VOICES OF VIETNAM

Musician Philip Blackburn went to Vietnam as part of a musical exchange program last year, and we feature his story in the current issue of Dirty Linen. This is just a brief extract of his extensive look at modern Vietnam's musical heritage appearing in Dirty Linen #58.

The first pair of rollerblades entered Saigon in December, 1993 attached to the feet of one Victor, a Brooklyn teen. With a geometrically-shaved design on his head and apparently frictionless motion through the busy boulevards he caused a Red Sea parting wherever he went and left the crowd agape in his wake. I met him on his release from a four-hour detention where he had been helping police with their inquiries. His charge? Not fitting any known human or vehicular category.

The first time American experimental music was introduced to the professional and student musicians of Hanoi, Hue, and Saigon, it created a similar stir; no contingency plans had been laid for that either. Charles Ives' Fourth Symphony with its interfering marching bands disturbed this audience in a way Ives might originally have intended but has since been lost on clash- happy Americans. Riley's In C and Reich's Come Out left them aghast, waiting for some music to emerge from the repetitions. ("But that's too easy," exclaimed one when I tried to explain minimalism to him.) Computer music set them in fits of derisive laughter as did Varese's Ionization until they realized the caterwaulings were actually air raid sirens. On the other hand, some reactions were more positive: excerpts of Bobby McFerrin, Aretha Franklin, David Hykes, Lou Harrison, and Aaron Copland all received spontaneous rounds of applause....

At the Research Institute in Saigon I accepted an offer to play the pile of rocks lying in the corner, a 6,000 year old stone xylophone (the Dan Da). This is the world's second oldest instrument (the oldest is an identical pile now in Paris) and sounds just as it sounded long ago (D-F-G-A-C-D), six ringing tones perfectly tuned in pure pentatonic ratios. Directing the heavy wooden mallets to the shiny playing areas I tried to honor the many generations of ancestors, although I couldn't help wondering about the diplomatic consequences if I broke one of the stones.

During an interview on Voice of Vietnam Radio I was prepared to give in-depth reactions to my experiences of Vietnamese music. The interviewer however chose a different tack and introduced me as an unmarried, 31-year-old composer with a doctorate, and handed me a dilapidated guitar with which to sing one of my songs to all the girls in the national listening audience. "Forgive me, but I am not the marrying or the songwriting kind of guy and I don't know how to play the guitar (even when it has all its strings)." An unfortunate slip of my Vietnamese tones then caused me to confuse Radio Voice of Vietnam with Pissing Voice of Vietnam. After hearing tapes of my experimental music there were no further questions. One method of bridging the conceptual gulf, repeated with success, was for me to sing Appalachian ballads. On counting the tones and reaching five, proof would be apparent that we are all one people, our blood equally red and our music basically pentatonic. The myth of music as a universal language can occasionally be a useful platitude.

Folk song is especially powerful as a symbol of the Vietnamese identity. It was an ultimate gesture of reconciliation; several players of the traditional one-stringed instrument asked me to provide American folksongs for them to learn, so that in future when more Americans return, we will feel at home. Don't be surprised if you hear strains of "We Shall Overcome," "Hills of Galilee," or "Black is the Color" on your next trip to Vietnam...

Other varieties of music thriving in this proud culture are Ca Hue (Hue-style song), Tuong Hue (Hue classical theater), Chau Van (mediums' trance songs, an ancient form of goddess worship), Ngam Tho (poetry declamation), and the chanting styles of buddhist pagodas such as Linh Mu. In some cases the musicians are in their 80s and used to perform for the emperor himself. They are teaching the younger generations and, because these genres admit of little variation or free improvisation, little has been modified. The best known star of Chau Van and Ca Hue is Ai Hoa, a singer in her 40s, whose voice explores all the sensuous slides and cracks inherent in the Hue dialect. Among the songwriters, Tran Huu Phap, Ha Sam, and Nguyen Khac Yen all bring a Hue flavor to their modes and a historic aspect to their lyrics (such as Phap's radio drama on Huyen Tran, a misfortunate 14th Century princess). Other artists also flourish such as the painters Nguyen Duy Linh and Dang Mau Tuu, who bring a Matisse sensibility to Confucian themes, their art rooted in the surrounding tomb-strewn hills of memory...

...Throughout my travels in Vietnam I met with absolutely no hostility at being from the land of "American aggressors." If anyone knew words of English beyond "Hello" it was likely to be "Let bygones be bygones." Others mentioned a waste of blood and money. Even visiting homes where pictures of relatives shot down by my compatriots hung above the family altar, care was taken that I would not feel uncomfortable. The most popular explanation I was given for the open arms extended to Americans was that the Chinese have occupied Vietnamese territory much longer than the Americans ever did so the hatred is proportional. But even without this explanation or the visions of $$ in peoples' eyes, an optimistic spirit of moving forward was everywhere.

In the back room of an English teacher's house I glimpsed the following inscription on the wall: "Thoughts are free. No one can prevent you from thinking any thoughts so long as you don't express them." At this point in Vietnamese history developments in artistic expression are prevented as much by economic reasons as by ideological ones. With the economy growing at 8% per year, the balance between music, money, and ideas, like the daily traffic mayhem, is entering a chaotic period from which a new order will emerge....

There's lots more of Philip's story in the current issue of Dirty Linen.

Philip Blackburn is a composer, singer, and Program Director at the Minnesota Composers Forum. He is working to facilitate contacts between American and Vietnamese musicians and has projects to send recordings and textbooks to Vietnam and begin exchange visits. The World of Vietnamese Music Project, bringing together leading Vietnamese musicians from around the world, will take place in Minnesota during March, 1996. His CD recording of traditional Vietnamese musics, Stilling Time [innova 112] can be ordered through local record stores or from: 1-800-40- MUSIC. Blackburn can be reached at (612) 228-1407; Minnesota Composers Forum/ 332 Minnesota Street #E-145/ St. Paul, MN 55101, or via email at compfrm@maroon.tc.umn.edu

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