នារីរបាំឋានសួគ៌
Le ninfe danzanti
天女たちの舞
The Dancing Nymphs
In the Indian myth of Samudra Manthan, the legend of the Apsaras was born: during the cosmic churning of the Ocean of Milk performed by the gods, sixty million Celestial Nymphs emerged from the foam, bringing grace and beauty. Their name, from Sanskrit, means she who moves through the waters. These dancers have always been linked to water and to the fertility of the land.
A famous bas-relief at Angkor Wat recounts their myth. On the stones of the Khmer temples, two spiritual eras converge: Hinduism, where Apsaras are celestial nymphs, and Buddhism, in which they become Devata. In India, temple dancers were known as Deva-Dasi or Yogini.
These figures appear across Asia under different names. In Cambodia, they are called Tep Apsar; in East Asia and Indochina, they were absorbed into Buddhist iconography through cultural syncretism, recognized as Devata or Tennin in Japanese Buddhism. In Java, similar figures can be seen in the temples of Borobudur, Mendut, Prambanan, and Penataran, known as Bidadari, Hapsari, or Widodari.
Around 1600, the dancers entered royal court traditions, carrying their sacred origin as nymphs from Indra’s heavenly realm. Dance, conceived as a ritual practice, became essential in regal ceremonies, intended to secure prosperity and harmony. The sacred repertoire draws from the Reamker, the Khmer version of the Ramayana, and blends with traditional theatre and music, performed with the Pin Peat orchestra.
The dance of the Apsaras, known in Khmer as Robam Apsara, is renowned for its grace, delicacy, and harmony. The hand movements, called Kbach Boran, form a codified gestural language that communicates emotion, narrates stories, and transmits devotion. It is a true grammar of the body, orally passed down through generations, comprised of over a thousand fundamental forms and thousands of variations, capable of creating ritual gestures and narrative sequences.
The Kbach are classified into families: Kbach chen, gestures of the fingers; Kbach kdam, gestures of the hands; Kbach chheu, gestures of the arms. Through their combinations, dancers construct a tale of elegance and silence — a non-verbal language flowing between earth and sky.
The dancers appear light and graceful, immersed in a sacred choreography inspired by divine protectors of the arts. Their faces remain still, so as not to distract from the perfection of the gesture. Unlike Balinese dance — more angular and vibrant — Khmer dance is distinguished by its fluidity, control, and introspection: a silent elegance that does not dazzle, but mesmerizes, as if each movement were the echo of a celestial offering.
During the Khmer Rouge regime, from 1975 to 1979, all artistic expression was forbidden. It is estimated that 90% of artists were executed. Only in recent decades has the dance been recovered, though the burden of cultural loss remains heavy.
Today, the Royal Ballet of Cambodia, which includes Robam Apsara, is recognized by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. Together with the temples of Angkor — symbols carved in stone — this living tradition continues to inspire and enchant the world: a bridge between past and present, gesture and memory, sacred and human.
Yet it is not only the Cambodian Robam Tep Apsara that tells their story. In Bali, Indonesia, the Sanghyang Dedari dance endures — where Dedari derives from Bidadari, a figure similar to the nymphs. It is a dance of perfect syncretism between Hinduism and the cult of the Deva. Young girls enter a trance state, welcoming protective spirits. It is a sacred, non-spectacular dance, intended to preserve balance between the human world and the invisible.
A famous bas-relief at Angkor Wat recounts their myth. On the stones of the Khmer temples, two spiritual eras converge: Hinduism, where Apsaras are celestial nymphs, and Buddhism, in which they become Devata. In India, temple dancers were known as Deva-Dasi or Yogini.
These figures appear across Asia under different names. In Cambodia, they are called Tep Apsar; in East Asia and Indochina, they were absorbed into Buddhist iconography through cultural syncretism, recognized as Devata or Tennin in Japanese Buddhism. In Java, similar figures can be seen in the temples of Borobudur, Mendut, Prambanan, and Penataran, known as Bidadari, Hapsari, or Widodari.
