Extrait d'un documentaire sur la voix , réalisé vers 1994 .
samedi 24 janvier 2009
Music and Language
Music and Language
Hello, all.
It's been an interesting few weeks since I came limping back from yak-land. The 'new injuries' that I mentioned but didn't explain in that e-mail came mostly from building the sheep pen and being thrown from a horse. Now I'm settled back into the relative ease of city life, which is something like a long period of tedium broken up by absolutely unprompted and unexpected moments of enlightenment.
In the last few weeks, I've learned more about Tuvan music and xoomei than in the three months previous. This learning has been sparked in part by a few things I've been reading, namely: Zoya Kyrgys' monograph, Mark van Tongeren's doctorate dissertation on xoomei, and the poetry of John Keats.
Last week I was asked by Konstantin Khyulnov, the official language guy at the Xoomei Center, if I would look over his translation of Zoya Kyrgys's book. Zoya is the director of the Center and one of the foremost researchers of Tuvan xoomei. It's kind of intriguing being the first person to read her research in English and actually being able to help clean up the English for publication. From it, I am beginning to learn about the different schools of xoomei --- which singers are from what regions of Tuva, who taught whom how to sing or play igil, where the students of the great singers now live, etc. I'm beginning to form vague plans for spring. Nomad life has gotten into my blood and I hope to be able to pack up a horse and ride off into the Dzun-Xemchik in search of the voice of Xunashtaar-ool. All my favorite singers seem to be from the area around Sut-Xol and I may just call that area home for a couple of months once it warms up.
Also, I just finished reading van Tongeren's book. Having read it, I find it strange that I've been at this project for so long without really understanding the harmonic sequence that lies behind the art of xoomei. Now, however, I am coming to understand the intervals involved and how they are created. Most interesting (for me, at least) is how these harmonics relate to the language. I knew before I came out here that different vowel sounds are distinguished from each other by the different harmonics that they create. We usually don't hear these harmonics, but we recognize them subconsciously. The logical conclusion from this that I didn't stop to realize is that a xoomei melody --- a series of high harmonics over a constant drone pitch --- can be correlated to a particular series of vowel sounds. This is most apparent when applied to kargyraa, the vast and deep style of throat singing that people invariably imitate when you tell them that you're learning xoomei.
While I was reading the van Tongeren, I was having a series of kargyraa lessons with Fedor Tau, one of the great kargyraa masters of modern times. The first of these lessons were pretty humorous. Fedor would sing something in kargyraa and I would try to imitate him. Sometimes my imitation would win great praise and sometimes he would cut me off and laugh at me. It took a while for me to learn which vowel patterns are allowed and which are forbidden. Now it is perfectly obvious. As I said before, Tuvan is a Turkic language, which means that all of the vowels in a single word are either 'hard' or 'soft.' This patterning is known as 'vowel harmony' and is common to all Turkic languages. In kargyraa, hard vowels are only sung with other hard vowels and soft vowels with other soft vowels. What this means is that the melody patterns of kargyraa are identical to the vowel patterns inherent in the Tuvan language. I had noticed in September that Tuvan song lyrics tend to have only hard or soft vowels in any single line of text. This allows a singer to sing a song in kargyraa without breaking up the harmony of the phrase.
On the same day that I had this insight (November 10), I read a note in my copy of the poems of Keats about the poet's theory of properly managing open and closed vowels 'like different notes of music to prevent monotony.'
While pursuing these musings into music and language, I have also started to seriously study igil, the two-stringed traditional Tuvan instrument that sounds a bit like a cello, a bit like a horse, and a bit like an electric guitar. As Zoya writes, the igil is used by singers to search for melodies and the voice of the instrument works along with the human voice to present xoomei not just as song, but as a distinct and deeply meaningful type of sound. Learning xoomei and learning igil feed off of one another, and I finally feel as if I'm getting somewhere with this whole xoomei thing. For a while I felt as if the language aspect of my Watson year would come to eclipse the music aspect. In the past few days, language, music, and poetry have come colliding into each other and I find myself happily drowning in the Tuvan sound-world.
