Budismo y Musica

Buddhism and Music
Author(s): Ian W. Mabbett

Source: Asian Music, Vol. 25, No. 1/2, 25th Anniversary Double Issue (1993 - 1994), pp. 9-28
Published by: University of Texas Press
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Volume XXV,
1-2 ASIAN MUSIC 1993/1994
BUDDHISM AND MUSIC
by
Ian W. Mabbett
There is
scarcely any religious
denomination on the face of
the earth in whose sacred ceremonies music holds a more
prominent
place
than Buddhism (Wellesz
1957).1
On the face of
it,
when we consider the essentials of
Buddhism,
this is
strange
if true. It
may
well be true. Therefore it is worth
considering why,
in some forms of Buddhism at
least,
music should be
so
important
in
spite
of the austere character of the
original
Buddhist
message,
which
regarded
the
ephemera
of life in the world as a
distraction from the serious business of
seeking
salvation.
It is
notoriously
difficult to
generalize
about the essentials of
Buddhism.
Any attempt
to reduce them to a formula can be criticised
for
missing
the
point,
which is
incapable
of
being captured by any
formula. It is like
trying
to catch electrons with a
trawling
net.
However,
it is
enough
for the
present purpose
to
identify
one of the
ideas which has been most
obviously
distinctive of Buddhism from the
beginning
and in all
major
schools
-- the idea of
impermanence
(Sanskrit
Nnitya,
Pali anicca).
Nothing
in the
phenomenal
world lasts.
Life does not last. (Even the Buddha does not last
--
but it was not
long
before the devotion of the faithful found a
way
round
this,
and
Mahayana
Buddhism sanctified the virtual deification of the Buddha.)
All that is
permanent
is the
unconditioned,
the transcendent
(though
in
Mahayana
it is also
immanent),
the
ultimately
real and self-existent
solvent of all
fleeting
transient
natures,
and that
reality (though
even
the word
"reality"
has
only
a
provisional
and relative usefulness) is
Nirvana (Sanskrit
nirvffna,
Pali nibbJna).
This belief has
Implications
for art and music. The Buddha did
indeed
explicitly
renounce the extremes of
asceticism,
but he
urged
upon
his followers a life of
poverty
and
simplicity.
Those who could do
so were
expected
to forsake
family
life and become mendicants. In
the course of
time,
homeless
wandering
came to
occupy
a
relatively
small
part
of a monk's
career,
longer periods being spent
in
monasteries,
but the
discipline
of
monastery
life has
always been,
ideally, fairly strict and austere. In the old forest tradition claiming to
preserve
the
original
Buddhist
ways,
the focus of
religious activity
is
meditation in utter
quietness
and solitude. After all, reality
is not to
10
Asian
Music, 1993/1994
be found
among
the
impermanent things
of life in the world. There is
no room here for
gorgeous displays,
for
magnificentia
in the
mediaeval Christian
sense,
for the dedication of
devoutly
nurtured
artistic talents to the
glorification
of the divine.
For several centuries after his
lifetime,
a
prohibition upon
the
presentation
of the Buddha in art was observed
by
the
community
of
his followers. It was not until the first two centuries
A.D.,
when the
new movement of
Mahayana
rose to
prominence,
that this
prohibition
was
put
aside,
and the
image
of the Buddha became the
centerpiece
of
iconography,
in the old schools as well as in
Mahayana.
Such
artistic self-denial must remind us of
Islam,
where
prohibitions upon
religious
art
were,
and still
are,
more
encompassingly
insisted
upon,
so that the
genius
of the artistic
temperament,
denied frank
representational expression
in association with
religious
architecture
or
teaching,
has to find an outlet in an exuberance of abstract
ornamentation and foliate scrollwork.
The
comparison
with Islam is
useful,
because in
Islam,
which is
distinctly
more severe in its
original temperament
than
Buddhism,
music nevertheless succeeded in
finding
a
place
--
not, indeed,
in the
highly
cerebral
proceedings
of the
mosque,
but in the
religious
practices
of the Sufi
mystics
as well as those
inspired by
them. Such
people
listened to music and
poetry
as a
technique
of
ecstasy.
This
technique,
called
sama',
could be
very potent.
On one
occasion,
according
to
tradition,
the dismembered
body
of a
prince
was
magically
reassembled and
brought
to life
by
sama';
on
another,
a
thirteenth-century king organized
a ritual sama' to
bring
rain. All
pains
could be cured
by
music and
poetry, particularly
the
pain
of
love (Baldick 1989: f. 99).
Perhaps
there is a central Asian shamanistic
influence here (hinted at
by
the association with
rain-making);
an
influence from the same sort of
environment,
conducive to the
development
of shamanistic forms of
religion, may
well be at work in
the evolution of Buddhism in Tibet.
Buddhist music in Tibet is indeed
receiving
more and more
scholarly
attention;
so is Buddhist music in
Japan,
and it is from these
two
places
that most of the illustrative material will be drawn here.
What has not been much considered is the broad
religious
context for
Buddhist music in
general.
There is therefore room for an account of
this
context,
in
general terms,
which will
be
offered here. The
following
discussion will also
give
some
emphasis
to two themes: a) the
Mabbett: Buddhism and Music 11
specifically
sacramental character which music can
possess
as a
means of direct access to the
sacred,
and b) an endorsement of the
importance
of tantric Buddhism in the
spread
of Buddhist music
along
with other
aspects
of
religious
culture.
Given the
original
character of Buddhism as indicated
above,
we can now ask how music has come to
play
such an
important part
in
some Buddhist
countries,
and what
particular religious
functions it
performs.
What follows
is, first,
a sketch of the different attitudes to
the transcendent which
may
determine the characteristics of
religious
activities,
and of the
ways
in which music
may
become involved in
these activities. We shall then see how these different attitudes
roughly correspond
to the main branches of Buddhism. Then a
taxonomy
of the functions of music in Buddhist
religious
life will be
offered,
each function
finding
its
place
in at least one mode of
approach
to the transcendent in Buddhism.
