CHAPTER XVIII.

In the Land of Japan.

JAPANESE PITCH PIPES AND THE JAPANESE CLARIONET AND THE SHO.

The Japanese are a curious people, blending as they do in their manners

and customs, in their ways of thought and mental tendencies, in their

childish acceptances and intellectual eagerness, naive simplicity and

artistic perceptivity; a strange union of the primitive, the ancient,

and the modern, all instinct with present vitality. In their musical

system and musical practice, they inherit a long past, prehistoric;

and, in their way upward through the centuries, seem to have developed

an absorbing power, enabling them to acquire the new without foregoing

the ancient, and to blend all that they acquire with a spontaneous ease

that is less art than happy nature, making in every sense the best of

everything. Adhering to the traditional, yet unfettered by the pedantic

formality which so cripples the progress of the Chinese, they are able

to advance with freedom, and to affiliate whatever seems to them

good. In the Japanese musical system, we find the ancient pentatonic

scale, the old Greek scales, and the equal semitonal division of the

octave, all coexisting; the latter being to them indistinguishable

from our equal temperament, which we assume to be so modern. Hence our

pianoforte is naturally acceptable to them for its progression of

scale, although their ears do not yet make the demand for harmony which

is characteristic of the western nations.

[Illustration: _Japanese Pitch Pipes._

_Full Size._

_Fig. 32._]

The illustration given is full size. It is of a set of Japanese pitch

pipes, consisting of six little bamboo tubes, threaded at the middle

on a copper wire, which, merely flattened at the ends, serves to hold

all the pipes together. At each end of each pipe is a little hollow

plug, which fits in tightly; and at the point which is cut on the slant

a small brass plate is fixed, as shown in the sketch at top, which is

drawn twice the size of the original; and in the middle of the plate is

a tiny reed, cut in the plate by a fine chisel. This reed lifts up its

tip in a fine delicate curve, like the curve of “my ladye’s eyelash”;

and each of these minute hairlike reeds is formed to give the desired

pitch for one of the twelve semitones of the compass of the octave.

To obtain exactness, the tips of some of the reeds have a tiny bit of

beeswax, loading them to the degree of the slower movement of vibration

which the artist’s ear demands.

The plate itself is fixed on the point of the bamboo plug by

beeswax,—nothing more; so simple and efficient is this primitive

construction, yet answering every purpose of the musician. At the

twelve ends are the names of the notes in gold, stamped in Japanese

characters; but these the engraver has not attempted, lest unknowingly

some bend or twist or dot might be such as to give some signification

not fit for ears polite: for we are aware in our own language how the

omission or insertion of a single vowel may alter the whole meaning

and be a source of lamentable error. The pipes turn on the copper rod,

permitting either end of each pipe to be brought round to the lips as

wanted. The reeds only sound by suction: you draw the breath through,

and that sets the reed vibrating and sounding, whilst the note on

an instrument is being tuned. To blow through on to the reeds would

horrify the native musician, because the moisture of the breath would

lodge and injure the durability of the reed. To have a set of pipes

as these, is as it would be to us if we had a dozen tuning forks in a

case to tune our pianos by for ourselves. All the stringed instruments

in Japan require to be properly tuned every time they are played; so

one can appreciate the utility of this pretty little companion in

its simple case, and dagger fastening all complete for the pocket.

Or, as one should say, for the sleeve; since it is the sleeve that

is the receptacle for all the odds and ends, the impedimenta, which

civilization carries with it in every land.

The scale as nearly as we can represent it is:—

A Sharp Fourth.

+———————————+

D, E♭, E, F♯, G, G♯, A♭, A, B♭, B, C, C♯.

+——————————————-+

* *

A Flat Fourth.

We must not look at these as we do at our fourths and fifths. The

intention in the scale is that the player, according as he is going

_up or down_, should by _some traditional rule_ be able to substitute

a sharp interval for a flat one. Thus, he takes in the course of his

melody a flat fourth D to G, or by taking G♯ gets a sharp fourth; or

again a flat fifth from C♯ down to G; and the flat fourth B down to

to F♯ seems a favourite essential interval. We should remember that

the harmony or concord is confined to octaves, fourths and fifths, and

that, the tones of the instruments being faint and quickly vanishing,

a mistuned fourth or fifth is little worse than perfect intervals. The

sharp thirds are not unpleasant, but have a peculiar breezy effect

heard upon the _Sheng_, and the Sho.

