22
Stephen Davies, Philosophy, University of Auckland Important note: This is a ;inal draft and differs from the de;initive version, which is published in International Yearbook of Aesthetics, 4, (2000): 2242. I have been assured by the University of Auckland's research of;ice that if they have made this publicly available then it does not violate the publisher's copyright rules. Balinese Musicians' Assessments of Recorded Performances There can be no doubt that Balinese music is alive. Some twenty types of gamelan ensemble are in use. Of these the most common is gong kebyar, with about 1500 groups. Some other types of ensemble, such as beleganjur, anklung, and gender wayang, are very common. Despite this proliferation, one might wonder about the health of Balinese music and the effects that performances for tourists have on this. The ethnomusicologist, Jacques Brunet, is one who sees a falling away in the performance standards of Balinese kebyar and who attributes this mainly to a desire to cater for tourist demand and taste. I quote him at length, since he makes several points that I will consider. 'The recordings presented here are an echo of the spirit in which kebyar was played during the 60s, according to the styles and forms born of the traditional music and dance teaching in each village. But tourism has wrought havoc. ... One of the greatest dangers for contemporary Balinese music is the attraction of musicians for accelerating the tempi, which pays no regard to nuances. The modern world, the desire to put on "spectacular shows" for tourists, and more and more "technical" virtuosity taught at the conservatory have created the current situation in which, with the exception of a few villages that have held on to their cultural autonomy, have made us spectators to the decline of the great kebyar tradition into insipidness. ... The Peliatan gong "Gunung Sari" was the most prestigious in Bali for a long time. ... This orchestra is probably the most [Since] the 1980s, the musicians have given themselves over to giving almost daily performances for tourists and have perhaps lost their soul forever.' (sleevenotes, Les grands gong kebyar des annés soixante, 1994:22-25) Such views are by no means unusual among Westerners with a long-standing familiarity with Balinese music.

Balinese Musicians' Assessments of Recorded Performances

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Stephen  Davies,  Philosophy,  University  of  Auckland

Important  note:  This  is  a  ;inal  draft  and  differs  from  the  de;initive  version,  which  is  published  in  International  Yearbook  of  Aesthetics,  4,  (2000):  22-­‐42.  I  have  been  assured  by  the  University  of  Auckland's  research  of;ice  that  if  they  have  made  this  publicly  available  then  it  does  not  violate  the  publisher's  copyright  rules.

Balinese Musicians' Assessments of Recorded Performances

There can be no doubt that Balinese music is alive. Some twenty types of gamelan

ensemble are in use. Of these the most common is gong kebyar, with about 1500

groups. Some other types of ensemble, such as beleganjur, anklung, and gender

wayang, are very common. Despite this proliferation, one might wonder about the

health of Balinese music and the effects that performances for tourists have on this.

The ethnomusicologist, Jacques Brunet, is one who sees a falling away in the

performance standards of Balinese kebyar and who attributes this mainly to a desire to

cater for tourist demand and taste. I quote him at length, since he makes several points

that I will consider.

'The recordings presented here are an echo of the spirit in which kebyar was played during the

60s, according to the styles and forms born of the traditional music and dance teaching in each

village. But tourism has wrought havoc. ... One of the greatest dangers for contemporary

Balinese music is the attraction of musicians for accelerating the tempi, which pays no regard to

nuances. The modern world, the desire to put on "spectacular shows" for tourists, and more and

more "technical" virtuosity taught at the conservatory have created the current situation in

which, with the exception of a few villages that have held on to their cultural autonomy, have

made us spectators to the decline of the great kebyar tradition into insipidness. ... The Peliatan

gong "Gunung Sari" was the most prestigious in Bali for a long time. ... This orchestra is

probably the most [Since] the 1980s, the musicians have given themselves over to giving almost

daily performances for tourists and have perhaps lost their soul forever.' (sleevenotes, Les grands

gong kebyar des annés soixante, 1994:22-25)

Such views are by no means unusual among Westerners with a long-standing familiarity

with Balinese music.

Bali is a tourist Mecca. Some anthropologists have argued that the Balinese arts have

been sustained and invigorated by tourism (McKean 1978:96; Ornstein 1971:15, 56).

