In the still gesture, the breath of the gods. The dance is about to begin.
Dance in Bali, A Sacred Offering to the Divine
In Bali, dance is not just an art for a few, but a collective cultural heritage, an integral part of daily and spiritual life from a very young age. It is not mere entertainment, but a bridge that connects the Balinese to the Divine, maintaining harmony between the visible and invisible worlds.
Children begin studying dance as early as seven years old, and sometimes even at four, in village dance schools called Sanggar, under the guidance of expert teachers. Boys, on the other hand, start learning the instruments of the Gamelan, the Balinese orchestra of percussion instruments.
Transmission happens mainly through imitation and presence, where one does not learn just a technique, but a way of understanding life and the sacred.
The expressive power of Balinese dance lies in the hand gestures, the mudra, the refined movements of the fingers, the sledet of the eyes, and the measured inclinations of the head, called kelok. Together, these elements tell stories of great depth.
With their intense gazes and the vibrant sound of the Gamelan, the dancers seem to tear through the veil of Māyā that separates them from their Divinities, an illusory veil hiding the spiritual reality behind the material world.
In Bali, there is a great richness of dance forms and styles, divided into three distinct categories based on function and context.
Wali dances, the sacred dances, are performed in temples during ceremonies, not for an audience, but for the gods. Like the sacred Sanghyang Dedari dance, which invokes benevolent hyang spirits, with dancers entering a trance state during the performance.
Semi-sacred dances, called Bebali, often accompany theater and rituals, sometimes using masks, offering homage to spirits and humans alike.
Finally, the more entertainment-oriented dances, called Balih-balihan, were born for the royal court and later also for tourism, but always remain connected to aesthetics and tradition, like the Legong dance.
In Bali, there are also other dance forms, accompanied by storytellers or performed in groups. These dances tell stories drawn from ancient texts, or about kings and warriors.
Children begin studying dance as early as seven years old, and sometimes even at four, in village dance schools called Sanggar, under the guidance of expert teachers. Boys, on the other hand, start learning the instruments of the Gamelan, the Balinese orchestra of percussion instruments.
Transmission happens mainly through imitation and presence, where one does not learn just a technique, but a way of understanding life and the sacred.
The expressive power of Balinese dance lies in the hand gestures, the mudra, the refined movements of the fingers, the sledet of the eyes, and the measured inclinations of the head, called kelok. Together, these elements tell stories of great depth.
With their intense gazes and the vibrant sound of the Gamelan, the dancers seem to tear through the veil of Māyā that separates them from their Divinities, an illusory veil hiding the spiritual reality behind the material world.
In Bali, there is a great richness of dance forms and styles, divided into three distinct categories based on function and context.
Wali dances, the sacred dances, are performed in temples during ceremonies, not for an audience, but for the gods. Like the sacred Sanghyang Dedari dance, which invokes benevolent hyang spirits, with dancers entering a trance state during the performance.
Semi-sacred dances, called Bebali, often accompany theater and rituals, sometimes using masks, offering homage to spirits and humans alike.
Finally, the more entertainment-oriented dances, called Balih-balihan, were born for the royal court and later also for tourism, but always remain connected to aesthetics and tradition, like the Legong dance.
In Bali, there are also other dance forms, accompanied by storytellers or performed in groups. These dances tell stories drawn from ancient texts, or about kings and warriors.
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Sanggar, the Workshops of the Sacred in Bali
In Bali, traditional dance schools are called sanggar (or sanggar seni), which literally means "art studio." They are community spaces where traditional arts, dance, gamelan music, shadow theater, and other Balinese art forms are practiced, passed down, and taught.
They are the guardians of Balinese cultural heritage, and each sanggar often has its own specialization, style, and artistic lineage, sometimes linked to artist families or temples.
They can be described as a kind of traditional art school, but often more informal, intergenerational, and closely connected to the spiritual and community life of the village.
In Bali, learning art is not just an aesthetic exercise: it is an act of devotion, a way to serve the community and the divine. Sanggar are, in essence, the "workshops" where living offerings are forged: the body, the sound, the sacred gesture.
