Percussion and Painting

Zinnia in front of Gamelon Temple

Jacob playing the gamelan drums

Yesterday, after our silent sunrise walk along the rice paddies, and after breakfast at our bungalow balconey, we walked to our gamelan class. Gamelan is the traditional music of Bali, made with percussion instruments of various kinds, like ornate drums and elaborate metal xylophones struck with little hammers.  The gamelan instruction took place in a temple-like class room, full of statues of different spirits, infused with incense and the smell of spices. The instructors were dressed in their finest sarongs and headgear that looks like colorful headbands tied with giant fancy knots in the front. This particular way of dressing is reserved for special occasions and for the frequent ceremonies that are part of everyday life in Bali. In fact, we had been instructed to carry a sarong and sash with us at all times in case we came across a ceremony and wanted to participate.

Each of us was placed on a little wooden stool in front of an instrument and instructed in how to play a short piece which we played probably over one hundred times. At first it was cacophony as we struggled to remember the sequence. But after about 15 minutes, we had the little piece down and sounded like we were almost ready to go public with our music. What happened over the course of the next 90 minutes of pure repetition was unexpected. We all had a look of being in an altered state of consciousness, a state in which the mind is empty of all thought, a kind of bliss.  I’ve noticed in my travels that traditional cultures often use repetitive sounds and movements to rise beyond the physical plane, with all of its pain and worries, to achieve a state of emptiness, devoid of thought.

Picture of dancer at Gamelan Temple

The kids were all smiling as we left our musical sanctuary and re-entered into the chaos in the main street. On the way to eat lunch, we stopped at one of the many beautiful structures interspersed throughout the city. We went to a former high court, now made into a museum. The ceilings and walls were painted with religious deities and spirits and the rooms were full of guardian spirits to protect the place.  We also passed the personal temple of the royal family of Bali.                      

  Housing compound of our gamelan teacher

The afternoon was spent getting instruction in drawing and painting Balinese style. My painting juices have not flowed for about 40 years, so I was not too productive. In fact, the kind and gentle instructor took my canvas from me with a sweet smile on his beautiful face and simply created a drawing for me as I looked on in amazement and with appreciation for being rescued from painter’s block.

That evening, before going to bed, I went to the spot near the pool where we can receive spotty internet connection. I sat next to a woman who was here with her step daughter, a student at Santa Fe High School, who had been on the Bali trip last year and was determined to come back again on her own. She worked 3 jobs while completing her senior year to save up enough money to make the trip back to Bali possible. She timed the trip so it would be around the same time as our group was here. She asked her stepmother to go with her. The stepmother is a firefighter/EMT from Los Alamos. She told me all the details about the fires in the Pecos and in Jemez and also showed me a picture of what the skies looked like in Santa Fe yesterday. I’m terribly sorry to hear this news.  And I’m also thankful that I’m here where it rains very hard for about a half hour every day. I can only imagine what you all must be feeling with the heat, the drought, and the smoke.

Keeping out the evil spirits--maybe he'll keep away the drought

Today we went to a museum called Arma that was created by a local Balinese man who had lived in New York City in the past. He had a vision to make a beautiful place where Balinese culture could be exhibited and celebrated. He sold Balinese art in the States until he raised enough money to materialize his dream. In the peaceful and elegant sanctuary he created, we saw many amazing works of art. My favorite form of art was the traditional dance class for the young girls from around the age of three to about eight years old. It was so sweet to watch these tiny, young girls in their little sarongs and sashes learning the stylized movements with their hands and feet.

Guardian spirit of the home

I feel I’ve finally landed here in Bali in mind and body and am starting to feel more myself. For the first few days I was deeply tired—probably a combination of jet lag and recovery from a very long journey, sensitivity to the heat and humidity, and finally unwinding from working so intensely the weeks before departure.

Selamat Malam (good night)