This, too, is the position of the local government and the Balinese intelligentsia; a

debate in the Bali Post between December 1988 and April 1989 concluded that tourism

has revived the interest of Balinese in their traditions, reinforced their sense of identity

and pride, and stimulated artistic creativity. The government policy of Cultural Tourism

introduced in the 1970s promoted both tourist development and cultural preservation,

while insisting that these two objectives are connected and compatible (Picard 1990). A

different position is taken by others. Some anthropologists have argued in general that

tourist art, because it is commercialized and commodified, can no longer be an authentic

expression of the local culture. Forced to dance to the tune of the tourist dollar, the

locals dish up a kind of ethno-kitsch that cartoons the traditional genres and, thereby,

they sacrifice the autonomy and quality of their culture's art (Greenwood 1978). Some

Balinists take a similar view. Picard (1990) thinks that the distinction between

economic and cultural value has been blurred to the point where the fate of Balinese

culture is entrusted to the interested care of the tourist industry (also see Vickers

1989:198).

As Balinists like Picard, Vickers, and Bruner (1996) have argued, the relation between

tourism and culture is complex and subtle. Tourism is not something apart from

Balinese culture; not something that impacts on it only from the outside. Rather, it is

internal, because it connects with and grades into all aspects of social life and because it

can be as responsive to them as they are to it, so that the causal interactions not only

flow in both directions but also are reflexive. That tourism is integrated with, and

subsumed by, other dimensions of social existence within Bali does not mean, however,

that it is pointless to ask questions that draw us into an examination of the intricacies

and functional dynamics of these relationships.

The interviews

Rather than engaging with Brunet's concerns via the theoretical literature, I chose to

address them in a much more direct and practical fashion. Through interviews, I set out

to discover if Balinese musical experts acknowledge changes in performance standards

over the years. I also hoped to identify the factors seen by the Balinese as influencing

performance and musicianship. Two considerations recommended this approach:

(A) Balinese musicians are culturally self-conscious and sophisticated. They are

aware of the history of works and of the styles they play, they have a developed theory

and technical terminology, and they make aesthetic evaluations in a way that is familiar

to Westerners. The critical comparison of different performances is thoroughly familiar

to the Balinese. They have organized and judged competitions for gong kebyar from

about 1915.

(B) Balinese music was first recorded by the companies of Odeon and Beka in

1927-28 (see McPhee 1979:10, 71). More recordings were made on 16" acetate disks

by the Fahnestock expedition in 1941. And since the early 1960s, many discs and tapes

have been issued. Because they span so many years, these recordings allow for detailed

comparison of performances, thereby revealing what has altered, what is variable, and

what has been retained. In some cases it is possible to hear how a given work has been

treated, or how a particular group has played, over several decades.

For the interviews, I made tapes that juxtaposed excerpts from recorded performances.

I discussed these tapes not only with acknowledged masters from the older generation,

but also with respected younger musicians. Though I was mainly interested in kebyar,

which is performed at tourist concerts as well as for Balinese in the temple, I also

included kecak and gender wayang -- the former because it is presented exclusively for

tourists and the latter both because its audience is Balinese and because it is regarded as

sacred. Rather than asking directly about changes in performance standards, or about

possibly deleterious influences on these, I invited the musicians to compare the taped

excerpts. This they were most willing to do. Besides discussing performances, the

interviewees often described their careers and the influences that shaped their musical

tastes and performance style, as well as reflecting more generally on the current musical

scene.

The interviews were conducted in August 1996. I Wayan Gandra of Peliatan discussed

kecak. I Wayan Loceng of Sukawati and I Nyoman Sudarna of Denpasar conversed

about gender wayang, as did I Wayan Wija of Sukawati. Kebyar was covered by I

Wayan Tembres of Blahbatuh and by I Wayan Gandra of Petulu. Dewa Putu Brata of

Pengosekan and I Wayan Sanglah of Lodtonduh represented the views of the younger

generation (that is, of those in their 20s or early 30s). The dancer, Anak Agung Gedé

Oka Dalem of Peliatan discussed legong, as did Tembres. I was assisted in the

interviews by I Made Berata of Peliatan.

The interviews with Wija, Gandra of Petulu, and Oka Dalem were in English. The rest

took place in both Indonesian and Balinese, with Made Berata asking the questions and

consulting in English with me about the replies. All the interviews were taped.

Translations were made by Made Berata, Kuming Tirtawati, and myself.

The evaluative terms

In Bali, good playing displays taksu (B), which means inner (spiritual) strength or

power. Taksu may be a quality of the performer, or of the piece, but, in the interviews,

the term referred primarily to the quality of the playing. Another general term of praise

was bagus (I) (good). Kebyar playing should be bobot (I) (weighty).

A distinctive feature of Balinese music is kotekan (B), the interlocking combination of

two rhythmically articulated parts to present a single melody or pattern. Typically,

kotekan is played at high speed. When the interviewees were asked to be specific about

the technical features responsible for conferring taksu on a performance, it was the

steadiness, clarity, and rhythmic accuracy of the kotekan to which they most often drew

attention. Precise (incep (B)) drumming or key-striking was praised, as was

definiteness and clarity in the space (jarak (I)) between drum or key strokes. In the case

of the metallophones, precision and clarity also depend on key-damping technique

(tetekep (B)), so this also was evaluated. Because of their central role as leaders of the

ensemble, the two drums were expected to provide an unwavering beat. Any playing

that was unclear was poor.