It is a merit of the continental tradition of
synchronic analysis,
from which
grew
both structuralism and the
history
of
religions
as
propounded by
such scholars as M. Eliade (1954) and P. Mus
(1935),2
that it offers us a
perspective
from which we can
recognize
certain
features common to all
major religions
that
help
to define them. (There
are demerits to this tradition
too,
no
doubt,
but we are not concerned
with those here.)
Religions
direct their attention to an ultimate sacred
reality,
whether it is called The
One,
or The
Absolute,
or
God,
or
Brahma,
or (as is
effectively
the case with Buddhism)
Nirvana.
Access
to this ultimate
reality
--
let us call it the
transcendent,
although
for
some
purposes
this is
misleading
-
is the
goal
of
religious activity.
A
line divides the
profane
or
phenomenal
world from the sacred or
transcendent,
a line which normal
practical activity
is
powerless
to
cross.
Religious techniques, then,
are those that establish a conduit
by
which,
temporarily,
the line between the two realms is breached and
contact is made with the transcendent. The
conduit,
it is
important
to
emphasize,
can take
any
of
many
different forms in
correspondence
with the manifold varieties of
religious aspiration.
It
may
be a
liturgy,
the
acquisition
of
virtue,
the
reading
of
scriptures,
the
making
of a
sacrifice,
yogic meditation,
a shamanistic
dance,
or
any
other sort of
activity
whatsoever which
may
be
thought capable
of
transcending
the
phenomenal
world. It
may
be,
for
example,
sama',
listening
to
poetry
and music. Whatever form the conduit
takes,
it is essential to
realize
that,
for those who believe in its
efficacy,
it is a means
by
which
actual, not
merely symbolic,
access to the transcendent
may
be
12 Asian
Music, 1993/1994
achieved;
its function is thus
specifically
and
uncompromisingly
sacramental.
It will be useful here to
apply
Weber's threefold classification
of attitudes to the
transcendent,
for
these,
despite
their
superficially
artificial-seeming
character,
genuinely help
us to
recognize
distinct
religious
mentalities which are embodied in different forms of
Buddhism as of other
religions.
Of
these,
the first is the attitude that finds the transcendent in
a sense of awe and wonder. It is touched
by
the sacred as it is
immanent in nature or in the environment created
by
the
liturgy.
It is
expressed
in the observance of
ritual,
in the maintenance of traditions
which are believed to have the
contagion
of the
sacred,
in the
cultivation of a sense of
looming mystery.
The second is the attitude that finds the transcendent in
thought.
It can be either more or less rational
thought;
either
way
it
is directed to the hard
categories
of verbal
teaching
--
laws,
precepts,
books,
proverbs,
the Word of God. This is
typically
the
austere
mentality
that turns
away
from the
polluting
or
ungodly things
of the
profane
world.
The third is the attitude that finds the transcendent in
religious
emotion. It seeks the
uplift
of
inspiring
teachers or
gurus
with charismatic
powers,
or the
joyful
catharsis of ecstatic devotion
to a
unique
and
personalized divinity,
as in the bhakti cults of India. It
expresses
itself in exuberant
worship,
in acts of
glorification
which
may
take whatever medium best serves to enhance the sense of
magnificence
or
uplift.
There is an obvious sacramental role for music
here,
but it is not the
only place
where music can fit.
These three mentalities or
styles may
be visualized as the
points
of a
triangle
on which
any particular religious
sect, community
or movement can be
plotted according
to its characteristic beliefs and
behaviour. Some such entities have
highly
distinctive characters which
demand that
they
be
plotted
close to one
point
of the
triangle.
Most,
though,
have different
proportions
of more than one
style,
and
may
need to be
placed
somewhere within the
triangle
or
along
the line or
axis
joining
two of the
points.
At first we
may
be
tempted
to
plot
whole
religions
on our
grid,
but the
judgements thereby represented
would be
impossibly
over-
simple.
However clear-cut
may
be the outlook of a
particular
founder,
prophet,
or
teacher,
a world
religion necessarily
comes to
incorporate
within itself a
great variety
of outlooks and to
satisfy
a full
range
of
psychological
needs.
Nevertheless,
the
grid
can
produce remarkably
interesting
results when it is
applied,
for
example,
to
particular
Christian
denominations,
or to the architecture and
liturgy
of
particular churches,
as has been shown
by
G. Bouma (n.d.). The
altar,
the
pulpit,
and the
organ represent
the three
styles,
and the
degree
of
prominence
of the
organ
is often a reliable
guide
to the orientation
of a church to charisma and emotion.
All these
general
considerations make it
easy
to see how we
may
view
contrasting
attitudes to the
religious
use of music in
Buddhism,
for the three main branches of Buddhism lend themselves
readily
to an accomodation to Weber's three
types. Firstly,
the
early
schools founded in ancient
times,
which came to be known
collectively
as the
Hinayana
("Lesser
Vehicle"),
and of which the Theravada
school survives as the dominant tradition in Sri Lanka and Southeast
Asia,
preserves
a
relatively
austere
scripture-oriented style
of
religion;
Theravadins are
proud
of the
purity
of the
teachings
enshrined in their
books,
which are believed to contain the
original
precepts
of the Buddha. Here we see the
primacy
of the word. In
Theravada
countries,
the
emphasis
in
religious activity
is
didactic;
the
phenomenal
world is
regarded
as
ephemeral,
and
absorption
in its
pleasures,
artistic or
otherwise,
is seen as an obstacle on the
path
to
enlightenment.
Music has no
liturgical
function where the mainstream
urban or "Great Tradition" culture is
strong.3
Secondly,
the rise of the
Mahayana
("Great Vehicle") in the
first two centuries A.D.
represents
the infusion into Buddhism of an
outlook more consonant with the
spirit
of submission to a
personal
object
of
worship.
