immediately following the fall of the Khmer Rouge, these and other artists put out a call throughout the country to identify their surviving colleagues and in 1980, many artists reunited for the first time in a gathering that was both an agonizing of the loss of life, while serving as testimony to the eternal endurance of Cambodia’s great performing arts heritage. Initial efforts by the artists and government included attempts to small provincial troupes. Lakhaon Kaol, Cambodian classical male masked dance, once had over 30 troupes throughout the country. As of 2008 there are only six, but the very fact that they exist is a direct result of these efforts. The National Theatre was re-established as the Department of Performing Arts of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts with satellite departments set up throughout the country. The department had originally been established in 1966 and reopened soon after the fall of the Khmer Rouge in its previous home at the Tonle Bassac Theatre in Phnom Penh but with only 10 per cent of its former members. The School of Fine Arts reopened towards the end of 1980 in an abandoned rice silo several miles outside of Phnom Penh. The school had enjoyed a rich history that began in 1919 as a that was revered as one of the foremost arts institutions in Southeast Asia. The conservatory was established as the of Fine Arts in 1965 under King Sihanouk. As with all other educational institutions in Cambodia, the university was closed down at the onset of the Pol Pot regime and reopened its doors in 1980 as The School of Arts. In 1988, the school was re-established as the University of Fine Arts and in 1993 renamed the Royal University of Fine Arts. The international community recognized

recognition

reestablish

conservatory University

Khmeropédies II Performers: Dancers — Penh Chunmit and Hem Linda, Rap Singer — Vy Chamroeun; choreographed by Emmanuèle Phuon (2009) Photographer: Anders Jiras

these efforts and stepped forward to help. Crucial funding and logistical assistance gradually trickled in by major foundations such as Rockefeller, the Asian Cultural Council, the Ford and Toyota, among others, forming vital relationships that continue today. It was a slow and arduous process with the organizations trying to monitor where the needs were and establish priorities in what was precariously unknown territory. There are 20 forms of Cambodian dance, theatre and music, most of which were represented by the small community of surviving artists, all of whom were obviously committed to resurrecting the remnants of their particular area of expertise with little or no resources, within an infrastructure that was in utter shambles. In 1984, the government gave the school a piece of land in the north of Phnom Penh that had previously been an army barracks. It was entirely inadequate as a campus but it provided the means for artists to regroup in a central location as attempts continued to form some semblance of order. The new location of the school, together with the newly established department of performing arts at the previously abandoned Tonle Bassac Theatre, provided two crucial gathering points for artists who were still finding their way home from the chaos that ensued after the fall of the Khmer Rouge. Various non-government organizations, embassies and private donors did what they could to improve the new campus by constructing new buildings, repairing old ones and securing essential material such as musical instruments, practice costumes and office equipment. In 1993, a significant new partnership was formed with the Rockefeller Foundation in collaboration with the Asian Cultural Council in establishing the Mentorship Program, a project devised by a small community of devoted artists who were committed to placing classical dance and music at the forefront of the revival process. The programme was designed to help the ailing University of Fine Arts begin to establish and sustain a realistic curriculum in which a new generation of practitioners can benefit from the knowledge retained by the few surviving masters. It provided the means by which the elder masters could pass on their knowledge to the young teachers in a formal, structured classroom situation. The program grew to include other forms of performing arts such as Bassac opera, Yike traditional music theatre and others as well as providing funds needed to improve the administrative infrastructure.

Foundation various

FredFrumberg

UNESCO had a strong presence in Cambodia since the early 1960s but closed its doors in 1975. During the 1980s, it to initiate small-scale projects mostly through existing organizations. In 1989, it was given the task of monitoring the Angkor temples but it was not until 1991 that it formally reopened its Phnom Penh office. In the mid-1990s, the Phnom Penh office recruited a number of UN volunteers to initiate programmes in the intangible cultural sector including the performing arts, with some projects being supported in close collaboration with the University of Fine Arts through its Japan ‘Funds in Trust’ programme. It continues today as a major partner to the Ministry of Culture, but with limited projects in the arts.

continued

Cambodian performing

Throughout this period, numerous performing arts-related

international non-government organizations have been established to join in this cultural renaissance including Amrita Performing Arts, Sovanna Phum Arts Association, Khmer Arts, Cambodian Living Arts, Reyum Institute of Arts and Culture, the Canadian sponsored Cambodian Support Group, the French Cultural Centre, and others. There have also been a number of non-government projects initiated entirely by Cambodians such as the Apsara Arts which was created by Vong Metry, a classical dancer who recognized the need to bring the revival and preservation process to the poorest of citizens who would never have the chance to access larger government institutions such as the University of Fine Arts. Metry’s programme began in 1997 in her backyard with approximately 20 students and volunteer teachers from the university. Her efforts were observed by the director of the Tokyo-based Kasumiso Foundation who, in 2000, was so moved by her commitment that he built a proper school and dormitory attached to Metry’s home. The school continues to be supported by private donors and contributions from public performances and today boasts over 100 students and a substantial staff of teachers and administrators. In 2002, RUFA was divided into two different schools. Until then, students only studied until the age of 18, at which point they received a baccalaureate degree, mirroring a system rooted in the French colonial period. In its new incarnation, a proper BA was established and the younger students became part

Association

programme

of the new Secondary School of Fine Arts. In 2005, the campus fell victim to a land deal and was moved to a remote area outside the city. The student and faculty population dropped dramatically as few could afford the additional petrol needed to drive the extra distance. The situation improved somewhat in early 2007 when HM King Norodom Sihamoni donated several school buses. Despite the ongoing challenges facing the university, today there is a new generation of classical dancers with over 400 students enrolled at RUFA and SSFA (as of fall 2008). The young teachers have taken up the reins previously held by their masters in an ongoing process still overseen by the surviving elder masters who continue to teach and supervise rehearsals and classes with tireless commitment well into their 70s. With a teaching style that may seem to border on cruelty, it, in fact, represents desperation to pass on their valuable knowledge before they are gone. To watch, for example, master dancer Em Theay conduct a rehearsal, is testimony to the profound commitment and determination of all masters to maintain the accuracy and detail of the classical dance and music repertory. They also seek to instil in the new generation a profound respect and appreciation for the royal roots of their dance heritage and their responsibility to uphold its values to the Cambodian public. As an oral heritage passed down through a system of mentorship, there was little documentation of Cambodian dance and that which was recorded was mostly destroyed during the war. projects have been initiated over the years to support the living masters in recording their memories and nurturing back to life much of the lost repertory from the court, the Reamker and folk traditions. These three forms represent the full range of dance. The Reamker is the legend most often recounted by Cambodian classical dance Robam Boran (the female form) and Lakhaon Kaol (the male form) and the stories most loved by the general public. Court dance is interpreted through a myriad of repertory based on Cambodian legends such as that of the renowned Apsara. Up until the 1960s, classical court dance was mostly confined to the palace and the form most known to the general public was folk dance which continues to be a very popular form especially in the provinces where folk dance repertory represents all major holidays, changes of season and annual harvests. This task of documentation has been one of the major components of the

Numerous Cambodian

previously stated Rockefeller Mentorship programme. In addition, a two-year research and documentation project (1998–2000) was funded by the Toyota Foundation in which 12 RUFA teachers worked in close collaboration with masters both at RUFA and from the provinces to create the beginnings of a notation system for the thousands of gestures that make up the vocabulary of court and Kaol dance. Several preliminary teaching guides resulted from that programme, with more comprehensive versions later published through support from a UNESCO/Japan Funds in Trust programme and the Rockefeller Foundation.

classical Beyond Revival and Preservation

The ultimate acknowledgement of this painstaking process came in 2003 when Cambodian classical dance was awarded World Heritage Status by UNESCO. That honour was repeated in 2005 when Cambodian large shadow puppetry was awarded the same status. Such an honourable recognition has mixed blessings as one might ask the question: What is the next step once the process of revival and preservation of a nearly annihilated dance tradition has taken on its own momentum? How does one keep the dance form from becoming a precious gem hidden within a glass museum showcase? UNESCO’s prestigious proclamation has kept some dancers and cultural leaders from addressing these issues. Instead of allowing it to become a living, breathing part of Cambodia’s contemporary performing arts scene which responds to an everchanging social and political landscape, it remains vulnerable to stagnation and being permanently frozen within the process of revival and preservation. Young artists in Cambodia have begun to ask these questions and the road to finding the answers is fraught with obstacles. Cambodian dancers who have had the opportunity to practice their craft outside of Cambodia, mostly in the United States and Europe, have been the first to respond to these questions. Ken Kunthea, an outstanding young dancer specializing in the female role, relocated to Belgium in the mid-1990s. Confronted with extreme culture shock, Kunthea was even more determined not to lose connection with her dance roots. She met Emmanuèle Phuon, a choreographer and dancer who was born in Cambodia but moved to France as a child, later relocating to Belgium. The two artists began to collaborate in work that was rooted in their

mutual classical dance backgrounds while breaking new ground through Emmanuèle’s extensive experience in contemporary dance with such artists as Martha Clarke and Joachim Schlemer. The merging of their diverse backgrounds and aesthetics provided the framework in which both were able to further develop their individual vocabulary while giving each the opportunity to reaffirm their commitment to the Cambodian classical form. Through this experience, Kunthea created her first contemporary dance in a piece called Frames of Life, in which she explored her classical dance training as to how it relates to nature — the basis of many of the basic gestures of the extensive Cambodian classical dance vocabulary. Emmanuèle then choreographed a work for Kunthea entitled Khmeropédies Part I, in which the dancer explores the between honouring her masters and the natural, yet tabooed, desire to break with tradition. Chiem Yiphun fled Cambodia with the surviving members of her family at the age of three and resettled in Belgium. Now in her early 30s, Yiphun is reconnecting with her Cambodian heritage through an entirely different medium. Enthralled by European pop culture and inspired by the video images of Lara Croft, Yiphun has made an enormous impact locally by rediscovering her roots through a medium she is more familiar with — hip hop. Her work Apsara revisits the ghosts of her family’s tragic past through a combination of mime, breakdancing, traditional Cambodian dance, and Brazilian caper. The work created a with both public and press in Paris in early 2008 at the Tarmac tête a tête hip hop festival. One of the first pioneers of this process was Sophiline Cheam Shapiro, a member of the first class to graduate from RUFA when it was reinstated after the fall of the Khmer Rouge. She later moved to the US where she and her husband established the Khmer Arts Academy in the Cambodian enclave of Long Beach, California. In 2007, they returned to Cambodia where they set up a permanent base with a troupe of over 30 dancers and musicians. Sophiline is classically trained and utterly faithful to her dance legacy while infusing it with new ideas and energy. Her works have included a Cambodian classical dance interpretation of Shakespeare’s Othello entitled Samritechak, and Pamina Devi, based on Mozart’s The Magic Flute that premiered in December 2007 in Vienna as part of Peter Sellars’ New Crowned Hope Festival, commemorating the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth.

conflict

Cambodian

sensation

Using Shakespeare or Mozart as a cultural bridge is of course not new. Their works have proven adaptable to virtually every culture, time and place, as is the case with many classical art forms. However, for Cambodia, such initiatives have provided crucial links towards establishing a fully contemporary dance language. One can argue if these particular works are contemporary dance or not. If you are new to classical Cambodian dance and were to walk unknowingly into a rehearsal of either of the above mentioned works, you might think you were observing a rehearsal of a scene from the Reamker. So faithful is the work to the classical form that only the most seasoned connoisseur will notice the nuances in the choreography. However, when viewed in its entirety, the bridge it creates between the classical and contemporary worlds are at once very new, subtle and significant and by the very definition, contemporary, yet, at its heart, faithful to the classical form. Nonetheless, the groundbreaking and innovative aspects of this work has provoked untold conflict and rifts in the Cambodian dance community among teachers, students, practitioners, and ministry officials, in particular among elder masters who remain apprehensive and protective of their still unfinished task of fully reviving Cambodian dance. Many of these arguments echo the sentiments that emerged from the UNESCO classification of world heritage status on Cambodian classical dance. The fears and anxieties are based on a misconceived notion that creativity and innovation contradict tradition. One immediate contradiction to this commotion is the fact that the treasured Apsara is, contrary to popular belief, by no means a classical iconic dance handed down from King Jayavarman’s Angkorian period but rather, a contemporary of the temple engravings choreographed in 1962 by the late Queen Kossomak for her granddaughter Princess Buppha Devi, the Royal Ballet’s prima ballerina of the time. The classical style, in general, has been constantly evolving and few of the old repertory predate the colonial period. This discourse is not an attempt to define what contemporary dance is or to make comparisons between contemporary dance, modern and postmodern trends. Cambodia is by no means the first country to have nearly lost its culture as a result of genocide or other forms of political upheaval. My argument is strictly in the context of modern-day Cambodia, and what I can say with

interpretation

absolute certainty is that Cambodia is ready to be included in the international contemporary dance community and young Cambodian dancers are seeking tools with which they can create their own contemporary dance vocabulary. Several examples of this trend will be highlighted later in this article. Revival and preservation of still lost repertory will remain an urgent priority for many years to come but the remarkable resilience and recognition of Cambodian classical dance indicates that the mindset currently consumed by the notion of ‘revival and preservation’ must now shift to include one that emphasizes creativity and productivity. The two paths can and must continue to evolve in harmony side by side, as they do in many of the world’s great dance traditions. Unlike our regional counterparts in such countries as Thailand, Indonesia and Malaysia who have sought for years to strike a balance between preserving their traditions and developing their own contemporary dance styles, Cambodian dancers are, for all the reasons I have indicated, far behind in this process and are extremely vulnerable to outside influence. Numerous contemporary and modern dance practitioners from the West have offered to visit Cambodia to ‘teach’ their craft to young Cambodian dancers. These efforts have been met with various degrees of success; some never materialize as it becomes clear to all involved how much more groundwork needs to be laid in both practical and pedagogical approaches before we can possibly begin to discuss the techniques of the likes of Merce Cunningham and Martha Graham. Amrita Performing Arts (derived from the Sanskrit word meaning ‘eternity’), an international non-government organization based in Phnom Penh, with US non-profit status, was established in July 2003. Its mission since its inception has been to promote, preserve and sustain Cambodia’s ancient performing arts heritage while developing contemporary creative expression in dance, music and theatre. Amrita Performing Arts has been an active player in helping to lay the groundwork for the delicate process in the ongoing dialogue on the development of contemporary dance in Cambodia. Amrita has tried to identify practitioners from the region whose own contemporary dance styles have grown from similar struggles between preservation and creativity and whose work is deeply rooted in their own ancient traditions. Our