The Tuvan language continues to amaze me. After a two-day stint when I couldn't speak a single word of Tuvan, yesterday I had another mind-expanding lesson with Valentina. The full glory of the Tuvan 'participle' came crashing into my life like the Space Station Mir, disrupting everything I've come to take for granted in this world. I stopped trying to count all the different verb forms that are allowed when I found out that some of the rules for word formation may be applied to words multiple times, making an almost infinite number of possibilities. Yesterday I watched with fascination while a noun changed into a verb and then from a verb into a participle and then into a different verb, using the same rule that had turned it into a verb in the first place. If that didn't make sense, don't worry. I'm not sure I understand it. For all you Greek students out there, take heart. You've got many rules to learn, but at least the rules stay in one place. I've always said that 'if Latin is like math, then Greek is like chaos theory.' On this spectrum, Tuvan is the court jester who pulls rabbits out of his sleeve.
Last week Valentina also introduced me to Ayan, Genya, and a few other young guys who study xoomei at the local music conservatory. On off days now I go down to the conservatory to hang out with them and see whatever is being rehearsed. The place is great --- young musicians wandering the halls with old master teachers, strains of traditional Tuvan herding songs mixing with 'Summertime' played on saxaphone, memories of high school wind ensemble rehearsals ignoring the director. All told, it's the closest thing I've found to Oberlin since coming out here. Last Wednesday I wandered down to the conservatory, expecting to sit in on a rehearsal of the orchestra that the guys are in. Instead, I ended up joining a rehearsal of the xoomei ensemble Chengi-Xaya, made up of five of the young xoomeizhis. At the start of the rehearsal, one of their igil players hadn't arrived, so they gave the second igil to me and had me tag along. Most of the rehearsal, however, I just watched. They promised to write out a copy of the lyrics for me and even invited me to join them in their concert in two weeks. I may have to pass this one up, but they promise to be great teachers, friends, and fellow musicians over the next months. Watching them play, I realized that almost an entire horse was on stage with us. The faces of an igil are traditionally made from the skin of a horse's face; the bows are from horse tails; Ayan made the sound of horse hooves by tapping together horse hooves, of all things; and extra effect was added by jingling harness bells. They even have a shaker made out of the dried skin of a horse scrotum. I didn't ask what's rattling inside. On the ride home, even when I wasn't replaying songs in my head, I could hear huge constellations of overtones. Whether it was the sound of the bus's engine or a mental echo from the rehearsal I'm still not sure.
Kyzyl is getting dirtier and colder every day. After a warm spell last week (that brought 3 or 4 inches of snow) the temperature has dropped again. Yesterday I was told that this weather signals the end of summer. The market is full of shakos, felt boots, and fur coats. Another great thing I've discovered since returning is Rollton. As the YAZ is to the Volkswagon van, so Rollton is to Top Ramen: cheap, easy to fix, and made of only the most dubious ingredients. I think I've eaten it every day but one since returning from Bai-Taiga. Also, I've become quite a pro at making bizhirgan dalgan, the local version of fried dough. It's a bit more complex than other versions internationally --- it's got milk in it (this is still Tuva, afterall) --- and is incredibly tasty. In Bai-Taiga, we ate it as a meal on it's own (meaning, with tea). In Kyzyl, I prefer to eat it with Rollton.
Tomorrow I hope to meet Kaygal-ool Xovalig, lead singer and igil artist from the group Xun-Xuur-Tu and student of the incomparable Xunashtaar-ool. In two weeks I will either be in Moscow observing the 'Tuva Days' celebration there or climbing Mongun Taiga, Tuva's highest peak. Life continues to crack new surprises and new stories. I just take them as they come.
http://www.fotuva.org/travel/stefan/music_and_lang.html
Hello, all.
It's been an interesting few weeks since I came limping back from yak-land. The 'new injuries' that I mentioned but didn't explain in that e-mail came mostly from building the sheep pen and being thrown from a horse. Now I'm settled back into the relative ease of city life, which is something like a long period of tedium broken up by absolutely unprompted and unexpected moments of enlightenment.
