Bracelets and Pig’s Heads: The Amazing Sompeh Kru Blessing

Yep, parked in front of the pig's head.

Today after rehearsal, we had a very special Buddhist blessing ceremony for the theatre called Sompeh Kru.  We all gathered on the stage of the Chenla where an altar was assembled bearing offerings of jasmine, fruits, flowers, incense and candles, food plates of chicken, fish, and most importantly a pig’s head.  I don’t know how this happened, but I managed to park myself right in front of it.  Most everyone wore white and there was chanting and our musicians playing.

Prayers were offered to the late masters of all the Cambodian artists, many of whom lost their teachers in the Khmer Rouge genocide barely 30 years ago as the KR targeted all the artists first.  I was particularly touched by the offering of the dancers, as I’ve gotten pretty close with several members of the Cambodian company.  It was really exciting to see them do their amazing work with the intent and focus they had.  It’s hard to imagine the stories my fellow castmembers have lived through, for it is the Cambodian way to be  quite stoic.

Offering of the dancers: Moly, Setya, Katya, and Phorsada.

In the several times when I’ve broken down in rehearsal, they’ve hugged me and patted my cheeks but encouraged me to be more forbearing.  I’ve had a hard time explaining to them that as a western actor, the very goal is to be able to unzip yourself and have free access to all those parts of yourself most laypeople try to put way… (Though still working on better access to that leverage switch- I think all the crying I’m doing here is aging me.)  But in this emotional offering to their late teachers, their energy and intent was palpable.

Tying of the bracelets.

At the end of the ceremony, white string braclets soaked in holy water were tied on to every participant of the ceremony.  We all came together and congratulated and hugged each other.  These bracelets are to be worn (in similar fashion of the red string bracelets giving by Buddhist monks at the Wats) until they fall off, or it is very unauspicious.  I hope mine stays on for a year, as they sometimes do!   To further punctuate the ceremony and bridge the many worlds present, our choreographer Sean Curran lead a western style prayer and said many words of inspiration as the entire group held hands.  I was sitting between our composer Him Sophy and Cambodia Living Arts founder Arn Chorn Pond.  I felt my own consciousness and energy raise from the tremendous life force of these two amazing people as well as from the group around me.   It was honestly an event I’ll cherish for my entire life.

Ethno-Music-Ology, Yeah!

An orchestra member plays his traditional Khmer instrument.

In our second week in Phnom Penh, I was in for a few treats. Our cast’s social calendar was filling up with invites to the Royal Ballet by the Princess of Cambodia, and a welcome soiree by the US Ambassador.  But what was most exciting to me about this particular week was the sitz probe (or orchestral run-through for you lay-folk).

Him Sophy’s score for Where Elephants Weeps is an amalgamation of traditional Cambodian music, which has a really earthy aboriginal feel, with western rock and hip hop.  So we essentially have two orchestras:  Our rock band, consisting of all these cutting edge and hip musicians- and our traditional band,  who are all the masters of their craft, descendants of great masters with double PhD’s teaching at the Royal Academy, AND equally hip because (this is going to really excite those of you who enjoy your ethnomusicology):  We have century-old traditional instruments that have not changed until they’ve recently been taken apart and rebuilt to accommodate Him Sophy’s innovative score.  Keo Sonankavei is one such musical master and genius who enhanced the newly and aptly named gong thom chromatique and roneat aik chromatique, as their previous scale configurations did not include half notes.  

Sovannahong: Very different than your western sense of "ballet".

Being a part of the first time these instruments are heard together in this fashion was completely thrilling for me, and I have to admit I still get giddy every time I get into a room with these guys.  I’m lacking in the words to describe the excitement felt by all of us who’ve come together from vastly different background to put forth this story in a way that’s never been told before.  I love creating new work.

The other treat that week was getting invited to a performance of Sovhannahong by the Princess of Cambodia.  Many of our Cambodian cast and staff are Royal ballet dancers, and non other than our very own ChanMoly was one of the stars that night.  The piece was a work originally choreographed by the King’s mother, who had been a dancer, but never finished it.  The project was re-commissioned by the Princess in honor of her father the King for his birthday.

 

Setya herself backstage with Where Elephants Weep

I first saw traditional Cambodian dance in a piece called Pamina Devi at the Joyce in New York City.  It was honestly like nothing I ever saw and I kept feeling like I wasn’t Getting something about it.  What I did get however, was an amazing impression of the lead dancer Setya, who’s precision and amazing expression spoke to me across boundaries.  Imagine my utter excitement when I learned I would get to work with her, a year and a half later!  The world is very small.  During rehearsals, I found out indeed I had missed something-  all the traditional movements are shorthand sign language, in a way. There is meaning to every languid flick of the wrist and tilt of the head, curl of the toe.  I began to be fascinated with this as we have incorporated many of the moves into the play within our play, and I attempt to bend my body onto these revered gestures.  My last bit of feedback was people were happy with me, though I suspect they are just being incredibly kind-  the dancers train from childhood to perfect these moves.  I’m so grateful I get to work under their guidance, though!

Company bows with the Princess.

Tale of Two Worlds from my ‘hood in Phnom Penh

On a walk through my new neighborhood in Phnom Penh, I got a taste of the spectrum of wealth and poverty that’s here in Cambodia.  Going by this crazy house with its 3 story doric columns, I marvel that I’ve never seen this decadence even in Connecticut.  It’s even more strident in my ‘hood here, for Just around the corner, the homeless vendors can be seen shutting down their makeshift shacks at night to tuckle up against the errant flash thunderstorms that hit during the rainy season.

 

This photo was taken right in front of the house with the 3 story high columns. The amazing juxtaposition is, this villager comes to Phnom Penh with only his cart full of coconuts. He doesn’t return home till he sells all of them, and will sleep in the streets until he does. I bought 2 for $3, rather than at some souped-up grocery. This meager money I spent goes a long way with him. I owe it to Lonely Planet for opening my eyes up to the idea of “responsible tourism”. His gratitude was a little heartbreaking for me, as was the rope around his shoulders to help pull his cart and his blackened hands from the cart handles.

For most of my time so far, I’ve been surprisingly stoic in the face of the poverty I’ve seen here. But something about the direct contact I had with this person jolted and haunted me a bit.  I’ve vowed to shop from more street vendors during my time here instead of at the conglomerate supermarkets.

I’m astounded how everyone has a story here… the Khmer Rouge brought about unthinkable conditions in Cambodia, and I’m just truly opening my eyes to the hardship that still exists here.  Funny how it’s been all around me, but I viewed it all from afar, like I was in a 3D movie.

In this third week, I’ve finally broken down a bit.  Rehearsals are particularly hard now as I’m rooting in this country more.  The scenes we play out in the show, I am harshly aware, is the story of the tuk-tuk driver down the street, the girl selling beer, even our fellow Cambodian cast members.  At the same time, I’m using myself in my work as I never have before.  I’m hoping to get more of a gage on my on/off switch to the susceptibility and vulnerability I’m experiencing.  I don’t want to cut myself off, but I can’t walk through my time here a gaping wound… A delicate balance as I straddle worlds.