international

consequently

first substantial attempt was in March 2005 with a work titled Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants, a contemporary interpretation of Cambodian classical male masked dance known as Lakhaon Kaol that we created in collaboration with Pornrat Damrhung, Associate Professor of Dramatic Arts, Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok. Pichet Klunchun, an established Thai dancer and with a strong background in both Thai classical Kaol and contemporary dance, worked with six Cambodian Kaol dancers and five Cambodian classical musicians in creating a new work that grew out of two months of exchange and intense dialogue. We invited two Kaol masters to be part of the workshop as advisers. The process was fraught with conflict as the masters looked on in great apprehension and the dialogue was often charged with accusations of pilfering the Kaol tradition. In the end, it was extremely successful as both an artistic endeavour and as a study in cross-cultural collaboration between two nations known for their ancient cultural conflicts. Young dancers and elder masters alike united in praising the work for succeeding in finding a new voice for Cambodian dance while respecting and honouring the classical form. The work went on to tour to Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, where it received much critical acclaim. At the 2007 TARI Dance Festival in Kuala Lumpur, reviewer Lim How Ngean wrote:

choreographer

… Cambodian dancers were dressed in simple black T-shirts and maroon fishermen pants, but were wonderfully differentiated by the physical characterizations of monkeys and giants. Although couched as contemporary work, Klunchun’s dynamic choreography included finer details of the Khmer classical dance vocabulary. A much quicker tempo in the movements signaled a departure from traditional ways while characterization was purely manifested through the body rather than fussy and elaborate costumes and masks. APA’s excerpt from Kaol was a brilliant showcase of contemporary dance drama.1

In January 2006, we welcomed the Javanese dancer and

choreographer Miroto Martinus to Cambodia to conduct several weeks of

workshops with young RUFA dancers as part of an Arts Network Asia project. This culminated in a brief but provoking public 1 http://www.kakiseni.com.

showing of an untitled experimental work that brought together the Javanese and Cambodian classical traditions with a striking contemporary line. At the end of the workshop, in a discussion between Miroto and the artists, one of our senior male Kaol dancers, Soeur Thavarak, the only elder master to participate in that contemporary dance workshop, asked Miroto how his elder masters in Java reacted to his groundbreaking choreography. Miroto replied that his teachers are mostly supportive and in fact pleased to see how the traditions have inspired such innovation. To this, Thavarak voiced his deep frustration that Cambodian dancers cannot yet dare to do this kind of work on their own Young dancers are still under the shadow of masters who shun experiments which break from tradition and his hope is that with more such workshops, young dancers might eventually find the courage to trust their own creative sensibilities and finally realize that creativity is not intended to contradict or threaten their ancient dance heritage but rather to give it a context in which it can live and flourish well into the future. This would allow their own contemporary dance style to live in tandem with the traditions of the past. This declaration was all the more extraordinary and poignant for the fact that it came from one of the very elder masters who had previously shunned contemporary deviation from the classical path. Soeur Thavarak was one of the six dancers in Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants — a role he accepted as a means of challenging his own doubts about the merging of these two worlds, out of which he has become an unstoppable force and spokesperson for this movement. One of our most significant steps in these efforts took place in January 2006 when several members of the World Dance Alliance (WDA) from Malaysia, Australia and India visited Cambodia to conduct contemporary dance workshops for approximately 30 of our most enthusiastic young dancers. On that occasion the president of WDAAP, Professor Anis Md Nor, gave a presentation on the significance of the WDA and officially welcomed as a new member. This was an exciting day for the young dancers as the occasion clearly marked the beginning of many new opportunities, reinstating the belief that more members of the international modern dance community would join our as the borders continue to break down not only within the

initiative.

Cambodia

efforts

region but across them as well. Through the WDA network, our burgeoning community of young contemporary dancers has had the opportunity to travel and interact as well as perform with many of their counterparts in Taiwan, Australia, Malaysia, Canada, and Singapore, to name only a few. These efforts have given the artists the confidence needed to begin to embark on their own initiatives, creating work that is entirely their own — entirely Cambodian. Phon Sopheap is one of our great lead monkey dancers; he has collaborated with Pichet Klunchun, Peter Chin and Emmanuèle Phuon and taken part in numerous contemporary dance in the US, Indonesia and Thailand. He created his first solo work as part of the 2007 International forum for young in Surabaya Indonesia. Out of the 20 new works created at the workshop, Sopheap’s was one of the seven selected to be presented at the Indonesian Dance Festival in Jakarta the following week. The work, A Monkey’s Mask, based on the dancer’s struggle between his own identity and that of his traditional mask, has also been seen at festivals in Singapore and Thailand. Chumvan Sodhachivy is one of the great young interpreters of the male role of the all-female classical court dance form. Sodhachivy, also known as Belle, has performed in contemporary works under the guidance of choreographers from India, Indonesia, the France, and the US and has participated in workshops in situations as extreme as the Asia–Europe Foundation’s Point to Point dance workshop in Poland and Bob Wilson’s Watermill Center in New York. After this intense period of external artistic saturation, Belle is now creating her own work including the premierè in October 2008 at the French Cultural Centre’s Phnom Penh theatre festival of The History of Preah Kongkea, an inspired, original work that combines classical Cambodian dance with cutting edge contemporary reinterpretation of the classical gestures as well as numerous forms of traditional Cambodian theatre including shadow puppetry. Chey Chankethya is a young master of the female role and a teacher at Phnom Penh’s Secondary School of Fine Arts. Kethya was part of a three-month dance management programme at UCLA in 2006 and since then has emerged as one of the strongest leaders in Cambodia’s dance community. Having been exposed to many contemporary dance workshops, performing extensively around the world and giving lectures on dance education in Cambodia,

workshops choreographers

Philippines,

Kethya recently founded her own contemporary dance company in Phnom Penh called Compass dance ensemble consisting of 10 of her colleagues. Though unable to sustain the ensemble on a full-time basis, they meet regularly at Amrita’s studio, exchanging ideas and creating new works that are presented on an ad hoc basis, entirely funded from their own salaries from other dance performances or as teachers and ticket revenue from previous performances. These are only a few of the more vivid examples. The list goes on and despite all the odds, the trickle down effect to the larger community of young dancers is truly inspiring. The process remains slow and the general situation precariously fragile. The success must be measured on a scale very particular to this country’s circumstances and yet by anyone’s standards, the sheer resilience and determination is remarkable. I have been in Cambodia since June 1997. As an American schooled in Western theatre and opera, it has been a humbling challenge to discover with the encouragement and blessing of my Cambodian colleagues how best to represent and support this amazing culture without falling into the obvious colonialist traps of superimposing what one might think is best onto a rather vulnerable community. Based on the reactions we have seen so far, both locally and internationally, we seem to be heading in the right direction; we can only hope and trust and continue to ask these pertinent questions on a daily basis. In my earlier days, whenever I campaigned to raise funds and awareness for performing arts, my rationale was based on tapping into the huge well of support and empathy following Cambodia’s genocidal history. In this article I have chosen to give only limited information on the atrocities of the 1970s as crucial background to my argument. It will be many years before the wounds inflicted by the Khmer Rouge are erased or even begin to fade into the background, but the development of Cambodian dance cannot continue to fall victim to its own tragic legacy. Today, young artists in Cambodia, teachers, students and performers alike, are taking responsibility for their own cultural destiny. They are also at a level whereby they can compete with the world’s best and want to be judged accordingly. They still need support and encouragement; however, that support must not be born out of pity but rather out of celebration for one of the world’s great cultural revivals.

Cambodian

Note: This article is based on a shorter work presented at the Toronto WDA Global Assembly in July 2006 and later printed in Dialogues in Dance Discourse — Creating Dance in Asia Pacific, published by the Cultural Centre of the University of Malaya, Malaysia. I wish to acknowledge Robert Turnbull 2 for his support and insightful views in the original writing of this text.

Fred Frumberg moved to Cambodia in June 1997 as a consultant with UNESCO, to assist in the revival and preservation of Cambodian traditional and contemporary performing arts. His task has been to build capacity in all aspects of theatre management, from the staging of public performances to research and documentation and organizing international tours and exchange programmes throughout Asia, Europe, the US, and Australia. In July 2003 Fred founded Amrita Performing Arts, a organization based in Phnom Penh, to continue these efforts and introduce an element of contemporary creativity. Prior to working in Cambodia, Fred spent 15 years working in opera houses and theatres throughout the USA and Europe, assisting stage directors such as Peter Sellers, Francesca Zambello and Deborah Warner. He was Head of Production at the Paris Opera from 1994–97, a staff stage director for the Netherlands Opera in the late 1980s and production manager for two World Festivals of Sacred Music in Los Angeles in 1999 and 2002 produced by Judy Mitoma of UCLA’s Center for Intercultural Performance.

nonprofit

2 Since moving to Cambodia in 1997, Robert Turnbull has written

extensively on culture and travel in Southeast Asia. His writings include the

chapter ‘A Burned-out Theater’ in Leakthina Chau-Pech Ollier and Tim Winter (eds), Expressions of Cambodia: The Politics of Tradition, Modernity and Change, London and New York: Routledge Curzon, 2006.

Artist Interviews and Biographies Interviews conducted in Phnom Penh by Suon Bun Rith (Country Director), translations by Kang Rithisal (Program Director) — Amrita Performing Arts.

Chhim Naline Folklore dancer and film actor I became an artist in 1987. To be honest, I had no love for the arts. It was my mother’s love and her decision to send me to the Secondary School of Fine Arts. I was completely ignorant about the arts, but the arts changed my life. It made me love my own culture and explore this field. At the point I entered the school, I felt I wanted to become an artist and I worked hard to pursue this. In 1992, I was part of a French film production. I had the lead role in the production. I was not sure that I would be able to do well in the film, but with advice and support from Rithy Panh, a renowned Cambodian filmmaker, as well as my senior teachers, Pich Tum Kravel and Proeung Chhieng, I managed to do a good job. The film was featured at a festival in Cannes, France. I was also invited to participate in the festival — this was a great privilege. After years of training in folklore dance, I became one of the top dancers and performed at national and international events. When the school organized a traditional fashion show, I was to be one of the models. With my proficiency in Cambodian basic dancing movements, I could perform the dances of different countries including Japan,

selected

Artist Interviews and Biographies

the Philippines and Vietnam, and contemporary dance. Upon my high school graduation, I pursued a BA at the Faculty of Choreographic Arts, where I also learnt the connections between dance, culture and history. This study inspired me to broaden my understanding of various cultural traditions and customs. I got involved in a three-year research and documentation project on the ‘Ethnics’ Life and Music’ in Ratanakiri province with support from the Toyota Foundation. From my study and research, I choreographed a folk dance drama titled ‘Dance of Pre-History’ for my BA final exam. I had to do a study of the art form including choreography, music, dancing movements, lighting, set design, costumes, and so on. I received my BA and became a dance teacher at the Secondary School of Fine Arts. I also continue to give dance classes at the Institute of Foreign Languages. Chhim Naline

was

born in 1976 and began her folklore dance training

of

at the age of 12 at the Secondary School Fine Arts. When shefinished her training at the school in 1995, she continued to teach folklore on a

volunteer basis. In 1999, she pursued her study at the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts and received her BA in folklore dance choreography in 2003. During her years of study, Naline was probably the best folklore dancer at the school, performing as the lead dancer in most of the folklore dance pieces. She has performed at national events and toured to France, Japan, China, and other countries in Southeast Asia. Still performing, she is currently a dance teacher at the Secondary School of Fine Arts. Besides that, she teaches dance at the Royal University of Phnom Penh.

Chumvan Sodhachivy (Belle) Classical dancer Born in 1985, I am the only daughter of my mother who is an elder artist of Cambodian modern theatre. I entered the school of dance to train in classical dance because my mother wanted me to do so. I graduated from the Faculty of Choreographic Arts.

