Big Earl Sellar wrote this review.
Until relatively recently, the cultural offerings of Vietnam have been not readily available in the West. Isolated for almost a half century by various conflicts, the music and art of these people have only been found in the Vietnamese community stores of Western cities, transported in for the local residents. Caprice Records of Sweden has offered up five volumes of a more readily available variety of this tradition, allowing those who don’t hunt this stuff down an easier opportunity to discover yet more great music from Asia.
The music of the Vietnamese people is interesting indeed. While influenced by those cultures around them, especially the Chinese, it has certain unique idiosyncrasies. First is a strong use of glissando, or a rapid slur of notes, a musical idea most closely found in India. Second, the use of a wide vibrato on string instruments, most familiar to blues fans and unlike anything else on the Asian continent. And the third most prominent difference is a circular structure to the music itself: motifs recur at odd intervals, as opposed to following the formal structure of most southeast Asian music. Add to this some unique instruments and a willingness to use those of other cultures, and a fascinating musical blend comes forth. It does sound very Asian to Western ears, but the easiest reference points to its structure are Mongolian and Japanese, rather than Chinese or Thai. It’s beautiful stuff.
Volume 1, Music From Vietnam, acts as a general overview of the tradition. Most of the disc is based around the musical association Phong Lan, a group of music educators from the Hanoi conservatory (drawing a parallel to a similar Russian tradition). As a group, and in many splintered projects, they recreate the folk tales of many regions. In ensemble form, as on “Ly hoài nam,” they bring an almost Chinese orchestral sound to the songs. But it’s in smaller groups or in solo performances that they really shine. Particularly haunting is “Hành vân,” a solo piece of stark beauty performed on the dán bàu, a single strung instrument that uses a lever to change string pitch. A second group, referred to as Hát Chèo, introduces a sloppier, and much more earthly take on their songs. Lead by Qu´y Bôn, his take on the classic humourous number “Hé môi su cu” (found on pretty well all Vietnamese tapes I’ve tracked down in town) is rough, dirty, and right on the mark.
Although sadly underrepresented, the a cappella Hát Quan Ho singers provide a few beautiful examples of the oral tradition. With its lilting melody and almost percussive structure, “Giã ban” provides a simple elegance, replete with background rooster crowing! The fourth artist represented is probably the best known Vietnamese musician in the Western world, the guitarist/lutist Kim Sinh. Although uniformly wonderful here, his suite “Tam pháp nhäp mön/Khong minh toa làu,” accompanied by only the bare clacking of the song loan (percussive clave stick), is stunning in its technical mastery. This disc provides a good overview of some of this tradition, although it tries to cram too many divergent styles onto one disc. Still, it’s a good listen.
The second disc The City of Huê, explores the more stately music of the central region of Vietnam. Here, the ornamentation shows stronger Chinese and Indian influences, although the percussive style identifies it as Vietnamese. The music is produced by three groups, each focussing on a different aspect of the traditions of this region. Doán Nghê Thuât Truyen Thong Hue specialize in the court music of this ancient city, and display the greatest influence to outside music. “Nam bang/Kén chien” mixes heavy percussion with strong Indian ornamentation and a piercing melody with almost Celtic overtones. Most of the music is performed by the ensemble Doán ca Hue, representing the classical tradition: they perform some of the most beautiful music on this disc. Their gorgeous take on “Ly quy nh Tuong,” an epic love song, is particularly lilting. The oral tradition is represented by Doán ca Kich Hue, who mix ensemble playing with group vocals. “Ly con Sáo” features a much more spartan backing than most tracks here, with a lovely lead vocal. Unfortunately, the performances on this disc sound fairly rigid, and, while beautiful, don’t really grab the listener’s attention the way that other discs in this collection do.
From a musical standpoint, Disc 3 Ethnic Minorities is the most varied, although not extremely satisfying either. Consisting of field recordings in rural areas, this disc presents some interesting musical ideas, such as “Ru con,” a lullaby performed on the trang lu (a type of flute with a clarinet range), but much of the music contained is strictly audio verité, and frankly not especially compelling in the presentation. Perhaps if grouped together, say all the vocal pieces together, or all the lullabies, the disc would work better. As it stands, to get to the great stuff, like the tuned gongs of “Loóng ba,” one wades through a great deal of droning and meandering music.
The same holds true for the disc Minorities From The Central Highland And Coast, which is an ethnomusicologist’s dream and a listener’s frustration. The other-worldly, often Gamelan-sounding music presented is, of itself, quite striking. Presented by ethnic group as opposed to conventional “ensembles,” the disc features some fantastic ceremony music, lullabies, and work songs. But for every track that truly attracts, such as the zither based “Che-chut chan Iaxier,” one goes through several minutes of neat sounds and little structure, as on “Po ro cha ba” performed on the k’long put (a percussive instrument played by clapping hands into bamboo poles, sounding like a synthesizer). Again, bereft of context, much of this music makes little sense, and with each radical shift in song style, the disc becomes more confusing rather than mesmerizing. Which is a shame, really, as there is some fantastic stuff buried on these discs.
Kim Sinh, the blind guitarist featured on Volume 1, has been given his own disc in this series. Perhaps this is not too surprising, given that he was championed by American Ry Cooder, resulting in this disc, The Artistry of Kim Sinh. (To put it bluntly, guitarists make very good comrades in arms indeed!) The guitar first appeared in Vietnam during the original French contact over a hundred years ago, and has been adopted into many musical realms. To mimic the possibilities afforded by the nguyêt or moon lute, an instrument of Chinese origin that Sinh is also a master of, he has deeply scalloped the fretboard of his instruments, allowing him the ability to perform deep bends and the the greatest vibrato technique this side of B.B. King. This disc showcases Sinh, now in his 70’s, playing traditional melodies on varied stringed instruments, often accompanied by his students. While some of the music blisters by at blinding speed, and is not easily comprehensible, his musical mastery adds a sense of definition missing on many tracks in this series. “Liéu durong hoàng thiên khúc” features him solo, running variations on traditional scales over a traditional poem song. His blistering technique on the moon lute, as on “Dinh Lan-Tan Phong,” combines gentle melodicism with an emotional technique we equate with musical genius. And to hear him play transcendent lap steel guitar, as on “Cây Trúc Xinh,” is awe inspiring. Although largely instrumental, the disc has much to offer even non-musicians in its artistry.
Outside of the two Minorities discs, which are field recordings (albeit well-done ones), the recording quality on these discs is superb. Subtle differences in dynamics, and the nuances of the playing styles, are all highly audible here. The packaging is well done, with good explanations of the musical contexts, the instruments used, and the artists themselves. Volume 1 is a little confusing, as the track information on what artists are playing on each track, does not always conform to the songs presented, which often have different instruments playing than the ones that the artists are credited for. This is remedied on the other discs. The photography is very well done, given the type of project we’re talking about, and there is a very professional, even commercial presentation given to the series. As an added bonus, these discs are readily available through regular Internet channels.
Given the breadth of what’s available here, it’s hard to make recommendations. Both the introductory disc and The Artistry of Kim Sinh are excellent introductions to the Vietnamese tradition. While the other discs have much to offer, they don’t not always make for cohesive or entertaining listening. But I applaud Caprice Records for releasing these discs, and allowing us listeners another note from our world’s great musical traditions.
(Caprice Records, 1991-2003)
