Traditionally lakon nai was danced exclusively by women and the khon only by men. Such a division between the sexes is no longer strictly adhered to, but it does point to a more vital distinction between the two dramatic styles. While both forms rely on gesture and posture as modes of expressing emotion as well as action, there is a fundamental difference in emphasis.   Whereas the khon actor seeks virtuosity in strength and agility and muscular exertion, the lakon nai dancer is persuasive through grace and remarkably controlled movement. Each traces intricate patterns of motion, through hand, arm and the studied raising and lowering of the body, yet the male's movements are emphatic and staccato in execution while the female's are more fluid and subtly beguiling. Serving as a counterpoint to the control and restraint of the dance itself are the costumes which, even aside from the superb masks used in khon, are extremely rich and flamboyant. Made of intricately embroidered cloth, a leading male attire comprises a tight-fitting jacket, breeches and a loin cloth worn outside and held in place by a broad sash and a bejewelled belt. Ornaments such as bracelets, armlets and rings add further to a picture of sartorial splendour. For female players the typical dress is a long skirt and cape -- though such prosaic terms scarcely do justice to the gorgeous way in which the costumes are fashion -- pointed golden headdress and other jewellery that rivals if not surpasses the glory of the male. Dancers do not wear make up as in the Western theatrical tradition, where it is used to alter appearance to a greater or lesser extent. Instead, facial features are merely accentuated in the usual manner. The khon masks are similarly conventional in the way that they depend on colour symbolism and stylized design to depict the various characters, rather than make any attempt to portray the life-like. Each mask, however, is distinctive and all are splendid examples of traditional Thai decorative art. Music is integral to all forms of Thai dance drama and khon and lakon nai performances are accompanied by an orchestra comprising traditional instruments -- usually five percussion pieces and one woodwind. Small bell-like cymbals are used to set the pace while the music of the rest of the orchestra lends mood. Like most other aspects of classical Thai theatre, the orchestra is bound by convention. Essentially the tunes are indicative of specific actions and emotions, so there are 'walking tunes', 'marching tunes', 'laughing tunes', 'weeping tunes', 'anger tunes' and so on. Such musical passages are instantly recognizable by an audience accustomed to Thai musical notation and composition. Familiarity is, indeed, a key to appreciation not only of the music, but of the entire performance. Unlike Western drama, classical Thai dramatic art is static in content. Audiences never demanded fresh stories, delighting instead in the presentation of well-loved tales so familiar that favourite episodes could be enjoyed out of context from their larger narrative. Conservatism and stylization is quintessential; everything is precise and restrained according to custom. Nothing is spontaneous. Performances are mostly slow and formal, although a certain liveliness is found in set comic interludes and battle scenes. As a spectacle, the dance mesmerizes by its grace and dignity, and by a sense of the fabulous emphasized in the performers' masks and costumes. None of it comes easy, and years of training lie behind a dancer's performance. As with ballet lessons for Western children, classical Thai dance is taught to enthusiastic youngsters from a tender age, while formal training at the College of Dramatic Art in Bangkok involves a six-year high-school programme, after which the best students will go on to complete a four-year bachelor's degree course. Although study is tougher than at ordinary schools, involving physical as well as mental training, classical dance courses remain surprisingly popular, and currently there are some 8,000 students enrolled at the College of Dramatic Art and its 11 sister schools in the provinces. With limited openings for professional performers, however, most graduates will eventually find themselves in the classroom as teachers rather than on the stage. Pupils study both the usual academic subjects as well as dance, for which there are different training programmes depending on the style of dance and the students' own suitability. For the young khon dancer, for example, roles are divided into four categories -- male human, female human (usually played by male dancers), demonic and simian. Each has its own style of movement and before training begins students are selected according to which parts they are best suited. A short, stocky lad is perfect for a simian role, while a big fellow with long limbs is ideal to play an ogre. The budding lakon nai performer, on the other hand, must memorize the mae bot, the 'mother alphabet of dance' which contains 64 basic gestures and patterns or movement, before learning how to combine these in interpretive dancing that tells a story. After basic specialization, training for both khon and lakon nai players involves increasing sophistication and perfection, along with more complex theory and tuition in choreography and stage management. If khon and lakon nai can be compared as art to western ballet, likay is the equivalent of pantomime. King Rama VI, a monarch noted for his knowledge of the theatre, wrote it was "popular with a certain class of people who are not very discriminating in their taste." The saving grace of likay, however, is that it has no pretensions to being other than entertainment. In form, likay basically parodies lakon nai (though its origins also owe something to Chinese opera), and the dramatic content is standard, full of the tried and tested stuff of melodrama -- crossed lovers, maidens in distress, lost princes finally reunited with their patrimony, and so forth. Improvisation plays an important part, and one performance can differ markedly from another depending on the quickness of the actors' wit and the fertility of their sense of humour. Puns, verbal virtuosity and slap-stick humour are likay's stock-in-trade. Similar to the free-flow manner of dialogue and action, costumes are allowed to run riot and there is a tendency for gaudy jewellery, bright colours and generally raffish dress. All together, as one commentator has aptly remarked, it amounts to "imaginative bad taste". Make-up, too, is grossly accentuated with there being a liberal use of powder, rouge, lipstick and mascara. Popular in every sense, likay is a sort of theatre-by-the-people-for-the-people; unlike khon and lakon nai, it is not hidebound by convention and everyone is out for a good time. And therein lies its attraction: it has, at its best, panache, verve and drive, even a strong degree of earthiness. What it lacks in artistic control its makes up for in sheer exuberance and inventive energy. At one time no fair or country celebration was considered complete without a likay show, and if no longer as popular as it was, this form of theatre is essentially flexible and capable of adapting to changing tastes. Not so with khon and lakon nai, although with the continued enrollment of students at the 12 classical dance schools nationwide there is still at least a tenuous hold on tradition.

go to top

Classified  Ads