Dancing in the Killing Fields

Richard Watts talks to Fred Frumberg from Amrita Performing Arts about the struggle to resurrect an almost-lost Cambodian artform.

It is a backhanded compliment of the most terrible kind that dictators so greatly fear the ideas of artists and intellectuals that they murder us in our thousands whenever they come to power. Cambodia under Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge was no different to China during the Cultural Revolution in this regard, for in addition to the estimated 1.5 million (one in five) Cambodians who died of malnutrition during Pol Pot’s regime, at least 200,000 more were executed as enemies of the state: countless artists among them.

"Approximately 80 to 90% of all Cambodian artists died in some way or another during the Khmer Rouge," explains Fred Frumberg, a former UN Peace Corp member who originally intended to stay in Cambodia for a year and who is still there almost a decade later. "Basically I just fell in love with the place," he says, "and after almost 30 years of civil war, I realised that nothing can be done in one year so I decided to stay on. It’s been just over eight years now."

Frumberg is the founder, director and creative producer of Amrita Performing Arts, a non-government organisation that works to ensure the survival and preservation of Cambodia’s unique artistic culture. As part of this year’s Melbourne International Arts Festival, Amrita Performing Arts will be presenting the Australian premiere of a recently revived, all-male dance piece, Weyreap’s Battle, an episode from the mythological epic the Ramayana, or Reamker as it is known in Cambodia. The work is staged through a form of classical dance known as Lakhaon Kaol, which was originally feared lost following the many deaths in the killing fields.

"Lakhaon Kaol survived in the same way that most other forms of the performing arts survived in Cambodia, of which there are about 20 forms including dances, theatre and whatnot," Frumberg explains. "The few people who survived set out almost immediately afterwards to find out who was still alive. They put out radio messages and they actually managed to bring together other survivors and to put together some of the old forms, of which Lakhaon Kaol was one."

He has no doubt that Weyreap’s Battle will appeal to an Australian audience. "For those people who want to learn more about Cambodian classical music and dance we have the amazing pin piet music from a classical orchestra, we have the narration, which is sung, and we have the classical dance movements performed by very professional, masked dancers, but there’s also some very comic moments in it," Frumberg explains. "There’s an entire scene which takes place underwater with artists playing fish and seahorses; and from a technical standpoint the narration is simultaneously translated into English with surtitles, so from every point possible I think this is going to be quite accessible."

The American-born Frumberg’s greatest concern is that people will consider him to be directing the company’s re-discovery of Lakhaon Kaol rather than facilitating it.

"I’ve had a few interviews about this where I’ve had to correct people in their questioning about my approach to the company. This is absolutely Cambodian driven," he is at pains to explain.

"Always in the back of my mind is the sense that eventually, as much as I love Cambodia, eventually I have to leave. Before the war Cambodia had a thriving theatre community; the king himself was a film director. They know about stage management, they know how to pay people and make posters and sell tickets. Because of the civil war the emphasis has been on the revival process, and what I’ve been doing is facilitating the evolution of the production side of things so that we can start thinking about real sustainability: how to place this artform so that it comes back into the common language of Cambodia’s culture like it was before the war, at which point I’m absolutely not needed any more."

Weyreap’s Battle at the Melbourne International Arts Festival, 6-8 October. Bookings through www.melbournefestival.com.au or Ticketmaster.

This article originally appeared in MCV # 248, Friday 30th September.