In the last few weeks, I've learned more about Tuvan music and xoomei than in the three months previous. This learning has been sparked in part by a few things I've been reading, namely: Zoya Kyrgys' monograph, Mark van Tongeren's doctorate dissertation on xoomei, and the poetry of John Keats.
Last week I was asked by Konstantin Khyulnov, the official language guy at the Xoomei Center, if I would look over his translation of Zoya Kyrgys's book. Zoya is the director of the Center and one of the foremost researchers of Tuvan xoomei. It's kind of intriguing being the first person to read her research in English and actually being able to help clean up the English for publication. From it, I am beginning to learn about the different schools of xoomei --- which singers are from what regions of Tuva, who taught whom how to sing or play igil, where the students of the great singers now live, etc. I'm beginning to form vague plans for spring. Nomad life has gotten into my blood and I hope to be able to pack up a horse and ride off into the Dzun-Xemchik in search of the voice of Xunashtaar-ool. All my favorite singers seem to be from the area around Sut-Xol and I may just call that area home for a couple of months once it warms up.
Also, I just finished reading van Tongeren's book. Having read it, I find it strange that I've been at this project for so long without really understanding the harmonic sequence that lies behind the art of xoomei. Now, however, I am coming to understand the intervals involved and how they are created. Most interesting (for me, at least) is how these harmonics relate to the language. I knew before I came out here that different vowel sounds are distinguished from each other by the different harmonics that they create. We usually don't hear these harmonics, but we recognize them subconsciously. The logical conclusion from this that I didn't stop to realize is that a xoomei melody --- a series of high harmonics over a constant drone pitch --- can be correlated to a particular series of vowel sounds. This is most apparent when applied to kargyraa, the vast and deep style of throat singing that people invariably imitate when you tell them that you're learning xoomei.
While I was reading the van Tongeren, I was having a series of kargyraa lessons with Fedor Tau, one of the great kargyraa masters of modern times. The first of these lessons were pretty humorous. Fedor would sing something in kargyraa and I would try to imitate him. Sometimes my imitation would win great praise and sometimes he would cut me off and laugh at me. It took a while for me to learn which vowel patterns are allowed and which are forbidden. Now it is perfectly obvious. As I said before, Tuvan is a Turkic language, which means that all of the vowels in a single word are either 'hard' or 'soft.' This patterning is known as 'vowel harmony' and is common to all Turkic languages. In kargyraa, hard vowels are only sung with other hard vowels and soft vowels with other soft vowels. What this means is that the melody patterns of kargyraa are identical to the vowel patterns inherent in the Tuvan language. I had noticed in September that Tuvan song lyrics tend to have only hard or soft vowels in any single line of text. This allows a singer to sing a song in kargyraa without breaking up the harmony of the phrase.
On the same day that I had this insight (November 10), I read a note in my copy of the poems of Keats about the poet's theory of properly managing open and closed vowels 'like different notes of music to prevent monotony.'
While pursuing these musings into music and language, I have also started to seriously study igil, the two-stringed traditional Tuvan instrument that sounds a bit like a cello, a bit like a horse, and a bit like an electric guitar. As Zoya writes, the igil is used by singers to search for melodies and the voice of the instrument works along with the human voice to present xoomei not just as song, but as a distinct and deeply meaningful type of sound. Learning xoomei and learning igil feed off of one another, and I finally feel as if I'm getting somewhere with this whole xoomei thing. For a while I felt as if the language aspect of my Watson year would come to eclipse the music aspect. In the past few days, language, music, and poetry have come colliding into each other and I find myself happily drowning in the Tuvan sound-world.
The Tuvan language continues to amaze me. After a two-day stint when I couldn't speak a single word of Tuvan, yesterday I had another mind-expanding lesson with Valentina. The full glory of the Tuvan 'participle' came crashing into my life like the Space Station Mir, disrupting everything I've come to take for granted in this world. I stopped trying to count all the different verb forms that are allowed when I found out that some of the rules for word formation may be applied to words multiple times, making an almost infinite number of possibilities. Yesterday I watched with fascination while a noun changed into a verb and then from a verb into a participle and then into a different verb, using the same rule that had turned it into a verb in the first place. If that didn't make sense, don't worry. I'm not sure I understand it. For all you Greek students out there, take heart. You've got many rules to learn, but at least the rules stay in one place. I've always said that 'if Latin is like math, then Greek is like chaos theory.' On this spectrum, Tuvan is the court jester who pulls rabbits out of his sleeve.