The teachers of the sanggar, often called guru or dalang (in the case of theater), are much more than simple technical instructors. They are bearers of deep cultural and spiritual knowledge, which they dedicate themselves to passing on to their students, guiding them in artistic and personal growth. Often their relationship with students is intense and lasting, based on mutual respect and trust.
Sanggar are not just schools for performances, but vital centers for training in rituals and sacred ceremonies, essential to keeping alive the spiritual and social fabric of Balinese communities.
In many cases, teaching is a lifelong commitment, passed down from generation to generation, with a strong sense of responsibility toward preserving and renewing tradition.
Today, sanggar play a fundamental role in keeping this tradition alive, adapting to modern times without losing their essence. They are places of meeting, growth, and cultural resilience, where each generation reconnects with the sacred and with the community, maintaining the thread that links past and present, projecting toward a future of continuity and renewal.
They are the guardians of Balinese cultural heritage, and each sanggar often has its own specialization, style, and artistic lineage, sometimes linked to artist families or temples.
They can be described as a kind of traditional art school, but often more informal, intergenerational, and closely connected to the spiritual and community life of the village.
In Bali, learning art is not just an aesthetic exercise: it is an act of devotion, a way to serve the community and the divine. Sanggar are, in essence, the "workshops" where living offerings are forged: the body, the sound, the sacred gesture.
The teachers of the sanggar, often called guru or dalang (in the case of theater), are much more than simple technical instructors. They are bearers of deep cultural and spiritual knowledge, which they dedicate themselves to passing on to their students, guiding them in artistic and personal growth. Often their relationship with students is intense and lasting, based on mutual respect and trust.
Sanggar are not just schools for performances, but vital centers for training in rituals and sacred ceremonies, essential to keeping alive the spiritual and social fabric of Balinese communities.
In many cases, teaching is a lifelong commitment, passed down from generation to generation, with a strong sense of responsibility toward preserving and renewing tradition.
Today, sanggar play a fundamental role in keeping this tradition alive, adapting to modern times without losing their essence. They are places of meeting, growth, and cultural resilience, where each generation reconnects with the sacred and with the community, maintaining the thread that links past and present, projecting toward a future of continuity and renewal.
The following photographs are shown solely for documentary and illustrative purposes. They are not for sale, and the individuals portrayed have not signed a model release.
The following images were taken at Sanggar Tari Agung Semara Dwipa.
The teacher leading the instruction is A. A. Alit Winata, S.Sn (Sarjana Seni, Bachelor of Arts in Fine Arts).
The teacher leading the instruction is A. A. Alit Winata, S.Sn (Sarjana Seni, Bachelor of Arts in Fine Arts).
Tradition and dance
A teenage girl trains in Balinese dance at a neighborhood school.
Dance is part of a path that begins at a young age and accompanies growth, weaving together music, tradition, and Balinese religion.
Dance is part of a path that begins at a young age and accompanies growth, weaving together music, tradition, and Balinese religion.
Carving a gesture from memory Each hand movement is a fragment of a larger story. The dancer learns not just technique, but how to give life to memory and myth through her body.
Learning grace in silence In the quiet of the training hall, a young dancer focuses on the delicate balance of posture and breath. Discipline and beauty are learned in silence, step by step.
The sacred origins of Legong
Legong is one of the most refined forms of traditional Balinese dance, known for its extreme grace, precise movements, and deep symbolism. The word "Legong" comes from combining "leg" (dance) and "gong" (the main instrument of the gamelan, the Balinese orchestra), literally meaning "dance of the gamelan."
The term "legong" also evokes the idea of fluid and harmonious movement, similar to water lilies swaying in the wind or current.
The Legong repertoire draws from the Ramayana, one of the great epic poems of ancient India, which tells the story of Rama, a virtuous prince, and his struggle to rescue his wife Sita from the demon Ravana.
Today, Legong is primarily known as an entertainment dance, but its roots are much deeper and more spiritual than often realized. Originally, it was a wali dance, meaning a sacred ritual dance.
It is believed that Legong originated similarly to Sanghyang Dedari, where a benevolent deity possesses young dancers, putting them into trance.
