World Flutelore

Dal e A. Olsen

F o l kta le S , M y t h s ,
and O t h e r S t or i e s of
M ag i c a l F lu t e P ow e r
World Flutelore
World Flutelore

Folktales, Myths,
and Other Stories
of Magical Flute Power

Dale A. Olsen

University of Illinois Press

Urbana, Chicago, and Springfield
© 2013 by the Board of Trustees
of the University of Illinois
All rights reserved
Manufactured in the United States of America
1 2 3 4 5 c p 5 4 3 2 1
∞ This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013951049

Dedicated to the memory of Charles O. DeLaney—
wonderful flutist, great storyteller, dear colleague.
Lonely sounds
Blowing in the wind—
Voice of the shakuhachi
Haiku by the Reverend John Seniff,
Zen Buddhist priest and lifelong friend

When somebody tooties the flutie,

I got to shake the booty.
Donkey (Eddie Murphy) speaking about the
flute music of the Pied Piper in the film
Shrek Forever After (2010); Quote from
“Creativity & the Arts,” Reel Life Wisdom
Contents

List of Illustrations  xi
Prelude xiii

Story One
“Raman’s New Flute” (Vellore, India) 1
Chapter 1. Flute Types and Stereotypes  4
Story T wo
“The Turtle, the Monkey, and the Jaguar”
(Apinayé [Gê] Culture, Brazil) 13
Chapter 2. The Making of World Flutes  15
Story Three
“Manwoldae Is Autumn Grass” (Korean Poem) 30
Chapter 3. Flutes That Talk  31
Story Four
“Culture Heroes Discover the First Flutes”
(Wogeo Culture, New Guinea) 38
Chapter 4. Flutes and Gender Roles  40
Story Five
“The Story of the Flutemaker” (Lakota Culture,
United States of America) 46
Chapter 5. Flutes, Sexuality, and Love Magic  50
Story Six
“Aniz the Shepherd” (Uyghur Culture, China) 69
Chapter 6. Flutes and the Animal Kingdom  72
 Story Seven
“The Origin of Maize” (Yupa Culture, Venezuela) 90
Chapter 7. Flutes and Nature  93
Story Eight
“The Fluteplayer” (China) 100
Chapter 8. Flute Origin Myths and
Flute-Playing Heroes  105
Story Nine
“Yoshitsune’s Voyage among the Islands” (Japan) 113
Chapter 9. Flutes and Protective Power  117
Story Ten
“The Rat Catcher of Korneuburg” (Austria) 129
Chapter 10. Flutes and Death  132
Story Eleven
“The Pifuano Flute of the Chullachaqui
Rainforest Spirits” (Iquitos, Peru) 141
Chapter 11. Flutes and Unethical/Ethical Behavior  144
Story T welve
“Song of the Flute: The First Eighteen Verses
of Rumi’s Masnevi” (Persia [Iran]) 148
Chapter 12. Religious Status of Flutes  150
Story Thirteen
“How the Noble Fujiwara no Yasumasa Faced Down
the Bandit Hakamadare” (Japan) 163
Chapter 13. Socioreligious Status of Flute Musicians  166
Story Fourteen
“Hard to Fill” (Ireland) 178
Chapter 14. The Aesthetics and Power of
Flute Sounds, Timbres, and Sonic Textures 179

Conclusion 191
Notes 197
References 213
Index of Stories  225
Subject Index  229
Illustrations

1. Ali Jihad Racy playing an Arabic nai made from cane  5

2. Dale A. Olsen playing a Japanese bamboo shakuhachi 6
3. Dale A. Olsen playing a Vietnamese sao made from
agate stone  7
4. A Nasca ceramic panpipe  8
5. A Nasca ceramic two-chambered globular duct flute
in the shape of a seated bird  8
6. Two Chilean musicians at the patronal festival in
Aiquina, Chile  9
7. A Warao muhusemoi deer bone flute being made by
Cirilo Rivera  19
8. Three finger holes are drilled into the muhusemoi
deer bone flute  19
9. Juan Bustillo Calderón plays a muhusemoi deer bone flute  21
10. A Nasca pelican bone (?) notched-flute with
circular ornaments  25
11. A Vietnamese sao and tieu and a Chinese xiao and dizi 26
12. Close-ups of a Chinese bamboo dizi, a Chinese xiao,
and a Vietnamese tieu and sao 27
13. Native American courting flutes  51
14. A Lakota man playing a Native American courting flute  52
 15. A type of pinkillo duct flute known as saripalka
from Bolivia, being played during Carnaval  96
16.
Tarka duct flutes from Bolivia, being played
during Carnaval  97
17. A Japanese woodblock print depicting two komusoˉ
playing their shakuhachi flutes for alms  155
18. An impersonator of the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca being
sacrificed after smashing his flutes on the temple steps  171
19. A boy playing a flute astride an ox, from a painting
in Shin Hung Sa Temple, Korea  175
20. A group of three roncadora flute and drum players
performing during a festival in Peru  182
21.
Julajula double-unit panpipes being played in front
of a church in Bolivia  187
22. Eduardo Calderón, a curandero (shaman) from Peru,
demonstrating how he invokes spirits to assist him
in healing  195
23. A Moche ceramic globular ductless flute in ovoid shape
with two finger holes  195
Prelude

This book is about the cultural significance of flutes, flute playing, and flute
players from around the world as I interpret it from folktales, myths, poems,
song texts, ethnographies, and other stories—what I call “flutelore.”1 I draw
upon primary and secondary sources in folklore/mythology, anthropology/
ethnology, ethnomusicology/historical musicology, and literature to attempt
to answer the following question: What are the distinct or unique charac-
teristics about flutes, flute playing, and flute players in a world context? My
intent is to show how and why flutes around the world are important for
human/non human personal, communal, religious, spiritual, and secular
communication, expression, and even, perhaps, existence itself.
The flute is one of the most ubiquitous musical instruments in the world,
and evidence about its uses and functions is vast in almost every culture
that has been studied.2 In addition to an inestimable number of flutes in
the world, there are perhaps even a larger number of myths, narratives,
stories, cultural contexts, uses, and functions pertaining to flutes. I draw
upon the vast body of flutelore as described above because I desire a very
broad perspective, not to seek a universal understanding about world flutes,
but a greater understanding of them. A perspective from flutelore provides
indigenous or traditional views about what humans and non-humans do
flutistically that are subjective insider views rather than objective/analytical
outsider views.3 Both types of view (i.e., insider and outsider), however, are
particularly essential for understanding the magic and power of flutes in a
world context. While many may agree with Johannes Anderson who said in
1923 that “[i]t is difficult . . . if not impossible, to gather fact from legend,
and it is perhaps indiscreet to attempt to do so,”4 I prefer to agree with Søren
Kierkegaard when he wrote in 1846 that “subjectivity is ­reality, subjectiv-
xiv Pr elude

ity is truth,”5 and that indeed, a significant understanding of the magic and
power of world flutes is possible through legends—that is, flutelore.
I broadly use the terms “folklore/mythology”6 (or sometimes I separate
them into “folklore” or “mythology”) for the source materials I have found
about world flutes. Most of the flute stories included in these pages have
been written down by anthropologists, ethnographers, ethnomusicologists,
folklorists, historical musicologists, musicians, mythologists, travelers, and
others who have had stories told to them and have carefully collected,
transcribed, and sometimes translated them into the researcher’s language.
In addition, they have sometimes described and interpreted the cultural
contexts of flutes from particular regions of the world where they have gath-
ered information. Other fluteloristic stories have known authors, whether
ancient or contemporary, such as poems, prose (essays, novels, short stories,
and modern tall tales), song texts, and sung epics—indeed, all folkloric and
mythic narratives had an author or creator at one time. Thus, I do not work
with folklore/mythology in the strict and narrow manner of the academy—
that is, stories that have no known author. Additionally, I have not collected
many of the stories myself, but have located numerous examples of flutelore
in publications in libraries, online, or personally from other collectors.
The “stories” I use from anthropology (which I define as the holistic study
of humankind’s cultural and social behavior) include ethnographic accounts
and interpretative/theoretical analyses of flutelore as written by scholars in
cultural anthropology and archaeology. Related to these are “stories” from
ethnomusicology (the study of a culture’s music and musical instruments
undertaken to learn something about how that culture thinks about itself
and the world in which it lives).7 Ethnomusicological and anthropological
descriptions and analyses of flutelore and flute musical events focus specifi-
cally on behavior. Anthropology and ethnomusicology, therefore, provide
the major theoretical frameworks for this book, primarily because I am an
ethnomusicologist and that is my major interest. Literary analysis (the inter-
pretation of poetry and prose) is also important to my ethnomusicological
approach because some of the “stories,” including song texts, are excerpts
from historical works that relate to world flutes.
I occasionally employ techniques from organology (the scientific study of
musical instrument classification) to establish a number of parameters for
classifying edge-type aerophones or flutes from around the world.8 Beyond
the formation of a usable taxonomy, however, this book is not a detailed
study of musical instrument classification and related minutiae such as scale
types, measurements of instruments, acoustical specifications and physics
 Pr elude xv

of sound production, and so forth, unless that sort of information helps

to understand the cultural significance of the instruments and the players
themselves. Some of my primary sources about physical attributes of flutes
or their cultural contexts are from textiles, sculptures, paintings, drawings,
and etchings, including engravings on the instruments themselves. This ap-
proach is called music iconography or music iconology (the study or science
of designs, pictures, shapes, and other images in art and artifacts).
Many of the above disciplines are more theoretical and scientific than
the way I use them in this book. In addition, most of them are very closely
related, and I make little or no attempt to differentiate between them in the
course of this book.
Some of the flutetales I include in this book could be called fairy tales,
wonder tales, Märchen, or narratives about magic; some could be called
romantic tales; others are animal tales or trickster tales; some are fables
with morals; and still others are legends about culture heroes and super-
natural beings.9 Occasionally short case studies and ethnographic descrip-
tions are included as types of writing about flutes and magic, as are poetic
and song texts. Above all, this book is flute centric because the particular
breath‑sounding musical instruments known as “flutes” in English have
always been the most common melody producers of people throughout the
world. Secondly, flutes are, I believe, catalysts for understanding particular
types of secular and spiritual behavior of human cultures. Finally, I am a
flutist, a world traveler, a flute collector, and I have always enjoyed flute
music and good stories from throughout the world.
While much has been written about the history of the flute in the Western
art music tradition,10 less has been written about the history and cultural
significance of world flutes. An important part of the history of ethnomu-
sicology, however, revolves around several excellent works that explore
musical instruments from many world cultures. Three of the broadest stud-
ies that include flutes are those written by Curt Sachs, Marius Schneider,
and Karl Gustaf Izikowitz.11 Some of the specific world flute investigations
are about the Chinese dizi, the Japanese shakuhachi, the acoustical and or-
ganological properties of Melanesian and Bolivian panpipes, and others.12
However, no book exists that is specifically about the lore of world flutes
as found in legends, myths, poems, and other stories. As an ethnomusicolo-
gist, former professional Western orchestral flutist, current performer of a
large number of world flutes such as the Andean kena (quena), siku, and
tarka; Chinese dizi, xiao, and xun; the Japanese ryuteki and shakuhachi;
the Native American flute; the Tongan fangu-fangu; the Vietnamese sao; the
xvi Pr elude

Warao muhusemoi; and many others, I have both a profound interest in the
subject of world flutes and the broad cross-cultural background necessary
to do such a study.13
The intent of this book is ethnomusicological because of its emphasis on
process rather than product, that is, how flutes are a part of human and
non-human behavior, rather than how they exist as material objects. Patri-
cia Gray writes, “Music is not mere entertainment, but a profound bond
between all living things.”14 Flutes provide an important mythological bond
among people, animals, and spirits throughout the world. To attempt to
understand that mythological bond, I quote and slightly alter (by changing
“religious” to “flutelore”) the following statement by Joseph Campbell:15
“Reviewing with unprejudiced eye the [flutelore] traditions of mankind,
one becomes very soon aware of certain mythic motifs that are common
to all, though differently understood and developed in the differing tradi-
tions. . . .” Throughout this book I present many examples of mythic motifs
that occur in world flutelore, such as gender specificity, sexual power, magi-
cal protection, and others. Yet, the local perspectives of particular cultures
provide innumerable variants of those motifs. For that reason, the ideas I
present in this book often overlap and are occasionally repeated in slightly
different form from chapter to chapter. Again, it is not my purpose to seek
universals, although I explore a number of mythic motifs in flutelore that
seem to be shared by many cultures.
Two very important themes run throughout this book as indicated by the
last part of the book’s title, “magical power.” These topics, which are similar,
are not to be taken lightly as “New Age” or “Counterculture” ideas, because
to the human and non-human cultures that rely on them in flutelore and
often in everyday life, magic and power are integral to their existence as
humans or non-humans. Both “magic” and “power” are terms and concepts
commonly used in prose, but are rarely defined, probably because they are
difficult to define. My definition of “magic,” inspired by and somewhat
derived from Boilès and Taussig, is the following:16 Magic is a mode of be-
havior that uses language, music, physical objects, and/or symbols, to explore
existence and change its destination. For the purposes of this study I define
“power” as an inherent quality to assist in or cause desired outcomes.
In a discussion of magic, popular thinking has created two large catego-
ries—good and evil—that have historically been called “white magic” and
“black magic.” Fortunately, in current scholarship that thinking and those
color-specific metaphorical terms are in disuse because they are value judg-
ments and are ethnocentric. Cultures, however, use magic for certain means
and ends, and most of the chapters in this book discuss the magical charac-
 Pr elude xvii

teristics of flutes and flute playing within a variety of contexts. Flutes and the
sounds of flutes are powerful magical forces for many desired outcomes, such
as seduction and love, prevention and protection, human and vegetal fertility,
birth and death, and other aspects of human and non-human behavior. While
a magical spell is often the secondary function of a flutist’s performance, there
are instances in flutelore where it is the primary function: the agent (flutist)
provides a magical force (the flute sound) that affects the recipient (listener).
This agent/magical force/recipient action is called “direct magic,”17 which is
the most common way that flutes/sounds of flutes cast their magical spells
because it is the flutist who is the agent. On the other hand, sometimes the
agent/flutist is merely acting out the power of the magical force/flute sound,
and it is the flute itself that has the magical power. This, according to Boilès,
is called “indirect magic,”18 and the flute is like a surrogate agent, made to
sound and give off its power by the agent/flutist.
Why are flutes and the sounds of flutes magical and powerful? As the
following chapters will make clear, at least three dominant themes that
pertain to flute magic and power are interwoven throughout the numer-
ous examples of flutelore presented within. First, flutes are magical and
powerful because they are breath instruments whose sounds are produced
directly and solely by the player’s breath, rather than by a secondary ap-
paratus or technique such as a reed, buzzing of the lips, or vibration of the
vocal cords. This direct action of the breath from the player’s mouth or
nose upon an edge and into a tube or vessel to produce a sound makes the
flute a tool that transforms inaudible breath into audible sound which be-
comes the sonic manifestation of breath itself. Second, some flutes produce
high-pitched and piercing whistle-like tones that can travel great distances
and can be heard from afar. Whistle tones like those produced on flutes
constitute a special music that is not used for normal human discourse; as
such, whistle sounds and the flutes that produce them function as vehicles
for theurgy or supernatural communication. Whistle tones are also similar
to many bird tones, and birds that traverse earth and the heavens are often
believed to be messengers of the gods. Third, the melodies played on flutes
are also responsible for the power of the flutes, and they are often described
as “beautiful” in many of the stories. Flutes, then, are powerful and often
believed to be magical implements because of the breath they use, the
sounds they can make, and the melodies they produce. Their tone colors or
timbres are also related to the materials used for their construction. Certain
materials are more auspicious than others, and often the more valuable or
rare the materials are, the more powerful are the flutes’ sounds. Flutes are
so powerful that much of the magic in the stories presented in this book
xviii Pr elude

could probably not be accomplished without them. These themes of magic

and power will be explored in this book and will be woven throughout its
diverse chapters.
This book consists of fifteen chapters covering fourteen broad topics/
concepts and a conclusion. Each of the fourteen topical/conceptual chap-
ters is preceded by a related and usually complete story that functions like
an introduction to the topic/concept. I have chosen these fourteen chapter
themes because they reflect particular uses and functions of world flutes and
flute playing that reveal the magical and power aspects of the instrument
inherent in many world cultures, as gleaned through a variety of narrative
types. These themes are by no means universal, although some of them
exist cross-culturally. Chapter 1, “Flute Types and Stereotypes,” discusses
flute classifications and world flute types, their uses, functions, and musical
occasions. Continuing in a descriptive manner, chapter 2, “The Making of
World Flutes,” discusses some world flute construction techniques, designs,
and symbolism, always with an eye towards understanding the meanings
behind them. Chapter 3, “Flutes that Talk,” works with a concept that seems
common in many animistic cultures, where flutes talk rather than produce
music. They talk in three basic ways: by reproducing speech patterns; by
magically speaking or thinking in a vernacular language; or by magically
speaking in an esoteric language, understood only by religious specialists.
Chapter 4, “Flutes and Gender Roles,” presents numerous short folktales
that pertain to the topic of gender, and includes analysis of gender sub is-
sues, such as flute playing and the reversal of social order, flute playing and
gender specificity, and flutes and gender specificity. Chapter 5, titled “Flutes,
Sexuality, and Love Magic,” deals with one of the most common issues in
world flutelore—love. It includes several stories and discusses the following
subtopics: flute sound as magic for wooing the opposite sex; the irresist-
ible magical charm of the flute from the point of view of charmed women;
flute sound as individual recognition of and by the opposite sex; flutes for
remembering the opposite sex; flutes that attract wild female nymphs; and
the sexual power of flutes. Chapter 6, “Flutes and the Animal Kingdom,”
includes folktales and analyses about how flutes are used to charm the
animals. It also discusses the types of animals that appear as flutists in folk-
tales—birds, reptiles, fish, mammals, and insects—and why some animals
have more flute power than others. Chapter 7, “Flutes and Nature,” studies
how flutes are used by humans for the fertility of animals, the growing and
harvesting of crops, controlling weather, and metaphorically, such as riding
the winds of longing. Chapter 8, “Flute Origin Myths and Flute Heroes,”
explores the supernatural origins of flutes and flute music, and discusses
 Pr elude xix

the roles of supernatural heroes (as revealed in stories) who relied on flutes
for many types of power. Chapter 9, titled “Flutes and Protective Power,”
differentiates between magical, sympathetic magical, aesthetical, practical,
and physical protection with flutes by analyzing several narratives. Chapter
10, “Flutes and Death,” discusses the negative aspect of how flutes and flute
players are able to cast musical charms that may lead to death, including
the flutists’ own deaths. It discusses various theories of magic in order to
contextualize some of the narratives. Chapter 11, “Flutes and Unethical/
Ethical Behavior,” looks at how the morals to many of the narratives are
about greed and other undesirable behaviors, while others are about honor
and honesty. Chapter 12, “Religious Status of Flutes,” examines the spiri-
tual roles of three flutes in three cultures, as expressed in oral and written
literature: the mystic nay in Persian Sufism, the passionate bansuri or venu
in Krishna’s Hinduism, and the meditative shakuhachi in Zen Buddhism.
Chapter 13, “Socioreligious Status of Flute Musicians,” shows that some
narratives can teach us about the particular statuses of flutists in several
world cultures. It includes several subtopics, such as flutists as noblemen;
flutists as sacrificial victims; and flutists as low-class humans. Chapter 14,
“The Aesthetics and Power of Flute Sounds, Timbres, and Sonic Textures,”
is based on ethnography as well as folklore, and analyzes how the flute
sounds themselves have great power. I conclude by summarizing the major
points of the book and synthesizing many of the attitudes, concepts, and
events seen in flutelore as a way to answer one of the primary questions of
my research: How is flute magic and power manifested?
This project began with a conversation I had in the 1980s with Professor
Charles O. DeLaney, former flute professor, colleague, and close friend in the
School of Music at the Florida State University. Charlie was a great story-
teller, and when I told him some of the flute tales that I knew from several
world cultures, he said, “You should write a book about flute folklore from
around the world; it would be a big seller at the many flute conventions
around the world.” More than that, however, I was interested in doing a
study of world flutes from the perspectives of folklore/mythology, stories,
poetry, anthropology, and ethnomusicology, primarily because I wanted to
learn more about the flutes of the world, beyond the usual descriptions that
can be found in books and articles. I believed then, and believe it even more
today, that folklore/mythology, stories, poetry, anthropology, and ethno-
musicology provide windows to understanding the cultural significance of
world flutes. Besides, as Charlie Delaney always made clear to me, telling
stories is fun, and reading them is enjoyable, as well as educational. I thank
you, Charlie, for your inspiration—may you rest in peace!
xx Pr elude

During my many years of conducting ethnomusicological research

throughout South America (Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia,
Paraguay, Peru, and Venezuela) and other regions of Latin America and the
Caribbean (Costa Rica, Dominican Republic, Martinique, Mexico, Panama,
Puerto Rico, St. Lucia, and Trinidad and Tobago); traveling, teaching, and
studying in Asia (Cambodia, China, Hong Kong, Japan, Korea, Macao, Thai-
land, and Vietnam); traveling and doing research in Polynesia (Aotearoa,
Fiji, Hawaii, Rarotonga, and Tonga); learning about and how to play the
Native American flute in the United States of America; visiting and doing
organological research in museums in the above countries and throughout
Europe; and teaching ethnomusicology for thirty-five years at the Florida
State University, I have read, listened to, studied, and collected “flutetales”
galore. There are too many people to name and individually thank through-
out those past travels—spanning over forty years. A general “thank you”
will have to suffice.
During the Fall Semester of 1992, I taught the Advanced Doctoral Semi-
nar in Musicology at F.S.U. and the topic I chose was “Non Western Flute
Lore.” The following seven students participated: James Amend, Lenora
DeCarlo, Jane Florine, Oliver Greene, Julie Maisel, Mario Rey, and Timo-
thy Watkins. I am very grateful for the groundbreaking work they did, and
thank them for their bibliographic research and brainstorming. In addition,
several graduate students later worked as my research assistants, gathering
folklore pertaining to world flutes. I particularly thank Jane Florine and
Sara Brown for their help.
I especially thank my dear friend, Reverend John (Pure Sound) Seniff, a
Zen Buddhist priest, for allowing me to include his very beautiful haiku
about the shakuhachi in the epigraph to this book. He wrote that poem for
me in the 1970s when he was my shakuhachi student in Tallahassee. Above
all, I am grateful to my dear wife and best friend, Diane, for putting up
with all my flute playing and flute collecting for nearly fifty years. She first
introduced me to great literature when we were undergraduate students at
the University of Minnesota and to folklore and mythology when we were
graduate students at UCLA. She has always been my greatest inspiration.
Thank you, Di!
World Flutelore
Story 1

Raman’s New Flute

Vellore, India

Ash a N ehemi a h

Raman the flute-player lived in a village [in India]. He was the best flute
player in the whole village, and he played the most wonderful tunes on his
flute. The tunes Raman played were so wonderful that the crows would
stop cawing and the village dogs would stop barking just so that they
could listen to his music. Whenever Raman played a happy tune on his
flute, babies would stop crying, and even the saddest person in the village
would start smiling.
That’s why whenever there was a wedding or a birthday or a festival,
Raman would be asked to play his flute.
One day, Raman’s flute broke.
“Oh no,” said Raman, “my flute is broken. I must make myself a new
flute at once. For there are many weddings and birthdays in our village, and
I will have to play my flute at all of them.”
So Raman went looking for a length of bamboo to make a new flute. He
searched and searched for a bamboo tree that would have branches of just
the right thickness for making a flute. Finally, he found a perfect bamboo
tree growing on the bank of a river far away from the village. It was a very
quiet and lonely place.
Raman cut a length of bamboo. He took a sharp knife and hollowed out
a beautiful new flute for himself.
Next day, Raman played his new flute at a wedding. But though he tried
his best, he couldn’t play a single happy tune. The sounds made by Raman’s
new flute were so sad that the bride started sobbing. Next the bridegroom
started crying and soon all the wedding guests were in tears.

From the website Long Long Time Ago, http://www.longlongtimeago.com,

edited by Rohini Chowdhury. Reprinted with permission from Asha Nehemiah.
2 Story 1

“Stop, stop!” the wedding guests begged Raman. “Please stop playing
your flute. We want to be happy. But the sad songs you are playing are only
making us cry!”
“This is too bad,” said Raman. “I want to play happy songs, but my new
flute only seems to make sad music. I will just have to make myself another
new flute.”
So Raman set off again, looking for a perfect length of bamboo to make
himself a new flute. This time he found a tree near the village well. There
were many women drawing water from the well. The women were talking,
and their brass water pots were clanking loudly. It was a very noisy place.
Raman made himself a new flute from a length of bamboo that he cut
from the tree near the well.
Soon, it was the ninetieth birthday of the oldest man in the village, and
Raman was asked to play his flute. He tried to play a happy tune, but this
time he found that his flute made only loud and angry noises.
“What is the matter, Raman?” asked the oldest man in the village, putting
his hands over his ears. “Why are you playing such a loud and noisy tune?
You used to play such happy songs. But now, your flute sounds more like
a hundred people yelling at one another and two hundred brass pots all
clanking at the same time!”
Raman felt very sad. He said, “When I used a length of bamboo from a
quiet, lonely place, my flute made sad music. When I used a piece of bamboo
from a noisy place, my flute makes only loud music. I know what I must do.
I must make a new flute from a tree growing in a happy place. Only then
can I start playing happy tunes again.”
So Raman walked all over the village looking for a tree growing in a happy
place. He walked for many hours and for many miles searching. There were
no bamboo trees growing in any of the places where people laughed or sang
or joked.
Raman was sitting sadly on the steps of the village school wondering
what to do when he heard the sound of laughter. Everywhere in the school,
children were laughing and talking and playing happily. And there, in one
corner of the school, stood a bamboo tree.
Raman cut a piece from the tree growing in the school and made a flute
from it.
The next morning, Raman had to play his flute in a home where the priest
was naming a little baby. The priest was to name the baby “Hari.”
Raman put the flute to his lips. Would his flute make happy music or sad
music or angry music, he wondered. He started playing his flute, and once
 R a m a n’s N ew Flu t e 3

more, happy tunes came from Raman’s flute. In fact, the tunes he played now
were happier than any tunes he had ever played before. The baby, whose
face had turned purple because he was crying so much, started gurgling
happily when he heard Raman’s happy music.
“Ha-ha-hurrah for Raman,” said the baby’s mother and father, laughing
happily. “Ha-ha-ha-hee-hee-he’s playing happy tunes again!”
Raman played such a merry tune that even the priest couldn’t stop laughing.
And that’s why the priest, who was supposed to name the baby “Hari”
named him “Ha-ha-ha-Hari” instead.
Ch a p t er 1

Flute Types and Stereotypes

It is not known if Raman’s flutes were horizontally, diagonally, or vertically

held when played, cross-blown or end-blown, ducted or ductless. Because
there is an innumerable amount of flute types in the world, as explained in
the prelude to this book, there is also an inestimable amount of oral and
written literature that mentions flutes. Often, however, specific flute types are
not distinguished in folklore, and sometimes flutes are just called “pipes” (see
chapter 11), oboes are called “flutes,” trumpets are called “flutes,” flutes are
called “trumpets,” and so on.1 For those reasons of ambiguity, it is important
to discuss how flutes are classified in music scholarship.

Flute Classification
What exactly is a flute? A flute is an edge-type aerophone, meaning it is
any instrument whose sound is produced by an aspirated stream of air—in
flutelore, the players include humans, animals, spirits, and other entities—
that strikes a sharp edge, creating audible sound waves. The histories and
traditions of music throughout the world include many ways to classify
musical instruments, and ethnomusicologist Margaret Kartomi has discussed
and compared most of them.
For purposes of world flutelore, I delineate seven categories for aspirated
edge-type aerophones, which I refer to as “Olsen categories” in this book.
1.
Vertical/diagonal tubular flute with ductless, rimmed mouthpiece. Single-
tubed (open distal end); ductless (open proximal end or open end exten-
sion made from a different material than the tube; rimmed; the player
focuses the air stream directly upon the sound-producing, rimmed edge
or an extension of the rimmed edge that is made from a different material
 Flu t e T y pes a n d St er eot y pes 5

than the tube), vertically or diagonally held when played, end-blown, with
finger holes. Some examples are the Arabic nai (see figure 1), Bulgarian
kaval, Ethiopian washint, Hopi flute, Persian nay, and Turkish ney.
2.
Vertical tubular flute with ductless notched mouthpiece. Single‑tubed (open
distal end), ductless (with a notch for a mouthpiece; the player focuses
the air stream directly upon the sound-producing edge in the shape of a
notch), vertically or diagonally held, end‑blown, with finger holes. Some
examples are the Bolivian and Peruvian kena (quena), Chinese xiao (hsiao),
Ghanaian odurugya, Japanese shakuhachi (see fig. 2), Q’ero pinkuyllu, and
Vietnamese tieu, and Warao muhusemoi (see chapter 2, figure 9).
3.
Vertical, diagonal, or horizontal tubular flute with duct mouthpiece.
Single‑ (also double-, triple-, quadruple-, or more) tubed (open distal end),
duct (with a fipple, beak,2 ring, or external baffle type mouthpiece appara-
tus that channels the player’s air to the sound-producing edge), vertically
(i.e., recorder), diagonally held (i.e., Irish pennywhistle on occasion), hori-
zontally (Bolivian muhuseño and Slovakian fujara; with attached bocal or
air tube), end-blown, with finger holes—some examples are the Bolivian,
Ecuadoran, and Peruvian pinkullo (and variant spellings), the Bolivian
saripalka (see chapter 7, figure 15), Bolivian tarka (see chapter 7, figure
16), European recorder, Indonesian suling, Irish pennywhistle, and Native
American courting flutes (see chapter 5, figures 13 and 14).

1. Ali Jihad Racy playing an Arabic nai made from cane.

Photograph by Daniel M. Neuman, used with permission.
6 Ch a p t er 1

2. Dale A. Olsen playing a Japanese bamboo shakuhachi.

Dale A. Olsen Collection.

4.
Transverse tubular flute with ductless single-hole cross-blown mouthpiece.
Single‑tubed (open distal end, although some variants are closed), ductless
(with a mouthpiece that is a single hole that is either round, oval, square,
or rectangular in shape; the player focuses the air stream from the mouth
or nose directly upon the sound-producing edge of the hole), horizontally
or slightly diagonally held (often varies during a performance), cross-
blown, with finger holes. Some examples are the Brazilian pífano, Chinese
dizi, European-derived orchestral flute, Indian bansuri, Hawaiian ’ohe
hano ihu, and Vietnamese sao (see figure 3).
5.
Vertical multiple-tubular flute with ductless rimmed mouthpieces (pan-
pipe type). Multiple‑tubed (closed distal ends, joined or held together in a
raft or bundle shape), ductless (open proximal ends only, no notches; the
player focuses the air stream directly upon the sound-producing edge or
edges), without finger holes. Panpipes can be either single unit or double
unit. A single‑unit panpipe consists of a series of tubes of diverse materi-
als that are rafted or bundled, carved, or molded (see figure 4) together
to form a single whole that is capable of producing a complete melody
when played by a single player—some examples are the Chinese pai xiao,
Ecuadoran rondador, Peruvian antara, and Romanian nai. A double-unit
 Flu t e T y pes a n d St er eot y pes 7

3. Dale A. Olsen playing a Vietnamese sao made

from agate stone. Dale A. Olsen Collection.

panpipe consists of two halves, each half traditionally played by a sepa-

rate individual, requiring two persons to play the whole, the two halves
considered to be one instrument. Some examples are the siku among the
Aymara in Bolivia and Peru, and the julajula in Bolivia (see chapter 14,
figure 21).
6.
Globular or vessel flute with ductless, single-hole, cross-blown mouth-
piece (ocarina type 1).3 Single-chambered vessel, ductless (with a
cross‑blown, single-hole mouthpiece apparatus), with or without finger
holes, similar to many pre-Columbian ceramic instruments, especially
among the Moche of ancient Peru (see conclusion, figure 22), the Italian
ocarina, and the Chinese xun or hsun.
7.
Globular or vessel flute with duct mouthpiece (ocarina type 2). Single-,
double-, or triple-chambered vessel, duct (with a fipple mouthpiece ap-
paratus), with or without finger holes (the latter instrument is often called
a “whistle” in the literature)—many exemplars are from ancient and
modern cultures throughout western South America (see figure 5), Central
America, Mesoamerican, Europe, and Vietnam.
 4. A Nasca (pre-Columbian southern Pacific coastal Peru,
ca. 200 b.c.–a.d. 600) ceramic panpipe from the Charles
Delaney Collection, Tallahassee, Florida. Photograph by
Dale A. Olsen.

5. A Nasca ceramic two-chambered globular duct flute in the shape of

a seated bird. Private collection. Photograph courtesy of Christopher B.
Donnan, 1973.
 Flu t e T y pes a n d St er eot y pes 9

There are always exceptions to these categories. For example, in Aiquina, in

northern Chile, I saw small, transverse, cross-blown flutes (Olsen category 4)
fitted with small mouthpiece ducts used by flutists during a religious folk
festival in 1968 (see figure 6). Each flutist blew into a detachable duct that
enabled his air to be focused against the edge of the flute’s embouchure
hole. These duct additions make the instruments easier to play for musicians
who are unable to make the correct flute embouchure with their lips. I have
also seen ancient Roman statues in Florence, Italy, of musicians playing
panpipes (Olsen category 5) made with fipple mouthpieces for each tube.
After the Meiji Restoration (1868) in Japan, when Western culture was
introduced, Japanese-Western musical instrument hybrids developed, such
as the okuraulos, a combination of a shakuhachi headjoint with a notched
mouthpiece and a Western silver flute body. The instrument received its name
from its inventor, Okura Kishichiro (1882–1963), and aulós, an ancient
Greek aerophone (which was actually an oboe rather than a flute). Today,
bamboo shakuhachi headjoints can be purchased over the Internet that are
made to fit onto Western silver flute bodies. Undoubtedly, other types of flute
mouthpiece anomalies and combinations can be found throughout the world.

6. Two Chilean musicians at the patronal festival in 1968 in Aiquina, Chile,

playing tin fifes by blowing into plastic mouthpiece attachments, making
normally cross-blown transverse flutes into fipple-blown transverse flutes.
Photograph by Dale A. Olsen, 1968.
10 Ch a p t er 1

Throughout this book, when identifying flutes, I most often simply use
the terms “flute,” “ocarina,” or “panpipe,” along with the Olsen category
number when known. If a specific type of flute is mentioned in a story, I
refer to its type along with the Olsen category number. Moreover, when
vernacular or indigenous names are given, I use them along with Olsen
category numbers. In the vast body of flutelore, however, especially when
stories are translated into English, neither details of flute type nor indigenous
names are commonly provided.

Flute Types: Their Uses, Functions,

and Musical Occasions
Why are there so many different types of flutes around the world? Does one
type of flute have more significance than another? Is one more powerful or
magical than another? Often, this type of knowledge is not known, mostly
because such questions are rarely asked of world flutists. One researcher
(who was also a flutist), Muriel Percy Brown, however, apparently asked
those questions while living in the Himalayas in the early 1920s. She wrote
the following in 1922 about three types of flutes—lingbufeniam, lingbun-
emia, and tolling—among the Lepchas in Sikkim, who have “an astonishing
amount of folk-lore . . . connected with [their flutes]”:
The oldest is the lingbufeniam, which is in fact the original form of the hill-flute.
It is cut out of a long, thick piece of bamboo, closed at one end, and has four
holes and a mouthpiece. It is handed down from father to son as a treasured
family possession and is naturally regarded as the special instrument of the
patriarch of the family. He sometimes carves designs on the well-seasoned,
polished bamboo, which assumes a rich red tint with age. This flute gives forth
sonorous notes that sound like wind in the reeds. It is played sideways, with the
head of the performer turned over his shoulder and his arms well extended. It
has the property of being able to protect him on a journey in wild, unknown
parts of the forest, where nature-spirits have full sway; for these spirits greatly
fear to see anybody playing an instrument from which his head is actually
turned, and they remain at a respectful distance from a man so accomplished
that he can breathe out those deep notes without even looking at his flute. I
have wondered whether the resemblance to the well-known figure of the holy
Krishna fluting in this attitude is not the origin of this belief; for his influence
undoubtedly spread throughout the whole of India, though animistic Buddhism,
and not Hinduism, is the religion of these hill-tribes.
The lingbunemia is a small, double flute with an orifice on each side. The
two pieces of bamboo, joined by wax or putty, have each six holes. The instru-
ment is difficult to make, since the reeds [i.e., the tubes] must exactly match in
 Flu t e T y pes a n d St er eot y pes 11

tone, and it is not easy to find two pieces quite similar. There is also a single
lingbunemia, made in the same way, with an orifice at the side but, in this
case, cut under a knot in the bamboo. The lingbunemia is specially dedicated
to purposes of worship, and in olden days it was part of the religious duty of
Lepcha householders to arise at earliest dawn and play a gid [?—perhaps a
frivolous tune] on the lingbunemia, and to play another at night before sleep-
ing. One admires the sense of beauty and fitness thus displayed by the musical
Lepchas, in playing their tender, warbling melodies at times when nature is
hushed and at rest.
The lingbunemia, be it known, is appreciated by all water-spirits. When one
has traveled a good deal in Sikkim, one realizes how great a part the numer-
ous mountain torrents and waterfalls must play in the life of the hill-folk. A
fearsome part it must have been, too, in the days, not so long ago, when no
roads or bridges existed except the slender, swaying bamboo bridge suspended
across the foaming stream, and capricious elementals of curious shapes and
forms, originating no doubt in contorted rocks and gnarled roots of trees, were
sometimes half-seen beneath the rushing water. One exquisite lake in Sikkim,
nestling under the Nattoo Pass, was the home in the olden days, before the
advent of the English, of a particularly awe-inspiring water-spirit, who would
cause the surface of the lake to shake to and fro and then to rise in a high column
and, falling over on any unwary traveler, suck him into its translucent depths.
Indeed, I have never seen any spot more suited, by the wild desolation of its
environment, to be the home of such a being—black, rocky cliffs going sheer
into the turquoise-green water, and at the farther end an enormous foaming
waterfall pouring over into abysmal depths. What a comfort to the poor, terri-
fied Lepcha to feel that he can soothe the water-spirits by means of his beloved
flute, and, playing on the banks of the stream, be granted a safe passage over
the frail bamboo bridge and return unharmed to his tiny leaf hut in the forest!
If he is not musician enough to do this, a lama from the nearest gompa, or
monastery, may be induced by presents of eggs and rice to sit and play for him
by the banks of the treacherous lake or brawling torrent. Maidens, too, when
going to bathe, exorcise the wicked water-spirits by playing on the lingbunemia
before they immerse themselves in the limpid pool. . . .
Tolling, the third Lepcha flute, is a long, slender reed half-way between the
lingbufeniam and the lingbunemia in size and, like the former, with only four
holes. It is played straight and not sideways, and perhaps owing to this fact
and for the further reason that it is easier to play on than the lingbufeniam,
nature-spirits have no respect for the man who plays it but laugh and gibe at
him—which is the more heartless since he is usually a disconsolate bachelor
or a person in grief. At one o’clock in the afternoon, an hour when nature-
spirits are inclined to listen to the traveler’s flutings, they will sometimes come
and tease those who relieve their sorrowful feelings by playing the tolling. It
possesses no beneficial powers, and, though harmless in itself, tells much on
12 Ch a p t er 1

the health and prosperity of the performer. Any illness or misfortune that may
come to him is of course attributed to his unfortunate choice of instrument.
The sound produced is certainly very plaintive, somewhat like a musical sigh.
To the Lepcha it is a genuine expression of grief. The tolling in my possession
belonged to a man who said it had remained untouched in his house since his
parent’s death, because playing on it aroused memories too keenly painful.4

Brown’s descriptions are of great value for understanding Sikkim flutes,

and rarely do anthropologists, ethnomusicologists, missionaries, tourists,
travelers, or other chroniclers write about the cultural significance of particu-
lar flute types. We learn from Brown’s discourse that the Lepchas in Sikkim
have several types of flutes and that each type has a particular function in
Lepcha culture. The lingbufeniam, for example, is a ductless transverse tu-
bular flute (Olsen category 4) of great supernatural power. Most noteworthy
for an understanding of that power, and perhaps by analogy other transverse
flutes throughout the world, is her statement about how the “spirits greatly
fear to see anybody playing an instrument from which his head is turned.”
This information obviously comes from the Lepchas themselves and speaks
highly of Brown’s careful ethnographic field research. The lingbunemia, as
she explains, is a single- or double-tubed duct tubular flute (Olsen category
3) that also has significant power, especially to soothe the water spirits,
although she doesn’t explain how that happens. The tolling, by contrast, is
not sufficiently described by Brown to be categorized.
In spite of Brown’s excellent descriptions and those of other researchers
included in this book, every world culture is unique, and specific and/or
detailed knowledge about world flutes as gleaned from folklore, mythol-
ogy, poetry, and other stories of magic and power and even descriptions
and interpretations from anthropology and ethnomusicology, is somewhat
limited. Nevertheless, in the current volume, I attempt to bring many of the
cultural data about world flutes together, always cognizant of the fact that
particular flute types are often not described in the stories themselves.
The next chapter discusses the construction of some world flutes in three
case studies: the Warao of Venezuela, the Buganda of Uganda, and the
Japanese. All world cultures have their own methods for flute construction,
and these short case studies will, I hope, give some idea about indigenous
technologies. In story 2, a flute is made from the leg bone of a jaguar, al-
though the maker is a turtle. Many other stories in this book include some
information about flute construction.
Story 2

The Turtle, the Monkey,

and the Jaguar
Apinayé (Gê) culture, Brazil

A monkey was up in a tree eating inaja fruit when a turtle came by and
asked him for a piece of the fruit. The monkey told him to climb up. The
turtle answered that his legs were too short to climb trees. The monkey then
went down, brought the turtle up, and put him on top of a bunch of inajas.
Then, from sheer meanness, the monkey left him there and went away.
At that moment, a jaguar passing by the inaja tree saw the turtle and
asked him to come down. The turtle realized that the jaguar wanted to
devour him and refused to come down, saying that he was afraid of falling.
The jaguar told him to jump down and promised to catch him. The turtle
then worked out a plan to kill the jaguar. He said he would accept the offer
and told the jaguar to get ready because he was going to jump. But before
the jaguar had had time to prepare himself, the turtle jumped on his head
and killed him.
The turtle fled, but some days later, he came back. The vultures had already
eaten all of the jaguar’s meat. The turtle then took a piece of bone from the
jaguar’s leg and made a flute with it. Playing the flute, he went into the woods.
After a while he met another jaguar, who asked him for the flute. When
he refused to give it up, the jaguar pinned him to the ground with a forked
stick and left him there to die.
Resigned to his fate, the turtle started to play the flute. A monkey nearby
heard the music, approached the turtle, and, feeling sorry for him, freed
him from the stick. In gratitude, the turtle gave the flute to the monkey. The
latter left, joyfully playing the flute and jumping up and down.

