MASTERS OF PUPPETS
Australian photographer Constantine Korsovitis has documented the rich tradition of shadow theatre around the region
To the younger generation of Southeast Asia, shadow puppetr y may seem like a bygone form of entertainment. Held outdoors at night in temple compounds, rice fields or the royal court, the performance traditionally unfolds behind a stretch of white cloth illuminated by oil lamps. Puppet masters manipulate the intricate and painstakingly handcrafted puppets to local music, narrating and acting stories from the Ramayana or the Mahabharata epics peppered with improvisation in between. A shadow theatre performance, in some cases, can last up to seven hours long. The art form — considered to be one of the oldest traditions of storytelling in the world — has captivated audiences for centuries, and today still retains massive cultural and ritual significance in many local communities around the region. Sydney- based documentary photographer Constantine Korsovitis spent five years travelling around Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia and Cambodia to capture and interview puppet masters, musicians and craftsmen for his project. The result, “A Life Of Shadows”, is now being exhibited at the Ratchadamnoen Contemporary Art Centre until Sunday.
Scattered over the bare brick walls of the art centre are 30- something black- and- white and coloured photographs. There are black-andwhite film portraits of some of the most renowned puppet masters of each country — all male — as well as coloured photographs of female puppet masters. The exhibition also features a blackand- white collage of the skilled hands of each master; some coloured collages of the puppets and the handiwork of their production; and even a bright photo of what seems like a Darth Vader puppet. Some photos date back to 1999 when he first became interested in shadow theatre, while others are very recent.
“I kind of like to mix and match,” Korsovitis explains his curatorial decisions. “[I like] traditional, but I also like modern stuff. You don’t want to abandon the traditional way, which is a kind of theme behind the exhibition — reviving traditional arts and how irrelevant they are in today’s society.”
Though seemingly random, the varied selection of photographs and styles in a way mirror the state of our region. Despite the differences in each nation’s cultural, religious and linguistic characteristics, shadow theatre is a common thread they all share.
“I wanted to show how close we are,” he explained. “How common our cultures are even though we are different. It’s one of the basic foundations behind our common cultural heritage and how we can use that to become closer rather than have differences… Why fight when we can be one?”
Known in Thai as nang yai and nang talung, shadow theatre is regarded at once as a sophisticated performance associated with the court and a rural, earthly entertainment enjoyed by a whole village, especially in the south. The famed nang
yai at Wat Khanon in Ratchaburi, for instance, is hailed as a national treasure, while dusty nang
talung shows in the southern region are an attraction at temple fairs, where audiences can expect skilful improvisation and rowdy jokes.
People think shadow puppetry is easy. It’s not easy. It’s one of the most difficult things you’ll ever see in your life. I want people to understand that and give the performers respect
Korsvitis s’ first encounter with the art form was when he was eight years old. Many years later, in 1999, he eventually became fascinated by it after running into it numerous times. The atmosphere of the performance, to him, was electric, the energy coming from the screen seemed intensely beautiful — reminding him of early cinema.
“People think shadow puppetry is easy,” he said. “It’s not easy. It’s one of the most difficult things you’ll ever see in your life. I want people to understand that and give [ the performers] respect.”
Each puppet master must know how to do everything. From crafting a puppet, which takes up to three weeks; knowing by heart the Ramayana and Mahabharata epics; manipulating and voicing 200 or more characters; and singing and sitting in the same position for hours at a time, this form of mastery isn’t easily achieved.
“Khun Chinrawut, who passed away months ago, had 7,000 performances in his lifetime,” said Korsovitis. “That would be 20 years of non-stop performing every day.”
Some puppet masters are also holy men, as shadow theatre performances in the past were exclusively ritual activities that also provided entertainment. Because the stories are so closely linked to the Ramayana and Mahabharata epics, performances are said to summon helpful spirits or dispel harmful ones. They can supposedly purify individuals or communities, offer blessings or guarantee successful harvests.
“You don’t find them as much in Thailand these days,” said Korsovitis. “You find them more in Malaysia and Indonesia. One person I interviewed was [first president of Indonesia] Sukarno’s favourite puppet master. He used to do [spiritual performances] for Sukarno. It’s supposed to be that Sukarno got his mythical powers from him. In theory, he got his powers from puppet masters.”
Thailand has also used shadow theatre for political reasons — but in a different way.
“Ajarn Narong in the 70s got commissioned by the Thai government to do a puppet show about population growth,” said Korsovitis. “Thailand’s population was growing out of control, and it was about safe sex. He introduced that concept into his stories, and it was very successful. It was used for propaganda, it was used to spread a message. His campaign was so successful the government asked him to do it again, but this time it was about clean water and all the diseases mosquitoes carry.”
Upon talking to the masters, Korsovitis also had the chance to document different styles of puppets. He now has more than 10,000 images of complete sets of puppets from each style and from each country with some sets containing up to 200 items. “There will be a publication coming out at the end of the year and I’m also doing an archive,” he said. “I’ve got so many photos, interviews, videos, and what am I going to do with them? The idea is to put them in a digital archive so people who want to use them can. There will be more exhibitions in Java, Sydney, Singapore and the United States the year after. I want to give them recognition and I want to show the world how important they are. I want to tell their story with as much truthfulness, elegance and respect I can give them.”