PART I

Introduction

PART I

INTRODUCTION

The subject matter of this study consists of a Tibetan liturgical songbook presented in its entirety and of a second work, a “textbook” of which a small part is shown. The reason for considering two manuscripts is that they differ considerably in organization and presentation of textual and notational materials and in the way they are used by the Masters of the Chant. The first book, shown in Part II, is a dbyangs-yig (lit. , “written account of song”), a songbook which from now on will be called yang-yig. As already mentioned, it was written down from memory by the Lama Senge Norbu who belonged to the skarma-pa (from now on called Karma-pa) sect, a subsect of the influential parent sect of the bkah-(b)rgyud-pa (from now on called Kagyu-pa). While there are some differences between the parent and subsect, the musical styles of the Kagyu-pa and Karma-pa are identical. As this study deals to a great extent with musical matters of the Karma-Kagyu sects, the letter K is being used to identify musical phenomena of these two sects. The yang-yig under consideration, although of K origin, can be used by other Tibetan religious sects as well. The notational symbols are interpreted differently by other sects but the written symbols are accepted and comprehended by every Master of the Chant, irrespective of the sect to which he belongs.

The second manuscript, a dbyangs-deb (lit. , “song document”), from now on called yang-deb or “textbook” of the sa-skya-pa(Sakya-pa) sect, identified with the letter S will be discussed in Part IV. While the yang-yig contains most of the notated songs together with some essential textual syllables, the “textbook, 11 also called skang-gso (a work that “mends, “ or “restores” all the material not given in the yang-yig), deals mainly with textual matters although it also contains a few notated songs. In order to study the procedures of religious rites it would be necessary to have available the two related books: the yang-yig and the yang-deb. As I was unable to obtain a pair of correlated K documents I had to confine myself to the presentation and discussion of а K yang-yig and of a part of an S “textbook” not directly related to each other. They nevertheless illustrate the methods of presenting the musical and textual material of religious rites.

It seems appropriate to say here a few words about the late Lama Senge Norbu who, as previously stated, wrote from memory and chanted the yang-yig for me. In actual performances in monasteries all vocal items of the Tibetan Buddhist rite are chanted by a choir of monks. Solo singing in this particular realm does not exist. Thus the Lama’s (solo) chanting can offer only the contours of melodies which when performed by a large group of monks may have been subject to some modifications. The Lama was born more than seventy years ago in Kham Dekhu, Tibet. After many years of study and training in several monasteries he eventually became Master of the Chant at the Kham Pabung Monastery. This famous monastery, which belongs to the Kagyu-pa sect, is, by horse-back, about two days distant from Derge in Khams. The Lama, who held the high position in his monastery throughout his mature life, had to leave his home land when the Chinese entered Tibet. He spent the few remaining years of his life in Katmandu, Nepal.

The yang-yig contains seventy-nine pieces used in the tantric rite. Some of the pieces, I shall call them songs from now on, are separate items, while others are linked together and form groups. The tantric character is already evident in the title of the yang-yig, where reference is made to the yab-yum (“father-mother,” “male-female”) concept; further evidence is that a considerable number of songs are directed to Mahākāla (Tib. , NagpoChenpo) and his spouse Lhamo or Mamo.Of similar import are the sacred syllables Bhyo (meaning Lhamo), Hsi (Hri or Hrui), Dsa (Dza) and, of course, Om and Hum, all employed in the tantric rites. In some songs an unusual voice production can be noticed that occasionally is indicated by the word rtsing (“rough” ). One of the two famous tantric schools of Lhasa, the rgyudstodpa(“upper school”) used to specialize in instructing the students in this remarkable manner of chanting. It is a deep, roaring, throaty sound that cannot be forgotten if once heard performed correctly.

The age of the yang-yig cannot be determined with any certainty and the estimates concerning its age vary from five to eight-hundred years. The latter estimate was made by the Lama Senge Norbu. If the age of a song is determined by establishing when the author (or alleged author) lived, then some of the songs, those written by the sixth and seventh Lamas of the Karma-pa, date back to the fifteenth century. However, those written by the fifteenth Karma-pa Lama (who died in 1924) must have been written in the twentieth century or no earlier than the latter part of the nineteenth.

In a letter addressed to me, Lama Senge Norbu stated that “the chanting of the songs is often interrupted by recitations of prayers which are not shown in the manuscript. When performed in succession the songs contained in the book were begun at midnight and would end, after numerous repetitions, seven days later. “I was told that at various occasions only a few songs are chosen from the yang-yig and performed together with recited prayers in the big hall of the monastery. As the texts of the yang-yig often appeal to various terror deities and the songs become part of the “terrible rites,” the night is the most appropriate time for their performance. The days when the songs can be chanted are the seventh, eighth, fourteenth, seventeenth, and twenty-ninth of the month, and immediately before the New Year when offerings are presented to the numerous deities. In addition these songs can be performed at special occasions such as services in honor of the great saints, founders and protectors of religion, which can be held at any time during the day or night. Some of the songs of the yang-yig are appropriate to the several stages of the Buddhist ritual. There are songs invoking the deity, others that invite the deity to enter the temple and rest within its walls, there are songs of offering, praise, special songs, prayer songs, songs of benediction, and so forth. At certain points during the offerings which vary slightly from one sect (and occasion) to the other, musical instruments are employed, another sign of the tantric character of the songs. While the chanting is in progress only drum and cymbals are used. After a song (or strophe) has been completed the wind instruments join the percussion instruments and play until the next song (or strophe) is started. In the last two-hundred years, drones (probably influenced from India) have appeared in connection with the liturgical chanting. In Tibet these drones were not performed on long-necked lutes (tanburas) as in India, but by long copper and brass tubes with a conical bore. These and some other instruments employed in Tibetan monasteries and temples will be mentioned below.

With a few exceptions when the recording equipment broke down, each song is shown in Part II in its Tibetan notated form and is provided with the transcriptions of three interpretations. The first is the K interpretation and below it are given two S interpretations marked as S I and S II respectively. As already mentioned, the two S interpretations were chanted for me by Mr. Jigdal D. Sakyapa, a man very well versed in the music of the Sakya-pa sect, of which he is a member. He comes from Sakya, west of Lhasa, and now resides in the United States. The two recordings he chanted for me (the recordings were made six months apart) show a remarkably free interpretation of the notational symbols, and differ greatly from the recording made by the Lama Senge Norbu. There is no doubt that the Lama’s version is a highly authoritative interpretation because his melodies follow closely the features indicated by the notational curves. The S I and S II versions are different and offer other, no less interesting interpretations in the style of an equally important sect, the Sakya-pa. The description of the various interpretations of the notational symbols will be discussed briefly in Part II and in detail in Part III.

The learned Tibetans I had the privilege to know and consult stated almost unanimously that the interpretations of notated songs remain unchanged and that no alterations of melodies or texts are permissible. But even a cursory examination of the K, S I, and S II interpretations shows that changes in melody and text do occur while the written material is, of course, the same. In a few instances I was able to obtain more than one recording of the same song, and they show that changes in interpretation happen not only between one sect and another, but also within the same sect. An individual may chant the same song differently at different times. The question can be asked: Are the learned Tibetans mistaken, or were the recordings incorrect although they were made by a Master of the Chant and by an equally highly trained person? It appears that neither are wrong but that the concept of “identical” performances requires some investigation.

