Grains of conflict - UCLA Department of World Arts and Cultures ...

LA TIMES ARTICLE ON THE ART OF RICE TRAVELING
THEATER, SEPT 22 CALENDAR SECTION, pg 44.
Grains of conflict
In an ambitious project, Rice becomes common ground for artists tracing its deep, shifting
influence across a broad swath of cultures.
By Robert Turnbull, Special to The Times
To Western eyes, the plays of Asian shadow puppeteers tend to resemble Punch and Judy shows,
but here in Bali, wayang dalang, as these puppeteers are known in Indonesian, have an almost
mythical status, with mystical powers to balance the essential forces of good and evil.
So when terrorists bombed two nightclubs in the Kuta beach district last October, killing more than
200 people, many Balinese turned to the renowned dalang I Made Sidia for guidance. He
responded with a 90-minute piece, performed just yards from the blast site, that touched such a
deep chord among those who saw it that it went on to play 40 more venues throughout the island.
In Sidia's vision, victims of the tragedy assembled on the beach to grieve under the gorgon-like
glare of Shiva, the mighty Hindu god of creation and destruction. Lurking menacingly nearby was
the barong, Bali's fanciful lion-like beast, whose shaggy hide, glaring eyes and snapping jaws
traditionally keep demons at bay.
The piece was partly intended to appease locals seeking retribution for the bombing, Sidia says.
"At first, there were many angry people, but we know revenge can't provide answers. Good and
evil coexist, and we must embrace them both if we are to move forward humanely. This is our yin
and yang."
Now, Sidia has embarked on a mission invested with a similar spirit of balance and reconciliation,
even if its subject - the culture of rice - doesn't immediately suggest a treatment involving leather
shadow puppets on wooden sticks.
Produced by UCLA's Center for Intercultural Performance, "The Art of Rice Traveling Theater"
brought 10 musicians, actors and dancers from rice-producing nations (China, the Dominican
Republic, India, Burma, Japan and the U.S.) to Bali this month to join Sidia in creating a
performance piece dramatizing the political, economic and spiritual impact of the world's most
widely consumed food.
From Indian Kathakali and Japanese taiko to Chinese opera, the array of theatrical skills and
cultural icons was something Peter Brook might envy. A similar range of exotic musical idioms
embraced Kenny Endo's Japanese flutes, Kyaw Kyaw Naing's Burmese circle drums and the
shimmering metallic gongs of I Dewa Puti Berata's gamelan.
Bali provided a peaceful, if poignant, backdrop. Rehearsals took place in a bale bengong, a
traditional "contemplation house" on the fringe of the rice-growing village of Pengosekan. It's a
stone's throw from Ubud, Bali's cultural capital of art galleries, stonemasons' workshops and terracotta-colored
temples.
From Pengosekan, the piece traveled to four venues in Hawaii. It will have its mainland American
premiere Saturday and Sunday at the Aratani Japan America Theatre in Little Tokyo.