Johannes Wilbert, ed., with Karin Simoneau, Folk Literature of the Gê Indians,
260–61, narrative 102; reprinted with permission from the Latin American Insti-
tute, University of California–Los Angeles.
14 Story 2

Suddenly, the jaguar that had pinned the turtle down with the stick ap-
peared. He tried to take the flute away from the monkey, saying that it had
been made from a bone of one of his relatives. The monkey denied that
the flute had been made from the bone of a jaguar, but the jaguar insisted,
saying that the flute still had the odor of his relative. The monkey then said
that the smell the jaguar noticed was that of another jaguar that had played
the flute. The jaguar believed the monkey and let him go but warned him
that if the flute had been made from the bone of another jaguar, he would
kill him. The monkey was satisfied and started to back away little by little.
When he was some distance away, he stopped and, calling back to the jag-
uar, cried, “The flute is really made from the bone of your relative!” Then
the monkey raced away as fast as he could. The jaguar was furious, but he
could do nothing about it because the monkey was already far away.
Ch a p t er 2

The Making of World Flutes

All cultures have their specific ways of constructing their flutes, which fit
within their particular and usually unwritten music theories, aesthetics,
and practices. Folktales and mythology, like music iconography, however,
offer very little reliable descriptive information about flute construction
techniques or even flutes as material objects; artistic license, such as exag-
geration, understatement, ambiguity, hyperbole, deception, exists in both the
narrative and visual arts. To understand why cultures construct their flutes
in the ways they do, however, the narrative arts with their use of metaphor,
symbolism, double entendre, and other ways of saying (and writing or sing-
ing) things often provide indigenous perspectives about processes, including
flute construction. This chapter explores some of those deeper views about
world flute construction. Often, however, those levels of knowledge are not
known by the flute makers themselves, and their most usual responses are
“because that is the way we do it” or “that’s how our ancestors taught us.”
In story 2, “The Turtle, the Monkey, and the Jaguar,” from the Apinayé (Gê)
Amerindians of Brazil, the only information pertaining to the construction
of the jaguar bone flute is that vultures cleaned off the meat from the bone.
The construction of the instrument is not important, however, although
its significance for the maker, a turtle, is considerable, and it is even more
important to the other jaguars.

Flute Construction
Flutes can be made from any naturally hollow (or easily hollowed out) tu-
bular or globular materials, such as bamboo, cane (usually Arundo donax),
bone, gourd, and calabash. In addition, they can be made from solid ma-
terials that can be hollowed out with work or decay or by insects, such as
16 Ch a p t er 2

wood, plant stalks, stone, and the like. They can also be crafted (molded)
from such materials as clay (ceramic), gold, and silver. Modern tubes, such as
PVC pipes, and even rifle barrels have been used to make flutes. Sometimes,
archaeologists or museum curators designate ancient objects as flutes when
they may actually have been constructed and used for other purposes: for
example, pipes for smoking and bone snuff tubes have been called flutes.
Natural materials, while plentiful, are often attributed to the supernatu-
ral, which gives power to the musical instruments made from them. In the
following story, titled “The First Pashiuba [Paxiuba] Palm” of the Brazilian
Yahuma Amerindians, for example, it is explained that flutes were first made
from a magical palm by Milomaki, a little boy who came from the Home
of the Waters in the east where the sun lives:
So wonderfully could he sing that many came in haste from near and far to
listen to him. But those who heard him presently died. So it came to pass that
their kinsmen seized the youth, whom they thought a baneful demon, and
burned him. Yet he never ceased to sing until his soul was fled. And out of
his ashes there sprang up a tree that grew larger and larger; this was the first
Pashiuba palm. From its wood were carved flutes that repeated the wondrous
melodies which the youth had sung. Even to this day the menfolk play on them
at harvest-time in honor of Milomaki, now revered as their god of husbandry.
But the women and little children must not catch sight of the flutes, for then
they would die.1

Milomaki is believed by the Yahuma to be the personification of the sun,

the giver of life and, as the story makes clear, the divinity associated with
the harvest.
Bone is traditionally one of the most common materials for constructing
flutes among American Indians, especially in the South American Andes and
rainforest regions. Story 2 tells that a flute was made by a turtle from the leg
bone of a jaguar, which was later played by a monkey. While that story is
also an example of animal flutelore (see chapter 6), it suggests a nonmusical
purpose for the construction of a jaguar-bone flute—it provides a way for
the turtle and the monkey to ridicule the jaguar, their enemy. Shinbones are
powerful because they are often where the soul of the animal (including
birds and humans) resides. Among the Canelos Quichua of the Ecuadorian
rainforest, their shamanistic bone flutes (generically called pinqullu in the
Quichua language) are specifically called “runa tullu, talking bone, and aya
tullu, soul bone.”2 These supernatural and extramusical characteristics are
studied in forthcoming chapters, and particular human-bone flutes appear
in legends discussed in chapters 4 and 10.
 T h e M a k i ng of Wor ld Flu t es 17

Bamboo and reed, however, are the most common materials for world
flutes. Ethnomusicologist Theodore Grame, in fact, lauded the importance of
bamboo for constructing musical instruments to the extent that he suggested
it could become a new way to classify particular musical instruments.3 Not
only does he stress its durability for many types of instruments, including
flutes, but he also discusses various ways bamboo is used to make flutes for
magical purposes, especially among the indigenous people of New Guinea,
who have a legend about their first flute.4 Curt Sachs explains that the
Melanesian bamboo flute is a charm or sonic symbol for rebirth and fertility,
perhaps because it can imitate the sound of the cassowary that lives inside
a bamboo stalk and is released when the bamboo is broken open by a large
fruit that fell from a tree. Among the Sentani people in New Guinea, the
cassowary is a bird that symbolizes rebirth, like the phoenix in other myths.5
Reed, which is a different species than bamboo, is just as common for
constructing flutes of many types. The best-known legend about the con-
struction of a flute from reeds, in this case a panpipe (Olsen category 5),
comes from ancient Greece. The story is about Pan, a goat-man-cum-god-
of-shepherds and their flocks, pastures, wild mountains places, and other
rustic concepts.6 Pan was “a happy, lusty, randy, roving creature—like a goat
[below the waist, a man, above, and with horns. Pan] . . . was a great one
for dancing with the nymphs, able to cavort for hours on his tough legs,
hooves stomping out the rhythm. He liked to sing and to hunt.” The legend
elaborates on Pan’s love for music and women and on his invention of the
flute that today bears his name, the panpipe. One day, after dancing on
Mount Lycaeus, Pan set off for his home when he encountered a beautiful,
young nymph along the way. Filled with passion, he frightened the nymph,
who ran down the hill and through the woods to the flatlands of the La-
don River. She cried for help from the river nymphs and was instantly lost
among the reeds, perhaps transformed into a reed herself. Pan could only
hear the sounds of the wind blowing over the reed bed. In despair, he cut
some reeds into different lengths, placed them together into the shape of a
small raft, affixed the variegated lengths together with wax, and blew across
their open ends, thinking as he played, “At least I can have your voice.” He
named his flute Syrinx after the shy nymph and played it at times of loneli-
ness, despondency, and love lost. Pan used his breath to imitate the breath
of the wind—which is often interpreted as the breath of God, especially
with regard to Aeolian harps in medieval Europe—and reproduce (not just
imitate) the voice of his beloved. This is one of the most important essences
of the flute; this is the power and magic of the flute as the transformer of
18 Ch a p t er 2

breath into sound, the sonic manifestation of the player’s soul, capable of
releasing all types of one’s inner yearnings.
Three case studies follow on the making of three types of flutes from three
contrasting world regions: South America (the Warao Amerindians from
the Venezuelan rainforest of the lower Orinoco River), Africa (the Buganda
people of Uganda), and East Asia (Japan). These ethnographic stories show
the care given for and power attributed to the creativity of world flutes.7

A Warao Case Study

The Warao of northeastern Venezuela make a muhusemoi (literally, “deer
wind instrument”), which is a vertical, ductless (consisting of a beveled
mouthpiece with a wide notch), deer bone flute with three finger holes (Ol-
sen category 2). Warao men play several muhusemoituma (the plural form)
together during festivals and other occasions, even though no two deer-bone
flutes are ever alike. The Warao flute maker’s method of construction of
his deer-bone flute explains its “lack of tuning standardization.” This case
study is about how a muhusemoi was made by Cirilo Rivera, who was the
kapitán (chief) of the village of Yaruara Akoho on the Winikina River, deep
in the rainforest of the Delta Amacuro Federal Territory (Orinoco River
Delta), in 1972:
The Warao flute maker first obtains a proper-sized deer tibia (shinbone) for
his instrument. Usually made from the foreleg of an adult deer, the maker
must either hunt and kill a deer himself, or obtain a bone from another hunter,
usually a relative from his village. With the bone in hand, he opens both of
its ends with small chops from his machete. Then he removes as much of the
bone’s marrow as he can with his knife. That done, he places the bone within
a loosely woven wicker basket that hangs from the rafters of his house above
the river, out of the reach of dogs, but within the reach of cockroaches, which
eat out the marrow within several days.
In a week or two, after the bone is dry and sufficiently hollowed out by hungry
cockroaches, the flute maker uses a machete to trim the largest end of the bone
[see fig. 7], which will contain the mouthpiece (this is called the proximal end
in ethnomusicology). Then he uses a knife to carve a concave-shaped mouth-
piece, which becomes the sharp edge across which the flutist blows to produce
a sound. Then he places the mouthpiece edge (the proximal end of the flute)
into the crotch between his thumb and first finger, and by using his index finger
as a ruler, he measures where the top (closest to the proximal end) finger hole
will be placed. Where the tip of his first finger falls he makes a mark and drills
the top finger hole with the sharpened point of a harpoon in the fashion of a
fire drill [see figure 8], a technique that requires only several minutes of effort
with a sharp harpoon point. The flute maker then measures the distance for the
7. A Warao muhusemoi deer bone flute being made by Cirilo Rivera, Yaruara
Akoho, Winikina River, Orinoco River Delta, Venezuela. He is trimming the
proximal end with a machete. Photograph by Dale A. Olsen, 1972.

8. Three finger holes are drilled into the muhusemoi deer

bone flute with a sharp harpoon, twisted between the flute
maker’s hands in the manner of a fire drill. Photograph by
Dale A. Olsen, 1972.
20 Ch a p t er 2

second or middle finger hole (moving towards the distal end) with the back of
his thumb (from the tip of the thumb to the first knuckle of the thumb) and drills
it with similar ease. The same techniques are used to determine the placement
of and to drill out the third finger hole closest to the distal end. When finished,
the flute maker tests his muhusemoi flute. If it sounds good to him, it is ready.8

Because human hands and deer tibias are all slightly different in size, there
is almost always variation in the tunings of the muhusemoi bone flutes; no
two muhusemoi flutes are ever exactly alike. Nevertheless, almost all of them
produce a scale that ends with a minor third, and when Warao men play
several together in a type of heterophony for their festival of nahanamu,
the resulting music is harmonious in its own way—not like Western music
but like Warao music. The instruments are not out of tune but are very
much in tune within the context and aesthetic of Warao culture. Therefore,
there is no lack of tuning standardization within the Warao culture because
all muhusemoi flutes are tuned to a Warao standard. To use the modern
Western concept of tuning as a standard for Warao music is, of course, eth-
nocentric, and the above field-note story is intended not only to describe a
non-European-derived concept but also to remind the reader that all cultures
must be studied within their own contexts and in their own terms.
In order to make the muhusemoi sound better (para sonar mejor in Span-
ish), the flutist, each time before he plays his flute, dunks it in the river to
wet it. This is not a ritual act but a physical one that makes the instrument
easier to play than when it is completely dry. Often, ornamental tassels made
from moriche fibers dangle from the flute’s distal end (see figure 9).

A Buganda Case Study

In 1953, ethnomusicologist Klaus Wachsmann, in collaboration with Marga-
ret Trowell, edited the book Tribal Crafts of Uganda, in which the material
culture of the Buganda (also called Ganda) and other Ugandan people was
described and analyzed.9 Their description of the fabrication of the ndere
(also endere) notched flute (Olsen category 2) offers a glimpse at a traditional
East African musical-instrument-construction technology:
[The term “notched flute”] received its name from the incision in the rim at the
top. A stream of breath expelled between tight lips is directed against the V or
V-shaped notch. Both ends are open; there are two or four stops [finger holes].
The material of which these notched flutes are made is the common reed
grass known in Ganda as ekiwuuwa, which grows in swamps, or at the mar-
gin of the lakes, of bamboo in bamboo-growing areas, of a tip of a lobelia in
the mountains of South-West Uganda, or of the hollow stem of the castor oil
tree. Their manufacture is remarkable in that no acoustic test is applied at
 T h e M a k i ng of Wor ld Flu t es 21

9. Juan Bustillo Calderón plays a muhusemoi deer

bone flute. Photograph by Dale A. Olsen, 1972.

any stage of the process. After the reed has been brought in from the swamp,
the musician himself cleans its outside and cuts it to a length suitable, in his
opinion, for a flute. He puts the reed to his lips as if he were playing, in order
to bring his fingers into the position he is accustomed to on other instruments.
He marks the places where the two fingers nearest to his mouth, come down,
and the distance between them becomes the standard length which determines
the position of the third and fourth stops. The hands are placed in such a way
that a node of the reed comes between them. He then proceeds to burn the
stops into the wall of the reed with a red-hot wire or nail. The pith is removed
22 Ch a p t er 2

from the inside, first with a smooth, pointed stick and then with a stick slightly
thicker and covered with branch knots which act like the rough surface of a file.
This accomplished, a mark is scratched, carefully, in line with the finger stops,
near the upper rim for the notch. A V-shaped incision is cut with a knife and
enlarged to a U-shaped notch with a red-hot iron. The flute is now ready except
for the final process of “proofing” the material: it is dipped into hot water for
a moment, greased with butter, and exposed to the sun to dry.
This rule-of-thumb results in the stops being placed at equal distances from
each other. Notch and stops are known in Ganda as “nostrils,” empami. The
word endere or nyamulere is widely known for the four-stop instrument.10

As with the Warao muhusemoi, among the Buganda, the makers’ fingers
or hands also provide the units of measurement. Likewise, the notches are
made with a machete or knife—modern metal tools. What the ancestors
of the Warao and the Buganda used before metal became available is not
known, but there are several varieties of sharp objects in nature—perhaps
seashells for the Warao and stones for the Buganda. The most important
information to be derived from these two case studies is that flutists, wher-
ever they are, figure out how to make their instruments to suit their own
needs and to their own specifications.

A Japanese Case Study

One of the principal traditional flutes from Japan is the shakuhachi (see
chapter 1, figure 2, and chapter 12, figure 17), a vertical bamboo instru-
ment with a ductless mouthpiece (consisting of a beveled or wide notch;
Olsen category 2) and five finger holes (specifically, four finger holes and
one thumbhole). The shakuhachi is one of the few instruments in the world
whose name is derived from its measurements—i [ichi] shaku ha sun—which
translates to (from the Japanese language) “one foot, eight inches” (ap-
proximately one foot, nine and a half inches in American measurement),
the most common length of the instrument for concert use. The shakuhachi
is traditionally made from the root end of a bamboo stalk, which is artifi-
cially opened because the root end is naturally solid. Perhaps because of its
length, plus the fact that it is made from a sturdy stalk of heavy bamboo
(including the root), the shakuhachi (according to folklore) was used as a
club to ward off enemies. The shakuhachi, therefore, is also one of the few
musical instruments whose shape and size have perhaps been determined
by its effectiveness as a weapon. Like musical instruments throughout the
world, many folk tales and myths surround the shakuhachi.
The bamboo used for construction of a traditional shakuhachi is of the
type called madake, preferred because the nodes of an appropriately sized
 T h e M a k i ng of Wor ld Flu t es 23

stalk are properly spaced, and the bamboo is an appropriate thickness for the
instrument. The best age for a bamboo stalk is five years old, and the tube’s
quality, thickness, and weight can be determined by shaking it. After a stalk
has been selected, the fundamental processes of preparing the bamboo are
extensive, often lasting up to ten years, although two years is normal. One
of the most important processes is the preparation of the distal or “bell” end
of the shakuhachi, which is from the root of a bamboo stalk. The shaping
process, called netori, requires cutting, filing, sanding, and polishing of the
many root strands with a “glazed, porcelain teacup.” One Japanese maker
“compares the root end [of a bamboo stalk] to the human head, saying that
as no two heads are the same, no two pieces of bamboo will be the same.”11
The root end, which is naturally solid, must be drilled out after the finger
holes and the mouthpiece are constructed.
Unlike the finger-hole measurements for the construction of Warao and
Buganda flutes (as discussed above), Japanese shakuhachi finger-hole place-
ment relies on an ancient Japanese measuring system based on shaku, sun,
bu, and rin.12 The finger hole closest to the proximal end, called the fourth
finger hole, measures exactly “four bu closer to the mouth end than the
center of the bamboo’s total length [and] the distance between each of the
four holes of the front plane is one tenth the total length of the bamboo.”13
All traditionally made shakuhachi flutes are constructed according to that
measurement scheme. Theoretically, all shakuhachi that measure one shaku,
eight sun14 produce a D when all the finger holes and the thumbhole are
closed.15 Likewise, all shakuhachi that measure one shaku, six sun16 produce
an E when all the finger holes and the thumbhole are closed.17 Going the
other way, all shakuhachi that measure two shaku, five sun18 produce a lower
G when all the finger holes and the thumbhole are closed. Linguistically,
then, only the 1.8 instrument is actually a “shakuhachi,” although the term
is usually used generically to include any sized Japanese notched flute that
is constructed as described above.
There are many other construction details for making a playable and
professional shakuhachi, and most of them are also based on standardized
procedures and measurements. Folklore/mythology or philosophy played
a certain role in the instrument’s construction among shakuhachi players
in the Fuke sect of Buddhism in the late 1600s, as explained by Riley Lee,
who translated a source called Honsoku:
The shakuhachi is an instrument of the Dharma (法器, hôki). There are nu-
merous meanings in the shakuhachi. It is made with three nodes (of bamboo)
and always with two sections, long and short. Each of its features manifests
24 Ch a p t er 2

something. The three joints are the Three Powers [Heaven, Earth and Man].
The two holes, upper and lower, are the Sun and the Moon. The five holes,
front and back, are the Five Elements. It is the profound source of all creation.
Playing [the shakuhachi] imparts the Dharma of the Myriad Things. One’s ego
dissolves into darkness and the objective realm and the [subjective] heart/mind
become oneness.19

While these philosophical ideas are not widely held by modern makers of
the shakuhachi, it is believed that a good piece of bamboo will almost “play
itself” according to Kudo.20 Furthermore, the testing of the nearly finished
product elicits descriptive terms that are almost within the realm of magic
because of their subjective nature. For example, tsumaru means a “stuffy;
choked sound,” burutsuku means “a ‘bubbly’ sound,” and kanbashiru means
a “tendency of a tone to unintentionally ‘jump’ into the higher octave.”21
Indeed, the sound, that is, the tone quality, of the shakuhachi is so impor-
tant that one famous Japanese maker and player, Watazumi Doso Roshi
(1910–92), whom I heard speak and perform at University of California–Los
Angeles in 1970, explained that in the Zen Buddhist tradition of playing
shakuhachi, which he referred to as “blowing the bamboo,” the following
four levels of sound are conceived of as part of Watazumi-do, or the “way
of Watazumi”: (1) breathy sound, (2) regular sound, (3) refined sound, and
(4) soundless sound. When you listen to Watazumi or other great players
perform music derived from or inspired by the Zen Buddhist tradition, you
can hear these different levels. The last is, of course, in the mind—it is almost
like a bell that has stopped ringing, yet you can still hear it ringing. More
about this musical philosophy and mythology is discussed in chapter 12.
While it is only natural to compare these three case-study examples of
Warao and Buganda flute construction methods with each other, to do
so proves nothing in general about world flute construction. Firstly, the
materials from which the flutes are made differ: a deer tibia bone for the
Warao, common reed grass or the hollow stem of the castor oil tree for the
Buganda, and bamboo for the Japanese. Secondly, each culture has its own
requirements, beliefs, and procedures for constructing its flutes. Indeed, the
methods of flute construction around the world are as complex and varied
as the beliefs and traditions of the cultures themselves.

Flute Designs
Just as European-derived orchestral flutes, especially those from the early
1900s, may contain ornate engravings, many other world flutes are also
ornate, even those from ancient times. Many ancient bone notched flutes
 T h e M a k i ng of Wor ld Flu t es 25

(called kena in the Aymara and Quechua languages) from the Peruvian
southern coastal culture of Nasca (ca. 200 b.c.–a.d. 600), for example,
are decorated with numerous dot-filled circles that cannot be accurately
interpreted (see figure 10). While such designs are perhaps not “ornate”
to contemporary cultures, they are certainly extraordinary in that they are
abstract and without logical explanations in today’s understanding. In ad-
dition, they always make me ask, “How did they make such perfect circles
two thousand years ago, without a modern drill press?” Moreover, why did
they do it? So far, there are no answers to these questions.
Most often the designs on bamboo, cane, and wooden flutes are abstract,
although elements from nature like flowers, bamboo, birds, and other ani-
mals are found. Some sao and tieu flutes in Vietnam are made of wood with
such skill that the instruments resemble bamboo. Their tubes are made to
resemble bamboo stalks, complete with the protrusions of the nodes of the
bamboo, except they are finished with a highly polished lacquer surface and
inlayed with mother-of-pearl designs resembling flowers and bamboo plants
(see figures 11 and 12). Some Chinese flutes include engraved designs of
mythological creatures, while others include engravings of modern industrial
scenes. The engraving of a dragon on a modern xiao bamboo notched flute
(Olsen category 4), for example, is an appropriation of one of the oldest
mythological creatures in China, while a modern dizi bamboo transverse

10. A Nasca pelican bone (?) notched-flute with circular ornaments.

Author’s collection, a gift from Sidney Grant. Photograph by Dale A. Olsen.
11. Right to left: A Vietnamese sao (transverse flute) and tieu
(vertical ductless notched flute), both made from lacquered wood
with inlayed mother-of-pearl floral and bamboo plant designs, and
a Chinese xiao and dizi (transverse flute with membrane mirlaton
buzzer), both made from bamboo. Author’s collection.
 T h e M a k i ng of Wor ld Flu t es 27

12. Left to right: Close-ups of oil derricks and other machinery (with clouds or smoke)
on a dizi; engraved designs of a dragon on a Chinese xiao; inlayed mother-of-pearl
bamboo and floral designs on a Vietnamese tieu and sao. Author’s collection.

flute (Olsen category 2), on the other hand, includes engraved designs of
oil derricks and other machinery (see figures 11 and 12). Both dragons and
oil derricks on Chinese flutes and other musical instruments are drawn or
engraved probably more for tourism than reasons of ideology or national-
ism, although the latter industrial motifs can also be thought of as forms of
communist propaganda from the 1980s, which is also an ideological reason
for their existence.
Unless the flute collector can purchase an instrument directly from its
maker, it is often impossible to interpret engravings on musical instruments
beyond mere identification of the motifs. What the motifs mean, with regard
to symbolism, is usually locked up in the minds of the makers or the cultures
that produce them.
A. T. Culwick, a British administrative officer in the East African nation
of Tanganyika (present Tanzania) in the 1930s, interviewed a flute maker
and was able to obtain pertinent information about the designs of a flute,
28 Ch a p t er 2

although the maker’s final conclusion came as a shock to the interviewer,

as the following descriptions reveal:
The three-stop [three finger holes] flute which has been sent to the British
Museum, was made by a hunch-backed Pogoro medicine-man who lives in the
foothills of the Mahenge Massif, Tanganyika Territory. Its owner and maker
played it to me, and considering that it has only three stops he produced a
surprising variety of effects. Sometimes he played it in the normal manner with
lips together, sometimes he sang [hummed] into it with his lips placed in the
position for singing “oo” as in “loop.”
The flute is elaborately carved and the old man proudly explained the mean-
ing of the various designs, which have been reproduced as a rubbing. . . . It
was obvious from his descriptions that the designs fall into two groups, one
of which he called “pictures” and the other “signs.” The central design, a sable
antelope . . . , the human figure . . . behind it, the bows and arrows . . . , and
the large shell konokono . . . are all fairly easily recognizable and belong to the
class of pictures. So do the chevrons . . . , which depict the cicatrization of the
Wangindo, a neighboring tribe, from one of whom the medicine-man learned
how to construct, ornament and play the flute.
The chevron . . . , however, has a different significance, for it is not a picture
at all but a “sign” for the crescent moon, and so comes within the second group.
The other “signs” are the footprints of the marabout stork . . . , a monitor lizard
. . . , an arrow . . . and the red forest duiker.
Both the Wangindo, from whom the old man learned the meaning of the signs,
and his own tribe, the Wapogoro, are extremely primitive, and it was, therefore,
somewhat surprising to hear him make this clear distinction between pictures
of things and signs for things. For instance, pointing to [the figure of the sable
antelope], he said in Kiswahili, “This is a picture (sanamu) of a sable,” but of
[the figure of the red forest duiker], he said, “This is the sign (alama), meaning
a duiker.” When asked why he chose to represent some things pictorially and
others by conventional signs, he merely replied with a smile, “I liked it like
that,” which explains everything!22

While marred by ethnocentrism in my opinion, because of his conclusion

that both the Wapogoro flutist and the flutist’s teacher are “extremely primi-
tive,” which causes Culwick to find it “somewhat surprising” that his infor-
mant can make a “clear distinction between pictures of things and signs for
things,” the flutist concludes the interview by wisely divulging no further
information and simply saying, “I liked it like that!” What this means to
me is that the flute’s designs are probably totemic, ritualistic, secretive, and
powerful, because craftsmen often have meanings attached to their “art”
objects. For example, archaeologist Gregory Mason’s words ring true for
most cultures that give importance to music and its relationship to the su-
 T h e M a k i ng of Wor ld Flu t es 29

pernatural, although he is writing about designs on ancient South American

pre-Columbian flutes and their symbolism: “I am convinced that these rep-
resentations are not the haphazard result of the free play of Indian whim.
Indians never give free play to their imaginations. Every stroke in an Indian
drawing, every geometric line incised on Indian pottery, means something.
The meaning, for the South American Indians, is more often concerned with
magic than with anything else.”23 I believe this statement can be applied to
African cultures as well, such as to the Pogoro example given above and,
in fact, to most cultures. Oftentimes, however, precise meanings are lost,
even to the makers themselves.

Flute Symbolism
Flutes around the world are often metaphors for or symbols of other things.
One of the most common symbolic associations of tubular flutes, for ex-
ample, is with the male anatomy, although there are exceptions. Similarly,
globular flutes are often associated with the female anatomy, although many
ocarinas in the shapes of birds, fish, mammals, and reptiles are symbolic of
the animals themselves. Flute symbolism and gender specificity are addressed
in many of the chapters and stories presented in this book.
As important as symbolism is with regard to flutes, some cultures do not
consider flutes to be musical instruments at all but regard them as meta-
physical tools for supernatural power. While to the ethnomusicologist, they
will perhaps always be flutes that are capable of producing music, to the
cultures themselves they are often tools of the gods or tools for humans to
reach the gods, and their sounds are forms of direct communication between
the supernatural and mortals. In other words, the flutes do not make music,
they talk or think. The next chapter analyzes this concept by looking at in-
digenous perspectives from several cultures, as presented through a number
of legends, poems, and other stories.
Story 3

Manwoldae Is Autumn Grass

Korean Poem from the Late Fourteenth Century

Won Chu n Suk

[*Manwoldae is the Full-Moon Hill, where the Wangs’ palace stood. The
poet sang this song after the fall of the Wang dynasty and the removal of the
royal palace from Songdo (Kaesong) to Hanyang (Seoul). Ha, Poetry and
Music of the Classic Age, 5. Won Chun Suk is a scholar/poet from the final
days of the Koryo Period.]
A monarch’s rise and fall is like the moon’s phases,
O, Manwoldae, now crumbled on the grass!*
The sad strain of the cowherd’s flute
tells the secret story of five hundred years—
Tears overflow this passing poet’s eyes
for the Full-Moon Palace is no more.

Tae Hung Ha, Poetry and Music of the Classic Age (Seoul, Korea: Yonsei Univer-
sity Press, 1958), 4.
Ch a p t er 3

Flutes That Talk

Many flutists in European-derived cultures often refer to their instrument’s

sound as its “voice,” which is usually a reference to its tone color. In the
jazz world, most notably with flutist (and saxophonist) Rahsaan Roland
Kirk, humming into the flute while blowing it during improvisations cre-
ates very raspy tone colors. Flutist D. J. Sterling refers to his own playing/
humming style as “the talking flute,” and others have imitated him.1 This
chapter does not, however, refer to that particular technique of talking
flute—humming into the flute while playing it, although an African coun-
terpart to the technique, which perhaps inspired Kirk, is mentioned in the
previous chapter and is discussed in chapter 14. The flute techniques referred
to in this chapter, rather, are two: imitation of speech tones on a flute and
flute-speak or flute-think.

Flutes That Imitate Speech Tones

Many languages spoken in sub-Saharan Africa are register tone system
languages, whereby relative tones, such as low, middle, and high, are dis-
tinguishing characteristics. The number of relative tones in African tone
system languages varies; the Akan of Ghana, for example, use two tones;
the Yoruba of Nigeria use three; and the Chori of Nigeria use six. Within the
tonal language cultures of Africa, acoustic speech surrogates, that is, sound
substitutes for common words, have been developed and applied by par-
ticular musical instruments, such as tuned membranophones (drums), tuned
idiophones (bells, slit gongs, and xylophones), and aerophones (trumpets
and flutes). In the latter category, flutes (sometimes called “whistles”) can
be used to send messages and communicate lengthier texts, such as epithets,
praises, and proverbs.2 Among the Nigerian Igbo, the oja igede end-blown
32 Ch a p t er 3

flute (Olsen category 2) is used for talking, relaying information, or sending

greetings. In the latter category, one of the greetings is “ekenekwamunuo,”
a five-note melodic phrase that translates as “my greetings to all of you.”3
Seemingly rare today, the tradition exists in French Guiana among the
Aluku maroons, who are descendants of Ghanaian slaves. Papa Tobu, an
Aluku elder, can be seen on the Internet playing a plastic recorder in a photo-
graph taken in 1991 by Diana Baird N’Diaye; he is said to be “reproducing
Aluku speech patterns on a plastic recorder or ‘talking flute.’”4 Papa Tobu
used a plastic recorder to replace a side-blast wooden or horn trumpet called
tutu, with which he could communicate messages by reproducing speech
patterns in the Aluku language.

Flutes That Flute-Speak or Flute-Think

In some cultures, especially those with animistic or shamanistic belief sys-
tems, flutes are believed to speak or think in either an everyday or esoteric
language of the culture to which it pertains—I call this technique “flute-
speak” or “flute-think.” In many cultures from Argentina to Japan and
Korea, talking or thinking flutes are written about in poetry, legends, and
other folk literature, while in Ghana, talking flutes speak directly to present-
day believers, as Kwasi Ampene notes.5

Flutes That Flute-Speak or Flute-Think in Everyday Languages

In the medieval Korean poem (story 3), reference is made to a cowherd’s
flute that “tells the secret story of five hundred years”; it does not refer to
the flute’s music that suggests a story but to the story itself. This particular
poem, however, does not provide the words of the story but just offers the
suggestion from the poet that the cowherd’s flute tells the story. Because of
the use of the words “tells the secret story,” I interpret the flute’s music as
literally speaking the story. How this is possible, however, is not explained;
rather, it is seemingly buried in the culture’s past.
In “Komebukuro and Awabukuro,” a Japanese folk tale from Nanatsuishi
village on the Tsugaru Peninsula in Aomori Prefecture at the northernmost
end of Honshuˉ, a magical hollyhock flute speaks when played by a peasant
girl, as the following except makes clear:
Long, long ago there were two girls, an older sister and a younger sister. The
mother of Komebukuro, the older sister, was dead, and the mother of Awabu-
kuro, the younger sister, was the new mother. The step-mother hated Kome-
bukuro and abused her.
 Flu t es T h at Ta lk 33

One day, when the two sisters went with the village girls to gather chestnuts
in the mountains, the older sister was given an old straw bag with a rotten
bottom, and the younger sister was given a new straw bag. By evening, all the
other girls had filled their bags and wanted to start home, but Komebukuro’s
bag could never be filled because the bottom had come off.
All of her friends went home, leaving Komebukuro alone in the mountains.
She was so hungry that she climbed down to a little stream to drink water.
While she did this, a beautiful little white bird came flying toward her.
“Dear girl, I used to be your mother,” it said. “You are gentle hearted and
obey your present mother well. As a reward, I will give you this padded silk
dress. Keep it hidden in the ground unless something special happens, and then
wear it as your best dress.”
With the dress, she also bestowed upon Komebukuro a flute made of hol-
lyhock and a new straw bag. The girl soon filled the new bag to the brim and
went back home in the night.
Four or five days after this, there was a festival in a neighboring village. The
step-mother dressed Awabukuro in a good dress and set out with her to see it.
When Komebukuro said that she wanted to go, too, the step-mother said,
“After you have spun three skeins of flax, you may come.”
A crowd of Komebukuro’s friends called for her while she was spinning the
flax as fast as she could.
“My mother said that I had to do this work and I cannot go,” she said.
Her friends felt sorry for her, and because they all helped, she finished her task
much sooner than she had thought. Then she took out the silk dress which she
had received from the little white bird, and she put in on and set out looking
quite beautiful with her friends.
As she went along the road blowing the hollyhock flute, the tune seemed to
say,

Whoever hears this little flute,

Birds in flight across the sky,
Rest your wings and listen;
Worms which crawl upon the ground,
Halt your feet and listen.6

Although the flute’s precise spoken words are included in this folktale,
the story admonishes “the tune seemed to say”; furthermore, whether the
flute spoke in the everyday Japanese language or a type of esoteric or se-
cret language is not explained. Additionally, neither an interpretation nor
a contextualization of the flute’s words is suggested. What roles do the
“birds in flight” and the “worms which crawl upon the ground” have with
the outcome of the story, for example? Moreover, of course, worms have
neither feet nor ears. There seems to be no relationship between the animals
34 Ch a p t er 3

mentioned and the plot or moral of the story. Nevertheless, the flute speaks
and commands all who hear it to listen.
Similarly, in a story from South Asia, from the Hindu Bhagavata Purana,
Krishna’s flute “thinks,” in addition to emitting enchanting music, as the
following passage suggests: “It is because the flute continually thought of
Krishna that it gained this bliss.”7 The words thought by Krishna’s flute,
however, are not provided, and like the Korean poem, precisely what Krish-
na’s flute thinks is also locked up in the culture’s past.
In several African cultures, however, words spoken by the flutes are pro-
vided in oral literature and sacred texts. Among the Mande, for example,
a flute that is actually a man speaks the following phrases as it/he seduces
a young maiden: “the flute spoke and said: ‘I want to bathe, too.’ . . . The
flute said: ‘I want to lie down on the bed, too.’ . . . The flute said: ‘Oh, but I’d
like to lie between your breasts.’”8 Because the flute in this story is actually
a man, the fact that it talks is perhaps logical. Once again, how the flute
talks is also buried in the culture’s folkloric past or in its worldview.
In a legend from northern Argentina titled “The Flower of the Lirolay,” a
flute that speaks is actually a young man who was buried alive by his two
older brothers and left for dead at the bottom of a deep hole in the Argentine
countryside. The three brothers were in search of a magical lirolay flower
that would cure their father’s blindness. The father was the king, and the
story explains that whoever found the flower would inherit his kingdom.
After the younger brother finds the flower, has it taken away by his mean
older brothers, and is left buried near a crossroads, the story continues with
the appearance of a talking flute, which is none other than the voice of the
youngest brother:
Shortly before reaching the palace, the two older brothers left the road and dug
a deep hole. There they threw their younger brother in and covered him with
dirt, after first taking the miraculous flower from him.
The impostors arrived home boasting of their success to their blind father,
who regained his eyesight when he underwent the lirolay flower treatment. But
the king’s joy was turned into grief to know that his youngest son had died
during the adventure.
Meanwhile, from the hair of the buried prince sprouted a lush cane field.
A shepherd with his flock passed through the cane field, and thinking that
the field offered a splendid opportunity to make a flute, he cut down a reed.
When the shepherd tested his flute by making tones with his human breath,
the flute spoke these words:

Do not touch me, shepherd,

or permit me to play;
 Flu t es T h at Ta lk 35

my brothers killed me
for the lirolay flower.

