incursions and sustained malaysian bird music-dance traditions … · 2017-04-18 ·...

INCURSIONS AND SUSTAINED MALAYSIAN BIRD DANCE TRADITIONS by Maria Christine Muyco and Mohd Anis Nor

INTRODUCTION The influx of industrial companies, logging, and deforestation (Ramsay, 2016) are just some of the devastations that rip off the Malaysian natives (particularly the Dayaks) of their land and food crops in the upper river area down to the lowlands and the coasts. We locate this study of sustained bird music-‐dance traditions of Dayaks in a current condition where they face these constant forms of incursions. We look at local ideologies that propel communities to continue their traditional bird music-‐dance practices even if it means performing for tourists and compromising the context by which the practices are founded on. It is a constant challenge for indigenous communities to sustain their cultural expressions in the midst of land resource extractions and displacements. And along with extractions are the loss of habitats for animals such as birds, the source for the Dayak’s cultural expressions and spirituality. We start with the inquiry: What are birds for Malaysia? Given the landmarks, physical structures, events, and activities of people within and around city and rural spaces that feature them, we can imply that they are important spiritual and socio-‐geopolitical markers. They are visible: in paintings of birds that ornate roofs and facades of Chinese-‐Malay temples in Penang and Kuala Lumpur; in worship areas of Indian-‐Malay temples; even in religious relics and offering paraphernalia of festivities.1 Birds are perceived as sacred as they are part of the spirit world and are given a place among deities, or the so-‐called “higher forms of beings.” In some cases though, they are seen as prisoners of man’s folly, captured and caged outside Penang Chinese temples and sold to devotees who free them from their cages as an expression of setting nature free. On the other hand, the not so obvious bird image in temples is the dragon. Notice the common swirls of dragons’ heads or bodies, usually perched on rooftops or enveloping the stairways of Chinese temples. Called Long in Chinese folk literature, this mythical creature is partly bird, partly snake, and a combination of other animals (Beng Tsooi, 2017: 136-‐137).2 In Sarawak, birds are messengers of spirits, or entities of other worlds. They are sent to relay to human beings information of what is to come. Based on the message they bring, they can be harbringers of doom, forewarning people of a bad omen, or inversely, they bring good news of fortune or an outcome of a fruitful day (Nais, 2009). An example of a

1 Peacock feathers are in altar offerings for ancestors and spirits known to be “hungry” as witnessed during of the Hungry Ghost festival in Penang, Malaysia, August of 2016. 2 Horse is the dragon’s head, rabbit for its eyes, crocodile (mouth), snake (body), deer (horn), bird, or the eagle particularly (claw), the phoenix (tail), fish (scale), lizard (leg), and tiger for its palm.

The Japan Foundation Asia CenterAsia Fellowship Report Maria Christine Muyco

bird of omen is manuk ku’sa. This bird positions itself in the front of the house so when household members leave their place, they are immediately forewarned of misfortune as they step out of the door. On the other hand, they can also signal good fortune if they sound at the back of the house. Directions also matter. Ku’sa on the right side of the house is also a good message than the left part. Another bird called ki’ya gives you only the warning that something bad may happen, in whatever direction of the hearer. It never gives a good message. The bird of death is the anak ku’wa. There’s also the manuk tit that forewarns of bad omen. As geopolitical markers, birds identify places and the character of its land. This bird has been officially designated to represent Sarawak during the reign of the 1st and the 2nd chief minister (Tettoni and Ong, 1999). In Sarawak, statues and wall paintings about the hornbill indicate that you’re stepping in a state of verdant hills, rainforests, and protected areas of endangered species. It is an exception rather than a majority practice to hunt the hornbill. To the Sarawak ethnic groups, this bird is usually taken when it is dead inside a tree hole, or its dwelling place. They remove its feathers and use these for their bodily ornaments (e.g., head dress, accessories for dancing) and for ritual offerings. From West to East Malaysia, the portal of Kuching opens its roads to Sarawak. The hornbill, in particular, has a large monument from the airport out to the highway of Kuching city. Also, along the intersection of Kota Padawan 10 (about ten miles from the Bazaar of Kuching), a monument of two hornbills is seen marking the turns on the road.