Last week Valentina also introduced me to Ayan, Genya, and a few other young guys who study xoomei at the local music conservatory. On off days now I go down to the conservatory to hang out with them and see whatever is being rehearsed. The place is great --- young musicians wandering the halls with old master teachers, strains of traditional Tuvan herding songs mixing with 'Summertime' played on saxaphone, memories of high school wind ensemble rehearsals ignoring the director. All told, it's the closest thing I've found to Oberlin since coming out here. Last Wednesday I wandered down to the conservatory, expecting to sit in on a rehearsal of the orchestra that the guys are in. Instead, I ended up joining a rehearsal of the xoomei ensemble Chengi-Xaya, made up of five of the young xoomeizhis. At the start of the rehearsal, one of their igil players hadn't arrived, so they gave the second igil to me and had me tag along. Most of the rehearsal, however, I just watched. They promised to write out a copy of the lyrics for me and even invited me to join them in their concert in two weeks. I may have to pass this one up, but they promise to be great teachers, friends, and fellow musicians over the next months. Watching them play, I realized that almost an entire horse was on stage with us. The faces of an igil are traditionally made from the skin of a horse's face; the bows are from horse tails; Ayan made the sound of horse hooves by tapping together horse hooves, of all things; and extra effect was added by jingling harness bells. They even have a shaker made out of the dried skin of a horse scrotum. I didn't ask what's rattling inside. On the ride home, even when I wasn't replaying songs in my head, I could hear huge constellations of overtones. Whether it was the sound of the bus's engine or a mental echo from the rehearsal I'm still not sure.
Kyzyl is getting dirtier and colder every day. After a warm spell last week (that brought 3 or 4 inches of snow) the temperature has dropped again. Yesterday I was told that this weather signals the end of summer. The market is full of shakos, felt boots, and fur coats. Another great thing I've discovered since returning is Rollton. As the YAZ is to the Volkswagon van, so Rollton is to Top Ramen: cheap, easy to fix, and made of only the most dubious ingredients. I think I've eaten it every day but one since returning from Bai-Taiga. Also, I've become quite a pro at making bizhirgan dalgan, the local version of fried dough. It's a bit more complex than other versions internationally --- it's got milk in it (this is still Tuva, afterall) --- and is incredibly tasty. In Bai-Taiga, we ate it as a meal on it's own (meaning, with tea). In Kyzyl, I prefer to eat it with Rollton.
Tomorrow I hope to meet Kaygal-ool Xovalig, lead singer and igil artist from the group Xun-Xuur-Tu and student of the incomparable Xunashtaar-ool. In two weeks I will either be in Moscow observing the 'Tuva Days' celebration there or climbing Mongun Taiga, Tuva's highest peak. Life continues to crack new surprises and new stories. I just take them as they come.
http://www.fotuva.org/travel/stefan/music_and_lang.html
AQUA - Experiencia Bienestar por Agua (watsu, overtones and natural sounds) AquaWellness
Fluyendo, volando y liberando en aguas cristalinas y calidas,
en el pulso natural y los sonidos del corazón, la respiración, junto a la música del agua.
Es una experiencia interior que nos armoniza desde las aguas, vivenciando estados de paz en el movimiento natural, liberándonos del estrés y dolores por el bienestar, como una pluma que vuela en el río.
Un espacio de contacto interior y bienestar total, mediante el agua calida a temperatura de útero (rango de 34º a 37º), descansando y fluyendo en nuestros movimientos en la libertad del a ingravidez del agua, aplicando el toque terapéutico Japonés (Watsu = Shiatsu en agua) masaje manual y de agua con espirales, estiramientos, movimientos y sonidos armónicos naturales, en nuestro estado de paz interior.