The fame of the magic flute reached the ears of the king, who wanted to test
the flute himself; thus, he blew into the flute and heard these words:

Do not touch me, my father,

or let me play;
my brothers killed me
for the lirolay flower.

Then he sent for his remaining two sons to play the flute, and this time the
song went as follows:

Do not touch me, brothers,

or let me play;
because you killed me
for the lirolay flower.

Taking the king to where he had cut the reed for his cane flute, the shepherd
showed him the lush cane fields. They dug out the hole by hand and found the
prince, who, still alive, came out and surprised everyone.
Uncovering the whole truth, the king [was ready to punish] his older sons
to death. However, the young prince not only forgave his brothers but also
pleaded for and convinced the king to forgive them.
The youngest son and finder of the lirolay flower became the new king, and
his family and kingdom lived in peace and abundance for many years.9

It is clear in this legend that the talking flute is actually the voice of the
“dead” brother. In a somewhat similar story from Antigua, British West
Indies, titled “Under the Green Old Oak-Tree,” a flute called “t’ing” made
from the leg bone of a young girl speaks (“t’ing say”) the following words,
as written in Antiguan black English: “My dear moder, my dear moder, it
my dead bone you play.”10

Flutes That Flute-Speak in Esoteric or Secret Languages

In some African contexts, flutes that talk are a part of current practice, and
the flutists whose flutes talk are not transformed humans but messengers
of the divine. Therefore, the “words” of the flutes are understood only by
the religious devotees, musicians, or practitioners for whom the esoteric or
secret flute language is intended. Among the Akan of Ghana, for example, the
odurugya, a notched flute (Olsen category 2), speaks during performances to
the king, known as the Asantehene, who “is the link between the living and
the dead.”11 In one particular instance, the odurugya flute-speaks with its
36 Ch a p t er 3

melody in a type of secret language, repeatedly flute-speaking, “During court

ceremonies associated with adae, festivals, royal funeral rites, or whenever
the king (the Asantehene) sits in state to receive homage from his subjects.”
I have bestirred myself
I have bestirred myself
I have bestirred myself
I have bestirred myself
The Creator’s Drummer says
He has bestirred himself
The Creator’s Drummer says
He has bestirred himself
Akyaa’s Dad Amoa Wusu Ansah e
Osei Tutu the Gracious one [name of present King:
Otumfuo Nana Osei Tutu II]
Akyaa’s Dad Amoa Wusu Ansah e
Osei Tutu the Valiant one
Osei Tutu the Gracious one
The killer of pythons
The Creator’s Drummer says
He has bestirred himself
He has bestirred himself Okoronto
He has bestirred himself thousands will come
He has bestirred himself our benefactor’s son12

This particular example can be seen and heard on YouTube in the first part
of a video titled “Asante traditional music, dance (adowa) and funeral.”13
Although the translation of the flute “words” are not understood except
by the people within the culture, they were transcribed by Akan ethnomu-
sicologist Ampene as written above. About this musical example and the
featured odurugya, the videographer writes the following:
Nana Yaw Opoku Mensah was once a flutist in the courts of the Asantehenes
Nana Prempeh I & Nana Prempeh II and possibly Nana Opoku Ware II early
in his reign. He was 102 in this video and I was told that he was still in good
health in 2006. Nana didn’t know his birthdate but he told me that he was
born a few months before the Yaa Asantewaa War of 1900.
He is playing the “odurugya” which is the traditional cane flute of the Akan.
The song he’s playing I believe is one in the tradition called “Sikabewuepere”
(money’s death pangs), which was popularized during the 1920’s economic
boom in Asante & the Gold Coast Colony.
 Flu t es T h at Ta lk 37

The flute is often used in songs of lamenting or grief. This piece is more of a
recitation than a song really, for the odurugya is a “talking” instrument, which
means that the Akan of antiquity developed a system of encoding their language
into the range of sounds/tones the odurugya makes. One must be immersed in
the “deep structures” of Akan society in order to learn the method of “decod-
ing” the flute language.14

The Akan concept of a secret language with regard to the odurugya is

somewhat similar to the shamanistic chanting among the Venezuelan Warao.
The eldest and most knowledgeable shamans often use words that even they
do not understand because the words are possibly remnants of an ancient
language. Nevertheless, the shamans and the other adult members of a Warao
village recognize the power of the shamanic words, which are necessary for
the proper outcomes of various types of theurgical practices, such as healing,
protection, felling trees for canoe building, collecting and processing yuruma
starch, and others that require communication with their gods.15

Flutes That Transport Words

In traditional Polynesia, nose breath is purer than mouth breath, and nose
flutes are used for particular situations where magical power is needed,
such as enamoring a woman by a man (see chapter 5). In Hawaii, the ’ohe
hano ihu nose flute (Olsen category 4) has another use: Because the player’s
mouth is not used to blow into the instrument, the player can speak words
through his mouth while he is expelling breath through his nose to make
his instrument sound. Moreover, the words are audible enough to be heard
across distances, as Helen Roberts explains:
I have been told by Mrs. Webb that she once heard her grandfather playing the
ohe and she thought as he played it that it sounded as if he were talking, and
she could almost make out the words. She asked him in astonishment if he were
talking and he replied that he was, and presently a neighbor woman came over
who had heard and correctly interpreted his message.16

Roberts also explains in the same source that the Maori of Aotearoa (New
Zealand) were able to “talk” with their flutes, although she does not give
the name for the flute or its type.

In the examples from oral literature presented in this chapter, we see that
only the men are the flute performers. The next chapter discusses the role
gender plays in world flute performances as expressed in folktales and
other stories.
Story 4

Culture Heroes Discover

the First Flutes
Wogeo culture, New Guinea

[Among the Wogeo of New Guinea, two women discovered how to make
the first flutes, which were taken away by a boy.]

A culture heroine of Maluk village became ill during pregnancy and died.
Her parents buried the body under the house, as was the custom. The em-
bryo in her womb did not perish, however, and when born it kept itself alive
underground by sucking the sticky white sap from the roots of a breadfruit
tree standing close by. The child grew and grew, and one day the old couple
heard it crying. They at once exhumed it and recognized the little boy it had
now become as a grandson, whom they decided to call Nat Karamwang
(literally “man locust”).
Sometime later, when Nat Karamwang had reached adolescence, two
heroines, Malaun and Sinamo, from the neighboring island of Koil, dreamed
the notion of making flutes (all inspiration is supposed to come in this way
during sleep). They selected two bamboos, cut them to size, and bored a
hole near the end. At once both instruments began piping of their own ac-
cord––something like a music box. Overjoyed, the women took a drum and
danced till they became exhausted. Then they stoppered the hole and went
off to the gardens. Nat Karamwang heard the sound all the way across the
water and, boylike, was curious. He paddled over in his canoe, found one of
the flutes, removed the stopper, and blew into the hole. The noise disturbed
the women, who came back to investigate. They started to explain that
there was no need for the mouth to be near the hole, but Nat Karamwang,

Reprinted by permission of Waveland Press, Inc., from Ian Hogbin, The Island of
Menstruating Men: Religion in Wogeo, New Guinea (Long Grove, IL: Waveland
Press, Inc., 1970, reissued 1996), 100–101. All rights reserved.
 Cult u r e H eroes Discov er t h e First Flu t es 39

too excited to pay attention, kicked them out of the way. “Very well, Nat
Karamwang, you think you know everything?” they shouted in anger. “But
perhaps this will surprise you. Because you’ve stolen for yourself something
we’d intended for everybody, no female will from now on look at a flute or
have anything to do with one. You males can keep them. And listen? Flutes
won’t sing by themselves again––you decided to blow this one, and that’s
the way it shall be. We say to you also that learning what to do won’t be
easy—no, you’ll have to work hard and sweat. A last warning––and this is
the truth. If lads of your size don’t make the effort to blow properly they’ll
never never never grow up to be men.”
Malaun and Sinamo then set off in disgust for the New Guinea mainland,
where for a period they remained. They always declined to go back to Koil
or, with scorn, to visit Wogeo, the home of Nat Karamwang; but eventu-
ally each did return to the Schouten group, one to Kadovar, the other to
Blupblup. Nowadays suitable bamboo for flutes grows therefore only in
the three places, the mainland and these two islands. The Wogeo people
assert that when a suitable clump has been found the canes are always cut
so that, “out of respect,” they fall in the direction of the village where the
earliest flutes were invented.
Ch a p t er 4

Flutes and Gender Roles

The title of this chapter is, perhaps, misleading because gender is not only
a factor that determines flute players in many cultures but is also a factor
pertaining to the flutes themselves. For example, while some cultures select
which gender—male, female, or neuter—plays flutes, some also attach a
gender to the musical instruments. This chapter begins with flute playing
and gender specificity and concludes with flutes and gender specificity.

Flute Playing and the Reversal of Social Order

In most world cultures during modern times, traditional flute playing is
limited to men rather than women; North American concert music traditions
are an exception, however. This has not always been the case, according to
what we can learn from mythology, which tells us that women at one time
were the original flute players, but they had their flutes taken away from
them by the men. In anthropology, this is known as a reversal of social order,
and mythology is often the only record of such musical behavior because
it happened in ancient times, before ethnographic and historical research.1
In story 4 about the sacred flutes of the Wogeo people of New Guinea,
women were the inventors of the flutes, learning how to make them in a
dream. Their powerful flutes were capable of playing themselves, and it was
not necessary to blow into them. As the story explains, the flutes were taken
away by a young man, who could sound them only by blowing into them.
From that point on, the women inventors chose never to play the sacred
flutes again, explaining that the flutes will never play themselves again and
that the men will have to struggle to play them, even to the extent that young
players will not grow to be men if they do not play the flutes correctly.
Called nibek today by the Wogeo, the same word for male spirit ogres,
 Flu t es a n d Ge n der Rol es 41

the for-males-only flute is believed to have a body like a large stone, many
legs like those of a centipede, and a head like a snake with a mouth that can
open wide, like a snake’s mouth. To complete the snake/ogre metaphor, the
Wogeo believe the flutes’ sounds are the voices of the snake-like ogres, and
during initiation into the male nibek cult, the men say they are devoured by
the ogres. While this story explains the reversal of social order, it does not
detail the various sexual metaphors associated with the flutes or their use
by their new male owners as well as the former female owners. That type of
knowledge exists, of course, and has been written down by anthropologists
and others who, after months or years living with the cultures, observing
them, asking questions, and even sometimes participating in their daily
activities and rituals, make many analyses and conclusions.2
Among the Usarufa of New Guinea, flutes were also originally played by
the women, according to ethnomusicologist Vida Chenoweth. When the men
first heard them, they thought they were sounds coming from the women’s
mouths. Believing that the flutes were the source of the women’s strength,
they took them away from the women and forbade them to ever look at
or listen to the flutes. A village elder explained the culture’s flute beliefs to
Darlene Bee in 1961, which was later paraphrased by Chenoweth: “The
flutes are to be heard but not seen by women or children. The Europeans
saw and heard them, and now the government and Mission people have
brought them into the open. Now I am playing it into your machine. . . . In
the past, if any woman saw the flutes, she would be cursed by sorcery and
shot to death with arrows. The sound used to attract the women because
they did not know what it was. As they approached the flutes, the men
would take their bows and shoot them.” Today, Usarufa women are still
frightened when they hear the “secret flutes” being played––the men tell the
women the sounds are made by birds.3
The Warao also have a myth about a flute and the reversal of social order.
Among the Warao of mythological times, their flute was called harihari
(Olsen category 4). Antonio Lorenzano, a powerful Warao shaman who
was one of my informants and my muhusemoi flute teacher, explained to
me that the harihari was the most important instrument associated with
Haburi, the culture hero and inventor of all flutes. Several Warao narratives
describe situations when Haburi plays a harihari, but one, in particular,
called “The Story of Haburi,” explains how a female shaman gave the in-
strument to Haburi when he was just a boy: “Wau-uta [a female shaman]
made the child [Haburi] grow all at once into a youth, and gave him the
harri-harri to blow and the arrows to shoot. As [Haburi’s] mother and aunt
were returning with the casava [manioc], they heard the music playing and
42 Ch a p t er 4

said to themselves, ‘There was no man or boy there when we left the house;
who can it be? It must be a man playing.’ And though ashamed they went
in and saw the youth blowing the harri-harri.”4 This narrative suggests
that Wau-uta, a woman, was the first possessor and perhaps inventor of
the Warao flute. Because flutes among today’s Warao are exclusively men’s
instruments, this narrative suggests a reversal of the social order, although
the last line suggests that the other women, namely Haburi’s mother and
aunt, were “ashamed” to see the flute, perhaps because of a taboo that has
not been carried down to the present. In some cultures, several in New
Guinea, it is taboo for a woman to look upon a flute, and she may be put
to death if she happens to see one.
A similar reversal of gender roles also occurred among the Brazilian Mun-
durucú. According to their myth about the origin of their sacred trumpet
called karökö, the women originally owned and played it, and it was later
taken away from them by the men.5 Among the Wakuénai of the Venezuelan
Amazon, however, the opposite is true. Sacred flutes and trumpets originally
belonged to and were played by the men only. The instruments were later
stolen by the women and then stolen back by the men. Today, among the
Wakuénai, women are not allowed to play or see flutes, as the women and
their children are confined to seclusion within the village ceremonial house.6

Flute Playing and Gender Specificity

Occasionally, women play flutes in folk tales and mythology, although such
stories are not as common as stories about male flutists. An exception,
however, is the following story about a female flutist among the Thompson
Indians of British Columbia, Canada:
The boy left, and reached the place the old women told him about. There he
found the spot where the maidens bathed. He hid in a hole a short distance away.
Daylight came. Soon he heard the sound of a flute approaching over the water.
As soon as it descended to the ground, it became visible, and the boy saw a lovely
girl. She put down the flute, took off her clothes, and bathed. The boy felt like
choosing her, but restrained himself. She left the same way she came. Soon the
notes of a flute came again from the direction of the house. This daughter came
the same way as the first, but more hesitating. At last she descended, disrobed
and bathed. She was more lovely than the first. It was hard work for the boy
to restrain himself. She left too. Soon he heard the notes of a flute again. This
daughter hesitated a long time, then descended. She looked very timid. She
put her flute down and disrobed. She was the loveliest girl he had ever seen.
When she was in the water bathing, the boy rushed out and sat on her clothes.
 Flu t es a n d Ge n der Rol es 43

When she came out, she asked for her clothes. He said, “No, you must be my
wife.” She coaxed for her flute, but the boy refused. At last she consented to
be his wife. He took his wife in one hand, and the flute in the other, and spoke
to his iron rod (the boy’s magic wand). Immediately they were transported to
his godmother’s house. The boy gave the flute to his godmother and told her
to hide it and never let his wife see it. The girl gave him a ring which he wore.
After they stayed there for two or three months, the boy had to leave for a
while. He warned his godmother to be careful about his wife’s flute. Then he
left. His wife was discontented and homesick. She refused to eat, and became
thin and sick. She did this purposely. She said to the old woman, “I am very sick
and I’m going to die soon, the only way to save me is to give me the flute.” The
old woman refused. Then the wife said, “Well, even if I only see it at a distance,
it will do some good.” At last the godmother was sorry. She thought, “No harm
can come if she only sees it.” She showed it at a distance, and the girl was glad.
The girl asked to see it closer, and the old woman brought it nearer. Then the
girl said, “Let me feel it. I will get quite well.” The godmother thought, “If I hold
it, she won’t be able to get it.” The girl touched it, and immediately the flute
and girl disappeared. The old woman was afraid of her godson. When he came
back, she told him. He said, “Well, all right. I’ll go after her.” He was very sad.7

In this flutetale about a female flutist, the heroine is a supernatural entity

who changes herself into a beautiful human in order to bathe; overcome
by a young man who steals her magical flute, she consents to marry him.
Later, unhappy and in poor health, she changes herself back into an im-
mortal with the assistance of her flute and instantly disappears. The man,
her husband, is also not without his magical paraphernalia—an iron rod.
While he is probably not an immortal, he may be a shaman. As such, this
story could also be discussed in “Supernatural Origins of Flutists and Flute
Heroes” in chapter 8. Such is the nature of the flute and flutists in flutelore.
Another place where women as well as men play flutes is Goodenough
Island in Melanesia, according to folklore. In the following folktale, Kulele’s
flute, a nose flute, is made from her very own left ulna, or armbone:
Kulele lived alone with her mother. She was very beautiful and had a flute like
a bone in her upper arm. Every night she would play it by drawing out the
bone and pushing it in again. It was melodious like . . . the sweet songs of birds.
Yaloaiwau, a big-man, held a drum festival in his village. Kulele donned an
old and wrinkled skin and went to the feast. People were disgusted and spat at
her. But Yaloaiwau told them, “she has come because of our name; you must
not spit at her.” And he gave her betel nut and pepper leaf. When Kulele went
home her mother asked if anyone had been kind to her. “The big-man,” she
said. “Then he will be your husband.” Kulele went to the feast several times in
the guise of a disgusting old women. People always spat at her but Yaloaiwau
44 Ch a p t er 4

was always solicitous. On the night the festival was to finish, Kulele’s mother
told her to go and marry the big-man. She decorated herself and did not don
the old skin. She was beautiful. . . . When she walked into the village . . . all the
men wanted to marry her. Yaloaiwau and his first wife made room for her on
the sitting platform above the crowd, and Kulele sat between them. Then she
played her flute and people were entranced and came close to listen. Later they
slept. Yaloaiwau’s son . . . was curious about his step-mother’s flute. While she
slept he uncovered it and tried to play it by pulling and pushing. He broke it
and she died. The boy woke his father and all the people. They were dismayed,
and buried her. The old woman refused to come, saying she would mourn in
her house, but asked only that they cut off Kulele’s hair and send it to her
for her remembrance. . . . The old woman put her daughter’s hair in a bowl,
poured water on it, and stirred until the girl came to life again. Then she sent
for Yaloaiwau. . . . He was very ashamed and refused to come, for widowers do
not venture into their dead wives’ hamlets. The old woman . . . persuaded him
to enter the house, though he wept with shame. Then he saw Kulele and they
wept and embraced. The old woman warned her son-in-law to look after her
daughter, and never touch her flute, for if she died again it would be forever.

The Melanesian narrator of this story explained that Kulele’s “flute” is called
yawai, meaning “breath” or “life.” Scholar Michael W. Young explains that
breath is the life of a flute, and because Kulele’s life was in her bone flute, she
died when the bone was broken.8 Breath, as the essence of life, is obviously
one of the most important human elements in all cultures. How relevant,
then, for Kulele’s flute to mean “breath” and also “life,” as they are two
inextricably linked concepts (nose flutes and breath are discussed in chapter
12). Without the one there cannot be the other. Thus, it is understandable
that the death of Kulele’s flute results in her own death because she and her
flute are one and the same. A particular thread seems to run through these
two stories and others that pertain to female flutists: death (discussed in
“Flutes and Death to Self,” chapter 10).

Flutes and Gender Specificity

Tubular flutes are most often male gender specific because of their phallic
shapes, although as discussed in “Fish as Flutists, Flutes as Fish,” chapter
6, they can be female.9 Among the Desana subtribe of the Tukano Indians
of the Amazonian rainforest of Colombia, panpipes are played by boys
and men, and the instruments have a varying number of tubes depending
on the musician’s age and development of his sexual organs. For example,
boys aged five through nine play panpipes of three tubes; at puberty, they
play four or five tubes; and adult men play panpipes that have eight or nine
 Flu t es a n d Ge n der Rol es 45

tubes. This arrangement is determined by the development of the musician’s

testicles—the more developed they are, the more tubes the male musician
plays on his panpipe: “The instrument and the sounds it produces—sus-
tained whistles—symbolize male sexuality, first latent, then fully developed.
The act of playing the instrument is compared directly with the sex act.”10
Even though the panpipes have “maleness” associated with them, they are
played in instrumental pairs that are called male and female, a practice
that does not represent an inconsistency, but is symbolic of completeness,
fertility, and power, through a metaphor of dualism.
Among the Sambia of New Guinea, ritual flutes are also played in pairs
that are considered male and female: “The flutes themselves are always
played in pairs. . . . One flute is longer and wider, the so-called ‘female flute.’
The other is shorter and narrower, the ‘male flute.’” The flutes are only played
by men, and women and children are forbidden to see them. Nevertheless,
the spirit associated with them is Aatmwogwambu, a female hamlet spirit
who “is a powerful, localized spirit associated with the deceased female el-
ders of a village setting. . . . Her voice is the sound of the ritual flutes, called
namboolu ambelu, or ‘female frog.’”11 This belief that the spirit associated
with the flutes is female strongly supports the concept of flute playing and
the reversal of social order.
As tubular flutes are mostly symbolic of maleness, globular flutes (oca-
rinas) are often symbolic of femaleness. The female sexual symbolism of a
small globular flute among the Desana is described:
An instrument that, until some two or three generations ago, was very charac-
teristic of the Desana but today is found only in a few isolated regions is a kind
of flute or ocarina made of pottery. The object is shaped like two cones joined
at their bases and open at one end. As this opening is touched rhythmically
with the palm of the hand, one blows over the circular orifice located on the
upper surface. This instrument is called gahpí soró and symbolizes the vagina
of the Daughter of the Sun.12

Such female symbolism of the globular flute is not found elsewhere, to my

knowledge.
Overt sexual symbolism of tubular flutes and globular flutes is the sub-
ject of the next chapter, which discusses flutes, sexuality, and love magic.
This constitutes one of the largest symbolic categories for flutes in world
flutelore and is related to later chapters on flutes and fertility, flutes and
the seasons, and many other topics. Story 5 offers many details about the
Lakota Sioux flute and its power to attract a mate; the story also provides
important details about flute construction and the myths relating to that
construction that give the flute its power.
Story 5

The Story of the Flutemaker

Lakota culture, United States of America

Joseph M. M a rsh all

Beneath the low branches of an old cedar he awoke to a cool breeze caress-
ing his face. For a moment Cloud wondered where he was, and why. Then
he remembered what had brought him to this grassy bed beneath the cedar,
and the pain of remembering took his breath away.
“My father has accepted the gifts brought by Hollow Horn,” Dawn
Woman had told Cloud after he had waited for an entire evening by the
trail to the river. “Hollow Horn is a fine man and a good provider. He will
take good care of me.”
“But you are always in my thoughts. You have been in my heart since
we were small children. Have you forgotten the promises we made to each
other?” he had pleaded.
“We were only children,” she had replied. “And what is the promise of a
boy against the harshness of life?”
“My promise is everything I have,” he had said. “There was a time it made
your heart fly. And you cannot tell me that the thought of me will not do
so again and again.”
Cloud had watched as Dawn Woman walked away into the twilight,
soon to be the wife of Hollow Horn. Driven by a cold, sickening pain that
shriveled his very being, he had crossed the river and run across the prairies.
Trying to outrun the pain in his heart, he ran until his legs drained of all
their strength, and all he could do was roll beneath a tree. Only with sleep
did the pain subside. But now it returned like a raging flood.
There was nothing he could do but curl up in a ball. He lay like a stone

“Story of the Flutemaker” from The Lakota Way by Joseph M. Marshall, copy-
right © 2001 by Joseph M. Marshall III. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a
division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
 T h e Story of t h e Flu t e m a k er 47

as the morning wore on. A blackbird alighted in the branches above him.
Ants crawled over him, but he paid no heed, his eyes open but unseeing.
When the sun was near to the middle of the sky, the wind sprang up. Only
when he heard a faint, mournful voice did he begin to stir, and then only
because the voice echoed what he felt in his broken heart.
The voice grew louder as the wind blew harder, and it faded when the wind
abated. Cloud thought it was his own voice crying out the pain in his heart
because it was such a hollow, haunted tone rising and floating aimlessly.
Not knowing why, he decided to find who or what the voice belonged to.
Scrambling from beneath the cedar branch he stumbled through the grove
of trees along a creek.
Something drew him to a particular old, wind-bent cedar as the plaintive
voice grew louder. There, halfway up was a dead branch smaller than his
wrist. A hollow branch with holes, perhaps drilled by woodpeckers. And
with each gust of wind, the branch seemed to cry. Cloud had found the voice.
He sat and listened, held fast by the mournful tones that rose and fell with
the whim of the wind. At sundown the wind weakened, and so did the voice.
Cloud climbed the old cedar and inspected the hollow branch. It was long
dead, he could tell, killed by the worms that the woodpeckers were drilling
for. In doing so they had opened holes through which the wind flowed and
unlocked the strange, mournful voice.
Cloud broke off the branch and climbed down. He sat on the creek bank
and blew through the hollow opening, but the voice didn’t cry. He noticed
that it was like the eagle bone whistle his father had given him and thought
it might function much the same.
Placing a small piece of wood over the top hole he was able to coax
sound from the hollow branch. At first it was simply noise, but eventually
he began to make it sing somewhat like the wind had.
As the sun went down, Cloud paused long enough to gather dry wood
and build a fire. He had no food and his only means of protection was the
stone knife in his belt. It did not matter, for his heart was broken. If the great
silvertip bear came in the night or some enemy was even now stalking him,
he was already dead inside. Dawn Woman was to be the wife of Hollow
Horn and bear his children. Life had no meaning.
He kept the fire going far into the night as he sat and blew and blew on
the hollow branch. He found that placing his fingertips over the five holes
would lower or raise the pitch. Moreover, when he coaxed the voice from
the branch, it strangely eased the pain in his heart. So, of course, he blew and
made the branch sing until once again he dropped over from exhaustion.
48 Story 5

Morning found him curled next to the cold, gray ashes of his fire pit, his
arms around the hollow branch. He awoke lost, unkempt, and hungry, his
heart still torn. Stumbling to the creek, he washed his face and took a long
drink and in the water he saw a lonely young man.
He stayed in the grove all day, blowing on the hollow branch. By sundown
he could make the branch sing better than the wind had. Through it came
the voice of his grief-stricken heart, rising and falling with high and low
plaintive notes. Cloud decided that the voice of the branch sounded much
like the great cranes that flew overhead each spring and fall. With his knife
he carved the end of the branch into the shape of a crane’s head and bill. As
he made the branch sing, the land and everything on it fell silent listening
to the voice of a broken heart.
Another night came, another lonely fire. Another dawn found him next to
cold ashes with his pain. Hunger he could push aside, but the only medicine
for the pain in his heart was the singing hollow branch. Because he and the
wind had given the branch a voice, he decided to call it hokagapi, or “to
make a voice.” It was, of course, a flute.
Another day passed. Cloud blew on his flute and let it cry for him, giving
voice to the bottomless pain in his heart. Now and then he paused to work
on the flute—reshaping the mouthpiece or making all the finger holes the
same size.
He had not eaten for three days. Weak and delirious, he thought he saw
Dawn Woman standing by the side of his fire. When he reached out for her,
she ran away, or so he thought. So, he followed. After a time, he simply
wandered across the prairie playing the flute, not caring where he was going.
Cloud awoke from a delirious sleep to find himself next to a river. Washing
his face and taking a drink, he staggered to the shade of a tree and began
blowing on his flute to chase away the pain in his heart. The notes flowed
from his flute, rising, falling, and sobbing, crying out the anguish from deep
inside. Suddenly, Cloud heard voices and opened his eyes to realize that he
was on the riverbank opposite his own village. In his delirium he had found
his way home. All the women in the village, young and old, were standing
on the other bank staring at him and listening to him play his flute. Among
them was Dawn Woman.
The pain of losing her engulfed him like a flash flood. All he could do was
blow on the flute and let it cry his anguish. The lilting voice of the flute rose
and fell, sighing and sobbing in soft, heartbreaking notes. Cloud noticed
that the women were as drawn to the sound of the hollow branch as he had
been when he first heard it. There was not a single man in the crowd, only
 T h e Story of t h e Flu t e m a k er 49

women: old women, young women, and girls all entranced by the crying
flute, including Dawn Woman.
Certain that, by now, she was the wife of Hollow Horn, Cloud’s grief
poured out through his flute. Soon Dawn Woman crossed the river and stood
before him, her eyes down but casting frequent bold glances as the flute sang.
“There was a time when a young man I knew made my heart fly,” she
said softly.
Cloud stopped playing.
“Now he sings a strange song that makes my heart sad. What are you
doing to me?”
“I am giving my pain a voice,” he replied, “because the young woman
in my heart has become the wife of another. The spirits have given me this
hokagapi to do so. I can no longer make her heart fly.”
“Can your hokagapi sing out in joy?” Dawn Woman asked.
“I can give it no joy, for I do not feel it, and it is I who give this thing its
voice.”
“But I feel joy at your return,” she said. “After you left I knew that life’s
path without you would be lonely. For you see, you are in my heart, and
always will be. I have taken no husband, unless it would be you.”
Cloud could not believe his ears, but saw the truth in Dawn Woman’s
eyes. His heart flew and he began playing his flute. This time, the flute’s
song was that of promise, of hope, and joy, rising and falling like the wind
dancing on the prairies. A song of life.
Once again all the women were enthralled, drawn to the voice of the flute.
The years went by and to the union of Cloud and Dawn Woman were
born two sons. As they grew, Cloud taught them to play the flute, and he
became known far and wide as the Flutemaker. Young men and boys came
to Cloud and asked to learn, and so he taught them all to make and play
the flute. And he told them how the spirits had guided him to find the ho-
kagapi, taking him from the despair of a broken heart to the joy of a dream
fulfilled. That is why, he would tell them, there will always be a hollow tone
of sadness in the voice of each flute, to remind everyone that while the flute
is played to win love, winning love is also winning the chance of a broken
heart. Such is love.
Thereafter on summer evenings, when the fireflies twinkled in the dusk,
flutes could be heard singing sweetly, provocatively, up and down the river
valleys, their voices touching the heart of any woman, young or old.
Hokagapi, the flute, born of despair, became the voice of courtship, of
promise, of hope—and of love.
Ch a p t er 5

Flutes, Sexuality, and Love Magic

“The Story of the Flutemaker” (story 5), told by a Lakota storyteller, is a

touching story of love lost, anguish, despair, love found, and the magical
power of the Native American courting flute (Olsen category 3; figures 13
and 14) to provide comfort for the flutist named Cloud and, unbeknownst
to him until it happens, the ability to enamor his beloved Dawn Woman
and attract all the other women in the vicinity as well. This Lakota myth
of loneliness, longing, courtship, and joy stresses the flute’s importance in
the journey and transformation of the flute culture hero Cloud. Three epic
archetypes establish this myth, according to Bret Woods: “First, when Cloud
descends into despair, he is awakened by the wind––an important aspect of
Lakota culture wherein significant events are marked by holy spirits (sapa).
Second, Cloud’s journey takes him through the wilderness where he fasts
and plays the flute, a period of liminality where he explores his despair
through this gift from the wind. [Third,] the river, an important symbolic
border between despair and joy, is crossed and Cloud is reunited with his
true love [Dawn Woman], who is entranced with the sounds of the flute.”1
The hokagapi is a gift from the spirits who teach Cloud how to play it; how-
ever, he learns to master it through his own perseverance and musical skills.
Many of the flute tales found in the world have to do with sexuality and
magical love powers used by men to attract and woo a woman. How does
flute love magic work, and what makes it so powerful?2 According to Charles
Lafayette Boilès’s parameters for the study of magic, love magic is almost
exclusively direct magic from an agent (the male flutist) to a recipient (the
woman), via a magical force (the flute).3
13. Native American courting flutes. Left, Lakota Sioux,
cedar, with carved crane or merganser head at distal end;
right, Comanche, cedar. Author’s collection.
52 Ch a p t er 5

14. A Lakota man playing a Native American courting flute during

a public symposium at the 1988 National Conference of the College
Music Society, Saint Louis, Missouri. Photograph by Dale A. Olsen.

Flutes and Flute Sounds as Masculine Love Magic

Physical, acoustical, musical, and spiritual attributes exist to make flute
love magic possible. The physical element is the flute itself, which has the
mechanics to produce the acoustical element or the flute’s whistle sound.
The player has the musical prowess to produce the proper music or “song,”
often provided to him by spiritual powers that are the extramusical forces
that give the entire “courting” or “love” flute event its power.
Nowhere, it seems, is the flute a more powerful instrument for attract-
ing a female by its male player than among the North American Native
peoples, as in story 5. The Native American flute is so linked to courting
and love that it is often called a courting flute or love flute.4 Billy Mike, a
Mountain Ute, explained that the Native American courting flute had to be
“tuned to match the sound of the young man’s voice” so the young woman
he was courting would be able to recognize him; moreover, he told how the
flutist would tie a strand of his girlfriend’s hair “onto the flute so that only
she would hear the song.”5 This is a type of sympathetic magic because a
particular aspect of the flute’s power—the recognition of the song by only
one particular girl—is derived from a piece of the girl’s hair used for the
flute’s construction.
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 53

Richard Erdoes and Alfonso Ortiz describe another type of magic associ-
ated with the Native American flute of the Plains region:
In many tribes, the flute was an instrument used only for courting. Its sound
was said to resemble the call of the elk, whose powerful medicine made a man
irresistible. If a man drew elk tracks on a small mirror and then flashed the
sun’s rays from it onto a girl’s face or heart, she was immediately his. There are
also tales of men whose flutes and melodies had such power that any woman
who heard them would follow the sound and surrender herself to the player.
The Sioux even tell of women who were so excited by their lovers’ music that
their noses started to bleed.6

This could be referred to as natural magic, whereby a powerful element

of nature is used as a metaphor for the power desired by a man. Richard
W. Payne summarizes the knowledge of one of his Sioux informants, Dick
Foolbull, about the natural powers of the elk, prairie chicken, and crane as
metaphors for the magical powers of the courting flute:
Elk is an important symbol of courting vigor among the Sioux. During mating
season the bull elk will service as many as fifty to sixty elk cows. This macho
along with his bugling (which sounds like a high-pitched flute) provides refer-
ence to the flute. The greater prairie chicken is also totemic of love charm as
suggested by his elaborate courting dance accompanied by great puffing of his
wattles much as seen in the flute player—indeed the flute is called “Siyotanka”
by the Sioux, in reference to this bird. A third animal signifying sexual powers
is the Sandhill Crane whose long neck, which can be retracted and extended
to a remarkable degree, provides sexual allusion.7

In story 5, Cloud carved the distal end of his flute to resemble the head
and beak of a crane (see figure 13), although his reason for doing so was
because “the voice of the branch sounded much like the great cranes that
flew overhead each spring and fall.” This can still be viewed as a type of
natural magic, wherein the natural voice of the crane gives the flute its
magical voice.
In another story, “The Legend of the Flute,” from the Brule Sioux, the
flute called siyotanka is used to enamor a woman, although no reference is
made to the metaphorical natural magical sexual powers of greater prairie
chicken; rather, it is the special song played on the flute that has the power
to charm the woman.8 So powerful was the song as played by a poor young
hunter on his courting flute called siyotanka that the chief’s daughter could
not stop her feet from running to him. She could not resist the young hunter.
Saying “I am yours,” right then and there the poor hunter and the chief’s
daughter laid down together under a single blanket and made love. But,
54 Ch a p t er 5

the relationship did not stop there; they married, and like his father-in-law,
the hunter became a great chief. This impressed the other young men, and
they, too, made courting flutes for themselves.
While such stories of successful love magic of the Native American flute
are most common among Native American Plains cultures, sometimes the
magic does not work. In a Lakota folktale “Oh, It’s You!” the ugliness of
the flute player is greater than the magic of his flute, as the telling of an
excerpt from the story makes clear:
Iktomi, who was also known as Spider-Man, was always horny and all he ever
thought about was sex. A certain beautiful young woman lived in his village
and Itkomi was infatuated with her. She had big, dark, wanton eyes, long shiny
dark hair, a voluptuous figure, and a very sexy walk and demeanor. All he could
think about was how he could share a blanket with her. Iktomi, however, had
two strikes against him: he was very ugly and he was already married.
Nevertheless, one day he went down to the creek where the women always
go to fill their water containers, and he waited for the woman of his dreams.
When she finally came to fetch water, Iktomi played a love song on his siyotanka
or courting flute, and hoped to woo her with its magical love power. When she
heard the music and saw Iktomi, however, she let him know with her facial
expressions that she was repulsed by him and would never ever let him get close
to her.
Iktomi, the ugly flute player, had no chance with the young maiden, even
though he persisted day after day. Knowing he was already married, the young
maiden and Iktomi’s wife decided to trick him and give him a beating from his
wife. After the beating, Iktomi was repentant for a short time, saying “Ow, stop,
have pity, wife! I’ll never be unfaithful again.” Although the beating made him
sore for quite a while, he could not stop his sexual urges for other women, and
soon he was down by the creek again, playing his love songs on his siyotanka.9

This flutetale contradicts the more common stories that tell of the love power
of the Lakota courting flute for its male player. Normally, a woman cannot
resist the love songs played on the siyotanka or hokagapi. However, it ap-
pears that a player’s lack of morals, bad behavior, evil intent, and insincerity
counteract the love power of the flute. In other words, when the courting
flute is played by a spiritually undeserving man, the power is negated.
In the Polynesian culture of Hawai’i, an origin myth for the ancient ’ohe
hano ihu nose flute explains its construction and magical power to success-
fully charm a woman by its male player:
Once upon a time there was a prince who lived on the mountain top above
Waialua, Kauai. He was looked upon with much favor by one of the gods.
This god, seeing the prince’s loneliness, decided to teach him how to win for
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 55

a bride the princess living below him in the valley on the bank of the river.
So the god came to the prince and told him to get a piece of bamboo, about
a foot and a half long, to cut off one end of it short at the node, and to leave
the other end open. When the prince had done this, the god next instructed
him to bore a single nose hole in the side of the stick of bamboo, as near the
closed end as possible. Finally the prince was told to bore three finger holes.
Now the god taught the prince how to play his new instrument by supplying
it with air from his right nostril. Under his divine teacher, the prince soon
became very skillful in playing the entrancing new instrument. Then came the
time for the test. On a still, windless day the prince went to the edge of the
mountain above the valley of Waialua and played his sweetest melody (even
syncopating the notes here and there). Below in the valley the lovely Hawaiian
princess was sleeping when to her ears came a clear, soft, sweet tone such as
she had never heard before. Awakening, she followed the sound, accompanied
by protesting members of her court. Up the brow of the mountain she climbed,
swiftly and lightly as a gazelle, until finally she came upon the prince. To her
delight, she found the musician as handsome as his music was beautiful, and
soon after she became his bride. Since that time the ’ohe has been chiefly an
instrument for lovers.10

In Polynesian culture, it is believed that the breath coming from a player’s

nose is more auspicious and powerful than breath from the mouth. Serge
Kahili King provides the following about the ’ohe hano ihu and its nose
breath power for love:
’Ohe means “bamboo,” hano means “to glorify” and “to breathe strongly,”
as well as “flute,” and ihu means “nose.” In ancient times the hano was used to
woo a lover, partly because of its sweet sound, partly because of the meaning
of the word hano, and partly because the manner of playing was a reminder
of the Hawaiian style of kissing. The Hawaiian kiss, called honi, was actually
a touching of noses side to side in order to inhale each other’s aroma and to
share the life force or breath of the other.11

In King’s explanation, there is no mention of magic but rather, closeness,

tenderness, and the sharing of breath, the life source or soul of individuals
in Polynesian belief.
The following flutetale from Egypt, “The Black Prince,” is about how
magic causes a flutist to lose the love of his life:
In ancient Egypt, there was a boy who everyone thought was lazy, stupid, and
ugly. The only thing it seemed he cared about was playing his homemade flute,
which he would play all day long. Even his mother thought that he was worth-
less. “Oh, that lazy, stupid, and ugly boy,” she would groan. “He will probably
just fall into the river some day and drown.”
56 Ch a p t er 5

One day, the boy wandered into a part of the city that he had never visited
before. He came upon a beautiful, walled garden where he saw a beautiful girl
sitting by a pool, dipping her fingers into the water. She was so lovely that he
fell in love with her and came every day to sit on the wall and play his feelings
for her on his flute. She never looked at him or acknowledged his presence
but simply sat there day after day by the pool. He dreamed of one day enter-
ing the garden, professing his love for her, taking her into his arms, and living
happily with her ever after. But he never did. “I’m too stupid and ugly for her,”
he thought.
One day, he heard some people talking about the daughter of the Pharaoh,
whose name was Princess Thudmos, and they described the garden where she
spent her days. The boy realized that he had fallen in love with a princess! He
knew a princess would never love a poor boy who was lazy, stupid, and ugly.
Heartbroken, he wandered all night. At dawn, he heard some merchants talking
about a powerful magician named Habeebee. The boy asked them about the
magician and was told that Habeebee was so powerful he could perform any
miracle. They said he lived a three-day walk into the desert.
With nothing but his flute, the boy immediately began to walk out into the
desert. He walked three days without stopping until he came to an oasis. There
he met Habeebee, the magician, and told him his story. He asked Habeebee
to change him into someone a princess would love, a strong, mighty warrior.
The magician told him that he could do that but warned the boy that once a
magician changed a man’s soul, it could never be changed back again.
Habeebee asked the boy how he would pay for this service. The boy said he
had only his flute, so the magician took his only possession as payment. After
a few days, the boy’s mother assumed her son was dead—she thought he had
fallen into the river and drowned. So she held a funeral for him.
Three years passed, during which time the pharaoh’s enemies attacked the
royal court, and the pharaoh lost most of his land and half of his wealth. He
was about to surrender when suddenly a handsome and strong-looking man
dressed in black came into the pharaoh’s camp. The stranger told the pharaoh
that he was the Black Prince, and if the pharaoh would let him lead the army,
he would win back the pharaoh’s lands. In return he asked only to be given
his heart’s desire. The pharaoh agreed, and within weeks of battle, the Black
Prince defeated the pharaoh’s enemies, and the pharaoh was restored to power
and retained his wealth.
The pharaoh was pleased and asked the Black Prince to visit him in his palace
in one month. The Black Prince agreed, and at the appointed time, he returned
with much fanfare. Women scattered flowers at his feet, and everyone gathered
to catch a glimpse of the powerful warrior, the Black Prince. When he arrived
at the palace, he saw Princess Thudmos seated next to her father. The pharaoh
offered the Black Prince much wealth and power, but the prince said he only
wanted his heart’s desire: He would like to marry Princess Thudmos.
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 57

The princess stood up, saying that if the pharaoh commanded it, she would
obey. She warned the Black Prince, however, that she would never love him
because she had already given her heart to another. She then told about a young
boy who about three years ago sat on her garden wall day after day playing his
flute. His music touched all the emotions of her heart, and she dreamed of the
day when he would come into the garden, take her in his arms, and love her as
much as she loved him. But one day, he no longer came to play his flute. When
her servants went into the city to inquire after the young flute player, they were
told that he had drowned in the river.
The princess told the Black Prince and her father that she could never love
another man as deeply as she had loved the flute player and that she had sworn
never to marry. The Black Prince told the princess that he, too, once loved that
deeply and that he would never ask her to marry him against her will. He turned
and left the palace, never to be seen or heard from again.12

These last two flutetales from ancient Hawai’i and ancient Egypt, so far
from each other in space, are nevertheless very similar because the main
theme is the power of the man’s flute and his flute music to capture the heart
of a beautiful woman. Yet, the stories are contrasted by the happy outcome
of the former and the unhappy outcome of the latter. The Hawaiian folk-
tale seems to be just a simple story about love, while the Egyptian folktale
seems to have several important morals: Love yourself and be happy with
the way you are; don’t be greedy and wish for more than you need in life;
don’t sell your soul to become someone you aren’t meant to be; don’t give
up pursuing your goal; don’t make rash decisions, especially after not getting
enough sleep; don’t ever give away your flute; and, most important, Don’t
stop playing music! This folktale, like many others, teaches proper ethical
behavior for the culture that tells it and listens to it. It warns that throughout
life, we will have to make many decisions, and making the wrong ones may
have dire consequences (the topic of flutes and ethics is discussed in detail
in chapter 11).