Goddess of Water Performers: Female — Chumvan Sodhachivy; Male — Yim Savann; choreographed by Chumvan Sodhachivy (2008) Photographer: Anders Jiras

Besides classical dance training, I took a lot of time to train in other disciplines including contemporary dance. Then I fell in love with contemporary dance and I’ve been involved in it for five years. One thing I learned from my workshop with Indonesian artist Miroto Martinus was about depth and beauty. We had to think about those two things when we danced. However, there was another idea that I could not follow. That was trying to get away from your background. My background is the basis of my dance movements, postures and spirit. Though I am doing contemporary dance, it is based on my background. I cannot forget that. I had another chance to work with Emmanuèle Phuon, a French Cambodian choreographer, in Florida in 2008. I loved the way she incorporated our backgrounds in her creative development. We could still use our dance traditions but she assisted us with new techniques to make the movements beautiful and energetic. When I was still purely a classical dancer, I often thought of dance. I wanted to do contemporary dance and I felt it was great and full of energy. It is a long-time tradition of our dance school that all movements from head to heel, and the spirit of the dance, must be accurate. From generation to generation, the transferring of the dances is supposed to remain faithful and fixed to the form. We have to gain a good understanding of our culture and identity. I was not paid much attention by the teachers and did not have a chance to perform. Was it because I was not pretty or good enough at dancing? This is an unanswered question. It was so painful being a dancer like that, but I tried my best. The pain became a force that pushed me ahead to achieve what I wished to pursue. When I did my first contemporary dance work, it was well received. I was hopeful that people would like contemporary dance more and more. We can create new things by not abandoning the traditions. I have done creative works and the experimentations have made me a firm believer that without the traditional forms, we have no way to move into the innovative works we are now doing. I think the younger generation of artists can explore and develop contemporary dance but they must first have a good knowledge of the traditional forms.

contemporary

Chumvan Sodhachivy (Belle) began training in Cambodian classical dance in 1994. She was trained specifically in the Neay Rong

Artist Interviews and Biographies (male role) but has also had training in Neang (the female role in classical dance), folk dance and Sbeik Thom (Cambodian large shadow puppetry). Her classical dance work Soryakheat Chankheat, which she created for her BA final examination, was featured in the first Recontres Internationales de Theatre 2007festival produced by the French Cultural Centre. She was then commissioned to choreograph a contemporary work, Water Master, for the second Recontres Internationales de Theatre 2008 festival. She participated in Bob Wilson's Watermill Center 2006 Summer Arts Program in the United States, the 2006 Hong Dance Festival and a contemporary dance workshop on the Kong the International Dance Day Celebration 2007 in Kolkata, of India. She has participated in numerous workshops with international

International

occasion

artists from India, Indonesia, the US, and the World Dance Alliance Asia Pacific, in which she learnt various disciplines such as puppetry, Indian dance, Arabic dance, Balinese dance, and contemporary dance. More recently, she was one offour dancers featured in a new work by Khmer/French choreographer Emmanuèle Pinion that began as a workshop at the Baryshnikov White Oak Center in the US State of Florida in August 2008, and premiered in Phnom Penh in March 2009. Belle travelled to Belgium in the fall of 2009 to create a new solo work with Phuon.

Hang Borin Lakhaon Kaol dancer 18 years ago, I stepped into the arts. This is a short number of years compared to the elder artists, who have much more knowledge and experience. In 2005, I had an opportunity to participate in a contemporary work with a number of well established Thai artists — it was arranged by Amrita Performing Arts. This was the first time I participated in a contemporary dance workshop and I was ignorant about this style. What is contemporary dance? There were many questions in my brain. I thought it was ballet dancing. In the interactive workshop with the Thai artists, I gained an understanding of it through their explanations and my own

completely

Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants Performers: Hang Borin (third from left) with dancers from the Secondary School of Fine Arts; choreographed by Pichet Klunchun (2006) Photographer: Kang Rithisal

experimentation of movements, which were so unusual to me. There was criticism, good and bad, from the Khmer elder senior teachers; however, after some justification they accepted the work to some extent. I felt many new things and worked on exploring them further. The physical dance movements, based on the Khmer performing traditions, were not the most difficult part of the process, but expressing the emotions were. The showcase of our choreography was very well received and amazingly, the work has been performed again a few times and featured at several important international events. Besides this, I have also experienced contemporary dance through my participation with other international artists and by watching VCDs. This has deepened my enthusiasm and insight. In my opinion, contemporary dance is a type of dance whereby artists enjoy the freedom of movement and emotion. Some movements are meaningful in parallel with the music and some movements innovative and strange, or just beautiful in their own right. The space for contemporary dance is very easy. A artist can perform on a stage, in a street, on a tree, in the water, on a bed, on a car, and so on. It is really up to the artist — their creativity is the core element of contemporary dance. At present, I have joined 10 other fellow dancers to form Compass dance ensemble, which is dedicated to exploring and creating contemporary dance. We share whatever we learn and experiment in several contemporary dance works. We continue our contemporary dance momentum, in spite of the challenges we face, in order to contribute to the development of Khmer dance.

contemporary

Born in 1982, Hang Borin entered the Secondary School of Fine Arts when he was nine and was trained in the giant role ofLakhaon Kaol until 2000. He became a Lakhaon Kaol teacher at the school in 2002. He pursued his studies at the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts and received his BA in 2007. During his study, he choreographed a number of Lakhaon Kaol works of Cambodia’s ‘Ramayana’ epic including Tuosmuk’s Meditation, Hanuman and Naga King’s Battle and Virul’s Battle. He was a dancer in Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants featured at the Opening Festival of the Singapore Arts Museum and performed at the 2007 Singapore Arts Mart and the TARI Festival in Malaysia. Locally, he has performed with the Battery Dance

Company from New York in the presence of the King, and participated in the Choreography Arts Management workshop by well-established artists from the University of California, Los Angeles. Borin was also a dancer in Weyreap's Battie' featured at the Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, the Melbourne International Arts Festival 2005 in Australia and the Barbican's BITE Festival 2007 in London. Besides this, Borin has toured with the Cambodian Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts to perform in Japan, Italy and other countries in Southeast Asia.

Hem Linda Classical dancer When I started classical dance training, I was not really interested in it. It was my parents who decided my school life in Cambodia and when I tried to practice and learn everything in dance, it was just me being a good student. In spite of my lack of interest, I liked observing how the dance movements went, the teaching methodology, teaching psychology, and so on. I started to feel the love of the dance when I had a chance to abroad. Cambodian classical dance is extremely exquisite and the classical dance performances were always very well received by the audience. The dancers could be identified by their slow movement and it is a tough job to move the hands and the body like this. Witnessing the pride and undeniable significance of the dance, I developed my great love for it. At the same time, as a professional dancer, I have had to see dance performances from other countries. Their dance is very different from mine as it is usually faster. I thought to myself, ‘I want to learn other Cambodian arts forms, which I could perform faster … that are more interesting.’ This thought that stayed in my heart for a long time was made possible when I had a chance to work with contemporary dancers. They made me enjoy the freedom of new movements that are still based on the traditional style. Though I have not yet come to the level whereby I consider myself to be a good contemporary dancer, I have been working with 10 other young dancers to explore and work in dance.

perform

opportunities

contemporary

As a choreographer of Cambodian classical dance, there are challenges I have to face, including the theme of the choreography, the lyrics, musical accompaniment, the dance movements, the spacing, and so on. For contemporary dance, I have to deal with the same challenges as in classical dance, but what separates the contemporary from the classical is that the dancers have more freedom in their self-expression. They also create new dance movements. In contemporary dance, I experiment with new movements and see how the movements can connect. For music in contemporary dance, I can use classical music (the traditional Pin Peat) in combination with modern music. Overall, I can with mixing things together in contemporary dance, while my freedom of doing so is very limited in classical dance. No matter whether I am a classical or contemporary dancer, when I dance I have to look into doing something new. The dance audience may no longer be interested if they think the dance is always the same. As a dancer and choreographer, I know that doing something the same does not always work in the arts. I will continue performing my dance works by initiating new things in them. Creativity is important in both classical and dance.

experiment

classical

contemporary

Beginning her dance training at the Secondary School of Fine Arts in 1991, Hem Linda graduated with a BA in classical dance choreography from RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts in 2006. She was one of the outstanding students of her batch and her work for the BA final examination Vorvong Sorvong was featured at the Nuits d’ Angkor festival produced by the French Cultural Centre in Siem Reap in the same year. Coming from a family of one of the most respected classical dance masters, Linda has performed locally at various important events and toured extensively in Europe and Asia. In October 2006, she was part of the workshops and performances by the Battery Dance Company from New York, which was presided over by King Sihamoni. She has been a performer in the King’s film productions. Linda also participated in the Choreography Arts Management workshop conducted in 2007 by well established artists from the University of California, Los Angeles. In 2003, she was a dancer in Samritechak, a reinterpretation of Shakespeare’s Othello in Cambodian classical dance and music that performed in Venice, Italy and was choreographed by Sophiline Cheam Shapiro. Recently, she was awarded a grant from the Cambodian Artists

administered by Leveraging Investments in Creativity (LINC) and Amrita Performing Arts, to choreograph a classical dance piece. she is a dance teacher at the Secondary School of Fine Arts Presently, and a member of Trey Visay (Compass) dance ensemble.

Project,

Khieu Sovannarith Lakhaon Kaol dancer I will talk about the distinctive aspects of Lakhaon Kaol and

contrast and compare it with contemporary dance. Lakhaon Kaol is

the dance that was created by our great ancestors and there are specific rules and forms for it. When I do classical dance, I have to strictly follow the rules and forms and combine the dance with my personal emotional expression. For contemporary dance, I think the movements are born out of a dancer’s emotions — it is spontaneous, and the space for it is very free. I was interested in contemporary dance and had the opportunity to be part of a contemporary work by Thai choreographer Pichet Klunchun. Contemporary dance can be based on the traditional form. I had a preconception that contemporary dance is a of our traditional form and Western dance. However, in my first involvement in the work with Pichet, I understood that contemporary dance could be based just on our traditional form. There were various adjustments, of course, but the movements could be seen to be born out of the traditional form. The new contemporary work we did was an extract from Weyreap’s Battle. It was about Machanub’s confusion about his real father and foster father. The fathers were declaring war against each other and so Machanub was in a dilemma. In Lakhaon Kaol, we already had the performance to portray this scene, but in the contemporary work, I stayed in the monkey role but moved my hands to interpret my emotion of confusion. I felt as Machanub did — I didn’t want to see the two fathers fighting. The liked what I did. This made me realize that contemporary dance has much more freedom of expression than my classical form. At the same time, I also realized how much more effectively my body could move the more creative I became.

combination

choreographer

Cambodian play by Annemarie Prins) Performer: Khieu Sovannarith Photographer: Kang Rithisal

Breaking the Silence (a

I have been working with fellow young dancers to create

contemporary dance based on our creativity and feelings and have

showcased a couple of new works. I can do all these new things because I have embodied all the great traditional things.

Also known as Tonh. Khieu Sovannarith was born in 1980 and started school at the age of 12 in the Lakhaon Kaol section at the Secondary School of Fine Arts. He was trained in the monkey role and is one of the most talented interpreters of the Hanuman role, the white monkey general in Cambodia's Reamker epic. He is currently pursuing his BA at the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts and graduated in 2009. He has choreographed a number of works during his study. He shared the lead monkey role in Weyreap's Battle, a very successful classical male masked dance production featured at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, the Melbourne International Arts Festival 2005 in Australia, and the Barbican's BITE Festival 2007 in London. He was a dancer in Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants, a contemporary work choreographed by well established Thai choreographer Pichet Klunchun, and performed at the open ing festival of the Singapore Arts Museum and at Malaysia's TARIfestival 2007. Besides this, Tonti participated in a contemporary dance workshop on the occasion of the International Dance Day Celebration 2007 in Kolkata, India. He was part of the research and documentation project with a number of Lakhaon Kaol masters to revive and compile the dancing gestures of the monkey roles. He was also part ofa research and documentation project with a number of Lakhaon Kaol masters to revive and compile the gestures of the monkey roles. Tonh recently performed as a solo dancer in Breaking the Silence a new Cambodian play based on the Khmer Rouge tribunals. —

He is

a

member of Trey

Visay (Compass)

dance ensemble.

Koy Sina Classical dancer and teacher Dance changed my life. There is a door, a magic door — it is the place for blessings. It is the back door of a large rehearsal hall at the Royal University

Preah Anurudh Preah Neang Ossa Performers: Front — Koy Sina; Back — Chhorn Nyboran (2008) Photographer: Teng Somongkol

of Fine Arts. At the top of the roof of the hall, there are birds flying about and nesting there. Every morning the female dance students in their uniform of a blue skirt and white shirt went into a room and the door closed behind the last one. After a while, they emerged in their kbin and tight blouse — the costume for classical dance rehearsal. On 15 February 1988, I was 10 years old and it was the first time I saw people performing classical dance. I remember the date because I wrote it down in my book. I remember saying, ‘I love the dancers. I want to dance like them. I want to do this dance.’ My life started to have a ray of hope. I had grown up with my family in a home with difficulties. Then I became a dance student, a dancer and a dance teacher. That back door is so symbolic in my life. The rehearsal hall was full of two things: poverty and the arts. Most of the dancers were poor and so the dance department tried to support their living. They normally had a second occupation: for instance as a shop assistant, a seller, a barber, or a driver. I tried so hard in spite of all the hardships and now I am a dance teacher and I work for the government. I come from a poor family. My father passed away, leaving my mother with eight children to feed. I am the youngest in the family and I received the most education in my family. I always had to get up before sunrise to help my mother make traditional Cambodian cakes to sell at the market. Every evening, she had to do the cooking for the next morning. We earned so little to feed our stomachs. It was not until six years after I began my dance training that my mother had a chance to watch me perform on stage. I was wearing the exquisite classical dance costume and my mother did not realize she was watching her own daughter. She said to herself that the dancer must be the daughter of a rich family who owned a car and a lot of money. It was no one but me, her daughter. There were times I talked to myself, ‘What will my life be? A blessing or a curse?’ I was not the only one in the dance class. All the other dancers of my age and older had the same painful memories. We suffered miserably in the mass killings of the Khmer Rouge’s regime. I lost my father even before I opened my eyes to see the light of day — I never saw my father. The regime killed 90 per cent of the artists.

