A HEADY JAUNT THROUGH THE VILLAGE

It was an odd combination of acts - an unnatural fusion of 8 acts heralding from the Pacific, South Asia, South Africa, Indochina, China, Southeast Asia - all unique enough to hold their own ground, and perhaps too disparate to be juxtaposed seamlessly in a one-night programme.

It is important to note that the Festival Village was an attempt to bring the performing arts traditions "back to their roots", to present them in as close a setting as the original performances would have been. However, the origins of these village performances date back to a time when a strong oral tradition was infused with important lessons on life, socialization and the preservation of the memories of heroic events through generations. This had broad-based appeal, which extended to the illiterate masses, but the participation and celebration of an individual with the group ensured the continuity of something elemental. Identity, perhaps. Without all of our modern day distractions and (imported) modes of entertainment, the pace and stress of life when village performances held true sway were markedly different. Important activities and life stages of members of the community were accorded special ceremonies and commemorative festivals were held to bring people together. Would it be so easy to recreate such a time and context?

The atmosphere at Fort Canning Park was pregnant with the expectations of an audience that had braved the downpour. The craft and food carts were, at best, a mild distraction from the waiting because they were scattered and unfocused. There were curry puffs, shawarma, nonya kueh and pop soda et al, for the hungry. Necklaces, mini-tapestries or Khmer silver ornaments, for those hungry to acquire. Even a face-painting or subscription to the Arts Magazine, should that be your fancy.

I was unable to catch the homegrown Siong Leng Musical Association's performance because of the rain. However, the other local troupe, the People's Association Malay Dance Group, put up a enjoyable show. The live band was effective and added pomp and presence to the lively dances. In true Singaporean style, it was a break away from the strictly traditional Malay dance form and used symbolism and props to portray the facets of life.

The Mountain Stage, behind the main building, was set in a dimly lit open area, with yellow fairy lights strung above a small stage. Dampness aside, it was a comfortable size with a good view from all around. The scene was set for Charkula Nritya Avam from India. From the moment the VIPs set the large charkula alight and the veiled dancers deftly balanced the huge 108 lamp structures on their heads, the singing began and the pace was electric. The legends were unraveled in song, of Lord Krishna and his favoured consort, Radha, and their travails. As if to elevate the story to the level of divine, the lead male dancer spun a flower-laden tray and showered petals and blossoms onto the audience, in continuous stream. The fire of the lamps, gold of the costumes and classical posturing of the dancers - Lord Krishna with flute in hand and interlocking feet with Radha his beloved - was a near magical experience. No doubt it was more so for a number of Indian grannies that I saw, excitedly explaining the plot to their wide-eyed grandchildren.

Performing at the same location was the Himalayan Feeling Band, which very romantically captured all the stoic splendor and notions that people associate with highland Nepal (outside of Kathmandu). The opening song was called "Sunset", and was truly evocative in making us believe so. This brand of peace music, as compared to the other performances in the line-up, was unique in mimicking Nature and its gentle tunes - from water bubbling, to birdsong and the ode to majestic mountains - rather than Man's more banal activities. Its inspiration and tunes, interestingly enough, are somewhat similar to the Andean music of South America (which also heralds from the highland regions), though the instruments used by the former are more percussion-based.

The Bamboo Bell dance, performed by the Yunnan Yu Xi Cultural Troupe from China, is distinctive to the Lili people (one of the 25 minority groups in Yunnan province), and has the ladies wearing loose bamboo strips that swing about their waists, creating a very pleasant, woody sound. The programme describes their motions as "heroic dance motions", but I found them more playful and teasing. Hips were swaying amidst giggles and smiles, and I could very well imagine this to be an extremely becoming courtship dance, showcasing the beauties in dance and song.

Unfortunately, the National Cheo Theatre from Vietnam was out of place. In the field of lively performing arts and dances, the storytelling through parody and pun could not transcend the language barrier and was beyond the attention span of the audience. As with wayang, a large part of the charm and contextual innuendoes are lost if the wordplay is not translated to a foreign audience.

The Sea Stage was an interesting set-up, though not thoroughly appropriate if the intention was to present the performances in a simpler, more rustic setting. No matter, the Kanak Dancers of Wetr from New Caledonia, with their earnest voices and graceful moves, still made their point. Hailing from a little island in the Pacific Ocean, I felt that I was watching something important, the heart of the tribe. The foot stamping, clapping and gesturing of the Mimic dances are part of a collective consciousness of who they are and what was important to them. Instruments were made of bamboo, bark and seeds, and the dancers were dressed in dried grass tunics.

The Vuka Uzibuse Zulu Dance and Drumming Troupe from South Africa chanted and drummed their ritual motions. The whistling and drumbeats were infectious and hot-blooded as the kicks and singing were, as powerful as any Zulu war cry might hope to be. Not having been exposed to many groups from the African continent in general, most of us in the audience were enraptured by the agility and fearsome mystique of the warrior dancers.

I left the Festival Village with mixed feelings. Had it not been for this smorgasbord of acts, I would not have been able to enjoy the diversity of spirits at Fort Canning that night and yet it all seemed to pass in a whirl. History, mythology, collective belief and pride were perhaps the threads that tied them all together. All this predates the current, flavourful era of cosmopolitanism and globalism, and certainly there is a case for the preservation of a purity of culture and ritual. From battle dances to peace music, parables for the Everyman to adventures of the Gods - how very different we all are, yet how uniquely special. There is something about the tribe that remains relevant, I suppose, even in an urban society like ours.

Alicia Ong has travelled extensively throughout Asia, including stints in Vietnam and Laos. She is currently working at the Singapore International Foundation.