The Irresistible Magical Charm of the Flute

from the Point of View of Charmed Women
Numerous collections of Hindu poetic literature from ancient India are
about Krishna (also spelled Kr.s.n.a), who some poets and other Hindu devo-
tees believe is the twentieth avatar or incarnation of the Hindu deity Vishnu,
while others believe he is more than that—he is a great god by himself and
in his own right.13 Collections of Hindu poems and song texts from the
tenth- through the seventeenth-century that pertain to Krishna and the
58 Ch a p t er 5

magical charm of his flute and flute playing are from the tenth section of
the Bhagavata Purana and from the Vaishnava lyrics of Bengal.14 Many of
these poetic narratives pertain to Krishna as a cowherd boy flutist enamored
by the gopıˉs (also gopis, cowherd girls or milking maids), as Dimock and
Leverton explain:
Above the highest heaven is the dwelling place of Krishna. It is a place of infinite
idyllic peace, where the dark and gentle river Yamunaˉ flows beside a flowered
meadow, where cattle graze; on the river’s bank sweet-scented trees blossom
and bend their branches to the earth, where peacocks dance and nightingales
call softly. Here Krishna, ever-young, sits beneath the trees, the sound of his
flute echoing the nightingales’ call. Sometimes he laughs and jokes and wrestles
with his friends, sometimes he teases the cowherd-girls of the village, the Gopıˉs,
as they come to the river for water. And sometimes, in the dusk of days an eon
long, his flute’s call summons the Gopıˉs to his side. They leave their homes
and families and husbands and honor—as it is called by men—and go to him.
Their love for him is deeper than their fear of dishonor. He is the fulfillment of
all desire. The loveliest and most beloved of the Gopıˉs is one called Raˉdhaˉ.15

Many aspects of Krishna’s youth are described in the tenth section of the
Bhagavata Purana, as Freda Matchett explains:
[The] tenth canto of The Bhagavata Purana describes svayam bhagavans Krish-
na’s childhood pastimes as that of a much-loved child raised by cowherds in
Vrindavan, near to the Yamuna River [Mathura district, Uttar Pradesh, India].
The young Krishna enjoys numerous pleasures, such as thieving balls of butter
or playing in the forest with his cowherd friends. He also endures episodes of
carefree bravery protecting the town from demons. More importantly, however,
he steals the hearts of the cowherd girls (gopıˉs). Through his magical ways, he
multiplies himself to give each the attention needed to allow her to be so much
in love with Krishna that she feels at one with him and only desires to serve
him. This love, represented by the grief they feel when Krishna is called away
on a heroic mission and their intense longing for him, is presented as models
of the way of extreme devotion (bhakti) to the Supreme Lord.16

The Bhagavata Purana was written by a male sage, according to Match-

ett: “The Bhagavatam takes the form of a story being told by a great rishi
[sage] known as Suta Goswami, to a host of assembled sages, who ask him
questions in regard to the various avatars, or descents of Vishnu within the
mortal world. Suta Goswami then relates the Bhagavatam as he has heard
it from another sage, called Sukadeva.”17 In spite of the male authorship,
several of the poems offer female views about the use of the flute by Krishna
as a sonic love charm. The following excerpts contain the poetic verses that
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 59

pertain to the flutelore topic I call “The Irresistible Magical Charm of the
Flute from the Point of View of Charmed Women.”
1. When Hari [another name for Kr.s.n.a] puts the flute to his lips
The still are moved and the moving stilled;
Winds die, the river Yamuna stops,
crows fall silent and the deer fall senseless;
bird and beast are stunned by his splendor.
A cow, unmoving,
dangles a glassblade from her teeth;
Even the wise can no longer
hold firm their own minds.
Suˉrdaˉs says: Lucky the man
who knows such joy.
2. Honeybee, Kr.s.n.a’s flute is honey-sweet.
We hear, and our very breath is immersed in love
like a wick immersed in oil,
shining hot and bright,
And the moths see the flame,
and destroy their greedy bodies;
Like a fish who yearns for a sliver of meat,
and seizes a bamboo hook;
a crooked thorn,
It twists in the heart
and then will not come out.
As a hunter sounds a horn
and draws a herd of deer;
Aims an arrow,
looses it,
and threads their hearts upon the shaft.
As a .thag [Indian bandit, a thug] lures a pilgrim
with lad.d.uˉs [a flour ball dipped in syrup] sweet with wine,
Makes him drunk and trusting,
takes his money and his life;
Just so, Honeybee,
Hari [Kr.s.n.a] takes our love by deceit.
Suˉr’s Lord tore up the sweet sugarcane
and planted a garden of longing.
60 Ch a p t er 5

3. The flute has become everything to him!

Now you just try to drive her [the flute] away,
she [the flute] who’s taken Nanda’s [head of a tribe of
cowherds] son in her power!
Sometimes on his lip,
sometimes on his hand he lays her,
sometimes he clasps her to his heart and sings;
Sometimes he plays himself into a trance
and she lies there dangling from his lips.
She for whom he’s so lost his senses,
how will you get her away from him?
Suˉr’s Śyaˉm’s forgotten us all;
now how could he forget her?
4. So Hari clings to his flute!
Why not?
So she casts a sudden spell
when he draws her to his lips!
Why not?
So he cups her in his hand!
So she makes him bow his neck!
Why not?
So she locks his body in tribhaṅga [a standing posture in
which the figure is oppositely curved at waist and neck to
form a gentle “S” shape],
and she robs him of his mind!
Why not?
So he’ll ever be her slave! Why not?
He is a cowherd,
she is a flute;
He never lets her go, Suˉr’s Śyaˉm,
as he pipes his grazing herds from grove to grove.
6. Gopaˉl does love that flute,
Sisters! Though she makes our Nanda’s son
dance so many dances;
Makes him stand upon one foot,
and orders him about,
Bends his tender body to her will,
crooks his waist at her command—
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 61

He’s a slave now, our wise man; a cripple!

She bows the neck of Him who bore the Mountain!
Lying couched upon his lip,
she compels his fingers to caress;
Furrowed brow, wide-eyed and nostrils flared,
she turns his wrath on us
And thinking him happy
even for a second, Suˉr,
she shakes him head to toe.
7. Śyaˉm, I might as well tell you:
I can’t bear this talk
that travels from house to house.
My father takes up his sword, enraged;
my brother runs out, bent on murder;
and my mother—
She says I’m a disgrace to my sex,
she prays that no-one on this earth
give birth to another girl.
I beg of you one thing only:
don’t come again to these streets;
But if you come, O don’t let the honeyed notes of that flute
reach my ears.
By thought and word and deed, I swear to you,
my heart and mind both cling to you;
O Lord of Suˉrdaˉ s, you are the Dweller in my heart;
why can’t you let it be content?

Bryant explains that the theme of these poems—the loves of Krishna and
the gopıˉs—was highly favored by medieval Hindustani Indian poets. As love
poems, they stress the irresistible effect the music of Krishna’s flute has on
the milkmaids. Bryant’s interpretive insight is without parallel:18
His flute is irresistible; it charms everything in the forest of Brindaban (verse
1); above all, it charms the Gopıˉs (verse 2).
For a time they resist its pull; they even come to resent it, and for two good
reasons. First, the flute is a threat. The Gopıˉs are married women, they have
parents, in-laws, reputations; they can see where the flute must lead them. But
at the same time they are jealous: the flute spends more time at Kr.s.n.a’s lips
than they do; indeed, sometimes it seems that Kr.s.n.a has become a slave to his
own music (verses 3, 4, 6).
62 Ch a p t er 5

On a night of the full moon in autumn, the flute’s song becomes too much
to bear. The women leave their husbands’ beds, and gather in a grove on the
Yamuna bank; there they dance, with Kr.s.n.a, in the raˉsa-man.d.ala.

Pertinent to the topic of this section are opinions of the milkmaids (“cow-
girls”), which Archer summarized and paraphrased in his book The Loves
of Krishna in Indian Painting and Poetry:
One day Krishna plays on his flute in the forest. Playing the flute is the cow-
herds’ special art and Krishna has, therefore, learnt it in his childhood. But, as
in everything else, his skill is quite exceptional and Krishna’s playing has thus
a beauty all its own. From where they are working the cowgirls hear it and at
once are plunged in agitation. They gather on the road and say to each other,
“Krishna is dancing and singing in the forest and will not be home till evening.
Only then shall we see him and be happy.”
One cowgirl says, “That happy flute to be played on by Krishna! Little
wonder that having drunk the nectar of his lips the flute should trill like the
clouds. Alas! Krishna’s flute is dearer to him than we are for he keeps it with
him night and day. The flute is our rival. Never is Krishna parted from it.” A
second cowgirl speaks. “It is because the flute continually thought of Krishna
that it gained this bliss.” And a third says, “Oh! why has Krishna not made us
into flutes that we might stay with him day and night?” The situation in fact
has changed overnight for far from merely appealing to the cowgirls’ maternal
instincts, Krishna is now the darling object of their most intense passion.19

In yet another translation of a similar (or the same) passage from the
Bhagavata Purana, the gopıˉs cannot resist Krishna’s flute, as the prose in
the translation reveals:
Beholding the friend of the lilies (moon) rise in his full splendour on the sky, and
shine like the countenance of (Lakshmi), red like fresh saffron, and also seeing
the groves flooded and variegated with the soft lustre of the moon, Krishna
melodiously sang with his flute in a manner so as to captivate the hearts of
women with beautiful eyes.
Having heard that music capable of exciting desire, the damsels of Braja
had their heart[s] enslaved by Krishna. Without apprising one another of their
respective intentions, they (the Gopees) hastened to the place where their darling
was. Their ear-rings dangled on account of their haste. Some damsels who had
been milking their cows, started anxiously leaving the milking half-done. Some
went away leaving the milk they had been boiling over fire, without waiting
for its boiling. Others again flew to him (Krishna), without even taking down,
from the hearth, the preparation of wheat they had been baking. Some had been
distributing eatables among [their] family members, some had been suckling
their babies, some had been taking their meals, some had been toileting with
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 63

cosmetics, some had been cleansing their persons and some had been painting
their eyes with collyrium. All those Gopees, leaving their respective business
and duties unfinished flew to Krishna their garments and ornaments having
fallen off their persons in consequence of their great hurry.20

These passages suggest that the flute’s power over women is actually from
the flute itself, as well as its irresistible sound (see also chapter 12). In fact,
Krishna himself is captivated and overpowered by his flute, referred to in
the Bhagavata Purana as “she” or “her,” especially in verses 3, 4, and 6.
In addition to being completely transfixed by Krishna’s flute music, the
affected women, as well as the men and gods, also recognize it as Krishna’s
flute music, rather than music performed by someone else. Such individual
recognition of a flute’s sound is discussed next.

Flute Sound as Individual Recognition

of and by the Opposite Sex
In some Warao narratives, the harihari flute is a favored instrument of
supernatural male beings as well as of certain mortal men who play melo-
dies that enable their female loved ones to identify them from afar. In an
excerpt from a Warao story, “The Woman Killed by Her Husband’s Spirit,”
a woman recognizes a flute melody to be the same as what her husband
played: “When night came on, she heard the harri-harri (flute) playing in
the river, and the sound gradually coming nearer and nearer. Recognizing
it as her husband’s, she turned to her child and said, ‘That tune is like what
your father used to play. Perhaps he alone was saved when all the others
were killed.’”21 In another folk tale, “The Warao Legend [Haburi],” a man
was recognized by his flute music, and an evil supernatural impostor was
exposed, as the following excerpt explains:
When he left, Mayakoto carried with him a kind of flute, harihari-esemoy, or
“flute of the toucan,” as it was called by the Indians. And when he returned
from fishing, he blew it from a long distance to tell his wives that he was coming
back bringing morocoto [a type of fish]. Upon hearing the sound of the flute,
the women got up and lit the fire in the kitchen. Afterwards each of them set up
her diri or wooden grill in order to broil the fish as soon as Mayakoto arrived.
But one day when Mayakoto had left very early in the morning, the evil spirit
Hahuba appeared to him while he was fishing. Hahuba snatched the morocotos
from him and swallowed Mayakoto as well. Afterwards he got in the canoe of
Mayakoto and went to the latter’s house. Hahuba, the evil spirit, did not know
how to play the harihari or flute of the toucan, and so upon arriving at the
house, in place of playing the flute as Mayakoto was accustomed to doing, he
64 Ch a p t er 5

called to the women, “Hey, my wives! Where is the road, one can’t see anything
here.” The women looked at each other strangely and said, “Hmmm. Who will
this be that doesn’t know the road. Mayakoto knows it very well, and besides
he played the flute of the toucan.”22

These suggestions of flute music as a method of recognizing a particular

male individual by a female are similar to one of the functions of the kena
flute (see figure 10) among the Incas, as Garcilaso de la Vega wrote in the late
sixteenth or early seventeenth century. “The story is told of a Spaniard who,
one evening, upon meeting an Indian girl of his acquaintance on a Cuzco
street, urged her to come home with him. ‘Señor,’ she replied, ‘kindly let me
go my way. The flute you hear is calling me with such tenderness and passion
that I can’t resist it. Leave me, for your own life’s sake; my love is calling me
and I must answer him, that he may be my husband and I his wife.’”23
Among Native (North) American people of the plains region, an Indian
woman could recognize who the player of the courting flute was when she
heard the mellow sounds in the evening. Henry Crow Dog, a Brule Sioux,
explains, “At night, lying on her buffalo robe in her parents’ tipi, the girl
would hear that moaning, crying sound of the siyotanka [courting flute].
By the way it was played, she would know that it was her lover who was
out there someplace.”24
While the recognition of a particular male flute player is not the case
with a Malay folktale, “Raja Donan,” about the magical properties of a
flute used for attracting a female known as Princess Ganda Iran by a male
flutist named Raja Donan, the power of the flute for communicating with
the opposite gender is evident, as the following excerpt demonstrates.Che
Muda, a sister of Raja Petukal, was found in the cabin, and went with Raja
Donan aboard his boat. Guided by the princesses, he sought the shores
of the country in which resided the beautiful Princess Ganda Iran. He
played his magic flute, and, though he was many miles away, his prayer
was heard that the Princess Ganda Iran should be able to hear his music.
She was enraptured, and dispatched a kite to bear to the youth a cap made
of beautiful flowers. Not only was the flute sound capable of reaching the
princess over a great distance, once the handsome flutist met his future
lover (even though he was now disguised as a wild man), she literally fell
head over heels when she heard the flute sounding close by, as the story in
continuing makes clear:
Disguised as a Semang, or wild hill-man, with all the skin diseases and sores
which disfigure those people, he gained admittance to the Princess Ganda Iran.
The raja, her father, forced him to play his magic flute, which when the princess
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 65

heard she fell down, and was thought to be dead. Preparations were made for
her Funeral, and the Semang was promised her hand in marriage, and the sov-
ereignty of the country if he restored her to life. He [again] played his magic
flute, and when he saw her coming back to life disappeared from the palace.
The Semang could not be found, but in their search the officers of the raja
met a pretty child by the road-side. They brought him to the palace, where the
princess took a great fancy to him. The child suddenly changed one day into
Raja Donan, a handsome young man, and the princess, having heard who he
was, was exceedingly happy.25

The power of this Malay flute playing not only caused a woman to become
comatose to the point of resembling death but it also brought her back to
her natural living state. Although I write “flute playing,” it is not revealed
whether it was the music or simply the sound of the magic flute that gave
it such power (see also chapter 10, “Flutes and Death”).

Flutes for Remembering the Opposite Sex

Just as flutes and flute sounds have the power to attract the opposite sex, so,
too, can they serve to remember loved ones who have died. Henry Stobart
describes the music and musical practices in Bolivia that are often associated
with such enchanting powers: “A Bolivian version of the almost universal
story of the singing bones tells of a priest from Potosí who dug up his lover’s
body and fashioned a flute from her tibia [shinbone]. A more rural version
of the same story (told as far north as Ecuador) tells of a young man who
fashioned a flute from the bone of his lover (a partridge), which his parents
had killed and eaten.”26
Another legend about a flute made from the bone of someone of the op-
posite sex is “Under the Green Old Oak-Tree” (further discussed in chapter
11). The story comes from Antigua, British West Indies, and is about a boy
who kills his sister and then dies when he hears a song being played on a
flute made from one of her bones. While the legend is not about a bone
flute being used intentionally to conjure up memories of someone of the
opposite sex who has died, the unexpected sound of his sister’s shinbone
flute creates a memory of guilt to the extent that the brother either dies of
guilt or from the deadly power of musical sympathetic magic.

Flutes That Attract Wild Female Nymphs

Sometimes the magical power of a flute to attract the opposite sex hap-
pens unexpectedly and with deadly consequences. In a Bulgarian myth
66 Ch a p t er 5

known as “The Shepherd and the Samodivi” from the town of Berkovica
in northwestern Bulgaria, an innocent shepherd plays his kaval flute (Olsen
category 1) for his flock of sheep; however, his beautiful music also attracts
the Samodivi (also spelled Samovili), who are wild female nymphs of the
waters, woodlands, and the mountains, renowned for their exquisite singing
and dancing. Plamena Kourtova, my student in 2008 collected the following
version of the story and told it to me:
There lived in northwestern Bulgaria a brave shepherd. He was fearless, and
everyone knew him to be a very courageous young man. One day, he took his
sheep out as usual. He chose the best pasture, on the slope of one of the hills
that surround the tiny town of Berkovica. He sat down under a tree, took out
his kaval (shepherd’s flute), and started to play a beautiful song.
Suddenly, three women appeared. They were all dressed in white, and their
golden hair ran down their backs as if it were a stream of golden water. The three
formed a circle and started to dance. The young shepherd was very surprised.
He had heard legends about the Samodivi and their strange ways, but he had
never seen them. He was struck by their beauty and continued playing. When
he had finished his song, the three Samodivi ran away.
That night, when the shepherd went to the local pub and told his friends
what had happened to him, everyone laughed at his stupidity. They thought he
had drunk too much. The brave shepherd decided to prove them wrong and
ran out of the pub.
When he reached the hillside, it was already midnight. The young man took
out his flute and began a beautiful, sad song. The three Samodivi came out
immediately and formed their circle. They danced all night.
But what the brave young shepherd did not know was that when someone
plays for the Samodivi at midnight, he is to go with them forever to their forest
home. The night was over, and when the first rays of light touched the green
grass of the hill, the shepherd and the three forest Samodivi had disappeared.
The only thing that remains today is the name of the hill, Samodivski Hulm
(“Samodivi Hill”). From that time on, the inhabitants of the tiny town of
Berkovica call it “Samodivi Hill” and avoid going there past midnight. The
forest has gotten so thick and the vegetation is so rich that no shepherd dares
to leave his herd nearby.27

So dangerous are the Samodivi that no flutist should ever play his flute
alone in the Bulgarian forest after midnight. Kourtova commented, “In
some tales [the Samodivi] kill or take the heads of humans who cross them,
reminiscent of the Maenads, the ecstatic female followers of Dionysus who
tore Orpheus apart in a drunken frenzy.” This tale supports the belief found
in many cultures that whistle sounds attract spirits.
 Flu t es, Se x ua li t y, a n d Lov e M agic 67

The Sexual Power of Flutes

Flutes are symbols of male sexuality and love attraction in some cultures
because of their phallic shape.28 This is especially true within the traditional
belief systems found in the South American Andes, where flutes have been
played only by men since ancient times and where the translations or mean-
ings of particular terms used for flutes in some cultures support the beliefs.
In the Ecuadorian Andes, for example, a vertical, tubular, duct flute known
in Quechua as pingullo is used during planting-related festivals; the word
pingullo combines the Quechua terms pinga and ullu, words that are both
glossed as “penis,” according to folklorist Carvalho-Neto.29 Among the
Amazonian Wakuénai of Venezuela, a flute known as molítu is “directly
associated with sexual power, since it represents the penis of Kuwái [cul-
ture hero]. . . . The molítu flute is the quintessential symbol of adult male
sexuality and procreativity.”30 This parallel with the flutes as penises among
the Wogeo in New Guinea is striking.31 Other aerophones, such as bamboo
trumpets and clarinets, are also associated with fertility in South America
because they are also long and tubular.
A particular socioreligious performance technique in ancient and co-
lonial Peru was to play the kena notched flute (Olsen category 2) within
a clay pot, which was an overt symbol of the sexual act.32 Forbidden by
the Roman Catholic Church, the tradition nevertheless persisted into the
colonial period. Anthropologist Jiménez Borja describes such a jar found in
Huamanga, department of Ayacucho, Peru, as having a small opening at the
top for inserting the flute, two larger openings in the sides for the player’s
hands, and two eyelets on the sides so it could be suspended around the
kena player’s neck with a cord. He explains that to play the kena into such
a specially designed clay vessel creates a magical voice that “defeats death
and promotes life,” signifying fertility (see chapter 7).33
Among the Mande of West Africa, the following flutetale is about a man
who changes himself into a flute so he can marry a young maiden:
A maiden refused to marry, refused to marry anyone. This came to the ears of a
man who liked her. Thereupon he changed himself into a flute and laid himself,
in the shape of a flute, before the maiden’s door. The maiden found the flute,
picked it up, ran to her mother and showed it to her. Her mother said: “What
a lovely flute you have. No one in the village has so fine a flute.” The maiden
took the flute into the house and leaned it against the wall.
In the evening the maiden bathed. Thereupon the flute spoke and said: “I
want to bathe, too.” The maiden jumped up, ran out of the house to her mother
68 Ch a p t er 5

and said: “Mother, the flute just said, ‘I want to bathe, too.’ Mother, the flute is
surely a man.” Her mother said: “Don’t bother about it. It is the prettiest flute
in the village.” The maiden went back in the house.
The maiden lay down on her bed. The flute said: “I want to lie down on the
bed, too.” The maiden jumped up, ran out of the house to her mother and said:
“Mother the flute just said, ‘I want to lie down on the bed, too.’ Mother, the
flute is surely a man.” The mother said: “Forget about it. You have the finest
flute in the village. Why shouldn’t you lay it on your bed?” The maiden went
back in her house.
The maiden took the flute from the wall and laid it beside her on the bed. The
flute said: “Oh, but I’d like to lie between your breasts.” The maiden jumped up,
ran out of the house to her mother and said: “Mother, the flute just said, ‘Oh,
but I’d like to lie between your breasts.’ Mother, the flute is surely a man.” The
mother said: “Oh, don’t bother your head about it. You have the prettiest flute
in the village. Why shouldn’t you lay it between your breasts?” The maiden
went back in her house.
The maiden laid herself on her bed and put the flute between her breasts.
Suddenly the flute turned into a large, strong man with a mighty Fosso which he
inserted in the maiden’s Bie. The next morning the maiden went to her mother
and said: “Now I’m married after all, for the flute was naturally a man. But
I’m glad.” Her mother said: “Didn’t I tell you?”34

While the flute in this story is a man rather than a phallus, they seem to be
one and the same because the ultimate goal of the tale is the sexual act and
fertilization between male and female.
In the next chapter, “Flutes and the Animal Kingdom,” sexual metaphors
involving flutes are also common. However, in contrast to male symbolism
for flutes, it will be seen that in at least one culture, and with one particular
animal, the tubular flute is related to female sexuality.
Story 6

Aniz the Shepherd

Uyghur culture, China

Once upon a time a landlord hired a shepherd boy whose name was Aniz.
He was very well liked. What people liked most of all was to listen to him
playing the flute. His flute looked very simple, no more than a length of
bamboo, but in his hands it became a wonderful instrument. Whenever
they were free, people would sit around Aniz and entertain themselves by
listening to him play. The landlord was heartily sick of both the boy and
his flute. He was constantly finding fault with him and scolding him, “You
little wretch! Do I pay you to sit there playing the flute?” In point of fact,
Aniz’s flute playing did not interfere with his work in the slightest.
One day the landlord found some slight pretext to give Aniz a terrible
beating. That was not enough; he was not content until he had driven him
out and trampled his flute into little pieces. “Good! I should like to see you
play the flute now!”
Poor Aniz left the landlord’s house and, with tears trickling down his
face, wandered through the streets. He chanced to meet an old man. “Hello!
What’s the trouble, young fellow? Who are your parents? Why are you out
here all on your own, crying?” the old man asked, stroking Aniz’s head.
“Grandpa! I am a shepherd. My name is Aniz. The landlord beat me, drove
me out, and trampled my lovely flute to pieces . . .” Aniz began crying again.
“Don’t cry, Aniz,” said the old man kindly. “Come along and stay with me! I
shall show you a way to avenge yourself.” He took Aniz to his home. There
he used a length of bamboo to make him a new flute that was much better
than his old one. He taught him how to play it, and after his lessons with
the old man, Aniz could play more beautifully than ever. This time it was

From Favourite Folktales of China, translated by John Minford, introduction by

Zhong Jingwen (Beijing: New World Press, 1983).
70 Story 6

not just people who enjoyed his playing; even the various animals in the
forest came and sat round him, listening to him quietly and never wanting
to leave. As time passed, Aniz and the animals became close friends.
One day the landlord summoned his sons and said, “Last night I dreamt
of a beautiful rabbit, white as snow, with a black spot on the top of its head.
I liked the look of it very much. You must try your best to catch it for me
in the forest.” “Father, we have never even heard of such a rabbit!” his sons
replied. “Where can we go to catch it for you?” “You hopeless creatures!
Didn’t you hear what I said just now?” cried the landlord in a temper. “Go
and look for it. Whoever finds it will inherit all I have when I die.”
The eldest son thought to himself, “I am the eldest. I should inherit father’s
property anyway, whether I catch the rabbit or not. But supposing they . . .”
He stepped forward and said, “Brothers, let me go! I fear no danger, if only
I can make father happy!”
He set off on his way looking around him carefully, and after a while an
old man came towards him and asked, “Young man, where are you going?”
The eldest son told him why he had come. “Go to the forest then,” said the
old man, “and look for the rabbit! Aniz is tending my cattle there. Tell him
what you want and he’ll help you.”
The eldest son went into the forest, found Aniz and asked him for his help.
“Of course!” Aniz smiled, “I can help you to find the strange rabbit. Come
and get it this evening. But you must bring with you a thousand strings of
cash to pay for it.” The eldest son reckoned gleefully, “Compared with the
property I am going to inherit, a thousand strings of cash are nothing!”
In the evening, he returned to the forest with the money and found Aniz
sitting on a tree stump, playing his flute. All the little animals were squat-
ting round him entranced, pricking up their ears to listen to the music. The
eldest son saw the white rabbit among them at once. It really did have a tiny
black spot on the top of its head. Aniz saw the rabbit, too. He put down his
flute, stretched out his hand, took hold of it by its long ears, and handed it
to the eldest son. “Here you are. Hold it tightly! If it escapes, it’s none of
my business.”
The eldest son paid the money, thanked Aniz profusely, and set off home
with the little white rabbit. He was about to leave the forest when he heard
Aniz playing the flute again. As soon as the rabbit heard the music, it burst
from his hand and ran for all it was worth. The eldest son searched for it
for a long time but could not find any trace of it. In the end, he gave up and
went to see Aniz again. “The white rabbit has run away. What can I do?”
he asked. Aniz answered, “There is nothing I can do about it. Didn’t I warn
 A n iz t h e Sh eph er d 71

you a moment ago to hold it tightly? It’s no use blaming me.” The eldest
son had no alternative but to go home empty-handed and tell his story to
the landlord.
The second son said, “Father, don’t worry. I’ll go and catch it tomorrow.”
Next day, the second son went to try his luck and met the same fate as his
elder brother—time wasted and another thousand strings of cash down the
drain. On the third day, the youngest son went, but he fared no better.
It made the landlord very angry to watch his three sons lose three thousand
strings of cash like this, without so much as a piece of fluff to show for it.
“You fools!” he cried. “You worthless pack of fools! Tomorrow I shall go
and catch it myself!”
So the following day, the landlord went into the forest. When Aniz spot-
ted him, his eyes blazed with hatred. Before the landlord could open his
mouth, Aniz took out his flute and began playing. All the beasts of the
forest––rabbits, bears, snakes, wolves, foxes, and many different sorts of
birds––came and encircled the landlord. Terror drove the last drop of color
from his cheeks. He fell to his knees in despair and entreated Aniz, “My
lord, save me! Save me!” “Landlord! Do you remember Aniz? At one sound
from my flute, these animals will eat you alive!” “Alas . . . Ah! My lord!
Don’t treat me as once I treated you!” He lay prostrate at Aniz’s feet and
sobbed, “I promise to give you anything you want. Don’t let them. . . . I’m
so scared. . . .” “Very well. I will spare your wretched life this once. But you
must never bully poor folk again! If you don’t turn over a new leaf, I won’t
be so easy on you next time. And when you get home, you must give half
of all your worldly goods to the poor villagers. Is that clear?” “Yes! Yes!”
The landlord rose to his feet and fled in abject terror. He followed Aniz’s
instructions and distributed half of his estate to the poor. That made Aniz
more popular than ever.
Ch a p t er 6

Flutes and the Animal Kingdom

Animals are recurring motifs in many flute-related stories because flutes are
often made from animal bones, flutists are often hunters of animals, animals
are often protectors and helpers of flute-playing humans, they are often mes-
sengers of the gods, and so on. In this chapter, in addition to stories about
relationships between human flutists and animals, many of the flutetales
are also about flute-playing animals, which are often anthropomorphized:
They talk, live in villages, have wives and children, and sometimes play mu-
sical instruments. Some of these types of folktales and myths are examples
to which the concept or theory of “indigenous perspectivism” is applied
towards the end of the chapter.1

Flutes for Charming Animals by Humans

Flutes have the magical power to charm the animals as well as humans and
ogres. In story 6, “Aniz the Shepherd,” from the Uyghur ethnic-minority
culture in China, the shepherd’s bamboo flute charms the animals and ul-
timately controls them to a point where they are ready to attack an evil
landlord. In the end, the lowly shepherd becomes a wealthy and beloved
member of the society because he pacified the evil landlord and made him
give his wealth to the poor.
Another example of a flute used to charm the animals is in the libretto
to Mozart’s opera Die Zauberflöte (The magic flute), written in 1791 by
Emanuel Schikaneder (1751–1812), who based it on J. A. Liebeskind’s Ger-
man fairy tale, Lulu oder die Zauberflöte (Lulu or the magic flute). In the
original German fairy tale, Lulu, a young prince, must rescue a young maiden
from an evil magician; the prince is aided by a good fairy who gives him
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 73

a magic flute: “Take this flute, it has the power to make each listener love
you and it can incite or sooth[e] all passions.”2 In Schikaneder’s version,
Tamino, a prince and the hero in Mozart’s Magic Flute, plays a golden flute
for protection from the wild animals who come out of their lairs and lie
down at his feet, as the hero sings in act 1, scene 15: “Because, sweet flute,
/ through your playing / even wild animals feel joy.”3 The lyrics suggest that
it is the music played on the flute, rather than the flute itself or the musician,
which has the power to charm the wild animals.
Sometimes flute music does not have the power to charm the animals,
however, although the human flutist thinks it does. In the following Greek
fable by Aesop (620–560 b.c.) known as “The Fisherman and His Flute,”
a fisherman tries to charm fish into his net without success:
One day a fisherman who loved to play his flute went to the seashore to net
some fish. Seeing many fish but being more interested in playing his flute than
casting his net, he placed his net into the water and played several lively tunes,
hoping the fish would be so charmed by his music they would dance right into
his net. When no fish jumped into his net, he stopped playing, put his instru-
ment away, and cast his net into the water, catching an abundance of fish that
frantically flopped and jumped as they tried to free themselves. The fisherman
said to them, “You ungrateful non–music-loving fish! You wouldn’t dance when
I played my flute for you, but now you won’t stop dancing.”4

A common moral to this fable is, It takes wisdom to do the right thing at
the right time. Perhaps a flute moral could be, Never play a flute to make
fish dance, because fish have no feet. Although the fisherman could not
charm the fish to jump (or dance) into his net with his flute playing, the
dancing metaphor for the flopping of the fish is cute and appropriate for
a child’s fable.
Numerous other folktales included in this book are also about attempts
to charm animals with flute music, and the attempts are usually successful.
Because some of these folktales also pertain to other topics, they are not
included in this chapter. For example, Although “The Rat Catcher from
Korneuburg” (story 10) is about a human flutist who can charm rats, I use
that story to explain how flutes can be used to cast spells leading to death.
Also, “The Pifuano Flute of the Chullachaqui Rainforest Spirits” (story 11)
is about charming game animals so they can be hunted and killed; how-
ever, I use it to explain flutes and unethical/ethical behavior in chapter 11.
Additionally, many other stories are peripherally related to animals, and
I have excerpted them throughout other chapters. The stories included in
this chapter are centrally related to animals.
74 Ch a p t er 6

Animals as Flutists
In most parts of the world, animals are considered to have magical powers.
Animal symbolism in art, music, and myth is often explained by the animal’s
behaviors in real life.5 For example, some birds, such as condors and eagles,
are messengers of the gods because they are large, fearless, capable of seem-
ingly endless flight, and traverse the two worlds of earth and sky, as do most
birds; certain animals, such as monkeys, are tricksters in folktales as they are
in their natural habitats; dogs are protective of and faithful to their human
masters; jaguars are shamanistic because they are powerful and evasive; and
there are many other examples, most of them perhaps obvious. Religious
men and, to a lesser degree, women in many parts of the world imitate
or are believed to be transformed into animals in order to obtain magical
powers, and the concept of animal/human metaphors is a basic tenant of
many belief systems, such as animism, shamanism, totemism, and others.
Allusion to animals is an important use of symbol with regard to most
musical instruments outside of the Western classical tradition, such as the
distal ends of Native American flutes resembling the heads and beaks of
birds or their removable mouthpiece apparatuses—the baffles or ornaments,
as they are sometimes called—carved into the shapes of birds, bears, or
other animals.6 When found in music iconography, the animal for which an
instrument has symbolic significance is usually a living animal rather than
a mythical one.
Animal symbolism is also found with the materials from which flutes are
often constructed, usually bones. For example, the Quechua antara single-
unit panpipes from Peru, important instruments of the Inca, were often
made from human bones, usually the tibia or shinbone; the oldest rondador
panpipes from Ecuador were often made from condor feather quills. Human
body parts imbued musical instruments with power, and antara panpipes
made from human bones, “just like the drums from human skin, were not
meant to be ordinary musical instruments. Instead, considering the joining
of the parts [such as] bones, skin, etc. for their essences, their voices should
have been something alive.”7 Indeed, life—its creation, continuation, and
opposite (i.e., death and the afterlife)—is assured by human symbols, such
as the joining of male and female (i.e., fertility). Likewise, condor bones also
imbued flutes made from them with power. Life is also assured by animal
symbolism, such as the mating of the llamas, sheep, and cattle (i.e., fertility),
and certain flutes are used for such fertility festivals in Peru.
There is, however, another approach to the topic of animals as flutists.
While the above paragraphs are human centric because they discuss animal
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 75

symbolism as used by humans, the following approach can be called animal

centric because it is from the point of view of the animals. Why shouldn’t
animals play flutes? The term “animal,” after all, comes from the Latin ani-
malis meaning “having breath,”8 and the breath instrument par excellence
is the flute. Also, when animals play flutes, it is often because the flutes have
magical powers to assist them, just like human flutists have. This approach
relies on the concept of indigenous perspectivism, which is really the only way
humans can understand how animals (and other nonhumans) make music.
What are the animal types around the world that are flutists, as depicted
in folktales and other stories? This chapter discusses some of them and
analyzes why certain animals seem to take precedence. Many stories feature
more than one animal or animal types, and certain types of animals are
dominant. Some animals are tricksters, and yet others are the tricked.