Figure 2: Photo on left is the Hornbill monument along airport highway. On the right, the two-‐bird markers signal vehicles of intersections. Scientifically known as Buceros Rhinoceros, this revered bird is iconic of the Sarawak imaginary. In myths and legends, birds are demi-‐gods and sometimes as humans or avatars claiming its space in human land (Ribu, 1955). Through physical manifestation or through other states of consciousness (e.g., dreams), it makes itself known to bring mankind into a better understanding of his or her existence in the world. Its role is

!

deeply entrenched in people’s beliefs, affecting their daily activities including their decision-‐making. Among the Iban (the sea Dayaks of Sarawak), the hornbill is revered to as a manifestation of Singalang Burung, the god of war. As a rhinoceros bird, it is believed to have the duality of war and peace. A bead accessories-‐maker from Western Penan (name undisclosed) pointed out their belief of the bunga, which sees the binary aspects of war and peace in this bird. The Ibans, according to him, have historically engaged in tribal war and piracy; whereas they, the Penan, are renegades of peace. But they share something in common with the Penan of the Eastern Sarawak, and that is, their common problems of displacement. In this paper, cultures particularly in Sarawak where bird music-‐dance traditions still form part of the people’s deep spirituality and sense of place, become a focus. Contacts were made with various natives within longhouses and interior parts of the forest, as well as their integration with the economically sustaining Cultural Villages (such as the Sarawak Cultural Village) where income becomes relatively regular due to the influx of tourists all year round. As movers of festivals (e.g., Rainforest World Music Festival), they become sources for information in this research as they operate within their area of function. All these mixture of areas where the Dayak now circulate bring many perplexing but enlightening ideas about local ideologies found in bird music-‐dance tradition and its relation to place and motion. BACKGROUND of SARAWAK Facing the South China sea, Malaysia’s eastern part is its largest state, Sarawak. It sits on the southwestern ridges of Borneo where rainforests and marshlands are found, and where the mountain meets the sea blending fresh breeze from both ends.

Figure 1: Map of Sarawak and its surrounding regions

Topographically, Sarawak has wide humidity produced from rainforest clouds although it is comparably cooler than West Malaysia. In summer, the temperature can drop to a little degree lower due to cooler plains in verdant lush. However, given the continuous mass logging, mining, oiling, and installation of hydroelectric water dams, it has pockets of available natural resources that are currently available but are dwindling through the years. The State of Sarawak is proud to be recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. With the world’s largest cave chambers and sharp limestone protrudes, it has some population of Orang Otan and other primates that swing in-‐and-‐out of protected areas and natural parks. The Sarawak Cultural Village is home to the annual Rainforest World Music Festival. A lot of Sarawak ethnic groups are involved in this event: as performers, as workshop lecturers and demonstrators, and other functions for information dissemination. Not just the elders, their teen-‐age children share hands too in watching over craft displays and sales, become spokespersons of their traditions, and assistants of their parents in the effort of promoting their culture. Tourists are a mix of curious onlookers, leisure-‐seekers, travel bugs, cause-‐oriented rallyists, environmentalists, and adventurers. But majority of the attendees are very much involved in learning about Sarawak’s rich resources, immaterial or material, which the modern-‐day advertisers would tag as “organic,” to refer to something natural, or devoid of artificial processes. These resources are packaged in the experience of world music, a global phenomenon of popularized folklority. Performers are a concoction of traditional musicians and improvisers, willing to compromise the context of rituality (or in some cases, taboos) to please the paying audience who came from different parts of the world. Sarawak has diverse ethnic groups. This paper will particularly focus on land, sea, and upriver Dayaks whose deep connection to birds lent its culture with rich stories, songs, music instruments, and dances. THE EAGLE MUSIC-‐DANCE of the LAND DAYAK One of the fieldworks for this research was conducted in Kampung Annah Rais in Padawan. The eagle in the Bidayuh world is represented through a Rajah Beuh (eagle dance). This beuh is a local eagle bird, not the huge eagle associated with most western eagles. Mawai Anak Nadeng, an elder in one of the longhouses in this area remarked about the traditional way of dancing the Rajah Beuh. The mastery, she said, lies in one’s lightness of movements. Feet should step like a bird on a twig balanced by its wings rather than the weight of its body. Music and Dance scholar Anis Nor (personal conversation, August 26, 2016) calls this kind of movement as “airborne,” referring to

