The makuṭa (Sanskrit: मुकुट), variously known in several languages as makuta, mahkota, magaik, mokot, mongkut or chada is a type of headdress used as crowns in the Southeast Asian monarchies of today's Cambodia and Thailand, and historically in Java and Bali (Indonesia), Malaysia, Laos and Myanmar.
September 19, 2021
Lalisa deva Lalitavistara wears pointy golden mokot ksatrey lakhon PLUS Hausu
court dances Cambodia, Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand; khol, khon, lakhon dance
They feature a tall pointed shape, are made of gold or a substitute, and are usually decorated with gemstones. As a symbol of kingship, they are featured in the royal regalia of both Cambodia and Thailand.
wayang wong
Etymology and origins
The crown in its various forms originated as headdresses symbolizing jaṭāmakuṭa, the matted hair of an ascetic formed into the shape of a crown, often found in the iconography of Shiva and Avalokiteśvara.
By the turn of the 1st millennia, Hindu-Buddhists of Dharmic civilization emanating from the Indian subcontinent were absorbed and adopted by Indianized Kingdoms in Southeast Asia; from Mekong delta to coastal central Vietnam, from Java to Sumatra and Malay peninsula. Subsequently, the Sanskritization took place in Southeast Asia, hand in hand with the adoption of the Hindu-Buddhist concept of kingship.
Numbers of Sanskrit terms find their way into local languages in the region. The Pali/ Sanskrit word makuṭa was faithfully adopted as makuta within Javanese and Balinese language to describe royal crown, and rendered as Jawi: مهکوتا and mahkota in Malay and Indonesian. The Khmer mokot (មកុដ), Burmese magaik (မကိုဋ်) and Thai mongkut (มงกุฎ) are derived from the same word too. While the Thai chada (ชฎา) is derived from Pali/Sanskrit jaṭā.
Cambodia
There are many types of mokot used in Cambodian tradition throughout its history. Most of mokot used for the Hindu deities and kings who embraced Hinduism represented Mount Meru or Prang whereas for Buddhists, mokot is taller with single-spire presenting chedi (Buddhist stupa). In Royal Ballet of Cambodia, the crown worn by a male royal character of the highest rank is called a mokot ksat and a mokot ksatrey for female characters.
Indonesia
Indonesia, especially Sumatra, Java, and Bali has adopted the Hindu-Buddhist concept of kingship as early as the 4th century CE. Thus the term makuta is loaned into Kawi language or Old Javanese that subsequently become the ancestor of modern Javanese and Balinese languages. In Sumatra, the Old Malay term also adopted makuta and in turn render to mahkota in modern Malay and Indonesian languages. The typical classical Javanese Hindu-Buddhist jatamakuta is evident in numbers of statues and bas-reliefs of 9th century candis in Java, such as Mendut, Borobudur and Prambanan. The Javanese makuta model is more faithfully modeled after the classic Indian crown, which consists of jamang or siger diadem or tiara worn on the forehead encircling the head, while the hair is arranged in a high bun, decorated with a golden ring securing the hair bun, and several golden ornaments.
The Javanese makuta crown is now used in traditional Wayang wong dance-drama performance. Balinese crown was also modeled after the crown of the Javanese style. The Makuta Binokasih Sanghyang Pake is the golden crown of classic Javanese makuta style, originally the crown of Sunda Kingdom and has become the regalia of Sumedang Larang kingdom. The royal crown of Kutai Kartanegara Sultanate was designed in the classical Javanese style, which resembles a king's crown in the Wayang wong (Wayang orang) performance in Java.
2.3 Malaysia[edit]
In Malaysia, the makuta crown is used in traditional Menora dance-drama, which is performed mainly in the northern states of Malaysia. The main Menora character, also known as the Menora, wore a makuta, a kind of high crown made of soft metal. In Malay, this kind of crown is called kecopong instead of the usual Malay word for crowns, mahkota. This makuta has 16 vertically rounded corners, with pom-poms, as well as pointed ears and decorative earrings.[3]
2.4 Myanmar
In pre-colonial Burmese kingdoms, the magaik was one of the five articles of regalia used during coronation ceremonies. The magaik also crowns prominent images of the Buddha. The magaik form of the hti, an umbrella that crowns Burmese pagodas, has nine tiers.[4] In modern-day Myanmar, the magaik is worn by dancers when performing classical forms of Burmese dance.
2.5 Thailand[edit]
In Thailand, the headdress is known by two names: chada and mongkut, and feature a distinctive tall, pointed shape, which was probably acquired from the lomphok, a pointed cloth headdress of Persian origin, during the Ayutthaya period.[5] In the Thai classical dance traditions of khon and the various forms of lakhon, the chada is worn by male characters of royal status, while the mongkut is worn by females. There are many variants of chada and mongkut, reflecting the status of the wearer as well as the occasion. As a symbol of divinity, the mongkut often appears in the iconography of the Buddha and in artistic depictions of devata (divine beings). As a symbol of kingship, the Great Crown of Victory (Phra Maha Phichai Mongkut) forms part of the Regalia of Thailand.
2.6 Other traditions[edit]
Similar crowns are occasionally worn in the Vietnamese Hát tuồng and Hát Chèo theatrical traditions, and are occasionally worn as part of festival garb.
