It's just gone 20:30 at the Sala Chalermkrung Theatre, and an odd-looking masked monkey - the likes of whom you'll never find in the nearest zoo - leaps across the stage before somersaulting in an outburst of sheer delight. The excitable ape has stumbled upon a forest full of fruit and, not one to dwell on the possible consequences of his actions, begins lunging wildly at the natural bounty dangling from above. Much face-filling and some body-scratching ensues before, at a loss, he begins to toss the surplus around recklessly, as if fruit is going out of fashion. And why not? After all this is, on the face of it at least, just your typical cheeky monkey: prone to fruit-flinging high jinks, a bout of tree-hopping no doubt and, who knows, perhaps even the odd game of chase your tale.
But look a little closer... our spirited protagonist clearly isn't your average, run-of-the-forest specimen. The facial expression for one is firmly fixed in a gnarled expression. His white body is a surreal blaze of diamond body hair and he has crystals for fangs. Legend has it, says the programme, that he can transform into a body with four faces and eight hands. As if that wasn't enough, he can also vanish at will, is a great warrior and fiercely loyal to boot. Oh, and he's immortal. The name of this striking simian, we are told, is Hanuman the Mighty.
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The stage setting is equally spectacular. Despite the forest, boisterous antics and musical accompaniment, a stage version of The Jungle Book this is not. Presented to the audience is a heady, evocative mix of refined dances and captivating gestures, ornate costumes, otherworldly sets, narration and wistful music: a classical form of Thai dance called 'Khon' and clearly a tour-de-force of Thai aestheticism. But is this merely a story about an ill-mannered monkey dressed up in pretty sets and sparkling outfits, or is there something more culturally significant at play here?
Not long after the fruit-eating episode, the answer becomes clear. This is Hanuman Chankamhaeng, a tale that's about as Thai as it gets. A mythical and essentially moral story lifted from the Ramakien, Thailand's revered version of the Indian epic Ramayana, it tells of Hanuman's conversion into a faithful servant and warrior to Prince Rama and his ensuing battle against forces of evil, led by the demon Tosakanth. While jam-packed with epic demons, flying monkeys and shape-shifting princesses, it is at heart a potent allegory that embodies the power and benevolence of the Thai monarchy as an institution.
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On top of this good overcomes evil story drenched in Thai mysticism, what you also get from this production is a dazzling blast of refined artistry. Khon, a classical performance art originally conceived as entertainment for royal ceremonies during the Ayutthaya period, slowly evolved into an art form popular with the masses, and a medium used exclusively to relay chapters from the Ramakien.
What hits you first about it is the dazzling costumes. All performers are clad in finely embroidered, traditional clothing, gilted crowns, headdresses and ornaments, lending the performance an almost sacred aura. Inspired by the royal attire of monarchs in the Ayutthaya period, the male costumes are strict replicas, called 'Yeun Kruang', whereas costumes for female characters, demons and monkeys are adapted from male outfits. The rich colours, finery and attention to detail of each is astounding; woven with metal thread and set with glistening beads. The vivid masks worn by each character are even more ornate and instrumental to proceedings, for it is through these more than any other device that the audience distinguishes the different roles. Each one suggests the power and social status of characters, and has a unique identity that reflects their individual traits.
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These are also the reason that narratives and vocalists appear at the side of the stage, for although it is only monkeys and demons who wear them here, in the past they were worn by all, preventing performers from speaking or singing. So while faces can here be seen for some characters, such as the Gods and women, narrative text and dialogue are still integral to story-telling in Khon. The fixed, passive expressions of the masks also force the audience to adapt how they perceive what's happening on stage. Khon, like all theatre, is grounded in illusion and the necessary suspension of disbelief. But, fittingly for a Buddhist country, Khon not only relies on appearances, but toys around with it by using gestures or 'posture language' to convey actions, emotions, status, even words. Without facial gestures or speech to rely on, the audience is forced to tackle a new language that is expressed entirely through the body, through a vocabulary of studied postures and refined poses. It's a truly enchanting dance language.
Rounding off the production's sublimely exotic aura, is the wonderful 'Na Phit' music; the tones intrinsically linked to the performers on stage. Rhythms, melodies and timing accompany gestures, emotions and changes of movements such as walking, flying, or for special effects like thunder and even earth roaring. In fact, there's music to accompany the full gamut of activities and emotions, including casting spells, expressing anger, troop marches, short trips, long trips, battles, sleeping, bathing, delight and sadness.
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What really overwhelms about Khon performance is that while the artifice may be archaic and the artistry austere, the language of postures is universally engaging. Witnessing Sita looking forlorn or Hanuman and the mermaid Supamatcha in a long flirtatious tussle will charm the most unwilling and cold-hearted of spectators. On top of that, at just over one hour in length it's a perfectly measured look into an ancient and exquisite art form. Its not overwrought, nor to heavy with happenings or characters. More importantly, especially if the kids are coming along, its not to long. In fact, this Khon production is short, sweet and, like its beguiling dances, perfectly formed. And if that doesn't appeal, well there's always the story about a cheeky, fruit-pinching monkey.
Where: Sala Chalermkrung Royal Theatre, Charoen Krung Road
When: Until December 30
Tickets: 1,000 or 1,200 baht
Contact: +66 (0)2 262 3456 |