Birds as Flutists / Flutists as Birds

While birds would logically seem to be the largest category of flutists because
birds generally have whistle voices for which the flute is an appropriate
metaphor, birds did not always have whistle voices. Moreover, sometimes,
they stole them from other types of animals. In the following story from the
North American Cherokee culture, “How the Partridge Got His Whistle,”
the partridge obtains his pleasing voice from a naïve terrapin or land turtle:
In the old days, the Terrapin had a fine whistle, but the Partridge had none.
The Terrapin was constantly going about whistling and howling his whistle to
the other animals until the Partridge became jealous. One day when they met,
the Partridge asked if he could try it. The Terrapin was afraid to risk it at first,
suspecting some trick, but the Partridge said, “I’ll give it back right away, and
if you are afraid, you can stay with me while I practice.” So the Terrapin let
him have the whistle, and the Partridge walked around blowing on it in fine
fashion. “How does it sound with me?” asked the Partridge. “Oh, you do very
well,” said the Terrapin, walking alongside. “Now, how do you like it?” said the
Partridge, running ahead and whistling a little faster. “That’s fine,” answered
the Terrapin, hurrying to keep up, “but don’t run so fast.” “And now how do
you like this?” called the Partridge, and with that he spread his wings, gave one
long whistle, and flew to the top of a tree leaving the poor Terrapin to look after
him from the ground. The Terrapin never recovered his whistle, and from that
(and the loss of his scalp, which the Turkey stole from him), he is ashamed to be
seen. Ever since, he shuts himself up in his box when anyone comes near him.9

Perhaps the moral to this story could be, Don’t be naïve. It could also be,
Don’t ever share your beautiful flute or whistle with a stranger. More likely,
however, the story is just an explanation about why the terrapin does not
76 Ch a p t er 6

whistle but the partridge does, and why the terrapin often hides within
its carapace: It is because the terrapin is ashamed because it was scalped.
The story seems to be more about the terrapin than the partridge, which
is not surprising since the partridge is not a native American bird but was
brought from Europe in 1889, the date when the gray partridge was first
introduced into Virginia.10
A bird that is native to the Americas, as well as to every region on Earth
except Antarctica and Oceania, is the vulture. In Venezuela, a Warao narra-
tive speaks of an association of vultures to the Warao bamboo flute called
harihari, as in the following excerpt of “The Man with a Vulture Wife”:
There were once three brothers. The middle one was a very good hunter, and
this story is all about him and his bird wife. While out in the bush one day he
came across a large house wherein people were “sporting.” These people were
very fair [light-skinned], much like white persons, a thing not to be wondered
at, because they were really vultures . . . who had taken off their feathers just
for the occasion, to hang about the place and decorate it. They were dancing
and singing the makuari tune on all sorts of musical instruments, from the
harri-harri flute to the rattle.11

The harihari (or harri-harri) flute is again mentioned later in the narrative;
however, it is then played by one of the brothers, alone in his hammock, as
he thinks of the beautiful vulture girls. This folktale seems not to associate
the Warao harihari flute with anything other than providing music for dance
and personal entertainment, although the sexual implications are clear be-
cause the word “sporting” glosses as “making love.” Why the vulture is the
chosen bird for this Warao folktale is perhaps because of its size, which is
almost at human proportions. In this narrative, vultures are flutists, among
other things. The last part of this chapter discusses the relevance of vultures
and other animals as flutists.
The Andean condor is another type of vulture, Vultur gryphus. With a
wingspan of up to eleven feet, it is considered a totemic bird among Andean
cultures. Among the Quechua people of Peru, a condor cult called ayara-
chi incorporates dancing panpipe musicians-dancers who wear garments
that are made as imitations of condors.12 Thus, in the Andes, according
to ethnography, panpipe flutists are sometimes vultures. The panpipers of
the Quechua ayarachi panpipe ensemble play a type of supernatural music
(discussed below) that has been passed on for generations, if not centuries,
with very little change.
The Andean condor, however, symbolizes death in the Andes because it
preys on animals and will fly off with live animals as well as dead ones.
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 77

Because of its eating habits, the condor has “a natural connection with the
world of the dead, and [condors] sometimes play dead when injured or
cornered. Vulture remains were placed in elite Pre‑Columbian burials and
caches.”13 It is perhaps because of the condor’s auspicious character that
some ancient panpipes were made from condor feather quills in the An-
des.14 The Peruvian condor cult dance is called ayarachi because the word
stems from ayar, the Quechua word for death. It can roughly be glossed
as “letting the deceased rest and leading him to the Hanac Pacha (the land
of the death),”15 which relates to the condor as a messenger to the gods;
in this case, it is a messenger of death, bridging life and death. Ayarachi,
therefore, also refers to funeral music. Américo Roberto Valencia Chacón
elaborates on the role of the ayarachi panpipe orchestras during death ritu-
als: “Ayarachi can also mean ‘soul that weeps,’ a definition that probably
comes from ayarachic, meaning ‘to accompany the dead,’ a name, according
to the [Spanish] chronicler Bernabé Cobo (1653), [that] was given to the
panpipes during the Inca period. Ayarachi, therefore, also refers to the pain
and music associated with death.”16
Whereas birds usually have voices or whistle sounds that flutes often
imitate or symbolize with their sounds and hence derive particular powers,
vultures do not have twittering or pleasing voices. Instead, their powers
are symbolized by their enormous size and ability to soar at the heights of
the heavens. There is certainly an auspicious parallel of this latter charac-
teristic with the indigenous Andean practices of high mountain burials and
ceremonies.

Reptiles as Flutists
In the following Yoruba folktale from Nigeria, “How the Parrot’s Beak
Became Bent,” the lead character is a parrot, although it is the secondary
character, a frog, that plays the flute:
One day the parrot and the cowries began to argue, for the latter had said that
they would build such a house that there would be none like it in the world,
while the parrot in his turn said, “Not only can you not do this, but I will make
a house larger and grander than yours.” They then agreed both to start build-
ing, the cowries making their house of cowries throughout, while the parrot
plucked out all the feathers from the other parrots’ tails and built his house of
these from top to bottom. When both houses were completed it was clear to
the cowries that the parrot’s house was the better, and the cowries invited all
the birds to come to them and related the preceding circumstances, finishing by
saying, “We must steal the parrot’s house. Will you assist us in carrying it away?”
Now as the parrot had no friends amongst the birds (for the frog was his only
78 Ch a p t er 6

friend and at the same time his bugler), he did not hear of this conspiracy, but
went on working in order to pay back the other parrots for the loss of their tail
feathers, for he had plucked them only on certain conditions. Now the cowries
on the other hand were free men.
One day the parrot went to work at a place far away, as far as from Ijebu
Erimu to Ilorin (i.e., many days’ journey), leaving the frog at home. Then came
the cowries with all the birds to carry away the house. The frog was alone and,
not knowing what to do, took his flute and began to blow on it, on hearing
which the parrot came back.
As the parrot neared the house he cried out to the frog, “Don’t fear, I am
coming, anyone I meet I will kill and tear to pieces,” and the first he saw he did
unto as he had said he would. On the second day the cowries said, “Who will
again go and try and get the house?” And the hawk answered, “I will go,” but
when he got to the house he met the frog, and the frog blew on his flute again,
and the parrot again heard and came and killed the hawk. Then once more the
cowries said, “Who will again go?” And a small bird named Aroiii offered. But
the cowries said, “No, you are too small.” Nevertheless Aroiii persisted saying,
“No, let me try and you will see,” and they replied, “Try on.” Then Aroiii said,
“Give me seven cowries,” and he took them to the market and bought foods
and peppers and tying them up went off to the parrot’s house. There, as had
the other birds, he met the frog, and after saluting him said, “I hear you are
skilled in playing the flute; may I look at it?”
The frog thereupon handed it to him. Aroiii, under pretence of examining it,
filled up the mouthpiece with the dainty foods and peppers he had bought in
the market. Finally he handed it back with the remark that it was indeed a good
flute, then suddenly commenced to lift the house. At this the frog caught up the
flute to blow, but finding something dropped into his mouth put the flute down
in order to swallow it; again he jerked up the flute to blow, again something
fell into his mouth, again he lowered the instrument. Meanwhile Aroiii had
carried away the house to the cowries. But when the frog had finished all that
there was in the flute he blew . . . , and the parrot hearing thought his house
was attacked as before, but coming back found to his surprise that he was too
late, and that it had gone.
He went to sack the cowries’ house. Now this house had seven gates (each
leading to a courtyard) before the real house was reached, and the seventh gate
was of iron.
The parrot split the first gate with his beak, and the second and the third and
so on to the seventh. At the seventh he struck in vain as it was of iron, but his
beak was bent and has so remained until this day.17

This narrative is about the bending of the parrot’s beak, as the title and the
last paragraph make clear. The frog’s flute is secondary, yet its sudden ap-
pearance in the second paragraph without any introduction suggests that
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 79

flute playing by frogs is a common practice in Yoruba mythology: “The

frog was alone and, not knowing what to do, took his flute and began to
blow on it, on hearing which the parrot came back.” It also suggests that
flute playing is a method of communication or sending signals among the
Yoruba. This is, in fact, supported ethnomusicologically because the Yoruba
language is tonal and three-note combinations played by flutes (and more
commonly by drums) are capable of communicating and sending messages.
This is perhaps also metaphorically supported by the characteristic that frogs
croak with various pitches, creating an interlocking effect that is similar to
the interlocking of pitches produced by talking drums and flutes.18
In story 2, “The Turtle, the Monkey, and the Jaguar,” from the other
side of the Atlantic Ocean, a turtle is the primary flutist in Gê mythology
from Brazil, although the monkey also plays the flute. Unlike in the story
where the frog plays the flute for sending messages, the turtle and monkey
in story 2 play the jaguar bone flute merely for pleasure: “Resigned to his
fate, the turtle started to play the flute. A monkey nearby heard the music,
approached the turtle, and, feeling sorry for him, freed him from the stick.
In gratitude, the turtle gave the flute to the monkey. The latter left, joyfully
playing the flute and jumping up and down.” Although the message seems
to be flute-playing for pleasure, it can also be flute-playing with a jaguar
bone flute to belittle the jaguar and demonstrate power over the jaguar. This
theme is taken up in chapter 9, “Flutes and Protective Power.”
Returning to Africa, a folktale from the Republic of South Africa, “How
Hlakanyana Outwitted the Monster,” also includes a shinbone flute made,
however, from a hare rather than a jaguar. Hlakanyana (a human) is a trick-
ster figure in Nguni (also Zulu) folklore, and he is the primary flutist and
maker of the hare-bone flute. However, he has his flute taken away from him
by a leguan, a large monitor lizard like an iguana but reaching a length of
six to eight feet that also knows how to play the flute. The following story
was originally told to Nelson Mandela by Jack Cope, and approximately
the first half is retold here by me because the flute and flute playing occur
before the trickster encounters the monster. Because the second half of this
folktale is not about a flute, I rename my retelling of this portion as “How
Hlakanyana Made and Lost His Flute.”
A young man named Hlakanyana, who was quite a trickster, had made enemies
among his people and found it necessary to leave his home and his mother
because particular warriors were hunting for him. He walked for days and
was very unhappy because he was hungry and tired. Hlakanyana was also a
musician and enjoyed playing a flute and singing, but now he did not have his
flute, and he was too sad and hungry to sing.
80 Ch a p t er 6

In search of food, Hlakanyana climbed a small hill where he could see in

every direction. Suddenly he saw a hare in the grass. “How can I catch that
hare?” he thought. “Hares are smart and can run fast. It will certainly hear me
if I try to sneak up on it.” So, Hlikanyana decided to simply walk up and say
“Hello, hare,” and then sit down on a rock and talk to it.
“Why are your ears so long?” Hlakanyana asked the hare.
“Better to hear with, even before things happen,” replied the hare.
“Do you hear the flute being played?” asked Hlakanyana.
“No, I don’t hear a flute,” the hare answered.
Hlakanyana continued to talk. “I just came from the river and I saw many
buffaloes sleeping in the shade under the trees. Now I can hear them running
towards us and we must run fast so we won’t be trampled. Don’t you hear them?”
“No, I don’t hear anything,” replied the hare.
“Quickly, clean out your long ears and listen carefully. The buffaloes are
stampeding towards us and we will be trampled.”
Hare took a blade of grass and twisted it in each ear to clean them. Still it
could not hear the hooves of the buffaloes.
“We must hurry!” shouted Hlakanyana. “Put both ears to the ground and
you will certainly be able hear them. Then you will believe me and we can run
away to a safe place.”
Hare did as the trickster suggested, and when it did, Hlakanyana quickly
stepped on both of its ears, pinning the animal to the ground. The trickster
quickly killed the hare, roasted it over a fire, and ate it. No longer hungry and
feeling much better, he then took one of the hare’s shinbones and made a flute
from it. When he finished making and tuning the flute he continued on his
journey, happily playing the following song:

I tricked a hare,
and it was very cute.
But now I don’t care,
’Cause its shinbone’s my flute.

After climbing down the hill to the river where there were no buffaloes, of
course, Hlakanyana soon reached a part of the river where the current was
very slow because of a deep lagoon. There he saw a big leguan lizard sitting in
a large tree, which spoke to him.
“Who are you and where are you from?” asked the lizard.
Hlakanyana answered the leguan by playing a song on his shinbone flute.
Impressed by the music, the lizard said to Hlakanyana: “Give me your flute.”
“No, I won’t give it to you,” Hlakanyana replied.
“Then I will take it from you,” said the lizard.
“Go ahead and try,” said Hlakanyana.
The big lizard slowly climbed out of the tree, and Hlakanyana saw that its
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 81

tail was long and thin, like a whip. It made him somewhat concerned and a
little scared.
“Give me your flute and let’s not have a fight,” said the lizard.
“You think you can double-talk me because of your forked tongue,” Hlakan-
yana replied.
Like a flash of lightning the leguan whipped his long tail, striking and knock-
ing Hlakanyana down, causing him to fall and drop his flute. Quickly the lizard
picked up the flute and dove into the depths of the lagoon, disappearing from
sight with his newly acquired musical instrument.
The trickster himself was tricked, beaten at his own game and losing his flute
forever. He knew he would never get his flute back from the big lizard, and
once again he became very sad as he continued his long journey without being
able to play music.
In the distance Hlakanyana could hear the lizard playing his stolen hare-
shinbone flute near the deep lagoon in the river. The lizard was playing a song
to make the cows come to the river so it could tie their hind legs together with
its tail and milk them.

While this flutetale does not include much information about the leguan’s
flute skills other than that his flute song is capable of charming the cows
and making them come closer to the river, it suggests that in the hands and
with the breath of a giant lizard, the flute has special power.

Fish as Flutists, Flutes as Fish

Flutes are aerophones, rather than “aquaphones.” This means, of course,
that their sound is made by the vibration of air and not water. In fact, flutes
cannot obviously sound under water. Why, then, would there be fish as flut-
ists in folklore? The answer is simply that anything is possible in folklore/
mythology. Fish as flutists, however, is very rare; the only example in print
seems to be from the Colombian Tukano of the Papuri region. In a folktale
published by Fulop, the yuruparí flutes were taught to the women by fish.19
He also relates that the flutes were originally birds.
In spite of the unlikelihood of flutes played by fish, there are numerous
examples of flutes resembling fish in ethnomusicological literature. Among
the ancient Sinú of northern Colombia, for example, ceramic flutes were
made to resemble fish.20 In addition, the Waiãpi of French Guiana play
their piri ra’anga flutes during their fish festivals; the shapes of their flutes
resemble fish of various types, and the dancers and other festival participants
are transformed into fish.21
The most detailed information about “flutes as fish,” however, comes
from the Brazilian Kalapalo Amerindians in northern Mato Grosso state.
82 Ch a p t er 6

In her book A Musical View of the Universe, anthropologist Ellen B. Basso

presents a Kalapalo myth that explains how their ritual flutes were once
“powerful beings who lived underwater and were caught in traps and nets
like fish” by Kafunetiga, a fisherman.22 The powerful beings-cum-flutes—
that is, like fish, looking a little like fish, but not fish—were three types:
kagutu, kuluta, and meneuga. They were “actually” fishlike sisters who
sang beautiful songs. The hero of the story, Kafunetiga, went fishing in the
typical South American rainforest manner by damming up a stream with
branches and trapping the fish in the small reservoir that was formed. The
fisherman would then shoot the fish with arrows (or in more recent times
with a rifle) or capture them in a net. Early one morning Kafunetiga went to
his dammed-up stream and found he had trapped a kagutu fish, and then he
trapped a colorful kuluta fish. Both were singing, but they stopped singing
when he netted them. Next, he trapped a meneuga fish, which also stopped
singing when he captured it. These three fish behaved like musical instru-
ments, like flutes, and Kafunetiga realized they were powerful creatures. He
brought them home for his people, and since that time the Kalapalo have
had sacred flutes and Kafunetiga is remembered as the owner of the flutes.23
Basso’s analysis of this myth reveals several important points that do not
explain the fishlike characteristics of the powerful beings-cum-flutes, espe-
cially the kagutu, which is the most powerful of the instruments, but rather
expound upon their female sexuality. She explains, “The language used by
the Kalapalo to talk about the kagutu is characterized by metaphors for fe-
male sexuality. The shape and appearance of these large, tubular instruments,
rather than seeming phallic to them, are likened to the female sexual organ:
the mouth of this flute is called its ‘vagina’ (igïgï), and when the set of kagutu
is stored high in the rafters of the sponsor’s house during periods when it is
not played, the instruments are said to be ‘menstruating.’”24 This is a stark
contrast to most of the metaphors of male sexuality associated with flutes
throughout the world (see chapters 3 and 5). However, when the metaphor
involves fish, the symbolism is perhaps not about the animal’s shape but
about water and its relationship to fertility. With regard to the importance of
water in native Colombian mythology, for example, anthropologist Armand
Labbé relates. “In the esoteric lore of many native groups, life results from
the union of the female and male aspects of the life force, said to manifest
itself in the real world by permeating the medium of water, resulting in
protoplasm, blood, and chlorophyll.”25 Likewise, anthropologist Johannes
Wilbert discusses the symbolism of fish: “As a fertility symbol, the fish is
widely distributed throughout the tropical forest area of South America.
It occurs in ritual song, in narratives, as masks, costumes, body paint, and
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 83

amulets. It decorates baskets, boats, and paraphernalia. . . . However, no

matter how varied the shapes and forms in which the fish symbol occurs,
it carries one basic message—that of fertility.”26 Water, fish, and fishlike or
other water creatures, such as freshwater dolphins, snakes, and the kagutu
powerful beings––all South American rainforest inhabitants––are symbols
of fertility, regardless of their gender associations.
Therefore, fish and flutes seem to have an important relationship in some
cultures. In fact, among the Kalapalo, their fish-as-flutes are supernatural
beings from mythic times. More about the supernatural quality of flutes
among the Kalapalo and other cultures is found in chapter 8, under the
subsection “Supernatural Origins of Flutes and Flute Compositions.”

Mammals as Flutists
Mammals, other than humans, also play flutes in flutelore, as indicated in
the last part of story 2 where a monkey “joyfully” plays the jaguar-bone
flute. In the animal kingdom, however, the flute seems to be more of an
instrument of choice for reptiles.
A folktale from the Philippines, “The Adventures of Magboloto,” is one
of the few stories mentioning a flute-playing mammal—a rat. The flutist
is not just an ordinary rat, however; he is the King of Rats. Magboloto,
the hero of the story, is a mortal who falls in love with a beautiful, winged
goddess. She agrees to marry Magboloto, although she was tricked by him
because he stole her wings and, therefore, she couldn’t return to her celestial
home. One day she finds out where her husband had hidden her wings; she
attaches them and flies away to join her sisters. Magboloto travels about
the world seeking the help of the four Winds to find her. At one point near
the end of the story, the King of Rats comes to help the distressed mortal.
“Magboloto, Magboloto, why do you weep?” asked a voice nearby.
Looking down, Magboloto saw that it was the King of Rats who had spoken.
“Ask me nothing if you cannot help me,” he said.
“I will help you if I can,” the King of Rats promised.
So Magboloto told the rat the whole story just as he had related it to the
King of Ants. When he had finished, the King of Rats brought forth a small
flute and blew several notes upon it. Instantly they were surrounded by a large
army of rats who stood at attention, awaiting their king’s command.27

Before Magboloto received help from the King of Rats, who summoned
an army of rats with his flute, he received help from the King of Ants, who
summoned an army of ants with a tiny horn. These particular musical in-
struments become meaningful metaphors because rats and mice squeak, and
84 Ch a p t er 6

the sound of a small flute, like a piccolo, perhaps, can imitate high-pitched
rodent sounds. Ants and other insects buzz, and the sound of a tiny horn,
like a bugle, perhaps (i.e., a lip concussion aerophone) is buzzy, like insects.
Such sound symbolism and the use of animal metaphors occur among the
Tukano Indians and other Native American cultures of the Colombian and
Brazilian Amazonian rainforest, as reported by anthropologists Gerardo
Reichel-Dolmatoff and Claude Lévi-Strauss, and summarized by me in ear-
lier publications.28 The phenomena very likely occur in other regions of the
world where squeaky vermin and buzzy insects are found.
The following Quechua or Incan folktale from Peruvian coast, variously
called “Big Mouth” and “Why the Fox Has a Huge Mouth” in English, sug-
gests a relationship between foxes and flutes: “Formerly Fox had a small,
dainty mouth. One day he heard Wren singing and asked to borrow his
flutelike bill. Wren gave it to him and sewed up Fox’s mouth to make it even
smaller, so that the ‘flute’ would fit. To the sound of Fox’s music, dancing
skunks suddenly appeared, causing Fox to laugh so hard that the stitches
broke and his mouth tore open to its present size.”29
In his discussion of this folktale, John Bierhorst likens the fox in the
Andes to a trickster figure that has ancient roots in the Americas. He also
explains that the origin of the tale is unknown, and that because it did not
appear in its Spanish form until the nineteenth century, scholars believe it
to be pre‑Columbian. Teacher Janelle Price calls it a “tale of justice” and “a
good social lesson. The fox does not keep his word and is punished for it.
What better way to teach children the lessons of keeping one’s word and a
sense of honor.”30
Foxes in the Andes are also considered auspicious because of their howling.
It is believed that if a fox on the top of a sacred mountain howls loudly, it will
rain and the crops will grow. On the other hand, if his howling is not loud,
it will not rain and crops will not grow.31 This relationship of loud howl-
ing–abundant rain–good crops versus soft howling–slight rain–bad crops is
similar to the sound of particular flutes in the Andes whose loud whistling
sounds attract rain, allowing for an abundant harvest (see also chapter 7).

Insects as Flutists
Insects usually make buzzy rather than whistle sounds—the King of Ants,
in an earlier story, for example, plays a buzzy trumpet. A particular insect
that makes whistle sounds by playing a flute is the locust among the Zuni
of the American Southwest. In my version of the beginning of the tale “How
Locust Tricked Coyote,” the locust not only displays his ability to play the
flute but he also outwits the coyote:
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 85

Locust loved playing his flute, and he was very proud of how well he played.
One day he sat in a piñon tree playing his flute, and the high pitched chirps
of his flute wafted into the desert. Then he stopped playing and shouted, “My
name is Locust, and I am the best fluteplayer on earth.” Coyote heard someone
playing lots of high notes on a flute and went to find out who it was. When he
got to the piñon tree, there he saw Locust playing the flute. Suddenly Locust
put his flute aside and chirped out a song with the following words:

Kokopelli is hump-backed,
Kokopelli’s feet are backward,
Kokopelli has a flute,
Kokopelli is a fine flute player.
So am I.32

Coyote begs Locust to teach him a song, but Coyote the trickster is so dumb
he cannot learn the song. Locust says to himself, “You can never teach a
good song to a half-wit.” Ultimately, Locust out-tricks Coyote but not with
his flute––his flute and flute playing, in fact, are not discussed in the story
beyond the opening few lines. The same story was also written down by Elsie
Parsons in 1918 with the title “Forgetting the Song: The Empty Masks,”
but she says very little about flute playing in her version; however, a group
of locusts sing about the flute:
Long, long ago at Kanulaa lived a coyote. At Wempo lived the locusts (chumali).
They would climb up a piñon-tree, and there all day long they sang,

Chumali chumali shohkoya. Locust, locust, flute.

chumali chumali shohkoya. Locust, locust, flute.
hechotata chupachinte The piñon-tree they climb up.
shohkoy shohkoy. Flute, flute.

Coyote looked up into the tree. There were the locusts. He said, “Grandmothers
[hotakwe], grandfathers [nanakwe], are you playing?”
The locusts said, “Yes.” Coyote said, “May I play too?”—“Yes.”33

Later, in 1938, however, Parsons gives the following details about Locust in
a brief article, “The Humpbacked Flute Player of the Southwest”:
The humpbacked flute player of the rock walls and potsherds is so obviously
an insect, “once you see it,” that no analysis is called for; but I might point out
that among the pictographs near the Village of the Great Kivas (Zuñi Valley) the
flutist is represented in company with other insects, a plausible association. . . .
Locust is the musical and curing patron of Hopi Flute societies. He is rep-
resented playing the flute on Flute altar tiles. Hopi have locust medicine for
wounds, inferably belonging to the Flute societies. This medicine is “explained”
86 Ch a p t er 6

in the Emergence myth. When Locust was sent up from below to scout for an
exit into the upper world, the Clouds shot their bolts through him and he just
went on playing his flute. In another version, after the Emergence when Locust
was shot with arrows he died and then came back to life. Locust, the unwink-
ing, is a brave man, a suitable patron for societies that cure for lightning shock
and, inferably, for arrow or gun wounds.
The Flute societies have locust medicine to dream coming events, possibly
in war, and pieces of locust are thrown on the fire (by Flute chiefs?) to bring
warm weather. The Flute societies of Oraibi had charge of the sun from winter
solstice to summer solstice. In [a] Hopi folk tale the flute is played to melt the
snow, by the Locusts when they are appealed to by the Snakes. They sing:

Hao my fathers, hao my mothers!

Drab Flutes, Blue Flutes (Flute societies)
My fathers, beautiful living
(In) summer will begin for us.
(In) summer blossoms wave, (in) summer blossoms will sway.34

The humpbacked flute-playing locust entity is known as Kokopelli, a fer-

tility deity among the Anasazi, Hopi, and Zuni (see chapter 7).35 Locust
is without a doubt the most powerful insect flute player in world folklore
and mythology.
In the Book of the Hopi, Frank Waters describes the origin myth of the
humpbacked flute player, which he writes as Kókopilau, and clearly describes
the Hopi culture hero as a locust or katydid:
Hay-ya, ha-ya, mel-lo. . . .
So the people began their migrations, climbing up a high mountain. They
were accompanied by two insect people resembling the katydid or locust, the
máhu [insect that has the heat power]. On top they met a great bird, the eagle.
One of the máhus, acting as a spokesman for the people, asked the eagle, “Have
you been living here very long?”
“Yes,” replied the eagle, “since the creation of this Fourth World.”
“We have traveled a long way to reach this new land,” said the máhu. “Will
you permit us to live here with you?”
“Perhaps,” answered the eagle. “But I must test you first.”
...
“You are a people of great strength,” observed the eagle. “But the second test
is much harder [than the first test] and I don’t believe you will pass it.”
“We are ready for the second test,” said the two máhus.
The eagle pulled out a bow, cocked an arrow, and shot the first máhu through
the body. The máhu, with the arrow sticking out one side of him, lifted the
flute he had brought with him and began to play a sweet and tender melody.
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 87

“Well,” said the eagle. “You have more power than I thought!” so he shot the
other máhu with a second arrow.
The two máhus, both pierced with arrows, played their flutes still more ten-
derly and sweetly, producing a soothing vibration and an uplift of spirit which
healed their pierced bodies.

Waters goes on to explain the following about the humpbacked insect flutist
(the words in brackets are his, the second one a footnote):
The locust máhu is known as the Humpbacked Flute Player, the kachina named
Kókopilau, because he looked like wood [koko—wood; pilau—hump]. In the
hump on his back he carried seeds of plants and flowers [the Kókopilau or
Kokopeli kachina is often made with a long penis to symbolize the seeds of
human reproduction also], and with the music of his flute he created warmth.
When the people moved off on their migrations over the continent they carved
pictographs of him on rocks all the way from the tip of South America up to
Canada, and it was for these two máhus that the Blue Flute and Gray Flute
clans and societies were named.

According to the myth, some of the people migrated north with “the Blue
Flute Clan, accompanied by one of the two máhus. Every so often this
Humpbacked Flute Player would stop and scatter seeds from the hump on
his back. Then he would march on, playing his flute and singing a song.”
They migrated as far north as the Arctic Circle, where Spider Woman con-
vinced them to use their magic powers to melt the snow and ice, “the Blue
Flute Clan using the Humpbacked Flute Player to play his flute to bring
tropical warmth.” However, the Creator punished them for melting the
snow and ice, and the people returned to the Southwest where they had
begun their journey.36
Today, numerous flute societies still exist among the Hopi. Although
Waters never says so, the máhu, the heat-giving insect or locust god, must
surely be the same as Kokopelli, the humpbacked flute-playing deity of the
Anasazi and other Native peoples of the American Southwest.

Why Do Some Animals Play Flutes?

Most of the thinking about perspectivism has focused on Amazonian and
other rainforest indigenous people in South America, perhaps because South
American shamanism is a prevalent topic that has been rigorously studied
for many decades. Steve Beyer describes the cosmological relationship be-
tween various forms of life in one part of the South American rainforest:
“In the Amazon, plants and animals are ascribed the status of persons,
88 Ch a p t er 6

who may differ corporeally from human persons but, like them, possess
intentionality and agency. Indeed, other-than-human persons are believed
to see themselves in human form, and thus to be self-aware of their own
personhood.”37 It is usually emphasized by perspectivism scholars that
animals consider themselves “other-than-human persons” but “persons”
nevertheless. As “persons,” many are apparently able to play flutes and other
musical instruments, and this, I believe, is one reason why some flutetales
are about animal flutists. In addition, some of these other-than-human
persons can remove their outer garments and expose their white skin, two
aspects that are evident in the following excerpt of the Warao folktale in
which vultures play flutes: “These people were very fair [i.e., light skinned],
much like white persons, a thing not to be wondered at, because they were
really vultures . . . who had taken off their feathers just for the occasion, to
hang about the place and decorate it. They were dancing and singing the
makuari tune on all sorts of musical instruments, from the harri-harri flute
to the rattle.” The idea of animals’ garments being ornaments that can be
removed is also suggested by Beyer: “These percepts extend to all aspects
of culture: animals see their fur, feathers, claws, and beaks as body decora-
tions and cultural instruments, and their social system as organized in the
same way as human institutions.”38 Therefore, in indigenous perspectiv-
ism theory, animals and humans are the same—they are both persons, as
explained by Viveiros de Castro: “The common condition of humans and
animals is humanity, not animality.”39 These persons are capable of playing
flutes because they are probably transformed shamans, as inferred by Beyer:
“In the Amazon, this idea is almost always associated with another—that
the visible form of every species is an envelope, a form of clothing, that
conceals an internal human form visible only to other members of the
same species, or to a shaman. This clothing is changeable and removable;
in the Amazon, not only do shamans become jaguars, but also humans
and animals constantly shift into each other, in what anthropologist Peter
Rivière has called a ‘highly transformational world.’” 40 Amazonian cultures
do this to kill, cure, and fertilize, according to Beyer. While this theory of
indigenous perspectivism (or Amerindian perspectivism because it is applied
only to certain South American rainforest cultures in the above examples)
may explain why some animals play flutes, it certainly does not provide
an explanation for the bulk of the stories about animals as flutists. The
importance of the theory lies in the fact that an understanding is attempted
through the perspectives of the insiders themselves, rather than the often
biased perspectives of outsiders. In most cases, however, insider perspectives
about flutelore are simply not known.
 Flu t es a n d t h e A n im a l K i ngdom 89

Whereas in this chapter we have seen animals playing flutes (or people
imitating animals playing flutes) for both life-taking and life-giving situa-
tions, we have also seen a large number of animals playing flutes just for
enjoyment. The next chapter discusses numerous folktales and ethnographies
that reveal relationships between flutes and flute sounds and other aspects
of nature, such as agriculture, seasons, weather, and others. Fertility is again
prominent in flute tales about the growing of crops and the weather required
for planting and harvesting.
Story 7

The Origin of Maize

Yupa culture, Venezuela

In early times the Yupa possessed no maize [a type of corn]. They ate
makáhka (a tuber which grows in the mountains. It looks somewhat like
wild okumo and is also just about as sharp.)
One day Oséema, in the form of a small boy, appeared in the village of the
Yupa and asked for shelter. The woman of one of the households bade him
enter: They invited him to live there and set makáhka before him. The boy,
however, did not care for this particular food. Therefore, he was constantly
scolded when he refused the share apportioned to him.
When Oséema was three years old, he stole away into the forest every
day to make a calabah [calabash] full of túka for himself. Each time, he
emptied out the calabash so that nobody would discover his secret. Although
Oséema’s foster mother suspected that the boy was feeding himself in some
way or other, she never discovered the maize dish he prepared.
As time went on, it became rather disagreeable for this family and the others
in the village to have the strange lad living among them. They looked not a
little askance at him but as it turned out, particularly because whenever little
Oséema urinated, various plants sprang up that today we call batata, auyama,
and bananas. Besides all this, the boy reeked so strongly of these plants that
the Yupa drove him out of their village with scoldings and beatings.
Oséema ran into the mountains, and there he met his companion Kïrïkï
(Squirrel), who accompanied Oséema on all his journeyings since he was
invisible to mankind for the most part. Oséema related to Kïrïkï all that
had befallen him, and together they decided to forsake mankind and earth.

Johannes Wilbert, ed., Yupa Folktales, 127–31; reprinted with permission from
the Latin American Institute, University of California–Los Angeles.
 T h e Or igi n of M a ize 91

Thereupon they made two arunse [flutes] and set out upon their way, mak-
ing music as they went.
Along their way they happened upon [another] Yupa village. Three adult
women and three girls came running out to meet them, so curious were
they about the delightful music. They asked them why they had made these
rare instruments and why they made music on them. Oséema explained to
them that these were arunse: a large one (male) and a little one (female),
which he and his companion played as they proceeded on their journey. The
women were much taken by the beautiful music and bade the wanderers
to tarry a few days. One of the women also offered Oséema her daughter
so that his sojourn would be more pleasant. Oséema rejoiced at the confi-
dence of these people, for up to this moment he had experienced nothing
but the scoldings and grumblings of mankind, and consented to stay there
for a short time with his companion. However, he declined the services of
the girl with the excuse that all girls were his true sisters and all women
his mothers. So the women urged him no further and were content merely
that the two guests stayed on. In the village, the women informed their men
that far from being strangers, both guests were, according to Oséema’s own
words, their very next-of-kin.
In the evening, the men went to hunt, leaving the womenfolk behind
alone with the two guests. The latter played upon their musical instruments
until midnight. Then suddenly Oséema broke off the music and ordered
the women and girls to prepare little fields round about their houses. The
women, not knowing how to conduct themselves at first, obediently followed
the example of Oséema. He showed them everything, and after this work
was done, he distributed among them kernels of corn that he carried in his
head. He asked them to throw these kernels upon the prepared fields. After
all kernels had been sown, the women went back to their houses to rest for
the remainder of the night after the strenuous work. During the night, the
maize sprouted, grew high, and ripened. In the fields, batata, auyama, and
bananas were also growing.
The next morning as they stepped out of their houses, the women saw
what had happened. Oséema bade them be silent and then made himself
known to them. He revealed that he had come to earth in order to bring
the Yupa a better sustenance than makáhka. In the first village, however, he
had been mistreated and forced to eat [that] unpleasant root. It had been
in their company that he had first felt comfortable, and in gratitude for
their friendship, he had made them the gift of the new food plant. From
92 Story 7

this moment henceforth, no makáhka should be eaten. Then he showed

the women and girls how the different crops—but most especially the
maize—could be harvested and prepared. The women tasted the maize and
then gave some of it to their men, who had returned in the meantime. All
found the maize most tasty and gladly forswore makáhka for the future.
They set themselves straightaway to the task of making new fields, and the
women sowed the corn.
A year passed. Oséema and Kïrïkï remained living among the Yupa. News
of the strangers and their gifts spread quickly over the mountains, penetrat-
ing to the most outlying villages. All the Yupa, even those who had rejected
Oséema, begged him for maize. But Oséema did not respond to their pleas
and forbade his Yupa friends to give away their maize.
Oséema and his companion would have stayed with the Yupa for several
years more perhaps, had it not been for an unfortunate occurrence. One day
a woman had threshed a calabash full of maize and had left it carelessly on
a tree trunk that was lying on the ground. Kïrïkï, who was in the process
of stepping over the log, hit against the calabash, which slid off, scattering
the kernels. At this very instant, a heavy rain set in, which was a sign to
Oséema of what had happened. Because of this, Oséema was determined
to take his leave of the Yupa. However, he did not punish them further and
even permitted the other Yupa to grow maize after his departure. The Yupa
were deeply grieved over the accident as well as the departure of Oséema
and attempted to make him change his mind. But Oséema stood by his
decision and explicitly forbade the Yupa to make inquiries concerning the
destination of his journey.
Following the misfortune, Kïrïkï had hidden himself in the forest, hoping
that Oséema would learn nothing of what had happened. But on returning
to the village on evening, he was told that Oséema had already departed,
but whither they did not know since they had been forbidden to ask his
destination.
Kïrïkï knew immediately that he would never find Oséema again. He ran
back into the forest and changed himself into a squirrel.
Soon, however, the rain ceased, and all the Yupa began to grow maize. But
before they harvest the maize, they blow—even today—upon the instruments
of Oséema, that he may always grant them an abundant new harvest.
Ch a p t er 7

Flutes and Nature

In story 7, “The Origin of Maize,” a food origin–culture hero myth of the

Yupa Indians of western Venezuela,1 a pair of duct flutes (Olsen category
3) called atunse have magical power for growing and harvesting maize
(corn). These flutes are types of fertility symbols, not because of their shapes
but because they represent male and female—that is, one is male and the
other female. That symbolism is applied to the growing and harvesting
of agricultural products, as seen in the story. Indeed, all life (of animals,
humans, and plants, its creation and continuation) is assured by fertility,
by the attracting and joining of male and female and by the planting and
harvesting of crops. With regard to the latter, rain is a requirement for the
growing of crops, and the abundance of rain is also related to fertility and
particular types of flutes that are able to control the weather. Also evident
in “The Origin of Maize” is that the flute music is “beautiful,” “delightful,”
and pleasing to the god Oséema.

