Narrator: It will take 1,000 sheets
of pure gold to cover this mask
of the mythical demon king Ravana.
He is a main character in Thai Khon,
a traditional dance that depicts
a battle between good and evil.
For 600 years,
artisans have dedicated their lives
to making these masks.
But the popularity of the dance
has been dying out since the 1950s.
Narrator: Today, Prateep Rodpai
is helping to keep the art alive.
We went to Ang Thong, Thailand,
to see how the tradition of making
these masks is still standing.
Paper makes up the base of every Khon mask.
Narrator: And this clay mold will give it shape.
Each mask requires a different kind,
and Prateep has made dozens over the years.
He covers it with petroleum jelly
so the paper doesn't stick to it.
It takes him two hours to build 10 layers of paper.
There are four main characters in Khon.
Heroes, heroines, monkeys, and demons.
They depict characters from the battle
between Rama and Ravana,
two kings who represent good and evil.
Monkeys make up Rama's army of warriors
fighting to save the heroine from Ravana.
Today, Prateep is making the mask
of the demon king for a performance.
He shapes the face with strips
of white cement he's prepared.
Narrator: It's a discomfort
Prateep has become used to.
He learned mask-making from his uncle
when he was 14 years old.
Narrator: To this day,
many of his family members still perform Khon
with the masks he creates.
Prateep shapes the decorative details
of the crown one by one using a stencil.
Narrator: This pattern is common in Thai architecture,
often seen at Buddhist temples and monasteries.
There are over 300 variations of Khon masks,
and Prateep has memorized them all.
Narrator: Then, it's time to cover the crown in gold.
Other mask-makers use paint,
but he only uses pure leaves of .03 carats each.
Narrator: This technique is called gilding.
Gold for a mask this size
can cost 10,000 Thai baht, or $260.
Prateep is careful to not waste.
Narrator: The brush helps him
get to the narrow corners.
It takes him up to three hours to gild one mask.
Narrator: Today, he works alone in his small workshop.
Prateep uses plank wood
to make the outer details, like the ears.
Then it's time to paint.
The colors must be vibrant
so audiences can see even
the smallest detail clearly on stage.
Ravana's skin is usually green or dark blue,
and he has fierce facial features.
In the past, mask-makers made paint
from extracts of flowers and tree barks.
But now, most opt for waterproof
acrylic paint to save time.
Narrator: Jewels like these
can be used to signify the power
a Khon character holds.
Narrator: He assembles Ravana's three-tier crown.
The two heads represent his 10 heads
and connection to the Hindu god Brahma.
Finally, the mask is ready for performance.
Khon originally was only performed
during royal ceremonies
in the Ayutthaya period
from the 14th to 18th century.
The craft nearly disappeared
when film and television
became a more popular form
of entertainment in the 1950s.
It regained some popularity
in the 1990s
when the Thai queen Sirikit promoted it.
But it never made a full comeback.
Nowadays, performing arts schools
teach the dance across the country.
Khon combines multiple art traditions in Thailand,
including sword fighting and shadow puppetry.
It pulls inspiration from Buddhism
and the Hindu story of Ramayana.
Students start as young as 8 years old
and must endure years of training
in classical dance, martial arts, and acting.
Narrator: Maneeprapha Khun-Ard
has dedicated most of her life to Khon.
But there was a time
she wouldn't be allowed to do this at all.
Up until the 18th century,
only men could perform,
even in the female roles.
Maneeprapha has learned
from her grandfather, who is a master.
Her group mainly dances at school events,
cultural festivals, and funerals.
Narrator: Prateep believes
the only way to save his craft
is to preserve the tradition.
But the past few years have been tough
since all live performances came
to a halt during the pandemic.
Prateep didn't get new orders for months
and was forced to move his workshop
away from Bangkok to save money.
Narrator: But he managed to stay afloat.
Nowadays, he sells about
two or three masks a month,
mainly to tourists.
But he still worries his craft
may not survive another crisis like the pandemic.
That's why passing it on
to the next generation
is so important to him.
He's trained dozens of people over 40 years.
Narrator: And he hopes his masks
will continue to tell the story
of Thailand's rich culture.
Narrator: Hi, this is the Still Standing team.
Over the past year,
we've met artisans from around the world
who preserve traditional methods and techniques
like preparing soy sauce in Japan,
cleaning leather in Morocco,
and making the perfect mirrors in India.
If you enjoy our videos,
please like and subscribe
to see more stories about the people
keeping centuries-old traditions alive.
And if you have an idea for a video you'd like to see,
let us know in the comments.
Thank you.