For many centuries Tibetans looked at India as the paragon in religious, cultural, and artistic matters. India was the home of the great religion that eventually encompassed all of Tibet, and as well the home of the great teachers and of the vedic chant. The Devanagari script had a marked influence on Tibetan writing; Tibetans would travel across the mountains to India to be instructed not only in religious but in numerous other fields as well. Although Tibet never evolved anything similar to the elaborate Indian raga concept, the attitudes of musicians and singers toward the actual making of music is similar in both countries. An Indian singer can perform a considerable number of melodies in the same raga as long as the required rules and regulations of the raga are observed. For most of these singers one melody is identical with the next because the rules of the raga are the same. During my long stay in India I frequently observed the following sequence of events: an Indian singer or musician would perform a certain melody for me and I would notate it on paper. Then, in order to check the correctness of the melody I would ask the musician to repeat his performance as exactly as possible. He then produced a melody which, although within the same raga, was different from the first. When I pointed this out to him, he would smile politely and insist that his second performance was not just similar but identical with the first one. A vaguely similar attitude can be observed in the performance of Tibetan sacred songs. As already mentioned, Mr. Sakyapa recorded for me on tape all the songs of the yang-yig. About six or seven months later a second recording was made. The results of these two performances can be observed in my S I and S II transcriptions. The situation is somewhat different if not one single person but a group of monks performs in unison. In such instances the change will not occur within six months, but after a longer period of time. It is obvious that even in a well-directed monastery where hundreds of monks chant, the unison will not be perfect and heterophonic features will happen, probably not during the first few well rehearsed performances, but later, after the songs had been in use for some time. One can assume that certain passages of the songs will be cut short, that wide intervals will tend to become narrow, and that sooner or later less important textual syllables will become obscure or be replaced by other easily singable syllables. The majority of Masters of the Chant would still believe that no changes had occurred. A rare exception was the Lama Senge Norbu who was aware of these changes. He even approved of them. I was told that before one recording session he made the following statement: “I am happy to say that for over thirty years as Master of the Chant I have instructed the monks and I never had a song chanted twice in exactly the same way!” In this instance the Lama’s creativeness, his desire to improvise, led him to produce the songs in various ways. There exists a Tibetan proverb that could be applied to the interpretation of sacred songs as well: “Every district has its own dialect, and every Lama has his own doctrine. “This saying could be paraphrased into: “Every Master of the Chant has his own interpretation and every season, every service, have their own manners of musical performances.”

A comparison of the K, S I, and S II versions in Part II shows the textual changes that can occur. Tibetan song texts of the Buddhist liturgy consist of two basic elements: the tshig, the main (meaningful) syllables which cannot be altered, and the tshiglhad, the extending or linking (meaningless) syllables which can be subject to change. The changes can have a multitude of reasons: they may be caused, in rare instances, by instructions issued by the Master of the Chant, or, more frequently, by bad performing habits, by dialectal phenomena, by unusual ritual requirements which differ from one occasion to another, and so forth. Tibet has a large number of remarkably independent and well-defined dialects which indeed play a considerable role in the changes of textual syllables. The transliterations of these syllables (particularly in Part II) do not represent a pure form of Tibetan, but imitate and reflect this wide range of dialectal phenomena.

During the seventh century, Mahāyāna Buddhism with its large pantheon of Buddhas, Bodhisats, and other deities was introduced in Tibet. By then it had already assimilated tantric features such as the secret mysticism concerning Shiva and his spouse and other male-female associations, the strange symbolism of obscure syllables and spoken or chanted spells as well as the use of ritual objects, mystic drawings, occult mudras, and diverse magic cults. It was a Buddhism, vastly different from the severe Hinayana Buddhism of the South, that came across the great mountains in several stages. The native religion of Tibet, the Bon cult, with its horror deities, sorcerers, and strange sacrifices originally may have hindered the spreading of Buddhism until many of the Bon deities were incorporated into the huge number of deities of Buddhism. These horror deities eventually became the fierce Protectors of Religion. I must add here that the Bon beliefs and practices were never fully obliterated by Buddhism. Despite the fact that the Bon religion was probably not much more than a conglomeration of practices that had little or no linkage among various places in Tibet, it stayed alive throughout the centuries and, although subject to changes, it remained active in several districts up to recent times.

During the tenth and eleventh centuries, Buddhist scriptures were translated into Tibetan, a few monasteries were founded, and gradually a favorable attitude toward Buddhism began to prevail among the Tibetan people. This general attitude was strengthened considerably by the appearance of the great Buddhist reformers. Among the sects formed during this time were the bkah-gdams-pa (Kadam-pa) which about four centuries later became the famous dge-lugs-pa (Gelug-pa) sect, as well as the Kagyu-pa and Sakya-pa sects. During the eleventh and at the beginning of the twelfth centuries Buddhist sects were already grouped into the old unreformed, the semireformed, and the reformed.

Since the yang-yig originated from the Karma-Kagyu-pa, as it was chanted by a Lama of this sect and later by a member of the Sakya-pa sect, a few words about the beginning of these sects may be added. The semireformed Kagyu-pa sect was founded by Marpa of Lho-brag in the eleventh century. Marpa’s teacher was the Indian Nādapa (Tib. : Naro-pa), and Marpa’s disciple was the famous Mila-ras-pa (Milare-pa, 1040-1123), celebrated for his 100,000 songs on the worship of numerous deities. The biographies of Marpa and Milare-pa speak of many battles against demons, of enduring great hardships of climate, of severe ascetic practices, of living in wild caves for many years, and so forth. Much of this is reflected in the rigid and stern teachings of the Kagyu-pa. The secret teachings were always handed down orally and not in written form. The pervading trend toward austerity and renunciation can be observed in numerous aspects of this sect. “The hermit feature of this sect rendered it so unattractive, that several subsects soon arose which dispensed with the necessity for hermitage. Thus appeared the subsects Karma-pa, Di-kung-pa, and Duk-pa (the form dominant in Bhotan), which differ from each other merely in having adopted a different revelation from the Ñiṅ[Nying]-ma. sect as a code of demoniacal worship, and so relaxing the purity of the former Kargyu-pa practice” (Waddell, p. 67).

The Karma-pa sect was founded by Karma-pa Dus gsum mkhyen pa. He was born in 1109, ordained in 1124, and died in 1192. He established the seat of his sect in the newly founded monastery of mtshur-phug (lha-lung), about one day’s journey to the north of Lhasa, beyond Sera. Several abbots of the Karma-pa and of the Sakya-pa sects were in close contact with the Yuan rulers of China. In later periods also the contact between Tibet and China was friendly and of mutual benefit. For instance, the fifth Karma-pa Lama was invited to China by Yung Lo, an emperor of the Ming dynasty. For several centuries the power and influence of the Karma-pa was very strong, but after having been involved in an unsuccessful struggle against the fifth Dalai Lama in 1642, the might of the Karma-pa declined. The Karma-pa sect was not absorbed by its parent sect but remained active. Even after the recent Chinese takover in Tibet a new Karma-pa temple was begun in Sikkim, an area that has been under Karma-pa influence since the time of the fifth Dalai Lama.

It is important to mention here an outstanding person, the third Karma-pa Lama Rang byung rdo rje, who lived from 1284 to 1340. He composed numerous books and songs on tantric matters and exercised such excellent leadership of his sect that the Karma-pa became firmly established and gained considerable authority and power. It is this third Lama that is mentioned a number of times as author of several songs of the yang-yig shown below.

The Sakya-pa sect, which evolved into a powerful body before the Gelug-pa became predominant, was founded in 1071. Its founder was Khon dkon mchog rgyal po who derived his teachings from Indian sages such as Nagarjuna and Vasuputra by combining old and new tantras. He called his doctrine the “New-Old Occult Mystery” or the “Deep Sight,” or the “Fruitful Path.” The Sakya sect, too, eventually produced two reformed subsects which, however, have no relationship to the aim of this book.

In order to complete the brief list of important Tibetan sects, the Nying-ma-pa and Gelug-pa must be mentioned although the yang-yig and the interpretations shown have little relationship to those sects. The Nying-ma-pa sect, the real red-hat sect of Tibet, is the oldest and is unreformed. Its practices still include numerous Bon features and “celibacy and abstinence are rarely practiced” (Waddell, p. 72).