The artistic legacy, which had usually been transferred from one generation to the next, was destroyed. All my dance teachers were painful survivors of the regime. I am now teaching classical dance, the wonderful, oldest performing art form of Cambodia. We continue to pass this on to our descendants. I do the same as the other dance teachers when we start our classes. We light incense and pray to the classical dance masters’ spirits. We usually say ‘We pray that the classical dance masters will protect us. Though we can’t see you, you all stay in our hearts and souls to bless us to be good dancers.’ Once we had a study tour to Angkor Wat temple and we witnessed the bas-reliefs of the dancers, who are almost naked. I saw the dancing movements on the bas-relief and noticed the identical aspects of the dance that they did thousands of years ago and that we are doing today. One thing I do in my classroom is different from what my teachers did when I learnt. That is corporal punishment; I only behave strictly with my students. During class, I sit on the floor of the dance hall with a bamboo stick at hand. I hit the stick against the floor of the yellow and red tiles to beat the rhythms for my students. About 38 nine-yearold students are dancing in front of me. They dance and sing the rhythm out loud to accompany their dancing, ‘Tak Ting Ting Ting Tak Ting ….’ On their ears, I can see the swinging movements of their earrings as they move from one side to another. Sweat tickles down their cheeks. I can also hear other teachers nearby giving instructions to their students. When I was young, I worked hard at my dance training. At home, I kept rehearsing in my room. When I slept, I sang and danced in my dreams. My life is full of challenges and hardships. There were times we didn’t have anything for breakfast. I was so sad. When I started dancing, it helped me overcome the stress and sadness. I remember my friends laughing when I sang a song that we learnt from the teachers and I changed the lyrics. The song we learnt was, ‘We unite with solidarity from now on’, I changed it to, ‘Let’s have quarrels from now on.’ This was because our teachers kept arguing though they taught us in the song to live harmoniously. As a dancer, earning a living is tough. When we perform for the government’s guests, we get $25. I’ve performed about 10 times

in front of the King. If we tour abroad, we get about $40 a day, and so we earn during a tour much more than when we work at the school for a year. I first toured to Japan when I was 14 years old and received $20 per performance for that. That was the largest amount of money I’d ever had. I managed to buy a bike and I no longer had to walk the distance to school. Later I went to perform in Paris, and with the money I earned from that tour I bought a wardrobe for my room. I worked hard as always and graduated from the Faculty of Choreographic Arts with a BA. I’ve also recently received a grant from the ACC/Rockefeller Mentorship Program in collaboration with Amrita Performing Arts to mount a newly staged work of classical dance. Koy Sina was born in 1977 and went to the Secondary School ofFine Arts at the age of 10. She was trained in the giant role of classical dance and finished the school in 1997. In 1999, she pursued her study at the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts and became a classical dance teacher of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts in 2002. In 2005, she resumed her BA study and graduated in 2008. She participated in the

UNESCO-sponsored Classical Dance Mentoring Program and has toured in the United States and throughout Asia and Europe. Recently, she received a grantfrom the ACC/Rockefeller Mentorship Program in collaboration with Amrita Performing Arts to create a classical dance work, Hang Yun.

Menh Kossony Classical dance master and Secretary of State, Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts My first classical dance teacher was the late Chea Samy, the greatest classical dance master. Her talent and knowledge of classical dance was incredible. She was proficient in all aspects of dance training, from the physical gestures to the emotional expressions

Young girls starting their classical dance studies at Cambodia’s National School of Fine Arts (2009) Photo copyright Toni Shapiro-Phim

for the dance. At the same time, I wanted to extend my dance skills and thought that other teachers would give me different, knowledge of dance; therefore, I secretly learned dance with other teachers including Mam Kru, Dork Piay, Mam Pong, Kem Bunnak, Khun Kru Miay, and Mam Dok, who were also great teachers in the royal palace. The normal dance classes took place in the royal palace, and I had to continue my dance training at Chea Samy’s home. This was the case only for an outstanding, favourite student like me. My guru taught me the choreography of a dance and a dance drama and the application of music to accompany the performances. I have also been part of the contemporary movement. We did this due to the development of our country. People are more modern now as compared to the past. What we did was choose a contemporary issue to be interpreted in the form of classical dance. That is contemporary dance. As a choreographer, the first thing to do in the creative process is to write the story. Then I work on the musical arrangements. Next, I talk to teachers of specialized roles to find the dancing vocabulary and to select the artists. For contemporary work, I have to also seriously consider the situation and keep loyal to the original characteristics of the classical form. Classical dance training is a back-breaking job. The dancers have to start at a young age otherwise it will be too late for them to become flexible. They also have to practice on a daily basis and be patient. When we do our work, it is like cooking. People may or may not like it, and that defines our success or failure in creating dance. I’ve observed the initiative of doing contemporary dance in Cambodia. This is a good start as the audience wants to see new things, but whatever is done needs to remain respectful to the classical forms. Classical dance is highly complex. It has distinctive arrangements of costumes, dance movements, props, and so on for the different roles in the classical dance traditions; these need to be strictly respected. Musically, it needs to be arranged properly as it is not right to use other types of music, for example Mohori music, for classical dance. I think the arts in Cambodia are not yet sufficiently supported. Cambodian classical dance has two problems: its time-consuming nature (for proper practice) and the high cost of the costumes.

valuable

Because the dance requires hard work and patience, not a lot of students are committed to their practice, so most of the dancers are blood relatives of the teachers. I think the most important aspect is the transferring of knowledge — this needs to be done carefully and effectively. Students must acquire a good understanding of classical dance before they continue in contemporary dance. born in 1949 and began her classical dance Palace at the age of seven. She became an training Royal dancer when she was 12 years old and performed the outstanding roles of Moni Mekhala and Seda (Sita), the most important roles in Cambodian classical dance tradition. In 1968, she was promoted Menh

Kossony

was

at the

to be a dance teacher at the

Royal Palace. After the fall of the Pol Pot she her dance pursued regime, study at the Royal University of Fine Arts and in 1983, graduated with a high school diploma of arts. She continued her study at the Faculty of Pedagogy to obtain her degree in teaching and in 1994, participated in a two-month practicum in France. is one of the most important teachers capable of transferring the knowledge ofclassical dance to the artists ofthe next generation. She has choreographed a number ofclassical dance works and toured extensively to perform in the United States, Africa, Canada, and throughout Asia and Europe. Currently in the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, she is Deputy Director General in charge ofthe Secondary School ofFine Arts,

Kossony

Department of Cultural Development and Department of Performing Arts. She is the founder and director of UNESCO's Classical Dance

Mentoring Program.

Mok Sokhom Folklore dancer and teacher In 1987, I started my dance training at the Royal University of Fine Arts; I have learnt a great deal about the arts. My wish was to be an exceptional Cambodian folklore dancer, but this dream didn’t come true. When I entered the school, four influential

—

Homage to Cambodia Performers: Mok Sokhom (centre) with dancers from the Secondary School of Fine Arts workshop/performance with NY-based Battery Dance Co. (2006) Photographer: Kang Rithisal

teachers at the school — Proeung Chhieng, Keo Malis, Phang Chamroeun, and Heang Nayto — decided what discipline the students should learn. Their decision was to put me into the Lakhaon Kaol classical male-masked dance section where I was trained to play the monkey role. Although it was not the role I really wanted, I studied it seriously from Yit Sarin (known as Grandfather White for his great Hanuman white monkey role performance), Proeung Chhieng, Soeur Soy, Pum Bunchanrath, Nhim Sorn, Keo Malis, and Phang Chamroeun — these teachers were the dance masters and they taught me the monkey role. However, a great love for folklore dance always remained in my heart. Every day when I had a 30-minute break from my Lakhaon Kaol training, I went to ask the folklore dance teachers to teach me. When I finished school in 1995, I was proficient in both Lakhaon Kaol and folklore dance. For the school’s final exam, I had to choreograph a 60-minute Lakhaon Kaol dance drama of Naga and Garuda’s Fighting, an episode from the Reamker. What was great news for me was that the director of the dance department and the head of the folklore dance section acknowledged my talent and skill in folklore dance and recruited me to be the folklore dance teacher. My dream finally came true. More importantly, when I toured abroad, I performed both folklore dance and Lakhaon Kaol. Besides folklore dance and Lakhaon Kaol, I performed in a dance work in the 1990s with King Sihamoni when he was still the Prince. I also performed in another work with the Battery Dance Company from New York that we performed in front of the King at the Chaktomuk conference hall in Phnom Penh. I learnt a lot from the American artists. Later, I was invited by the Full Circle Company to be part of their work to perform in Oslo, Norway. I was one of the four Cambodian artists to The Journey Dance. It was so exciting and a great privilege for me to showcase Cambodia’s contemporary dance on the stage. The work was very well received and the producer greatly admired our work. With this incentive, I hope to continue with contemporary dance.

contemporary

perform international

Born in 1975, Mok Sokhom went to the Secondary School of Fine Arts when he was 16 years old. There, he was trained in Cambodian folklore dance and Lakhaon Kaol and became a dance teacher at

the school in 1996. He is also working as an arts coordinator at the Cambokids Organization, where he has had opportunities to further his knowledge in accounting, mental health, and counselling. As a dance teacher and arts coordinator, he has created dance pieces and dramas and produced a number of traditional musicals. He has also researched and designed Cambodian traditional costumes. He has participated in various contemporary dance workshops locally and abroad. Internationally, he has collaborated with Full Circle Dance Company to perform in Norway and participated in the TARI Festival 2006 in Malaysia. Locally, he has performed for the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts at many events and was a dancer in the Battery Dance Company's prformance for the King. Besides this, he has toured extensively to perform in Denmark,

Malaysia, Korea, China, Thailand, Japan, Myanmar, and Vietnam. Sokhom remains a dance teacher and is also a freelance singer.

Pen Sok Huon Classical dance master I am a classical dance master of the male role (Neay Rong). My grandmother sent me to Her Majesty Queen Sisowath Kossomak Neary Roth Serey Vaddhana when I was nine years old to begin classical dance training at the royal palace. I practiced hard and became the lead dancer of the male role when I was 16. I choreographed the classical dance drama Preah Anurudh Preah Neang Ossa and revived the role of Kei Nor. This role, that had been lost, is different from other roles as it depicts a character that is half human and half bird. We recreated the costumes and revived the dancing movements. It was a tough job and we could not have done it if we had not seen it. Today, we can see Kei Nor in many of the temple bas-reliefs. I wanted to raise audience awareness that, apart from the four major roles — male, female, monkey, and giant — classical dance also had the Kei Nor role. The work was premiered in the presence of important people from the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts and international guests as well as the old dance masters. The old masters shed tears when they saw the role back in existence.

Preah Anurudh Preah Neang Ossa Performers: Front — Roth Chanmoy, Back — Mom Vannvattey; choreography by Pen Sok Huon (2008) Photographer: Teng Somongkol

Pen Sok Huon was born in 1948 and went to study dance at the Royal Palace at nine years of age. She was trained in the male role of classical dance and became a classical dance teacher in 1968. As a classical master at the school ofdance, Neak Kru Sok Huon has choreographed numerous works, including her recent work Preah Anurudh Preah Neang Ossa, created with support from the ACC/Rockefeller Mentorship Program. Neak Kru Sok Huon has toured extensively in the United States, Canada, and throughout Asia and Europe.

Penh Chumnit Lakhaon Kaol dancer After having trained to become a professional Lakhaon Kaol dancer, I got involved in contemporary dance. I strongly believe that new creativity in the arts will disseminate Cambodian culture on an international platform; I also believe my involvement will give me a broad understanding of the arts. I am one of the first to do contemporary dance in Cambodia. I worked with Thai choreographer Pichet Klunchun in a series of workshops and we exchanged our views and knowledge. We created a new work based on the story of Machanub, an episode of Weyreap’s Battle; we named it Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants. It was to me a contemporary dance because the choreographer allowed us to use our imagination, our own form of dance, our role, our movements, and our improvisations. It was a great work; we presented it several times in and outside the country, and from that, we learnt many things. As a result, we shared what we learned among fellow artists about how to create a contemporary dance and how creativity can be developed. Together with a group of young dancers, I created Compass dance ensemble and we work together, dedicated to the and development of Cambodia’s dance. So far, we have developed two works — Inside Dancer and Feeling. We want to develop this initiative into a form that will bring international to Cambodia.

preservation

recognition

Penh Chumnit was born in 1981. In 1991, with support from his parents andfellow dancers, he began training in Lakhaon Kaol at the age of 11 at the Secondary School of Fine Arts in Phnom Penh, where he received his high school degree in 2000. Chumnit performs the giant role of the classical male masked dance tradition. During his studies, he choreographed a number of Lakhaon Kaol works based on episodes of the Reamker. He has performed locally in special occasions and on TV. He performed the lead giant role of Weyreap's Battle, a very Lakhaon Kaol production that has been featured at successful Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, Melbourne International Arts Festival, Australia and the BITE Festival of the Barbican Center in London. He has also performed in other countries throughout Europe and Southeast Asia. Chumnit was part of Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants, a contemporary reinterpretation of Weyreap's Battle. He continues to pursue his interest in contemporary work and is a member of Trey Visay (Compass) dance ensemble.

Phon Sopheap Lakhaon Kaol dancer I am proud to be an artist. Chance has given me hope for my future. When I was young, I had a dream — that was to be a good teacher and a talented dancer. I needed a lot of effort and patience to achieve that. My family was not rich, but that never stopped me from pursuing my dream. I used to faint during practice because I did not have money for my breakfast. I kept telling myself to move forward. When I finished my dance classes, I attended the music classes. I thought music would give me more opportunity to get a job to earn some money for my family and for my study. After a lot of hard work, I achieved quite good results. Today I earn my living from music performances and have the privilege to on local and international stages. Friends questioned me why I wanted to pursue a career in the arts, as my family was so poor; that was the very motivation that made me try and practice harder.

perform

A Monkey’s Mask Choreographed and performed by Phon Sopheap (2007) Photographer: Kang Rithisal

I have worked with international artists and have learned and performed contemporary dance. I worked with Peter Chin from Canada, Miroto Martinus from Indonesia, Pichet Klunchun from Thailand, and other artists. I learned how to create new and gained experience in moving differently. I was nervous at the early stages of my contemporary dance development I felt it might be insane to dance like that. It was so and required moving all the time. The more I was involved, the more I explored the freedom of it. I found myself developing my physical skills as a dancer. It has inspired me to be keen on creating new ideas and I choreographed a new work, A Monkey’s Mask, in Surabaya, Indonesia. When I created A Monkey’s Mask, I thought about my old form, for which I spent 10 years of my life training. Based on my new form, I thought I would create a new work. I made the dance go from a human to a monkey and back to a human — this way I could still dance in a very similar way to my old form. Also, the monkey role would entertain people. I remembered discussing the gap between classical and contemporary work and earlier also recalled how I had danced in Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants by Pichet Klunchun, a Thai choreographer. But then I was stuck on what to do when I danced but did not have anything with me besides a monkey soldier’s mask. The next day I decided to take off my shirt and I danced with my mask. For me, contemporary dance is very new to Cambodians but it is interesting for the younger people. The old food is not for us all the time. The new food is new but good or bad, it depends on the person who tastes it. People expect new food. I want to walk my life on a bigger, freer path; I want to share my experience about personal development in the arts with the younger generation. I wish to do three things: develop myself in the arts, initiate another form of arts in Cambodia and inspire the young to be active in what they wish to pursue.

movements because imaginative

delicious

One more thing I would like to mention here. I have observed

the artists who do their choreography for their final school exams — they just do similar works and we all know we should try to do something new. New does not mean that we have to use foreign dance techniques. There are, of course, ways to do new things with the old forms and we can also use foreign techniques as supplementary ingredients.