En un espacio de confianza, en una experiencia integra de paz y bienestar a niveles: físico-emocional y mental.
Gracias agua y a toda vida.
Compartamos la experiencia y el recuerdo del agua.
Rodrigo Salas Zuleta
aquaterapias@gmail.com
samedi 17 janvier 2009
HUUN HUUR TU's biography
Huun-Huur-Tu (Tuvan: Хүн Хүртү Khün Khürtü) is a music group from Tuva, a Russian republic situated on the Mongolian border.
One of the distinctive elements of their music is throat singing, in which singers sing both the note and the note's overtone, thus controlling two tunes simultaneously. The overtone often sounds like a flute, but it is a human's voice.
Instruments the group uses include the igil, khomus, doshpuluur, tungur (shaman drum), and others.
[edit] History
The xöömei quartet Kungurtuk was founded in 1992 by Kaigal-ool Khovalyg, brothers Alexander and Sayan Bapa, and Albert Kuvezin. Not long afterwards, the group changed its name to Huun-Huur-Tu, meaning "sunbeams" (literally "sun propeller"). The focus of their music was traditional Tuvan folk songs, frequently featuring imagery of the Tuvan steppe or of horses.
The ensemble released its first album, 60 Horses In My Herd, the following year. The album was recorded at studios in London and Mill Valley, California. By the time recording began for the follow-up, Kuvezin had left the group to form the more rock-oriented Yat-Kha. Kuvezin was replaced by Anatoli Kuular, who had previously worked with Khovalyg and Kongar-ool Ondar as part of the Tuva Ensemble. The new line-up recorded The Orphan's Lament in New York City and Moscow, and released it in 1994.
In 1995, Alexander Bapa, who had produced the first two albums, departed the group to pursue production as a full-time career. He was replaced by Alexei Saryglar, formerly a member of the Russian state ensemble Siberian Souvenir. A third album, If I'd Been Born An Eagle, recorded in the Netherlands, followed in 1997. This time, in addition to the traditional folk music, the group performed some rather more contemporary Tuvan songs, from the latter half of the 20th century.
In early 1999, the group released its fourth album, Where Young Grass Grows. For the first time on a Huun-Huur-Tu album, non-Tuvan instruments (except for the guitar) were featured, including harp, tabla, Scottish smallpipe (performed by Martyn Bennett) and synthesiser. The album also features two excerpts of recordings made of Kaigal-ool and Anatoli singing whilst riding horseback on the Tuvan grasslands.
Huun-Huur-Tu participated in the 2000 BBC Music Live event, performing the opening and closing songs for a live, early morning broadcast from Snape Maltings. The following year, the group released their first live album.
In 2003, Kuular quit the group and was replaced by Andrey Mongush, an experienced teacher of xöömei and Tuvan instruments.
[edit] Albums
* 60 Horses In My Herd (1993)
* The Orphan's Lament (1994)
* If I'd Been Born An Eagle (1997)
* Where Young Grass Grows (1999)
* Live 1 (2001)
* Live 2 (2001)
* Best * Live (2001)
* More Live (2003)
* Spirits from Tuva (2003)
* Altai Sayan Tandy-Uula (2004)
With The Bulgarian Voices - Angelite:
* Fly, Fly My Sadness (1996)
* Mountain Tale (1998)
[edit] External links
* Huun-Huur-Tu official site
* Huun-Huur-Tu photo gallery (JARO)
* Greek television advertisement featuring "Eki Attar" from The Orphan's Lament
* Directory of high-resolution photographs of the group
* Huun-Huur-Tu discography at MusicBrainz
* Huun-Huur-Tu on On Point Radio, Aired January 13, 2006
* BBC Radio Awards for World Music, 2004
* Huun-Huur-Tu: Music Refracting Sunlight (Russia-IC.com article)
* Huun-Huur-Tu at the Philadelphia Folk Festival, August 2006
* Huun-Huur-Tu captivates audience with Tuvan music, October 2007
Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huun-Huur-Tu"
Categories: Throat singing | Xoomii | Tuvan music
HUUN HUUR TU's pictures + biography
Huun Huur Tu
Ce quatuor perpétue les traditions vocales et instrumentales de Touva, pays de steppes et de montagnes situé au nord-ouest de la Mongolie : une véritable invitation au voyage shamanique.
