When a rules-breaking
performance artist (Jerome Bel) and a tradition-rooted Thai khon artist
(Pichet Klunchun) collide, an utterly fresh product is born: About
Khon. About Khon is about that dance form known as "khon"
- which to most audiences probably means little more than an obscure
historical tradition, seldom seen on stage except as part of canned
tourist shows. I must admit, that was my entry point to the performance.
I discovered, though, that Pichet Klunchun and Jerome Bel would probably
not mind if you stumble into About Khon without knowing anything
about the Thai tradition of khon dance, as I did. In fact, I daresay
you would be his ideal audience.
Part lecture and part dance, About Khon had the lofty aim
of bringing the classical back to modern society. Boy, did it hit the
mark. Subverting any expectation of the performance as aesthetic enjoyment,
About Khon began with a long "lecture" on what khon dance is
all about. During this time, the audience heard no music, saw limited
stage movement, and only observed a naturally unfolding discourse between
an ignorant but curious Westener (Bel) and Thai khon practitioner (Klunchun).
Bel's questions about khon - from "is there much violence" to "how do
characters die" - framed Klunchun's lecture, which was interspersed
with brief practical demonstrations.
This startlingly unassuming concept ran the risk of rapidly turning
dry, if not for the lively chemistry between the two artists, and their
quiet skill in engaging the audience. Bel had a canny ability to ask
questions a split section before they formed in your head, jogging the
lecture along at a steady pace. Bel even played to the gallery at times
in being deliberately, comically confounded by Klunchun. But one had
to remember that Bel was in effect playing a character, that of the
typical contemporary audience member. During this lengthy lecture phase,
Klunchun's demonstrations of typical khon dance steps ranged from the
mechanical to the intensely emotional. Klunchun's mastery of technique
was evident in his ability to evoke emotions as distinct as the indignant
pride of a warrior, to the stoic grief of a widowed aristocratic lady.
Klunchun very effectively chose to strip himself of heavy traditional
costume, so that his every physical movement was immediately visible.
After the teaching process, the music sounded and the bare stage was
suddenly filled with khon dancers in resplendent costume, in a magical
moment of praxis. The battling of ancient warriors from a prehistoric
era was brought to life, and was all the more impactful to our newly
informed eyes. Although there was no backdrop or live orchestra, it
felt like a treat to finally witness the dynamic interaction of the
dancers' movements. Even better, we were able to appreciate the
meaning behind each bending of the palms, each flick of the head, each
flourish of the arms.
Klunchun's quest to educate the world about the stylised, formal
khon tradition is a passionate one, and this shone through in the finished
performance. Ingeniously in tune with modern audiences, the Bel-Klunchun
dialogue was fresh, honest and funny. Perhaps it would have been more
exciting if there had been some questions posed and left unanswered,
leaving the audience to continue our own journey of discovery. Because
each question that Bel raised was so skilfully parried by Klunchun,
the performance felt too hermetically sealed at times.
To be honest, I'm not sure many theatre-goers would flock to a lecture-cum-traditional
dance performance on their nights off from the daily grind. But About
Khon is simply not about spectacle and glitz. It is that rare and
valuable combination of the utterly modern and the unstintingly traditional.
It raises pertinent questions about the role of the traditional and
the modern, and makes the unique effort to go beyond fluffy philosophising
to put its dance where its words are. It also makes me want to learn
more about khon, which is more than any actual khon performance has
ever done for me. |
"Klunchun's quest to educate the world about the stylised, formal
khon tradition is a passionate one, and this shone through in the finished
performance"
Credits
Choreographers: Pichet Klunchun and Jerome Bel
Performers: Sunon Wachirawarakarn, Sanchai Uae-Sin,
Sasivilai Jarupran, Julaluck Eakwattanapun, Watcharawan Tanaphat, Wongkot
Wutthidej, Noppon Jamreantong, Manit Thcpattima Porn and Jirach Eaimsa-Ard
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