|
Information Center |
Art, Architecture, Music
Balinese Architecture:
A
Home for Body, Mind and Spirit
Traditionally, Balinese
architecture offered not just shelter from sun and storm but
provided a commentary on the order of the cosmos. Just as
Balinese ritual is directed toward rebalancing the opposing
poles of the world - good and evil, order and disorder,
right and wrong - so Balinese traditional architecture
attempts to balance the relationship between the human body,
the world in which it lives, and the unseen world of
mystical forces with which human beings are always in
constant relation. Traditional Balinese architecture
comprises an extremely detailed body of ancient knowledge,
called Asta Kosala Kosali, which is inscribed in palm leaf lontar
books written in the Old Javanese language of Kawi which few
Balinese today understand.
Filling a social function halfway
between a priest and an expert contractor, the undagi ensures that the house will be physically, socially and
spiritually appropriate for the people who are to inhabit
it. The traditional architect who has mastered this lore and
knows how to apply it to creating human habitation is called
an undagi. But while the theory and practice of
building in Bali might be quite complex in its entirety, its
basic principles are simple. Because the human body is a
microcosmos or a miniature copy of the world in which it
dwells, which in turn is a microcosmos of the divine order
of the universe, one’s house must be built in harmony with
one’s body. By applying principles of balance between
opposing forces, traditional Balinese architecture can
create a harmonious living space, bringing optimal health
and happiness to a house’s inhabitants.
The majority of homes in Bali
are constructed not as single family dwellings but as
compounds that can house an extended group of relatives,
comprising a series of separate pavilions surrounded by a
high wall. To build a new house, the undagi first
measures various parts of the body of the head of the
household, usually the senior male of the family. Using a
length of bamboo, he will note such bodily dimensions as the
distance between the tips of the middle fingers with arms
spread wide, the distance between the elbow and the tips of
the middle fingers, the width of the fist, the length of the
index finger, the space between the joints of the index
finger and the width of the little finger.
These
measurements will determine the size of the compound, the
dimensions of the individual pavilions and the spacing of
the supporting posts, and eve the width and length of the
beds. Other factors which the undagi uses to match to
house to its future inhabitants include the person’s
caste, for traditionally one’s place within the social
hierarchy determined the type of house one should build.
And, of course, with a variety of building materials and
levels of decorative complexity to choose from, one’s
budget will also play a deciding role.
The undagi works to
make sure that the layout of the compound is aligned not
only with the owner’s body but with the powerful forces at
work in the worlds of humans and the gods. In Bali, spatial
alignment is organized not according to the absolute
directions of north, south, east and west, but in reference
to kaja, the direction of the holy Mount Agung, which
rises up from the center of the island and is said to be the
home of the gods, and kelod, the direction of the
sea. Towards the mountain is the direction of purity and
sacredness, and toward the sea is the direction of impurity,
for the sea is where the ashes of one cremated will be
returned to the elements. Between the mountain and the sea,
sacred and profane, is where humans live out their everyday
lives, trying to balance good and evil in all they do.
Likewise, the human body is divided into pure, impure and
intermediate parts. The head is the most sacred part of the
body, the feet the most impure. Traditional architecture,
seeking to align the human body properly in space, specifies
the position of the various parts of the house in relation
to their relative purity and impurity. In the direction of
the mountain will be built the family temple. In the
direction of the sea, the bathroom, animal pens, and garbage
heap will be placed. In the middle of the compound will be
located a number of pavilions, called bale, which are
usually semi open structures where the family will sleep and
gather to talk and to work. Even the beds will be laid out
so that one’s head will face the mountain and one’s feet
will point towards the sea.
When the house is finished,
ceremonies will be held to bring the house to life and to
appease any negative forces that might be lingering around
the site. The building materials that have been taken from
the earth and “killed” to construct the house are now
reanimated by a priest through ritual. The house is now
alive, possessing feet, head and body, and it must be taken
care of like one would take care of any human being with
whom one has a close relationship. On important ritual
occasions, the pavilions and posts of the house will even be
“dressed” as human beings, wrapped in colorful cloth
skirts and sashes. And every day, the women of the house
will make small offerings of rice and flowers that she will
place in certain spots around the house and yard to ask for
the good will of the spirits of the unseen world who are
sharing the space with her and her family.
Traditionally, Balinese
houses were constructed of wood, preferably the iron hard
teak wood that resists high tropical humidity and hungry
termites. Roofs were made of thatch, woven tightly to
provide protection against the sun and the torrential rains
of the monsoon. The walls that surrounded traditional
compounds were made of sun baked mud bricks or even, in
South Bali, of chunks of coral from the reefs lining the
shore. In contemporary Bali, a wide and worldly variety of
materials are now used. Concrete and brick are cheap and
easy to work with, and ceramic tile has become a must for
anyone hoping to appear modern and prosperous.
Many
Balinese, in fact, now build homes far from their ancestral
compounds that serve as nuclear family dwellings, and the
traditional open platform style is fast being replaced by
the rumah kantor or “office house,” with
enclosing walls, windows and low roofs - a style which may
satisfy the new craving for a cosmopolitan modernity but
which makes little concession to Bali’s hot, humid
weather. In fact, in contemporary Bali it is often
ironically the tourist hotels or the grand homes of Bali’s
large expatriate community that display the greatest
obsession with creating authentic Bali Style. While it is,
of course, impossible for a hotel to follow all the tenets
of traditional Balinese architecture by matching rooms to
fit the bodies of an ever changing parade of guests, today’s
hotels try to incorporate elements of traditional
architecture in their design.
Lumbung barns used to
store the rice harvest provide inspiration for guest rooms.
Meeting rooms are done over in the manner of a Balinese wantilan,
or public assembly hall. The split gates that guide Balinese
into temples and family compounds frame lobbies decorated
with coconut wood pillars, carved stone sculptures and
paintings depicting colorful characters from local
mythology. Statues of gods and demons do double duty as
garden lamps, while the temple for the guardians of the land
serves as a command post for hotel security. Even if these
modern temples to tradition express a more secular
relationship with space than the old style Balinese house
compound, they nevertheless can still serve to initiate Bali’s
guests into some of the beauty and balance that characterize
Balinese architecture.
top
|