There is a great tendency in Eastern scales to make flat fourths and

sharp fifths. This same flat fourth is given by my set of Chinese

bells, and I remember how Sir F. Gore Ouseley caught it instantly when

he heard it. He had the keenest ear for pitch that I ever met. The

A and A♭ depart from our relation of pitch. But the Japanese are so

accustomed to freedom in altering their scales that the _Koto_, though

tuned accurately, is during playing altered to the passing fancy of

the player, who is allowed to pull the strings below the bridge or to

press them just as the moment dictates, sharpening or flattening any

interval. The classical scales used in religious and royal ceremonials

and the popular scales are quite distinct, which shows how in course of

time the music itself has changed.

My bells above named give F♯, A, B, C♯; the F♯ to C♯ making a fifth,

the F♯ to B making a flat fourth, the A to C♯ a sharp major third. We

may reckon bells to be true carriers of pitch, scarcely, if anything,

affected by age.

Mr. A. J. Ellis traces the old Greek tetrachords in the Japanese

scales, and remarks upon one, “it is interesting to observe that

this _hiradio-shi_ scale, which consists of a tone and two conjunct

tetrachords, each divided approximately into a semitone and its

defect from a fourth, presents us with a survival of the oldest Greek

tetrachord. Perhaps Olympos himself tuned no better than the Japanese

musician I heard.” He also infers that the pentatonic scale was later

than that of the tetrachord. He says “that China and Japan introduced

nothing new beyond the original limitation of the scale to five notes,

which arose in fact from divisions of tetrachords _into two parts

only_. For instance, a semitone and major third, like those of Olympos

(whose very division we find in the popular music of Japan), or else

into a tone and a minor third; the thirds arising in each case as

defects of the first interval of a fourth. Such tetrachords were then

either conjunct or disjunct; but they were always capable of being

completed into Greek scales, as has been actually done in Japan and

China. On the other hand, Japan at least, and China also, have attained

a system of twelve more or less exact equal semitones.”

The Japanese have twelve semitones to the octave, as the Chinese have,

the root of their civilization being the same. But in music ancient

equal temperament and modern equal temperament are not quite the same

thing; nevertheless, the approachments come very near. The scale,

however, is not used to play music proceeding by semitones, but is used

for the purpose of transposition of melody to high or low position,

which changes never trespass beyond a range of fourteen sounds for such

melody. Our necessity for equal temperament arose in like manner from

the desire for transposition, but it was for the needs of harmony.

This distinction we should never forget when considering Eastern

systems of music. Moreover, our modern method of counting from the low

note upwards seems to be an inversion of the more primitive method,

which proceeded from above downward. Hence when the fourth below was

taken it has been our custom to assume that the note was obtained as

a fifth upwards from the octave note below, and much confusion of

interpretation has resulted therefrom. There is a significant passage

in Mr. A. J. Ellis’s notes to Helmholtz:

The fact that the Greek scale was derived from the

tetrachord or divisions of the fourth, and _not_ the

fifth, leads me to suppose that the tuning was founded on

the fourth, not the fifth.... It is most convenient for

modern habits of thought to consider the series as one of

fifths; but I wish to draw attention to the fact that in

all probability it was historically a series of fourths.

I often had arguments with Mr. Ellis upon these points, and after the

study of Arabic and Persian scales for his comparative examination of

“The Musical Scales of Various Nations” he came at last to the same

conclusion. The fourth always seemed to me the most naturally selected

interval for the origin of the primitive scales. It prevails in Arabia,

Persia, China, and the East generally.

The instrument which is here illustrated is Japanese, and is called a

clarinet on account of the similarity in the relation of its sounds,

its second series being 12ths, not octaves. The most noticeable

peculiarity of the little instrument is its reed, which is as broad

as the tip of our bassoon reed; but unlike that, is broader at the

bass end, which is inserted in the pipe (as you will understand by the

drawing, which shows the reed cut through at mid-section).

The vibrating portion is at the tip, to the extent downward of three

eighths of an inch, which evidently has been pinched together and then

dried in some particular way. The two lips from the centre expand

outwardly under moisture, and leave a fine ovate opening, which, under

the suction of the passing stream of air closes, and then reopens by

its own elasticity. The reed does not consist of two separate parts

bound together, but is itself tubular, its diameter at the bottom

being three eighths of an inch.

