Reflecting on the Khmer Rouge Genocide

Yesterday afternoon at Z Space, New Performance Traditions and the Paul Dresher Ensemble presented The Rebirth of Apsara, a three-act reflection on the Khmer Rouge Genocide created and choreography by Charya Burt with music composed by Chinary Ung. Both are Cambodian; and, while Ung began to develop his musical career in the United States in 1965, Burt was a survivor of the Genocide. Thus, the narrative of The Rebirth of Apsara is autobiographical in nature, reflecting a childhood with particular attention to Cambodian Classical Dance, the shattering of youth by the brutal practices of the Khmer Rouge, and the recovery of Cambodia through efforts to revive traditional cultural activities.

The program provided a dense episode-by-episode account of the overall narrative. This was not particularly easy to follow; but, in putting it aside, I had no trouble tracking the plot through the narration that accompanied the staging and choreography. For all of the intricacies of subtle details, the full impact of the narrative emerged through the overall flow.

That flow, in turn, was powerfully guided by the music. This was provided by a quartet that accounted for many of the instruments played at Dresher performances. Dresher himself divided his attention among his Hurdy Grande, an electric keyboard, and an electric guitar. His colleague Joel Davel took command of the impressively massive Marimba Lumina. Vanessa Vo (Vân Ánh Võ) provided vocals, as well as playing zither, monochord, and a bamboo xylophone. The remaining instrumentalist was the composer’s wife Susan playing viola. This turned out to be a family affair, since their daughter Kalean delivered the narration for the staging.

The overall result was a seamless flow of a relatively elaborate narrative that occupied about an hour and 40 minutes. Burt knew exactly how long each episode required to make its point and how each transition would advance the narrative. Ung’s score was supplemented by music of other Cambodian composers, Pinit Pech and Sokunthea Ros, as well as arrangements (and probably improvisations) by Dresher and Davel. Taken as a whole, the occasion was thoroughly compelling in its story, its visuals, and its music.

By way of a disclaimer, however, I feel a need to observe that my wife and I were no strangers to Cambodia. Back in my “technical” period, I was a researcher in the early days of multimedia technology research at the Institute of Systems Science, a research laboratory on the campus of the National University in Singapore. As might be guessed, Singapore provided an excellent base for touring other countries in Southeast Asia; and, through what may have been a coincidence, we learned of a travel company that was arranging visits to Cambodia.

Angkor Wat (photograph by Jakub Hałun, from Wikimedia Commons, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license)

This was a time when the country was just beginning to recover from the horrors of the Khmer Rouge, but we decided that this was an opportunity that could not be overlooked. The trip took us to the two airports in Cambodia, flying from Singapore to Phnom Penh and then on to Siem Reap. The latter was the city closest to Angkor Wat, the massive complex of Hindu-Buddhist temples for which Cambodia is probably best known. Because of those early stages of recovery, we had the luxury of visiting that impressive site without having to contend with a flood of tourists. Indeed, we had a driver and a guide; and the number of other people I encountered on the site could probably be counted on one hand.

Indeed, the only large numbers of people we encountered were soldiers for the United Nations that had been assigned to assist Cambodia in its recovery. Because that recovery was in its early stages, there were few options for eating places, most of which were basically communal. So we got to share large tables with the UN troops, often overhearing amusing exchanges between Americans and Russians. Things became a bit more “urban” after we flew back to spend a few days in Phnom Penh. I noticed that we were sharing our hotel with CNN, which had set up a satellite dish on the balcony outside their room.

As might be guessed, recovery was still too soon for any opportunities to experience performances of music and dance. Thus, in many ways, The Rebirth of Apsara filled one of the major gaps in our visit to Cambodia. At the same time, yesterday’s performance served as a memory of just how fortunate we had been to be in that country during its early period of recovery from the horrors of the Khmer Rouge.