Cambodian dancer Thavro Phim performs a classical monkey dance.
By Mike GordonAdvertiser Staff Writer
he temples of Angkor rise defiantly from Cambodia's dense forests, which have tried for centuries to cloak the sandstone structures in their lush, green folds.
With towers shaped like giant lotus buds and rooms covered with intricate stone reliefs, they have become monuments to an ancient culture.
For Michael Schuster, East-West Center Gallery curator, these monuments are a living symbol of resiliency, a tactile expression of an undaunted spirit thriving in a nation that survived genocide.
Cambodia is widely reported to be on an economic rebound, but Schuster — whose exhibit "Living Angkor" continues through Jan. 24 at the center — makes an impassioned case for the country's cultural revival. Schuster used extraordinary images from National Geographic photographer Paul Chesley as well as 13th- and 14th- century sculptures to share his vision of the temples in Angkor.
"We didn't want to do just an exhibit about the monuments," Schuster said. "We wanted to talk about them reconstituting an identity in Cambodia. I really wanted to give this idea of what's going on there — good things, bad things, difficult things, wonderful things — given the profound history of Cambodia."
This is a nation known for the late-1970s genocide of 2 million of its people — the aptly named era of the Killing Fields. It was equally infamous for a sea of land mines that maimed many others. Under brutal ruler Pol Pot, artists and intellectuals were either murdered or forced to work in agriculture.
And even though the regime fell in 1979, it was not until the past decade that Cambodia opened up to visitors, Schuster said. The Angkor region, with more than 1,000 temples or monuments, went from 100,000 visitors a year to 2 million, he said. Their desire to see the real Cambodia, and especially the Buddhist and Hindu temples built from the ninth to 15th centuries, inspired the Cambodian people.
"Now there is this great influx of interest, dynamism and growth," Schuster said. "There has been a great revival of the performing arts. There has been a great revival of the visual arts.
Sculpture traditions are being revived. We see all kinds of care from the international
community putting in funds for revitalization and care of the monuments."
The exhibit photographs were drawn from thousands of images that Chesley took in 1998 and 2007. The goal was to showcase the vitality of the region. There was a wealth of images, but Schuster said he reviewed so many, his eyes burned.
A child worshiping a towering statue of Shiva. A gardener on a smoke break. Three mine victims, all musicians, performing beside an artificial limb.
"They really do capture the living aspects," Schuster said. "It's not per se about the monuments, it's about the people in the monuments. The many people using the monuments, living there and coming there, and what that all means."
Chesley, who has shot for National Geographic for 25 years, had not been to the temples between his visits and said his 10 days there last July were a crowded, startling contrast to the serenity he found in 1998.
"In certain areas of the ruins, it is definitely shoulder-to-shoulder," he said.
Chesley noticed the change most at a temple called Ta Prohm. In 1998, Chesley photographed two monks amid the monstrous roots of a banyan tree growing out of the temple. They were the only people he encountered that morning.
"When I went this time, that particular area where the roots are was crowded," he said. "There were 25 people at 6 in the morning in that room where the roots are, and they were all taking pictures."
Quite poor, Cambodians have taken to tourism with a fever: Major markets between the temples sell souvenir T-shirts and paintings, children around their periphery hawk sodas, and cafes dot the landscape.
But Chesley said the people have not changed. "The people are the same — gentle," he said. "Cambodians are wonderful."
Because dance is sacred in Cambodia, and because many of the images on the temples are of dancers, "Living Angkor" will celebrate that reverence with a demonstration on Sunday by center alumnus and dancer Thavro Phim.
Phim, who now works with Southeast Asian immigrants in Philadelphia, was part of a 1996 workshop that helped revive the art, said William Feltz, the center's arts program coordinator.
Nine performers from the U.S. and Cambodia gathered at the center to share their knowledge, videotape dances and breathe life into an art left dying on the Killing Fields, he said.
"That East-West Center gathering helped serve as a catalyst for subsequent connections between the Cambodian-Americans and the Cambodian dancers, and now the tradition is flourishing and there are many tourist shows," Feltz said.
It is culture refusing to die, the present holding on to the past against tremendous odds.
"Tourism is clearly going to continue to be an important aspect of the Cambodian economy," said Feltz. "In the case of Cambodia, these great works of beauty represent the future."