This belief is supported by the existence of a Legong called Legong Topeng Sangyang, a wali dance performed by masked young girls. It is thought that these dancers embody celestial nymphs or water spirits, similar to the Cambodian Apsaras.
Over time, various versions of Legong have emerged, including Legong Keraton.
The term "legong" also evokes the idea of fluid and harmonious movement, similar to water lilies swaying in the wind or current.
The Legong repertoire draws from the Ramayana, one of the great epic poems of ancient India, which tells the story of Rama, a virtuous prince, and his struggle to rescue his wife Sita from the demon Ravana.
Today, Legong is primarily known as an entertainment dance, but its roots are much deeper and more spiritual than often realized. Originally, it was a wali dance, meaning a sacred ritual dance.
It is believed that Legong originated similarly to Sanghyang Dedari, where a benevolent deity possesses young dancers, putting them into trance.
This belief is supported by the existence of a Legong called Legong Topeng Sangyang, a wali dance performed by masked young girls. It is thought that these dancers embody celestial nymphs or water spirits, similar to the Cambodian Apsaras.
Over time, various versions of Legong have emerged, including Legong Keraton.
Legong Keraton – From Sacred Waters to the Palace
This dance is said to have originated from a mystical vision or dream inspired by the sound of the gamelan, like many other sacred Balinese dances. Initially performed in temples, it celebrated the connection between the human and divine worlds.
During the 19th century, with the rise of Balinese kingdoms and the increasing refinement of the courts, Legong was absorbed into aristocratic life, becoming Legong Keraton, or Palace Legong.
Although it lost some of its ritual function, it retained elegance and sacredness in its gestures, makeup, and costumes. Today it is considered a Balih-balihan, a dance for entertainment.
Legong Keraton tells a Balinese legend: the story of King Lasem, who kidnaps a princess, Rangkesari, and is later warned by a crow that he will die in battle.
The dance is performed to the accompaniment of the Semar Pegulingan gamelan, a gentle and fluid style of gamelan once used to accompany the dreams and rest of nobles.
Traditionally, Legong Keraton is performed by three young pre-adolescent dancers, each with a specific role: the main protagonist called Legong, and two assistants, Condong and Panasar.
Condong, which is a dance in itself, is performed before Legong as the opening dance and returns at the end to close the performance. Condong has its own ritual and narrative significance and often represents a spirit or servant.
Panasar accompanies and supports Legong with more graceful movements.
Each dancer wears costumes rich in vibrant colors and refined details; gold symbolizes sacredness and nobility, while green represents life and nature.
Every gesture and facial expression—especially of the fingers, eyes, eyebrows, and head tilt—has a precise meaning. The dance is so rigorous that girls must leave the role once they reach puberty.
Legong is often said to represent the pinnacle of Balinese beauty, discipline, and aesthetics.
Behind the perfection of gestures and strict discipline remains its origin: the memory of a sacred gesture imitating the grace of the divine.
Legong Keraton is not only an exquisite artistic performance but a ritual that unites aesthetics, spirituality, and tradition, keeping alive the connection to Bali’s Hindu roots.
During the 19th century, with the rise of Balinese kingdoms and the increasing refinement of the courts, Legong was absorbed into aristocratic life, becoming Legong Keraton, or Palace Legong.
Although it lost some of its ritual function, it retained elegance and sacredness in its gestures, makeup, and costumes. Today it is considered a Balih-balihan, a dance for entertainment.
Legong Keraton tells a Balinese legend: the story of King Lasem, who kidnaps a princess, Rangkesari, and is later warned by a crow that he will die in battle.
The dance is performed to the accompaniment of the Semar Pegulingan gamelan, a gentle and fluid style of gamelan once used to accompany the dreams and rest of nobles.
Traditionally, Legong Keraton is performed by three young pre-adolescent dancers, each with a specific role: the main protagonist called Legong, and two assistants, Condong and Panasar.
Condong, which is a dance in itself, is performed before Legong as the opening dance and returns at the end to close the performance. Condong has its own ritual and narrative significance and often represents a spirit or servant.