the fleeting, semi-‐grounded steps that are featherly light, as if softly moving with the wind. Evans (1990: 130) chronicles the presence of wood, bamboo, gourd, and gong instruments among the natives (whom he call Borneans). Aside from his mention of tawak-‐tawak (big hanging bossed gongs), chenang (shallow bossed gong) and its variety, the chenang kimanis, is considered well-‐prized (Evans did not explicate on why it has value). He differentiates between the agung (shallow with a big boss) and tenukol, or a flat gong (meaning no boss). As to bamboo instruments, Evans (ibid) explicates about a chordophone/idiophone played by women and it is fashioned from a bamboo tube connected by two ends of its enclosures. Its strings are formed from a thin, narrow, and longitudinal strips culled out from the bamboo skin. It is tuned by inserting little pieces of wood (which I will call as “peg” later in my discussion). Among the Bidayuh, it is called tuk’ng paratruokng. In Annah Rais, the paratuokng is one of the favored instruments of the Bidayuh and their community estimates this to be more than five thousand years old. Arthur Borman, one of the surviving players of this zither, relates that this instrument has been in existence among the Bidayuh even before their great grandparents’ lifetimes. This bamboo tube zither preceded the coming of gongs, which came later as acquired from trade.

Figure 3: Arthur Borman shows the bamboo strings with pegs. These are played using pa’ru, a stick padded beater. Wider string sounds an octave lower than the rest. The player stamps his/her palm on this (unlike other strings where a stick is used as beater).

Strings and tone assignments

Interestingly, the paratuokng has certain sets of tones with established “patterns” (repeated rhythms) and these patterns when played together form the music for certain bird dances. Tones are assigned to certain strings of the zither, the same tones are also played by particular gongs in an ensemble in lieu of the paratuokng. Arthur Borman imparts these instrumental divisions: 1. Strings tones associated with Canang (pronounced as chanang or chenang) gongs:

2. Strings tones associated with Satuh gongs:

3. Strings tones associated with the big Tawak-‐Tawak gongs and various patterns:

& œ œ œ œ œPentatonic scaleTuning of Paratuokng

& œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ2 3 (-) * 4 (-)* 4 (+)* 3 (+)* 5 6Bamboo string

no. 1

* (-) before the peg insert on string. (+) after the peg insert on string.

& .. ..œ œ œPlayed by Satuh gong

String no. 2, 5, 3(-) œ

Repeated Pattern followed by Satuh

.˙ œ .˙ œ

& .. ..œ œPlayed by Canang gongs

String 4(-) 4 (+) œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œRepeated pattern of Canang

? .. ..¿ ˙*(palm of hand is stamped on the body of instrument for the lowest note;pluck thumb for higher note)

String no. 6 œ œ ˙œ œ ˙Pattern 1 for Tawak gongs, see upstem notes; and its variation, down stem notes,Œ ‰ jœ ˙œ œ Œ ‰ Jœ

? .. ..œ œ Œ ‰ jœœ œ Œ ‰ JœPattern 2 for Tawak gongs, see upstem notes; and its variation, down stem notes,˙ ˙œ œ Œ .œ œ

? .. ..œ œ ˙Pattern 3 for Tawak gongs œ œ Œ ‰ Jœ

? .. ..œ œ ˙Pattern 1 for Tawak gongs, see upstem notes; and its variation, down stem notes,Œ ‰ Jœ œ .œ œ

Tuning and Parts of Tuk’ng Paratuokng Bidayuh Community as played by Arthur Bohman

