Pangalay (also known as Daling-Daling or Mengalai in Sabah is the traditional "fingernail" dance of the Tausug people of the Sulu Archipelago and Sabah.
The dance is the most distinctively Asian of all the southern
Philippine dances because dancers must have dexterity and flexibility of
the shoulders, elbows, and wrists – movements that strongly resemble those of "kontaw silat,” a martial art common in Maritime South East Asia. The Pangalay is predominantly performed during weddings or other festive events. The male equivalent of the Pangalay is the Pangasik and features more martial movements, while a pangalay that features both a male and female dancer is called Pangiluk.
The original concept of the Pangalay is based on the pre-Islamic Buddhist concept of male and female celestial angels common as characters in other Southeast Asian dances.
Neighboring samal and Bajau peoples call this type of dance, Umaral or Igal, and they sometimes use bamboo castanets as substitutes for long fingernails.
Modern-day Bongao, the capital of Tawi-Tawi province, has trappings
of contemporary living: regular air transport, Internet access, cellular
phones, television and various modes of sea and land transportation.
But some four decades ago when I arrived in the Sulu Archipelago,
Tawi-Tawi still had no electricity and concrete roads. That’s why amid
the flurry of modern living in Bongao at present, scenes from a bygone
era haunt my memory: the call to prayer at daybreak from a distant
mosque; the tantalizing cadence of “kulintangan” music that wafted
unexpectedly anytime from somewhere; the engaging lilt of “lelleng”
(extemporaneous ballad) sung passionately after sundown by a
neighborhood boy with a captivating voice; the hypnotic sound of “lugo”
(chant) earnestly intoned from afar; the lullaby hummed by a solicitous
mother to pacify a baby in a makeshift cradle on a house boat or “lepa.”
Time was when the geographically isolated inhabitants of Sulu and
Tawi-Tawi satisfy the acute need for a mode of dramatic expression and
entertainment through dance. Dancing not only allows them to release
kept energy, but also to assert their creativity in a community of
strongly held traditions and customs.
Intricate movements
The people in the Sulu Archipelago may have several names for the
“pangalay” dance style which has a distinct movement vocabulary. The
Badjaw use the generic term “igal” to name the dance which is
“paunjalay” among the Yakan of Basilan province.
The dance may look quite simple at first glance but upon closer
scrutiny, its intricacy becomes obvious. Even more apparent is the
similarity of pangalay to other Southeast Asian modes of classical
dancing: the Cambodian, Burmese, Thai, Javanese and Balinese. In
Sanskrit or the holy language of much of India, pangalay means “temple
of dance” or “temple dancing.”
Captivated by the beauty of the pangalay, I became passionate in
recording and learning it from innumerable dancers in the Sulu
Archipelago. In order to preserve the dance, I devised a practical way
of remembering postures and gestures, aided by my own silhouette
reflected on the wall by a lighted candle.
The habit irritated my husband because even way past bedtime, I would
still dance and analyze my silhouettes on the wall and figure out if
my shadow matched what was recorded in my mind. This became my routine
every time I would see new postures and gestures from new dancers whom I
chance upon in serendipitous situations.
My shadow silhouettes became the most reliable learning guide since
there was no electricity all over Tawi-Tawi province at the time.
Electricity came only in the 1980s.
Instruction method
In the absence of any formal method of instruction, modifications and
elaboration by countless pangalay performers are inevitable. Also,
owing to the limitless possibilities of improvisation depending upon the
performer’s artistry and skill, it would be a mistake to regard a
particular variant of the pangalay as the correct or authentic form or
style.
To preserve and conserve the abundant pangalay movement vocabulary, a
method of instruction has been developed based on more than four
decades of experience, study, documentation and performance. This is the
Amilbangsa Instruction Method (AIM), which gives equal emphasis on
technique and creativity.
The method of instruction is the key to the preservation of
intangible cultural heritage like the pangalay. Through the AIM, those
who are already dancing the pangalay should be able to distinguish
between the good and the bad manners of dancing (the pangalay), and to
correct whatever may be aesthetically inferior. Flawed techniques that
may even cause injury can be avoided, and the standard of pangalay
training may be elevated.
Lastly, the AIM training program is designed for all ages, for
amateurs, for dancers in other disciplines, for native pangalay dancers
interested to learn effective rehearsal techniques, in order to enrich
their vocabulary of traditional movements already half-forgotten.
The story of how I codified two dances, the “linggisan” and the “igal
kabkab,” demonstrates the painstaking process of preserving and
conserving traditional dance.
Working on ‘linggisan’
To amplify hand movements, the use of “janggay” or metal claws is
popular in the Sulu Archipelago. The janggay magnifies the intricate
hand movements in linggisan (bird dance).
My first glimpse of linggisan was in Jolo, Sulu, in 1969. Gay dancers
performed the “dallingdalling” at Plaza Tulay on Sundays after supper.
The comic song-dance has a serious portion about a bird. This is the
linggisan.
I was impressed upon seeing the sophistication and richness of its
postures and gestures. When danced as a solo number, the Samal and
Tausug used kulintangan accompaniment with a distinct melodic pattern.
The most impressive rendition of linggisan that I witnessed in Jolo was
danced by a woman whose gestures were exceptionally beautiful.
When I arrived in Bongao in 1973, I often saw students and ordinary
people dancing some linggisan movements during school programs and
celebratory gatherings. Learning the linggisan vocabulary involved
serious memory work. Thanks to my reliable candle-and-shadow method, I
pieced together postures and gestures from numerous dancers through more
than two decades of research and experience in the Sulu Archipelago.
This was the long and tedious process of how I created the cohesive
movement vocabulary specific to linggisan alone, which I codified in
stick figures, and later were superseded by my own silhouette figures
that first appeared in my book titled “Pangalay,” published in 1983.
To date, my linggisan choreography is the most complex version that
is a complete dance in itself—with a beginning, middle and ending—that
combines complex postures and gestures distilled from observing many
native dancers.
Original choreography
The fan is a favorite prop in Asian dance. However, the igal kabkab
(literally, fan dance) is not popular among native dancers who obviously
did not treat it as a serious dance, but only for merriment.
I was excited the first time I saw a dancer use the fan in dancing
basic pangalay movements in 1973. This proved to be a rare encounter
because it took another three years, in 1976, before I chanced upon
another dancer who performed the pangalay with a fan, at a moonlight
picnic or “lamburuk” by the beach on Sibutu Island.
Imagining the beauty of pangalay movements with the use of a fan, I
created my original choreography of igal kabkab in 1993—a far cry from
the simple fan dance I witnessed in 1973 and 1976—by fusing more complex
pangalay postures and gestures which I codified.
I was inspired to develop the simple fan dance for a global audience:
My choreography of igal kabkab was intended for the International Dance
Festival in Seoul, South Korea, sponsored by big media institutions
like KBS and Chungang Daily newspaper, and the Korean Culture and Arts
Foundation.
For that occasion, I used the beautiful fan given to me as a present
by the president of Asian Dance Association, Madam Oh Hwa-jin, during
the Asian Dance Festival held in conjunction with the 1988 Seoul
Olympics.
This original igal kabkab choreography is now part of the repertoire
of the dance groups which I co-established, namely Tambuli Cultural
Troupe and AlunAlun Dance Circle. Hopefully, igal kabkab will gain more
prominence in the Sulu Archipelago to demonstrate the rich possibilities
of transforming a simple dance without sacrificing the authentic
character of pangalay.