Panasar accompanies and supports Legong with more graceful movements.
Each dancer wears costumes rich in vibrant colors and refined details; gold symbolizes sacredness and nobility, while green represents life and nature.
Every gesture and facial expression—especially of the fingers, eyes, eyebrows, and head tilt—has a precise meaning. The dance is so rigorous that girls must leave the role once they reach puberty.
Legong is often said to represent the pinnacle of Balinese beauty, discipline, and aesthetics.
Behind the perfection of gestures and strict discipline remains its origin: the memory of a sacred gesture imitating the grace of the divine.
Legong Keraton is not only an exquisite artistic performance but a ritual that unites aesthetics, spirituality, and tradition, keeping alive the connection to Bali’s Hindu roots.
A movement from the Legong dance
Originally sacred, the Legong Keraton is defined by its intricate hand gestures, precise footwork, and expressive postures.Here, the dancer becomes a living thread in a tapestry of myth and devotion.
Originally sacred, the Legong Keraton is defined by its intricate hand gestures, precise footwork, and expressive postures.Here, the dancer becomes a living thread in a tapestry of myth and devotion.
The offering of the self
In every movement, the dancer gives more than form she offers presence, silence, and intention.
In every movement, the dancer gives more than form she offers presence, silence, and intention.
Dancer Sang Ayu Made Arimas Putri, 17 years old.
Photography with signed model release.
Photography with signed model release.
A moment of quiet grace as the dancer kneels
her body poised in reverence to the rich tradition of the Legong Keraton.In this humble posture, the past and present meet through movement and devotion.
her body poised in reverence to the rich tradition of the Legong Keraton.In this humble posture, the past and present meet through movement and devotion.
A close-up reveals the delicate unfolding of her hands
each finger telling stories of refined beauty and centuries-old ritual.These gestures carry the legacy of a dance that bridges history and artistry.
each finger telling stories of refined beauty and centuries-old ritual.These gestures carry the legacy of a dance that bridges history and artistry.
Dancer: Dewa Ayu Nyoman Oka Sulastri, 18 years old.
Photography with signed model release.
Photography with signed model release.
Oleg Tamullingan
The courting of dance
Oleg Tamulilingan is a traditional Balinese dance, classified as Balih-balihan, meaning a dance for entertainment.
It is a sensual dance, a kind of duet where the two dancers, with graceful and light movements, symbolize the flight of butterflies that approach, chase, and gently touch each other in a fluid and delicate ballet.
The male dancer, coquettish and persistent, chases the female from flower to flower. Although initially the female dancer does not accept the courtship, in the end she yields and begins to dance with him, thus representing the harmonious and delicate interaction between masculine and feminine.
The dance conveys the message that "both sexes naturally need each other."
The costumes are distinct: the female dancer wears prada, a traditional fabric covered with golden varnish, and a long scarf she uses as wings; on her head she wears a bouquet of flowers.
The male dancer wears a similar fabric, arranged differently, which folds elegantly behind him. On his head he wears an odè, the traditional Balinese hat, and holds a fan in his hand.
Sometimes the role of the male butterfly is also performed by a female dancer.
With arms wide open, the dancer reveals the butterfly wings of the Oleg costume
a symbol of transformation and grace in Balinese tradition.
A grounded step marks the rhythm of the dance, connecting earth and spirit in a harmonious flow.
In a poised squat, nearly kneeling,
the dancer’s hands articulate intricate stories delicate, precise, alive.
Dancer Sang Ayu Made Arimas Putri, 17 years old.
Photography with signed model release.
Photography with signed model release.
A female dancer embodies the masculine role,
her hands and fan weaving the elegance and strength of the male character in Oleg.
A duet of dancers moves in harmony, eyes locked in silent dialogue, expressing the balance of connection and individuality.
Dancers: Dewa Ayu Nyoman Oka Sulastri (18 years old) and
Dancers: Sang Ayu Made Arimas Putri (17 years old).
Photographs with signed model releases.
Dancers: Sang Ayu Made Arimas Putri (17 years old).
Photographs with signed model releases.
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