There are some books that deserve re-reading two or even more times during the course of one’s life. Among the many volumes written about Bali, "A House in Bali" by Colin McPhee falls into this rare class, beloved by Baliophiles and scholars alike.
The first narrative of the island by a classically-trained musician, the book is referred to frequently in academic monographs, popular novels and in the modern press as a classic not only of literature but of musicology and ethnography as well.
After hearing a recording of Balinese gamelan in the late 1920’s, a Canadian-born composer living in New York dreamed of the day when he could visit the source. The young man first arrived in 1931, at a time when Bali was undergoing an extraordinary explosion of the arts. He lived on Bali for eight years until the very eve of World War II.
McPhee discovered an isle so idyllic that "downtown" Denpasar was "a rambling town of white government buildings, a dozen European houses, a street or so of shops, surrounded by an outer layer of huts..." and where "...a desultory game of football took place...so that when they ran and kicked you thought of motions performed under water." He sent his servant into town once a week to find out what day it was.
An astute observer of life in the tropics, the writer demonstrates a wonderfully fresh use of language - whether he is describing a furious rainstorm, a dance lesson or the audio and visual chaos of a market. The writer’s mesmerizing description of a Barong is as fine a portrait of this magic creature as is found in any book ever published about Bali.
McPhee was among the world’s first and foremost ethnomusicologists. His stories of local and regional gamelan orchestras as well as the ingenuity and passion of the musicians who played in them holds a high rank in the universe of ethnographic literature.
Everywhere the musician went he astounded his fellow musicians with his ability to read music and record melodies. In the front room of his house in Sayan in south central Bali, he delighted guests with the virtuosity with which he played his Steinway piano.The author’s dogged pursuit of arcane musical forms drove him to live in a sand-floor hut in Kuta for three months and, with a tent, air mattress, folding chair and table, dominoes and portable gramaphone, McPhee embarked on a mad angklung-hunting expedition through the wild mountain villages of east Bali.
Today Sayan is the location of such international star properties as The Four Seasons and the Amandari, but in the 1920’s it was an austere mountain hamlet in the middle of the wilderness. Just one generation before the whole Sayan ridge was covered in heavy jungle.
With war clouds looming, McPhee finally was forced to leave the island in 1938. Soon, all of Asia was to be engulfed in total war and Bali was to suffer through four terrible years of famine and deprivation, its age of innocence gone forever.
McPhee died in 1964, only weeks after completing "Music in Bali," still considered the most authoritative and exhaustive volume on the topic. It is a tragedy that he never saw the final proofs of his magnus opus on which he had toiled for over 30 years.
But in the minds of readers of this vivid and sweet masterpiece, McPhee will be forever searching for his bamboo orchestra, a scratchy version of Moon Indigo playing at his campsite under the stars of eastern Bali 75 years ago.
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