The Buddha comes to be seen not as a mortal man
who
escaped
from the
cycle
of rebirth and crossed over into
Nirvana;
the Lotus
Sutra,
popular
in
Mahayana countries,
consecrates him as
an eternal
being
and in effect makes him a
god
accessible to the
humble
worshipper.
An elaborate
pantheon
of Buddhas and
angelic
future Buddhas comes to be
worshipped.
Abstract virtues are
personalized, taking
form as deities. The doctrines of
grace
and divine
compassion acquire
a far
greater prominence
than ever
they
had in
the old
Hinayana
schools.
Mahayana originated
in India but
spread
14 Asian Music 1993/1994
overland to
China, Korea, Vietnam, Tibet,
and
Japan.
In these
countries,
charismatic deities and charismatic leaders of
sects,
including notably popular
millenarian
sects,
gave
an emotional flavour
to Buddhism. It is evident
that,
where this
very
different
temper
prevails,
we
may expect
music to take its natural
part
as an
adjunct
to
worship.
Thirdly,
an
important
division of Buddhism is constituted
by
the
influence
upon
it of
Tantra,
a tradition characterized
by rigorous
mental
disciplines,
ecstatic
techniques,
and elaborate rituals
which,
from about the seventh
century
onwards,
generated
distinctive sects
in Hinduism as well as
Buddhism;
its chief centre of influence was in
the northeast of India. Tantric Buddhism is sometimes seen as an
offshoot of
Mahayana
(its
activity
has been
conspicuous
in
Mahayana
countries),
but sometimes it is classified as a third division in its own
right,
the
Vajrayana
or
Mantrayana.
It is characterized
by
its
preoccupation
with
powerful
sacred
energies
that are felt to be
immanent in this
world;
it deals in
mystery,
in secret
doctrines,
in
intense mental
disciplines,
in
awe-inspiring liturgies,
and cabalistic
rituals which
tap
in to the sacred
energies
and
lay
bare the short
routes to Nirvana.
Now,
any
scheme of classification which
puts high
church
Anglicanism
in a
compartment
with this tantric
religion may
seem,
to a
sensitive
soul,
to have
something necessarily wrong
with it.
Nevertheless,
a coherent
religious programme
that works
through
ritual and a sense of a divine
presence operates
in both cases. It is
characterized
by
an orientation to the transcendent as a
mystery
which can be made real and
present
in the sacramental
act,
and
hence to the
importance
of the
sacrament,
which is the focus of
activity
and
which,
to be
effective,
must be
approached
in the
right
spirit
and
in
obedience to a fixed tradition. The influence of tantra in
the
history
of
Buddhism,
though
not well documented and
easily
overlooked,
is
likely
to have been
profound.
It is
likely
to have been
particularly
active in the formative
stages
of Buddhism in Tibet and
Japan,
the two
places
where Buddhist music has
obviously played
an
integral part.
In both these
places,
the
importation
and
early
development
of Buddhism coincided with
great
centuries of tantra.
To
anyone
familiar with the
complexity
and
subtlety
of the
forms taken
by
Buddhist belief and
practice
in the course of its
long
history,
the
application
of this threefold scheme must seem
hopelessly
inadequate.
Most forms of
religious
behaviour are in fact manifested
in countries of
any
Buddhist
persuasion;
research
increasingly
makes
obvious the influence of devotional and ritual
styles
of
practice
in the
real-life
popular
Buddhism of Theravada
countries,
whatever the
scriptures may say.
Further,
there would be a
good
case for
arguing
that the
triangular map
cannot contain the
aspirations
of the
original
Buddhism of the Buddha
himself,
so far as we can
guess
at this --
perhaps
it should be
represented by
a circle around the
triangle
and
not
touching
it at
any point,
to indicate that it shunned all three
styles
of
activity. (Nirvana
cannot be
encompassed by any
mere
ritual,
or
any
verbal
conception,
or
any
form of emotional attachment.) It is
therefore
important
to realize that what is charted here is no more
than a characterization of
significant
tendencies that
give
the main
branches of Buddhism their distinctive
styles.
What now follows is a brief
taxonomy
of the functions of music
within this scheme. It will be seen that music can in fact
play
a
significant
role in
any
of the
styles
of
religious
life and hence in
any
of the branches of Buddhism.
1. As a Form of Notation
In
any
oral
tradition,
the words of a sacred text are learned
by
heart and recited from
memory
in the course of instruction or
ritual.
Any
means available to fix the words of a text and
preserve
it
from
corruption through faulty
transmission are built into the tradition
which contains it. In
India,
the
original
sacred texts of the Vedas
(Hindu revealed texts) were in
verse,
the metres of which were
effectively
a means
whereby
the words could be fixed. The
pupils
of
the brahmans learned the Vedic texts in versions which broke them
up
into
separate syllables
for ritual
chanting.
This chant can be seen as
having
a notational function. As Ter
Ellingson
observed,
"Buddhism
owes its continued existence to the
pre-Buddhist
Indian brahman
priests
who
discovered,
as members of other cultures have
discovered,
that musical vocalization
greatly
increases the
power
of
the mind to store and recall information" (n.d.:3). He mentions in
illustration of this
point
the
example
of a Buddhist monk
who,
looking
in a thick
book,
found at one
point
a
misprint,
and
proceeded
to make
the
required
correction after
chanting
a few lines to himself. The
memorized chant was a form of notation for the
storage
of the entire
book.