Flutes, Fertility, and Animal Procreation

Animal and vegetal fertility are closely related in many cultures, and flutes
are often the power intermediary between them and supernatural assurance
for procreation and bountiful harvests. Among the Usarufa in New Guinea,
pigs and plants are included in the same sentence when talking about the
fertility power of their secret flutes: “Pigs, yams, and all the gardens used to
do well when the flutes were played. . . . Sweet potato, pigs, bananas, and
sugar cane used to grow big from the flute playing.”2
Among the Q’eros in the southern Peruvian Andes, a vertical notched
flute known as pinkuyllu (Olsen category 2) is played by men with sing-
ing by women during two animal fertility rituals, Aqhata Ukyachichis for
94 Ch a p t er 7

male llamas and Phallchay for female llamas and alpacas. The male flutes
(and flute players) and female singing (and female singers) feature yet an-
other male-female relationship: The two melodies consist of three notes
each, and the middle notes join together creating a two-note unison sound
throughout parts of the song. This coming together and conjoining for
various instances during a performance are perhaps symbolic of the sexual
union of the animals. It is obviously a symbol of duality, as Wissler writes:
“This unprecedented combination of flute and voice, male and female, is
consistent with the Andean sense of ‘yanantin’ (duality), and introduces a
dimension of gender into the musical structure.”3 More than that, I feel, it
is a metaphor for conception.
We have also seen the concept of duality with the Amazonian Desana,
whereby the male and female halves of their panpipe constitute completeness,
fertility, and power (see chapter 4). One of the most important functions of
the panpipe and its music is to “establish the fertility of humans and game
animals.”4 About the latter, Gerardo Reichel-Dolmatoff states, “It is usual
for the youths to play their panpipes on the trail to the forest or on the riv-
erbanks because this music is sexually exciting to Vaí-mahsë [the master of
the game animals] and thus contributes to the fertility of the game animals.”5

Flutes, Seasonality, and the Growing/Harvesting of Crops

In many regions of the central Andes, especially in Bolivia, Ecuador, and Peru,
among the Aymara and the Kechua Amerindians and mestizos (mixed native
and Spanish), the pinkullo (also spelled pinkillu and others) duct flute (Olsen
category 3) is seasonal and played only during particular calendrical periods,
such as the rainy season from October through March, as Arturo Jiménez
Borja explains: “This flute is played during the season when the great rains
begin. . . . Before playing the instrument it is moistened in chicha [corn beer],
alcohol, or water. The coincidence of . . . festivals with the arrival of the rains,
the moistening of the wood before making the flutes, and the moistening of
the instruments before playing them, is quite significant.”6 The pinkullo is
associated with fertility, as the symbolism suggested above would indicate.
In the North American Southwest, it is believed that Kokopelli, an ancient
humpbacked flute-playing god of the Anasazi and other pre-Columbian
cultures in the Southwest,7 was associated with fertility:
[T]he Zuni regard Kokopelli as a rainmaker, one of the u-wan-am-mi, the
spirits of children who perished in the Great Flood. These “water monsters”
can sometimes be prevailed upon to bring water to a parched earth from their
 Flu t es a n d Nat u r e 95

realm at the bottom of the Lake of Death—located, in the minds of many

Indians, at Listening Spring Lake, where the Zuni and Little Colorado Rivers
meet. Identification of Kokopelli with the “water monsters” is a mythological
take on the original Hohokam [an ancient culture in the Southwest] flautist as
a shaman primarily engaged in conjuring water.8

To assure his fertility, the original pre-Columbian petroglyphs of Koko-

pelli feature exaggerated male genitalia: “Kokopelli portrayals are generally
strongly phallic, since this deity has a major role in all rites concerned with
fecundity, or increase and fertility. He is a hunter and had the power of
keeping game animals fertile. With his flute he helps bring rain necessary
for the maturing of corn and other crops.”9 Over many decades, Catholic
missionary priests succeeded in convincing the Southwest Native peoples to
omit phalluses on their artifacts such as pottery and jewelry, both for moral
and commercial reasons. In spite of his “emasculation” by the removal of
his genitalia for tourism, Kokopelli maintains his symbolic fertility power
because of his flute, which is a covert rather than overt male sexual symbol.
Although Kokopelli as a flute player is depicted only on Southwestern
archaeological artifacts and petroglyphs, some historical and modern Hopi
katchina (also spelled kachina and katcina) figurines of the Hopi and Pueblo
Native Americans, primarily in New Mexico, are also called Kokopelli.10
However, these figurines do not represent flute players; rather, they are
constructed with a long nose often referred to as a snout. Parsons suggests
that the ancient Kokopelli’s flute morphed into the historical and present
Kokopelli’s snout among the San Juan Pueblo, who refer to the snout as a
“nose whistle stick.”11 She further points out that the Kokopelli katchina
spirits whistle when they arrive, which gives evidence for flute or whistle
sounds as supernatural power.
Kokopelli, with his flute, is similar to other powerful heroes in other cul-
tures where mythical male flutists have great fertility power for the successful
growth of crops. Rudolf Felber and Theodore Baker, for example, explain
that in ancient China, a powerful man known as “Tzon-Jen . . . needed only
to breathe on his flute to mitigate the chill climate of his fatherland and
secure plenteous harvests from the fields.”12

Flutes and Weather Control

The use of flutes for weather control is directly related to their use for such
seasonal activities as growing and harvesting crops, as discussed above. Eth-
nographic stories about the South American Andean cultures are particularly
96 Ch a p t er 7

informative, such as the writings of ethnomusicologist Henry Stobart about

the people of central Bolivia: “Musical instruments are often believed to
influence agricultural production directly, and their sound is considered to
affect the weather.” The Bolivian pinkillu and its variant the saripalka (see
figure 15) are associated with the rainy season because they are believed to
cause rain. Another Bolivian duct flute, the tarka (see figure 16), however,
is used to make the rains stop and cause dry weather so the people can cel-
ebrate Carnaval, “when continued rain would spoil the ripening crops.”13

15. A type of pinkillo duct flute known as saripalka from Calcha

Province, Potosí Department, Bolivia, being played during Carna-
val. Photograph by Henry Stobart, 1987. Used with permission.
 Flu t es a n d Nat u r e 97

16. Tarka duct flutes from Eucalyptus, Cercado Province, Oruro

Department, Bolivia, being played during Carnaval. Photograph by
Henry Stobart, 1987. Used with permission.

Both flute types are instruments for controlling the weather, and are thus
associated with the propagation of crops.
In traditional Norway, a small bark flute called seljefløyte has weather-
controlling beliefs associated with it, as Ola Kai Ledang relates: “[Elderly]
informants from many places mention restrictions against whistling or flute-
blowing during periods when farmers needed dry weather. . . . ‘No, stop this
[playing the seljefløyte]! You only pull down rain with it.’”14 The whistling
and blowing in the elderly informant’s explanation and admonition are
metaphors for the whistling and blowing of the wind prior to a rainstorm.
However, the whistling sound’s power to pull down rain may also be similar
to the belief in northern Peru that whistle sounds, either by mouth or with
small globular flutes (Olsen category 6; see conclusion, figures 22 and 23),
can pull down helping spirits to aid the curanderos (“curers” or shamans)
in their curing practices.15

Flutes, the Wind, and the Willows

Poetry and folklore abound with references to flutes and the wind. Many are
poems of loneliness, with the wind transporting the sound of some distant
98 Ch a p t er 7

flute, reminding the listener (the poet) of home. Li Po (ca. a.c. 701–62),
an itinerate Chinese poet from Szechuan and one of the greatest poets of
the Tang Dynasty, wrote the following poem, “Spring Night in Lo-yang:
Hearing a Flute,” in which the spring wind carries the sound of a jade flute:
In what house, the jade flute that sends these dark notes drifting,
scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang?
Tonight if we should hear the willow-breaking song,
who could help but long for the gardens of home?16

Moreover, the flute reminds the poet of the gardens of his home, especially if
he could hear “The Willow Breaking Song,” a song of great longing. Another
poem about a flute and the wind, this one from France by Judith Gaultier
(1845–1917) titled “La Flûte Mystérieuse” (A flute of marvel), may have
been inspired by Li Po’s poem:
Under the leaves and cool flowers
The wind brought to me the sound of a flute
From far away.
I cut a branch of willow
And answered with a lazy song.
Even at night, when all slept,
The birds were listening to a conversation
In their own language.17

Both poems make references to willow branches. In the poem by Li Po,

the reference is to the song “Breaking a Willow-Branch,” a northern Yuefu
ballad sung by a girl from a nomadic tribe in China about her loneliness as
her male friend leaves by horseback. A willow branch was often used like
a whip by some traveling horsemen, as the following several verses from
the song suggest:
Mounting your horse, you did not take your whip,
Instead you broke a branch from the willow-tree.
Walking and sitting I played on my flute,
Its sadness would break any traveler’s heart.
Deep down within me I was miserable,
Oh! how I wished that I could be your whip!
Coming and going, I’d be worn at your wrist,
Journeying and halting to rest upon your knee.18
 Flu t es a n d Nat u r e 99

In Gaultier’s poem, however, the actor makes a flute or whistle from a wil-
low branch with which she converses with the birds throughout the evening.
Wind and willows, both natural elements in nature, are metaphors for
loneliness and longing in the above poems, in which flutes are the vehicles
that transmit those emotions. The wind is especially important because it
is able to carry the lonely sounds of the flute.
In other instances, the wind is the bearer of creativity as in the follow-
ing Pawnee story: Two Pawnee hunters sat on a cliff waiting for antelope
to pass through the valley below. One man played a beautiful song on his
flute. Impressed with the song, the other hunter asked the flutist when he
composed it. The flutist replied, “Didn’t you hear it in the wind?”19

In the next chapter, powerful flute-playing humans-cum-gods (and/or god-

desses) are portrayed as culture heroes and heroines—musicians with great
powers that are attributed to the musicians’ magical flutes and flute-playing
skills. This chapter has shown how Oséema is a powerful flute-playing
culture hero of the Yupa. Indeed, many of the flute players throughout
this book could be called flute-playing culture heroes because flutes almost
always pertain to power; many humans and nonhumans achieve power
through their flutes and flute playing.
Story 8

The Fluteplayer
China

It once happened, in days long since past, that a young daughter was born to
a Prince of Tsin. And when she was born a rock was brought to the prince
that, when it was split open, disclosed a lump of green jadestone. When the
little daughter’s first birthday came around, a table laden with a great variety
of gifts, including the precious jade-stone, had been prepared for the child;
but the stone was the only thing that she would take from the table, and
the only thing with which she would play. And since she would not allow
it to leave her hands, she was named “Toys-with-Jewels.” As she grew up,
she became lovelier in face and in form than any other maiden and proved
to be greatly gifted. Since she played beautifully upon the syrinx [pai xiao
or pai hsiao, a panpipe] and understood how to compose melodies without
ever having taken a lesson, the Prince of Tsin had the most skilled of all
his artisans carve a syrinx out of the green jade-stone. When the maiden
blew it, it sounded like the singing of the phoenix; and therefore the prince
honored and loved the child and had a palace many stories in height built,
wherein to guard her. This palace was called the Phoenix Palace, and the
high tower that rose before it was known as the Phoenix Tower. When Toys-
with-Jewels was fifteen years of age, the Prince of Tsin thought of finding
her a husband. But Toys-with-Jewels entreated him and said, “Let it be no
other man but one who knows how to blow the syrinx sweetly, so that his
playing and mine may sound together. Such a one I would take, but another
I should not care to have.” The prince had his people seek everywhere for
a player on the syrinx but without success.
Now one day, it chanced that Toys-with-Jewels was in her palace. She

From Frederick H. Martens, “Music in Chinese Fairytale and Legend,” Musical

Quarterly 8, no. 4 (1922).
 T h e Flu t epl ay er 101

rolled back her curtains and saw the heavens were clear and cloudless and
the moonlight as radiant as a mirror. She commanded her maids to light
the incense, took up her green jade syrinx, and, seated at the window,
commenced to play. The tones of her melody were so clear and high that it
seemed as though they must have been heard in the very heavens. A faint
breeze stirred continuously, and suddenly it seemed as though someone
without were accompanying her melodies; now near, now far it sounded,
and secretly aroused Toys-with-Jewels’s astonishment. When she ceased
blowing, the music of her unknown partner stopped as well; only its over-
tones trembled for a moment in soft echoes on the air. Toys-with-Jewels
stood for a moment at the window, and a sadness as though she mourned
for something she had lost overcame her. Thus she stared out of the window
until midnight, when the moon had gone down, and the incense had burned
out. Then she laid the syrinx in her bed and reluctantly went to sleep.
And while she slept, she dreamed that the gate of the South-Western
Heavens opened wide and that a cloud-radiance of five colors, glowing and
shining like the day, streamed forth from it. And a handsome youth, with
a headdress of stork feathers, came riding down from the heavens on a
phoenix, stood before the Phoenix Tower and said to her, “I am the spirit of
the Taihua Mountains and am your destined husband. On the Day of Mid-
Autumn we shall meet again.” Then he said not another word but drawing
a flute of some red precious stone from the girdle about his hips, leaned
against the balcony and began to play. Then the bright-colored phoenix
beat his wings and danced, and the singing of the phoenix and the tones of
the flute sounded together in harmony through all the heights and depths;
sweetly their sound fell upon the ear and filled it with an entrancing echo.
The soul and the thoughts of Toys-with-Jewels became confused. “What
is this melody called?” she asked. “It is the first movement of the melody
of the Taihua Mountains,” replied the handsome youth. “Is it possible to
learn it?” again asked Toys-with-Jewels. “Are you not already my promised
wife? Why should I not be able to teach it to you?” said the youth. He went
toward her and took her hand. This so terrified the maiden that she awoke,
her eyes still filled with her dream.
When the day had dawned, she told her dream to the prince, and the
prince repeated it to his minister Meng Ming and sent the latter out to the
Taihua Mountains to investigate the matter. There a village elder told Meng
Ming what follows: “Since the middle of July a strange person has appeared
in this neighborhood. He has woven a hut of reeds for himself on the spar-
kling hill of stars and lives there quite alone. Every day he is accustomed to
102 Story 8

descend in order to buy wine, which he drinks in solitude. And he plays his
flute without interruption until evening. Its tones can be heard throughout
the whole region. Whoever hears them forgets all weariness. Whence the
stranger comes none of us knows.”
Then Meng Ming began to climb the mountains, but when he had reached
the sparkling hill of stars, he really saw a man who wore a headdress of
stork’s feathers. His face appeared to be carved from a precious stone, his
lips were red, and the expression of his countenance so free and so celestially
happy that he seemed to be living in a world beyond that of man. Meng
Ming at once suspected that this was anything but an ordinary human be-
ing. He bowed and asked his name. “My father’s name is Schao,” replied
the youth, “and my given name is Sche. Who are you? And why do you
come here?” “I am the minister of this land,” replied Meng Ming. “My lord
and master is about to seek a husband for his daughter. Since she blows the
syrinx with great art, he will take none other for son-in-law but one who
is able to play together with her. Now the prince had heard that you were
deeply versed in music and has been thirsting to look upon you. Hence he
sent me out to take you to him.” Said the youth, “I hardly know anything
about the various tonalities, and aside from this negligible flute-playing, I
have no art. I do not dare to follow your command.” “Let us seek my master
together,” replied Meng Ming, “and then all will be made clear.”
So Meng Ming took him back with him in his carriage, first made his
report, and then led Schao Sche before the prince that he might pay homage
to him. The prince sat in the Phoenix Tower, and Schao Sche cast himself
down before him and said, “I am a subject from the countryside and from
the hills, and an altogether ignorant man. I know nothing of court ceremo-
nies and beg that you will treat me mercifully and forgive me.” The Prince
of Tsin studied Schao Sche and noticed the free and happy expression of
his countenance, which seemed truly celestial. And he took a lively pleasure
in the arrival of the stranger, had him seat himself beside him, and asked,
“I hear that you know how to play the flute admirably. Can you also blow
the syrinx?” “I can play the flute but not the syrinx,” replied Schao Sche. “I
had been looking for a man who could play the syrinx, but the flute is not
the same thing.” Turning to Meng Ming, he added, “He is no partner for
my daughter,” and commanded that he be led away. Then Toys-with-Jewels
sent a serving maid to the prince with the message: “Flute and syrinx—both
obey the same law of music. If your guest can play the flute so admirably,
why not let him show his art?”
The Prince of Tsin took her advice and ordered Schao Sche to play. Schao
 T h e Flu t epl ay er 103

Sche took up his flute, made of a crimson precious stone: The jewel was
radiant and oily, its crimson gleam was mirrored in the eyes of those present.
It was truly a rare treasure. Schao Sche played the first movement: Slowly a
clear wind arose. At the second movement, colored clouds came flying from
all four points of the heavens; when he played the third, white storks could
be seen dancing opposite each other in the skies. Peacocks sat in pairs in
the trees, hundreds of birds of different kinds accompanied his music with
the harmony of their songs, until, after a time, they dispersed.
The Prince of Tsin was highly delighted. In the meantime, Toys-with-
Jewels had witnessed the whole miracle from behind a curtain and said,
“In truth, this is he who ought to play with me.” The Prince asked Schao
Sche, “What is the origin and the difference between flute and syrinx?” “In
the beginning,” replied Schao Sche, “the syrinx was invented. But then men
found that greater simplicity was possible, and out of the pipe of four reeds
they made the pipe of one reed, the flute.” “And how is it,” again asked
the Prince of Tsin, “that you are able to lure the birds to you by means of
your playing?” “The tones of the flute resemble the song of the phoenix,”
returned Schao Sche. “The phoenix is the king of all the hundreds of spe-
cies of birds. Hence, they all believe that the phoenix is singing and hasten
up. Once, when the Emperor Sun discovered the mode Schao Schao, the
phoenix himself appeared. And if it is possible to lure the phoenix by means
of music, why not the other birds?” The Prince of Tsin noticed that the
speaker’s voice was full and sonorous, grew more and more content, and
said, “I have a favorite daughter whose name is Toys-with-Jewels. She has
so great an understanding of music that I would not willingly give her to a
deaf man. Hence, she shall be your wife.” Schao Sche’s face grew sober, he
bowed a number of times, and said, “I am a peasant from the mountains.
How might I venture to enter into a union with the noble princess?” “When
my daughter was but a child,” answered the prince, “she swore that none
other than a blower on the syrinx should be her husband. Your flute, how-
ever, penetrates heaven and earth and conquers every living creature: it is
better than the syrinx. Then, too, my daughter once dreamed a dream. This
is the Day of Mid-Autumn, and the will of heaven is plain. Hence, do not
refuse!” Then Schao Sche cast himself on the ground and spoke his thanks.
Now the prince wished his soothsayer to select an auspicious day for the
nuptials. But the soothsayer said, “This is the Mid-Autumn Day, no time is
more propitious. The moon shines full in the heavens, and all men on earth
breathe joyfully.” So the prince at once had a bath prepared and had Schao
Sche led to it that he might cleanse himself. And when he had changed his
104 Story 8

garments, he was taken to the Phoenix Castle, where he was united with
Toys-with-Jewels. The following day, the Prince appointed Schao Sche a
mandarin, but he paid no attention to his duties, for all his official rank, and
spent all his time in the Phoenix Castle. He ate no cooked food and only,
from time to time, drank a few goblets of wine. Toys-with-Jewels learned
from him his secret of breathing, so that in the end she, too, was able to
live without food. In addition, he taught her a melody by means of which
one could lure the phoenix.
Half a year had gone by when, one night, the pair were playing together
in the moonlight. Suddenly, there appeared a violet-colored phoenix, who
stationed himself to the left of the Phoenix Tower, and a crimson dragon,
who uncoiled himself at its right. Then Schao Sche said, “In the upper world
I was a spirit. Then the Ruler of the Heavens sent me down, when the books
of history had become disordered, so that I might order them. Thus, in the
seventeenth year of the reign of the Emperor Djou Schuan-Wang on earth,
I was born as a son into the family Schao. Up to the death of Schuan-Wang,
the historiographers were incapable. But I arranged the books of history
from the beginning to the end of the period and ordered them so that they
might be continued. And because of my labors with the history books, the
people called me Schao Sche. But all this happened more than a hundred
years ago. The Ruler of the Heavens commanded me to rule in the Hua
Hills as a mountain spirit. Yet, since this marriage with you was already
predestined, he brought us together by means of the tones of the flute.
“Now, however, we may no longer remain here on earth, for dragon and
phoenix have come to bear us away. We must depart.” Toys-with-Jewels first
wished to bid her father farewell, but Schao Sche said, “No, those who wish
to become spirits must turn away their thoughts from all that is earthly.
How could you then still cling to a relative?” So Schao Sche mounted the
crimson dragon and Toys-with-Jewels the violet phoenix, and they rode
away from the Phoenix Tower through the clouds. And that same night,
the phoenix was heard to sing in the mountains of Taihua.
When the maid of the princess reported what had happened to the Prince
of Tsin the following morning, he first lost all power of speech. And at last
he wailed, “So it is true that such happenings as this, with spirits and genies,
really take place? If a dragon or phoenix were to come this moment to carry
me off, I would leave my land with as little regret as I would fling away an
old shoe.” He sent out many men into the Taihua Mountains to look for the
two musicians. But they had disappeared for good and all and were never
seen or heard of again.
Ch a p t er 8

Flute Origin Myths

and Flute-Playing Heroes

In story 8, “The Fluteplayer,” Schao Sche is a spirit being who took human
form, as he said: “In the upper world I was a spirit. Then the Ruler of the
Heavens sent me down. . . . The Ruler of the Heavens commanded me to
rule in the Hua Hills as a mountain spirit.” Schao Sche was also predestined
to marry the beautiful mortal Toys-with-Jewels, who through her love be-
came immortal like her husband. Their love and marriage were “brought
. . . together by means of the tones of the flute”—both characters in this
lengthy story play flute-type instruments: Schao Sche, the male, plays a
tubular flute (probably the xiao, Olsen category 2) and Toys-with-Jewels,
plays a panpipe or “syrinx” (probably paixiao, Olsen category 5). Why do
these two extraordinary characters, a hero and heroine who become a god
and goddess, play flute-type instruments as part of their very being? The
reasons are clearly stated in the story. First, the sounds of the flutes, per-
haps because of their particular sonorities or timbres (“only its overtones
trembled for a moment in soft echoes on the air”), are able to penetrate
across great distances and into the very heavens (“the tones of her melody
were so clear and high that it seemed as though they must have been heard
in the very heavens”; “he plays his flute without interruption until evening
[and] its tones can be heard throughout the whole region”; and “Your flute
. . . penetrates heaven and earth”). Second, the flutes’ sounds have the power
to transfix and transform whoever and whatever hear them (“whoever hears
them forgets all weariness”; “[your flute] conquers every living creature”;
“Schao Sche played the first movement: slowly a clear wind arose. At the
second movement colored clouds came flying from all four points of the
heavens”; and “when he played the third [movement], white storks could
be seen dancing opposite each other in the skies. Peacocks sat in pairs in
the trees, hundreds of birds of different kinds accompanied his music with
106 Ch a p t er 8

the harmony of their songs, until, after a time, they dispersed”). Third, the
practical explanation for luring the birds is the power of the music itself
(“The tones of the flute resemble the song of the phoenix” and “he taught
her a melody by means of which one could lure the phoenix”). Fourth, one
of the secrets to the power of the flutes, enabling the flutists to do all these
marvelous things, is breath and breathing (“Toys-with-Jewels learned from
him his secret of breathing”). Indeed, without knowing the secret of breath
and breathing, there would be no sounds and no music at all. But more
than that, breath is the very essence of life, even more important than food
(“so that in the end she too was able to live without food”). Fifth is the
importance of the proper melody and the flute player’s ability to improvise:
([Toys-with-Jewels] “understood how to compose melodies without ever
having taken a lesson”). The story also indicates that the single-tubed flute
(perhaps a xiao) has more power than the multi-tubed panpipe, at least at
first. Toys-with-Jewels learns the secret of breathing and the proper melodies
from Schao Sche, and she becomes transformed into a goddess. Thus, her
panpipe and playing are the equal of her immortal husband’s flute and his
musicianship, as Toys-with-Jewels says: “Flute and syrinx—both obey the
same law of music.” She could have said, “Both are edge-type aerophones.”
In the following, shorter variant of the legend, the main characters are
Lung Yü and Hsiao Shih, both flute players—no distinction, however, is
made of the types of flutes they play:
Lung Yü, the beautiful daughter of the duke of Ch’in . . . was a talented flute
player. On one occasion as soon as she put her lips to the flute, the sound gen-
erated a whiff of cool breeze. As she continued playing, a rainbow rose over
the horizon. Then, a pair of fairy phoenixes arrived to listen. When Lung Yü
married Hsiao Shih, also a fine flute player, the duke built for them a pavilion,
called the Phoenix Pavilion. One day, they were seen ascending to heaven with a
Phoenix and their beautiful music has been heard echoing in the sky ever since.
This story so inspired Li Po that he wrote the poem “The Phoenix Terrace Song.”

Gone they are—he with his many-hued flute

To the heavens with welcoming green clouds.
The tunes still linger here, but she is absent
Leaving behind only the name of Lung Yü.1

While the breath of the flute players is not mentioned in this version of
the story, the power of breath is evident when Lung Yü puts her flute to
her mouth—suggesting that she blows into the flute—and a cool breeze is
generated. This could be interpreted as the breath of the god Hsiao Shih,
whom she marries and with whom she ascends to heaven on a phoenix.
 Flu t e Or igi n M y t hs a n d Flu t e-Pl ay i ng H eroes 107

As in every chapter of this book, flutes get much of their power from the
breath of their players, and that breath is transformed into whistle tones
that are manipulated by the player’s fingers or tongue to produce all sorts
of patterns of sound, from bird imitations to beautiful melodies and more.
In addition, flutes derive power from the “proper” culturally determined
materials used in their construction, from animal bones or rustic bamboo
to precious metals or stone, giving each instrument its desired tone quality
or voice. Whether used for meditation, fertility, courting, protection, or just
playing a melody, the sounds and music of flutes have the power to go be-
yond the mortal world into immortal realms. This spiritual nature of flutes
is like a thread that weaves through the fabric of world flutelore and flute
musical performance, and this chapter explores more stories and narratives
that bring out the spiritual connection of flutes and flute music, especially
as it relates to origin myths and heroes.

Supernatural Origins of Flutes

and Flute Compositions
Story 4, “Culture Heroes Discover the First Flutes” from the Wogeo people
of New Guinea, tells how two women, Malaun and Sinamo, discovered in a
dream how to make the first flutes. Such knowledge acquired from dreams
is considered to be supernatural knowledge according to many cultures. As
instructed in the dream, the two women selected two pieces of bamboo, cut
them to appropriate sizes, and bored a hole near one end of each tube. While
this flute construction knowledge does not seem supernatural because it is
nearly universal, the flutetale tells how “at once both instruments began pip-
ing of their own accord––something like a music box. Overjoyed, the women
took a drum and danced till they became exhausted. Then they stoppered
the hole and went off to the gardens [to work].” In other words, the flutes
played themselves. They continued to do so until a man removed the plugs
and blew in them, forever taking away the flutes’ supernatural power to
play themselves. These were flutes with supernatural origins, even though
they were constructed by two mortal women. One of the flutes’ supernatural
characteristics was that they could play themselves and did not need human
breath to sound until they were “defiled” by a man. In that story, which
is also another example of the reversal of social order,2 the supernatural
power of the flutes was derived from the spiritual knowledge the women
acquired in a dream. The man, and in reality, all men, did not know about
that power, and since the reversal of social order event when the men stole
the flutes from the women, that particular power was lost. Nevertheless,
108 Ch a p t er 8

the men realized that the flutes had a particular type of power,3 but it was
a different kind of power than the original power when the flutes played
themselves—the men had to work at making the sounds, while the women
did not because the origin of the flute sounds, like the flutes themselves,
was supernatural. This story presents an interesting and perhaps important
variant to the importance of breath because it emphasizes what could be
called “spirit breath.” Indeed, it was human breath—and more specifically,
male human breath—that defiled the flutes, making them difficult to play
after the men took them from the women.
In chapter 6, “Fish as Flutists, Flutes as Fish,” I discussed Basso’s work
with the Kalapalo and their culture hero myth known as “Kafunetiga Found
Musical Instruments” in which flutes-as-fish are actually flutes-as-fish-as-
supernatural beings from mythic times. While the context of that discussion
is animals as flutists, the topic also pertains to the subject of the present
chapter because of the pervading supernatural aspect of the Kalapalo flute-
cum-fish thematic motif; moreover, they are considered female supernatural
beings. The Nambikwara Amerindians of western Mato Grosso state in
Brazil also have ritual flutes that are conceived of as female supernatural
beings from mythic times, although they are also considered masculine
symbols. According to Macelo Fiorini, the Nambikwara believe their ritual
flutes to be the complete bodies of mythical sisters, including their mouths
and noses (the mouthpiece apparati), eyes (the finger holes), navels (notches
near the distal ends), and anuses (the distal ends). Moreover, the flute tubes
are the throats of the spirits, including their tracheae and esophagi, and a
performance of the ritual flutes is a metaphor for feeding the spirits.4
As with these ethnographic stories about the beliefs of the Kalapalo and
Nambikwara, similar attributes (but with fewer details) can be seen in many
of the flutetales presented in this book. Where there is supernatural power,
there is usually a supernatural origin of and power associated with the
material object—that is, the flute—that functions as the magical implement.
Musical sound—the musical composition itself—is another type of ma-
terial “object,” although it is a sonic rather than solid entity that can be
touched and held, unless it has been written down in some type of musical
notation. Probably most, if not all, of the musical pieces performed in flu-
telore do not exist in written form, however, because musical notation is a
highly specialized phenomenon that developed quite recently in just a few
of the world’s cultures. Many of the flute songs of magic and power, like
the flute stories of magic and power, are attributed to supernatural sources
and passed down through the generations as oral traditions.
One of the best known examples of supernatural intervention in the com-
position of flute music comes from thirteenth-century Japan as Yamamoto
 Flu t e Or igi n M y t hs a n d Flu t e-Pl ay i ng H eroes 109

Morihide recorded in a historical document Kyotaku Denki Kokujikai,

published in 1795 in Japan. The account is a history of the Fuke-shuˉ Bud-
dhist sect, the komusoˉ Buddhist priests, and an early type of shakuhachi
called kyotaku used for Zen meditation. One of the stories is about a
young kyotaku player named Kichiku who led a nomadic existence playing
kyotaku and begging in the streets in Japan’s Kinki region. While praying
at Kokuˉzuˉ-doˉ temple on Mount Asamagatake in Sei-shuˉ province (today
Ise province) on the Ise Peninsula, he dreamed he was looking at the full
moon while adrift and alone in a boat in the ocean; then suddenly, the
moon was blocked by a dense fog, and the tones of a flute could be heard.
The music disappeared as the fog increased and returned as the fog slowly
went away. Kichiku awoke, but the flute music was still in his mind. He
picked up his kyotaku and played the melodies he heard. He went to his
master, Gakushin, and related the dream to him. His master said the mu-
sic was a gift from the Buddha, and he named the supernaturally created
compositions “Mukaiji” (Flute in the foggy sea) and “Kokuˉji” (Flute in
the empty sky).5 Both pieces, even today, are among the most sacred and
profound compositions in the Zen shakuhachi repertoire from the Fuke
sect. “Mukaiji” and “Kokuˉji” were created through supernatural revelation
rather than human composition, although it could be argued that all great
compositions include supernatural revelation. Nevertheless, these pieces
and others in the shakuhachi repertoire known as honkyoku (“original
pieces”) have a profound mystery associated with them. They are in a way
programmatic, imitative, and suggestive to the extent that they evoke ex-
tramusical phenomena and concepts, such as fog and emptiness, the latter
being a major attribute of Zen Buddhism.

Supernatural Origin of Flutists and Flute Heroes

Several of the descriptions, narratives, and song texts presented and discussed
in this book are about gods who play flutes, namely Schao Sche, Kokopelli,
Krishna, and Han Xiang Zi, and goddesses, such as Toys-with-Jewels and
the nameless supernatural being who was forced to live for a while in the
mortal world of the Thompson Indians with a husband she never wanted.6
Perhaps more common are stories about flutists who are godlike, such as
the Yahuma culture hero Milomaki and the Japanese nobleman Fujiwara
no Yasumasa. Other flutists are princes, and a few are princesses—in both
categories they are godlike because of their powers and seeming immortal-
ity; at least, they appear to live forever in the stories.
While many of the flutists in world flutetales are folk heroes or culture
heroes, the terms should not be used interchangeably. The term “folk hero,”
110 Ch a p t er 8

for example, usually refers to a male individual who has supernaturally

magical encounters, often undertakes long voyages, becomes strong and
handsome, rises up from rags to riches, performs impossible tasks, defeats
evil creatures, is often protected by his flute or other magical objects, and
ends up marrying the most beautiful girl in the land. In the world of these
magical flutetales and folk heroes, all types of animals are anthropomor-
phized, so that reptiles, mammals, insects, and all types of creatures are able
to play flutes. Often, world flutetales about folk heroes are related to history
or relate to mythical times that may have been factual to some extent. The
term “culture hero,” on the other hand, refers to a similar individual, either
male or female, who may or may not have had similar adventures like a folk
hero but who is involved as a principal character in creation myths. Often,
however, the line of differentiation is slight. Perhaps because of that lack
of distinction, Géza Róheim suggests the term “flute heroes” for mythical
flutists with supernatural powers and often supernatural origins.7 However,
I prefer the term “flute-playing heroes” for those folk or culture heroes who
play flutes because their heroism or supernatural acts are only accompanied
or accomplished by their flute playing. Their heroism has nothing to do with
the origin or development of flutes.
Róheim writes about great musicians from the ancient Middle East, which
he calls “Son-Gods of the Orient”:
For further points of contact we shall turn to the Son-Gods of the Orient. We
know that Adonis the “Lord” meant the Babylonian Tamuz, and we ought to
add that the “Lord” was a Tamuz, one of the son-gods of primitive Semitic tribes.
But like the “great master” (Biamban) with the secret name of “Daramulun,”
which means “a musical instrument, the bull-roarer,” so Adonis the Phoenician
“Lord” was called Γίγγρς, a word which seems to have meant “flute” in the
Phoenician language. At Pergamon he was called Γίγγρς, a word that has been
derived from abub (ambub), the Semitic name of the flute.
Now, if we know anything about primitive tribes for certain it is this: a hero
who dies and is reborn, and who is identical with a musical instrument, is an
initiation spirit, the representative of the initiates.8

Although he does not elaborate on either death and rebirth or initiation

spirits, Róheim makes clear the high status of those “Lords” that he calls
the “Son-Gods of the Orient,” especially Adonis, whose name means “flute.”
He calls Adonis and others “flute-heroes” and explains that other “flute
heroes” are found among some South American Amerindians, as noted in
several preceding chapters.
In chapter 2, for example, is a story Felber and Baker collected in 1931
about the construction of a palm tree flute among the Yahuma of Brazil.
 Flu t e Or igi n M y t hs a n d Flu t e-Pl ay i ng H eroes 111

Róheim discussed the same story two years earlier in 1929, emphasizing the
young boy, Milomaki, as the culture hero of flutes and all fruit. In his rendi-
tion of the story, several variants are seen: “Many years ago, the Yahuma
tell us, there was a young boy called Milo-maki (maki = son), who sang
so beautifully that all the people came to listen to him. But those who had
heard him sing and then ate fish died instantly. So they decided to burn him,
and the Paxiuba palm grew from his ashes. Flutes are made from the wood
of this tree, and these repeat the beautiful songs of Milo-maki. When the
fruits are ripe these flutes are blown by the men in honor of Milo-maki the
creator of all fruit. This is the festival of Yurupary.”9 Although Róheim does
not elaborate upon it, he uses this story to emphasize his point that “a hero
who dies and is reborn, and who is identical with a musical instrument, is an
initiation spirit.” I would call this type of flute-playing hero a “culture hero”
because his magic has to do with a particular aspect of Yahuma creation,
instead of just the flute.
Perhaps the greatest flute-playing hero is Krishna, who, as chapter 5
describes, is a flute-playing god whose sweet fluting not only charms the
milk maids (gopıˉs) and other women but also other gods.10 Another great
flute-playing immortal hero is Han Xiang Zi (Han Hsiang Tzu), “True
Sage,” one of the Eight Immortals from the Chinese Tang Dynasty (a.d.
618–907). He plays his flute for healing because his flute gives life; in China,
Han Xiang Zi is known as a protector of flutists.11 As a mortal child, it is
believed that Han fell from a peach tree, and his mortal body died; thus,
“he was freed from the bonds of earthly existence (that is to say, became a
hsien).”12 As one of the Daoist Eight Immortals (pa-hsien), Han Xiang Zi
is a peaceful, mountain-dwelling, flower-loving philosopher with a “wild
and creative disposition” and magical attributes.13 Han is also referred to
as the “patron saint of musicians,” probably because he plays a number of
musical instruments besides the flute, such as castanets and a seven-stringed
zither called kin (erroneously called a “lute”), as mentioned in the following
poem that he extemporaneously spoke to his uncle in order to explain how
he differed from him:
In a cave mid mists and torrents by green-clad peaks I live;
I sip the dew at midnight that stars the earth like gems,
I make my food the rosy clouds that flush the coming dawn.
I play the Green Jade Melody upon a seven-stringed lute,
And melt in fiery alembics fine-powdered pearls and white;
Within my Precious Cauldron the Golden Tiger dwells;
I grow the Magic Fungus to feed the Snow-white Crows,
112 Ch a p t er 8

With Nature’s creative powers my bottle-gourd is stored,

I slay the evil demons with my magic three-foot blade;
Wine fills the empty goblet when I speak the wizard word,
And flowers spring up and bloom in the twinkling of an eye;
Show me the man who doth these things in the way that I have told,
And I will gladly talk with him of the hsien who ne’er grow old.14

Although Han Xiang Zi does not refer to his flute in these lines, he does
make reference to several other of his emblematic magical tools or pao pei,
such as zither (lute), cauldron, bottle-gourd, goblet, and sword (perhaps
this “magic three-foot blade” is a metaphor for his flute). These magical
attributes characterize his skills as an alchemist, musician, and a demon-
slaying healer. Most important, they define him as a very knowledgeable
and devoted Daoist, one who probably has read and studied the well-known
ancient treatise On Caring for the Health of the Mind and Prolonging the
Life Span, written in the fifth or sixth century by Tao Hongjing, a Daoist
scholar, mystic, and healer of the Maoshan sect. With his deep understanding
of Chinese medicine, Tao Hongjing wrote these words that could have had
a profound influence on Han Xiang Zi’s flute playing: “One has only one
way for inhalation but six for exhalation.”15 This statement can effectively
be applied to Han’s flute playing as an explanation for the importance of
breath in playing flute for healing. The six types of exhalation when applied
to flute playing would translate as six types of timbres or tone colors; the
result would be akin to the four levels of sound for “blowing the bamboo”
as Watazumi Doso Roshi espoused (see chapter 2): breathy sound, regular
sound, refined sound, and soundless sound. Flute music, as a highly special-
ized type of sonic phenomenon, embodies multiple tone colors through the
many variances of exhalation of the flutist’s breath that have almost unex-
plainable powers to heal, especially when those exhalations are produced
by immortals, such as Han Xiang Zi, Krishna, Kokopelli, and other gods.