Then a little clip of cane with bound ends forms a ligature to keep

the lips of the reed in proper relation during blowing; and as it is

pressed down tightly or loosely, affects in some degree the pitch. Also

the lower end of the reed is bound with a strip of soft paper, where it

fits into the pipe; and so, whether it is allowed to be set far into

the pipe or not, will likewise affect the pitch considerably. This will

account for some discrepancies in the statements as to the normal pitch

of the _Hichi-riki_. Again, in China, the same kind of instrument is

found differing in length, and having the name _Kwan-tze_, The Japanese

instrument is no doubt a refined copy of the Chinese model, which

itself is so ancient that it may have been brought from some region

of the Caucasus. My own instrument measures in pipe length 8in., and

with the reed fitted in, 9-1/8in. In the Brussels Museum, one is noted

which is 8-5/8in. in pipe length, and the lowest note is F; but this

instrument has another thumb hole between the third and fourth holes

in addition to the hole which appears in my pipe between the sixth and

seventh hole.

The pipe also, it should be remarked, is not cylindrical, but in a

musical sense is more so; since, by its being a cone inverted, the

flattening influence of form on the pitch is increased. As it was in

the old German flute, which, like this, was an inverted cone, and so

conduced to the better production of the lowest notes.

The scale of the _Hichi-riki_, on the authority of the Musical

Institute of Tokio, is given with the following tablature:—

[Illustration]

The open pipe length for the lowest note would therefore be twice the

length of this pipe, so we say that the _Hichi-riki_ speaks double

depth tone. And when blown with higher pressure, the first series

of harmonics is not one of octaves, but of twelfths. An interesting

circumstance is that when a smaller reed such as we use for the oboe is

inserted, then the tone leaps a fourth (not an octave) higher, and its

harmonic series is one of octave relation; in fact, it is the original

twelfth acting, slightly modified by being elicited by a smaller reed,

and hence emphasizing the compound nature of results from pipe and reed

associated. With one reed, I remember that the pipe rose a fifth, its

twelfth being then really transfigured only, yet becoming its octave,

being, as elicited, the same note.

Another curious fact connected with the _Hichi-riki_ is that—if the

upper end of the pipe is placed full within the mouth, and is blown

through without any reed whatever, and without any action of the

lips—clear and powerful notes are elicited, varied as the openings

of the holes are varied; provided one of the upper holes is left

open. Then the pitch of the issuing notes corresponds to such as are

calculated according to the length between the distant holes as an

open pipe length. It is, further, indifferent whether the end of wide

diameter or that of narrow diameter is taken into the mouth; either way

sounds are readily produced. The upper finger hole thus corresponds to

the twelfth hole in the clarionet—according to the argument upon this

question in a previous chapter—and the length of pipe above it is to be

disregarded.

Within my knowledge there is no other pipe instrument that, blown

through, will produce sound in this fashion with no visible vibrating

agent. It appears reasonable to estimate that the air issuing from the

upper hole takes upon itself the vibratory action of a reed or lamina;

and very likely the shape of the hole (which is a long oval), and the

thinness of the substance of the tube (which is cane or bamboo), may

both be favourable to such action. The instrument is very simple, yet

it is of beautifully finished workmanship, and is altogether curious

and interesting.

This illustration shows the cap of the reed of the _Hichi-riki_

separately. The cap is merely a piece of soft wood very deftly hollowed

to fit the reed, and the curves of the opening will show you the shape

that is presented by the tip of the reed which the cap is intended to

preserve. The two lips have during playing absorbed moisture, and have

expanded to the shape shown in these curves; but immediately after

playing the cap is placed on the tips, and then these lips in drying

set together in a pressed form, as two straight lines closely adhering,

again taking the curvature as soon as moistened. We often find

reed instruments with caps and covers, but rarely I think fulfilling

this office of preserving the form in suitable state in which the

reed is best left to dry gradually. The caps upon the old cromornes,

pibgorns, and stockpipes, although they tended to preserve the

reeds, were otherwise different in purpose, being used to convey

air to the reed, which was not placed in the mouth. Compared with

modern instruments, these Japanese instruments are very simple;

but there is a wonderful sense of fitness about the arrangements,

and the workmanlike finish of the instruments makes the handling of

them delightful.

[Illustration: _This oval indicates the thumbhole at the back._

_Clarionet of the Japanese, called the Hichi-riki._

_Cap of Reed._

_Section of the Reed._

_Fig. 33._]

Three reeds are provided for each pipe, and the reeds are each

differently cut at the tip; one being cut straight at the edge, another

with curved margin, another almost semicircular; the object being to

cause variety in the quality of tone,—one being suited for songs of

martial character, another for dance, another for songs of love.

It is noteworthy that the oval hole is preferred by eastern peoples.