Gong kebyar and legong

Gong kebyar originated in north Bali in the second decade of this century and spread to

other areas in the 1920s and 1930s. It now is the most popular form of Balinese

gamelan. "Kebyar," which means "bursting open" or "flaring up," refers to the

aggressive, loud, metrically irregular passages that characterize this music.

Early recordings of kebyar

Kebyar Ding: 1928 by Gong Belaluan of Badung (Music from the Morning of

the World, from Odeon 204730/1; and an extract of the same

piece from Pankung (Music from the Morning of the World, from

Beka 15620).

Genderan: 1941 by Gamelan Gong of Ubud ("Genderan", Music for the Gods,

track 4).

Gambang: 1941 by Gamelan Gong of Ubud ("Gambang", Music for the Gods,

track 9).

Kebyar Ding was composed in the north specifically for gong kebyar. The piece is

called "ding" because of the note on which it begins. Its structure is not of the modern

five-part type. While he judged the playing to be very good, Tembres thought the piece

was monotonic and long-winded (bertele-tele (I)) and the kotekan too simple for the

current taste. A modern version would alter the form, shorten the piece, and a repair

(perbaikan (I)) would be made to the kotekan. Gandra of Petulu first heard these 1928

versions of Kebyar Ding in the 1960s when he was teaching gamelan at the University

of California, Los Angeles. He brought the piece back to Bali and taught it at the

KOKAR conservatory. He also taught it to Gunung Sari, but the spirit, the feeling for

the music, was not good. Both Dewa Brata and Sanglah were familiar with the modern

version of the piece taught at the STSI conservatory. Sanglah, who had never heard the

original, believed that the younger generation would find it lovely if they knew it. But

Dewa Brata shared the wider view: the rendition of 1928 is not to the taste of modern

audiences or musicians.

Unlike Kebyar Ding, Genderan and Gambang derive from gender wayang. Both pieces

have remained in the gender repertoire and have been incorporated in subsequent

kebyar works, so are well-known. Though the 1941 versions were said to be good, the

interviewees regarded them as unsuitable for modern performance. The kotekan was

too simple. The style of Gambang was more characteristic of kebyar, in that the

kotekan was played by the reyong while the various gangsa carried the melody, but in

both pieces the notes were simply transferred to gong kebyar. Also, their structures

were not of the modern variety. New works based on these pieces would use and

develop the borrowed material in only part of the piece, with newly composed music

introduced in the other sections. The motives from Genderan would be used in the

introductory section, while Gambang would yield material for the middle parts.

Kebyar "classics"

For the comparison of performances, I chose kebyar pieces that have the status of

"classics." All of these have been played often since their composition and are currently

featured in tourist performances in the Ubud region, as well as in temple ceremonies.

The group discussed by Brunet in the quote given earlier, Gunung Sari, appeared often

in the chosen excerpts, which included the performances from the 1960s that Brunet

recorded and judged to be far superior to the current fare.

Teruna Jaya dates from before 1920 and was composed by Gedé Manik, but it first

appeared in south Bali (Belaluan, Denpasar) in 1954 and was revised in 1960 (Ornstein

1971:118). The recorded excerpts were as follows:

1970 from Sawan ("Taruna Jaya", Les grands gong kebyar, disc 1, track 1);

1970 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Kebjar Teruna", Bali South, side 1 track 2);

1972 from Sebatu ("Taruna Jaja", The Earth Greets the Sun, track 5);

1985 by Tirta Sari of Peliatan ("Tarna Jaya", Gamelan Semar Pegulingan [I],

track 1);

1990 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Teruna Jaya", Golden Rain: Gong Kebyar of

Gunung Sari, track 7);

about 1990 by Sadha Budaya of Ubud ("Taruna Jaya (Dance of a Young

Winner)", Dancers of Bali, track 4);

1993 from Tejakula, Singaraja ("Tarna Jaya", Gamelan Gong Kebyar [III], track

3).

Oleg Tambulilingan was created by Mario of Tabanan in the 1951 (see Coast

1953:107-14). The recorded excerpts were as follows:

1966 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Bumblebee (Tumililingan)", Golden Rain:

Balinese Gamelan Music, side 1, track 2);

1969 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Oleg Tambulilingan", Les grands gong

kebyar, disc 1, track 4);

about 1970 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Tumililingan", Music from Bali:

Played by the Gamelan Orchestra from Pliatan, side 1, track 2);

1990 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Oleg Tamulilingan", Golden Rain: Gong

Kebyar of Gunung Sari, track 6);

about 1990 by Tirta Sari of Peliatan ("Oleg Tambulingan (Love Dance and

Bees)", The Very Best of Legong, track 5).