The Gelug-pa sect, the most recent, came into dominant power in 1640 and up to recently was the Tibetan State Church. The Gelug-pa arose from the earlier Kadam-pa sect and achieved its regeneration under Tsong Kha-pa of Amdo in the early fifteenth century. The Gelug-pa were more vigorously active in their endeavour to achieve the ruling power over the country than all other sects. With the support of influential Mongols and Chinese the Gelug-pa achieved their aim in the seventeenth century and forcefully took over several monasteries of the Kagyu and Nying-ma-pa sects and compelled the monastic populations to wear yellow hats. Despite the different dress, despite celibacy, decreased devil-worship and a certain hauteur, the Gelug-pa differ little from the other sects. It would have simplified my study if I had tried to obtain Gelug-pa interpretations of the yang-yig, because many of my Tibetan friends belong to this sect, but the Gelug-pa style represents an indistinct mixture of the K and S styles and does not show clearly the remarkable differences that become manifest if K and S melodies are considered separately. This consideration directed my choice toward the study of the K and S styles in preference to those of the Gelug-pa and Nying-ma-pa.

The notational curves of the yang-yig are written mostly in two, less often in three horizontal lines across the page from left to right. In order to identify them, particularly in the Transcription and Transliteration section of Parts II and III, I have numbered each notational curve (or curve complex) by employing the diagonal slash that is commonly used in fractions. The upper number indicates the line (first, second, occasionally also third) and the lower number, the curve (counted from left to right). For instance, XVII A, 1/2, will mean that reference is made to yang-yig page XVII A and to the second notational curve of the first line. In the case of double curves the upper curve is marked with the letter a, the lower with b.

These curves have more or less the same functions as the neumes of the medieval West. As I have described elsewhere their character, their probable origin and relation to other notational systems–MusicalNotationsoftheOrient (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1967)–I shall confine my observations to the problems of interpretation. Some of the curves or curve-complexes clearly reflect the up-and-down movements of the melody while others appear to denote less melodic movements than brief rhythmical features.

Beside the notational symbols, the yang-yig contains various annotations written beside or above the symbols or between the notational lines. The extended annotations offer information about the name of the song, its author, the meaning of the song and the use of introductory drum beats. Some other annotations characterize the melody by stating that it should move like a flowing river, or that it should resemble the calls of birds, that it should be chanted like the sound of the wind, like the gurgling of flowing water, and so forth. I have numbered the annotations of each page of the yang-yig in order to provide easy identification. In the yang-yig transcriptions the annotations are symbolized by small circled numbers, e. g. , ①. In the Transliteration and Transcription section (Part II, etc. ) each annotation is indicated by, for example, AN1. The reason for this inconsistency is that in the yang-yig there is not always sufficient space for inserting the letters AN and a number in order to indicate an annotation; hence, the device of circling the number has been used. Thus indications such as ① in the yang-yig and the corresponding AN1 in Part II, etc. , have the same significance.

The few annotations of the yang-deb (Part IV) are not specifically marked in the Tibetan text included in this volume, but their locations are indicated in the subsequent translation pages, which will simplify identification.

As a rule, the words of these annotations are not chanted, although it may happen that some of their words appear again as textual syllables in the subsequent songs. Mr. Sakyapa told me that some of the annotations have some religious significance. In addition to the extended annotations, the yang-yig contains several short ones which as already mentioned, are placed in the manuscript next to the notational curves. These annotations describe or characterize the curves by stating that this one is a “needle,” or that one “bends” the voice, that another one shapes the melody or the sound into a thin “thread,” that a “steep descent” has to be made, and so forth. The extended annotations are conveyed to the monks by the Master of the Chant, the dbu-mdzad-pa (from now on: Um-dze-pa) during the frequent rehearsals. Every note and every phrase will be rehearsed according to the Um-dze-pa’s concept until all the monks of the choir are able to chant the song without any mistakes. Once all parts of the song are well known, the entire piece is chanted without any interruptions.

Along with the notational curves and extended and brief annotations, a page of the yang-yig contains all or some of the textual syllables (tshig) of the song. These are placed below the notational curves. As already mentioned, it is necessary to distinguish between the meaningful syllables that generally appear at the beginning of the curves and the meaningless syllables (tshiglhad), which extend the sound of the main syllables by usually alliterating the preceding vowels or, in some instances, consonants. Among the meaningless syllables are those that are derived from Sanskrit and often are difficult to recognize or to reconstruct because in many instances they have been distorted. These phonetics are nevertheless believed to have a secret or sacred character. In manuscripts the meaningful (main) tshig are written in red ink. They must not be altered. Now and then one observes that a few main tshig are written in black. This has no deeper meaning and probably is nothing but an oversight of the scribe. The tshiglhad are always written in black ink.

For technical reasons it was not possible to reproduce in this book the Tibetan manuscripts in the two essential colors, black and red. Therefore the red syllables in the yang-yig have been indicated by dotted circles or ovals: and in the section of Transliteration and Translation by capitalized letters. In the yang-deb (Part IV) all red syllables have been underlined.

The red syllables when recited without the linking tshigihad represent more or less clearly defined verses. When the melody is chanted and all tshig, meaningful and meaningless (red and black), are used, the verses become indistinct or are completely concealed. While an initiated person will easily recognize the main tshig, an outsider will become puzzled by the long lines of syllables which at the first few hearings may or may not convey a meaning. There is very little in the liturgical music of the West that can be compared with this remarkable practice. In order to illustrate it, I shall use here a famous line from the Psalms (ps. 7:10) and treat it in the manner of a Tibetan sacred song. The line chosen is DomineDeusmeus, inTesperavi. Assuming that these words were Tibetan textual syllables, they would be written in red ink in a yang-yig; in our illustration they are shown in capitalized form. The meaningless tshiglhad, which would be placed between the main syllables and written in black in the yang-yig, would appear in lower case in the present illustration. Among various possibilities, the following sequence of tshig and tshigihad could be observed:

DO oh oh oi MI yi ih NE eh e ei DE eh ei US su u ngu ME e ye ei US su uh IN ni yi TE eh ei SPE be eh ei RA ah ya ai VI i yih.

The method of inserting meaningless syllables between the textual main syllables probably had its prototype in the various prescribed interpretations of vedic hymns in India. While the samhita-patha of the vedic chant represents a straight and unchanged succession of the textual syllables, the krama-, jathā-, ghana-,mālā-, ṡikhā-, rekha-, dhavaja-, danda-, and ratha-pāthas imply fixed and more or less elaborate regroupings of the textual syllables whereby the sacred syllables appear in manifold sequences. In the vedic chant the manipulation of the textual syllables could have served to obscure the correct sequence of the sacred syllables, but the above listed methods (krama-pātha, jathā-pātha, etc.) were first of all employed for the artistic regrouping of the syllables in a manner similar to the way a jeweller would pattern precious stones on a golden background, where symmetry and pleasing design would express the deep devotion and reverence of the devotee toward the sacred words.

Tibetan chant does not employ strictly laid out textual patterns and the interpolation of meaningless syllables does not aim at pleasing designs of sacred words. As already indicated the meaningless syllables were employed for one reason only: to obscure the sequence of the sacred main syllables and thus to prevent these important texts from becoming accessible to uninitiated outsiders. As to be expected, in the course of time some of the meaningless syllables that remained unchanged were believed to have some special magic significance.

Similar features can be observed in the camouflaging of sacred texts in the Cabbalah (Kitzursh’lu 17), in the repetitions and permutations (temurah) of the Hebrew letters, in the chanting of the enechamata of the twelfth and thirteenth century Byzantine manuscripts, in the anenaiki of the Znamenny chant and in the noeane of the tenth century.