In the next chapter, the protective powers of flutes are discussed. Protec-
tion is one of the important needs of a folk or culture hero because he is in
constant danger as he travels the world, encountering demons and other
adversaries that wish him harm. Story 9 is about Minamoto Yoshitsune, a
real person during Japan’s middle ages who was transformed into a type
of flute-playing hero.
Story 9

Yoshitsune’s Voyage
among the Islands
Japan

[The following story consists of excerpts from a medieval Japanese tale, “Yo-
shitsune’s Voyage among the Islands,” about the ocean travels and adventures
of Minamoto Yoshitsune, one of the leading figures in the wars between the
Taira and the Minamoto clans towards the end of the twelfth century. The
selected excerpts specifically show the protective power of Yoshitsune’s flute
playing as he encounters many dangerous sentient beings in strange lands.]

And so [Yoshitsune] rowed off in his ship, and after many days of travel, on
the seventy-second day he reached another island. Approaching the shore,
he saw a crowd of women coming up, led by some of about forty years
of age, though there were others of seventeen or eighteen. They swarmed
around him, calling out delightedly, “Oh, what luck! A protector for our
island has arrived,” and they made as if to attack him. “Good people of the
island,” he cried, “please listen to what I have to say,” but they paid no heed
to his words, jabbering to each other: “Ever since that time two or three
hundred years ago when three men came to our island from the Country
of Reed Plains and were seized and cut up to make protective talismans for
the people of the island, there has been prosperity here, and people have
had all they wanted. Gather round, everybody, and cut yourselves a piece
for a talisman.” And they came at him with their spears held across their
bodies. Yoshitsune felt that his last hour had come. “I beg you to spare me
awhile,” he cried, “I will play you a tune on my bamboo flute,” and, taking
out his flute Taitoˉmaru, he bedewed the eight holes with his breath, playing
in the mode appropriate to the season, the Ojiki mode. “What a pleasing

D. E. Mills, “Medieval Japanese Tales: Part II,” Folklore 84, no. 1 (1973): 74.
Originally published in the early 1700s in a collection of medieval Japanese folk-
tales. Reprinted here by permission of the Folklore Society.
114 Story 9

sound!” the women exclaimed when they heard him. “Young man, however
much we should like to make you into talismans to protect our island, we
find your flute-playing so pleasing that we shall spare your life for the time
being.” And casting away their spears, they listened to him playing his flute.

[. . .]
One day followed another until on the ninety-fifth day he again arrived at
a strange island. Now as he brought his boat in to the shore, he saw com-
ing towards him a group of some twenty to thirty people, those at the head
about forty years of age. When they caught sight of Yoshitsune, they clapped
their hands, and exclaiming, “Here’s a piece of luck!” they surrounded him,
clutching sticks and poisoned arrows. Poor Yoshitsune realized that his life
was in grave danger, and thought dejectedly that it must be through the
karma of some previous life that he was about to suffer such a sad fate. But
then, taking heart, he said to the islanders, “I beg you to spare me awhile.
I will play you a tune on my bamboo flute,” which calmed them a little.
Taking advantage of this, he took out Taitoˉmaru and, tuning it with all the
care he could command, he began to play the piece called “Music of Ten
Thousand Autumns.” The moment they heard his flute-playing, the islanders
were fascinated and urged him to go on, falling quiet and listening to him.

[. . .]
The oarsmen bent once again to their oars, and the ship sailed on before the
wind until, despite the great distance that they had to travel, the effect of the
prayers became apparent and they reached the fabled capital of Chishima.
When they saw the Great King’s palace, they found it beyond all imagining
or description, towering three leagues above the ground and surrounded by
an iron wall eight hundred feet high atop which was stretched a net of iron
and in which was set an iron gateway. By the gate stood a swarm of de-
mons—bull-headed and horse-headed jailers from Hell, and other monstrous
creatures—who, the moment they caught sight of Yoshitsune, clapped their
hands and crowded about him, shouting, “What a piece of luck! Let’s eat
him up!” He saw that they were about one hundred feet tall. Each had twelve
horns, and as they breathed they gave out clouds of mist, so that it became
as dark as night. “If we were in Japan,” thought Yoshitsune, “ten thousand
or more horsemen could come at me and I should not turn a hair, but here in
this place, what is there I can do?” And though he racked his brains, not one
thing could he think of to do. “At least I will play one last tune,” he thought,
and begging them to wait for a while, he produced his flute Taitoˉmaru and
 Yoshi tsu n e’s Voyage A mong t h e Isl a n ds 115

bedewing the eight holes of the instrument with his breath he tuned it in a
manner appropriate to the season, then, convinced that he was playing for
the last time, he played “Longing for a Beloved Husband” and “The Music
of Ten Thousand Autumns” and “The Willows in Spring” and “The Midnight
Music” and other pieces one after another. The demons were so enchanted
by his playing that, though they were longing to eat him up, they spared
him and stood with bated breath to hear him playing, with the result that
the sky once again became clear. Finding that for a while he had managed to
escape death, Yoshitsune continued to play on and on for dear life, and the
demons enjoyed it so much that they said they would like to try and learn
to play themselves. Fetching stems of bamboo, they made holes in them and
tried to play tunes, but they could not produce a sound, and so they settled
down quietly to listen to him, saying that nothing could be more enjoyable
than this young man’s flute-playing. One of them now said, “Something as
delightful to listen to as this we ought not to keep to ourselves. Let us tell the
King about it.” They all agreed, and at once someone went to tell His Majesty.
When the King heard what they had to say, he wanted to investigate the
new arrival for himself, and summoned him to a veranda over one hun-
dred and fifty yards long. Yoshitsune presented himself, and when the King
emerged to meet him, found that he was over one hundred and fifty feet tall,
dressed in robes of various colors. He had eight arms and legs and thirty
horns, and his voice when he called could be heard from one hundred leagues
away. Yoshitsune felt faint with terror. Glaring at him with his great eyes,
the King said, “Are you the young man who has come from the Country of
Reed Plains, Japan?” and his eyes flashed bright as the evening sun. “They
tell me you play tunes on a tube of bamboo or something,” he said. “Play a
tune now for me to hear.” He was most horrible to look at, but Yoshitsune
was prepared for the sight, and producing his flute Taitoˉmaru, he took it out
of its brocade bag, tuned it carefully, and playing for his very life, performed
a number of famous Indian pieces, which he chose especially from all the
great variety of music that there was. The King listened intently and with
extreme enjoyment. “Well, how marvelously you play that instrument,” he
said. “I’m delighted that you have come here, young man.”

[. . .]
Sitting alone on the veranda, Yoshitsune was at a loss what to do, but just
then the King ordered a demon attendant to go and see where the young man
was. The demon came to have a look, and finding the young man was still
in the same place as before, stared at him and went back inside. When the
116 Story 9

King was informed, he thought it strange, and decided to go out and offer
the young man some wine and get him to play the flute. “This time,” he said,
“I think I will go out in some other shape,” and he made his appearance,
accompanied by some thousand of his demon minions, in the costume of
a man about forty; smartly dressed in court cap and robes, he sat on three
layers of cushion, squatting in a formal posture right in the centre. As he
called Yoshitsune over to sit on his left hand, he looked completely differ-
ent from before. He began pouring wine. “Play your flute, young man,” he
ordered, and pulling out Taitoˉmaru, Yoshitsune played the piece “Passing
the Winecups,” whereupon the King said, “I like that, young man, that piece
about passing the winecups round. All right, let us do it.” And soon, as the
talk went back and forth, a drinking-party was under way. Suddenly the
King picked up his fan and lifted a brocade curtain. “Princess Asahi,” he
called, “are you listening? The music that this young man from the Country
of Reed Plains is playing is so delightful that you must come and hear him.”
When the Princess heard these words, she was at first reluctant to join the
party, but since it was her father’s command that she should appear, she
made up her mind to do so. She was wearing full court dress, robes dyed
cherry-pink, or white with a crimson lining, or orange lined with yellow,
and so on—twelve robes in all. As she came out, accompanied by her twelve
ladies-in-waiting, from behind her seven-fold screens and her eight-fold
curtains and her nine-fold hangings, she presented a sight so beautiful that
it could only be compared to the pale light of a full moon emerging from
behind the mountains, or perhaps she suggested double cherry-blossoms
within a garden fence, or the plum blossom on Ta Yii Peak. She took up her
seat on the right hand of her father, the King, a vision of beauty as won-
derful as any Buddha. The moment he saw her Yoshitsune fell desperately
in love with her and felt that he would willingly die for just one night of
intimacy that would be the most memorable time of his life. And so, of all
the many pieces for the flute, he chose the one called “Longing for a Beloved
Husband,” which tells of the love of a man for a woman and a woman for
a man. The Princess listened intently, enchanted to find this young man so
attracted to her. “Ever since my daughter lost her mother in the third month
of last year,” said the King, “we have been unable to console her. You must
play to her on your flute.” The wine-drinking came to an end and the King
left the room, accompanied by the Princess. Yoshitsune longingly followed
her out, and though it did not happen as soon as he had hoped, she too, as
the days went by, not being made of wood or stone, yielded to love of him,
and they opened their hearts to each other with pledges of undying love.
Ch a p t er 9

Flutes and Protective Power

Just as many of the flutelore examples from around the world seem to pertain
to the spirit world, even though I have discussed them within other catego-
ries, so, too, many of them are also about protective power. Both the above
story 9 and the Japanese folktale given below, for example, are about flutes
and protective power, as are some of the folktales about flutes and animals.
Protection, as suggested by folklore/mythology, is often “magical” because
it usually involves powers that are greater than normal powers—these could
be called “supernatural” or “supranatural” powers. While man’s brain and/
or brawn, that is, his wit and/or muscle, sometimes provide protection for
himself and/or others, and sometimes flutes can be used as weapons,1 flu-
teloric protection appears to be mostly magical, although some flutetales
emphasize the beauty of the flute music in itself. In other words, either the
flute or flute music conjures up some type of divine help to ward off danger
or evil powers, or the sweet sound of the flute and its music themselves
soothe the savage beast or dangerous human beings. In the former, the
danger is mostly supernatural; in the latter, it is mostly natural. However,
as the flutetales in this chapter suggest, a distinction between magical and
aesthetic, or supernatural and natural, cannot always easily be made. It may
be that what I call “magical protection,” then, is also “aesthetic protection.”
Nevertheless, I discuss both categories, “magical protection” and “aesthetic
protection,” because the anonymous authors of many of the stories seem to
suggest that it is the “beauty” of the flute sound that provides protection
more than the metaphysical qualities of that sound. In addition, I discuss
a third category, “practical protection,” in which flute sounds and music
are like alarms or signals, and a fourth category, “physical protection,” in
which a flute hides a man from his wife’s ghost.
118 Ch a p t er 9

Magical Protection
I place the following Warao flutetale within the category of “magical pro-
tection,” although another category could perhaps be used because of the
jaguar’s seemingly dislike of the flute’s sound: “inaesthetic (or unaesthetic)
protection.”
Rather than simply going away, a jaguar—which is actually a man trans-
formed into a jaguar—in the following Warao folktale from Venezuela seems
to react adversely to the music of a bamboo flute. In “The One Who Turned
into a Jaguar,” a woman plays a bamboo flute and sings for magical protec-
tion against the jaguar/man, according to the following excerpt:
He had transformed himself into a jaguar and she was alone because he had
become angry. She walked alone through the forest . . . and as she walked she
heard something running and coming nearer and nearer. As it became dark,
she saw an empty house. She lit a large fire, hung her children’s hammocks up
high, and sat down beneath them. That which had been running nearby was
a transformed jaguar.
He [the man transformed into a jaguar] had collected a lot of bamboo and
threw it down, “Kerplum.” When it became dark he lapped up some water with
his tongue, “Beh, beh.” After having built up the fire, the boys began to dance.
She herself played the flute made of bamboo, “Tea, tea, tea, tail of a jaguar,”
she said.
The jaguar rushed towards the woman, but she grabbed a piece of firewood
and stuck him in the eye. The jaguar stopped. Again, in the dancing place, she
took the bamboo flute and played, “Tea, tea, tea, tail of a jaguar. Tea, tea, tea,
tail of a jaguar.” Again, the jaguar rushed toward the seated woman. Again, she
stuck a piece of firewood into his eye. He stopped and sat down in the middle
of the dancing place. The woman sat down in the middle of the dancing place.
The woman sat down again after having hoisted the hammocks of the children
high up under the roof. Again she picked up the bamboo [flute] and played,
“Tea, tea, tea, tail of a jaguar. Tea, tea, tea, tail of a jaguar.” The jaguar dashed
at her again. Again, she stuck him with a lighted firebrand into the eye. He
stopped. Then he sat down again in the dancing area.
By dawn, he could take no more. He sat with his back to them. The woman’s
little brother arrived with arrows and spear. “Sister, you all survived the night?”2

While this is perhaps an example of a “piece of firewood” as magical protec-

tion, the story also suggests that the flute music causes the jaguar to attack
her, whereupon she actually stops it by sticking a piece of firewood into its
eye. It also suggests that the flute itself talks or sings words, although we
have no explanation what the words mean (see chapter 3). Somehow, she
“survived the night,” either with her magical bamboo flute that speaks, a
 Flu t es a n d Prot ec t i v e Pow er 119

burning piece of wood, or both. Because women do not play flutes today
among the Warao, this folktale also suggests a reversal of the social order,
when a musical instrument at one time was the domain of one gender but
then switched at some point (see chapter 4). Whatever the moral of this story
is, it seems there is some type of magic provided by the flute music, causing
the jaguar to attack, whereupon the animal/man is physically stopped by
a piece of firewood.
Korea has many flutetales about magical protection. One popular story
is “The Woodcutter and the Dancing Tiger,” in which music played on a
bamboo flute causes a tiger to dance and, in turn, causes a woodcutter’s life
to be spared:
Many years ago there was a woodcutter who carried a bamboo flute wherever
he went. He would play it when taking a break from chopping wood, when
walking to and from home, or whenever he had a free moment. Children
would gather around him and sing and dance as he played. Even birds seemed
charmed by his music.
One day the woodcutter went very deep into the forest to cut wood. He was
surprised by a rustling sound and looked up just in time to see a huge tiger
coming toward him. With great speed he scrambled up the nearest tree.
The tiger started up the tree after him but the trunk was too slippery for him
to climb. He tried over and over but slid down each time. He sat at the bottom
of the tree for a while and then loped off into the forest.
The woodcutter breathed a sigh of relief but his legs were so shaky that he
could not climb down. Just when he finally felt calm enough to try, five or six
tigers appeared at the bottom of the tree.
The woodcutter watched in horror as they climbed one on top of another
in an attempt to reach him. “It looks like I’m doomed to die so I might as well
enjoy myself one last time,” he told himself, pulling out his flute. Ppillili, ppillili
. . . he began to play.
Fortunately for the woodcutter, the tiger at the bottom of the pile had recently
eaten a shaman. And, because shamans usually dance when they hear music, he
[the tiger] began to dance, making it difficult for the other tigers to keep their
balance.
With a loud thump the top tiger fell down on the rocky ground. But the tiger
kept dancing. One after another they fell down, until all but the dancing tiger
lay unconscious on the ground.
Seeing this the woodcutter played even more fervently until the tiger was
dancing around like crazy. Slowly the woodcutter climbed down out of the tree
and slipped away into the forest.3

In this narrative, the tiger at the bottom of the stack could not resist dancing
because the shaman in its belly, which the tiger had recently eaten, began to
120 Ch a p t er 9

dance to the woodcutter’s flute music. In a variant of this tale, however, one
of the tigers cannot resist dancing to the woodcutter’s flute music because
“[t]he tiger on the bottom happened to be very musical and loved to dance
to music. He swayed and pranced to the rhythm.” For whatever reason, the
tiger had to dance—it was a magical act, although the variant tale could
be interpreted as an aesthetic act, even though tigers don’t usually dance to
flute music on their own accord.
A similar story Charles Keil relates from the Tiv of Nigeria, as he para-
phrases a common tale:
[A] small boy returning home with his parents from a distant farm suddenly
remembers the flute he left behind. Against his parents’ wishes he goes back
to fetch it. They caution him to stay on the “dirty and thorny road” and avoid
the clear wide path of the supernaturals, but [with his] flute safely in hand, he
takes the neat path home and is soon confronted consecutively by the Hand,
Head, Thigh, Chest, and Intestines, who view him as meat for their stew. He
postpones his capture by fluting a song so that each body part dances to exhaus-
tion. Eventually they recuperate and give chase until finally the Head (or in some
versions a finger of the Hand) descends upon him as he enters the compound,
gouging his back, hence the hollow of the back or the backline (in one version
the backbone) all humans have today.

Keil writes that some versions of this folktale give the following moral to
the story: “Advice is second mother to a child.”4 It is significant in this story
that the flute music causes the malevolent entities to dance until they are
exhausted, thus allowing the flutist to escape their harmful intentions to
eat him. Dancing to exhaustion seems to be a common theme of magical
protective fluting.
Another Korean narrative titled “A Black Jade Belt and the Flute to Calm
Ten Thousand Waves” describes a less-vigorous method of magical protec-
tion with a flute, as the following excerpt makes clear:
As soon as he returned to the palace, the king ordered a flute to be made out of
the bamboo and keep it in Ch’onjongo, a national treasure vault, in Wolsong. As
expected, the flute showed its magical power. While the flute was being played,
attacking enemies withdrew themselves, sick people got cured mysteriously,
sweet rains came after a long drought, the bright sun shone in the downpour,
the wind went down, and the sea grew calm. For its magical power, the flute
was called “Manp’a Sikchŏk” (the Flute to Calm Ten Thousand Waves).
The people of Shilla prized it as a national treasure that had been handed
down from generation to generation. As rumors got started about it, people of
the neighboring countries envied Shilla for the magical flute. As a result, enemy
countries that were watching for a chance didn’t dare to launch an attack on
Shilla for fear of the divine power of its flute.
 Flu t es a n d Prot ec t i v e Pow er 121

During the reign of King Hyoso (the son of King Sinmun), the flute suddenly
disappeared without leaving a trace behind. It was later rediscovered when
Puryerang with the title of Kuksŏn (the Order of Hwarang, literally, “Flower
Youth”) and Ansang, who had been taken hostage by northern barbarians,
returned to their home country, Shilla, crossing the sea riding together on the
flute. Therefore, the flute was renamed “Manmanp’ap’a Sikchŏk” (the Flute to
Calm One Hundred Thousand Waves).
At that time, a comet suddenly appeared in the sky, and the flute disappeared.
It is not known exactly until what time . . . the flute continued to be handed
down to the following generations.5

So powerful were this flute and its harmonious sound, apparently, that
they not only provided magical protection to calm one-hundred thousand
waves but also made attacking enemies retreat, cured the infirm, provided
rain when needed even though the sun remained shining, stopped the wind,
and calmed the sea.
The Korean poem “Autumn Streams Are Sky-Blue,” written by King Sook-
jong, the late-seventeenth–early-eighteenth-century sovereign, also mentions
the harmonious sounds of a flute (and a drum) that calm ten thousand waves:
Autumn streams are blue as any sky,
Dragon boats float softly on the crest.
Flute and drum’s harmonious sound
calm ten thousand waves within my breast.
We too, with all our people, never cease
rejoicing in eternal peace.6

While not “one-hundred thousand waves” as in the above Korean story, the
“ten thousand waves” in this poem, however, are within King Sookjong’s
breast. As a metaphor for inner turmoil, perhaps, rather than a natural
disaster, the flute and drum together offer a harmonious calming and pro-
tective effect.
Perhaps the best-known use of a flute for magical protection, at least in
European music, occurs in Mozart’s opera Die Zauberflöte (The magic flute).
While Tamino’s flute has already been mentioned with regard to making
the wild animals dance and rest at his feet while he plays his flute in act 1,
which is certainly a type of magical protection (see chapter 6), it is in act
2 where Tamino escapes even greater danger than wild animals when he
and his beloved Pamina, “protected by the tones of the magic flute, walk
unharmed through fire and water in the final acts of purification” during
their initiation into Freemasonry.7
The magical protective powers of Tamino’s golden flute are described in
the following song text excerpt of the libretto from act 1, scene 8, featuring
122 Ch a p t er 9

three Ladies who are the emissaries of the Queen of the Night, Papageno,
and Tamino (my translation):
First Lady
(She gives Tamino a golden flute)
O Prince, take this gift from me!
Our Queen sends it to you.
The magic flute will protect
and support you during the worst kind of bad luck.
The Three Ladies
Herewith you can act all powerful and
transform the passions of mankind:
the sad will be joyful,
the confirmed bachelor falls in love.
All Five [The Three Ladies, Papageno, and Tamino]
Oh, such a flute is worth more
than gold and crowns,
because it will increase human happiness
and satisfaction.8

This is the point early in the opera when Tamino is given the magic flute by
the three ladies-in-waiting. As a gift from the sovereign Queen of the Night,
the golden flute has unsurpassable magical powers. It is significant in these
lyrics that the protection is provided by the magic flute itself, rather than
the flute music. How those powers were created and function, however,
is neither explained nor questioned. Such is the nature of mythology and
opera libretti; that is how it is.
Ethnography, history, and oral tradition in South America tell us that in
ancient times, musical instruments were made from the bones and skins of
enemies, and playing on them provided entire armies with magical protec-
tion over future enemy armies who were related to the unwilling body-part
donors. These are examples of sympathetic magical protection, whereby a
musical instrument’s protective or destructive power against an animal, a
person, or an entire army is derived from the physical material used for its
construction, providing that material had previously been in contact with
the object(s) to be protected against or destroyed. Father Bernabé Cobo,
a Spanish chronicler during the Peruvian colonial period, wrote in about
1650 that Tupac Inca Yupanqui, the tenth Inca king, “had the two main
caciques [chiefs] skinned, and he ordered two drums to be made from their
hides. With these drums and with the heads of the executed caciques placed
 Flu t es a n d Prot ec t i v e Pow er 123

on pikes, and with many prisoners to be sacrificed to the Sun, the Inca re-
turned in triumph to his court, where he celebrated his victories with great
sacrifices and fiestas.”9 Likewise, the Incas made flutes from enemy human
tibias, which gave them sympathetic magical protective power over their
enemies, providing the enemies were related to the owners of the bones
used for flutes.10 Rafael Karsten explains why such sympathetic magic has
power over one’s enemies: “To make magical instruments of vital parts of
an enemy’s body is to give him up to the most cruel lot, to annihilate him
as an independent being, to render his future rebirth impossible.”11
The theme of story 2, “The Turtle, the Monkey, and the Jaguar,” from the
Apinayé (Gê) culture of Brazil, could also be interpreted as an example of
sympathetic magical protection because it is about the making and playing
of a flute by the hero, a turtle, from the leg bone of its enemy, a jaguar. The
turtle, “resigned to his fate,” plays his flute as a last resort before certain
death, turning a potential disastrous event into one of survival.

Aesthetical Protection
The protection provided to Yoshitsune in story 9, when he plays his flute,
can be interpreted as aesthetical protection, as the following exclamatory
excerpts suggest:
“What a pleasing sound!” the women exclaimed when they heard him.
The moment they heard his flute-playing, the islanders were fascinated and
urged him to go on, falling quiet and listening to him.
The demons were so enchanted by his playing that, though they were longing to
eat him up, they spared him and stood with bated breath to hear him playing.
[T]hey settled down quietly to listen to him, saying that nothing could be more
enjoyable than this young man’s flute-playing.
The King listened intently and with extreme enjoyment. “Well, how marvelously
you play that instrument,” he said.

However, Yoshitsune’s flute playing is occasionally referred to as “enchant-

ing,” and the listeners are “fascinated” by the sound. Both terms suggest
magic as well as aesthetic beauty.
In the following Japanese folktale, “The Snake Charmer,” from an anony-
mous publication, Jikkinshoˉ, “Ten Moral Teachings,” and dated a.d. 1252,
the protection also seems to be derived from the aesthetic beauty of the flute
music itself, as the snake simply slithers away when it hears the flute. The
only human character in the story is a flute player and custodian named
124 Ch a p t er 9

Sikemitsu who was put in prison because he did not properly guard the
storehouse of his noble master, the Minister of the Left. While in his prison
cell, Sikemitsu, who was deathly afraid of creepy creatures that usually
inhabit dark and damp places like prison cells, was confronted by a very
large snake with a lion’s head, eyes the size of bronze bowls, and a three-
foot-long tongue. As the snake opened its huge mouth, bared its long fangs,
and prepared its strike, Sikemitsu was about ready to drop dead with fear
when he quickly took out his flute and played part of a dance music compo-
sition called “Genjoˉraku.” As if having a change of heart, the snake closed
its mouth, listened to the music, backed off, and slithered away.12 Although
I include this folktale as an example of music as aesthetical protection, it is
relevant that the flute music for the “Genjoˉraku” dance, always performed
on the Japanese komabue transverse flute, is in itself considered magical; it
is music from the ancient Korean-derived Komagaku, or music of the left,
which is the esoteric dance music of the Japanese court music tradition
known as Bugaku. The “Genjoˉraku” dance is accompanied by a melody
that is a type of musical spell to exorcise a snake, and the story itself is said
to be derived from an ancient Indian Vedic folktale. Therefore, although the
snake does not dance or act enchanted in any way when it hears the music
but merely goes away, this is magical flute music. Indeed, it seems that it
is not always possible to make a clear distinction between aesthetic and
magical protection with regard to flute music in many folktales and myths.

Practical Protection
Practical protection in flutelore is sonic protection rather than physical
protection, such as using a flute for a weapon. A Turkish narrative, “The
Cauldron-Headed, Ax-Toothed Sister,” collected from the Turkish village
of Azizli in 1962, describes a situation whereby a boy relies on his flute to
provide a signal for his protective animals to come and save him from being
eaten by his ogre-like sister. The story begins when the boy’s mother, after
having three sons, prays for a daughter: “Oh, God, let me have a daughter,
even if her head is as big as a cauldron and her teeth are like axes.” That is
exactly what happens, and after a number of years it is discovered by the
youngest brother that his grotesque sister enjoys killing sheep and eating
them while the shepherds (her other brothers) are sleeping. The parents do
not believe him, causing the boy to pack his horse and leave. He acquires a
job as a shepherd for an old woman, who tells him to watch out for sheep-
eating monsters in the mountains. The next few days he goes with her sheep
and his gun into the mountains. There, on different days and at different
 Flu t es a n d Prot ec t i v e Pow er 125

places, he encounters a female lion, a bear, and a tiger that he intends to shoot
for food. Each animal pleads with him to spare its life, offering the boy one
of her cubs instead. Each time this happens, the boy takes the animal cub
to the old woman’s house and asks her to raise it. After a short time, lonely
for his family, the boy tells the old woman to care for his animal cubs by
feeding them milk. When the boy arrives in his home village, he is met by
his ogre-like sister, who has been eating everything she can find. She greets
her brother and volunteers to take his horse to water. She eats the horse,
one leg at a time, over several days. She then offers to delouse her brother’s
head, and when he realizes she is going to bite off his head and eat him, he
convinces her to eat him a better way: she should stand in the fireplace, and
he will go to the roof and drop himself down the chimney into her cauldron-
sized and ax-toothed mouth. “You can eat me better that way,” he said.
However, he tricks her by dropping a large roller down the chimney and
into her mouth instead. Running away from the house, he realizes that his
sister is angrily chasing him. He climbs a tree to escape her, but she comes
and gnaws down the tree. He jumps to another tree, which she also gnaws
down. Then he jumps to another, and so it continues until there is only one
tree left. He yells, “Stop, sister! You will eat me, all right, but before you
do, let me play a few sad tunes on my flute.” Shortly after playing several
tunes, the three animal cubs come to his rescue. His sister is afraid of the
animals and realizes she is about to be eaten herself. Her brother tells his
animals, “Oh, lion, catch her! Oh, tiger, swallow her! Oh, bear, break her
ax-toothed jaws!” Before they heed his commands, however, the ogre-sister
tells her brother to cut out her tongue and keep it in his pocket for good
luck. Returning home with his animals and his sister’s tongue in his pocket,
he is met by a vendor with a large caravan of goods who desires the boy’s
animals. He makes a wager with the boy, offering him his entire caravan if
the boy can identify what the stick in his pocket is used for. If he can’t, the
boy will have to give the vendor all his animals. His sister’s tongue speaks to
her brother, saying, “It’s called a magic wand,” which is the correct answer.
The boy wins the wager and the entire caravan becomes his, making him
very wealthy.13 In this rather grotesque narrative, the boy’s protective lion,
bear, and tiger cubs are called to his aid with his magic flute whose sound
is like a protective alarm or signal that the animals respond to.
In another folktale about signaling for protection, known as “The Hunter
and his Magic Flute,” from the Yoruba of Nigeria, the main character is a
mighty hunter named Ojo, who plays a very old flute that he has always
claimed to have magical powers.14 Ojo owns three ferocious and very pro-
tective dogs that have the strange names of Cut to Pieces, Swallow Up, and
126 Ch a p t er 9

Clear the Remains, and wherever he goes into the forest to hunt, he can
blow on his flute, and his dogs will come to him. One day, Ojo went on a
long hunting trip, but he left his dogs behind, tied up at his village home. He
had heard stories about dangerous spirits that inhabited the deepest parts
of the forest where he chose to set up his hunting camp. Especially feared
was Iyabomba, the giant Mother of the Forest, who was as tall as ten men
and had ferocious mouths all over her body. In the middle of the forest,
Ojo set up his camp and then laid down to rest and look around, all the
time feeling like he was being watched. Feeling the presence of evil nearby,
suddenly Iyabomba, the giant Mother of the Forest, jumped out in front of
him. “Don’t be afraid,” she yells. “I won’t eat you if you don’t harm me. I
know that you have come only to hunt.” Then she suddenly disappeared.
Ojo set off to hunt and had a very successful day. He cleaned his game,
slept, and the next day successfully hunted again. When he returned to his
camp for the second time, however, he discovered that all his game from
the previous day had been stolen. These thefts occurred for six more days,
and Ojo ended up with no game to show for his efforts. Suspecting the
Mother of the Forest to be the thief, he decided to move on to a different
location. As he left, he angrily yelled out, “Old hag, why did you steal all
my meat?” Suddenly, Iyabomba let out a roar and came running towards
him with all of her mouths open and her teeth gnashing, attempting to make
Ojo another one of her meals. Ojo ran as fast as he could, realizing that
his only temporary escape was to climb to the top of a large tree, which he
successfully did. Iyabomba was not able to climb trees, but with all of her
mouths, she began chewing on the tree, tearing the trunk apart little by little
to make the mighty tree fall down. In panic, Ojo took his magical flute and
played it as loudly as possible. His protective dogs, although far off in his
home village, heard their master’s call, begin to howl, quickly broke their
leashes, jumped the high walls of the compound, and frantically ran off
to find Ojo and protect him. Just when Ojo thought he had lost his battle
with the Mother of the Forest, Cut to Pieces, Swallow Up, and Clear the
Remains suddenly arrived and with fierce abandon pounced on Iyabomba,
fought a fierce battle, and defeated her, killed her, tore her apart, and ate
her up until nothing remained. And that was the end of the Mother of the
Forest. Ojo continued to hunt without fear, bringing home good meat for
the table and living happily ever after with his wife and his three protective
and well-fed dogs.
There are numerous examples of practical protection when animal helpers
answer the call or signal of a flute, usually played by a human flutist but
also played by a frog flutist (as seen in chapter 6). The protective power in
 Flu t es a n d Prot ec t i v e Pow er 127

these stories is both practical, or like a signal, and aesthetic, or musically

pleasing, because it has a tune. The tune, however, has to be recognizable
by the protective agents for them to respond to it.

Physical Protection
While a flute seems too small to hide a man from danger, nothing is im-
possible in the magical world of the Hopi Flute Society in the American
Southwest. In a Hopi legend called “Fate of Pongoktsina and Wife,” the
main character is a young Hopi man named Pongoktsina, who has an evil
wife and two innocent children. The following is my version of a small
portion of the story:
One evening Pongoktsina told his two children to run off to their grandmother’s
house. He then killed his evil wife while she slept, and as he left to cross the
desert at night and join his children, he realized he was being chased by his
wife’s ghost. While running to escape the ghost, Pongoktsina saw a light off in
the west and headed towards it. The light was coming from a fire in a fire pit
by a kiva where a Hopi Flute Society was performing a ritual within its walls.
When Pongoktsina got to the kiva, he entered and begged the members of the
Flute Society to help him, which they did. One of the flute players somehow
magically shrunk Pongoktsina and placed him inside the tube of his flute. Even
though the flutist had a little human being inside his flute, he was still able to
play as beautifully as ever. The ghost of Pongoktsina’s wife followed her hus-
band’s footprints and tracked him to the very kiva where he was hiding. She
entered uninvited and asked the members of the Flute Society if they have seen
her husband. Being told no, she nevertheless searched for him, looking even
into the tubes of the flutes of the Flute Society members as they played. When
she went from one man to another without finding her husband, she got very
close to the flute wherein he was hiding. Pongoktsina had no idea how to escape
her, when the flutist suddenly pointed his flute toward the opening at the top
of the kiva and blew Pongoktsina outside.15

This type of flute protection is magical, but it does not rely on the sound
of the flute for its power; rather, it is physical protection that relies on magic
to shrink a person and make him small enough to be placed inside the tube
of the Hopi flute. In addition, the magic makes Pongoktsina so small that he
does not obstruct the flow of air through the flute, and the flutist continues
to play beautifully. Then, in the manner of a blowgun, the Hopi flutist points
his flute toward the hole in the top of the kiva and blows hard, propelling
the tiny man outside. Pongoktsina apparently lands full size, although the
legend does not say so, because still pursued by his wife’s ghost, he quickly
128 Ch a p t er 9

runs off to another location where the Gray Flute Society is playing inside
their kiva. He asks them for help, and they devise a plan. The story ends
when the ghost drowns in a pond of water as Pongoktsina watches from
the top of a sunflower where he is hiding.
In this legend, the breath of the Hopi flutist plays an important role. How-
ever, it is not breath for playing the flute and making powerful protective
music; rather, it is a sudden burst of air that magically propels Pongoktsina
like a dart from a blowgun. Thus, the flute physically protects Pongoktsina
in two ways: by hiding him within the flute’s tube and by shooting him off
through and out of the end of the tube so he can escape. Death takes place
as the ghost dies (the wife’s second death); however, it is not the music of the
flute that kills her but the ingenuity of the Gray Flute Society members, who
indirectly cause the ghost’s death by trickery—that is, hiding Pongoktsina
and creating ripples and a reflection of him in the pond so his wife’s ghost
thinks he’s in the pond, jumps in, and drowns.