Kebyar Terompong was created by Mario in the 1920s (see Covarrubias

1972:232-235). The recorded excerpts were as follows:

1962 by Pelegongan of Abian-Kapas of Sanur ("Legong", The Music from Bali,

side 1, track 3);

1970 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Tari Terompong", Court Music and Banjar

Music, side 1, track 5).

Sekar Jepun dates from the late 1960s and was composed by I Wayan Gandra of

Petulu. Unlike the other pieces, which are dances, it is an instrumental piece. The

recorded excerpts were as follows:

1970 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Sekar Djepun", Court Music and Banjar

Music, side 1, track 1);

1970 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Sekar Djepun", Bali South, side 2, track 1);

1990 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Sekar Djepun", Golden Rain: Gong Kebyar

of Gunung Sari, track 1);

about 1990 by Tirta Sari of Peliatan ("Gamelan 'Sekar Jepun'", The Very Best of

Legong, track 1).

Changes in the works

Classic kebyar works are not preserved unchanged. The general trend over the past

thirty years has been toward more complex kotekan, a faster tempo, and a reduction in

overall length. Different groups have introduced their own alterations.

Tembres compared recordings of Oleg Tambulilignan from the 1960s and 1970s with

those of the 1990s. In the early days, the tempo was slower because, at that time, the

dance involved more constant action. The basic melody was varied a little, but only the

five highest keys were used for angsel (sharply accented syncopations introduced in

response to dance movements). The contemporary versions employ more variations and

use more angsel, including ones on the five lower keys. Gandra of Petulu noted that the

long kotekan for reyong featured at the opening of Sekar Jepun is now faster and more

complex than it was when the work first appeared.

Tembres believed that, while changes and variations should be incorporated in the

classic works, these should not become excessive. In the case of Teruna Jaya, he

thought that the recordings of Gunung Sari (1970 and 1990), Sebatu (1972), Tirta Sari

(1985), and Sadha Budaya (about 1990) all introduce too many alterations to the basic

work. He preferred the performances from Sawan (1970) and Tejakula (1993), both

from the north where the piece originated. Teruna has more significance and is more

dearly loved in the north, he felt. Similarly, both Dewa Brata and Sanglah thought the

northern kebyar style, with its dramatic contrasts, is better for Teruna. The current STSI

conservatory style employs more gradual crescendos and diminuendos which, though

the result is aesthetic and refined, are inappropriate for this piece.

Apart from the general features mentioned above, there is another respect in which

contemporary kebyar playing was identified as differing from that of 30 years ago: the

present style is aggressive. Gandra of Petulu lamented this and commented on the

difficulty of teaching musicians to adopt the older, comparatively more relaxed, type of

playing.

Performances Compared for Quality

The standard of performance was judged to be high for all the excerpts. In general,

though, the recent performances were thought to be less good than the best of the older

ones. For instance, Tembres thought the playing of Kebyar Terompong nowadays to be

always less precise than that of Gunung Sari in 1970. In the rendition of Oleg

Tambulilingan, Tembres regarded Gunung Sari and Tirta Sari in about 1990 to be

neither so steady nor so clear as Gunung Sari in the 1960s. Gandra of Petulu thought

that earlier versions of Oleg were better because the musicians then had "more heart"

for the music.

Not all the performances of the 1960s and 1970s were regarded as good, however.

Tembres thought the playing of Gunung Sari in 1971 was poor in Teruna Jaya and

merely adequate in the reyong part of Oleg Tambulilignan. The performance from

Sanur in 1962 of Kebyar Terompong was judged not to be satisfactory. Also, not all

performances from the 1990s were equal, though all groups could be faulted in some

respect or other.

Legong

Legong is a repertoire of dances that originated in the Nineteenth Century. Only

Legong Lasem (also knows as Legong Keraton) is played widely now. Tourist concerts

often include it.

The taped excerpts of Legong Lasem were as follows:

1969 by Gunung Sari of Peliatan ("Legong Kraton", Les grands gong kebyar,

disc 1, track 5);

1985 by Tirta Sari of Peliatan ("Legong Kraton", Gamelan Semar Pegulingan,

track 4);

about 1990 by Sadha Budaya of Ubud ("Legong Kraton (Legong of the King of

Lasem)", Dancers of Bali, track 2).