In the Tibetan chant in some instances the extending tshigihad form a bridge between the vowel sound of the preceding main syllable to that of the next main syllable: JOi i e ah BAi e ei oh CHO o oh ah GA ra oh oi MO. . . . Generally the extending and linking syllables are shaped after the pronunciation of the main syllables and not after their written forms. There are, however, some instances where the written form of the main tshig influences the shape of the subsequent tshiglhad. For instance, the main tshig DNGUL is pronounced ngü, and do in the eastern dialect. This syllable is not followed by ü or o (oi), but by le. Here the tshigihad utilizes the last written letter of the word DNGUL.

It frequently happens that a long curve complex in the song book is provided with only one textual tshig placed below the head of the first curve, although the other subsequent curves of the complex indicate that several textual syllables have to be employed. In these instances the Um-dze-pa will instruct the monks which extensions and linkages to use. If, however, the tshiglhad are distinctly written down within (or below) a single curve, it means that more than one note is to be chanted to obligatory syllables. For instance:

The use of red and black syllables can also be observed in the textbook (yang-deb) shown in Part IV. In its several chanted sections red and black syllables represent main tshig and tshigihad respectively. Whenever there are entire pages or extended sections written in black ink the chanting stops and the words, not at all meaningless, are recited in a rhythmic manner. In such pages there may appear here and there a few words written in red ink. In such instances these words are not chanted but are considered to have special sacred character. They generally represent the names of deities and similar features that are treated with great reverence.

In some vedic manuscripts of India the scribes have employed a similar method using black and red ink. This method is indeed only similar to and by no means identical with the Tibetan practice. It nevertheless can be assumed that the use of black and red inks in writing sacred texts had its origin in India and eventually assumed its unique and peculiar significance in Tibet.

The yang-yig (Part II) shows that notational curves and textual syllables are not always notated in their entirety. This practice too, has a vague relationship with that of the writing of the vedic texts in India. Martin Haug (“Ueber das Wesen und den Werth des Wedischen Accents,” AkademiederWissenschaften, Philosophisch-HistorischeKlasse, 13 [Munich, 1873]: 17) states that “in welch’ hohem Grade indess die schriftliche Aufzeichnung wedischer Texte den Brahmanen zuwider war und eigentlich fuer ein ganz gottloses Geschäft galt, geht mit Sicherheit aus einer Stelle des Mahabharata hervor, wonach der Schreiber, Verkäufer und Verderber des Weda (d. i. die ihn in verderbter Gestalt überliefern) in die Holle kommen (Anuśāsanaparva V. 1645). . . Aber trotz dem Vorhandenseins von Handschriften dürfen auch jetzt noch die Brahmanen den Weda nie von einem Manuscript lernen, sondern nur aus dem Munde des Lehrers. . .” In Tibetan song books the omission of some notational and textual matters is no sign of carelessness on the part of the scribe because the book serves as a mnemonic aid to the Um-dze-pa and thus need not contain every musical and textual detail. Some omissions of syllables can be caused by the scribe’s desire to be brief and to avoid unnecessary repetitions of textual lines that are so well known that they need not be recorded in writing. For instance, the main tshig of a strophe may have a distinct meaning. This strophe, however, may be followed by one word that does not fit into the adjoining textual matter. I eventually discovered that this last word is not a tshigihad but is the last meaningful word of another not notated strophe that in actual performance would follow the preceding notated strophe. There are other omissions of words that point toward the use of secret mantras, magic spells, and other mystic formulas that are purposely deleted in the manuscript. At his initiation a novice is given by his guide one mantra that is directed at a particular deity and is believed to possess a compelling influence that cannot be resisted. This information has to be kept secret and will remain an important feature in the novice’s life. There are mantras that are only mumbled or recited; others known to larger groups of monks may be chanted in the assembly hall. It is of interest to observe the presentation of a mantra when the devotee (or a group of monks) begins chanting in a subdued and humble manner, interrupting the magic syllables with numerous words of praise of the deity. Gradually the attitude of the devotee changes and eventually the mantra is recited or chanted in a commanding and angry tone and the words of praise are replaced by a few tshigihad. The voice becomes louder and threatening, which shows that the devotee is convinced that the deity addressed is compelled to comply with orders given him. The notated texts and melodies do not show this change of attitude, and if a group of monks is chanting, the tone changes very little. While there is little mantra material in the yang-yig (song 9, for instance, is a mantra) the text of the following recited invocation may illustrate the form of an extended mantra. It employs all letters of the Tibetan alphabet and is called the “Invoking of The Blessing of Eloquence,” a mantrayana rite instituted by the great saint Khyung-po [Sanskrit: Garuda, Puna, or Brika]. I go for refuge to the Three Holy Ones! May I attain perfection and benefit the animal beings. The one who brought me to the light is at the tip of my tongue and the white Оm made up of the words is above the moon: the white Ali (vowels) go by the right circle, the red Ka-li (consonants) go by the left and the blue ktan[sic]-sñing by the right. I repeat them secretly after deep contemplation. Оm! a, ā, i, ī, u, ū, ri, ṛī, li, lī, e, ai, о, ou, aṇgah swaḥa! (This is to be repeated thrice). Om! ka, kha, ga, na (and here follow all the letters of the alphabet). . . By repeating the above one attains accomplishment in speech” (Waddell, p. 176).

There are tshig, more or less hidden among the tshiglhad, that represent the names of deities. The syllables appear in scattered form among the tshigihad For example, page XVI A (in 1/9, 1/10, 1/11, and 1/12) is the line: dammacannaskyesbu. The main tshig are: Damcanskyesbu. They represent Bon deities, the ancient commanders of the wild demons who eventually were subdued and, “bound by oath,” became Protectors of Religion (Buddhism). With their horrible appearances they are awe-inspiring to all faithful Tibetans. Other scatterings of names of deities can be observed, for instance, in XXXIX Α 2/7-2/10, where the name Mahākāla is used, or in XXXVI A 2/4-2/6, where bchomdamthubpa, one of the Tibetan names of the Buddha, is found. Even less important tshig can be hidden among meaningless syllables as will be shown below. This reflects not only a wish to keep the sacred words hidden but the belief that all main tshig are important and have magic power.

The yang-yig under consideration contains little that points toward the use of musical instruments. There are a few annotations which refer to drum (and cymbal) beats and some interpunctuation signs which imply percussive features of the characteristic click-sequences that represent the ends of sections or, occasionally, of songs. In literary works punctuation is indicated by single, double, and quadruple vertical strokes in the textual lines (as in Sanskrit writings). In the yang-yig only two forms of interpunctuation are employed: the sbrudçad (lit., “snake punctuation,” from now on called çad) and the rinchenspungsçad (lit., “precious piled-up punctuation,” from now on called ornamented çad). In the yang-yig the former signifies a temporary stop, the end of a section or verse, the emphasis following an exclamation, while the latter is used to inform the reader that the pages listed below do not represent the beginning of new songs but the continuation of songs begun earlier, on previous pages. The ornamented çad appears in the upper left-hand corners of pages I B, II A, III A, IV A, V A, VI A, VII A, VIII A, XI A, XII A, XV A, XVIII A, XIX A, XXII A, XXVI А, XXXIV А, and XXXV Α.

The çad appears frequently, and the K interpret it by a long note that usually ends with a “cadential” downward glide, together with a series of gently beaten strokes on the cymbals which begin slowly and increase rapidly in tempo in the following manner:

While the strokes increase in tempo, their dynamic intensity diminishes until they become inaudible.

The S, however, do not use this interpretation of verse and section endings, but they do observe the temporary halt by performing a short Luftpause. The end of a song is indicated by the sign which in the K interpretation requires a heavy beat on the drum (rnga) that is followed by a forceful clash of the cymbals.