16 Asian
Music,
1993/1994
Early
Buddhist
scriptures
were not in
verse,
but
they
came to
be fixed
quite early
in the traditions of the different
schools;
they
exhibit
many
of the features of texts for memorizaton in an oral
culture. The most
complete scriptural
canon is that of the Theravada
school,
in
Pali,
retaining
its
liturgical
use in Sri Lanka and Southeast
Asia. The chants used on occasions when sections of the canon are
recited are
thought
to have an
origin
in ancient Indian Buddhism. In
former
times,
apotropaic
chants
(parittas)
were
employed
in
ceremonies
virtually
as
spells. Inscriptions
record the use of
parittas
at the courts of such
kingdoms
as Sukothai and
Pagan (Epigraphia
Birmanica: 1928:36).4
Thus,
even in a didactic tradition which
identifies itself
fairly explicitly
with the
scriptural
or intellectual
attitude to the
transcendent,
there is an
important place
for a musical
form as a sort of
template
or notation for the dhamma
(teaching).
Further,
we observe that the chant has been accorded a sacramental
value insofar as a
paritta
is a means of
transcending
the
profane
world and
enlisting spiritual energies.
These Theravada forms
originated primarily
from Sri Lanka
(though
Kanfic
was in ancient times also a
major
diffusion centre for
Theravada).
Mahayana
schools drew on traditions in other
parts,
and
it is
important
to notice that a common Indian
origin
has been
proposed
for the
superficially
dissimilar
styles
of notation for Buddhist
liturgical
chant used in Tibet and
Japan
in recent work
by
Ter
Ellingson
(n.d.).
The
Japanese
term for the
chant, shomyo,
translates
the Chinese
sheng-ming
("sound name"),
which in turn
represents
the
old Indian science known
by
the name of
?abdavidya,
"science of
sound,"
which was one of the five traditional studies in the curriculum
for learned brahman
priests.
The
shomyo
notation
is,
by
modern
Western
standards, relatively precise,
whereas the Tibetan form
appears
at first
sight
to be
vague
and
unscientific;
but
Ellingson
(n.d.)
argues
that in fact it is
extremely
well
adapted
to
represent
the
"subtle
patterns
of melodic contour" which
essentially
define the
character of each
piece.
There is thus a veiled
similarity
between the
Tibetan and
Japanese
notation
systems.
The use of drums and
trumpets
in both
places may similarly
attest a common Indian
origin,
with,
for
example,
tone colour indicated in the notation
by
vowels
subvocalized
by
the
trumpeter (Ellingson
n.d.:55).
The
argument
is
particularly
interesting
in the
weight
it
gives
to tantra as a vehicle for the transmission of Buddhist
practices.
The
foundations of Tibetan Buddhism were laid from the seventh and
eighth
centuries
on,
and it was
during
this
period
that the old schools
of the Red Hat sects took
shape. Among
these the most conservative
(and from one
point
of view
arguably
the least
authentically
Buddhist)
is the
Nyingma-pa
sect,
which is
very
tantric in nature. In
Japan,
tantra was
highly
visible in the
Singon
sect (founded
by
Kukai,
774-
835),
which used as a sacramental
technique
the
chanting
of mantras
or sacred
syllables
(Blofeld 1977).5 It was also an influence
upon
the
Tendai sect of Saicho (762-882; Tendai, from the Chinese T'ien-t'ai).
If we need to look to India for the similarities between
Japanese
and Tibetan musical
traditions,
it is worth
noting
that,
in the
late seventh
century,
the Chinese Buddhist monk I
Ch'ing reported
from his travels in India a new Indian Buddhist chant "intoned in a
long
monotonous note"
(I
Ch'ing
1896:156).
2. As an
Evangelical Technique
One can also associate with
any
form of
religious
tradition,
including
of
course,
in
principle,
the intellectual or
scriptural,
the use
of musical forms in the
popularization
of Buddhist lore
among laymen.
This
category
can best be considered to exclude the sacramental
function: music is used to direct the minds of the
faithful,
but is not
believed to have the inherent virtue of
transcending
the
phenomenal
world. (Thus the
Sufi
nama' does not come into this
category.)
Theravada does not in fact offer
conspicuous examples, though
we
may
note the Buddhist influence in such
things
as the
Kandyan
dances related to Buddhist festivals (Malm
1967:83),
but it is
easy
enough
to find them in
Mahayana
and
Vajrayana.
In
Tibet,
the
mystery plays
which used to attract
huge
concourses to
performances
in the
courtyards
of monasteries were surrounded with
pageant
and
ceremony
in which
every
sort of
musical
resource was used. Some of
this can be described as a means to attract and
prepare
the minds of
the
participants,
and thus
belongs
to the
present category.
It needs to
be
added, however,
that these
mystery plays
were felt to be much
more than entertainment or
allegory.
It was felt
that,
when
they
came
to a
climax,
they actually
made sacred and
potentially dangerous
energies
real and
present among
the actors and
spectators;
for the
moment,
ordinary space
and time were transcended. These
mystery
plays
therefore had other
roles,
which will need to noticed below in
other
categories.
18 Asian
Music, 1993/1994
In the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries in
Japan,
in the Samurai
age,
Noh
plays
furnish an
example
of the
evangelical
use of art forms
insofar as
they
had a semisacred character and a Buddhist
message
(Robertson and Stevens 1960:64). In
seventeenth-century
Kabuki
theatre,
similarly,
the woman dancer
O
Kuni
popularized
Buddhist
dances that were
performed
with an
accompaniment
of flute and drum
(ibid.:65).
In modern
Japanese
Buddhism,
music is a
prominent part
of
many religious
celebrations. The
birthday
of Nichiren (the thirteenth-
century
founder of an
aggressively
nationalistic brand of Buddhism) is
consecrated
by
a festival made vivid
by
the contributions of massed
bands.
Again,
Buddhist
teachings impregnate many
folk
songs,
especially
the wasan
genre. Pilgrims going
on
processions
to shrines
sing songs accompanied by
handbells and small
gongs (Malm
1959:71).6
In
Japan, wandering priests
of the Nichiren sect
might
use the
fan drum or ichiwa daiko to announce their
calling
as
they
sell
Buddhist texts and chant
prayers.
