by Jim Goodman
 |
| drummers at a temple ritual in Hanoi |
Drums have always been a
part of Vietnamese culture. Drums
and other beating instruments are part of every musical ensemble, from trios to
full orchestras. Yet historically
speaking percussion per se was not simply to accent the rhythms of musical
melodies. Drums played a role in
situations where there was no music to accompany. Drumbeats of regular cadence announced the passage of high
mandarins through the streets.
Sentinels beat big drums to announce fires or the bursting of a
dike. Authorities used drums to
assemble citizens. Even during the
performance of songs drums were used independently of the music to underline the
sentiments of songs. Drums even
amplified the audience reaction with drumbeat rolls to underscore the applause
or a run of discordant beats to emphasize disapproval.
 |
| playing at the Hai Bà Trưng festival |
Besides drums, gongs and
chimes also have an ancient tradition.
Originally these were made of stone. Artisans shaped different sizes of tubes for the chimes and
usually cut the stone gong in the shape of a fat crescent. Later on bronze became the favored
material. Chimes were only
installed in temples, but gongs, though also in the temples, were used in processions,
both religious and secular.
The urge for percussive
expression did not remain limited to drums, gongs, cymbals and chimes. The Vietnamese also developed a range
of clappers and woodblocks to produce rattling and knocking sounds subtly different
from each other and from the sounds they could obtain from their drums. The clappers consisted of a pair of
flexible bamboo tongs, on the end of which were mounted a pair of thin,
crescent-shaped pieces of wood, or an animal head which struck a wooden disk,
or a pair of slit hardwood blocks.
When handled skillfully these sounded like castanets.
The woodblocks included solid
pieces, partly hollowed blocks or carved frogs with a ribbed back, and pieces
shaped like big seeds, with slits in one side. Exactly how big the wooden piece was and how much of it was
slit or hollowed determined precisely what kind of sound it gave when hit with
a wooden mallet. And they were all
slightly, to a trained ear, recognizably different.
 |
| slit hardwood knockers |
Bells of various kinds
included the bronze temple bells as well as small bells attached to sticks or
lotus shaped- wooden rattles, or embedded in hollow, hand-sized rings.
The range of percussion also
included bamboo tubes of various sizes that when struck gave off different
sounds accordingly. The tubes
could also have a corrugated band of notches on one side, like the carved frogs. When the player rolled the mallet along
the notches it produced a scraping, rattling sound similar to that of the
washboard used in jug bands in the rural United States.
The ensembles that entertain
diners at swanky restaurants in the big cities of Vietnam use several different
percussion instruments in their shows.
Among the more recent additions to the percussion set are small,
handle-less porcelain teacups. The
player holds a pair in the fingers of each hand and rattles them at the appropriate
moments.
 |
| playing the wooden frog |
 |
| teacup percussion |
Clappers and woodblocks join
the drums, gongs and other instruments in festival processions, too. On these occasions, though, an
essential percussion instrument is one that is of strictly Vietnamese origin,
not taken from the Chinese or any of the hill peoples. Called sênh tiền
in Vietnamese, it is kind of a two-piece coin clapper. In the left hand the player holds a
pair of narrow wooden boards, about 2.4 cm wide and 1 cm thick. The top piece is 30 cm long, ribbed on
the top surface, and joined to a bottom piece 33 cm long, which is ribbed on
the bottom surface. The two are
joined at a point about 8 cm from the near end.
 |
| sênh tiền players |
About 1 cm from the far end of
the lower board a mounted screw, standing upright about 2 cm, holds a pair of
old coins with square holes in the center. Two more upright screws at the end of the upper board hold a
pair each of these coins. At the
hinge the clapper opens up to about 75 degrees. When the player opens the clapper at the hinge and closes it
the coins on the screws jingle. In
the right hand the player holds a similar wooden board, 31 cm long, about 2.3
cm wide and 1 cm thick. Both the
top and bottom surfaces are smooth and usually embellished with some flowery
mother-of-pearl inlay. This piece
is ribbed on the sides and the player draws the ribbed sides against the ribbed
top and bottom surfaces of the coin clapper while playing it.
The most common appearance of
this instrument is at the head of a procession column during one of the big
annual festivals. The sênh tiền
players are usually women, but occasionally include one or two older men. The men will dress in the ancient
farmer style, with a loose, translucent, thin black tunic over a side-fastened
shirt and a pair of trousers, yellow headband and, just for the procession, a
bright, spangle-studded sash. The
women wear the loose, four-flap tunic over long skirts and a white blouse,
multi-colored belt with a long front end, and thick red headbands.
The sênh tiền
players usually lead the column.
The processions are generally slow and stately, while the sênh tiền
players both dance and play their instruments. The space for their performance is quite limited and always
inching forward, but the players make good use of it. Their dance steps are slow but rhythmic, the movements of
their arms and legs as graceful as those by chèo stage performers. The bright flaps of their costumes
swirl colorfully when they turn and all their gestures and steps correspond to
the subtle rattling and tinkling of their instruments.
 |
| ca trù performance in Bạch Mã Temple, Hanoi |
One of the simplest percussion
instruments is the phách, which is
simply a thin, slightly curved piece of hardwood beaten with a pair of wooden
sticks, and played by a ca trù
singer. She sings traditional folk
ballads dating back many centuries that praise the beauty of the countryside
and the joys of rural life. The genre is also known as hát ả đào,
after a young woman named Ả Đào who sang such songs to the
Chinese soldiers encamped by the river.
So charmed were they by her voice they kept drinking more and more
alcohol to enhance their appreciation.
When the soldiers had become completely drunk Vietnamese guerrillas
suddenly swarmed into the camp and pushed the drunken soldiers into the river,
where they all drowned.