Immediately below the textual syllables appear the gcig (hereafter chig), which is the Tibetan numeral 1. Chig means also “one and the same,” or “at the same time,” or “one at a time,” and refers to a single or subdivided beat performed by the K on the drum. Generally this beat is followed almost immediately by a light gentle stroke of the cymbals. These beats do not represent a regular pulse. Despite the frequently offered opinions that all Tibetan religious songs are performed by the monks in strict meter and rhythm, the tapes in my possession and my own experience of hearing numerous chants in Gyantse and in several other monasteries contradict this belief. Indeed, a certain vague rhythm can be observed because a large group of monks would be unable to chant freely in unison, but in many instances the rhythm is so indistinct that it is hardly more than a sequence of accents that the spoken language provides. Occasionally strict metrical phenomena do occur; they can be noticed in songs in which the text deals with power and fear. But whenever the text has a peaceful character or whenever a prayer is chanted begging for increase in prosperity and blessings, metrical and rhythmical strictness disappear. A large number of Tibetan chants proceed rhythmically in a manner similar to that of the plainsong of the Roman Catholic Church. With a few minor modifications, taking into account the characteristics and vague accents of the Tibetan language, the description of plainsong rhythm as given in the LiberUsualis (1961; p. xxx) can be applied to the Buddhist chant of Tibet as well. A comparison of rhythmic conditions of the K and S interpretations (see Part II) shows that the former are comparatively free while the latter show some degree of rhythmic organization. The small bar lines I have used in the K transcription show all those notes that are represented by individual curves or curve-complexes. They are not intended to indicate distinct metrical or rhythmical features.

During the numerous rehearsals with the monks the Umdze-pa, the only person who uses the yang-yig, will not always have available drum and cymbals. Hence he will use any adequate object for clicking off the beats. This is reminiscent of the music teacher in the West who clicks his pencil against a table in order to remind the pupil of the correct meter, tempo, and, if necessary, rhythm. As already mentioned, whenever a verse or section of a song comes to an end, the Um-dze-pa of the K or one of his assistants, a skad-bsang-pa (lit., “good voice”; henceforth Ge-sang-pa) will beat the brief sequences of clicks which begin slowly and gradually increase in tempo.

In a number of instances two chig (one black, one red) are placed below the same textual syllable. This happens usually at the end of a section, rarely at the end of a song, where the obligatory drum-cymbal feature (single forceful strokes) is obligatory. While each black chig indicates one single drum beat, the red chig implies the following cymbal clash. Occasionally the sequence of black and red chig can be found at other places of the song than at the end of sections. In such instances the textual syllables are of particular importance and have to be marked by these special drum-cymbal strokes.

As will be seen in the K transcriptions of the songs (Part II), there are a few instances when the second (red) chig is interpreted in the same manner as a çad, that is by a sequence of several clicks.

Many of the extended annotations (marked with AN) contain instructions about drum beats. For instance, on manuscript page XVIII A (AN 1, song 31) is the phrase rngagsumbrdungḥthing which, literally translated, means “drum three strike(s) draw out.” The Tibetan numerals on that page, “1, 2, 3, 3,” mean that the drum (and cymbals) are struck three times; then the third beat is repeated in the form of a drawn-out roll:

If there were no repetition of the last number of the sced below each half note represent tequence of numerals, as for instance in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, it would mean that drum and cymbals are struck five times, and that the fifth beat is not prolonged at all:

Nearly all annotations prescribe specified numbers of introductory drum beats before the songs begin. For instance, on manuscript page IB (AN 1) appears rngagnyisbrdungçintudalba, which means that the drum has to be struck twice in slow tempo before the song begins. Or on manuscript page XIV В (AN 1) the following is stated: rngasum [gsum] brdungḥdsagmedbya, which means that the drum performs three beats, not “drippingly” (dripping or dwindling away in an irregular manner) but steadily (without interruptions). With these introductory beats, which usually begin pianissimo and gradually become louder, the appropriate tempo of the song is established and conveyed to the chanting monks. Almost all songs begin with a few notes (and syllables) in strict meter and tempo. After this rhythmically strict beginning, the K melody very frequently assumes a rhythmically much less distinct form.

It may be of some interest to mention here an entirely different interpretation of the drum beats mentioned in these annotations. More than thirty years ago I acquired in Hemis (Ladakh) a few sheets of a beautifully written yang-yig which, at the time, I was unable to decipher. Fortunately I had the privilege of meeting a high-ranking Lama who was visiting the monastery. He had come from Central Tibet and as he spoke Hindi fluently, I was able to consult with him. He translated and explained to me the first few pages of the yang-yig and told me that the prescribed drum beats in the annotations do not refer to introductory beats but signify the drum beats of the first line or section of the song. For many years I had accepted this information as the only authoritative one until I had the opportunity of examining complete yang-yigs. Then it became evident that the opening lines or sections of songs could not possibly have the number of drum beats prescribed in the annotations. In the yang-yig under consideration there are some exceptions when the number of prescribed beats in the annotations tallies well with that of the first line of the song, but these instances are rare and the great majority of annotations and beginnings of songs prove that the prescribed drum beats must be introductory and are performed before the actual chanting begins. In Part II a few instances are noted where the prescribed beats appear in the first line of the song. Two examples may suffice: song 21, manuscript page XIII Β, AN 1, states that dgubrdung(nine beats) are to be performed and when examining my K transcription of the curves 2/1–2/9 one finds indeed:

The short vertical strokes placed below each half note represent the audible clicks. 2/10 is provided with a single click (being a single note in the measure) and 2/11 (not shown here) with scattered clicks. Both 2/10 and 2/11 are outside the prescribed sequence of nine beats. Another example may be found in song 23, manuscript page XIV B, AN1, where three beats are prescribed:

This sequence (XIV В 1/1–1/3) is followed in 1/4 by one chig and a çad;both are outside the prescribed series.

The Lama’s explanation of the prescribed beats did and still does sound plausible. As there are several songs that show the specified number of beats prescribed in the annotations, I shall call this manner of performance the “Hemis style” although it has little to do with the Hemis monastery, except that I met the Lama there.

On the other hand, there are two important reasons that speak against this Hemis style and they are equally or more convincing than the explanation of the Hemis Lama. The first reason is, that without a few introductory drum beats to indicate meter and tempo the chanting of a large group of monks, each in his own meter and tempo, would be more than bewildering. Not even in the poorest and most neglected monastery would such confusion be tolerated. The second reason, still more plausible than the first, is that in the vast majority of songs of the yang-yig under consideration and of other, similar yang-yigs, the numbers of beats indicated in the annotations do not at all tally with the notated chig of the first lines of the songs. I shall mention only one example although dozens could be given: song 22 on manuscript page XIV, 1/1-1/6; AN1 prescribes dgubrdung (nine beats) while the beginning of the song (1/1-1/6) has six beats. 1/7 represents a brief stop and a scattered-beats feature which cannot be counted as part of the series.

Drum beats introducing performances of groups (singers, dancers) can be found frequently. For instance in the Chinese Classics (LiChi, YüehChi, II, 24) it is related that the music (of King Wu) begins with the beating of drums in order to prepare the performers.

Although Bon priests as well as Buddhist monks may have used the same chant material up to recent times, there are differences in its interpretation and “there are specific manifestations of religious utterance which, when heard, can be instantly recognized as belonging, in intention and content, to one or the other of the two religions” (Ekvall, p. 27). Similar differences exist between the various sects of the Tibetan Buddhists and can be observed in the severely limited tone-material of the K songs and the more extended range of the S melodies. For instance, certain ornaments, particularly the khab (“needle”; see Part III, #12) are interpreted very differently by the K and S sects. The same applies to the rtsing (“rough voice”) which is interpreted in different ways. These and other features concerning interpretation are considered below.