All the interviewees agreed that the sweet, light sound of the seven-toned semar

pegulingan orchestra (of which Tirta Sari is an example) is better suited to legong than

the weighty, aggressive tone of gong kebyar (of which Gunung Sari is an example).

Despite this general preference, Tembres thought the playing of Legong Lasem by

Gunung Sari in 1969 was superior to that of Tirta Sari in 1985. (For his taste, there

were too many drum-strokes in each of the performances, but the playing in both was of

a high standard.)

The interviewees expressed concern about the future of legong. Tembres thought that

works like Legong Semarandhana could be lost, because young musicians are not

learning them now. Gandra of Petulu suggested that young musicians do not enjoy

playing such music. This was denied by Dewa Brata, though he was of the view that

some in the Balinese audience no longer like or understand such music.

Kecak and Gender wayang

Although I was primarily interested in kebyar, the music singled out for criticism by

Jacques Brunet, it was relevant to consider other musical ensembles. I investigated

kecak (or "monkey dance"), on the grounds that, if any music is debased and inferior by

indigenous standards, it should be that created and performed only for tourists. And I

considered gender wayang, the music played by a quartet of gender to accompany the

Balinese shadow puppet plays (wayang kulit (I)) deriving their stories from the

Mahabharata epic, because it is among the oldest and most sacred of Balinese musics, it

is one of the most demanding in instrumental technique, and it is rarely played for

tourists. Fascinating though they were, these interviews did not significantly alter the

picture, so I treat them only briefly below.

The recorded excerpts for kecak were as follows:

1941 from "southern Bali" ("Kecak", Music for the Gods, track 10);

1962 from Bona ("The Ketjak of Bona", The Music from Bali, side 1, track 1);

1966 from Peliatan ("Ketjak", Golden Rain: Balinese Gamelan Music, side 2,

track 1);

about 1970 from Peliatan ("Ketjak (with male chorus)", Music from Bali: Played

by the Gamelan Orchestra from Pliatan, side 1, track 3);

1970 from Peliatan ("Tjak", Music Atlas, side 1, track 1);

1990 from Ganda Sari of Bona (Kecak and Sanghyang of Bali);

about 1990 from Bona Sari of Bona (Kecak of Bali: Monkey Dance: Bona Sari).

According to Gandra of Peliatan, the tempo was slow and only the simplest interlocking

pattern was used in the 1941 recording from "southern Bali." The narrator's singing was

striking for its "classical" style. The best of the recordings, he thought, is that of the

Peliatan group from 1966. But the performance of the same group a few years later (the

Music Atlas recording of 1970) is poor; in particular, the beat is not positive. He

regarded the recent recordings from Bona as rhythmically unclear and believed that his

Peliatan group is better.

Gandra of Peliatan commented adversely on the current rapidity of change. Not many

alterations were made between 1970 and 1990 and different groups gave very similar

versions. But recently, all groups have become obsessed with departing from the basic

pattern.

The taped excerpts of gender wayang were all from the pemungkah (the instrumental

introduction to the shadow puppet play):

1928 from Kuta (Music from the Morning of the World, from Odeon A 204765);

1941 from Ubud ("Pemoengkah", Music for the Gods, track 5);

1969 from Teges ("Pemungkah", Music for the Balinese Shadow Play, side 1,

track 1);

1983 in Sukawati style ("Pemungkah", Music of the Wayang Kulit [II], track 2);

1990 in Sukawati style ("Pengmukah", Gender Wayang of Sukawati Village,

track 5).

Both Loceng and Sudarna judged the 1969 performance from Teges to be poor. All the

other performances were of the highest standard. Most of the discussion concentrated

on differences in the dominant styles of Kayu Mas and Sukawati. The former involves

slower playing and less elaborate kotekan than the latter. Also, the style of Kayu Mas is

the more conservative. Whereas Sudarna regarded the old works as fixed (tetap (I)), so

that he would not dare to alter them, Loceng drew attention to innovations introduced to

works played in the Sukawati manner.

This contrast was evident even in discussions of the oldest recordings. Sudarna's father,

Bapak Konolan, had been taught by Bapak Wayan Lotring, who was identified by

Sudarna as one of the players on the tape made at Kuta in 1928. Sudarna was surprized

to notice a slight difference in part three of pemungkah between what was on the

recording and what he had been taught by his father. That is, he expected the 1928

version to be exactly the same as that played now in Kayu Mas (only a few kilometres

from Kuta) where his father lived. Meanwhile, Loceng detected the influence of

Sukawati style in the more complex kotekan of the 1941 Ubud recording. He surmised

that this derived from performances at Ubud Palace in the 1920s and 1930s given by

Pak Granyam and three other players from Sukawati.