Born in 1981, Phon Sopheap studied Lakhaon Kaol in 1999, majoring in the monkey role. In 2000, he pursued his study at the Faculty of Choreographic Arts from where he graduated in 2000. In 1996, he worked with a Cambodian-French choreographer in a contemporary work, Rainbow. He collaborated with Pichet Khmchun, a Thai dancer and choreographer, in creating a contemporary work based on traditional Lakhaon Kaol, Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants which was

featured at the openingfestival of the National Museum of Singapore 2007, the Singapore Arts Mart and Malaysia's 2008 TARIfestival. He participated in workshops with Miroto Martinus, an Indonesian dancer and choreographer, exploring contemporary dance based on traditions. He joined the Young Choreographer Training Workshop in Surabaya in July 2006 as part of the Indonesian Dance Festival VIII and created a contemporary piece titled A Monkey's Mask which was selected to be part of the subsequent Indonesian Dance Festival in Jakarta and was also performed at the 2007 Singapore Arts Mart at the Esplanade. He was a dancer in Transmission of the Invisible, choreographed by Canadian choreographer Peter Chin, that performed at the French Cultural Centre's Recontres Internationales de Theatre 2007 under the auspices of King Sihamoni and later toured to Canada. In addition to the countries mentioned above, Sopheap has toured and performed in China, Vietnam, Australia, England, and Thailand.

Proeung Chhieng Monkey role dancer of Lakhaon Kaol and Vice Rector at the Royal University of Fine Arts After the fall of the Khmer Rouge in 1979, I had the privilege to be part of a movement to restore and preserve the surviving Cambodian performing arts — the precious heritage of our great ancestors. At that time, the Cambodian people were at the starting point of recovering from miserable conditions. In the important mission of the Khmer arts revival, I had an opportunity to have meetings with arts leaders of the Rockefeller Foundation, Asian Cultural Council, Cambodian Network Council, and Jacob’s Pillow Festival in the United States in 1992. The leaders

Photographen

Unknown

Proeung Chhieng teaching the monkey role Royal University of Fine Arts (1998)

at

the

understood the urgency and importance of restoring Cambodian classical dance and initiated the Mentorship Program with from the Rockefeller Foundation in order to provide assistance to the dance department of the Royal University of Fine Arts. During my ACC-sponsored artist’s residency in the US, I met with a number of amazing artists who were exploring and contemporary works. Their contemporary performances were very innovative and strange to me. Yet it stirred my interest and I have always wanted to see the development of contemporary works in Cambodia. During the steady process of successful rehabilitation of the arts in my country, I participated in dance conferences and workshops, which enabled me to deepen my understanding of contemporary dance with international artists. They came to Phnom Penh to work with our young Cambodian dancers of the Royal University of Fine Arts to experiment and create new works by creatively mixing the classical dance techniques with the contemporary dance concepts, with the aim of creating a Cambodian contemporary dance form in the future. With the limited experience I obtained from my 10-year in the contemporary dance creative workshops in Phnom Penh and dance conferences and workshops abroad, I was able to give my artistic advice to the young dancers who are presently looking into and doing contemporary dance. I advised them to study the cases of contemporary dance development in countries that share a similar cultural origin like Indonesia, Thailand and Laos. I suggested that young dancers and international contemporary dancers use the dance movements of the monkey and giant roles of Lakhaon Kaol in their creative and experimental process. There have been creative and experimental efforts by the young artists and feedback from Cambodian and foreign artists and audiences. As a result, a very interesting contemporary work was created based on the Lakhaon Kaol story of Weyreap’s Battle called Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants. The musical accompaniment of the work was performed by the Sralai (oboe-like reed instrument), Skor Thom (large twin drums), Sampho (double-sided drum), and Chhing (cymbals). The work has been very well received by both local and international audience. The success of this work is

support financial creating

participation

the seed of hope for the young artists to pursue their efforts, and hopefully, there will eventually be a contemporary dance section in the RUFA dance department. Proeung Chhieng is currently a Vice Rector at the Royal University of Fine Arts. Born in 1949, Chhieng was trained from the age of seven in the role of Hanuman, the white monkey general in the Reamker, and was a star dancer in the Cambodian classical dance. He went on a scholarship to pursue his studies in North Korea, and when the Khmer Rouge assumed its power in 1975, he chose to return to Cambodia and survived by hiding his true identity. In 1979, he, as well as his surviving colleagues, re-established RUFA as a central site for communication and education for the performing arts of Cambodia. Lok Kru Chhieng created links to the refugee in Thailand, USA and Europe, and guided efforts to rebuild a fragmented and largely undocumented repertory. During the last 20 years, he has organized performance tours throughout the world (including the first post-war USA tour in 1990s), arranged for foreign scholars to teach and carry out research, and represented Cambodia at a number of important international conferences, symposia and workshops, furthering his mission to communicate the meaning and importance of Cambodian dance. Lok Kru Chhieng was co-director of the Cambodian Arts Mentorship Program, a teaching and documentation programme administered by the Asian Cultural Council. He was a senior consultant to the Japan Foundation-funded Dance Notation Project and an adviser to Cambodia’s Minister of Culture. He received the John D. Rockefeller 111 Award of the Asian Cultural Council for his significant contributions to the study, understanding and practice of Cambodia’s performing arts. He is regarded as a great artist, actor, performer, director, and teacher of the Cambodian performing arts. Recently, he has been involved in film productions that will potentially lead to the establishment of a Faculty of Film at RUFA.

communities

choreographer,

Pumtheara Chenda Classical dancer I started classical dance training at the age of eight. The training is very hard and requires a lot of effort and patience. The classical dance movements are usually slow and when we dance, we have to tighten all the muscles in our body to make the movements flow in a very clear, elegant motion in parallel with the internal emotions. This makes it a tough job for the dancers. I had to train hard to become a good dancer. I was lucky enough to listen to Master Chheng Phon explaining the connections between the internal emotion and external expression and how to combine them effectively — this was very helpful to me. However, I regret that I was a careless and lazy student. I was a good dancer and the teachers worked me hard. Not all the are loved and trained hard by the teachers. I was playful and did not practice hard and as a result, my dancing capacity decreased and I didn’t dance proper classical dance. Not dancing properly means that my hand gestures were not fixed at the right position, my body postures were not firm, and so on. That was bad and I needed teachers to train me all over again to gain it back. I promised to work hard if I had the opportunity again. I did. I became a dancer in Pamina Devi, choreographed by Sophiline Cheam Shapiro. Due to my efforts this time, I had the opportunity to dance the lead role of Pamina when it toured to the United States in 2007. After the production, I had to leave dancing again. I was recruited as an official of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts where I was assigned to the Film Department. I have to spend one year to get my full membership before I go back to dancing. Nonetheless, I have not given up dance completely. Every weekend I give classes to students at a local NGO and that gives me a chance to continue with my classical dance. As a dancer, I get both appreciation and criticism. There were times in my younger years when I was so upset to hear someone saying that a ‘dancer does nothing but raise their hands and legs on stage’. In spite of this, dance has given me precious experiences in my life. I’ve gained international exposure through performing in different parts of the world. It is rare to have this chance. Now I can happily do my part-time job. I wouldn’t have been who I am now if I were not a dancer. I will continue my hard work in dance.

students

Known as Mom, Pumtheara Chenda was born in 1985 and started her classical dance training at the Secondary School of Fine Arts when she was eight. In 2002, she pursued her studies at the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts and obtained her BA in classical dance in 2006. Her work for the final BA examination, Phokol Koma, received a very good grade. In 2003, she participated in a

choreography six-week

playwriting course by a renowned American playwright. As artist of the Cambodian Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, Mom has toured to perform in Japan, Korea, Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand. Furthermore, she worked with the renowned Cambodian dance choreographer Sophiline Cheam Shapiro in 'Pamina Devi', a reinterpretation ofMozart's Magic Flute, featured at the 2006 New Crowned Hope Festival in Vienna, Austria. In the five-week tour of the same production to the United States, Mom danced the lead role (Pamina). Besides classical dance, she has performed in a couple of an

modem theatre productions including the Compagnie Articule's Theater Orléans, France. Currently, she is a government official of the Film Department, Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, works as the Master of Ceremony of Children's Education programme o/Bayon TV and teaches classical dance. tour to

Sam Sathya Female role classical dancer and teacher I am a female role dancer and teacher of Cambodian Classical Dance. In 2004, with the support and by arrangement with Amrita Performing Arts, I participated in a dance festival in Bali, Indonesia. In the festival, the artists were very young, aged between 10 and 15 years old. After a week, I continued to work with other Indonesian dancers in Surabaya. It was the very first time that I saw dance. At first, I was not so sure about this dance. I could feel butterflies in my stomach when I joined in with the other contemporary dancers on the first day. I had no idea what the dance movements should be but saw that they were very different from my classical dance. I talked to my teacher and told him that this style of dance was new to me but I was willing to try it. I did

contemporary

Khmeropédies II Performer: Sam Sathya; choreographed by Emmanuèle Phuon (2009) Photographer: Anders Jiras

the dance and felt it was extremely hard for me due to my very different dance training. I observed ballet dance movements, and I knew for sure that ballet dance and Khmer classical dance are quite different. I also observed the flexible bodies of the other artists who were my age. I asked a fellow dancer about his background. He told me he had been an Indonesian traditional dancer and had trained to become a contemporary dancer. He also shared with me the fact that a dancer not trained in contemporary dance would inevitably find it difficult to begin with. During the workshop, I approached my teacher and asked, ‘Does each movement have a meaning?’ ‘It’s really up to us to define our feelings to decide what we want to do,’ replied my teacher. It was like reading Pali to me. ‘Where should I start if I want to do it?’ I spent two weeks with them and saw a number of contemporary dance works, which broadened my mind and my understanding. I have seen Western contemporary dance and some Asian contemporary works. From this experience, I am particularly in contemporary dance that is based on the classical Khmer form. I prefer this idea. I witnessed how Malaysian dancers did their contemporary work based on their traditional form. I personally don’t like Western contemporary dance as it is very ‘fleshy’. I joined Toni Shapiro and Sophiline Cheam Shapiro at a dance conference in Canada and watched Canadian dance performances, progressing from fully dressed to almost naked, which was unacceptable to me. From my experience in Asian countries like Indonesia and Malaysia, I’ve developed my interest in contemporary dance and want to involve more Cambodian dance students in this. However, I don’t mean to leave behind our traditional dance forms. The most vital factor to acknowledge is that we have to have a good understanding of our own original dance. As I get older, I find the movements of contemporary dance physically more challenging, but I keep trying. When I see younger artists doing their work, I wish I were younger so that I could turn myself into a contemporary dancer.

interested

However,

contemporary

contemporary

Sam Sathya was born in 1969 and started learning classical dance, majoring in the female role in 1981. She finished school in 1988 and became a classical dance teacher a year later. Neak Kru Sathya is a

of dance. She dances the role of Seda (Sita) in the Reamker in all the performances of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, including the Ramayana Festival at Angkor Wat temple. She was lead dancer in the contemporary classical dance pieces by the renowned Cambodian choreographer Sophiline Cheam Shapiro including Samritechak (a reinterpretation ofShakespeare's Othello), Seasons of Migration, and Pamina Devi (a reinterpretation ofMozart's The Magic Flute). She has represented Cambodia in many international and

star dancer at the school

local conferences and workshops. She has choreographed several classical dance works and worked in a number of contemporary dance pieces. She has toured extensively to the United States, Canada, Australia, and throughout Europe and Asia. Most recently, Neak Kru Sa thya was one of the lead dancers in a new work of Cambodian contemporary dance entitled Khmeropédies II by French/Khmer choreographer Emmanuèle Phuon.

Sam Savinn Classical dancer When I was young, I didn’t really know what classical dance was. I was just a kid who loved watching performances on TV and at public venues. One of my neighbours, Muth On, is an elder teacher of classical dance. Due to my developing interest in dance, I asked my parents to send me to the school. Through my complete ignorance of the dance, I was not ready for the difficulties during the early part of the training. It was so hard for me to do the hand and leg positions and body bending. It was not related to anything that I had learnt in the public school prior to this. But I loved the dance. I paid attention to learning the dance and observed the performances of the elder students. At the school, I had to take dancing classes in the morning and general education classes in the afternoon. My home was far away from the school and my father sometimes gave me a lift to school, but usually he was busy. It never stopped me from wanting to learn dance. It was my choice and interest.

My hard work eventually paid off. I was given a chance to

perform on stage for the first time and I was so nervous. Prior to this,

I had only been sitting in the audience, but this time I was on stage and hundreds of eyes focused on me. My teachers and the elder dancers comforted and encouraged me and I did quite well. After years of training and performing in Cambodia and abroad, I am so proud to have been part of the force to bring Cambodian culture to the world. I also took the opportunity to learn about the culture and performing arts in the countries where I have Presently, there are newly revived works of classical dance, and so I have been busy in performing in these works. It is wonderful for me to contribute to transferring the knowledge of the dance to the next generation. I really love doing this.

performed.