The different types of voice production that are characteristic of the various sects are of interest. While the K tend to chant unusually low bass notes, often in the rough “roaring” style, the S as a rule prefer higher notes chanted in a slightly nasal manner. The Gelug-pa employ a smaller number of extending and linking tshigihad than the K, although, like the K, they usually chant in a very low bass register.

The Tibetan term for melody and song is dbyangs. The honorific term for glu (song) is mgur or mgurma (hymn, chant). This latter term would be appropriate for each item contained in the yang-yig. There are several words in Tibetan that imply chanting. The most remarkable one is the verb ḥthen-pa, “to draw out,” which indicates an extending of the notational curve and a “drawing out” of the melody by adding to the melodic line a higher pitched note. The “drawing out” does not extend the duration of the note. In addition to dbyangs (melody, song) the terms gdangs and rolgsum are sometimes used. Gdangs can mean music and melody in general or the act of chanting in particular. Rolgsum, the “three rol,” refers to instrumental music. The three rol imply wind instruments, drums, and at least one pair of cymbals. Rolgsum is also used to indicate cymbals alone, usually discs with large central bosses. The term rolmo stands for cymbals and musical instruments in general, for music making, and also simply for music.

If the chanting is “slow and dark” but has some rhythmical character, it is called ḥdurma (“thick”). If the chanting assumes the character of a quick parlando, it is called bshurma (“strained,” “filtered”). If the song has a melancholy, sad nature and is performed free of any noticeable rhythmic features, it is called skyorgdangs (“recited chanting,” “repeated chanting”). Voice timbres are called by various names which change from one place and sect to another. A frequently used term of the S is stagmaḥingarskad, “the roar of the tigress,” which means a rough, low sound. When performed by a large group of chanting monks, it is indeed a fearful and awe-inspiring sound. Mgrindbyangs (“throat singing”) also means rough and throaty sounds if they are prolonged notes or represent changes of pitch and timbre. As already mentioned before, in some instances the rough voice production is specified in the yang-yig by the word rtsing. In other instances, however, the change of vocal timbre is a matter of tradition and is not indicated in notated music.

Before turning to the consideration of the yang-yig a few words should be said about the instrumental music of Tibetan monasteries, by no means to offer a complete picture, but to round off this limited survey of liturgical music in general. The yang-yig under consideration does not contain any clear indications concerning instrumental preludes and interludes to be performed before and between the songs.

In every large Tibetan monastery numerous musical instruments were kept, some of them to be used regularly at religious services, others to be employed at semisecular occasions. The monasteries also preserved special gowns for the dancers, masks, and other accoutrements needed in the religious dance performances. The normal instrumental ensemble of the ritual consisted only of wind and percussion instruments. Although Tibet possessed several string instruments they were not employed in sacred music.

In recent years I had the opportunity of hearing a number of commercial recordings made of Tibetan music. These recordings proved that there was indeed well-performed music in efficiently directed monasteries, but there was also badly-performed music, mostly in places where matters of general and musical discipline were severely neglected.

Probably the most impressive instruments of the monastery orchestra are the rag-dung (“brass tube,” also dung-chen, “big tube”), long straight tubes made of copper and brass, with a slightly conical bore, and structured like telescopes, in sections that can be pushed together when the instrument is not in use, and widening toward the gently flaring bell. Because of the conical bore the instruments can be classified among the straight horns although several writers describe them as trumpets, probably being reminded by their unusual lengths of the straight long herald’s trumpets of the medieval West. The rag-dung, which are always used in pairs, are made of three copper sections linked by ornamented brass rings and, as already mentioned, the two narrow sections can be pushed into the largest. The bell of the rag-dung is usually richly decorated with stylized lotus leaves and similar ornaments, while the copper tubes are plain and smoothly polished. These horns when pulled to their full lengths vary in size; the longest may measure as much as twelve feet (some persons report that they have seen still longer ones). The ones in my possession measure six and a half feet each and produce very deep, rumbling bass notes. The basic pitches vary from one size to the other, but the pitches of each pair of rag-dung are supposed to be identical. Pairs of rag-dung that are not well tuned may be found in carelessly directed monasteries. I remember having heard one pair where one instrument produced a low B, the other a low Bb, and when they were played together nobody bothered about the discrepancy. The two horns are played alternately; when one player is out of breath the other will continue and thus a somewhat wavy but more or less uninterrupted drone is produced which may be the “tonic” of the instrumental pieces. Frequently, however, any very low pitch is acceptable irrespective of its relation to the tone material of the melody. The rag-dung drone is primarily of ritual nature, representing fearful, rumbling, and threatening sounds related to the terror deities while its purely musical function is of lesser importance.

On festive occasions the rag-dung were taken up to the flat roof of the main building of the monastery from where the uninterrupted bass notes could be heard far out into the country. These occasions were usually the arrivals or departures of important Lamas. The rag-dung were also blown at the roof at fixed times of the day or season. Their sound would wake the monks in the early morning, announce the beginning of religious services in the temple, and also convey the times of sunrise, noon, and sunset.

The long metal tube with conical bore had its origin in India. The Brahmins regard it as the oldest musical instrument of the world (acc. to Sachs, MusikinstrumenteIndiensundIndonesiens, Berlin, 1923; p. 170). From India the instrument moved to the West (Greece), to the North (Nepal, Tibet), and to the East (China, Korea). In all these areas it had ritual or ceremonial functions. In India a pair of these metal tubes was blown in alternation without interruption from the moment of the death of a Sudra member up to the end of the burial ceremonies.

A rag-dung student has to learn and practice to produce three different sounds on the instrument: a soft sound, a “distant” and mellow bass note (basic pitch); a rough, roaring sound (basic pitch); and a harmonic of the basic note (octave or fifth, not always clear). The rough and roaring sound generally indicates the end of a strophe or section of a song. Usually the rag-dung are not employed during the chanting, but produce a sudden roar when the song ends. The harmonic note, used rarely, occurs only in instrumental pieces, while the soft, mellow sound can appear occasionally when the monks are chanting. The rag-dung notes are not notated, and the pupil has to learn from his master which of the three sounds is to be used and at what times. The rag-dung players are first trained within the monastery. The teachers of this instrument (and of the rgya-gling which will be mentioned below) are not under the jurisdiction of the Um-dze-pa. They are Lamas who in summer take their pupils away from the compound of the monastery and move up in the mountains or groves where the noise of practicing creates little disturbance. Outside in the open the rag-dung pupil is shown how to produce long held notes that link smoothly with the sound of the second instrument in such a manner that a listener perceives only one more or less uninterrupted sound. The roaring sounds are also practiced. One can hear the deep roaring sound and a second, that roars on a harmonic. By the end of the summer when teacher and pupils return to the monastery some pupil may be given the opportunity to play in an actual performance. It is needless to say that perfection in such performances is not always attained.

The drum of Tibetan liturgical music, the chosrnga (“religious drum”) appears in two forms. In large ensembles it has barrel form and is suspended from a wooden frame, a type that had its origin in China (the Confucian Classics frequently mention these remarkable wooden frames from which are suspended stone slabs, bells, or drums). A second form, more frequently employed, has a flat cylindrical corpus and two drum heads. The corpus is pierced by a heavy wooden stick that enables the monk to carry the instrument. Both types of rnga are beaten by the rnga-dbyug, curved and slightly flexible drumsticks.

Another Tibetan drum is the todrnga (skull drum), the Indian damaru. It has the shape of an hourglass and is made of two human skull bones or of wood (rngachun). Two strings with weighted ends are attached to the corpus which when shaken produces a rattling sound that is believed to frighten evil spirits (teḥu). The small drum has no musical function as such. It can be used during the religious dances held outdoors and in certain performances of exorcism. In the temple it is used only by the presiding abbot who shakes the drum at certain ritual moments during the religious service. It is not a part of the instrumental ensemble of the monastery.