Wider considerations

Tourist performances

In the interviews, the subject of tourist performances did not often arise, though Dewa

Brata thought that many changes (in dynamics, the interpolation of new material, and

faster tempos) were a result of trying to please tourists and Oka Dalem noted that the

format of the tourist concert was unsuited for legong. When the conversation was

steered to the topic, the comments were interesting.

Tembres insisted that, when he was its leader, the Pinda group played in hotels in a

positive and serious manner, just as they did in the temple. Their tourist performances

were orderly (tertib (I)), not casual. He also thought that it is good that skilled

orchestras should play for tourists, who might thereby learn about the musical culture of

Bali. On the negative side, he noted that tourist performances sometimes are given by

groups with not yet competent student musicians and that the hotels sometimes want

pieces to be cut too drastically. He commented that it is bad for Bali if the groups are

not skilled, because the tourists can tell adequate from poor performances, and serious

from casual playing.

Tembres' observations led me to recount a case described in Ornstein (1971:63), in

which the orchestra leader reversed his drum but played it as if it were in the orthodox

position, thereby making a nonsense of the music. Apparently this was done to express

his contempt for the tourist audience. The idea that a player might make a deliberate

error of this kind turned out to be difficult to convey. It was explained to me that a left-

handed drummer holds the drum in a position that mirrors that adopted by a right-

handed player, and also that Gedé Manik would lift the drum over his head and play it

behind his back (though this would not be acceptable nowadays). When, finally, I

succeeded in making my meaning clear, my assistant, Made Berata, was shocked. He

exclaimed spontaneously in English: "This is a very bad man!" He went on to describe

a group that did not take tourist performance seriously and very quickly got a bad name

as a result. Tembres added: This is not good for Bali generally. The reputation of Bali

as a whole is damaged.

To get an idea of the importance placed by the musicians on the adequacy of their

performances, not only in the temple but also in the tourist setting, it is important to

recall the religious and social implications of gamelan performance. The Balinese do

not compartmentalize their world, seeking to preserve their music by insulating the "real

stuff" from an inferior product offered to tourists. An animist religion is present

throughout Balinese life and there is no reason to think it stops short where tourism is

involved. Ornstein writes: 'Balinese music in its traditional setting is essentially

religious ... Every performance is an offering to the gods or an attempt to placate evil

spirits ... Music for entertainment is also religious. ... Although the visible audience is

composed of Balinese, its primary purpose is to entertain and propitiate an invisible

audience: the gods ... Music for entertainment includes ... gamelan gong kebyar. ...

However, the same music that is played for the entertainment of the gods is also used on

secular occasions when it is performed for tourists or official government

guests' (1971:8-11). Moreover, the structures of musical works, the relations between

the parts played by the various instruments, the iconography of the carvings on the

instruments, and the spatial disposition and orientation of the orchestra are all

metaphors for cosmic, divine, social, and personal structures which, in turn, are seen by

the Balinese as icons for the universe in both macrocosm and microcosm (McPhee

1979:43-44; Wayan Dibia 1989; DeVale and Wayan Dibia 1991; Harnish 1991).

Because the orchestra and its music are as intimately associated with the spiritual

universe as are the temples themselves, the Balinese cannot leave their religious feelings

and obligations behind them when they perform for tourists.

Money and the performance of music

Although the prevalence of tourist concerts was rarely identified as having a detrimental

effect on Balinese music, such performances were indirectly implicated in a common

complaint: that musicians now play for money rather than from love of the music they

perform. Both Tembres and Gandra of Petulu made the charge in discussing the

younger generation of musicians.

Taken literally, the claim is hard to believe. In August 1996, tourists in Ubud paid 7,000

Rupiah (about US$3) for a concert and as many as 200 regularly attended the weekly

performances of the more famous groups. Though some musicians are near

professionals and others teach at conservatories, the vast majority of Balinese musicians

do not earn their living solely from music. Most of the revenue earned in playing for

tourists is paid into the coffers of the gamelan club (sekaha (B)) and goes towards the

hire of the venue, electricity charges, the upkeep of the costumes and instruments, and

so on. Thanks to the co-operative system of village life and music-making, much of the

income from tourist performances continues to be used to vitalize gamelan music

(Ornstein 1971:15, 56; McKean 1978:96). Moreover, tourist dollars have also been

used to revive threatened forms of gamelan and to restore older instruments (Margaret

Eiseman, 1990:340).

In one leading ensemble, all participants (about 50 in number) received 2,000 Rp per

tourist performance in August 1996, regardless of rank or experience, though a bonus

was paid at galungan (the holiday that marks each Balinese year of 210 days). At that

time, one could buy about 20 Indonesian cigarettes or a cheap meal for 2,000 Rp. Many

of the group's members rehearse many hours per week. It is not the level of

remuneration, obviously, that accounts for their participation in the performance group.