Dans la langue de Touva, l'expression "huun huur tu" désigne cet étrange phénomène de diffraction de la lumière qui se produit sur la steppe au moment où le soleil se lève ou se couche. En cet instant magique, on dirait que la terre toute entière rayonne d'une lueur sans âge émanant des herbes et des pierres. Il existe un parallèle entre ce phénomène lumineux et la dissociation des harmoniques de la voix produite par les techniques du chant "khöömii" (littéralement chant de larynx), en français chant diphonique.
Ce singulier art vocal est pratiqué en Mongolie et à Touva, ex-république soviétique autonome qui lui est limitrophe à l'ouest de sa frontière nord. Quiconque l'a entendu une fois ne pourra l'oublier. Et c'est afin de faire connaître ce fascinant particularisme musical, que le groupe Huun Huur Tu s'est formé en 1992, après que le pays fut libéré du carcan soviétique.
La première mouture du quatuor est formée de Kaigal-ool Khovalyg, Alexandre "Sacha" Bapa et son frère Sayan, trois transfuges de l'Ensemble folklorique d'Etat, troupe officielle chargée de présenter une image stéréotypée des traditions populaires dans l'ancien empire soviétique, ainsi que d'Albert Kuvezin.
Kaigal-ool Khovalyg a officié comme berger jusqu'à ses 21 ans, en 1981, avant d'intégrer l'Ensemble folklorique d'Etat. Il est particulièrement réputé pour sa maîtrise des techniques spécifiques de chants khöömii et kargyraa.
Sayan Bapa a du sang russe par sa mère. Il s'est formé à la musique dans le nord du Caucase et a été bassiste de jazz-rock avant de se tourner vers les traditions de son pays à son retour à Touva, au début des années '90. Il maîtrise particulièrement les instruments à cordes traditionnels comme le doshpuluur et l'igil.
Albert Kuvezin, qui avait entrepris sa propre démarche dès 1991, participe à la première tournée et au premier album de Huun Huur Tu, avant de se consacrer entièrement à son propre projet, à la frontière du rock et de la tradition avec son groupe Yat-Kha. Il est remplacé en 1993 par Anatoli Kuular, ancien berger virtuose du chant diphonique et de la guimbarde devenu musicien professionnel au sein de l'Ensemble Touva.
Sacha Bapa, possédait notamment dans sa panoplie de percussions un hochet fabriqué à partir d'un testicule de bœuf dans lequel sont enfermés des osselets de chevilles de moutons. Il quitte le groupe en 1995, après ses premiers succès américains, pour se lancer dans la production à Moscou. Il est remplacé par le jeune Alexei Saryglar, ancien membre de l'ensemble d'Etat Siberian Souvenir, spécialisé dans le style de chant sygyt.
Basé dans la capitale de Touva, Kyzyl, Huun Huur Tu a été invité à tourner aux Etats Unis dès 1993. Les musiciens ont contribué à la musique du film Geronimo sous la houlette de Ry Cooder et se sont joints aux univers aussi divers que ceux du regretté Frank Zappa, des Chieftains ou du Kronos Quartet. Les deux albums enregistrés en 1996 et 1998 par Huun Huur Tu avec le chœur de femmes bulgares Angelite n'égalent sans doute pas la puissance d'évocation des quatre albums produits par le label américain Shanachie. Et c'est sans doute avec le cinquième, un "live" enregistré en avril 2001 dans d'excellentes conditions, que l'on approchera au plus prêt les émotions inédites provoquées par cette musique venue d'un monde où l'homme, le cheval, l'eau, la terre et le ciel sont unis dans le mystère d'une ineffable harmonie.
François Bensignor
http://www.huunhuurtu.com/
Ce quatuor perpétue les traditions vocales et instrumentales de Touva, pays de steppes et de montagnes situé au nord-ouest de la Mongolie : une véritable invitation au voyage shamanique.