Sam Savinn started classical dance training in 1989 at the Secondary School ofFine Arts. Her teacher assigned her to train in the male role. However, when she graduated from the school, her physical stature was more suited to the female role, and so she is now considered one of the best interpreters of the female role. She performed the main role of Ream Leak, Chub Leak in the Reamker in France when she was 13 years old. She has performed in numerous classical dance dramas both in Cambodia and abroad. She has toured extensively across Europe, Asia and the United States. Currently, she is a dance teacher at the Secondary School of Fine Arts.

Sang Phorsda Classical dancer The arts are a vital branch of culture and a country’s culture can be featured through the arts. The arts are the ‘soul engineer’ and the ‘heart doctor’. I have a great love for dance and music. After observing my interest in the arts, my parents sent me to study dance at the Royal University of Fine Arts. I started school and had to go through very hard training with the teachers at the school. It was a tough job doing the daily physical bending to shape

classical

our bodies and do well in classical dance. The more I learnt to dance, the more enthusiastic I became. I have a strong belief that dancing will contribute to the promotion of my culture. Training in classical dance is very back-breaking. Hand and physical gestures require incredible flexibility and there are traditional restrictions on the positions and the The expressions of the different emotions in classical dance also play an important role. I’ve always been happy to accept the challenges I have faced. Besides classical dance, I took time to learn folklore dance, singing, and theatre. I have been involved in the Bassac Cambodian opera theatre and the Bassac theatre master encouraged me to learn this too when he saw my interest in doing creative work. When I perform Bassac theatre, I have to dance, do facial expressions, speak, and sing. I am very shy about doing that because in classical dance you do not have to take up all of these elements. Through much hard work, I managed to do better. After several months, I performed in the theatre and it was great in spite of the preperformance nervousness. I was delighted. Moreover, a film production company contacted me to in their new film. I was so surprised when the company asked me to perform the lead role in the film. I couldn’t believe it and didn’t let the chance go by. With the artistic experiences from classical dance and Bassac theatre, I knew I could do it well. What was more exciting to me was that I had never performed the lead role in either classical dance or Bassac theatre and now I have performed the main role in a film. Acting in films is less difficult than live performance on stage because I can do it again if I make a mistake. However, there were different challenges that I had to face. For instance, we had to shoot the same scene countless times and I had to climb tall trees, eat raw chicken, and so on. The film was very well received and made me proud and excited. I have also participated in contemporary dance workshops with Cambodian and international artists, where I had the to learn new ideas. I learnt that modern dance is new and more up-to-date. It is not a complete U-turn from the traditional to the modern but it was another challenge for me. Contemporary dance does not have any rules — not like those that I had to learn in classical dance. In contemporary dance, a dancer has to be in creating new things based on his or her own classical form.

numerous movements.

perform

opportunity

creative

The contemporary form is created by the Khmer and so should be characteristically Khmer. I joined other Cambodian artists to perform a contemporary work and the people who came to see it enjoyed it, although the audience for contemporary work is still limited. We are not reluctant to persist, however, as this is just our starting point. It is another very good experience for me and I am very enthusiastic about contemporary dance and wish to create and perform more works. Overall, the time I have spent in the arts has given me more ideas about myself and made me love the arts more than before. I am grateful to all around me for all the sharing. Born in 1989, Sang Phorsda began her classical dance training at the age of nine and finished high school in 2007. As a female role dancer, she has performed in numerous productions for the Secondary School of Fine Arts for special occasions and festivals. She has also travelled to perform in Thailand, Brunei, Korea, and China. Herfirst involvement in contemporary dance was when a delegation from the World Dance Alliance Asia Pacific came to Cambodia in January 2006. Detecting in herself a passion for contemporary work, she has participated in various workshops. She was also part of the performance Homage to Cambodia with Battery Dance from New York in the presence of the Besides classical dance, Phorsda has developed her artistic talent and skill in performing Lakhaon Bassac (Cambodian opera theatre). After herfirst time as a performer in a Bassac production, she became the lead female peifonner in her second Bassac production. Phorsda has also appeared in a number of educational film productions.

King.

Sao Rithy Folklore dancer and teacher Although I have recently started doing new things in dance, that doesn’t mean I’ve given up my folklore dance. I just want to deepen my interest in creativity in the arts. When we do the traditional dances, we have a lot of pressure. If I want to create a

folklore dance work, I have to do serious research on the topic of the dance that I will be doing. I have to spend a lot of money in its creation. Cambodian folklore dance is the form that is related to our traditions, beliefs and way of life. There are times that the work created is criticized by the older teachers and not necessarily in a constructive way. There is not much freedom for personal expression in the arts. These are the challenges for a folklore dancer. In contrast, contemporary dance is very new to Cambodia and here, it is still based on the traditional forms. However, I think contemporary is a more comfortable form for me to work with. I enjoy using my own ideas and doing new things to create dance, yet all those new things are born out of the traditional form. I just have to make adjustments in expressing the dance. I have in contemporary dance workshops with international artists and I remember that one of them told me that ‘contemporary dance is all about the idea and the dancers have the freedom to express their ideas in the dance’. Dancers are responsible for their own dance movements and they are not pressured by anyone or anything. They are doing their own contemporary dance.

participated

Rithy was born in 1980 and, at the age of 12, began his folklore training at the Secondary School of Fine Arts, where he became a folklore dance teacher. Rithy also choreographed a number offolklore dance works during his study at the school. As a dancer, he has performed in national events in Cambodia and abroad. Fie has participated in various contemporary dance workshops including with the Battery Dance Company from New York in the presence of the King and has developed his enthusiasm for creating contemporary works. He is a member of Trey Visay (Compass) dance ensemble and will graduate from the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts in 2009. Rithy also teaches private folklore dance classes. Sao

dance

Sek Sophea Folklore dancer and researcher As an artist, I am concerned that the performing arts heritage is becoming extinct. After the Angkor period, Cambodia was in decline due to war and especially the Khmer Rouge's regime. As a result of this, the intangible heritage suffered a lot. Performing arts heritage is the talent, the flesh, the blood of Cambodia. The heritage is the pride of the nation. Preserving this heritage is a very difficult task.

Classical and folklore dances of Cambodia are oral traditions. There are no documents. The means of transferring the traditions from one generation to another is through teaching and dance training. We only have the history of the dance. Pich Tum Kravel, probably the most important Cambodian performing arts scholar, did a lot of research and documentation of Cambodia’s performing arts. I also contributed by doing more research and documentation on the technical aspects of dancing including basic movements of all the major roles in Lakhaon Kaol and classical dance, and movements of folklore dance. Besides this, I am part of a group developing contemporary dance. I decided to get involved in this because I think that over time, audiences would like to see something new. But I think we have to create contemporary dances based on our own traditions, rather than relying on foreign influences. My idea is if we want to do a contemporary dance work, we should start with a workshop so that the older teachers and artists can participate in the creative process. In that way, they can advise which traditional forms we should use for the new work whether it is classical dance, folklore dance, Lakhaon Kaol, or Lakhaon Mohori (a traditional form of dance theatre). I think we can change or adapt up to 20 or 30 per cent of the monkey and giant roles of classical dance, 30 or 40 per cent of folklore dance, and 70 or 80 per cent of Lakhaon Mohori. If more students and audiences are interested in contemporary dance, the schools can include it in the school curriculum.

fundamental

Sek Sophea is a senior dance teacher at the Secondary School of Fine Arts. Born in 1966, he went to the school and was trained in Lakhaon Kaol in 1980. In the early years following the reopening of the fine arts

school after the Khmer Rouge's regime, all the Lakhaon Kaol artists were also trained in folklore dance. In 1989, he became a dance teacher of both Lakhaon Kaol (specializing in the giant role) and folk dance. Besides

teaching, Sophea has done research and documentation on the history of Khmer dance and its farms. He has toured extensively to perform in Singapore, Thailand, Japan, throughout Europe and several times to the United States (including the first post-war tour in the 1990s). Sophea is head of the folklore dance section.

Seng Kalivann Classical dancer and folklore dancer The first year I studied dance, I practiced the fundamental dance movements of the monkey dance and the butterfly folklore dance. A number of teachers — Tith Sen, Uon Sophon, Soeur Thavarak, Em Sothy, Keo Malis, and Heang Nayto — were influential in my becoming a professional dancer. As well as being a folklore dancer, I’ve also done contemporary

dance and am a member of the Compass dance ensemble. There are several reasons for me to get involved in contemporary dance: my keen interest in learning new things, my desire to experiment in a new form, my wish to initiate contemporary dance in Cambodia, and my dream to be a professional contemporary dancer. As a choreographer, one has to take into consideration the setting and the movements, then one can think about adding music, spacing, and costumes. Physical performance is usually harder than a vocal one. I was part of the Compass dance ensemble to create a new work entitled Inside Dancer. New elements were explored in this: big free movements, musical accompaniment, spacing, and costumes. We worked together as a whole group step by step. We also our traditional dance in a different venue from where we were accustomed to perform. I have performed in the city and in the provinces of Cambodia. Dance is appreciated by the people, especially during public events although, for sure, we are still running behind pop dancers and singers. As for contemporary dance, when we performed there

practiced

was some criticism regarding our dance movements and music. At the same time, there was interested appreciation of this new initiative that entertained the audience quite well. It is a good chance for me to be one of the pioneers in dance in this country. I worked together with other dancers, exchanging ideas, interacting with international artists and performing with them. These are good developments for dance. There are a few obstacles for this progress too, such as lack of financial support and encouragement. The more artists that get support and encouragement, the more students will practice hard at the school, and the more the school will develop its interest in contemporary dance. Contemporary dance fosters creativity and quality within the artists and contributes another form of the arts to Cambodian culture, the same way as it has done in India, China and Malaysia.

contemporary contemporary

Seng Kalivann was born in 1982 and began his training in folklore dance at the Secondary School of Fine Arts when he was 11. During his study, he co-choreographed several folklore dance pieces and joined forces with other senior folk dance teachers and masters to do research and documentation on the 'Cardamom Picking Dance'. As a dancer, he has performed in many events of the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts and toured to a number of countries in Southeast Asia, Currently, he is pursuing Ms study in Anthropology at the Royal University of Fine Arts. He continues to perform and gives private dance classes; he is also a member of Trey Vasay (Compass) dance ensemble.

Sin Sakada Classical dancer When I started my study at the dance department, I was training in the female role in classical dance. Before that, I was not so interested in classical dance. My real interest was in music — I wanted to be a pianist. However, my mother loved classical dance so much that she sent me to the Secondary School of Fine Arts against my wishes.

Not long after, I subconsciously developed a love for classical dance. I am the only person in my family who is an artist. All the others are businessmen and employees. Since I finished the school, I have been teaching dance there. Dance is part of my life and has taught me a lot. At the same time, I have learnt about contemporary dance. When I am exposed to contemporary dance, I am interested in it. The first time I got to know this form was when I participated in a dance festival in Malaysia, ‘Creating Contemporary Work’, where I met and interacted with artists from different countries. I was fortunate to be able to work in small groups with the participating artists. Each of us was asked to create a short new piece of work and then we had to put it together to make a group work for showcasing. This concept was strange to me, but I did it and was glad to have had this experience. For me, contemporary dance requires a lot of movement and my physical condition is fine for that. In classical dance, we did very hard basic training since we were young, and this helps in contemporary dance. We can really develop in this kind of dance. I have also participated in other workshops with international artists; this gave me further experience and understanding of contemporary dance and my body has become much better for performing in both contemporary and classical dance. Let me say that the arts are really one of the most special things in my life. I am grateful for all the opportunities I have had through dance. Born in 1988, Sin Sakada began her training at the Secondary School ofFine Arts at the age ofnine and graduatedfrom the school in 2006. In 2008, she became a classical dance teacher at the school ofdance. She is usually a principal dancer in the classical dance works choreographed by HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi and other classical dance masters. When the Battery Dance Company from New York presented their in Phnom Penh in 2006, Sakada was one of the dancers performance in Homage to Cambodia. She has toured extensively throughout Asia and Europe. She is also a film starfor the productions by King Father Norodom Sihanouk and King Sihamoni and received a gold medal for her starring role in a production by King Sihamoni.

Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants Performers: Soeur Thavarak (top) with Khieu Sovannarith; choreographed by Pichet Klunchun (2006) Photographer: Kang Rithisal

Soeur Thavarak Lakhaon Kaol dancer I worked with Thai artists on a contemporary dance work a few years ago entitled Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants. A question I raised to the group was whether this would hurt the old teachers who feared that their traditional performing arts heritage would be destroyed. The answer we got was, ‘It will.’ The older teachers were concerned about their old forms and so it was even more important that we had to do something new, yet not inconsistent, with the old form. I agreed to continue working in contemporary dance, as I wanted to experiment with this new form and yet pay great attention to keeping our traditional base. In the work, I explored the distinctive aspect of classical work and contemporary dance work. We study classical dance by starting with the basic dance (kbach) of the giant and monkey roles and progress to more complicated ones. All the movements express the meanings and emotions consistent with the sung texts and music. In rehearsals, we do not need to wear the real costume, but in the performance, the dancers have to wear a mask and heavy, tightly sewn costumes such that it is difficult for them to breath and move. The dance needs a properly decorated stage for performance. For contemporary dance, the dancers can use classical dance movements but emotion is extremely important; sometimes the dancers can express more than one emotion at the same time. In the work we did, we used electric torches as weapons and did not wear masks. Sometimes the narrator and musicians also acted. It was hard for the Cambodian audience to understand as it dealt more with the internal conflicts within a dancer. For the costumes, the dancers wore only long loose pants and tee shirts and performed at the same level as the audience, rather than the raised stage commonly used in classical dance performances. The work was successful and we presented it a number of times within and outside Cambodia, including a special performance for the King.

gestures

Soeur Thavarak was born in 1968 and went to the Secondary School of Fine Arts in 1980 where he was trained in Lakhaon Kaol

and folklore dance. He is now a senior dance teacher and head of the folklore dance section. As a student and teacher at the school, Lok Kru Thavarak has choreographed a number of Lakhaon Kaol works and advised his students on their choreography. He was also part of the Japan Foundation-funded Dance Notation Project. He performed the lead monkey role in 'Weyreap's Battle' featured at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok, Melbourne International Arts Festival 2005 in Australia and Barbican's BITE Festival 2007 in London. He was a dancer in Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants, a Cambodian contemporary work based on Lakhaon Kaol traditions featured at the

openingfestival of Singapore Arts Museum, the 2007 Singapore Arts Mart and the TARI Festival in Malaysia. Thavarak has also toured to the United States and throughout Europe and Southeast Asia.