Indeed, a number of its members are wealthy, even by Western standards.

So, what lies behind the complaint that musicians now play for money? I understand it

as revealing a general worry about threats posed by commercialization to the traditional

Balinese way of life, not a particular worry that can be laid solely at the door of paid

tourist performances. In the past, musicians played for love of the activity and of the

music, as well as to please the gods. Famous teachers received only food and

accommodation in return for their services. All this was made possible by a co-

operative social system that emphasized group goals and the pooling of common

resources. Many aspects of Balinese life were organized communally. Under this

system, money earned went toward the group, not into the pockets of individuals.

While this social system remains largely intact, everyone, musicians included, now

needs money. (As Gandra of Petulu emphasized, money is necessary not only for

themselves and their families but also for the temple.) All dimensions of life in Bali,

not solely those connected with musical performance, have become more materialistic

and individualistic than they were formerly. This may be an inevitable, if regrettable,

consequence of modern economic development, in which tourism is but one element. It

is a recognition of the dangers posed by this new regime to the traditional social fabric

and, more specifically, to the place of the arts within it, that lies behind the reproach that

musicians now are motivated to play for money. As Gandra of Petulu put it: "Before

the social system was stronger, but now everything is a little bit money."

The Role of Conservatories

More frequently mentioned than tourist concerts for its impact on Balinese music was

the role played by conservatories, such as STSI (and its predecessors, such as ASTI and

KOKAR) was more frequently mentioned by the interviewees than tourist concerts for

its impact on Balinese music. Most of the leading musicians of the current generation,

including Dewa Brata, Wayan Sanglah, and Made Berata, are products of such

institutions.

Gandra of Petulu (a former teacher at KOKAR and STSI) noted that, whereas the

traditional approach to the study of music was entirely oral, notations supplement the

teaching process in the conservatory. But the resulting performance standard is still the

same, he concluded. Tembres, on the other hand, thought that the playing taught at

STSI sometimes is of a lower or less even quality than was achieved previously by

traditional methods.

Both Dewa Brata and Sanglah, observed that the STSI kebyar style, along with its

versions of standard works, is becoming widespread as its graduates become teachers.

They regretted the way in which local styles and work-variants are disappearing as a

consequence. Both believed, however, that STSI is very important for the development

and continuity of Balinese music and dance. The students receive lessons in style,

feeling, and technique. Also, rarer types of gamelan ensemble, and the repertoires

associated with them, are taught.

The Younger Generation of Musicians

While the interviewees were not inclined to identify performances for tourists as a

source of concern, they were quick to locate a potential threat to Balinese musical

traditions in the attitude adopted by the generation of younger musicians. It was widely

maintained that, as regards executive competence, younger musicians were no less

technically skilled than their predecessors. What was in question, apparently, was their

interest in, and commitment to mastering the intricacies of, difficult "classic" works.

Tembres thought that the current generation of musicians is not serious and prefers easy

music. Gandra of Petulu held that young musicians do not enjoy legong. They look for

dynamic contrast and constant change in the music they play. They do not care if the

work is good, only if playing it makes them happy. But he detected a growing interest

in "old" music, such as legong and Kebyar Ding. He predicted that, in the next twenty

years or so, a respect for the musical precedents of the current style would be

reawakened.

It is so common in all cultures for the older generation of musicians to allege of younger

players that they lack interpretive depth, despite being technically skilled, that one is

likely to be wary of taking the above comments at face value. And it was obvious that

these generalizations did not apply to the younger musicians that I interviewed. But

they, too, expressed reservations about the attitude of their contemporaries. It was said

that younger players are not always prepared to practice difficult passages and that the

commitment to excellence now is not what it was thirty years ago.

The Attitude of the Balinese Audience

The attitudes of the younger musicians appear to reflect those of a wider Balinese

public, especially of the younger generation as a whole. Dewa Brata noted that

Balinese audiences now are beginning to complain that the temple performances are too

long and to say that they do not like or understand legong. They prefer STSI style and

new pieces, not the older works played in a traditional manner. What and how the

musicians play, even in the temple, is dictated by what the people enjoy. This situation

is very bad, he thought, and threatens the traditions of music and dance.

The dalang, Wayan Wija, expressed concern about the way in which wayang kulit is

changing in response to pressure from the Balinese public. Few Balinese are expected

to follow dialogue in the old Javanese language of Kawi, but, increasingly, audiences

can no longer understand the parts of the drama that are spoken in High Balinese. It is

the humorous interludes supplied by the clowns in Low Balinese or Bahasa Indonesia

that attract the audience's attention. As a result, performances are becoming briefer and

more diverting. The musical interludes and accompaniments also are being reduced

now -- repeats are cut, shortening pieces by a minute or more.