Cultural values challenged
The force behind the project is Judy Mitoma, the Los Angeles-based impresario best known for her
stewardship of UCLA's Asia Pacific Performance Exchange. She was also the mastermind behind
L.A.'s two World Festivals of Sacred Music, in 1999 and 2002.
A passionate advocate of multiculturalism, Mitoma has long had a reverence for Bali's sumptuous
heritage and makes regular visits to the island. The mere fact of "international artists coming here
at a time when others are fleeing the place sounds an unequivocal response to the Kuta tragedy,"
she asserts.
The genesis of the "Art of Rice" project, however, emerged from a simple realization: Rice shapes
the social landscape of the overwhelming majority of the East's populations, but the Asian
communities organized around the cereal are rapidly being eroded by Western-driven development
and the demands of the tourist industry.
"The invasion of foreign capital is seriously undermining previously unshakable cultural values,"
Mitoma says. "And while communities are growing weaker, human resources and talent are coopted
to provide entertainment, not all of it inclusive." It's little known, she says, that the largest
nightclub targeted by the bombers last year had a policy of excluding Balinese nationals.
In mounting "The Art of Rice," Mitoma faced the challenge of transforming an arbitrary collection
of anthropological research and personal convictions into a convincing theatrical vision. At the
start of rehearsals, the goal was broad, she says - to create "a dramatic journey, reflecting lives,
memories and legends." Proceedings began tentatively, however. The artists demonstrated a
willingness to abandon traditionally defined disciplines but nevertheless trod carefully, unsure of
one another's limits. Under a veneer of politeness was a sense of unease.
"In Asia, the caste system, seniority, age and gender issues all make a difference," said the
Philadelphia-based contemporary dancer Roko Kawai. "When a person speaks out, it's not so much
the words as who's saying them that gets noticed." Americans, on the other hand, "are often
reluctant to speak out, in case others recede into the background."
Adding to the slow pace of the proceedings was Mitoma's personal style, an outgrowth of her
rejection of the traditional "hierarchical" role of director. Seated discreetly to one side, she
frequently smiled approvingly, encouraging others to make comments and suggestions. Only later,
once the piece was blocked, did she begin to edit, honing details and jettisoning what she deemed
unworkable.
Gradually, the interplay of dance, music and spoken dialogue took shape. Seemingly incompatible
dance styles attained an exotic synthesis against a background of digital photographic images and a
symphony of mysterious tremolo sonorities.
The performers began to relax. The Indian Kathakali dancer Ettumanoor Kannan, all bulging eyes
and grimaces, beamed broadly during a curious pas de deux with the gyrating supple body of
Taiwan-born contemporary dancer Cheng-Chieh Yu.
Serious political issues were touched on. A spokesman for Kmart Corp., in the guise of a
hyperactive shadow puppet, tried to persuade a Balinese to sell his ancestral land. When the farmer
refused, the American took umbrage. "But this is progress!" he screamed. "We need golf courses,
Internet cafes, Starbucks!"

Also on stage: a Midwestern farmer wearing a comic plastic nose. "Must be hard to live when
you're waiting for the next bomb to go off," he mused, throwing a sympathetic arm around the
Balinese. "You had your Sept. 11," the other man said, looking him straight in the eye. "We had
our Oct. 12."
With the entry of a Chinese farmer (Chinese opera singer Peng Jingquan), an argument ensued
over which country's rice yields are largest. Unimpressed by the American's statistics, the Chinese
launched into a revolutionary ballet circa 1966. "The East is rice, the West is song. China is Mao
Tse-tung," he trumpeted, pirouetting through the air.
Hope for traditional farming
As a collaborator, writer Dan Kwong, a curator of Highways Performance Space in Santa Monica,
sought to couch controversial issues in humor. Offstage, he was more serious discussing such
subjects as agribusiness and especially the so-called Green Revolution, which Indonesia adopted
during the '90s. "In Bali, the importation of new rice grains and forced mechanization has created
more problems than it solved," he said. "The community has been the casualty."
The hope among many here is that traditional farming methods will be saved by deference to the
local rice gods. In "The Art of Rice," consequently, the performers retell the popular story of the
goddess Dewi Sri's escape from the clutches of a pig-faced suitor. Unable to discover her hiding in
the rice fields, he destroys the entire crop to find her, but she turns herself into a golden
earthworm. Only after the farmers kill him is she free to reemerge above ground.
For another segment, director-dancer Josefina Baez of the Dominican Republic, currently a New
York City resident, chose the legend of a West African slave girl who came to America with
golden rice braided in her hair. Is it myth or real history Baez thinks the latter. "The white
supremacists never accepted how African expertise affected rice-growing in early American
communities."
At the end of the day, the question arises: Is "The Art of Rice" a precedent for future collaboration
or merely a series of variations on a fairly mundane theme For her part, Mitoma is convinced it
offers considerably more than the sum of its parts.
At the suggestion that multicultural workshops may be a bit passé, she sounds dispirited.
"It amazes me when people say this. It's as if artists somehow don't need to consult each other on
questions of style and aesthetics. Doctors and businessmen travel to conferences to share the fruits
of their global research, so why shouldn't we as artists"
Cross-cultural work is more relevant than ever, Mitoma insists. At the second World Festival of
Sacred Music, she notes, several groups had difficulty obtaining permission to come to L.A.
"At a time when the Defense Department is our country's primary response to resolving
international conflict, artists are falling foul of elaborate and unchallenged visa policies," Mitoma
says. "Only a combination of arts, education and cultural exchange can broaden our hearts and
minds and establish meaningful relationships on which to build the future."
*
`The Art of Rice Traveling Theater'
When: Saturday and Sunday

Where: Aratani Japan America Theatre
Price: $20-23; student rush, $10
Contact: (213) 680-3700