Transcribed by Maria Christine Muyco

Score



no. 1



String no. 2, 5, 3(-) œ


.˙ œ .˙ œ










Score



no. 1



String no. 2, 5, 3(-) œ


.˙ œ .˙ œ










Score



no. 1



String no. 2, 5, 3(-) œ


.˙ œ .˙ œ

& œ œPlayed by Canang gongs

String 4(-) 4 (+) œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ?Repeated pattern of Canang








Score

Siti Anak Morong, the on-‐call dancer of Rajah Beuh in one of the kampong (longhouses) of Anna Rais, shares her multi-‐tasking life as resource persons for researchers, tourist guide, and farmer maintaining her coconut garden and rice crops in paddies. She was a Borneo Race 2nd place winner five years ago (despite being 5-‐month pregnant) outrunning others in reaching a highland around Sarawak. She explained that June is the time for the “Gaway” festival and it is important for the Bidayuh; in this month, people celebrate the harvest of rice and it is during this time that they dance their Rajah Beuh.

Figure 3: Siti Anak Morong in her dance clothing. She said they (Bidayuh) wear black when dancing. The cloth color comes from natural dye. Red is usually used as an applique to the black



no. 1



String no. 2, 5, 3(-) œ


.˙ œ .˙ œ



? .. ..˙ ˙(palm of hand is stamped on the body of instrument)

œ œ ˙œ œ ˙Pattern 1 for Tawak gongs, see upstem notes; and its variation, down stem notes,Œ ‰ jœ ˙œ œ Œ ‰ Jœ



? .. ..œ œ ˙Pattern 4 for Tawak gongs Œ ‰ Jœ œ .œ œ



Score

cloth and is also a separate material that they hold while dancing (although here, she wears it first from one shoulder down but later holds it from both ends). This strip of red cloth is an offering of themselves and their bravery. Arthur Borman said that with or without accompanying the Rajah Beuh, the music is called “Pengadap”. The dance displays the movement of the Beuh, or local eagle that “…simulates bird movements particularly their footwork where they move on a single branch sideways.” (personal conversation with Martina Benedict Paul, a Bidayuh).3 Part of the technique of mastering the lightness of body movements in this dance is by practicing on a log. Martina shares that they go up the log and move sideways while keeping their balance. If they made heavy steps, the log would roll down them down; lightness of steps just like the eagle on a branch of a tree, can make them thread through the log from one end to another. A transcription of the rajah beuh with the music is shown below. Usually it is hard to illustrate dance in two-‐dimensions (due to the limits of paper). But figures and words are given to complement the explanation.

As shown in the beginning of the music, the paratuokng starts with an introductory rhythmic pattern. This sets the rhythm for the dance. The dancer holds up the red cloth with both hands and heads to the direction of the musician. She bows in front of him and changes direction to go to the front and face the audience, then takes a bow (as shown in the next system).

3 Martina Benedict Paul is one of the instructors of Bidayuh dances in the Sarawak Cultural Village.

&&&&

The Be'uh mvts.

String 4 (-) and 4 (+)

String 5 and 3(-)

palm stamped on bamboo's body

!jœ ‰ Œ Œ Œ

!

L.V.

Moderato {q = c 108}

!Œ jœ ‰ Ó

j¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ¿ ‰L.V.

!Œ jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰

j¿ ‰ Œ j¿ ‰ Œ

!Œ jœ ‰ jœ ‰ Œ

j¿ ‰ Œ Œ j¿ ‰3 1/2

&&&&

..

..

..

........

..Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)

Stamp(player can vary

patterns)

5

5 Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰5 jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œ5 j¿ ‰ Œ Ó

L.V.

Positions herself holding a red strip of cloth

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

4X

With slightly bent knees, move both heels lightly together sideways to where musician is (like a bird movingon a branch sideways with wings spread).Arms move slightly up and down in time with steps.

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ j¿ ‰ Œ

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

L (Left) F (Front)

Pengadap for Rajah Be'uh(using the Pratuokng, bamboo zither-drum)

A Bida'yuh community musicTranscription on the playing of Arthur Bohman

Bedayuh Community of Anna Rais Longhouse

Score

-‐-‐-‐-‐-‐

-‐-‐-‐-‐-‐-‐

She uses a footwork described earlier as light (like a bird walking sideways on a log) with heels together shifting the weight of the body to left side or in the case of coming back to the center, to her right side. While she does this light footwork, her arms follow, buoyantly going up and down while holding the red cloth.