Soth Somaly Classical dancer and choreographer I was fortunate to learn classical dance from the late classical dance masters in the royal palace and years ago received my BA in classical dance choreography. These are the most inspiring factors to encourage me to create and revive new classical dance repertoires — a total of 10 dance pieces and 10 dance dramas. It has always satisfied me to know that these great works will be the ones that the younger generation of artists will learn as they pursue their own careers. When I create or revive a classical dance, I try to study what the story is about, select the classical musical accompaniment, write the lyrics, study the characters and the choreography. These are the things I always have to work on when I take up new works. What is also very important are the artists who perform in my work and the elder teachers who assist me artistically. Musical selection, lyric writing and choreography are the hardest jobs in order to create or revive a work. In spite of the pieces I have completed, I have been thinking of how to sustain the revival and creation of new works. I have learnt from the Yike Cambodian musical theatre and Bassac Cambodian opera theatre

Sovannahong Performer: Vuth Chan Moly (daughter of Soth Somaly (2008) Photographer: Anders Jiras

and also worked with a contemporary dance group from France in the 1990s; thus, I think we can add new elements influenced from other performing arts forms to the classical dance by carefully maintaining the nature and integrity of the dance. If we can use Khmer music, songs and movements in a more creative way, we can make our classical dance not too traditional and our dance not too alien. Doing this is not destroying our ancestors’ important artistic heritage. I always hope that the Cambodian artists have great enthusiasm for their Cambodian arts heritage and a strong commitment to preserve this dance legacy. Development of this dance is welcome; however, significant attention should be made in order to remain utterly faithful to the dance and not destroy it. If a work is an of classical dance, it must be clearly stated so as to avoid misunderstanding. Classical dance is still badly in need of funding from international funding organizations in order for the artists to continue their vital mission of reviving and promoting this form by creating and recreating the classical works, researching and documenting the dance, its history, and supporting the classical dance masters. The products will be valuable resources for the Cambodians to have better knowledge of this and to bring Cambodian culture to the world.

contemporary

experimentation

Soth Somaly was born in 1962 and went into the Royal Palace when she was five for her classical dance training. In 1971, she pursued her study at the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts. After the Poi Pot regime, she continued her studies and received her BA in 2003. She has choreographed numerous classical dance works and advised students on their new creations. She has performed extensively throughout the in Cambodia and has toured provinces throughout Europe, Asia and the United States. She is currently the Deputy Director of the dance department of the Secondary School of Fine Arts, and Head of the classical dance section.

Sovannahong Performer: Vuth Chan Moly (2008) Photographer: Anders Jiras

Vuth Chan Moly Classical dancer and teacher When I started at the School of Fine Arts, I did my training in classical dance. When I became very proficient in the dance, I began other training in folklore dance, modern theatre, Yike traditional musical theatre, and Bassac Cambodian opera theatre. As a classical dancer, I had to go through a tough training process before I could become one of the best dancers. To become a good dancer, I had to train hard at school, at home and at my teachers’ homes. There were times I felt lazy, but the feeling just disappeared when I witnessed the efforts of the teachers to train their students. I learnt classical dance from the important dance masters: Soth Sam-on, Penh Yom, Pen Sok Huon, and my mother Soth Somaly. I now teach dance at the school and never stop dancing. I’ve been very much involved in all the contemporary dance initiatives in Cambodia. I decided to go further into this despite not having a proper understanding of what it was — it was my dream to dance freely. I was also keen to explore the distinctive aspects of classical dance and contemporary dance. I wanted to try something new and see how the audience would react. I tried doing new works with friends. We created small pieces of dance that expressed how we felt. We added music to accompany the dance movements. Then we fixed our spacing on the stage, worked out a very basic lighting and costume design. I have been part of a few contemporary dance works and I love three things about the works. First, I can dance freely. Second, I can do my own innovative dance movements. Last, both classical and modern music can be integrated to accompany the dance. When I worked together with other dancers on our dance experiments, we used a lot of improvisation. We discussed what we wanted and then we improvised to help create that idea on stage. We do not have a teacher who can give us daily contemporary dance classes. We keep working by sharing the experiences we have had during workshops and conferences we have attended with international artists. We presented our contemporary works and people were quite happy with them although there was criticism. People told us to add more classical movements, to make them more ‘spectacular’, to pay more attention to the technique, and so on.

contemporary

Contemporary dance is unprecedented in Cambodia, so it is a challenge for dancers to pursue it. It can be compared to the way that Cambodian people love their Khmer soups and a foreign soup may or may not impress them. A good artist is like a good cook who can blend the right ingredients. Personally speaking, I am very enthusiastic in furthering my career in contemporary dance. I can express myself freely through my dancing and no one will draw a line for me to walk on. I am independent to do my work. If it is not this generation, who will initiate contemporary dance and when? I want to work hard on contemporary dance. We have pioneered this; although we have so little knowledge about it, we hope it will bear fruit for the next generation. Born in 1981, Vuth Chan Moly began her training in classical specializing in the giant role and Neay Rong (male role). She was also trained in Neang (female role) and folklore dance. In 2003, she graduated from the RUFA Faculty of Choreographic Arts with a BA degree in Cambodian classical dance choreography. As a dancer, she has been working with renowned artists such as Proeung Chhieng, Sophiline Cheam Shapiro, HRH Princess Norodom Buppha Devi, and, most importantly, HM King Norodom Sihamoni. During her studies at RUFA, she created a number of works, three of which were well recognized and performed on various special occasions. She has toured and performed extensively throughout Asia, Europe and the United States. She has participated in workshops with young ASEAN Dancers; French modern dance students; Miroto Martinus, an Indonesian dancer and choreographer; and delegationsfrom the World Dance Alliance Asia Pacific. Presently, she is a classical dance teacher at the Secondary School of Fine Arts and a member of Trey Visay (Compass) dance ensemble.

dance,

Yim Savann Lakhaon Kaol dancer I am a Lakhaon Kaol dancer and perform the giant role. I am also trained in folklore dance and Mohori theatre. I’ve toured extensively abroad.

Trasmission of the Invisible Performers: Left — Yim Savann, Right — Phon Sopheap; choreographed by Peter Chin Photographer: Cylla von Tiedemann

When I was young, I liked dancing and playing musical

instruments at home. Whenever my mother brought me to see a performance, I was always very interested in the monkey and giant

roles. I liked being as naughty as a monkey. I always wanted to be a dancer. I went to study dance, finished school in 2000 and became a professional artist at the Department of Performing Arts. I learnt many things about Cambodian dance from my teachers. That is a great thing about my dance study. What is more exciting to me is the fact that I am moving towards being more independent and having more freedom through exploring contemporary dance. I have been creating new dances by combining the classical traditional form with freer, new and expressing my own feelings. This has brightened my life and broadened my mind. It is very innovative and I feel free doing this type of dance. I have also improved physically as a dancer and am now very enthusiastic about doing something more abstract. I’ve travelled a lot and seen amazing artists doing their abstract dance works. I loved it and have learned a lot; I told myself I wanted to do something like this in my own way and express my feelings as a Cambodian dancer. I’ve used my classical form to interpret the new work I wanted to do. I also combined all these with the new dance techniques I learnt from my interactions with other international artists. I’ve done a couple of choreographies with my dance ensemble It was great doing this work and I will pursue this direction in the future.

different

movements

fascinating

Compass.

Born in 1982,Yim Savann started his training in Lakhaon Kaol in 1991, majoring in the giant and monkey roles. After nine years of hard training, he became a professional artist at the Department of Performing Arts of the Cambodian Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts. He is also trained in Cambodian folklore dance, and has performed in Lakhaon Mohori, a theatre form based heavily on folklore dance traditions. He has toured and performed in France, China, Thailand, and Australia. In January 2006, he participated at the ASEAN Youth Camp in Brunei, which involved young artists from ASEAN countries, and collaborated with an Indonesian dancer to create Hanuman Seduces an Indonesian Lady. In 2005, he worked with Thai dancer

and choreographer Pichet Klunchun and created a contemporary work based on traditional Lakhaon Kaol Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants. He has also participated in workshops by Miroto Martinus, an Indonesian dancer and choreographer, exploring contemporary dance based on tradition. In July—August 2006, he participated in the Watermill Center 2006 International Summer Arts Program at the invitation of Robert Wilson and the Byrd Hoffman Water Mill Foundation in the United States. Savann performed in Transmission of the Invisible, choreographed by Canadian choreographer Peter Chin, performed at the French Cultural Centre's Recontres Internationales de Theatre 2007 under the auspices of King Sihamoni and toured to Canada. Recently, Savann performed in a new work titled Seven Sisters at the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts in —

Perth, Australia.

Yon Davy Folklore dancer I went to the Secondary School of Fine Arts in 1993, where I started learning a number of dance pieces in both the classical and folklore dance forms. In 1996, the teachers assigned me to folklore dance, and I graduated from the school in 2003. After school, I became a dancer at Sovanna Phum Arts where I had opportunities to perform and participate in various dance workshops. I participated in a contemporary dance workshop in Indonesia in 2008 where I had the chance to see and deepen my understanding of contemporary dance. I also created a work as part of the workshop. I considered the following points: the topic, movements, music, spacing, and timing. In the dance, I created movements and did facial expressions. I also observed that contemporary dance was different from and folk dance in that a dancer could perform a number of roles and the tempo was based on the dancer’s feeling. Creative development of contemporary dance involved a discussion of ideas amongst the artists and they then created the work step by step

Association,

classical

Homage to Salmodia —

Performers: Yon Davy (second from front) with dancers from the Secondary School of Fine Arts workshop/performance with NY-based Battery Dance Co. (2006) Photographer: Kang Rithisal

based on their imagination and feelings. The dance movements of individual dancers were based on their traditional forms plus their own creativity. Now I keep on doing both folklore dance and contemporary dance. My dream is to become a choreographer. Yon Davy was born in 1984, and went to the Secondary School ofFine Arts when she was nine years old. Upon her graduation from the school in 2003, she became a dancer at Sovanna Phum Khmer Arts Association, where she has performed in its

regular programmes and participated in number of contemporary workshops and showcases. She was also a dancer in Homage to Cambodia with the Battery Dance Company from New York in the presence of the King. Recently, she has performed in a contemporary work, Look at Us, under the direction of a Dutch director. Davy also teaches private classes ofclassical andfolklore dance a

in various schools and NGOs and has toured to Thailand and Sweden. She is currently pursuing her Associate of Business Management course at the Cambodian University for Specialities.

Glossary Boran Classical. KbachGesture or motif. Classical court dance; this form is danced entirely by female dancers. The primary roles include the female, male and giant roles. Only the monkey role is performed by male dancers.

Robam Kbach Boran

Lakhaon

Referring to a theatre form. Lakhaon precedes the particular genre that is being referred to. There are over 20 forms of Cambodian theatre and music. Examples include: Classical male masked dance theatre. A popular form of musical theatre incorporating various forms of folk dance and theatre. Cambodian opera theatre. Cambodian musical theatre. Kben The traditional rehearsal and practice ‘uniform’ for classical dance; a threemetre long piece of fabric wrapped around the waist then twisted and pulled through the legs to form pantaloons. A blessing practiced prior to a in which performers bless their deceased masters and request ‘permission’ to embody the role, bless the space and wish for a successful performance.

different

Lakhaon Kaol Lakhaon Mohori Lakhaon Bassac Lakhaon Yike

Sompeah kru

performance

Reamker The Cambodian version of the Ramayana epic. Neak Kru Respectful address to an elder female master. Lok Kru Respectful address to an elder male master or guru. Pin Peat Traditional orchestra which classical dance and Lakhaon Kaol consisting of percussion, wind and xylophone-like instruments as well as vocalists who narrate the story. RUFA Royal University of Fine Arts.

accompanies

Bibliography Note: These are references available in English but there are many more in French, Khmer and other languages. Blumenthal , Eileen. 1990. ‘ The Court Ballet: Cambodia’s Loveliest Jewel’, Cultural Survival Quarterly , vol. 14 (3): 35–38. Brandon, James R. 1993. The Cambridge Guide to Asian Theatre. UK : Cambridge University Press. Burridge Stephanie. 2003. ‘ Ah Hock and Peng Hui interview’, Esplanade Diary. February. ——— (ed.). 2006. Shifting Sands: Dance in Asia and the Pacific. Ausdance (Australian Dance Council). Chandler, David. 1992 (1980). A History of Cambodia. Boulder: Westview Press. Chet Chan, Daravuth Ly and Ingrid Muan. 2001. The Reamker. Phnom Penh: Reyum Publishing. Coedes, George, 1984 (1963). Angkor . Trans. and ed. Emily Floyd Gardiner. Singapore: Oxford University Press. Cravath, Paul. 1985. ‘ In Flower: An Historical and Descriptive Study of the Classical Dance Drama of Cambodia’. PhD dissertation. University of Hawaii. ———. 2007. ‘ Earth in Flower: The Divine Mystery of the Cambodian Dance Drama’. Holmes Beach, Florida: DATAsia, Inc. Ghosh, Amitav . 1998. Dancing in Cambodia, At Large in Burma. New Delhi: Orient Blackswan. Ghulam-Sarwar Yousof (ed.). 2004. Reflections on Asian-European Epics. Singapore: Asia–Europe Foundation. Goldberg, Jill. 2009. Article in Plank Magazine. Posted and accessed 1 February 2009. Laban, Rudolf . 1971. The Mastery of Movement (3rd edn). Revised by Lisa Ullmann . London : MacDonald & Evans. Leakthina, Chau-Pech Ollier and Tim Winter (eds). 2006, Expressions of Cambodia: The Politics of Tradition, Modernity and Change. London and New York : Routledge Curzon. Ledgerwood, Judy. 1990. ‘ Changing Khmer Conceptions of Gender: Women, Stories, and the Social Order’. PhD dissertation. Cornell University. Mannikka , Eleanor. 1996. Angkor Wat: Time, Space, and Kingship. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press.