- Holt, John Clifford (1991).Buddha in the crown: Avalokitesvara in the Buddhist traditions of Sri Lanka. New York: Oxford University Press. p. 42. ISBN 9780195362466.
Sada,
Nobuhiko Obayashi, the former experimental filmmaker and ad man turned mainstream director whose eccentric, colorful style was a shot in the arm for the Japanese film industry in the late 1970s and ‘80s, has died. Obayashi had been battling lung cancer for years, far outliving his initial life expectancy—in August 2016, he was told he had three months to live—and he died at home in Tokyo yesterday, according to
Obayashi got his start in Tokyo’s vibrant experimental filmmaking scene in the late ‘50s and ‘60s, learning as he went alongside artists like Yoko Ono and filmmakers like Takahiko Iimura, with whom he founded the Film Independent collective in 1964. Obayashi’s radical politics and free-thinking explorations of the global cultural youthquake led to innovative 8mm and 16mm shorts like The Man Who Ate (1963) and Emotion (1966), films the director once estimated screened at 60 percent of Japanese colleges in the late ‘60s.
These early works were influenced by the similarly idiosyncratic work of A Hard Day’s Night director Richard Lester, as well as Obayashi’s firmly held, lifelong anti-war beliefs. The first brought kinetic stop-motion, collage, and pixelation; the second brought themes of disillusionment informed by Obayashi’s experiences as an elementary school student during World War II. “Adults always lie. That’s what my generation learned,” .
Obayashi’s experimental work attracted the attention of Japanese advertising executives, who began hiring him to bring some of that hip, youthful energy to their TV commercials. Needing a way to pay his bills—in ‘60s Japan, as in 2020s America, experimental filmmaking isn’t exactly lucrative—Obayashi agreed, and ended up directing more than 2,000 TV commercials before transitioning to feature filmmaking full time with Hausu
Among his innovations as a commercial director was helping to popularize the practice of hiring Western movie stars for Japanese TV commercials, a much beloved (and lampooned) tradition that continues to this day. Perhaps the most famous of Obayashi’s ad works is his series of Mandom cologne ads starring Charles Bronson, which frequently feature on found-footage compilations and Alamo Drafthouse theater pre-shows.
After the box-office success of Hausu in Japan, Obayashi became an in-demand director for teen-oriented vehicles for contemporary pop stars. He broke into the mainstream with 1981's School In The Crosshairs, starring teen idol Hiroko Yakushimaru. But although they were aimed at adolescents, these films were fueled by the same anarchic energy as his experimental works: School In The Crosshairs, about a psychic teenager defending her school from fascist aliens, opens with a mind-bending psychedelic sequence and features some delightfully bizarre practical effects designed by the director himself.
Another notable ‘80s hit, 1987's The Drifting Classroom, was based on a manga by Kazuo Umezu, the godfather of Japanese horror manga and an ideal match for Obayashi’s style. And perhaps because of his surrealist bent, the influence of Obayashi’s ‘80s films continues to echo through Japanese animation. 1983's The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, from the novel by Yasutaka Tsutsui, was also adapted by anime legend Mamoru Hosoda in 2006, and 1982's Exchange Student has the same setup as the 2016 anime hit Your Name.
But although he’s best known for his horror, sci-fi, and fantasy work, Obayashi directed films in every genre—all filtered through Obayashi’s unique sensibility, of course. His 1998 film Sada reimagines the story of Sada Abe, the geisha whose murder of her lover by erotic asphyxiation also inspired In The Realm Of The Senses, as a gauzy Hollywood Technicolor romance, the same approach he took to telling the story of cynical postwar Japanese youth in Hanatagami (2017). His final film, Labyrinth Of Cinema, was originally scheduled to be released this weekend in Japan, before it was delayed by COVID-19.
Obayashi was feted by the Tokyo Film Festival with a retrospective in 2019, for which he wrote in a statement:
“Live freely. That’s the mark of peace,” said my father.
He gave me an 8mm camera as if it were his memento when I moved to Tokyo at 18. I screened my first 8mm film in one corner of a Ginza art gallery, which earned international recognition and was acclaimed as the birth of a new film artist.
Since then, I have been making personal films with funds earned by creating TV commercials for 60 years. Invited by the major studio Toho, despite being an outsider, I shot House, which allowed me to recognize that even an aesthetic literary work could be adapted to the commercial film genre.
Although I had the experience of being a naively patriotic supporter of Japan during World War II, I have continued to create films in a variety of genres that imply an antiwar stance. It has been 61 years since my wife, Kyoko Obayashi, prepared herself to become “the wife of a struggling auteur.”
I have worked hard to create films even today with Kyoko, who has supported my films by connecting them with the world, saying “I’m your first audience.”
We have also had the support of our daughter Chigumi, who was one of the original writers of House at the age of 11, her husband and manga artist Takehito Moriizumi, and close friends from the older and newer generations. It was difficult to select the titles for this TIFF tribute, but I hope you will watch my rarely screened films. As the years roll by, there are many more personal films being made, as I always hoped. I hope the audience will enjoy both the signs of freedom and of restricted freedoms in my work. It would be fun if my true character is revealed.