The Greek _auloi_ preserved in the British Museum possess oval holes,

as do the pipes of Egypt, the _arghool_ pipes, the Lady Maket pipes;

and in truth the oval is the form naturally derived by cutting upon a

circular surface, and it is also well adapted to the fingers; nothing

but a formality for elaborating could have induced the modern habit

of making round holes. Primitive instruments were often so played as

that the holes were covered, not by the tips of the fingers but by

the fleshy part of the second joint of the finger, as may be seen at

the present day among the rural population of Italy and Spain. In the

grand work on Egypt (fifteen folio volumes) published by order of

Napoleon the First, this same instrument is depicted full size, with

section of reed and all details, and is given as a native Egyptian

instrument.

From a recent publication by “The Egypt Exploration Fund” I find that

a six-holed pipe has been discovered in a temple in Egypt (Diospolis

Parva), made from the horn of some small deer, and very possibly was

of this kind, although from the imperfect state of the mouthpiece we

cannot say for certain, and this pipe is as old as about 1500 B.C. The

photograph of it shows the same peculiarity of form of tube, the lower

end being of the smaller diameter, and the indications to the expert

eye are that a reed set up the vibrations. So the type is undoubtedly

Egyptian, and we see how natural it was to derive the inverted cone

form of tube from the adaptation of the horn.

At the same time it would accord with the view I have taken of the

common source of origin of the Chinese and Egyptians, to consider this

instrument to have been developed by the Egyptians independently, and

the Chinese to have developed theirs, alike from some prototype common

to both at an early prehistoric era.

The Japanese seem to have carried the workmanship of their instruments

to a higher degree of refinement than the Chinese, and to have a much

keener musical perception, and a sense of the fitness and relation of

things in art and mechanism.

You will remember that in describing the reeds of the Japanese pitch

pipes, I likened the delicate upward bend of the dainty little reeds

to the curve of my ladye’s eyelashes; well, I can find no truer

similitude, and you would say so if you saw them,—the reeds, I mean,

not the eyelashes, which must be left to imagination. The practical

purport of the device is what I would have you notice, because it

shows the intuitive sense of fitness which guided the designer; for

the tongue is so curved upward that it will not reverse and bend

the opposite way as the flat reed does. Thus it is secure against

fluctuations of pitch, a very requisite provision, since in this case

each pipe is designed to be sounded alone, and is subjected to the full

force of whatever suction may be brought to bear upon it. A small reed

of straight tongue could not be relied upon for pitch under such a

stress: hence experience taught the designer by a happy device how to

secure the end he had in view.

In Japan, we find the _Sho_, which is there a national instrument, is

practically the same as the _Sheng_, only differing in that two of the

mute pipes are made available to extend the scale, and that there is a

little humouring in the pitch, probably from a familiarity with modern

equal temperament; because this is, after all, only a reversion to a

system with which scholastically their teachers were well acquainted in

theory.

The _Sho_ maintains its traditional office in ritual and in ceremonial

affairs, and its scale, with little differences, is the same as that of

the _Sheng_: hence we may infer that the tunes in use, which have been

handed down from a very early date, are common to both.

The Japanese recognise in their music two systems, the classical and

the popular, and these are in everyday use. The scales are essentially

traditional, and are kept quite distinct. In the main they are Chinese,

as also are the instruments; yet there is a strange mingling of the

ancient and the modern in everything connected with the Japanese. In

art, the Japanese are undoubtedly superior to the Chinese; the _Sho_

that I once had and gave to a friend was most beautifully made, and

in every particular delightfully finished. A large Japanese _Koto_, a

thirteen stringed instrument that I possess, is a marvel of beauty,

with lovely lac pictures running along the sides, and inlays of ivory

and tortoiseshell and variegated woods in thousands of pieces, silver

bosses, bronze dragons, and silk tassels, altogether a delight to the

eye. The _Koto_ of Japan, though carried to more artistic perfection,

is the same in construction as the musical instrument called the _Sê_

in China, and will be found further described in the section given to

the Chinese Kin, the favourite of Confucius.

The Japanese have several other instruments both of the wind and string

classes, but only those which I have introduced seem tributary to the

purpose of this treatise.

The World's Earliest Music Traced to Its Beginnings in Ancient Lands by Collected Evidence of Relics, Records, History, and Musical Instruments from Greece, Etruria, Egypt, China, Through Asyria and Babylonia, to the Primitive Home, the Land of Akkad and Sumer · 第 18 / 27 章