The head of the drum
might
be
decorated with
religious precepts,
so that one
might
consider the
beating
of it to have a function a little like that of the Tibetan
prayer
wheel. Insofar as this
interpretation
is
appropriate,
the
beating
of the
drum must be considered as a structural
part
of a ritual and needs to
be classed as such.
A
special subcategory
is
occupied by
music as summons to
ritual. It is not
strictly
sacramental; hearing
it does not of itself
generate spiritual energy
or
acquire
merit,
and it stands outside the
ritual
proper; yet
it marks the
boundary
of sacred
time,
just
as sima
stones mark the
boundary
of sacred
space.
Once across the
threshold,
one is in the
presence
of the numinous.
Japanese examples
include the
ringing
of the
big
hammered
bell,
the
densho,
which calls the faithful
to the Tendai
temple.
It is a reminder that salvation is an
urgent
business,
for its
chiming
is not the solemn
tolling
that rolls
majestically
across the
English countryside
of a
Sunday morning
-- it is a brazen
clangour
that reminded Malm
chiefly
of a
country
fire alarm (ibid.:68).
In a Zen
temple,
the summons to meditation
may
be made
by beating
a
wooden
board,
a
han,
with a mallet.
3. As
Cosmological Symbolism
It cannot be
emphasized
too
strongly that, in almost
any
traditional
religious
belief
system,
a
symbol
(whether it be an icon, a
ritual, a
story,
or
any encoding
of the sacred in human creation) is
much more than a
poetic
evocation or an intellectual reminder of the
thing symbolized.
It is a
way
of
making
it real and
present,
in a
wholly
literal sense. The world of the sacred transcends our
space
and
time;
if the
right
actions are
performed,
the whole of it can become
accessible at
any point
in our world and at
any
moment. The
action,
recitation,
or
object
which
successfully reproduces
the structure of
the sacred is like a radio receiver that is tuned in to a
signal
from
outside.
Thus,
simply by getting
the
symbolism right,
one
may
establish,
in however small a
way,
a conduit
through
which
spiritual
energy may
flow into us.
Take for
example
the
shakuhachi,
the
Japanese
flute
which,
despite
its secular
origin
and its sometimes bizarre
history,
has
acquired
an authentic status as an
adjunct
to Zen meditation. When
the instrument maker tells us about its cosmic
symbolism,
he is not
merely being
fanciful. It is a mirror of the structure of the universe.
The
straight-edged upper part,
which is fashioned from the free-
standing
bamboo
stem,
represents clarity, light,
the heavens (in
effect,
yang).
The
relatively rough
unformed
part
below,
the bamboo root
which comes from under the
ground,
is
mystery, formlessness,
darkness (in
effect,
yin).
The
historically significant
fact that this
shape
is
handy
as a club for the
belabouring
of one's enemies
is,
from
the
cosmological point
of
view,
irrelevant.
It will be
by
no means fanciful to see even more abstract
metaphysical
ideas embodied in Buddhist music. Let us remember that
a fundamental Buddhist
concept, implicit perhaps
in the
Hinayana
teaching
but
spelled
out and elaborated in
Mahayana,
is that of the
emptiness
or voidness of all the contents of our material
world;
they
are like
smoke,
or a
mirage,
or a
conjuring
trick. The void is a
very
powerful symbol
in Buddhism. We should therefore take careful note
when the
meaning
of the shakuhachi's
haunting
strains are described
to us: the sound
artfully
imitates the sounds of
artlessness,
of
nature,
like the
gentle soughing
of wind in the
pines
that
gently
breathes and
fades into the
encompassing
silence from which it came. (The
"unformed"
or "natural"
quality
of the sound
irresistibly
evokes the
oneness with nature that is at the heart of
Taoism;
and there is a
great
deal of Taoism in the Zen
spirit.)
Silence is the womb from
which all
being
comes. A shakuhachi maker and
player
seeks to
produce "sound,
woven with silence."7
20 Asian
Music,
1993/1994
In a Zen
temple,
the hours of the
day may
be marked
by
the
deep
sombre tones of the
big o-gane
bell in the bell
tower,
evoking
the idea of
impermanence
(Malm
1959:70).
Similarly,
and more
conspicuously,
it has
aptly
been observed
that Tibetan monastic
music,
with its sudden
"impressive
silences,"
(Waddell 1895:432)
produces
an emotional
impact
that cannot
help
evoking
the transition to the
Formless,
in effect the
abrupt opening
of
a vista
upon
Nirvana
itself.
It has
fairly
been observed that Tibetan Buddhist authorities
(in contrast to those of the
indigenous
Bon cult) did not
develop
a
specific cosmological theory
of music and instruments (Kartomi
1990:75-83,
n.b. 75).
Nevertheless,
Tibetan Buddhist culture is
saturated with
myths
that
supply
a
meaning
(and hence,
in the
authentically
sacred
sense,
a
symbolism)
for
practically everything;
cosmological
and
mythological
ideas
pervade
music
just
as
they
pervade
life. Take the
potent symbolism
of the thunderbolt (Tib.
dorje,
Sanskrit
vajra),
which
goes right
back to the
myth
of
Indra,
the
thunderbolt-wielding
Vedic
god
who slew the
cave-dwelling
demons of
infertility.
A
stylised
thunderbolt,
with four curved
prongs
symmetrically
at each
end,
is a familiar
part
of Tibetan ritual. Held in
the
right
hand,
it
represents
control, maleness,
order (much like the
Chinese
yang principle).
In the course of
ritual,
a monk will hold in his
left hand a small bell
(dril-bu),
the handle of which is like half a
dorje,
but
bearing
an
image
of
Prajfi"paramita,
the female
personification
of
wisdom. (The
Tibetan dril-bu is descended from the Indian
ghant.) (Robertson and Stevens 1960:71;
Sadie 1980:803). The combination of
these two
represents enlightenment.