Around 1600, the dancers entered royal court traditions, carrying their sacred origin as nymphs from Indra’s heavenly realm. Dance, conceived as a ritual practice, became essential in regal ceremonies, intended to secure prosperity and harmony. The sacred repertoire draws from the Reamker, the Khmer version of the Ramayana, and blends with traditional theatre and music, performed with the Pin Peat orchestra.
The dance of the Apsaras, known in Khmer as Robam Apsara, is renowned for its grace, delicacy, and harmony. The hand movements, called Kbach Boran, form a codified gestural language that communicates emotion, narrates stories, and transmits devotion. It is a true grammar of the body, orally passed down through generations, comprised of over a thousand fundamental forms and thousands of variations, capable of creating ritual gestures and narrative sequences.
The Kbach are classified into families: Kbach chen, gestures of the fingers; Kbach kdam, gestures of the hands; Kbach chheu, gestures of the arms. Through their combinations, dancers construct a tale of elegance and silence — a non-verbal language flowing between earth and sky.
The dancers appear light and graceful, immersed in a sacred choreography inspired by divine protectors of the arts. Their faces remain still, so as not to distract from the perfection of the gesture. Unlike Balinese dance — more angular and vibrant — Khmer dance is distinguished by its fluidity, control, and introspection: a silent elegance that does not dazzle, but mesmerizes, as if each movement were the echo of a celestial offering.
During the Khmer Rouge regime, from 1975 to 1979, all artistic expression was forbidden. It is estimated that 90% of artists were executed. Only in recent decades has the dance been recovered, though the burden of cultural loss remains heavy.
Today, the Royal Ballet of Cambodia, which includes Robam Apsara, is recognized by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. Together with the temples of Angkor — symbols carved in stone — this living tradition continues to inspire and enchant the world: a bridge between past and present, gesture and memory, sacred and human.
Yet it is not only the Cambodian Robam Tep Apsara that tells their story. In Bali, Indonesia, the Sanghyang Dedari dance endures — where Dedari derives from Bidadari, a figure similar to the nymphs. It is a dance of perfect syncretism between Hinduism and the cult of the Deva. Young girls enter a trance state, welcoming protective spirits. It is a sacred, non-spectacular dance, intended to preserve balance between the human world and the invisible.
In India, classical dances such as Odissi, Bharatanatyam, Mohiniyattam, and Kuchipudi preserve divine gestures within temple spaces. These dancers are consecrated women who dance for the deities, but also embody cosmic beauty. Odissi, in particular, with its flowing curves and rhythmic elegance, recalls the sculpted movements of the Apsaras at the Sun Temple of Konark, as well as the temples of Lingaraj and Mukteswar in Bhubaneswar.
Even today, dances that evoke the Apsaras are fragments of the sacred moving between heaven and earth. They unfold in temples, sacred courtyards, and ritual spaces. Some are passed down through generations; others have evolved with time. But all carry the grace of the Celestial Beings.
In these places, dance remains a sacred act — a living memory born from gesture, transmitted as prayer. It fills the world with beauty.
Even today, dances that evoke the Apsaras are fragments of the sacred moving between heaven and earth. They unfold in temples, sacred courtyards, and ritual spaces. Some are passed down through generations; others have evolved with time. But all carry the grace of the Celestial Beings.
In these places, dance remains a sacred act — a living memory born from gesture, transmitted as prayer. It fills the world with beauty.
Want to learn more ?
Discover the full story of the Apsara, between myth, dance and spirituality.
Discover the full story of the Apsara, between myth, dance and spirituality.
A deeper page into their legend
Click to discover it
Choose your language
Unless otherwise stated, all photographs on this page
have property and model releases.
Three Apsara stand in front of the temple gate, inviting dialogue through hand gestures.
Descriptive note
The gesture of Katakaamukha Kbach is visible, with thumb, index, and middle fingers joined, ring and little fingers extended, holding the golden flower called golden flower. Some hands open in the gesture known as Pataka, with the hand flat and palm extended. In this context, the dance seems to say that what is fragile can be held during transition, without being retained.
Collective memory, shared step, echo of a bond that crosses time.