&&&&

Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

9

9 Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰9 jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œ9 j¿ ‰ Œ j¿ ‰ Œ

L F

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

L F

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œ

¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ Œ ‰ j¿

L F


bows to the musician---then moves to face front. While maintaining bent knee, execute the heel-step. Arms move slightly up and down in time with steps.Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰

jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ j¿ ‰ Œ

&&&&

Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

14

14 Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰14 jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œ14 j¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

With slightly bent knees, move both heels together sideways to where the audience is. Arms move slightlyup and down in time with steps.

R (Right) F (Front)


¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ Œ ‰ j¿

R F

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

R F


¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ Œ ‰ j¿

bows to the audience.R F

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

2 Pengadap for Rajah Be'uh

&&&&

..

..

..

..Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

19%


With slightly bent knees, move both heels lightly together sideways to where musician is (like a bird movingon a branch sideways with wings spread).Arms move slightly up and down in time with steps.

L (Left) F (Front) Upon repeat, move to the right this time, R-F

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

L F


FL

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

L F


L F

&&&&

..

..

..

..Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

24

24 Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰24 jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œ24 j¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

L F


L F

fi

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

L F


With slightly bent knees, move lightly feet forward,sliding right foot, bend and up.Like a bird lightly stepping whilewings are spread. Arms move slightlyup and down in time with steps.

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

S (Step) U (Up, both feet)

3Pengadap for Rajah Be'uh

Towards the end she faces the musician, then the audience again in a final bow, indicating the end of her dance.

The Rajah Beuh is also called the Welcome Dance when it is done during the gaway (harvest festivity). That is because tourists these days attend or witness this festival unlike before when it is just mostly community members who come. And so for the Bidayuh to interpret it for a wider audience, they don’t use its local name; rather they say it is a dance to welcome everyone, thus, it is a “Welcome Dance.” Another bird, the kang’kuk has inspired the creation of a traditional music and choreography of the Bidayuh. Its music has a rhythmic motif based on the sound produced by the bird itself: kang kang kang kuk. When we hear that bird sound, we know that fruit season is around. The readiness for picking, particularly the spiky fruit Durian, is signaled by the bird. There is also an association of a good harvest of fruits from the bird’s “kang kang kang kuk” sound. These days, in gaway, it is danced as Ra’me, or Joy Dance. THE UPRIVER DAYAK

&&&&

Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

29


S U

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿

With slightly bent knees, move lightly feet backward,sliding left foot back, bend and up.Like a bird lightly stepping whilewings are spread.

S U


¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ Œ ‰ j¿

S U

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿

S U


¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ j¿ ‰ Œ

S U

&&&&

Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

34

34 Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰34 jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œ34 j¿ ‰ Œ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿

S U


Upon repeat, move backwards this time. Arms move up and down in time with steps.

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

S U


S U

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿

S U

4 Pengadap for Rajah Be'uh

&&&&

..

..

..

..Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

39

39 Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰39 jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œ39

¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ Œ ‰ j¿

S U

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿

S U


S U

Go To Measure 19 %

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿

S U

&&&&

Be'uh

S 4 (-) 4 (+)

S 53(-)


patterns)

43fi


bows to the musician---then moves to face front. While maintaining bent knee, execute the heel-step. Arms move slightly up and down in time with steps.

Œ Jœ ‰ Œ Jœ ‰jœ ‰ Œ jœ ‰ Œj¿ ‰ Œ ¿ ‰ ‰ ¿


bows to the audience.

