THANH THUY

Over 20 years ago, Phan Thi Thanh Thuy left her poor family in Hue to come to Ho Chi Minh City and earned her living by learning the trade of making the traditional zithers.

During daytime she spent hours polishing pieces of shells or painting wooden planks, and at night she tried to learn to play the zither, taught by the owner of the manufacturing shop, a craftsman-artist by the name of Vinh Tuan, an offspring of a famous musician in the old royal court in the ancient city of Hue. Thanh Thuy then rose to fame when she won the competition held by the Tuoi Tre (Youth) Newspaper in 1989 for talents in traditional music.

“It has been very long since we had a guest. Wine has been served, please help yourself.” The husband led me to the back garden where I found an old thatched hut with many musical instruments of “tranh” and “ty ba” hanged inside. The shiny look of the wood planks in the instruments tells me that they must have lasted very long lives. After three rounds of the special wine of “Hoang Hoa Tuu,” the couple of craft artists Vinh Tuan and Thanh Thuy began to recount the story of their lives. The story reveals that the relationship between the two artists is not just that of husband and wife, but also as a teacher and his pupil.

The teacher, the disciple and traditional music.

Thanh Thuy followed her mother from Hue to Lam Dong in 1981 on the way to earn a living and they ended up in Saigon, where hunger and homelessness were no strangers to new comers in their first days in the city. At the door of the house of master musician Buu Loc, Thanh Thuy begged to be accepted as a helping hand for the zither making workshop of craft artist Vinh Loc, a great talent in both the trade of instrument making and as a player of traditional music.

During the days polishing the small pieces of shells and pressing the paint on wooden planks and flakes, Thanh Thuy sometimes found that the hard work made her fingers bleed. No matter what, she loved this new job. Moreover, her young heart was deeply moved by the sound of music that her boss played every night when he tested the sounds and tried to make necessary adjustment to the instrument bases in the most diligent ways until the sound came close to perfection. Every time the artist felt satisfied with his work, he would indulge himself in several cups of wine and then he would be sunk in his music all the long quiet nights.

One day Thanh Thuy collected her courage and asked the boss to teach her his skills on the 16-string instrument. Having the experience of teaching scores of students before, Vinh Tuan quickly recognized the sense and the gift of music in this young lady, who he sensed could become an outstanding disciple. Absorbed in the daily work and the music lessons, Thanh Thuy now had only a few hours of rest every day, but very often she would sacrifice her rest time and even her sleeping time for practicing her music lessons.

In 1989, Thanh Thuy had a chance to participate in the competition for musical talents organized by the Tuoi Tre Newspaper. Although she came as an independent contestant who had never been to any official training school or academy, Thanh Thuy unexpectedly won the special prize in the competition. It is regretful that because of her family economic situation, she could not continue to play as an entertainer in the show business, and her artistic skills were just for herself and her teacher to enjoy.

Not long after that the sound of music had got deeper into their hearts and the relationship between the teacher and his pupil had turned into love. They got married soon after and continued the work of zither making, although the business had never been thriving. The husband once confided to his wife: “My grandfather, my mother and then I all have our lives attached closely to traditional musical instrument making.

As we do not have the condition to become performers, instrument making will be our lifeline. But if we keep living in this hectic and noisy environment in the city, we will not be able to make the instruments as fine as we wish.” The couple then decided to leave the city and came to live in a remote rural area, partly because of the family economic circumstance but the main reason behind the decision was to have an environment of tranquility that is important for the creation of fine musical instruments.

The unfulfilled dream.

In the remote village of Phuoc Binh in Long Thanh district, Dong Nai province, the couple bought an isolated piece of land where they began to rebuild the instrument making factory, trying to fulfill their dream of making the traditional musical instruments that will attract more listeners and students to join hand in the effort to preserve the essence of traditional music of our country.

It takes at least two years for a “tranh” zither to be completed, counting from the starting day to the day the lines can be strung. The body of the zither must be made from selected good wood that is free of cracks and wood-eyes. Then it must be crusted with seven layers of lacquer paint, each layer has to be done three months after the previous one. Craftsmen who are new to the trade usually find their fingernails damaged as they go through this arduous and time-consuming process. All this meticulous attention, however, can only contribute to the quality of the instrument, which cannot be considered perfect if the instrument fails to display its “soul.” This is the final step master craftsman-artist Vinh Tuan has to do himself: stringing the lines and testing the sound.

The work has to be done in the silence of night time when the craftsman-artist finds himself in the state of complete peace and tranquility. A slightest feeling of dissatisfaction would be enough for the artist to dismantle all the lines and have the surface of the instrument adjusted. The instruments used by performers also need to be equipped with 16 arch-shaped (mobin?) to go with the 16 strings and help the amplified sound become clearer and free of the noises usually found in microphones.

In the early days, the business helped create jobs for some local residents. Fine words spread far and helped bring many buyers. Among the customers there were overseas Vietnamese who loved to bring the instruments with them back to where they reside. The good time soon passed, and less and less customers found their way to the place. The couple explained the situation with a sigh: “These days less and less people want to listen to or to learn our traditional music.” Then the 1998 flash floods came and literally swept away their business. When the water level in the Dong Nai River rose to nearly 3 meters on top of continuous heavy rainfalls, all equipment, materials, tools and all about-to-be-completed instruments together with other property were swept away by the floods.

Now the couple is still living there on this piece of land of half-circle shape with their plants, ponds and even with a creek where the family created a “Moon Quay” place for the family band to sit together to play the old tunes. The family still leads an austere lifestyle as they are still poor as ever, although they now own an invaluable asset, which is the three children: daughter Ton Nu Tan Tranh, and two sons Bao Long and Bao Thanh. All children inherit the love for traditional music from their parents and are now able to join them to play the music. During daytime, parents and children work on the land and fish in the creek. When evening time comes, the whole family gathers and the parents teach the children the music skills.

Two elevated platforms have been erected in the garden for the family to sit together and play their music every afternoon. Vinh Tuan exclaimed: “Nothing can be compared to playing my musical instruments on that high platform. The sound of music is nothing but the sound of your soul. If you are in the mood of happiness, the tunes from your instrument can also reach their climax.”

My host continued: “The life of an instrument player will go through four stages: first learning how to play then playing to conquer other people’s heart. In the third stage the artist will play for his own soul, and the last stage will be when the music sound gets beyond the real life to go up high to the spiritual world.” Craftsman-artist Vinh Tuan – the only grandchild who had the honor to inherit the most precious “ti ba” instrument among the collection owned by his mandarin-grandfather Hong Quan Mau, an official of the old royal court in Hue City – filled up another cup of Hoang Hoa Tuu, a special wine prepared by himself, for his guest. The children, who have just came home from school, were told to bring the instruments and play the two old tunes of “Tu Dai Canh” and “Lieu Bo Thap Chuong” for the guest to hear before bidding farewell to the family.

With her soft and warm voice, Thanh Thuy talked about the burning desire to rebuild the business to make “tranh” zithers. She revealed that the family is still keeping about 50 of the instruments that they spent nearly three years to prepare and were about to complete when the 1998 floods came and the family has never been able to finalize their work on these instruments since then. She said that if suitable conditions are available, the family will try to finalize the work on these instruments, which will be the presents the family wishes to offer to truly ardent lovers of traditional music or to winners of traditional music competitions.

She told me before I bade farewell: “This will probably be the last sound of our soul that we want to offer to life. I believe, however, that the music of these artists will continue to come to life much longer than that.

http://www.tuoitre.com.vn/Tianyon/Index.aspx?ArticleID=105544&ChannelID=58