Hermit monks who
ascetically
seek
enlightenment
in total isolation (sometimes walled
up
in caves for
periods
of
years)
would take with them a bell and a drum.
The
vajra
or thunderbolt is of fundamental
importance
in
tantra;
indeed tantric Buddhism is
commonly
called
Vajrayana.
Now,
we
may
recall
Ellingson's emphasis upon
the
likely
role of Indian
Buddhism,
operating particularly through
tantra,
in
transmitting
musical traditions to Tibet as well as
Japan.
The
similarity
of
notational forms which he uncovers is matched
by
similarities in other
things.
The small hand-bell or dril-bu used in
Tibet,
with its semi-
vajra
and its
Prajfinparamita,
is not
uniquely
Tibetan;
this fact is well
enough known, but it deserves to be
emphasized
how
strikingly
similar
is the
Japanese
incarnation of the same
thing,
for the
Japanese
rei
looks
just
like a combination of
dorje
and dril-bu
(Uhlig
1976:103;
Kishibe
1969:Fig.43).8
There is another sense in which Tibetan monastic instruments
are
regarded
as a sacramental
apparatus
to tune in to the radio
signals,
so to
speak,
of the Void. The
monk,
in
deep
meditation,
is
thought
to hear within himself
spiritual
sounds,
of
specific types,
which
only
he can hear. There is a well-known
theory matching
instruments with inner sounds. The frame
drum,
cymbals,
conch
horn,
small bell
(dril-bu), hourglass
drum (made from human
skullcaps),
double-reed
oboe, long trumpet
and
thigh-bone trumpet
are
thought
to
evoke,
respectively,
the
thudding, clashing, soughing, ringing, tapping,
moaning, deep moaning,
and
shrilling
that the
meditating
monk hears
within his
body.
The
point
does not need to be laboured that the
occult structure of the
microcosm,
the human
body,
here mirrors the
spiritual
forces of the universe.
4. As Ritual Framework
Here a distinction is
being
made between those
religious
elements whose
power
can be
explained by
reference to their
imitation of the occult structure of the cosmos
(i.e.,
in which
"symbolism"
can be
recognized,
as was examined in the
previous
section) and those that are
integral
to the
practice
of a ritual. This
distinction is a fine one. Insofar as
symbolism provides
a conduit for
sacred
power
to be
tapped,
it is itself a ritual
technique,
and insofar
as ritual
techniques tap
in to sacred
energy, they
must themselves
have
recognizably
sacred
qualities
which
give
them a
symbolic
dimension. For
example,
the clear
ringing
sound of the
kin,
a small
bowl which is struck at intervals in a Tendai
temple
ritual,
can
easily
be
thought
of as a
symbol
of Buddhist
purity,
but it is also a
punctuation
mark in the ritual and as such is a structural element.
Other bells are
similarly
used in the Tendai ritual
--
the
kei,
a small
hanging
chime;
the
rei,
noticed above
by
virtue of its resemblance to
the Tibetan
dril-bu, and,
at
major
transitions,
the knobbed
gong.
In
the Nichiren
service,
prayers
are beaten out on drums in an insistent
rhythm, leaving
"little chance of
drowsing"
(Malm 1959:70).
A chanted mantra is
clearly
a
powerful
ritual act in its own
right. Mantras,
most of them
single syllables
without
any meaning
in
normal
language,
are secret incantations
charged
with
spiritual
energy,
and
they play
an
important part
in tantric observances. Ter
22 Asian
Music,
1993/1994
Ellingson suggests
that the Tibetan Buddhist
chant,
broken
up
into
isolated
syllables
for the
liturgy, acquire
de facto the function of a
set of mantras: va
jra
sat tva
(Ellingson
n.d.).
Another tantric
technique
which finds its
way
into Buddhist
music is the
mudrJ,
the ritual hand
symbols
which
carry
esoteric
meaning according
to the
positions
of the
fingers.
An
interesting
proposal by
W. Kaufmann (1967:161-169) would establish a link
between
Sino-Japanese
Buddhist chant and the ancient Vedic
brahmanical schools in
India,
which could thus be ancestor to
eventually
tantric traditions that were transmitted to Tibet as well as
to the Far East. His
suggestion
is that the
go-on
hakase notation for
Buddhist chant used
by
the Tendai and
Shingon
sects in
Japan,
which
indicates different musical
pitches by
strokes of different orientation
on the
page,
can be shown to be
significantly
similar to the
finger
positions
of the mudra-s of the Indian
man ducikSa system,
the
differently angled
strokes
being
like the
spread fingers
of a
hand,
all
pointing
in different directions.
5. As Ritual
Offering
Whatever orthodox
theory may say
in
any particular
tradition,
in
practice
a
strong
devotional attitude finds its
way
into the
observances of almost
any religion,
at the
popular
level if not
among
the most
scholarly priests
or the most ascetic monks. This is
especially
true in
Mahayana
Buddhism and
Vajrayana,
where the
performances
of a
prayer
or ritual are
apt
to be
thought
of as a form
of
offering,
able in the measure of their number or
magnificence
to
dispose
the
watching
Buddhas or bodhisattvas to bestow their
grace.
Such is the case in Tibet.
Organ
Tshe
brtan,
cited
by
M. Kartomi
(1990:73), says:
"Music in ceremonies is an
offering
to
please
the ears
of the
deity;
it is like
inviting
a
guest
to
your
home and
offering
the
best
you
have." He
goes
on to
speak
of the
interesting category
of
"mental music,"
which is
simply imagined
and heard
only by
the
worshipper;
as an
offering
it is
just
as
good
as audible
music, though
of course the celestial or transcendent Buddhas do not
actually
need
such
offerings,
and
they
can serve the
purpose
of human
glorification
of the Buddhas. (This is
just
like the mediaeval Christian
concept
of
magnificentia.)
