Amid lush and graceful tropical foliage, tinkling fountains and lots of bamboo, Gamelan Çudamani took the stage last Thursday for a wondrous evening of Balinese music and dance at UCSB’s Campbell Hall.

For those not familiar, a gamelan is an Indonesian orchestra made up of flutes, sometimes strings and a variety of percussion instruments. The central instrument is something like a low xylophone, played while seated on the ground. They were originally made of bamboo, but after bronze became available from Southeast Asia, it became common for gamelans and gongs to be made out of this more durable and resonant material.

Gamelan Çudamani hails from Bali, one of the islands of Indonesia, and was founded in 1997 as an alternative to the many musical groups there playing only for tourists. Çudamani, in addition to performing for audiences, is devoted to playing for temple ceremonies and other religious festivals, which bring little or no money in compensation.

The group instructs youth at no charge and is one of the only to teach girls to play gamelan music. They also are dedicated to bringing this type of music into the modern age with constant collaboration and creativity. The musicians play on a rare type of hybrid gamelan orchestra with seven tones instead of the traditional five, allowing them to play in modes not normally heard.

The first half of the show was performed mostly with bamboo instruments, which have a lighter, more percussive sound than the bronze. Bamboo is an integral part of daily life as well as ceremonies in Balinese culture. Bamboo percussion instruments are played in the fields to chase birds and mice away from the rice as it ripens, as well as to honor the Rice Goddess.

Embodying a longtime tradition, a dancer portraying Bhoma, King of the Forest, made an appearance covered in long brown fur and a brightly painted mask, and danced in an often humorous way. There were also dances highlighting the protective and vigilant nature of the men, who danced with segments of bamboo strapped to their forearms that they played with a stick in the other hand, and of the beauty and grace of the women.

In the second half, the musicians made use of bronze instruments, with their deep and resounding bell-like tones. Gamelan music is played in rhythms unfamiliar to most Western audiences, often seeming to contain many different percussive tempos at once. The dancers were able somehow to move clearly to these multiple rhythms, as if all had been integrated in their bodies throughout their years of training.

The women’s elaborate costumes, with headdresses, jewelry and other adornments, were reminiscent of those of other Southeast Asian cultures, but with their own unique style. The very precise and graceful body movements and gesticulations of the hands and fingers brought to mind elements of Indian dance, and indeed, Bali contains the majority of the Hindu population of Indonesia.

The closing segment of the show, titled “What Really Happens at Rehearsal,” was a joyful celebration of rhythm and song without instruments. Dressed in their street clothes, the performers, mostly young men, leaped about the stage with great abandon as they sang and beat out rhythms on their bodies, like a Balinese “Stomp.”

Though their pleasure in the music was apparent throughout the evening in their smiles, it was a special treat to see these performers released from the constraints of the orchestra and letting more of themselves out to play.

I thank Gamelan Çudamani for sharing their infectious jubilant spirit with the rest of us, and the prolonged standing ovation from the nearly full house testified to my not being alone in this sentiment.

— Justine Sutton of Santa Barbara is a freelance writer and frequent Noozhawk reviewer.