!jœ ‰ Œ Ój¿ ‰ Œ Ó

5Pengadap for Rajah Be'uh

The Orang Ulo, people of the upland/upper river area, are a people who have distinct visual orientations of their place, imprinting these orientations on their house posts, walls, music instruments, and weaves. They sing about their natural environment replete with animals and feathered friends (birds are considered spirit affiliates). Thus, bird dance is inseparable from songs, and songs are inseparable from the sape (a plucked lute identified with native swirling lines and figures that encapsulates their sense of “place”). When asked about playing a bird music connected to dance, Sape player Mathew Ngau (an Orang Ulo) did not play the music directly as requested. Instead, he played Lunde, an invitational music for people to gather in their community longhouse. This was instrumental music, having no vocal part. Reflecting on his move, the importance of “process” is important in introducing a piece of music or dance within an event. His introduction of a piece that gathers people the way they do it in their actual community, matters. Apparently, he did not want to separate a bird music repertoire from the process of getting the community to gather and make music along with dance. He said that his community is proud of being part of nature. After saying this, he played again, this time a song that tells about the sacred mountains surrounding their village. He said: “We have creatures in the rainforest; birds that fly so free in the sky, and our lives depend on the resources of nature. This aspect of music-‐making through sape exhibits a worldview of text or text-‐less expression about nature. As it is, instrumental music carries on the message of the player. The melody played in sape carries meaning understood by the player and according to him, he can explain it or leave it to others to understand it.

Figure 4: One of the authors Maria Christine Muyco stands at the back of Mathew Ngau. He volunteered to play sape after she echoed that she needed more information after attending the workshop at the

Rainforest Festival. There are many modern versions of Orang Ulo’s music nowadays and the sape has gained more popularity than ever. However, Matthew remains a traditionalist at heart. He shared that he still goes home to the upriver areas and retain camaraderie with the elders. He listens to their songs, their sape playing and sees all these as fresh and seemingly still new and exciting everytime. And so, he believes that his recordings of

songs should not be re-‐invented for the sake of personal fame. There has to be the elders’ “voices” reflected in each piece and the sape playing has to be true to how people in the Urang Ulo village really play it. Going back to the topic on bird music-‐dance, Matthew Ngau referred to a piece entitled Leto (Maiden Dance). He said that Orang Ulo women dance this with sape. Holding hornbill feathers in a native weave, an Urang Ulo woman dances with the soft, fly-‐like motions of a hornbill. According to Matthew, the music has many versions but every dancer has a favorite Leto. The sape player accompanying her, however, has to be well versed with its variations and versions to be able to adjust to her dance. IDEOLOGY of MOTION from PLACE Fieldwork about the Bidayuh has shed light on bejalai (going away), a word that is lived in a tradition of moving to a new place. This is also associated with the youth who are given the time to explore opportunities of growth outside of their community. This “moving out” and becoming an adult is a kind of rite: a rite of passage toward adulthood. On the other hand, Su’at “Wyner”, a Bidayuh, has a different interpretation of bejalai from the context of modern-‐day migration. He said it is about finding one’s self through the world of others. The bird in its flight to and fro a habitat brings in “food.” It is a resource, as commonly termed in the field of economics. Thus, Su’at constantly brings in livelihood prospects for his community in Padawan. Having the connection through the Sarawak Cultural Village, he is contacted to recommend resource persons among the natives; he provides these persons with compensation, which he said should be their form of salary, or as commonly called, their professional fees. Another example is Bulan, an Orang Ulo who has now a family in Kuching city. As she has gained a good life in the city, she has a longhouse reconstructed in the upriver area and she helps some families there continue their tradition; on her end, she is guesting in educational institutions in the city to inform students about their bird music-‐dances and traditional practices. The notion of “resource” may also be looked at in another perspective. The Dayaks are surrounded by all kinds of resource consumption including their very own natural surroundings, which are constantly logged, mined, and taken over by government investments. They themselves are subject to touristic consumption and they seek a recess from this; a lodging owner in Annah Rais shares her exhaustion when tourists come and see their long houses. She said she could not help being hospitable as it is their culture to face their guests with politeness. And yet, she feels weary of their continuous presence in their neighborhood. Even as they continue to keep their traditional “locus”, they are still part of the national agenda pushing for economic growth and tourism is a booming industry. This poses a question on the (re)creation of

