Ha Thi Cau recallsdays past when she
would travel the country
singing "hat xam" melodies
At 86, respected artisan Ha Thi Cau is finally saying goodbye to a lifetime of singing the songs of the poor.
For Cau, a nomadic life of singing is coming to an end.
At 86-years-old, it’s time to settle she says, despite the fact that her voice remains strong and captivating – just like it was when she first began to sing Hat xam music nearly 78 years ago.
Hat xam is a traditional Vietnamese style of singing – specifically performed by the poor and the blind.
It is thought to have first begun during the Tran dynasty in the 13th century.
According to historical accounts, Tran Quoc Dinh, the son of King Tran Thanh Tong, was made blind by his brother in an act of jealous rage.
Afterwards, Dinh – who loved to sing – decided to invent a style of instrument that could give a deep and mournful sound to accompany his voice.
He managed to create a unique type of violin that had just two strings.
Most hat xam songs told the unhappy fate of the poor or satirize the wrongdoings of corrupt rulers.
The musicians, often member of the same family, would wander from street to street with their two-stringed violin (dan nhi) and bamboo castanets.
They lived off of tips dropped by those passing by.
On a recent winter day while sitting in her small house in Yen Mo, Ninh Binh, Cau sadly recalled the songs of the past.
She misses them dearly, she says.
Her career began when Cau was just eight years old.
Back then, she used to go by the name Ha Thi Nam.
Little Cau would escort her father and blind mother, traversing Nam Dinh Province performing at several of the village markets.
It didn’t take her long to memorize the songs’ lyrics, and she even began practicing the refined two-stringed violin techniques of her mother.
At 12, Cau started drinking and chewing betel which she attributes to her voice becoming deeper and more sorrowful.
Everywhere she went, people were captivated with Cau’s melodies and her unique style of violin-plucking.
After her father passed away when she was 16, Cau and her mother relocated to Yen Mo, Ninh Binh, and it was where she met the district’s hat xam icon, Nguyen Van Mau.
“I think he must have put a love spell on me because I was 16 and decided to marry a 49-year-old man,” Cau jokes about her subsequent marriage to Mau.
Mau, blind from small-pox, had been living with 17 women but Cau accepted his offer and became the 18th to join his family.
“I wasn’t that pretty,” she laughs.
“In the old days, the men who performed xam songs were very popular and adored by women.”
Following the marriage, Cau continued a nomadic life with Mau and one of his wives.
Together, they journeyed from Tuyen Quang Province to Thai Nguyen, Nghe An and Ha Tinh.
Sadly, Mau became jealous, thinking she was flirting with passers-by as she sang to them.
He became abusive but Cau says she never thought of leaving him.
They had shared too many experiences together and had seen hat xam melodies grow into a true art form.
Yet eventually, when Cau turned 40, Mau left.
Not knowing what else to do, she continued singing in Yen Mo to support her and Mau’s three children.
These days, Cau is supported by her daughter’s family.
“I was so sick recently,” she recalls.
“My niece visited and borrowed my string instrument to practice her singing.
I gave it to her because I can’t sing often these days anyway.”
Though Cau was never granted an official title, most who know her insist she is a true artisan of hat xam and the songs of the sorrowful.
Reported by Ngoc Minh
For Cau, a nomadic life of singing is coming to an end.
At 86-years-old, it’s time to settle she says, despite the fact that her voice remains strong and captivating – just like it was when she first began to sing Hat xam music nearly 78 years ago.
Hat xam is a traditional Vietnamese style of singing – specifically performed by the poor and the blind.
It is thought to have first begun during the Tran dynasty in the 13th century.
According to historical accounts, Tran Quoc Dinh, the son of King Tran Thanh Tong, was made blind by his brother in an act of jealous rage.
Afterwards, Dinh – who loved to sing – decided to invent a style of instrument that could give a deep and mournful sound to accompany his voice.
He managed to create a unique type of violin that had just two strings.
Most hat xam songs told the unhappy fate of the poor or satirize the wrongdoings of corrupt rulers.
The musicians, often member of the same family, would wander from street to street with their two-stringed violin (dan nhi) and bamboo castanets.
They lived off of tips dropped by those passing by.
On a recent winter day while sitting in her small house in Yen Mo, Ninh Binh, Cau sadly recalled the songs of the past.
She misses them dearly, she says.
Her career began when Cau was just eight years old.
Back then, she used to go by the name Ha Thi Nam.
Little Cau would escort her father and blind mother, traversing Nam Dinh Province performing at several of the village markets.
It didn’t take her long to memorize the songs’ lyrics, and she even began practicing the refined two-stringed violin techniques of her mother.
At 12, Cau started drinking and chewing betel which she attributes to her voice becoming deeper and more sorrowful.
Everywhere she went, people were captivated with Cau’s melodies and her unique style of violin-plucking.
After her father passed away when she was 16, Cau and her mother relocated to Yen Mo, Ninh Binh, and it was where she met the district’s hat xam icon, Nguyen Van Mau.
“I think he must have put a love spell on me because I was 16 and decided to marry a 49-year-old man,” Cau jokes about her subsequent marriage to Mau.
Mau, blind from small-pox, had been living with 17 women but Cau accepted his offer and became the 18th to join his family.
“I wasn’t that pretty,” she laughs.
“In the old days, the men who performed xam songs were very popular and adored by women.”
Following the marriage, Cau continued a nomadic life with Mau and one of his wives.
Together, they journeyed from Tuyen Quang Province to Thai Nguyen, Nghe An and Ha Tinh.
Sadly, Mau became jealous, thinking she was flirting with passers-by as she sang to them.
He became abusive but Cau says she never thought of leaving him.
They had shared too many experiences together and had seen hat xam melodies grow into a true art form.
Yet eventually, when Cau turned 40, Mau left.
Not knowing what else to do, she continued singing in Yen Mo to support her and Mau’s three children.
These days, Cau is supported by her daughter’s family.
“I was so sick recently,” she recalls.
“My niece visited and borrowed my string instrument to practice her singing.
I gave it to her because I can’t sing often these days anyway.”
Though Cau was never granted an official title, most who know her insist she is a true artisan of hat xam and the songs of the sorrowful.
Reported by Ngoc Minh