Other instruments of the ensemble are the sbug-shal or sbom-shal, and the sil-snyan, cymbals of various shapes and sizes. Sbug means “hollow,” shal means “mouth,” “to gape,” sbom means “heavy,” or “thick,” sil means “a little piece,” “a fragment of something,” and snyan means “to sound pleasantly or softly.” The sbug-shal, often simply called bug or bog are large narrow rimmed brass disks with unusually large central bosses. The sil-snyan, also called sil-sil, are broad rimmed disks with small central bosses. The cymbals are held by means of thick cloth strips mounted in the apex of the central bosses. The bug are held vertically and are struck vigorously at the utterance of certain words or at certain occasions (e. g. , mchodyon and shabsgsil). The sil-snyan are held horizontally and are struck gently. It is possible that the sil-snyan have some relationship to the biblical ṣelṣlim, described as ṣelṣlešāma’ and ṣelṣletrūa’ (clear and harsh sounding cymbals). The root zil can be found in terms used by the Turks and Kurds for cymbals and bells, and there is an Arabic verb ṣalāl’ meaning “to clash.” The sil-snyan are usually struck in alternation with the rnga. The bug, however, are used as a representation of a divine voice and may be sounded at points determined by ritual rather than musical considerations.

As already stated, the general term for music is rol-mo, a term which is also applied to the large cymbals. In K monasteries pairs of small cymbals are used for various purposes including that of clicking the chigs. These small disks are called tingshags; ting, meaning “cup,” indicates the size of the instrument and shags, which actually means a “leash,” or “rope with a noose,” denotes the magic significance of the disks (they are cup-shaped “catchers of evil spirits”). While the members of K use the ting-shags, the S do not.

In addition to the drums and cymbals there are a few other percussion instruments which are not part of the musical ensemble of the monastery. For instance the tulip-shaped handbell, the dril-bu (“bell”) is always used together with the “thunderbolt,” the rdo-rje, by the officiating Lama. The dril-bu has no musical function and serves only in the ritual movements of the Lama.

Among the smaller wind instruments, the dbang-dung (lit., “powerful tube”), a small copper or brass trumpet that is used in various acts of consecration, should be mentioned. The trumpet is about one and a half to two feet long and produces a single penetratingly high note. The dung-dkar (lit., “white tube”), a conch horn of Indian origin that comes in various sizes can be found occasionally. This instrument is employed in ceremonies dealing with death and funerals, and sometimes it is also used for signalling. Musically it is of little importance. Of some interest is the rkang-dung (“bone tube”), a simple trumpet made of a human thigh-bone. In the making of this instrument the thigh-bones of criminals were preferred. It was also in use in the ancient Bon ritual during invocations of deities and demons. In Tibetan Buddhist service it is excluded from the regular performances, but it may appear now and then in special ceremonies for ritual purposes. Tibetans also use some instruments made of ram’s horn for exorcisms; these horns never appear in the temple. Of similar character are high-pitched pipes made of human or tiger bones, the rkang-gling and stag-gling. None of these instruments has any musical function. The underlying thought is that each of these nonmusical instruments represents the voice of a deity or appeals to a certain god or demon; it has been found advisable to honor every deity by sounding these instruments during religious performances. When the sounds of these ritualistic instruments are superimposed on instrumental music, the resulting noise can be most perplexing.

The melody instrument of the instrumental ensemble of the temple is the ryga-gling (“Indian pipe”), a heterophonic double-reed instrument. This oboe of Tibet is used in pairs in the temple and is used singly in secular music. It belongs in the large oboe-type family represented by the Persian-Indian sanayi (shahnai, sharna, surna) that is not only found to the south and west of the Himalayas but also in continental East and Southeast Asia. The Persian name surna probably changed into the Indian sanayi. In China is found a so-na, and outside the Asian continent, in Greece, there is the zurna, in Albania the zurne, and so forth. Curt Sachs states in his DieMusikinstrumenteIndiensundIndonesiens (Leipzig, 1923, pp. 154-55), “Mit ihrem Zurna haben die Perser einen Instrumententypus geschaffen, dessen Missionskraft noch energischer gewesen ist als die des Quoran und des Krummsaebels. Alles Land von den Kuesten des Atlantischen Ozeans bis hinueber zu denen des Stillen has es sich unterworfen.” A characteristic of this instrument is that it has a detachable bell made of metal, a wooden, slightly conically shaped tube, and a mouthpiece that is linked with the tube through a small, round metal disk which the player places his lips against. The small double reeds are inserted entirely into the performer’s mouth, preventing the lips from influencing the vibrating reeds and therefore causing the instrument to produce a harsh sound. The number of finger-holes in the tube varies between seven and eight; one hole is placed at the lower side of the instrument. While the timbre and intensity of the sound cannot be altered, the pitches produced are of an astonishing variety. The finger-holes are placed at equal distances and produce a scale vaguely resembling the western diatonic form. From a western point of view the sounds are somewhat out of tune. They can be modified by various methods of fingering whereby semitones and smaller intervals can be produced. The sound of the rgya-gling has a penetrating, bleating quality and this peculiar character makes it clearly audible even if all other wind and percussion instruments perform fortissimo. The playing technique of this instrument invites the use of numerous ornaments, trills, glides and other gamakas. The rgya-gling player stands in high esteem and he usually impresses his listeners with his exceedingly florid style which is in strange contrast to the heavy sounds of the rag-dung, the piercing notes of the trumpets, and the ponderous beats of the percussion instruments. The rgya-gling ornamentations are not at all rejected by the Lama and monks responsible for the instrumental performances; they are particularly admired when the ensemble is called upon to play for the religious dances performed outside the temple.

In contrast to the dignified and slow moving chant based either on the anhemitonic pentatonic scale or on the three notes that show a relationship to the vedic chant of India, the Tibetan instrumental style, particularly that of the rgya-gling, is prevalent in monasteries located near the southern and southwestern borders. Like the rgya-gling itself the style is of foreign, probably Persian or Indian origin.

As stated before the rgya-gling students are trained by their Lama teachers and have to practice outdoors during the summer. None of the teachers and students are under the supervision of the Um-dze-pa and thus a remarkable freedom of style in the rgya-gling melodies can be observed. Vocal and instrumental music are very far apart. The dignified chant represents one realm, the more or less popular instrumental items quite another. This absence of stylistic unity between chant and instrumental music, fascinating as it is, has several causes. Instrumental music, the music of the semireligious dances, has a popular tinge, the chant has none: the Um-dze-pa is a serious and stern musician who does not exercize any unifying control on the instrumental pieces; the rgya-gling players, although monks, desire to impress their listeners with their bewildering and florid tunes; and, mainly, Tibet has no notational system that enables a player to notate those melodies. Indeed, there are a few symbols that indicate percussive features and certain ritual sounds, such as that of the dung-chen, but, as far as I know, and I have searched for over forty years, there is no system that enables a person to notate distinctly an instrumental melody, particularly a tune of the rgya-gling.

The instrumental items of the Buddhist liturgy originally were outdoor features. In recent times, perhaps during the last century, instrumental music has been performed inside the assembly halls of the monasteries. It appears that nobody can remember when this gradual change occurred.

The many rgya-gling melodies, each usually not longer than three or four “measures,” are identified by names or numbers. If a certain tune is to be used, the directing Lama (not the Um-dze-pa) will announce its name or, more frequently, its number. These tunes vary from one monastery to the other, and even from one teacher to the other. As they are not notated and are not available to researchers in written form they elude serious study. These tunes are the property of the individual rgya-gling teacher who may change his repertoire as and when he sees fit.