practices that are geared towards outside (tourists/”performance” consumers) rather than inside (the indigenous community) where rites are linked to their lifecycle rather than economic cycle. Thus, it is interesting to see this transformation of what we perceived as “food,” or “resource” from one’s place. When departures happen in communities, the elders and young families (or couples with younger children) are left behind in the kampong (longhouse). Here, Long Dances are common as different families live one after another in that stretch of place and there are festivities where everyone is involved. Gongs such as the Tewa-‐tewa, chanang, and the keremong accompany this community dancing along with a drum. People have calls/vocables (e.g., Oh Ha!) that go with this dance and these are exclaimed after performers and community members sing a line or verse. Specific birds inspire the dance. Burongtibong comes from the word burong (bird) and tibong (the name of the bird as sounded by the bird itself). There’s also the Burongkinyalang or the bird that calls itself Kinyalang. Movements for these dances include line dancing in horizontal fashion where one foot criss-‐crosses another in order to move from one place to the next. Su’at (personal conversation, August 12, 2016) sees the ideology of be’iana, or one root, in the case of Long Dances. Since people inside the kampong are family and relatives, or in some cases extended kin that stay and has gained a kind of residency (or as they say, a sense of permanence), the connection with one another is established as a “root”. It is however considered as “rooting in,” in the case of new ones settling in. Conclusion The bird as a spirit is opening the portal to the community it is affiliated with, but it is also an omen bird alarming people from land loss and resource extractions. The loss of rites among people is also the loss of connections as “offering” is not done anymore except in June “Gaway” festival (where the spirit of communality is divided in attention to tourists and the community). Thus, the mode of intention behind music-‐making and dancing becomes presentational. In a sense, the word “community” is redefined as encompassing spectators or in some cases, tourists who seek participation with the locals. We see here the externality of performance superseding “internality,” or a deeper reflection of what the music/dance actions are for. It is also about thinking on how to make connections work with fellowmen, or in the case of healing, with ancestral or cosmic spirits. In conducting rites and bird music-‐making and dancing, this internality is a form of preparation and thought process. The changing traditions of Malaysian ethnic groups relating to bird music-‐dances are influenced by many factors including the loss of land and the entry of tourists to places including the Dayak kampong (longhouse). Thus, it is expected that traditional practices used for this community’s rites won’t be the same as in the past. Re-‐invented music repertoire and choreology are done to please the paying public. Consequently, the supply of such “native attractions” robs off the natives of their personal space in doing their rituals and communication with spirits. Much more with the continuous logging of

trees, installation of more hydroelectric dams, the people are losing their connection with their forest and waters. Whatever are documented and researched in this period of time may not be there anymore in the next five or more years not until the government realizes to give ethical space to their native people. Moreover, with the return and reclamation of ancestral land, they can be encouraged to settle back in their lands replete with natural resources. This is not to romanticize the idea of people being back to their natural sanctuary, or the ideal “paradise” as what we may perceive. But it is about equanimity for those lives who wish that their indigenous communities be given back their honored space, that they be given the rights and due respect (e.g., such as an informed consent of occupying land for mining and other resource extraction). Also, allowing the community to have a hand to regulate tourism and other forms of intrusion to a certain extent. Thus they are given a centripetal focus to possibly revive their rituals and ceremonies. As the land Dayaks say it in connection to their land and culture, they can work for the be’iana, or one root, an ideology of concentrating in to a single goal, coming in place again. In retrospect of watching the rajah beuh, dancers resonate this cyclic form when they bow at the beginning to their musician and audience, and end in the same way. BIBLIOGRAPHY Jähnichen, Gisa. “Sound Environmental Accounts About Land Dayaks and their echoes

in contemporary performing arts of the Bidayuh in Padawan,” in Sarawak Museum Journal, LXX No. 91 (New Series) December 2012, pp. 1-‐20.

Milner, Anthony. The Malays. Malaysia: A John Wiley and Sons, Ltd., 2012. Mohd Anis Md Nor. “Dances of Sabah and Sarawak,” in Ghulam-‐Sarwar Yousof (ed) The

Encylopedia of Malaysia Vol. 8 – Performing Arts. Singapore: Editions Didier Millet-‐Archipelago Press, 2004, pp. 44-‐45.

