I La Galigo - Robert Wilson

Watching an epic tale encompassing four generations of ancient Indonesian gods:  sound like a good way to spend a Sunday afternoon?  I La Galigo was a challenging three hours without interval, and though we were permitted to leave and return as often as we wished, for me there were moments when I found the hypnotic music and slow moving imagery a little too much.  I just hope I didn't snore. 

The first person on stage was a genuine Bissu priest, part of a shrinking holy order in the society from which the story of I La Galigo originates.  He remained in front of the stage for the entire piece, occasionally joining in with chanting over the action.  His presence functioned as a reminder the show was part of the storytelling tradition. 

There followed a sequence which turned out to be a good introduction to the style of I La Galigo: a group of villagers crossing the stage carrying objects, next to acrobatic performers which I think represented a river.    It was almost as though they were testing us.  How long could we stand seeing basically the same scene; people walking slowly across the stage? It seemed to go on forever, but I did find that by the end of it I had grown into the piece.  I was starting to get used to the pace and structure or I La Galigo.  After the show, a friend told me that once she had decided to think of it as a meditation in action, she was able to relax and enjoy the piece more.  I agree. 

The music too took a bit of getting used to.  To me the drumming was a highlight, and the rhythmn would build to a climax, becoming more complex and layered, which slowly raised the tension.  I was hanging on the edge of my seat during the opening sequence... when suddenly a bird (or more precisely, a dancer with a wooden mask and wings dressed as a bird) leapt across the stage.  "Good God!" I thought.  "Is this bird somehow central to the story?"  Later I realised that no, in fact the bird was just a bird, and that this performance used music in a totally different way from what I was used to. 

But after some time I found I came to really enjoy the music, as well as the presentational style of the piece.  There is something comforting in theatre that just shows you the story with striking clarity, and doesn't try to either elicit an emotion, or present "real life".  There was nothing remotely "real" about the way the characters moved around the stage.  Our hero strode the stage in bright yellow with his arms permanently lifted in the air in an, er, heroic gesture.  I think you get the idea.   

All the while we were presented a living, breathing canvass of primary colours - costumes in vibrant yellows, reds, and whites.  There was no set to speak of, just objects brought in by the performers.  The cyclorama was similarly lit and the whole effect was visually breathtaking. 

At one point, two lovers were described in the story as being destined for each other ... "like a pot with a perfectly fitting lid."  The line drew chuckles of recognition from the audience.  I guess we can all relate to this image of two people being destined for one another.  (I know I can; finding a pot with a perfectly fitting lid in my share-house is nothing short of a miracle.)  In that moment I sensed the audience might not love every moment of this piece, but there was a real sense of affection and goodwill towards the dancers and musicians on stage.  I felt that, like me, most of us were grateful to be included in this sacred piece of storytelling for an afternoon. 

Finally, I La Galigo made me think about how little Australia seems to value Indonesian culture.  It seems an obvious point, but just think how little we know about the traditional texts, dance, music and theatre of Indonesia, a very near neighbour of over100 million people, compared to, say, England, United States, France and even Brazil?  This to me is what cultural festivals like MIAF are all about - giving us a chance to taste new flavours.  And to go off even further on a tangent, isn't it possible that if everyone in Australia and Indonesia had a better appreciation of the cultural history of their counterparts across the water, that might be as good a defence against terrorism as, say, a few million fridge magnets? But now I'm just talking crazy talk, right?  Maybe I need to get some sleep. 

I La Galigo, directed by Robert Wilson, was presented from 19-23 October at the State Theatre in the Arts Centre, as part of the Melbourne International Arts Festival.

Review by Mark Tregonning