dragon or a lion. In the legend of the Morin Khuur, Khukhuu Namjil was the first to carve a horse’s head. According to Mongolians, the shape of the current fiddle dates from that time. Chinggis Khaan opened ceremonies and celebratory events with a recital by musicians playing Morin Khuurs. It is no different today, on official occasions like state receptions.
Enough of the theory says Odmaa suddenly. Baigaljav’s wife agrees with her. I close my notebook and pick up my camera. We go out into the passage. A slim man is standing in front of the door and Baigaljav shakes him warmly by the hand. He is the very well-known Burjate, Battuvshin, a famous musician from Ulan-Ude who is collecting his new instrument today. He tells us that the best horse head fiddles in the world are built in this workshop.
The Morin Khuur consists of a sounding chamber, the handle or neck and the bow. It is made of birch wood. Wood from the pine, fir or spruce is used for the top of the sounding chamber. The top of the neck consists of the horse head and the tuning pegs. There are two bridges between the strings and the sounding chamber. The strings are made of 365 stretched hairs, symbolising the number of days in the year, whereby one string is thicker than the other. Traditionally, the thinner of the two strings is made from the tail hairs of a mare while the thicker one is made from the tail hairs of a stallion. The number of hairs used can however vary and depends on the strength and the temperament of the player, namely how much pressure is applied to the strings when playing. The Mongols say that the two strings embody the Yin and Yang of the Asian world.
The bow used to play the Morin Khuur is either made of willow or birch. It weighs between 86 and 95 grams and is also strung with horsehair. Depending on the player, between 120 and 250 horse tail hairs or polyester filaments are used.
In the case of fiddles that are played in an orchestra, there is a standard for the construction of the Morin Khuur in order to achieve a uniform sound picture. The lower, large bridge should be 38 mm high and 73 mm wide, while the upper , smaller bridge is 22 m high and 30 mm wide. The neck is 770 mm long. The size of the area of the strings that should be used to create the sounds is defined as being 440 mm. The tuning pegs are 150 mm long. The upper part of the sounding chamber is 200 mm wide; the lower part 280 mm. The chamber is 320 mm high and 100 mm deep.
The master craftsman laughs about the number game. No construction - no music! But we are truly impressed. We sit down again in the comfortable leather armchairs. I look a little worriedly out of the window. The journey back into town is going to test our patience as we have to take three different buses. Odmaa taps her watch. I know. We will have to leave soon.
But I still have a question for Baigaljav . What was the childhood experience that lead him to follow his chosen career path? He looks at me surprised.
He grew up as part of a nomadic family in the South Gobi. One day, while the young Baigaljav was wandering in the desert, he came across an object that he didn’t recognise. His curiosity was aroused. He hid it amongst his small stash of possessions. At home he told his family the story of his find. His mother wanted to know more and went with him to see what her son had found. As she had suspected from what the boy had said, it was a horse head fiddle. The child was allowed to keep his treasure but his mother had to carry out some running repairs. He started to play the fiddle and over time, his virtuoso musical skills developed. Unfortunately however, the instrument was destroyed by some careless act by his brother and Baigaljav has still not really come to terms with the loss. His immense love of music pushed the ten year old to make his own fiddle. This was the first instrument made by the boy who would become the famous craftsman. And he still has it to this day.
Traditional and modern instruments
Stages in the construction of the Morin Khuur.
The master craftsman in his workshop.
In front of his workshop, in the town’s jurte settlement.
The legend: “Khukhuu Namjil“
Many years ago, a young man named Khukhuu Namjil lived in the east of the country. He was known far and wide as an excellent singer. One day, a long way from home, he was letting his horse graze on the banks of a river when a young, enchanting girl rode out of the waters towards him. She spoke to him and persuaded him to ride with her to her parents. He stayed there for several days and entertained the family with his singing. It didn’t take long until it the decision was made that the young couple should marry.
Even though the young man was happy in his new family, after a while he was drawn back to his own family, particularly to his truelove who he had left behind there. Between them, they agreed that he should split his time between the two families and the girl allowed Khukhuu Namjil to leave, giving him a fawn-coloured horse for the journey. With this horse, he would be able to ride each day to be with his wife and family but then at night, he could return to his original family and truelove. He must however ensure that the horse should be allowed to stop at a reasonable distance before the man reached his own jurte so that it would have a chance to recover its breath.
He headed off on his fawn-coloured horse. For three years, he spent his days with his wife and family but at night, he returned to his far-away truelove. Then one day, when he forgot to give his horse time to rest before getting home, his wife became suspicious and taking a pair of scissors, she killed the horse by stabbing it.
For three long months, despairing at not being able to get back to his truelove, Khukhuu Namjil ate nothing. Finally, he carved a likeness of the head of his dead horse from one of its bones and made himself a fiddle that he strung using horse hairs. From that day on, he accompanied himself on that fiddle as he sung his sad and mournful songs.
Tsagaan Sar
Tomorrow is Tsagaan Sar, the Mongolian New Year Festival. Throughout the whole day, I have the sense of the pre-Christmas atmosphere that we have back in Germany. People scurry about the squares and streets with bulging shopping bags as if they are afraid that soon there will be nothing left on the shelves. I am pushed here and there in the crowd. I am waiting at the bus stop in Sukhbaatar Square. I wait a while for the bus to turn up and then I decide on a different option. I call Saulegul who in the same way as I am, is also on his own at holiday times. The Kazakhstanis, who like Saule are of the Moslem faith, do not celebrate this Buddhist festival. We arrange to meet that evening in a pub.
The Mongolian New Year is a moveable feast that takes place on different dates from the end of January to the end of February. The lamas from the largest monastery in Ulaanbaatar, Gandan, determine the exact date of the festival each year. They calculate it based on the first phase of the new moon and the Asian calendar.
Back in the year 1206, Chinggis Khaan decreed that the start of spring should be celebrated each year as this is the time when the animals give birth to their young. This start of the new cycle of life should be marked by the people through celebrations. The name White New Year Festival is derived from the colour of milk. In the 17th century, Zanabazar, as the first Bogd Khaan and in his capacity as the head of the lamas, absorbed the previously secular festival into Buddhism, which had recently been