Marchal, Sappho. 2005 (1927) Khmer Costumes and Ornaments of the Devatas of Angkor Vat. Bangkok: Orchid Press. Maspero, Georges . 1929. Un Empire Colonial Français: l’Indochine, vol. 1. Paris: G.Van Oest. Mehta, Julie B. 2001. Dance of Life: The Mythology, History and Politics of Culture. Singapore: Graham Brash. Miettinen, Jukka O. 1992. Classical Dance and Theatre in South-East Asia. Malaysia and Singapore: Oxford University Press. Mohd Anis Md Nor (ed.). 2007. Dialogues in Dance Discourse: Creating Dance in Asia Pacific. Kuala Lumpur: WDA-AP, Cultural Centre University of Malaya and Ministry of Culture, Arts and Heritage Malaysia. Pich Tum Kravel. 2001. Khmer Dances. Phnom Penh: Toyota Foundation. Roveda, Vittorio, 2000 (1997). Khmer Mythology: Secrets of Angkor. Bangkok: River Books. Sarkar Munsi, Urmimala (ed.). 2003. Time and Space in Asian Context: Dance in Asia . West Bengal: World Dance Alliance. Shapiro, Sophiline Cheam. 1997. ‘ Songs My Enemies Taught Me’, in Kim DePaul (ed.), Children of the Killing Fields . New Haven: Yale University Press. Shapiro-Phim, Toni. 2002. ‘Dance, Music, and the Nature of Terror in Democratic Kampuchea’, in Alexander Hinton (ed.), Annihilating Difference: The Anthropology of Genocide, pp. 179–93. Berkeley: University of California Press. Shapiro- Phim, Toni and Ashley Thompson. 1999. Dance in Cambodia. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Shapiro-Phim, Toni and Naomi Jackson. 2008. Dance, Human Rights, and Social Justice: Dignity in Motion. Lanham, Maryland: Scarecrow Press. Snipper, Chick. 2009. ‘ Who is Peter Chin?’, Plank Magazine. Posted and accessed 9 February 2009. Stock, Cheryl. 2005. ‘The Interval Between … The Space Between … Concepts of Time and Space in Asian Art and Performance’, in Urmimala Sarkar Munsi (ed.), Time and Space in Asian Context: Contemporary Dance in Asia . West Bengal: World Dance Alliance. Turnbull, Robert. 2006. ‘ A Burned-out Theater’, in Leakthina Chau-Pech Ollier and Tim Winter (eds), Expressions of Cambodia: The Politics of Tradition, Modernity and Change . London and New York : Routledge Curzon. Walker, Susan. 2008. Article. Toronto Star. 8 February. Zarina, Xenia. 1967. Classic Dances of the Orient. New York: Crown Publishers.

Cambodian

Contemporary

Catalogue Rodin and the Cambodian Dancers, His Final Passion , 2006, Editions du Musée Rodin.

Web References ‘ Dance the Spirit of Cambodia’, http://www.asiasourse.org/cambodia/gosh01. htm

Esplanade Theatre Studio. 2008. Aether. 2008. Lucy Guerin Inc. (Australia). Singpore. February. ———. 2008. Jué Aware. Beijing Modern Dance Company. Singapore . February. JAMUAN Bisu … PARAdis e …? Choreography Gerard Mosterd and Boi Sakti, University Cultural Centre Hall , Singapore, September 2007 LICADHO, Violence Against Women in Cambodia, January 2006, http://www. licadho.org/reports/files/77LICADHOReportViolenceAgainstWomen05. pdf Reviews by Stephanie Burridge on Flying Inkpot, www.inkpotreviews.com Amrita Performing Arts, www.amritaperformingarts.org www.apsara-art.org www.artcafe-phnom-penh.com www.cambodianlivingarts.org www.epicarts.org.uk/cambodia www.khmerarts.org www.kakiseni.com www.meta-house.com www.phareps.org www.reyum.org www.sovannaphum.org www.tinytoonescambodia.com

Index Amrita Performing Arts 38, 63–64, 99–100, 125, 144, 148; ‘Revitalizing’ project of 83 Angkor Wat temples xx, 39, 116, 131, 144; as Apsara 140; Ramayana Festival at 189 Apsara Arts Association 144 Apsara dance xx, 4–5, 60, 148 Arts Network Asia project 150–51 Asia–Europe Foundation’s Point to Point dance workshop in Poland 152 Asian Cultural Council 143 Asia–Pacific region, performances in 121 Ballet Classique Khmer 2; training eligibility for 5 Ballet Royal du Cambodge 116 Bassac opera 143 Bayle, Thierry xx, 6, 60 Borin, Hang xxi, 159–62, 160 Borin, Kor 92 Brazilian capoeira 147 Breaking the Silence 65 Buppha Devi, Her Royal Highness Princess Norodom ix, xx, 1, 6–7, 8, 13, 33, 148; teaching dance 96 Burridge, Stephanie 8, 139 Cambodia x–xi, 26, 45; dance in xx; modern dance arrives in x; revival of Khmer classical dance in 7, 15, 27, 65

education

Cambodian, culture 4; dance 65–67, 84, 140; dance and World Heritage Status by UNESCO 146; dancers xxi, 2, 61–62, 84–85; Living Arts 144; masked dance 63n2; Support Group 144 Chaktomuk Theatre 11, 63, 92, 102, 104 Chamroeun, Vy 142 Chankethya, Chey xx, 39, 34, 126, 152; choreographic works of 39 Chanmoy, Roth 177 Chansoda, Chen 123 Chenda, Pumtheara 186–87 Chhieng, Proeung, xxii, 4, 141, 182–85, 184 Chin, Peter 89, 108, 152, 207 Choreographic Arts, faculty of 35 choreographic structures 133 Chumnit, Penh 142, 178–79 Clarke, Martha 147 Claudel, Camille 58 Cloud Gate Dance Theatre 122 Compass dance ensemble 77–82 contemporary dance 11–13, 67–9, 122–24, 129; choreographic structures in 133; differences in 130–33; flow in 136–37; in global village 122–24; movement and vocabulary 128–30; pedagogy of 127–28; performance 134, 137–38; representational forms in 137; space134–36; time 133–34 ‘Contemporization’ 124 Cunningham, Merce 148, 149

Damrhung, Pornrat 85 dancers, as ‘cultural preservers’ 38; cultural identity of 127; as ‘servants of gods’ ix Dancing in Cambodia, At Large in Burma by Amitav Ghosh 95 ‘Dancing Off Centre’ xxi Davy, Yon 209–11 domestic violence 46, see also women in Cambodian dress, Samput Chanken and Aue Lakhaon 17 Duclos, David 98 Duncan, Isadora 129 Duong, Aung King 33 Fallières, Armand 52 Ford Foundation 143 Frames of Life 147 French Cultural Centre 7, 38, 116, 144; Phnom Penh theatre festival of The History of Preah Kongkea 152 Frumberg, Fred 63–64, 90, 154 Gehry, Frank’s 118 Ghosh, Amitav 88 Goddess of Water 157 Graham, Martha 129, 148, 149 guru, or dance master 127; legong 127 Homage to Cambodia 174, 210 Humphrey, Doris 129 Huon, Neak Kru Pen Sok 77 Huon, Pen Sok 176–78, 177 Hwai-min, Lin 122, 124 institutions for dance 37–39 Jayavarman, King 148 Kalivann, Seng 196–97 Kalyann 42–48, 51 Kaol dance 146 Khan, Akram 124

Khmer Arts 49, 144 Khmer Arts Academy 147 Khmer Arts Ensemble 91, 114, 115 Khmer classical dance 11–13, 14; at palace 5–7; restoration process 2; revival and preservation 7–8, 146–54 Khmer Rouge, of Pol Pot, xix, xxi, xxii, 32, 66, 110, 113, 140, 141, 153; demise of 5; devastation of 40; execution of artists in 1; fall of 5, 74, 114, 143, 147, 182; survived dancers 96 Khmer, classical dance ix, institutions 30–32; learning 28–30; origins of 26–27; role of 27–28 Khmeropédies Part I 147 Khmeropédies Part II 126, 142, 188 Klunchun, Pichet 73, 152 Kasumiso Foundation 144 Kossony, Menh xxii, 170–73 Kuen, Tang Fu 20 Kunthea, Ken 146–47 Lakhaon Kaol 141, 145, 150 Lakhaon kbach boran 63n2 Lakhaon: Rencontres Internationale de Theatre Festival 92 Les Nuits d’Angkor’ 115 Lewis, Peter B.’s Theater of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum 118 LINC (Leveraging Investments in Creativity) 38 Linda, Hem 123, 142; 162–64 Lok Ta Eysey, (the supreme spirit/ teacher of the arts) 41 Low, January 20 Ma 124 Mallarmé, poet 54 Martinus, Miroto 150, 151, 158, 181, 182, 206, 209 ‘master teacher’ system xxi, 124 Metry, Vong 144

Michelangelo 59–60 modern dance 129, see also dance Mohamed, Zulkifli 63 Mohd Anis Md Nor 151 Moly, Vuth Chan 202, 204, 205–206 A Monkey’s Mask 152, 180 Moon Water 134 Mozart 147–48; The Magic Flute of 75, 147

contemporary

Naline, Chhim 155–56 National School of Fine Arts 115 New Crowned Hope Festival in Vienna 75 Ngean, Lim How 150 Nyboran, Chhorn 167 Pamina Devi 114, 116, 147; USA tour of 115 Pen, Hun xx, 14–25, 20; as Apsara dancer 24; in France 21; training with Chea Samy 18–19 Pharan, Mot 112 Phillips Center for Performing Arts at University of Florida 115 Phirom, Sao 112 Phorsda, Sang 191–93 Phuon, Emmanuèle 142, 147, 152 Pilika, Piseth 48n Pin Peat musicians 16 postmodernism 129 Preah Anurudh Preah Neang Ossa 34, 77, 167, 177, 178 Preah Chinavong 16 Reamker 2, 7, 41, 110–11, 145, 148 Revitalizing Monkeys and Giants 69–74, 150–51, 160, 199 Reyum Institute of Arts and Culture 144 Rilke, Rainer Maria 56 Rithy, Sao 193–94 Robam Boran 145 robam boran chh’nai dances 118

Rockefeller Foundation 146; funding from 7, 143; mentorship programme 146 Rodin, Auguste xx, 54–60; drawings of 59; worship of female body 59 Roth, Sisowath Neary 33 Royal Ballet as ‘divine messengers’ 5 Royal University of Fine Arts (RUFA) 3–5, 32–33, 49; divisions of 144–45; or Department of Performing Arts 115; faculty of 33 Sakada, Sin 197–98 sampeah kru ceremony 97 Samritechak 109–13, 115, 147 Samy, Chea 15–16, 17–19 Sathya, Sam xxi, 92, 126, 187–90 Savann, Yim 91–92, 96–98, 157, 190–91, 206–209 Schlemer, Joachim 147 Seasons of Migration 116 Secondary School of Fine Arts 35–36, see also RUFA Seen: Silent 20 Sellars, Peter 75 Shapiro, John 91 Shapiro, Sophiline Cheam 74–77, 83, 91, 112, 120, 147 Shapiro-Phim, Toni 51 Shir Ha-Shirim 112 Sihanouk, Norodom King 1–2, 3, 13, 141, 145 Sina, Koy 166–70, 167 Sisowath Kossomak Neary Roth Serey Vaddhana, Queen xx, 5, 111, 148, 176 Sisowath, King I 52 Sodhachivy, Chumvan (Belle) xxi, 126, 152, 156–59 Sokhom, Mok xxi, 173–76 Somaly, Soth xxii, 40–41, 43, 201–203 Song of Songs 118 Sophea, Sek 195–96

Sopheap, Phon 89, 91–92, 96–98, 126, 152, 179–82, 181, 207 Sophiline, Neak Kru 74–75, 77 Sovanna Phum Arts Association 144 Sovannahong xx, 6, 123, 202, 204; review of 8–11 Sovannarith, Khieu 164–66, 165, 199 Space 134–36 Svay, Kean 92 TARI Dance Festival 150 Thavarak, Soeur 199, 200–201 Theay, Em 140 Toul Sleng Museum xxii Toyota Foundation 143, 146 training, dance 36–37 Transmission of the Invisible 86–88, 207; chronology of 88–93; reviews, and evaluation 101–108 Tribal Crackling Wind 89 UNESCO 103, 144 UNESCO/Japan Funds in Trust 146

programme

Ung, Chinary 117 University of Fine Arts 144; and King Sihanouk 141; through ‘Funds in Trust’ programme 144 Vannvattey, Mom 177 Vanny 48–51 Vilain, Jacques 58 von Tiedemann, Cylla 91, 98 Western dancers 125 Wigman, Mary 129 Willis, Garnet 91, 98 Wilson, Bob’s Watermill Center 152 women in Cambodia 46, 50 World Dance Alliance (WDA), Singapore 62–63, 151–52 World Dance Alliance Global Assembly in Toronto 90, 154 Wright, Lloyd 118 Yike traditional music theatre 143 Yiphun, Chiem 147; her work Apsara 147