Mohd Anis Md Nor. “Malaysia,” in The Dances of ASEAN. Edited by Zainal Abiddin Tinggal. Brunei Darussalam: ASEAN Committee on Culture and Information, 1998, pp. 88-‐132.

Mohd Anis Md Nor. “Tribal Dances of East Malaysia : Cultural Identities.” International Dance Conference, 1997 : Hong Kong, pp. 178-‐185.

Mohd Anis Md Nor and Burridge, Stephanie (ed.) Sharing Identities: Celebrating Dance in Malaysia. New Delhi: Routledge, 2011.

Mohd Anis Md Nor. “Emulating the Surroundings: Indigenous Environs as the Source of Malay Dance,” in Taiwan Dance Research Journal 3 (2007), 27-‐42.

Nais, Temanggong Datuk WIlliam. The Study of Bidayuh Occult Arts of Divination. Malaysia: Sarawak Literary Society, 1992. Ramsay, Denna, “Delving into Drivers of Deforestation.” Forest News. http://cifor.org/43881/delving-‐into-‐drivers-‐of-‐deforestation?fnl=en. September 26, 2016. Ribu, Lu’un. A Kelabit-‐Murun Story: The Fire bird and the Vomitted Heart. Sarawak

Museum Journal, vol. 6, pp. 264-‐274. Kuching, Malaysia: Sarawak Government Printing Office, 1955.

Sandin, Benedict. Iban Adat and Augury. Penang: Penerbit Universiti Sains Malaysia for School of Comparative Social Sciences, 1980.

Sather, Clifford. Iban Agricultural Augury. Sarawak Museum Journal, vol XXXIV no 55, 1985.

Shelford, Robert W.C. A Naturalist in Borneo. Malaysia: Naturalist History Publications Sdn, Bhd, 1916. Tan, Sooi Beng. “The Chinese dragon leaps to the beat,” in Sounding the Body, Moving

the Music: Choreological Perspectives, pp. 133-‐157. Routledge Publications, 2017.

Tettoni, Luca and Edric Ong. Sarawak Style. Malaysia: Times Editions, 1996. RESEARCH PARTICIPANTS

1. Arthur Borman, a Bidayuh musician living in Annah Rais. 2. Siti Anak Morong, a Bidayuh dancer particularly of rajah beuh; also lives in Annah

Rais. 3. Mawai Anak Nadeng, a Bidayuh elder who has the knowledge about rajah beuh. 4. Bridget Bulan Taja, an Orang Ulo and dancer who lives in Kuching but maintains a

longhouse in the upriver area of Kalimantan where she revisits her culture. 5. Su’at “Wyner”, a Bidayuh serving as cultural liaison between the Sarawak

Cultural Village and longhouses in Annah Rais. 6. Boy Formalavia, Tourism and Information officer. He helped in providing

information and literature for this research and also introduced resources from around the village.

7. Martina Benedict Paul, a dance instructor and craftswoman. She led the workshops on Bidayuh and Iban dancing during the Rainforest Festival of 2016.

8. Matthew Ngau, an Orang Ulo sape player, instrument maker, and singer. Inspite of contemporary works made for Urang Ulo songs, he believes that the traditional songs in its form and substance should predominate.

ABOUT THE COLLABORATOR: Professor Mohd Anis Md Nor is musicologist and Managing Director of Nusantara Performing Arts Research Center (NusParc) in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. He is the Adjunct Professor of the Faculty of Music and Performing Arts in Sultan Idris Education University, Perak Darul Ridzuan in Malaysia. He is also the Chair of the Study Group on Performing Arts of Southeast Asia (ICTM-‐PASEA) of the International Council for Traditional Music, a Non-‐Governmental Organization in Formal Consultative Relations with UNESCO, Co-‐Chair, Program Committee of the 44th International Council for Traditional Music World Conference, which will be held in the Summer 2017 of the

University of Limerick, Ireland.

incursions and sustained malaysian bird music-dance traditions … · 2017-04-18 ·...

Documents