A step that does not touch the ground, a light invitation, a shy offering through gesture.
Descriptive note
The gesture of Katakaamukha Kbach is visible, holding the golden flower. The other hand is raised in the gesture Pataka. In this context, the dance seems to say that what is offered must be protected, but not held back. It is a gift that remains light and may still transform.
Fingers joined, the flank holds the void before flowering.
Descriptive note
The gesture of Katakaamukha Kbach is visible, holding the golden flower. Some hands open in the gesture known as Pataka. In this context, the dance seems to say that what is fragile must be preserved during transition, without forcing its unfolding.
For the beauty yet to come, joy transforms into dance.
Time is drawn by the hands, one a stretched seed, the other light unfolded as if it were already time gone.
Descriptive note
The gesture of Katakaamukha Kbach is visible, holding the golden flower. The opposite hand opens in the gesture known as Pataka. In this context, the dance seems to say that what is offered already exists in memory, and the gesture holds it as a threshold between what has been and what does not return.
Hands seem to say that time will bring new life, yet time remains tyrannical.
Descriptive note
Katakaamukha Kbach to protect what is fragile. Pataka as a complementary gesture of care. The planted foot and suspended gaze create a tension between presence and expectation. The gesture evokes possibility, without affirming it: time remains untamed.
What once was remains carved into gestures, still-dance for those who have yet to return.
They guard a life that never was and invoke one yet to come, the hands.
Descriptive note
The gesture of Katakaamukha Kbach is visible, holding the golden flower. Some hands open in the gesture known as Pataka. In this context, the dance seems to say that what has yet to happen is firmly summoned, without waiting for time.
Heavenly anticipation of those who will come, but not in vain.
The rock became life, blooming from the memory of time.
A silent invitation to look. We have always been here.
It is time itself that bends, to listen.
Descriptive note
The gesture of Katakaamukha Kbach appears, delicately supporting the golden flower. The arms unfold in the movement known as Pataka. In this context, the meaning of the dance seems to say that the offering is gathered in listening, and the gesture awaits what has not yet been spoken.
The wall held them back for those who know how to see.
Let it rise again—not a wish, but the sky’s demand. The gesture holds it, the golden flower keeps it.
Descriptive note
Collective Katakaamukha Kbach performed by three Apsara. The golden flower is held as a vessel of memory. The gesture does not invoke but holds what must rise again. The body asserts the ritual function; the flower acts as sacred sign.
Guardian of the past, the Devata carved in stone, echo of a distant time.
Focused on the gesture, she waits for it to bloom. Angkor.
It cannot be reached by time, dancing.
Descriptive note
Katakaamukha Kbach neither invokes nor accompanies. Though the body moves, it preserves something the landscape attempts to absorb. The gesture communicates continuity and resistance.
In gathering, two tones of waiting, among gestures that do not advance and silences that protect.
Descriptive note
Two variations of the gesture in waiting. The first figure conveys fragile suspension, with Katakaamukha Kbach gathering without opening the body. The second, more composed, in the gesture known as Pataka. For both photographs, this context seems to say that the passage is held but not completed.
Silent guardians of a returning past.
Hope for Angkor, the call of the gesture that speaks through dance.
Filling Angkor with dance, joined hope gives thanks.
Descriptive note
The gesture of Kbach Sampeah is visible, usually used for greeting. In this case, it is employed to welcome the future, giving thanks for what is arriving.
Each figure is a pause in time, each silence, a promise.
Shared gratitude before the silence that listens.
Descriptive note
In this photo, the three Apsara are seen holding the golden flower, gazing toward the Theravāda temple. In this context, the dancers’ gesture seems to say that what was dreamed is gathered and offered into silence, as an act of collective gratitude.
Final sentence The dream has been given, the gesture received, the memory rekindled. Now the dance returns to silence, but remains visible—in the body, in the stone, in the gaze that continues to imagine, and in you, who have shared this journey with me.
Where time whispers among the stones and the jungle caresses the temples.
Go to Angkor.
Light dances among bas-reliefs that tell stories of Gods and men.
Enter Angkor Wat.