Dans la langue de Touva, l'expression "huun huur tu" désigne cet étrange phénomène de diffraction de la lumière qui se produit sur la steppe au moment où le soleil se lève ou se couche. En cet instant magique, on dirait que la terre toute entière rayonne d'une lueur sans âge émanant des herbes et des pierres. Il existe un parallèle entre ce phénomène lumineux et la dissociation des harmoniques de la voix produite par les techniques du chant "khöömii" (littéralement chant de larynx), en français chant diphonique.
Ce singulier art vocal est pratiqué en Mongolie et à Touva, ex-république soviétique autonome qui lui est limitrophe à l'ouest de sa frontière nord. Quiconque l'a entendu une fois ne pourra l'oublier. Et c'est afin de faire connaître ce fascinant particularisme musical, que le groupe Huun Huur Tu s'est formé en 1992, après que le pays fut libéré du carcan soviétique.
La première mouture du quatuor est formée de Kaigal-ool Khovalyg, Alexandre "Sacha" Bapa et son frère Sayan, trois transfuges de l'Ensemble folklorique d'Etat, troupe officielle chargée de présenter une image stéréotypée des traditions populaires dans l'ancien empire soviétique, ainsi que d'Albert Kuvezin.
Kaigal-ool Khovalyg a officié comme berger jusqu'à ses 21 ans, en 1981, avant d'intégrer l'Ensemble folklorique d'Etat. Il est particulièrement réputé pour sa maîtrise des techniques spécifiques de chants khöömii et kargyraa.
Sayan Bapa a du sang russe par sa mère. Il s'est formé à la musique dans le nord du Caucase et a été bassiste de jazz-rock avant de se tourner vers les traditions de son pays à son retour à Touva, au début des années '90. Il maîtrise particulièrement les instruments à cordes traditionnels comme le doshpuluur et l'igil.
Albert Kuvezin, qui avait entrepris sa propre démarche dès 1991, participe à la première tournée et au premier album de Huun Huur Tu, avant de se consacrer entièrement à son propre projet, à la frontière du rock et de la tradition avec son groupe Yat-Kha. Il est remplacé en 1993 par Anatoli Kuular, ancien berger virtuose du chant diphonique et de la guimbarde devenu musicien professionnel au sein de l'Ensemble Touva.
Sacha Bapa, possédait notamment dans sa panoplie de percussions un hochet fabriqué à partir d'un testicule de bœuf dans lequel sont enfermés des osselets de chevilles de moutons. Il quitte le groupe en 1995, après ses premiers succès américains, pour se lancer dans la production à Moscou. Il est remplacé par le jeune Alexei Saryglar, ancien membre de l'ensemble d'Etat Siberian Souvenir, spécialisé dans le style de chant sygyt.
Basé dans la capitale de Touva, Kyzyl, Huun Huur Tu a été invité à tourner aux Etats Unis dès 1993. Les musiciens ont contribué à la musique du film Geronimo sous la houlette de Ry Cooder et se sont joints aux univers aussi divers que ceux du regretté Frank Zappa, des Chieftains ou du Kronos Quartet. Les deux albums enregistrés en 1996 et 1998 par Huun Huur Tu avec le chœur de femmes bulgares Angelite n'égalent sans doute pas la puissance d'évocation des quatre albums produits par le label américain Shanachie. Et c'est sans doute avec le cinquième, un "live" enregistré en avril 2001 dans d'excellentes conditions, que l'on approchera au plus prêt les émotions inédites provoquées par cette musique venue d'un monde où l'homme, le cheval, l'eau, la terre et le ciel sont unis dans le mystère d'une ineffable harmonie.
François Bensignor
http://www.huunhuurtu.com/
VVM phonation mode, physical model (by L.Fuks)
This is a simplified physical model proposed by me for the larynx during VVM phonation mode, which produces similar sounds to those from the Tibetan Chant tradition. Below, the vocal folds (m1,m2) and above, the false or ventricular folds (m3). In this example, vocal folds oscillate at a frequency which is twice as that of the ventricular folds. The letters m stand for mass, k for stiffness, and r for damping coefficient. Indexes r-l stand for left and right sides, respectively.
