FIRST CLASS
ART AND SOUL
Culture and spirituality merge in the Balinese town of Ubud.
BY DAPHNE NIKOLOPOULOS
In the book Eat, Pray, Love, author Elizabeth Gilbert paints a picture of a verdant Eden in Bali where authentic spiritual teachers and healers mingle with tourists and expats looking to find, or reinvent, themselves. It’s appropriate that the Love portion of the title refers to this tiny Indonesian island, because the reference couldn’t be more appropriate. There is much here to love, and though the once-pristine paradise has long since been discovered, the vibrancy of the culture is irresistible.
Ubud, the little artists’ colony in the island’s interior where the final portion of Gilbert’s memoir is set, has managed to maintain its identity and charm despite the onslaught of tourism. Set in the midst of terraced rice fields, where straw-hatted farmers work the land on misty mornings, the town is known as the spiritual home of the Balinese arts, from painting and silversmithing to music and dance. Everywhere you turn there is an artist’s workshop or a Barong performance.
I contemplate this as I stand on the terrace of the Four Seasons Resort Bali at Sayan, watching a group of young girls move rhythmically to the sounds of traditional Balinese instruments. Their headdresses, delicately crafted of tooled leather and frangipani blossoms, shimmer and quiver to the beat. With swan-like movements and wide eyes they tell the story of lost princesses and fallen kings. All the while, the sounds of tiny gongs, cymbals and the xylophone-like gamelan harmonize with the rushing waters of the Ayung River.
The hotel, one of two Four Seasons properties on the island (the other is on Jimbaran Bay), is itself a work of art. On the approach, it doesn’t look like a hotel at all. You first encounter a lotus pond, in the midst of which is a bowl of fire, with a footbridge above the water. It isn’t a pond, exactly, but rather the roof of the main hotel, an elliptical structure that cascades down a hillside to the river’s edge. You descend to the lobby, and on down to the restaurants, spa and library.
The architectural theme of descent is repeated in the villas, which are sprawled across 18 acres of gardens. The roof is a pond, and steps lead down to the villa itself. Decorated in a contemporary Asian style, each villa’s simplicity is warmed by teak furnishings and Indonesian textiles. Private plunge pools and outdoor showers allow guests to connect with the outdoors, which plays a significant role in the Sayan experience. By design, every road leads to a pond, or a jewel of a garden, or the shores of the Ayung.
It’s hard not to feel the spirituality to which Gilbert was referring. There is a meditative quality in Ubud, owed as much to the peaceful surroundings as to the artistic leanings of its denizens. In a woodcarving workshop, the artist looks serene as he chips away at a teak log that will ultimately become a sculpture of a mythical garuda bird. In a tiny roadside theater, a puppeteer practices a disappearing art: performing scenes from the epic Ramakien with antique shadow puppets. Even the homes, with their carved wood doorways and temple-like architecture, look like works of art.
Gilbert’s memoir may have turned the spotlight onto Ubud, but the town’s character isn’t changed for it. Life—and art—happen as always: languidly, blissfully and with reverence for tradition. fourseasons.com/sayan