After the expulsion of the
Chinese and the establishment of the Lê Dynasty hát ả đào’s
popularity spread. At the Lê court
it became the favorite form of royal entertainment. Comprising a single female singer backed by three
instruments, one stringed and two percussion, the shows were quite restrained,
almost austere, compared to the stage productions of chèo and tuồng put on by the previous
Trần
Dynasty court. But to enjoy hát ả
đào performances Vietnamese music-lovers did not have to depend upon a
royal invitation to come hear it at the court. Inns sprang up in the capital that employed hát ả
đào singers in more private settings.
Customers at these inns,
mostly male, celebrating the birth of a son, promotion in rank, conclusion of a
business deal, etc, purchased a number of bamboo tally cards (trù) upon entry. At the conclusion of
each song they gave some of these to the singer, the number of trù depending on how much they liked the
song. When the inn closed for the
night the proprietor paid the girls according to the number of trù they received. The singing genre then acquired another
name—ca trù (songs of the tally
card)—that today is used interchangeably with hát ả đào.
 |
| playing the phách for a ca trù song |
Usually the set began with a
song the first line of which was, “Now that the evening is falling, whoever
wants to buy sadness in handfuls, I shall sell it to him.” Their repertoire included old folk
songs, boatmen’s ballads, antiphonal singing (quan họ), the
compositions of scholars, and tunes from neighboring countries, and later on
from France. Nowadays the inns
have disappeared, but the ca trù
tradition has enjoyed a revival in recent decades. Besides regular shows at Đình Kim Ngân in Hanoi’s Hàng Bạc
Street, ca trù is now part of many
festival programs. And the songs
and presentation have not differed since classical times.
The singer herself sets
the basic rhythm playing the phách. A small cylindrical drum adds extra
percussion. Providing the melody
is an indigenous three-stringed instrument peculiar to Vietnamese music called
the đàn dáy, invented for this genre
and played exclusively by men. The
đàn dáy player has to fit a melody
into the framework provided by the beating of the phách. The drummer uses his instrument less
for the rhythm than to make his own comments on the singing. If he likes it he plays a quick roll on
the drum several times, as a kind of applause. If he doesn’t like it he merely raps the side of the drum
twice.
Cylindrical drums of various
sizes are part of the orchestras backing other forms of traditional
entertainment, such as water-puppet shows, chèo
and tuồng
theater. In addition to providing
rhythm for the music, drums also serve to heighten the atmosphere of selected scenes
in the drama being staged, and to enhance the excitement during festival
contests. Temples also have needs
for drums, with large ones installed inside to accompany rituals and smaller
ones stored fur use in festival processions.
 |
| the "thunder drum" for Hanoi's millennium |
 |
| drum-making at Đọi Tam's festival |
The religious and cultural
revival characteristic of 21st century Vietnam has been a real boon
to the economy of Đọi Tam, a village in Hà Nam province south of
Hanoi. Đọi Tam is one
of the country’s hundreds of craft villages and its specialty is making
drums. It supplies drums to
temples and theater groups all over Vietnam and its craftsmen also made the huge drum, 2.3 meters in diameter, installed in the Hanoi Citadel for the city’s millennium
celebrations in 2010.
The tradition began with the
visit of the Vietnamese sovereign Lê Hoàn in 986 to perform a royal plowing
ceremony. For the occasion, two Đọi
Tam villagers presented the king with a 1.4 meter-tall drum they’d made,
nicknamed the “thunder drum” for the deep sound the size of it produced. Ever since then Đọi Tam has been
producing “thunder drums” and others of various sizes.
 |
| fitting the staves in place |
The village today holds about
2200 residents, with around 600 engaged in drum production. Craftsmen pass on the skills to their
sons and their sons’ wives, but not to the daughters, since they will marry
out. Children become aware of the
trade and its tradition from an early age, while apprenticeship, when they
learn how to make and repair drums, starts at around age 14. The village also has a drum troupe, of
12 males and 48 females, who play at other village festivals or for
government-sponsored shows.
Two small hills lie just
outside Đọi Tam. At the top of one
of these is Chùa Long Đọi Sơn, originally built in 1118 and more or less in
continuous use since. On the 19th
day of the 3rd lunar month the temple is one of the venues for
celebrating Đọi Tam’s annual festival.
Devotees come to make offerings, including messages to the gods written
by scribes seated in the courtyard, and watch the dancers performing rituals
honoring the Holy Mothers.
 |
| testing the drumhead |
Meanwhile, at the village
communal house (đình) at the edge of
Đọi Tam, male elders in silk robes and tall miters conduct rituals honoring the
10th century founders of the drum-making tradition. Following this comes a kind of
ceremonial demonstration of the final stages of putting together a drum,
performed by a pair of young men costumed in red headbands and bright red and yellow
sleeveless tunics. The wood for
the staves, which comes from the jackfruit tree, is already cut into its curved
shapes, but has to be filed down along the edges for the staves to fit together
perfectly. When the staves are
ready the workers use a hoop to hold the staves and put them in the proper
barrel shape.
The last step is to attach the
drumhead, made of buffalo hide, shaved thin and sun-dried in preparation. While a fastening hoop keeps the hide
in place, workers use a hammer and a small stake, constantly sharpened, to make
little indentations in the hide against the wood of the rim. The penultimate step is to test the
drumhead by dancing on it. With
final tightening and a last inspection by the elders, the task is
completed. The past has been
honored and the present blessed.
As for the future, drums are still a feature of life in Vietnam. And Đọi Tam will continue to produce
them.
 |
| "thunder drum" in a Hanoi temple |
*
* *
No comments:
Post a Comment