The formal organization of the musical items (vocal and instrumental) varies; in some instances it is vague, in others quite distinct. I am obliged to Professor Thubten J. Norbu for permitting me to use some of his recordings that originated in the chossdebyang (“North Monastery”) of Sakya (Sa-skya). The vocal sections of this S performance, as to be expected, show the underlying five-tone material. The sequence of vocal and instrumental items of this performance is as follows:

1.Instrumental Prelude

The cymbals begin and immediately after they have started the rag-dung begin playing their drone. Then both of the rgya-gling (or the trumpets in some instances) begin a fanfare-like sequence that consists of repeated notes in an increasing tempo that leads to long held notes with or without embellishing ornaments or trills. This concludes the first section: its end overlaps with the beginning of the second part.

The first section is a free phantasy that shows no metrical features at all. The cymbals generally play extended rolls and do not stress any particular beats. The “fanfares” can be played on the same note or one of the players may change the pitch up by a second or even a third. In all instances the fanfares return with their last notes to the starting point. If the sequences begin with the note F, the note F may be repeated, or may be followed by Ab, A, Ab, and F. In other instances only F Gb F are heard.

2.Chant

With the last sound of the instrumental ensemble the chosrnga begins its introductory beats in strict common meter. After the prescribed number of beats have been performed the Um-dze-pa intones the first few notes of the chant. His melody is joined in unison by the Ge-sang-pa who transmit the right pitches to the monks who, of course, are already acquainted with the song. Within a few seconds, the entire group of monks is chanting. The rag-dung are silent during this section. The use or omission of the rag-dung here is a matter of tradition. There are numerous monasteries that up to recently favored the drone sound below the chanting voices, but the proper procedure is to omit the drone while the chant is being performed. The following example illustrates the second section:

This section is repeated several times; in some instances there are more, in others fewer repetitions, the number of which is determined by the textual lines. This vocal section is followed by another instrumental piece:

3.Instrumental Interlude.

The first part of this section is identical with the Prelude. It begins with the cymbal roll, it has the same drone note, and the rgya-gling perform their fanfares and sustained notes and trills. This part is followed by a second which is different. It consists of a repeated short passage in strict common meter, in contrast to the first part which is rhythmically free. This passage is played by the rgya-gling and is accompanied by the cymbals. The chosrnga is silent during this section. The rgya-gling passage is:

This brief passage (which may be different at another performance) is followed by a third part that is identical with the first part of this section. This is followed by a fourth part consisting again of the brief rgya-gling passage stated above in strict common meter and followed once more by the cymbal roll, fanfare, and trills. When the instrumental ensemble stops playing with the end of the fourth part the chanting begins again.

4.Chant.

The chant follows section three without any interruption. Again, the last sounds of the instrumental ensemble dovetail with the first beat of the drum. The melody chanted is the same as that of section two. This is followed, without any interruption, by another instrumental interlude.

5.Instrumental Interlude.

This interlude is the same as the one described in the third section although there may be a few deviations from the previously stated pattern. This interlude is not followed by the chant but by a brief end piece.

6.End piece.

The end piece is performed by the two rgya-gling and is accompanied by the cymbals. The chosrnga is silent. The rgya-gling melody is different from that shown in section three:

The tempo of the rgya-gling melodies of sections three, five and six is =72 (approximately), a little faster than that of the chanting.

The end piece is concluded by the long held notes of the two rgya-gling with or without trills. Then the entire piece, that is all six sections, is repeated as often as required.

Although in practice there were few differences in the various performances, occasionally some could be observed which point to two types of liturgical musical performance. As has been shown before, one type consists of an alternation between instrumental and chanted items in which even the chanted sections appear in strict meter and manifest a more or less popular character. The other type, without instrumental items, consists of sequences of songs alternating with recited prayers (see Part IV) which are spoken in strict common meter. In some instances these spoken sections are chanted as well and the metrical shape of these items places them among the “popular” sections. The texts of these pieces are simple verses in which the words usually are more distorted by local dialects than those of the other songs. The melodies are made up of repeated measures grouped into four-measure lines. The following is part of an S hymn which belongs in this category. Each line is repeated several times:

Similar simple melodies may also appear in the K services. In contrast to the other solemn songs of the yang-yig the “popular” songs are not notated. This can be observed in the yang-yig song 1, II B, where such an item has been added to the song. The tape recording shows this feature; the notation of the song book does not.

Some of these pieces show a greater elaboration than the ones described before. In HistoryofMusicinSound, vol. 1, recorded on RCA Victor LM-6057, side 2, a “Hymn to Amitabha” is presented that may serve as an available example. The tone-material is anhemitonic pentatonic and the melody is in strict common meter. The meter is indicated by the use of a bell and a clapper. If this hymn were chanted by a large group in a monastery one could expect to hear instead of bell and clapper the drum with or without cymbals. The percussive accompaniment of all these hymn types appears in patterns such as:

Ingenious drum and cymbal players can and do create new patterns because in this type of music there are no rigid rules. The drums (in large monasteries there are more than one) occur in different sizes and, as already mentioned, are beaten with curved sticks. It is remarkable that the elaborate drumming techniques of India had no influence upon Tibetan drumming. The serious Indian mrdanga player or the tablaji would use his hands, indeed the most refined “drum-sticks” imaginable, while the Tibetan player confines himself to the use of sticks.

When searching for instances of “popular” tunes in the sacred music of the West one would have to consider the simple monophonie hymn-or thirteenth-century laude-types that were popular with the people inside and outside the church.

The practical application of the yang-yig varies from one monastery to the other. In large and well-organized monasteries no yang-yig can be used during the religious service. Everything has to be memorized. In smaller and less well directed monasteries the songbook is placed in front of the Um-dze-pa during the service. In all monasteries, large and small, the monks have to chant from memory. When they perform they are seated in two (or more) long parallel rows facing each other. At the beginning of the musical service which had been prepared by numerous rehearsals in large monasteries and by few rehearsals in small places, the Master of the Chant grasps the cymbals and holds them horizontally until the proctors have made sure that all monks are present and that there is quiet in the hall. The Um-dze-pa is the only person who uses the big cymbals. The lower, with the opening facing upward is held rigidly. The upper with its opening facing downward is rotated or “trembled” in a fast shaking motion against the rim of the lower disk in such a manner that the frequent touchings of the two rims produce a sound similar to a cymbal roll. This roll ends after two or three seconds with a loud clash when both disks are forcefully struck against each other. The clash is followed almost immediately by a loud and heavy beat against the large drum performed by the helpers of the Um-dze-pa. There is little doubt that cymbal clash and drum beat are intended to be simultaneous because in subsequent repetitions of this feature cymbal clash and drum stroke prove this. It is only at the beginning that the two are slightly apart:

After this opening which may be repeated a third time, the drum begins softly to perform the prescribed number of introductory beats as indicated in the annotations of the yang-yig. The tempo of these introductory beats is slow and dignified and can be regulated by gentle cymbal strokes performed by the Um-dze-pa. If the drummer beats too fast the cymbal sounds will correct the tempo to the exact tempo required. When the introductory beats are completed the Um-dze-pa chants the first few notes of the song. Then, as already mentioned, the Ge-sang-pa group that surrounds the Um-dze-pa will transmit the required notes to the monks who gradually join the chanting. With this the drum is beaten in a more or less regular rhythm although there are numerous instances when the drum is beaten freely, merely following the notes of the melody and not indicating a strict pulse. The number of the Ge-sang-pa varies from one monastery to the other. In Kum-bum for instance, where there were three-thousand monks, the Um-dze-pa had sixty Ge-sang-pa as helpers.

The abbot is seated on a high podium and presides over the entire performance. In his left hand he holds a high-pitched dril-bu (hand-bell) and in his right a damaru. As already mentioned these two instruments are not part of the instrumental ensemble but are used for ritual purposes only.

At the end of the song several drum beats are performed in quick succession. They warn the chanting monks that the song is coming to a close. The actual end of the song (indicated in the yang-yig by the symbol ) is represented by one resounding cymbal clash together with one emphatic drum beat.