WAR Group B Keywords

Our group discussed two theoretical words and two words representing distinct performance styles.



First, from Justin, translation.


I realize translation is not exactly an uncommon word, especially in this increasingly global community, but I decided to use it anyway, because, first of all, it does have substantial and special relevance to my background. In fact, I exist because of translation, and, for many years, I existed in a state of constant translation, geographic and linguistic. My parents were translators for thirty years in Senegal, so I grew up split between the United States and West Africa. (Also, although this tension didn’t register to my conscious or conscience until more recently, I was torn between belief in the authority of text and realization of the malleability of text, in form, function, matter, meaning, etc.)


I find it fascinating that the first definition the Shorter Oxford gives relates not to linguistic but to geographic displacement/re-placement: “Removal or conveyance from… one place, time, or condition to another; transfer, transferral”. We here have all been geographically translated, and given the growth of travel and communication potential, theatre is being geographically translated more and more often: companies and productions as well as styles and philosophies. One of the shows I’m looking forward to this fall is a geographic translation, from Amsterdam. (A six-hour compilation of Shakespeare’s Roman Tragedies, Coriolanus, Julius Caesar, and Antony and Cleopatra, performed in Dutch and using extensive video, it’s also a translation of language and form, but I’m getting ahead of myself.)


Moving down the definition. Of course, given the religious source of much of language, it should not shock that there are heavy ecclesiastical and spiritual associations, but I’d prefer not to comment on the translation of bishops from one see to another, or of Enoch from earth to heaven. The (antiquated) medical usage was mildly surprising, but given my complete lack of knowledge in this arena, I’m not going to risk saying anything about translated diseases. Ditto to the broader sciences; I just can’t contribute any understanding to: “The process by which genetic information represented by the sequence of nucleotides in messenger RNA gives rise to a definite sequence of amnio acids during the synthesis of a protein or polypeptide.”


However, here’s where the most recognized use of translation is entered. “The action or process of expressing the sense of a word, passage, etc. in a different language. Also the product of this; a version in a different language.” Straightforward, right? I think most of us have at least some experience with at least a second language, so we know that it’s hardly simple. In the definition above, the emphasis might need to be placed on the phrase “the sense of” and the word “version”. I agree with William Golding’s assertion, quoted at the conclusion of the Oxford’s entry: “Perfect translation from one language into another is impossible.” Something always gets lost.


I’m going to skip the legal associations as well as the very obsolete reference to telegraphy, and I’m going to flirt for a moment with semiotics (I hope not inappropriately) using this part of the definition: “The expression or rendering of something in another medium, form, or mode of expression. Also the result of this.” So, translation can be from word to word, or, from word to image or action. The change of a written word to a spoken word is translation. The change of a written word to a physical gesture is translation. The change of a script to a theatric production is translation. The change of a conversation to a dance concert is translation. Also, the change of a word to a painting, a sculpture, or a musical score is a translation. And vice-verse. Indeed, in artistic composition, everything is translation.

An example of translation in acvtion. Here is a written text.

Enter the Empress’ sons, with Lavinia, her hands cut off and her tongue cut out, and ravished.

Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
And might not gain so great a happiness
As half thy love. Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.

-William Shakespeare. Titus Andronicus. II.4.16-25. Norton.

Here is a translation of that text to an image. (Please note that the still photograph is itself a translation from a live production in which the Japanese text was a translation of the English text.)




Second, from Jasmine, khon:


Khon is defined by the Royal Institute of Thailand as "Masked dance-drama, traditionally performed by men. Normally the stories performed are taken from different episodes in the Ramakien (Thai version of the Indian epic Ramayana)."

However, it is not this simple. Thai theatre scholar Mattani Mojdara Rutnin gave a good description of the classical Thai art form in her book Dance, Drama and Theatre in Thailand which I have copied/summed up/altered (and also added) as follows.