Overall Conclusions From The Interviews

Before drawing conclusions from the interviews, four caveats should be registered.

Things in Bali now may not be what they once were, but I know of no other society that

is so pervasively steeped in its indigenous cultural traditions. The music that I have

been discussing (with the exception of kecak, perhaps) percolates more deeply into the

fibre of the average Balinese than most Westerners can comprehend. For instance, it

remains true that everyone in Bali knows the music of Legong Lasem, though it might

no longer be to the taste of all, as it is not true that, in Germany, everyone is familiar

with Brahms's German Requiem. Secondly, I should reiterate that the issue concerns

the kind or quality of change over time, not change as such. Alteration is expected and

valued in most kinds of Balinese music. Thirdly, while the interviewees expressed

negative evaluations of some past and current performances and practices, these

depended on discriminations that were fine even by the standards of Balinese musical

experts. Fourthly, the interviewees often emphasized the personal aspect of the

judgments they were making and were aware that others might differ. While all agreed

that "classic" kebyar works should be subject to creative development, they did not

coincide, and neither did they expect to, on the extent of change that is appropriate.

And while there were concerns about the growing dominance of STSI style, at least

some of the interviewees found that style congenial.

So, what is the overall picture? On the positive side, many musicians retain a deep

devotion to the music of Bali and are equipped to communicate this on a practical level.

The negative picture is more complex. There were poor performances of kecak, gender

wayang, and gong kebyar in the past, as there are fine ones now. In the case of kecak

and gong kebyar, not every group that performed well in the past did so consistently.

The best current performances of gong kebyar and legong perhaps are not quite so good

as the best of those recorded thirty years ago. This last result may be a direct

consequence of the nature of tourist performances, particularly as these require that

works be shortened. And it might also be affected indirectly by the prevalence of tourist

performances to the extent that these create an environment in which musicians play

more for love of money than for love of music. It was the attitude of the Balinese to

their music, however, not the influence of tourism, that was more often identified as a

source of concern. Many of the current generation of musicians do not deeply feel

works and styles central to the traditional repertoire, though they are as technically

competent as was ever the case in rendering such music. And this coincides with a loss

of interest in and comprehension of such music by young people in general. The threat

to Balinese dance and music, if there is one, comes primarily from within. This is

apparent in pressure from the Balinese public for changes in wayang kulit and in

musical performances for the temple. Even in kecak, the current trend toward

innovation arises from the musicians, rather than from tourists.

The most significant influence on Balinese music, I have suggested, is the shifting

attitude of the Balinese to their own cultural heritage. This change in attitude is more

readily explained by alterations within the wider society than solely by the impact of

tourist concerts. It is important to recall that the last four decades have been ones of

extremely rapid technological and economic development -- Bali has gone from

kerosene lamps to electricity, from setrop to Coca-cola, from bicycles to four-wheel

drive Toyotas. To take just one of the more obvious cases, television is present in many

homes and eating-houses, and Balinese avidly watch U.S. and Japanese programs, as

well as those from Jakarta (which emphasize Muslim, rather than Hindu, culture). The

Balinese are inundated with information, products, and values that have foreign sources.

At the same time, the assumptions of entrepreneurial capitalism that underlie the

moneyed economy adopted in Indonesia (as elsewhere) are in tension with Bali's

traditional social systems organized along co-operative lines. To my mind, these factors

create much more powerful pressures for social change than does the immediate

presence of tourists as such.

As for Western commentators on Balinese music, I believe Tenzer comes nearer than

Brunet to identifying the factors that might threaten the traditions. While he mentions

tourism as both beneficial and dangerous, he places the emphasis on the wider social

context when he writes: 'The yearly Festival Gong and Bali Arts Festival, the constant

stream of musical performances emanating from the conservatories, and the ever-

increasing number of village sekaha with regular work performing for tourists, have

created a broader range of contexts for gamelan in secular life than has heretofore been

known in Bali. This has often had the effect of strengthening the sacred ties which are

the root of the tradition, simply because there are more sekaha available and eager to

play their part in rituals. ... At the same time, many young Balinese, bombarded by a

hail of outside influences resulting from Indonesia's increasing international presence,

and the influx of tourists, foreign goods and Western culture, are perhaps less aware

than ever of the history and diversity of their own music' (1991:110-11).

Stephen Davies,Department of Philosophy,University of Auckland,Private Bag 92019, Auckland,NEW ZEALAND.

NOTES