Sundry Sounds produced by Leonardo Fuks and other examples
During my research work in music acoustics I created/recorded/processed some gigabytes of sound files, most of them of no musical interest for the listener.
However, a few of them might be listened by tolerant and attentive ears. They are presented below.
The first group of sound files refers to Paper VI of my thesis, which are identified with the Tibetan Chant voice, and other extended vocal effects investigated in the paper.
FILES IN REAL AUDIO FORMAT
Vocal-ventricular sounds (used in Tibetan and Mongolian "undertone" singing):
0.Original sounds from the Gyuto Monastery, Tibet
1.Fixed fundamental and sweeping overtones
2.f0/2 and f0/3 VVM
3. An imitation of a Tibetan Chant context (rather similar to 0, above)
4. Popeye the Saylor used VVM !! (an original recording from a William Costello's version)
5. VVM and flute improvisation
6. Overtone singing in VVM mode, melody of "Oh, Susanah" (see the spectrogram)
Periodic pulse register , see Paper VI
7. Alternation between pulse register ("fry") and modal voice
8. "Vocal fry" at fo/1,fo/2, fo/3, f0/4, fo/5 & back to 1
Vocal Growl (co-oscillation of vocal folds and epiglottis)-similar to the mechanism used by Louis Armstrong
9. Periodic Growl, in f0/2 and fo/3, with overtone singing
Tarogato (wooden saxophone from Hungary)
10.Tarogato(from the theme of Ravel's La Valse)
A piece for OBOE called "My Six Marigaux 10499's", recorded in 6 channels
11.6oboeshttp://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=2501602841558604249#
All recordings, excepted by numbers 0 (Gyuto Monks, Tibet) and 4 (Popeye, W. Costello) are performed by Leonardo Fuks
To the THESIS INTRODUCTION - FROM AIR TO MUSIC: Acoustical, Physiological and Perceptual Aspects of Reed Wind Instrument Playing and Vocal-Ventricular Fold Phonation
HTML by Leonardo Fuks
http://www.speech.kth.se/music/publications/leofuks/leosounds.html
Title: From Air to Music: Acoustical, physiological and perceptual aspects of reed wind instrument playing and vocal-ventricular fold phonation
Author: Leonardo Fuks
Email: click here to access email
Degree Awarded: Royal Institute of Technology , Speech, Music, and Hearing
Degree Date: 1998
Linguistic Subfield(s): Phonetics
Director(s): Johan Sundberg
Abstract:
This thesis presents an interdisciplinary research on reed woodwind instruments and human voice, focusing on acoustical, physiological and perceptual aspects of sound generation.
The wind instruments studies concentrate on breathing and blowing under realistic conditions and provide a deeper insight on required aerodynamical input parameters.
The variation of blowing pressure with loudness and fundamental frequency was measured in professional players of oboe, bassoon, clarinet, and alto saxophone and was found to be quite systematic, though differing between the instruments.
The players' perception of self-produced static lung pressures typically used in performances was analysed in a psychophysical experiment, that revealed a quasi-linear relationship between perceived and produced pressures.
The respiratory movements during playing were measured by a non-invasive technique, respiratory inductive pletysmography, that offered acceptably reliable data. The results revealed significant participation of the rib cage in all players and also of the abdominal wall in several players.
Also, the impact of the continuous changes of O2 and CO2 gases in the pulmonary air exhaled during performance on the fundamental frequency was predicted from theory and compared with experimental data. The effect, smaller than that of temperature variation, still would represent a factor of potential relevance to wind instrument intonation.
In addition, the sound production characteristics of a particular type of phonation, perceptually judged as similar to that used in Tibetan chant, were studied by high speed imaging as well as by acoustical and physiological methods, revealing a synchronised co-oscillation of the vocal and ventricular folds, that yields a lowering of fundamental frequency due to multiplication of the vocal fold period.
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