Traditionally, khon, performances begin with a prelude of “Catching the Monkeys in the Early Evening” (“Chap Ling Hua Kham”), a short episodes about a hermit and his two monkey disciples—one white, one black, i. e. good and evil. After this the show starts with the story of evil caused by the demon king, Thosakan (Ravana), who is exterminated by Phra Ram (Rama) and his associates.

All through the play, there are constant comparisons between the two opposing rulers, their politics, social and domestic affairs, systems of government, characters and personalities, as well as their psychological complexities, all of which were originally intended to give political, social, moral and religious lessons to the audience. However, there are also many comic reliefs by the demon and monkey soldier-comedians, and court jesters who, being unmasked, exchange witty improvised dialogues.

Khon masks are worshipped by performers and artists as sacred objects possessing supernatural power, which could bring both fortune and misfortune to the owners or wearers. There is an annual religious Invocation and Initiation Ceremony for teachers, students and artists of khon.






Khon performers are trained from childhood and first divided by their teachers into four categories following the types of characters in the Ramakien. They are (1) refined male humans or devine beings (phra, e.g., Rama), (2) goddesses, princesses or refined females (nang), (3) robust or vigorous demons (yak, e.g., Thosakan), and (4) monkeys (ling, e.g., Hanuman).





Physical appearance and special talent suitable for each specific role are the major criteria in the choice of characters. Each dancer normally undergoes rigorous training for nine to ten years in the character and practice daily the “mother” patterns of dance for each type of character. They also learn acrobatic martial arts for fighting scenes.

Khon, up until the reign of King Rama VII, has always been under royal patronage. King Rama VI (reigning from1910-1925), especially, introduced modern politics into his royal khon productions and trained his courtiers and associates in the art as a tool to propagate his political policies in support of the absolute monarchy. It is noteworthy that the Thai kings of the Chakri dynasty (currently ruling) are all called “King Rama” in short, just like the hero Rama of Ramakien.






After the absolute monarchy was replaced by a constitutional monarchy in 1932, the Royal Khon Troupe was transferred to the Fine Arts Department under the administration of the Ministry of Education, and has become more educational than artistic or political. Also, females were permitted to play female roles from this year on.

During the premiership of Field Marshal Pibhunsongkram (1938-1944), khon or any other traditional performing arts were strongly discouraged. The Prime Minister wanted to Westernise Thailand and hence preferred Thais to do ballroom dancing.

Khon, although no longer a popular art form nowadays, is still regarded as very high and untouchable. Modern stage techniques have been used, but those who dare alter the story or movements are frowned upon. Pichet Klunchun, for example, collaborated with France’s leading performing artist Jerome Bel on a demonstrative modern dance-dialogue About Khon, trying to make the art form more relevant to contemporary society. The performance has gone on tour around the world, but was performed only once in Thailand. Ironically, however, khon performances for tourists in restaurants or beside hotel swimming pools are not at all uncommon.









Third, from Xiaolu, Bian Lian.














Bian Lian (变脸) or Change mask is defined as an ancient Chinese dramatic art and a unique performing technique of Sichuan Opera which is regarded as a national treasure. Also it is the name for such opera performance. Performers wave their arms and twist their heads, and their painted masks change again and again and again. Skilled performers could peel off one mask after another in less than a second. In order to express his extreme fear, anger and so on.


Fourth, from Nevena, marifetluk.

Marifetluk is of Turkish (marifetlik) and Arab (ma'rif) origin, but often used in Serbian language. As there is not direct translation (which was the point of this task, right?:), the definition explanations will be given as seen in the dictionary.

Meaning 1: managing in a new situation or trouble, cunningness, shrewness
Meaning 2: doing something to avoid obligations and responsibility, dodge, trick

Marifetluk is more often used in negative than in positive conotation, and often is used in politics to describe various manipulations and improvisations.
In the economical and social conditions in Serbia, marifetluk can be applied to many areas, as well as to theatre. As I come from theatre background, I am very familiar with all the marifetluks needed to make things work. The secondary meaning is even more interesting as it describes running away from responsibilites. There is another slang definition of marifetluk - doing useless things, wasting time on nothing. Most of theatre I see today is actually that.