Kyrgyz nomadic music Taking the soundscape from the landscape

Author: Joyce Man

Legend has it that one khan, or ruler, ordained that any bearer of bad news should have his head cut off. One day, this khan's most beloved horse died, but no one had the courage to convey this news to him. Finally, a musician came and, through the sad sound of his performance, relayed the unfortunate message to the khan, who immediately understood what had happened. Thus, all heads were spared.



In Kyrgyzstan, instrumental music without words is called küü. Evidently, one can say a lot through music, but for these Kyrgyz nomadic performers especially, their music today says a whole lot about them. In the eyes of these migrating pastoralists, whose lives and culture were dramatically influenced by Soviet collectivization, it has become an expression of their historical national identity.

Music is often a highly individual enterprise for Kyrgyz nomads, who play or sing while alone in the field or at home during the day. What they create on their own is very different from the music of their sedentary counterparts. Kyrgyz vocalists are distinguished in their ability to sing long, draw-out notes in one breath.

Epic recititation, the telling of heroic tales, is an important part of this art form. The most famous of Kyrgyz epics is Manas, a poem which, at 150,000 lines, is 20 times longer than Homer's Odyssey. It is performed over a 7-month period by a manaschi, a shaman reciter who has memorized the entire work. Beginning in November, when the days begin to shorten, and ending in May, when summer returns, the manaschi performs a part of it everyday.

Kyrgyz nomadic musicians take competitions as chances to display their skill, and all take to using flamboyant, exaggerated gestures to show off the agility of their fingers and mastery over their instruments. Often, the movement accompanying the music is important for conveying what is being said instrumentally.