In the devotional
style
of the
Japanese jodo sect, the Buddha's
name is chanted over and over
again
in the
hope
of
attracting grace,
and the
chant,
practiced
at home at the
beginning
and end of the
day,
is
accompanied by
the
pulsing
beat of blows on the
mokugyo
drum.
Theoretically,
it is the
repetition
of the Buddha's name that
counts,
or
rather,
as the stricter forms of the doctrine make
clear,
the
genuinely
devout attitude of the one who
repeats
it. But there can be little
doubt that in
popular usage
the insistent
percussion
that
accompanies
the devotions
gives
them an added resonance in the
gracious
ear of a
listening
Kannon,
and is considered
integral
to the
performance.
As a Means to Dissolve the Individual
in
a
Larger
Religious Body
This function is
obviously important
in
religious psychology.
The individual obtains a sense of
transcending
his
petty
selfhood in
the excitement of
participation
in a
great
concourse that is
swept
along by religious emotion, subject
to the
operation
of
powerful
forces
that come from another
plane;
and this
sensibility may
be enhanced
by
the
impetuous energy
of a
percussive
drum
rhythm
or the
spectral
wailing
of massed flutes and horns. It needs to be remembered that in
a
traditional,
particularly
a
nomadic,
society, people
would never in
the
ordinary
course of
things
have the
experience
of
participating
in
a controlled
assembly
in one
place
of more than a few dozen
people
(except possibly
in a war
party); picture
then the
supernatural
intensity
of attendance at the Tibetan massed choirs of monks. At
such
gatherings,
there could be as
many
as ten thousand monks at the
annual
ceremonies,
and on occasion there could be as
many
as
fifty
thousand
singing together.
It is here that the Tibetan
mystery plays, already
referred to
above,
deserve to be
particularly
mentioned. These
performances,
taking place
in
monastery courtyards,
were attended
by great
concourses
gathered
in from far and wide. There would be no clear-
cut
separation
between audience and
actors,
as all
participated
in the
epiphany.
The
plays represented
such themes as the
conquest
of
demons,
or the
coming
from India of the
great
founder
Padmasambhava;
or the
story might
be of the
coming
of
death,
Yamaraja
(Yama was the
god
of the underworld in the Indian Vedic
religion),
who turned out to be identical with the Buddhist bodhisattva
AvalokiteAvara. One
story
was of the
coming
of the future
Buddha,
Maitreya;
it is attributed to the sixth Dalai Lama in the seventeenth
century. (Robertson and Stevens 1960:73). It
requires
an effort of the
imagination
to conceive of the numinous
impact
of these scenes
upon
24
Asian Music, 1993/1994
people
who felt themselves to be in the actual
presence
of these
sacred or demonic
beings.
Music was an
integral part
of the
proceedings.
"Clouds of incense rise to heaven and the air vibrates
with the
deep
voices of
giant
trombones and
drums,"
wrote the Swiss-
born Lama
Anagarika Govinda,
who travelled
widely,
and was
ordained,
in Tibet (Govinda 1966:176). A
great
orchestra at
Tin-ge,
for
example,
included six
pairs
of
thighbone trumpets,
two
pairs
of
long trumpets,
a hundred small and a hundred
large
drums,
a hundred
cymbals, many
monks who shouted and
clapped
their
hands,
and
lay
enthusiasts who
joined
in with
guns (Tchaikovsky
had
nothing
on the
Tibetans). The whole
procession
as it came to the
place
of
performance
extended over a mile (Blom
1954:458;
Sadie 1980:804).
A
Japanese example
that deserves to be mentioned in the same
category
is a
ceremony
such as the installation of the
great image
of
the Buddha at
Todaiji,
which took
place
at Nara in 749 A.D. This
ceremony, though
far back in the
past,
was a milestone in the
history
of Buddhism in
Japan,
and records of occasion survive. Musicians and
dancers
participated
in
hundreds,
and in fact some of the actual
instruments used then have been
preserved. Early Japanese
orchestras were
probably
associated with Buddhism (Robertson and
Stevens 1960:62).
As a Means of
Inducing
an Altered State of Consciousness
Music as a contributor to the
epiphany
of the sacred at a
large assembly
can,
of
course,
be considered as a means of
altering
the consciousness of those
present,
even,
in a
sense,
of
inducing
a
sort of trance state. This
category
of
religious
function offers music a
substantial role also in the
private
meditation of the
yogi
or Zen
adept
who seeks to
empty
his mind of all the clutter of
ordinary
selfhood
and to rise above his consciousness of the
profane phenomenal
world.
In different
societies,
numerous means have been
employed
to assist
the transition to an altered
state, though
it must not be
forgotten
that
in orthodox Buddhism it is the
practitioner's
mental
discipline,
rather
than
any
artificial
stimulus,
that is
really
efficacious. In a
variety
of
traditions
including
Buddhist
ones,
though,
we find such elements as
diet,
drugs, breathing
exercises,
postures, dancing
(the
"whirling
dervishes" of one Sufi school are an authentic
example),
and other
physical practices among
the devices
adopted
to assist in the
induction of trance or the
passage
to a
higher
meditative state.
Monotonously repeated
sounds often
figure
in the
repertoire,
and it is
here that we need to notice the incessant
repetition
of chanted
mantras,
already
mentioned
here,
as an
important
tantric
technique
that
spread
wherever the
vajrayana
tradition was carried. The
principle
of monotonous
repetition
is
conspicuous
in Tibetan music
(Blom 1954:459).
Particularly hypnotic
and conducive to an altered
state of consciousness is the drone of the
pair
of
long
horns
which,
alternating
breaths,
may keep up
one note for several minutes
(Wellesz 1957:139).
