What is culture? And why is the relevant ministry intent on promoting Malaysia, at the cost of millions, as the region's main shopping destination?

The more astute may argue why not? After all, Malaysians will soon spend their entire lives at shopping complexes - as children on family shopping trips, teenagers lepaking , young adults dating, married couples shopping, parents with their children, and senior citizens lepaking .

This fact was obviously not lost on the government which, having craftily packed the arts, culture and tourism under the one ministry, recently hosted a week-long series of "cultural" drum performances mainly at ... shopping centres.

Such cynicism, or insight, nonetheless appeared to have paid off when several hundred Malaysians of all walks and ages abandoned the regular national centres of culture and converged on the grounds of Istana Budaya - that palace of culture accessible only to the most determined explorer - to soak up KL's thick, hot evening air and absorb rhythms from around the globe.

Drumusique KL 2000 was the ministry's treat to KLites, and last Saturday's closing ceremony - a culmination of the week's smaller performances across the capital - was nourishing and thought provoking, shedding light on how culture (in this case, music) is perceived.

Despite its Western consumerist tendencies, Malaysian society remains a rich mosaic of cultures, where classical (or traditional) music is not entirely removed from the way of life, most noticeably during festivities.

So it wasn't a problem for the audience not only to marvel at the musicianship and enjoy the entertainment value of drumming as an art form, but also share the inherent joy and soul of the region's rhythms:

India's fantastic flying drummers from Manipur, the rustic song and dance of Korea's Samul Nori, Indonesia's Tepak Rampak Rantak drum and mime, not to mention Kelantan's Kertok and Johor's Zapin - traditional and fusion, and refreshingly Malay. And who would have found it possible to stop swaying gently to the lilting vibes of "Brazil" played on steel drums by young students from Trinidad & Tobago?

All these had in common music deeply rooted in culture and way of life, effused with a sense of communal celebration far removed from the glitz of pop music or showiness.

In contrast, the latest incarnation of artistic director Lewis Pragasam's percussive amalgam, Asiabeat, was an attempt at melding "traditional" with "contemporary", the latter invariably meaning Western rock.

To be fair, there haven't been too many successful marriages of this sort and Asiabeat was no exception, Pragasam's booming rock drum kit (raised centre stage above all else) drowning out the loosely assembled Malay and Indian sections and dominating the set with obvious musicianship played to impress.

Not only did the sum of the parts fail to fuse convincingly, but in the face of international standards, the resulting hybrid was simply not good enough, save for flashes of brilliance by the very young Chinese component (not incidentally the only section loud enough to stand up to Pragasam's heavily-miked kit).

Just as impressive then must have been Pete Lockett (Taiko to Tabla), who showed that if Asians can master Western rock drums, so then could a British memorise Indian raga. While Malaysians sat agape, fixated by a white man coming to Asia to perform on tabla (and better at that than our Asiabeat brother from Sentul), the cruel irony of colonialism coming full cycle must have dawned on those who sat uneasily through the English-tinged accent. (Of course there is every possibility that the tabla, in the hands of a Westerner, gained newfound respectability; but only in colonised minds.)

In his book "No Full Stops In India", retired BBC journalist Mark Tully noted the phenomenon of cultural imperialism, where renowned British and American sculptors descended on India to learn from master craftsmen, employ cheap labour and then exhibit the works as their own back home.

But just to show this was nothing personal, Lockett was quickly joined by two other Brits (dressed in Japanese robes) who collectively pounded on Japanese Taiko drums, going through the motions with much show but little soul.

Where Asiabeat was an attempt, however Eurocentric, at building bridges, Taiko to Tabla cannot simply shrug off Britain's colonial past, and lays itself open to accusations of cultural imperialism - where one small component of a spiritually rich culture (India) is spirited back to the Motherland, stripped of its context and sanitised for local (Western) consumption.

Hence, the rave reviews in the UK: "A truly global mix of percussive brilliance. Something memorable guaranteed" ( Time Out ) and "... will have the audience bouncing off the roof" ( The Independent ). But after the novelty evaporated, Malaysian audiences would have surely wanted to know the point of hearing Westerners play Asian instruments in KL. (Organisers: please note.)

Drum Drum's version of bridging cultures was only slightly less disconcerting. Removed from its natural setting, the traditional songs and dances of Papua New Guinea, as recited by the Darwin-based mix of Papuan and European performers, was another attempt at cultural preservation through careful packaging.

This inevitably also meant appropriately minimal attire - grass skirts, garlands, leafy head dress - which stood almost stark naked against the Arab fashion currently in vogue locally. But even if the lighter members appeared distinctly odd, whatever strangeness was soon forgotten when two brief-clad male dancers started swinging phallic extensions, dispelling any illusions of a U-rated evening.

That's the beauty of cultural exchange, and an appreciative, multi-age, cross-cultural audience finally got of their bums to engage in some collective butt-shaking for the encore jam session, perhaps a little late in the evening, but a no less warm sight to behold.

So, as expensive as the event (not to mention poorly designed, mistake-ridden programme brochure) must have been, it was surely a fraction of the "millions" slated to promote Malaysia as a shopper's paradise, with clearly more heart-warming results than the Minister's "we have no target" shopping campaign. There is life beyond shopping carnivals.

JEFFREY TAN is weekend editor of malaysiakini .