Particularly
dedicated monks would retreat as
part
of their
spiritual training
to
walled-up caves,
often for
years
at a
stretch,
taking
with them a bell and a drum as aids to meditation (Blom
1954:459).
As a final
example, though,
let us turn back to the role of the
shakuhachi,
with its
haunting
sussuration. Said to have been
imported
from China to
Japan by
a Buddhist
priest
in
1254,
it came to be
associated with the Buddhists of the Fukeshu sect
and,
despite
the
secular elements in its
history
which include
espionage
and
forgery,9
the instrument
acquired
a
genuine religious
function. In some
temples,
groups
of shakuhachi
performers
would
accompany
the
service,
and
some
pieces
would be
played
as aids to meditation
(Malm
1959:163).
Honkyoku
(solo)
pieces
would be based on the
religious
ideas of Zen
(Kishibe 1969:53).
Monash
University
Melbourne,
Australia
Notes
IS.
Tagore,
cited
by
E. Wellesz (1957:42).
2See for
example
M. Elliade (1954). On Buddhism as a
family
of
activities dedicated to this
"rupture
of
plane,"
see P. Mus (1935).
3The
exception
to this
generalization
in Thailand is the use in some
temples
of musical instruments which are classified as
"royal."
This
may
reflect the influence of an ancient subcurrent in Buddhist
thought,
which survived
independently
of
any
orthodox
teachings
to
the
contrary, according
to which the Buddha is
mythologically
conceived of as a
mighty emperor,
with all the
paraphernalia
of
26 Asian
Music, 1993/1994
iconography
that accords with the notion of
kingship.
See for
example
P. Mus (1928:153-260).
4See for
example Epigraphia
Birmanica
(1928:36), referring
to
astrologers reciting
a
paritta
to invoke
protection
from the
spirits.
The officiants were
brahman,
not
Buddhist,
but the notion of the
efficacy
of the
paritta
was well entrenched in Buddhist
thought.
5The
chanting
of mantras is a
large subject
in its own
right
which will
not be broached here. See Blofeld (1977).
6Such
popular songs
are described
by
Malm (1959:
f.71).
7These observations about the shakuhachi are from the Melbourne
maker and
player
of the
instrument,
David Brown.
8For an illustration of the
similarity,
see
Uhlig,
ed. (1976:103) for a
figure illustrating
a
ghanta,
and Kishibe
(1969:Fig.
43).
9For the
history
of the
shakuhachi,
see Malm 1959
(:151-164).
References
Archeological Survey
of Burma
1928
Epigraphia
Birmanica. vol.
3,
part
1,
no.
19,
A 12-
14:36.
Rangoon: Archeological Survey..
Baldick,
Julian
1989
Mystical
Islam: An Introduction to Sufism. New York:
New York
University
Press.
B
lofeld,
J.
1977 Mantras,
Sacred Words of Power.
London: Allen and
Unwin.
Blom, E.,
ed.
1954
Grove's
Dictionary
of Music and
Musicians,
5th
edition,
8. London: Macmillan.
Bouma,
G.
rd.
"By
What
Authority?
A
typology
of
organizational
culture in ecclesiastical
organizations." Unpublished.
Eliade,
M.
1954
The
Myth
of the Eternal
Return, or,
Cosmos and
History.
Princeton: Princeton
University
Press.
Ellingson,
Ter
n.d.
"Buddhist Musical Notations."
Unpublished.
Govinda,
Anagarika
1966 The
Way
of the White
Clouds:
A Buddhist in Tibet.
London: Rider.
I-tsing
(I
Ch'ing)
1896 A Record of the Buddhist
Religion.
Tr.
by
J.
Takakusu. Oxford: Oxford
University
Press.
Kartomi, M.J.
1990 "The
Priority
of Musical over
Religions
Characters
in
Grouping
Tibetan Monastic
Instruments,"
in On
Concepts
and Classifications of Musical Instruments.
Chicago: Chicago University
Press.
Kaufmann,
W.
1967 "The Mudras in Samavedic
Chant,"
Ethnomusicology,
9/2:161-169.
Kishibe,
S.
1969 The Traditional Music of
Japan. Tokyo:
Kokusai
Bunka Shinkokai..
Malm,
W.P.
1959
Japanese
Music and Musical Instruments.
Rutland,
Vermont: Tuttle.
1967 Musical Cultures of the
Pacific,
the Near East and
Asia.
Englewood Cliffs,
N.J: Publisher.
28 Asian
Music, 1993/1994
Mus,
Paul.
1928 "Le Buddha
Pard;
son
origine
indienne;
Sakyamuni
dans le
Mahayanisme moyen,"
Bulletin de l'Ecole
FranCaise
d'Extreme-Orient,
XXVIII: 153-260.
1935
Barabudur,
Esquisse
d'une histoire du Bouddhisme
fondde sur
la
critique archdologique
des textes. Two
vols. Hanoi:
Impr.
d'Extreme-Orient
Robertson, Alec,
and Denis
Stevens,
eds.
1960
Ancient Forms to
Polyphony,
vol. I of The Pelican
History
of
Music.
Baltimore: Pelican.
Sadie, S.,
ed.
1980
The New Grove
Dictionary
of Music and
Musicians,
Vol. 18. London: Macmillan.
Uhlig,
Helmut,
ed.
1976 Buddhistische Kunst aus dem
Himalaya.
Berlin:
Kunstamt
Berlin-Tempelhof.
Waddell,
L.A.
1895
The Buddhism of
Tibet,
or Lamaism..
Reprinted
[19721
as Tibetan Buddhism. New York: Dover.
Wellesz, E.,
ed.
1957 Ancient and Oriental
Music,
vol. I of The New
Oxford
History
of
Music.
London: Oxford
University
Press.

Budismo y Musica

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Buddhism and Music

Author(s): Ian W. Mabbett

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