In the next chapter, death takes on a greater importance as flutes and flute
music can be seen and heard as tools that cast spells causing death to animals
and people and even to the flutist himself or herself.
Story 10

The Rat Catcher of Korneuburg

Austria

Long ago in Europe, when many plagues were common and difficult to
stop, unlike today, the town of Korneuburg, Austria, had such a terrible
infestation of rats that the people were in despair. Rats were everywhere,
in nooks and crannies, in open streets and fields, in apartments and houses;
no place was safe from them. When a woman opened a cupboard or dresser
drawer, rats jumped out; when a man went to bed, the straw in his mattress
began to rustle from nesting rats; when a family sat down at a table to eat,
rats jumped up for dinner without an invitation and showing no fear. All
attempts to get rid of the ugly animals were in vain. It was so bad that the
wise town councilmen gathered together to establish a reward for whomever
would rid their town of its vermin. A public announcement for the reward
was made and posted throughout the area.
In a few days an oddly dressed stranger wearing patched clothes appeared
to the Mayor’s office and asked if there was still a reward for ridding the
town of its rats. The Mayor assured him there was, whereupon the pied
stranger said he could lure all the rats away from their hiding places and
out of town with his artistic talents and that he would drive them into the
Danube River. The Mayor and the councilmen were very delighted to hear
this and told him to go ahead and do it immediately.
At once the stranger went to the town square at the center of Korneuburg.
He reached into a dark leather bag that hung from his shoulder and took
out a small black wooden transverse flute. He began to play, not pleasant
tones, but high-pitched notes that the rats seemed to be attracted to and
enjoy very much. In large numbers the rats came out from all the nooks and

“Der Rattenfänger von Kroneubuerg” appeared in Spiegel Online Kultur, Projekt

Gutenberg–DE. Translated by Dale A. Olsen.
130 Story 10

crannies, roads and fields, apartments and houses, and other places where
they were hiding and nesting, and ran towards the pied piper playing the
piercing music. The rat-catching flutist slowly walked toward the Danube
River tooting his flute, followed by a train of rats that meandered through
the streets like a hideous black and gray worm.
Once at the shore of the Danube the flutist neither stopped playing nor
ceased walking, and without hesitation he waded into the river up to his
chest. The rats followed him into the water, but not being good swimmers
they panicked, floated into the middle of the river, and were drowned as
they were swept away by the swift currents and eddies of the Danube. Every
rat in Korneuburg had followed the pied flutist, and not even one rat’s tail
remained at the river’s edge.
The amazed and jubilant people of Korneuburg assembled at the bank of
the Danube to cheer and applaud the mysterious flute-playing stranger with
the patched clothes. The rat catcher stepped out of the river and went to
Town Hall to collect his reward. Now, however, the rats were gone and the
mayor was far less friendly, saying that the job wasn’t really that difficult for
the stranger and that there is no guarantee that the rats won’t come back.
He offered the rat catcher a quarter of the reward money and told him to
get out of town. However, the flutist refused to accept the meager amount
and insisted on the full payment originally agreed upon. Defiantly, the mayor
threw the money bag containing a quarter amount of the reward at the feet
of the stranger and showed him to the door. The rat catcher, however, left
the money untouched and exited the council chamber with an angry and
evil look in his eyes.
Several weeks went by, and one day the stranger reappeared, now dressed
in splendid clothes rather than in patches. At the town square he reached into
his leather bag, and this time removed a golden transverse flute. Putting it
to his lips, he began to play, not high-pitched tones as before, but beautiful
enchanting music that everyone listened to in amazement, entranced by the
wondrous sounds. The children, however, were not spellbound but exited
their homes and ran up to the flutist in droves. Immediately they followed
him when he set off with lilting steps while playing his golden flute to the
edge of the Danube. On the bank of the river a sailing ship was moored,
adorned with colorful ribbons and flags fluttering in the wind. Without
stopping his music or his lilting pace, the flutist boarded the ship with all
the children trotting along behind him. When the last child boarded, the
flutist pushed the vessel away from the shore, took the tiller, and sailed into
the middle of the Danube in the bright sunshine, going downstream faster
 T h e R at C atch er of Kor n eubu rg 131

and faster, until disappearing out of the view of the stunned adults still in
town, unable to move. Only two children had remained behind—one was
deaf and had not heard the alluring music of the golden flute, and the other
had returned to the shore to get his jacket.
When the adults were released from the magical spell of the rat catcher’s
golden flute music and looked for their children, none was to be found except
for the two that remained behind. The adults suffered tremendous sorrow
at the loss of their children, and there was loud lamenting throughout the
town. Almost all the families suffered the loss of one or more children. This
was the revenge of the deceived pied flutist, the rat catcher of Korneuburg.
Neither he, the sailing vessel, nor the children were ever to be seen or heard
of again.
Ch a p t er 10

Flutes and Death

The malevolent power of the flute or its ability to transmit or cast spells
leading to death is determined by the malevolence of the flutist, as in story
10, “The Rat Catcher of Korneuburg.” The musical instrument that provides
the magical musical force leading the rats to their deaths is a little, black
whistle (ein schwarzes Pfeiflein), which I gloss as a “black wooden trans-
verse flute.” On the other hand, the children are led to their fate by music
played on a golden whistle (Pfeife, die golden funkelte), which I gloss as a
“golden transverse flute.” The main actor in “The Rat Catcher of Korneu-
burg” charms the rats and magically causes them to follow him (this is direct
magic) while playing his black, wooden transverse flute. After receiving no
payment, he charms the children and magically causes them to follow him
while playing a golden transverse flute (this is also direct magic). The color
and material metaphors used for the flutes in this story are significant: dark,
black color signifies inexpensive wood for the lowly rats, while brilliant,
gold color signifies expensive gold for the precious children. In spite of the
materials for their construction, however, both flutes are powerful magical
sonic forces in the hands and with the breath of the pied flutist that led to
the deaths of the rats, the transfixion of the adults, and the disappearance
and, perhaps, ultimate deaths of the children.
“The Rat Catcher of Korneuburg” is a story that may be partially based on
facts. Korneuburg, for example, is today an Austrian city of approximately
twelve thousand people situated on the left bank of the Danube River, about
nine miles northwest of Vienna. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,
it was a part of the Archduchy of Austria under the Holy Roman Empire.
Korneuburg and the other Catholic areas along the Danube were conquered
by the Swedes in 1646 during the Thirty Years’ War but after six months was
reclaimed by the Imperial forces.1 Many of the cities and towns in central
 Flu t es a n d De at h 133

Europe were destroyed, their buildings in rubble, and people dead or dying
of disease and plagues. Rats, however, multiplied beneath the ruins of the
destroyed buildings, causing devastation and spreading disease. Thereupon,
many legends were created about the rat catcher who eradicated rats with
his music. The following story, also titled “The Rat Catcher of Korneuburg,”
tells of the honor that the city bestowed upon the flute player who rid the
city of rats:
Once famous for its grain markets, the city of Korneuburg was heavily infested
with rats and mice. Nothing the City Council did against this scourge helped.
Then a man appeared in the city, claiming that through his art he could capture
animals, including all the Korneuburg rats, and expel them by driving them into
the waters of the nearby Danube River. They promised him a nice reward. So,
with his flute the man went whistling throughout the city, and in no time he
drove all the rats and mice onto the shore of the Danube. When he demanded
his wages, a dispute arose over the amount, and the City Council refused to
pay. “Very well, then!” said the rat catcher, who went back to the shore and
playing his flute led all the rats back into town. Thereupon the City Council
deemed it wise to give the rat catcher the required wage. Again he took his
flute and lured the rats back to and into the water of Danube, where they all
drowned. To commemorate the liberation of these rats a rat monument was
built and erected. Many years later the people did not want a commemorative
rat statue in their town square, so they called it a rat gravestone and made a
new and elaborate statue of the Pied Piper of Korneuburg, placing it next to
the City Hall.2

In another variant of this legend, “The Rat Catcher of M ­ agdalenagrund,”

the rat catcher’s name was Hans Mousehole from Magdalenagrund, a former
suburb of Vienna. After leading the rats to their deaths by playing “a mourn-
ful tune” on his black transverse flute, he was accused by a town councilman
of being in league with the Devil and was threatened with a witch trial. Hans
Mousehole replied, “Take note that there are not merely evil, but also good
higher powers. I used the latter to do good for you, for good things can
come only from that which is good. But if you ungrateful people cheat me
out of my well earned pay then you will come to know the evil powers as
well.” On that note and upon not receiving a penny of the reward, he ap-
peared the next day dressed in a long purple robe playing a golden transverse
flute with which he mesmerized the adults and so enamored the children to
him that the latter all followed him on board a ship tied up on the bank of
the Danube. After all the children were on board the ship set sail and was
never seen again. The story concludes with grim news and a type of moral:
“Many years later the horrified citizens of Korneuburg received news that
134 Ch a p t er 10

in that same year a large number of children had been placed up for sale in
the slave markets of Constantinople. They had no doubt that the children
were theirs, and they rued their lack of honor, but too late.”3
It is interesting that in this variant of the story it is written that a “mourn-
ful” tune is played on the black transverse flute used to lure the rats, rather
than “high-pitched notes” in story 10. In my opinion, a mournful tune can
also consist of high-pitched whistle sounds when played on a small flute,
and because rats and other animals are physiologically attracted to or ir-
ritated by high-pitched whistle sounds, the stories are essentially the same.
Also, if the sounds of the flutes are magical, then any whistle tones (high or
low) would have the power to cast spells.

Pipes and Death: Flutes or Oboes?

In spite of the above rat-catcher legends, flutes are not as commonly used to
cast spells leading to death in stories of magic and power; more common for
that kind of deadly magic are oboes or shawms (double-reed aerophones;
oboes have keys and shawms are keyless), violins, and other instruments
that make buzzing sounds. Most often, death-producing aerophonic in-
struments are of an undetermined type in the literature—they are simply
called “pipes.” Likewise, the player of a “pipe” is called a “piper,” which is
also nondescriptive, sonically or acoustically speaking. The most common
example where the term “pipe” has led to organological confusion is in the
famous folktale from Germany that everyone knows, “The Pied Piper of
Hamelin” (Der Rattenfänger von Hameln, lit. “The Rat Catcher of Hame-
lin”), made famous by the Brothers Grimm, Goethe, and English poet Robert
Browning. Similar to story 10 and the other rat-catcher stories just read,
the musical instrument that provides the magical force leading to the death
of the rats in “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” is usually described as either an
oboe or a shawm or a bagpipe (generally a double- or triple-tubed single-
reed or double-reed instrument), all characterized by a buzzy tone quality.
Whether an edge aerophone or a double-reed aerophone, the outcome is
the same. In verse 13 of Browning’s poem, for example, published in 1842,
the music not only charms the children, causing them to happily follow
the piper into the river, but it also casts a spell on the adults, making them
rigid and unable to move:
The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
As if they were changed into blocks of wood,
Unable to move a step, or cry
 Flu t es a n d De at h 135

To the children merrily skipping by—

And could only follow with the eye
That joyous crowd at the Piper’s back.4

While scholars will probably never resolve the argument about what
type of aerophone is referred to in “The Pied Piper of Hamelin,” several
twentieth-century musical compositions the folktale inspired feature the
Western orchestral flute as the pipe. Best known in art music composition
is John Corigliano‘s flute concerto “The Pied Piper Fantasy,” written be-
tween 1979 and 1982 and premièred by flutist James Galway and the Los
Angeles Philharmonic on February 4, 1982. In Western popular music, rock
flutist Ian Anderson composed the song “Pied Piper,” which he performed
and recorded with the rock band Jethro Tull in 1976.5 Although neither of
these compositions casts evil spells leading to death, each supports the use
of the flute as the “pipe” in the “Pied Piper of Hamelin” folktale and many
variants.
Because of the confusion among the pipe-like aerophones in the folk
literature, more examples are needed. Generally, the buzzy sounds of reed
instruments and trumpets are powerful and auspicious and in some religions
are related to death and the afterlife, as in Tibetan Lamaism (Buddhism).
Likewise, the double pipes played by Etruscan pipers depicted in numerous
murals in ancient tombs throughout central Italy, often erroneously called
“double flutes” in books about Etruscan art, are double-tubed, double-
reed instruments.6 The flute/oboe (or flute/shawm) controversy for the term
“pipe” is, in fact, very common with regard to the organology of ancient
Italy, Greece, and the Near East, especially when double pipes are depicted
in ancient art.7 However, when the term auloi is used in Etruscan and
Greek literature and the word tibiae in Roman literature, the instruments
are definitely double-tubed shawm-type aerophones. The best-known myth
about the auloi and death of the player comes from ancient Greece, and
although the instrument is not a flute, the story is included here because of
the instrument’s importance as a breath instrument relating to the death
of its player. The myth is about a musical duel between Marsyas, an auloi-
playing satyr, and the god Apollo, who played the lyre.8 Although Marsyas
was a wonderful auloi player, he made a big mistake by challenging Apollo
in a musical contest. The usual Greek rules applied: The winner could do
whatever he wanted with the loser. The musical duel was a good contest
because each musician could perfectly imitate the other, not only with every
note but even with the tone colors—not an easy feat because of the normally
mellow string tones produced on the lyre and the loud buzz typical of the
136 Ch a p t er 10

auloi. Apollo, however, came up with a tricky maneuver: He turned his lyre
upside down and played. This technique did not affect the positioning of the
strings on his instrument, and they were still lined up the same as before;
however, it looked strange because the tortoiseshell resonator was held aloft
next to Apollo’s face rather than on his lap. He played a fast dance tune
and challenged Marsyas to turn his instrument upside down and play the
same tune. Of course, that was impossible because an auloi’s mouthpiece is
in the top of the instrument, and the bottom tubes are open for the sound
to go out. Apollo had tricked Marsyas and won the contest. To finish the
duel, Apollo hung Marsyas on a pine tree and removed his skin with a knife,
which, of course, killed him. That is why even today, they say, pine trees
have red-colored bark—it is the color of the Marsyas’s blood.
This myth is not really about the power of the auloi to cause death but
about the musician’s inability to play his instrument upside down and thus
match the playing technique employed by Apollo, who played his lyre upside
down. An interesting flute-playing conclusion could be made from this myth,
however: Flutes are more versatile than oboes. For example, had Marsyas
played a flute-type instrument rather than an oboe-type, he probably could
have played it upside down because many flutes have an edge at both ends
that can be blown across to produce whistle tones.

Flutes and Indirect Death to Others

Sometimes, death may occur indirectly to others because of the spell of
the flute or flute music, as in the following excerpt from a lengthy Native
American narrative from the Great Plains, possibly Blackfoot culture, “Star-
Boy”: “Then Old-Woman gave the boy a flute. As he began to play, the men
became frightened, and dared not move; Old-Woman became transformed
into a beautiful young girl; and, as Star-Boy continued to play, she turned
into a spider, crawled up the tent-pole, and watched the performance from
her seat at the top of the pole. Star-Boy played until the food gave out
and long after, so that the men all starved to death.”9 The cause of death
was starvation because the men were too frightened, perhaps transfixed, to
move or eat. Regardless of how they died, it was the magic of the flute that
indirectly lead to the deaths of the men.

Flutes and Death to Self

The playing of a flute can sometimes lead to an undesirable end, such as
death for the flutist, as in the Bulgarian folktale “The Shepherd and the
 Flu t es a n d De at h 137

Samodivi,” presented in chapter 5. In that tale, it is believed that whistle

sounds can attract spirits that are evil or, at least, “playful,” like dangerous
tricksters. The Samodivi, for example, are probably not evil, but like Homer’s
sirens in the Iliad, they are dangerously playful to the extent that they cause
death to the flutist. In “The Shepherd and the Samodivi,” it is not the flute
or the flute’s music that directly causes death to the flutist, however, but the
intervention of the malevolent spirits, the nymphs, who are attracted by the
music of the shepherd’s flute. A similar folk epic indirectly causing death to
the flutist is “Jitu Bagadwal” from the Himalayan mountains of northern
India, specifically among the Garhwal in Uttarakhand:
Jitu and Shobhanu were the children of Gariba. Sumera was their mother and
Phyunli Jaunsu their grandmother. Kunja was their grandfather and Shobhani
their sister.
Raja Manshaha had given them fertile fields of grain at Bagudi and it is from
this that their name became Bagadwal. Jitu Bagadwal was a frivolous man who
roamed freely looking for entertainment everywhere. Like a bee he would fly
this way and that.
Once as the monsoon arrived he was reminded of the need to transplant the
rice in his fields. Jitu sent his brother Shobhanu to consult with their Pandit.
The Pandit said that, according to his astrological reading, it is their sister,
Shobhani (who is married and lives with her in-laws), who must work in the
fields. Shobhanu returns and tells his family everything. Their mother wants to
send Shobhanu to collect Shobhani but Jitu himself wants to go. “My brother
does not understand things properly; it is I who must go.”
At that moment Jitu’s goat sneezes. His mother recognizes this as an ominous
sign and tries to stop him from going. However, Jitu tells her, “The sixth day of
the month of Asad has been set down by the Pandit for transplanting the rice.
Whatever it takes, I must bring my sister.”
Jitu gets ready to go. His wife also complains saying, “I know what you are
really trying to do. You are just going to have a good time with your in-laws.”
But Jitu listens to no one. He packs up his flute and heads off.
As he travels through the hot midday sun he reaches Rainthal where, after
taking a short rest, he begins to play his nine-note flute. Hearing the sweet
sounds of his flute, the nine sprites of Khair come to him and sit on his hands,
nose, ears, and eyes where they begin to drink his blood. Jitu calls on his house
deity, Bhairav, for help. The sprites agree to leave Jitu after making him promise
to return.
Jitu reaches his sister Shobhani and meets his in-laws and has a great time.
Jitu tells his in-laws that he doesn’t know whether he will meet them again.
He returns to his house with his sister. The day for planting arrives and
preparations are made. Jitu takes his oxen and reaches the fields. He takes out
his flute to play it, and as he takes the second turn with his oxen, the sprites
138 Ch a p t er 10

land on his nose, ears and eyes and drink all his blood. He falls down and is
swallowed into the earth.

Ethnomusicologist Andrew Alter points out two details of this story that
relate to the traditional use of the flute among the Garhwal.10 First is the
fact that when the flute is played in Uttarakhand, which is rarely the case
today, it is believed to attract dangerous sprites that are capable of causing
death; therefore, children are discouraged from playing flutes. Secondly,
the Garhwal flute is a vertically-held duct flute they call murali, rather than
the transverse ductless bansuri flute; this is a relevant distinction because
the latter instrument is the flute type played by Krishna, which attracts
benevolent rather than malevolent beings, and is associated with divine
love rather than death (see chapters 5 and 12). Likewise, recalling Muriel
Percy Brown’s lengthy explanation quoted in chapter 1, vertical duct flutes
in Sikkim, which is also in the Himalayas, have much less magical power
than transverse ductless flutes, and the mountain spirits are not attracted
to them as they are to the transverse types.
Death to the flutist caused by playing the flute, however, is not always
indirectly caused by supernatural entities that are attracted by the flute
music; it can also be caused directly by flute playing. In a lengthy legend
the folklorist José María Arguedas collected from the Quechua people of
Peru, “Isicha Puytu,” an Indian girl who eventually acquires the name Isi-
cha Puytu, plays a human bone kena flute into a ceramic jar, ultimately, I
believe, causing her death (see also chap. 4). Contrary to Arturo Jiménez
Borja’s interpretation that the sound of a kena played into a clay pot “defeats
death and promotes life,” the legend “Isicha Puytu” suggests the death of
the female flutist as the outcome of her fluting into a jar.11 In the story, the
Indian girl goes to live with the Governor of the region to fulfill her mita or
“work obligation,” which is essentially to be his servant or, in this case, his
concubine. Rather than releasing her after her obligation is over, however,
the governor desired to keep her as his lover forever. The following excerpts
relate to her magical flute playing and death:
Day and night [the governor] was with her, with his love. With her he ate, with
her he slept, with her he waited for nightfall. Isicha Puytu knew how to play
a quena, made of human bone. These quenas are played underneath a long
narrow-mouthed pitcher. Intensely and beautifully she played the quena and
because of this she was called Isicha Puytu. The Governor bought her a quena
and a pitcher. She puts her hands inside the pitcher and plays the quena. He
sings! It is the Governor who sings!

Isicha Puytu’s brother, sister, and parents were very concerned for her and
alternately come to visit and try to persuade her to leave the governor’s
 Flu t es a n d De at h 139

house and return home. First, her brothers came, but she would neither
look at nor listen to them:
But she did not wish to look. Very tranquil, seated upon the bed of the Governor,
she played her quena, she made the instrument moan. Nothing more.

She refuses to acknowledge them as her family. She calls her brothers filthy
and claims they are not her brothers. When her father comes to visit, she
calls him an old dog and tells him to get out of her house. When her mother
tries to persuade her to come home, she says, “Why do you come, each of
you, bringing me filthy food and trying to make yourselves pass for my
relatives? Do I, perhaps, know you, ill-smelling woman?” Her mother gives
her daughter the ultimate curse by exposing her breast and making move-
ments as if she is breastfeeding the earth, saying, “With this you must find
eternal life!” Her family leaves, weeping, vowing never to see her again,
and forgetting about her.12
Shortly, the governor leaves on a trip and asks his servants to watch over
Isicha Puytu by keeping guard over her as she sleeps. However, they disobey,
and during the night, she dies. The story continues, after the governor returns
home and realizes his beloved Isicha Puytu has died:
The Governor had bought during his trip the most beautiful objects for Isicha
Puytu. And carrying the gifts he entered the bedroom and closed the door
violently. Weeping, he lifted up his lover and made her sit on the bed; he began
to call her:
“Come back to life, Isicha Puytu! Come back to life!”
He sat by her side; and he was weeping. He wept all night long by the side
of his lover.
At daybreak he dressed her in the new garments he had brought to her; he
adorned her and he called to her again.
“Isicha Puytu: play the flute of the pitcher!”
When the servants entered, they found the corpse sitting up, beautifully
dressed and arrayed; they saw that the Governor was speaking to it as if Isicha
Puytu were alive.
Thus he gazed upon her for three nights and three days. He did not even
remember that Isicha Puytu had to be buried. And at that point, while he was
gazing upon her, Isicha Puytu revived; she lifted the flute and began to play it.
It was like death, the song of the flute; under the pitcher the instrument wept
torrents; it evoked weeping and death. The Governor was overjoyed: “Isicha
Puytu has revived!” he exclaimed.13

These are the extent of the passages relating to Isicha Puytu’s flute playing.
The story continues, however, with surprising twists and turns, sexual and
macabre, ultimately ending with both Isicha Puytu and the governor being
taken away by the devil in a carriage of fire.
140 Ch a p t er 10

It is my interpretation of this story that Isicha Puytu’s flute playing into a

ceramic jar, plus the curse placed upon her by her mother, led to her death.
There are perhaps numerous morals to this story, such as beware of the evils
of the mita system, a master and his female slave should not live in sin, the
disavowing of one’s siblings and parents is not healthy, and others, most of
them mentioned in the legend itself. These morals relate not only to death
but also to unethical behaviors based on unnatural relationships.

The next chapter deals specifically with flutes and both unethical and ethical
behavior. The result of the former is often death, as story 11 makes clear.
Story 11

The Pifuano Flute of the

Chullachaqui Rainforest Spirits
Iquitos, Peru

Told to Jua n C a rlos Gal e a no

by Don Gr egor io C a r pio Sá nch ez
a nd ot hers

A young man and his two brothers had been hunting for several days
without finding any animals. Dejected and hungry, the two older brothers
returned home, while the youngest brother stayed, looking for game to
take to his family. The following day he saw several peccaries (sajinos),
which he followed until they disappeared into the entrance of a cave. He
went inside the cave and found himself in the middle of a grove of fruit
trees which shaded the leaf-covered floor of the cave. Sitting beneath one
of the star apple (caimito) trees was a man who resembled a dwarf. It was
a grandfather Chullachaqui, a spirit of the rainforest who, according to
the beliefs of the elders, has one leg shorter than the other and is able to
convert itself into a person, a relative, or an animal––by borrowing the skin
of an animal, it can change itself into that animal, whether it be a monkey,
a tapir (sachavaca), or a bird.
Because the Chullachaqui can read the minds of people, it realized that
the young man was hungry and gave him something with which to help
him. The Chullachaqui picked up a coral snake (nacanaca) from the floor
of the cave, and immediately the snake changed into a beautiful pifuano
(flute)—a musical instrument used by the people of the rainforest. “This
pifuano produces a type of music that can only be heard by the animals, and
it makes them come to you. However, if you do not use the flute well, you

Juan Carlos Galeano, Cuentos Amazónicos, 117–20. Translated by Dale A. Olsen.

Permission granted from Folktales of the Amazon, 2009, published by ABC-
CLIO, LLC, which owns all English translation rights.
142 Story 11

will be punished,” explained the Chullachaqui. “Keep it in this bag that I

give to you and play it only when your family needs meat to eat.” Then the
spirit told the young man that if he so desires, it could also give him fruit
from its grove.
While the young hunter ate zapote and guava fruits, he saw a woman
and her children coming close to the trees as if they were going to pick the
fruit. However, they could only smell it. “They must be related to the Chul-
lachaqui,” he thought, observing that one of their legs was shorter than the
others. He also observed that none of them had an anus. The young man
graciously thanked the Chullachaqui and left the grove via the mouth of
the cave, as he had entered. On route towards his home, he began to laugh,
saying to himself: “Ha, ha, ha, Chullachaquis don’t have anuses; ha, ha, ha,
Chullachaquis don’t have anuses.”
Later the young hunter played the pifuano and was able to kill a peccary.
When he arrived at his house, his family was so content that he had re-
turned with so much meat that even his dogs and a parrot were happy. To
celebrate the event, his brothers and their families came to drink masato
manioc beer and to eat. The young man told them about his encounter with
the Chullachaquis, that they could only smell the fruit and they didn’t have
anuses. “Ha, ha, ha, Chullachaquis don’t have anuses; ha, ha, ha, Chul-
lachaquis don’t have anuses, yes, that is funny,” the brothers, women, and
children laughingly spoke. “Ha, ha, ha, Chullachaquis don’t have anuses,”
the macaw that lived in the family’s kitchen repeated many times during
the evening.
That night everyone drank lots of masato manioc beer and one of the
brothers said: “What we need to do is play this pifuano flute that only the
animals can hear, so we can obtain as much meat as we need to fill this
kitchen to the roof, and thus escape from our poverty.” “Then we won’t
waste so many days looking for animals throughout the rainforest,” added
the eldest brother. However, the youngest brother who had killed the pec-
cary told them that this would not be possible because he had promised
the Chullachaqui that he would only hunt and kill as much as his family
needed. His brothers told him that he was a fool.
From the time he was first given the pifuano, the young hunter did not
have to go very far to hunt animals. He went, playing the flute melodies to at-
tract the animals and selected only the animal that was needed. His brothers,
however, came ever more frequently to try to convince their younger brother
by saying, “Brother, think about the fact that if you would use the pifuano
to kill many animals, our family would be wealthier than any other family
 T h e Pifua no Flu t e of t h e Ch ull ach aqui Spir i ts 143

in this region.” Once again, the youngest brother told his brothers that that
would not be possible because the Chullachaqui would get very angry.
The older brothers came many times to ask their youngest brother to loan
them the pifuano flute, and one day, because they had drunk lots of masato
beer, the youngest brother gave into their wishes. Together, they went into
the rainforest with large bags, salt, and friends to help them bring back the
carcasses of quails (panguanas), tapirs, peccaries, and other animals that
they thought they could kill and later sell in the Belén market in Iquitos.
With regard to the pifuano, they carried it in the same bag that the youngest
brother had been given by the Chullachaqui. Once they arrived to where they
thought there were animals, the greediest brother said: “Brother, here is a
good place where we can call the animals and then kill them. Let me be the
one to play the music on the pifuano that only the animals can hear.” When
the man placed the pifuano to his mouth, at precisely the moment when it
emitted a sound, the flute changed itself into a coral snake and bit him in
the face, causing him to die instantly. With regard to the young hunter who
had received the pifuano from the Chullachaqui, he died suddenly while
eating his breakfast the next morning.
The deceased young man’s family recounted that the macaw laughed all
day from the rafters of the kitchen: “Ha, ha, ha, Chullachaquis don’t have
anuses; ha, ha, ha, Chullachaquis don’t have anuses.”
Ch a p t er 11

Flutes and
Unethical/Ethical Behavior

Many of the folktales presented in this book can be interpreted as pertain-

ing to unethical or ethical human behavior, even when the main actors are
animals. This is one of the main functions of folklore—to instruct humans
in proper ethical behavior within its cultural boundaries. Many folktales
could properly end, “The moral of this story is . . .” However, their charm
is often the aspect of leaving the interpretation of a moral up to the listener
or reader of the story.
It is interesting that the main character in story 11 from Iquitos, Peru, is
a Peruvian rainforest spirit known as “El Chullachaqui,” an ogre that seems
more ethical than the humans it encounters. The term “chullachaqui” is a
combined Quechua name derived from “chulla” (uneven) and “chaqui”
(foot). Therefore, according to its name, the ogre has uneven feet, which it
cannot hide, even when it changes into human shape and may even resemble
a family member. However, the humans (and the parrot) in the above story
mock Chullachaqui not for its deformed feet but because it does not have an
anus, which seems to have little to do with the story except add a touch of
humor. The Spanish word rabo (tail) in this story is glossed as “anus,” and
not having one is a physical characteristic that relates this story to others
about dwarfs in the Amazon, who have neither anuses nor intestines and
eat their food by rolling in it on their backs.1 In spite of having deformed
feet and no anus, the Chullachaqui has shape-shifting magical powers and
can turn a poisonous coral snake into a flute, and vice versa.

Flutes and Greed

In “The Pifuano Flute of the Chullachaqui Rainforest Spirits,” the moral of
the story is probably “Don’t be greedy,” although it could also be “Never
 Flu t es a n d U n et hic a l /Et hic a l Beh av ior 145

touch a coral snake” or “Never trust a Chullachaqui.” The “Don’t be greedy”

moral seems to be the most logical one, however, because of the poor deci-
sions based on greed made by the human actors. The outcome of the story
is death to the man who desires more game animals than he needs, as the
flute changes instantly into a coral snake whose bite kills the flutist. Fur-
thermore, the man doesn’t want the game animals to feed his family but to
sell them in the big market in Iquitos, Peru, on the Amazon River, so he can
make lots of money. Greed is a common topic in folk literature, but few of
the stories about greed include flutes or flutists.
In the following folktale from Antigua, British West Indies, titled “Under
the Green Old Oak-Tree,” a greedy boy kills his sister just so he can have
her bucket. Later he drops dead when he hears the sound (the song) of a
flute made from a bone of his sister. The story has been transcribed into the
black English of Antigua from the 1920s as follows:
Dis a nice little story. Der woman had two chil’ren. One was a boy an’ der oder
was a girl. De fader a dese chil’ren die. Moder decide to marry again. She marry
to anoder man. Each day dese chil’ren did go to de mountain to get flowers. Dey
went on dis day. Girl had a better bucket den what de broder got. Dey comin’
wid de flowers. On his way home, de boy stop wid de gal. He t’inkin’ some evil
plan. Want dis bucket which was his sister. She would not consent to gi’ him dis
bucket. He t’ink it best to kill der sister. He kill de sister. He kill dis girl near to
a big oak-tree. An’ he hide her dere. After he kill her, he go home. Can’t give
no account a he sister. Dey all went to search for de girl, but none can find her.
Der broder stay home. Month gone.
Shepherd-boy dat is comin’ down de mountain meet a big bone like a flute.
He pick dis bone under dat same tree. He took up de bone an’ play. Comin’
home wid de flock, he play on de bone. It play a sweet tune:

My broder has killed me in de woods, an’ den he buryth me.

My broder has killed me in de woods, an’ den he buryth me
Under de green ol’ oak-tree, an’ den he buryth me.

Dat’s all it could play. It play sweet, you know. Comin’ home, all dat hear dis
tune beg de boy for a play on it. He give dem a play.
Now he way down de mountain. Mos’ to where de moder is livin’. He meet
de moder. She ask him for a play. He give her a play. As quick as she play, t’ing
say,—

My dear moder, my dear moder, it my dead bone you play.

My dear moder, my dear moder, it my dead bone you play.

She drop an’ faint, but never die. All de people was lookin’ for de girl. Dis
broder meet de boy. He ask him for a play. Take de bone an’ start. T’ing say,—
146 Ch a p t er 11

My broder, it is you dat has killed me.

My broder, it is you dat has killed me.

An’ dere he faints an’ dies. Dat is de end a da green ol’ oak-tree.2

This story is also about indirect magic of a type Boilès refers to as agent
or surrogate agent or recipient, as the death spell is caused by the “singing
bone” of the dead sister, made into a flute and performed by the nameless
shepherd boy who is the agent.3 I include this story here rather than in the
preceding chapter because its moral is the biblical commandment, “Thou
shalt not kill.” Here, the indirect magic causes instant death when the killer,
the brother, hears the music from the bone of his dead sister whom he killed.4

Flutes and Honesty

Most sincere flutists—that is, those who play the flute because they love
it—portrayed in flutetales are honest, or so it seems. For example, the flute
player in “The Rat Catcher of Korneuburg” is honest, although the towns-
people are not; however, he is vindictive. Some people who play flutes make
mistakes, but they seem to be people who try to play a flute but are not
really flutists, such as the older brother of the young flutist in “The Pifuano
Flute of the Chullachaqui Rainforest Spirits.”
An Ibo folktale from Nigeria, titled simply “The Flute,” is a story for
children about morality.5 Like other flutetales, in this story a boy loves to
play his flute and spend lots of time alone. He is the only child of a polyga-
mous man’s second wife and is required to work on the family farm away
from the village, in the wilderness, a place inhabited by spirits at night.
He always travels with his flute. However, one day he walked home after
a day’s hard work on the farm and realized he had forgotten his precious
flute. Ignoring pleas from his parents not to walk back to the farm at night
because of dangerous spirits in the wilderness, he went to get his flute. Sure
enough, after retrieving his flute, he was stopped on his way home by some
frightening spirits who asked him questions. He answered as best he could
and played his flute for them. They were pleased with his beautiful flute
music and with his friendly demeanor and honesty.
As a type of test, the spirits tempted the boy with a beautiful golden flute
and an equally valuable silver one and asked him to choose the flute he
would like to have. When he chose his own rustic bamboo flute over the
ones made from precious metals, the spirits were even more impressed by
his lack of greed. The story continues with other temptations, not only for
him but also for his family. This flutetale is about the evils of greed. It is
 Flu t es a n d U n et hic a l /Et hic a l Beh av ior 147

also about the beauty of music because the spirits like his flute playing and
sincerity. The boy’s ethical character and good behavior are supported by
the fact that he is able to bring happiness to those who hear him play his
flute, humans and nonhumans alike. English professor F. Odun Balogun
states that this story “teaches children not to be jealous, selfish, or greedy
but to be honest, sincere, modest, generous, respectful, and obedient,” even
though the boy does disobey his parents, who tell him not to go back to
the farm at night.6

The next chapter deals specifically with flutelore that pertains to the spiri-
tuality of flutes within three great religious systems: Sufism, Hinduism,
Zen Buddhism, and Judeo-Christianity. The particular instruments are the
Arabic or Farsi nay, the Hindustani bansuri or Karnatic venu, the Japanese
shakuhachi, and biblical “flutes” and musical instruments associated with
Jesus, respectively. Through the poetry and other literature pertaining to
the use of these flutes within those major religions, we can learn about and
appreciate the spiritual qualities of flutes in general.
Story 12

Song of the Flute:

The First Eighteen Verses
of Rumi’s Masnevi
Persia (Iran)

Listen to this flute [nay] while it is complaining,

The story of separation from God it’s explaining.
Ever since I’ve been plucked from my real ground,
Men and women, all cry with my yearning sound.
I want a breast torn away like mine with pains of separation,
Only to that breast I can tell the story of my lamentation.
If anyone from his own origin falls away,
He looks for a chance to find again his missing way.
In every company I cry and forever I moan,
Both the happy and the unhappy are moved by my tone.
According to their own opinions people try to be my friend,
Little do they bother to discover my esoteric trend?
However, my secret is not concealed from my painful cries,
But some fail to have the comprehensive ears and eyes.
The soul and the body are not from each other concealed,
But to many ears and eyes this fact is not revealed.
The breath to the flute is not a simple blow, it’s fire,
He who has no such fire, let him perish and expire.

Mevlana Jelal al-Din Rumi, “Masnevi: Song of the Flute.” Original composed
between 1250 and 1273. Versified translation by Erkan Türkmen, Mevlana
Museum, Nicosia, Cyprus. Used with the permission of Erkan Türkmen.
 Song of t h e Flu t e 149

It is the fire of love that has turned the flute demented,

And it the love-desire that keeps the wine fermented.
The flute is friend for those who loose [sic] their companions,
My chest is also perforated like the flute’s divisions.
Who has ever seen an antidote and poison like the flute?
Who can ever find a healing friend like the flute?
The flute is telling stories of dangerous ways and coils,
And the love stories of Majnun and his blood-stained toils.
The knower of this feeling is none but the insensible one,
As only an ear can hear the speaking of the tongue.
With our sorrows days have lost sense of time to pass away
Accompanied with pains they make us their prey.
If the days are passing by say, “Let them pass away.”
Yet Thee! The Only Pious One with me, prolong Thy stay.
If you are not fish, in water soon you will be tired,
If you have no daily bread, time shall be undesired.
For an immature man the stage of mature man is high,
So cut a long story short and say to him, “Good bye.”
Ch a p t er 12

Religious Status of Flutes

Throughout this book, flutes have often been shown to be implements of

supernatural power. As such, many flutes could also be interpreted as being
religious, because metaphysical power is commonly associated with “reli-
gious” power. They are certainly magical and, in some cases, shamanistic. In
some cultures with ancient religious beliefs, such as Persia with Sufism, India
with Hinduism, and Japan with Zen Buddhism, certain flutes have extraor-
dinarily high religious status. This chapter studies the flutes in those belief
systems, as their traditions have been expressed in oral and written literature.

The Mystic Nay in Persian Sufism

Mevlana Jalal al-Din Rumi was a Persian mystic and poet who lived from
1207 to 1273; he was born in Balkh, in today’s Afghanistan. Rumi is best
known as the founder of the Mevlana order of Sufism and as a prolific
Sufi poet, although he used his poetry “for teaching divine secrets and love
using parables.”1 Rumi’s legacy is venerated in Turkey as well as Iran and
elsewhere in the Middle East.
Rumi’s magnum opus is the Masnevi (1250–73), incorporating six vol-
umes of poetry using more than twenty-five thousand couplets. “The main
idea of Masnevi is the perfect man who loves all creations because of the
Creator,” writes Türkmen. The first eighteen verses of the Masnevi, subtitled
“The Song of the Nay (Flute),” is a type of parable in which the nay—made
from a reed (cane) that is torn and thereby separated forever from the riv-
erbed—is a metaphor for man, who is separated from God. With its music,
the nay laments its separation from its “real ground.” As a parable, the flute
is mankind, lamenting its separation from God. Türkmen explains that the
 R eligious Stat us of Flu t es 151

“real ground” is “the original ground where [the] soul of man was happy
being close to God, his creator and lover.”2
The Persian nay (Arabic nai, Turkish ney) is an end-blown flute with an
open and ductless proximal end (Olsen category 1); it is held diagonally
because it must be blown at an angle to produce a sound (see figure 1).3 Its
tone varies from extremely breathy to very pure, and the player’s breath
support is of great importance for playing long, improvised phrases and
variances of tone color, as the parable states in verse 9: “The breath to the
nay is not a simple blow, it’s fire / he who has no such fire, let him perish
and expire.” As controlled breath is the essence of the music of the nay,
impassioned breath is equated with fire, the breath of God, which is also
the essence of life itself. Indeed, as Türkmen points out, it is Rumi who
says, “Not all can feel the pain of yearning if they are unaware of God’s
breath in them.”4 This conjugal relationship of the breath for the nay with
the breath of God makes the Persian nay one of the most mystical of the
world’s musical instruments.

The Passionate Bansuri or Venu

of Lord Krishna in Hinduism
Bamboo or cane transverse flutes (Olsen category 4) in India are today
called bansuri in the northern Hindustani tradition and venu in the southern
Karnatic tradition.5 In some literary sources, Lord Krishna is said to have
played the bansuri, while in other sources Krishna’s flute is called venu or
murali.6 During the time period that relates to Lord Krishna, these flutes
were probably one and the same. Today, the preferred bansuri for Hindustani
classical music is generally longer than the preferred venu for Karnatic classi-
cal music, although both the bansuri and the venu exist in a variety of sizes.
In chapter 5, Lord Krishna, with his flute, has complete power over the
milking maids, the gods, and himself. The sexual passion of his flute is even
more obvious when he plays for Raˉdhaˉ, his beloved and betrothed. The
following excerpt is David Kinsley’s description of part of a seventeenth-
century poem by Bengali poet Vraˉja-kiśora that elaborates on the power of
Krishna’s flute:
Raˉdhaˉ was dressing herself (for going out) when the flute sounded, and it did
not stop. (Raˉdhaˉ’s) heart was overwhelmed with love: she lost control over her
actions. Her heavy tresses, already done, she combs (again): she ties the wreath
of flowers round her leg; she has lost all consideration. Her feet she paints with
collyrium, and her eyes with red-dye. She pushed naˉga-lataˉ into the cavities of
152 Ch a p t er 12

her ears. The girdle she puts on her neck, the necklace round her waist: the
anklets she fastens round her wrists and wristlets round her ankles.

Raˉdhaˉ is intoxicated with the sound of Krishna’s flute. She has lost control
and cannot dress herself properly. In another poem she exclaims how she
was thrown to the ground as if struck by lightning when she heard the first
note played by Krishna on his flute. Yet another Bengali poem explains
that all honorable women are affected by Krishna’s flute and they are as
if dragged from their homes by their hair. Even the vines that cling to the
trees are shaken loose by the magical sound of Krishna’s flute. As Kinsley
explains, the sound of Krishna’s flute “comes from another world where
this-worldly morality and conduct have no place,” and extraordinary things
in the animal and plant kingdoms occur. While this literature devoted to
Krishna’s passionate demeanor may seem to have little to do with Hinduism
as a religion, especially when it is reproduced out of context, it is important
to remember that Lord Krishna is “one of Hinduism’s favorite gods, a god
worshiped virtually throughout the entire subcontinent.”7 Lord Krishna is
seen as a youthful cowherd, a teacher, a counselor, a divine lover, and much
more. Most important, he is worshiped as an incarnation of Vishnu, the
supreme god in Hinduism.
In April 1957, on one of his visits to Venkatagiri in Andhra Pradesh,
Swami Sathya Sai Baba (also known as Divine Lord Bhagawan Sri Sathya
Sai Baba) presented his “Divine Discourse on the Great Truths of the Ma-
habarata.” In it, he explained the profound religious significance and im-
portance of Krishna’s flute, which he called by its old and perhaps more
correct term, murali. The following is an excerpt from his lengthy discourse,
published on the Internet as “Sathya Sai Speaks”:
In fact, you must each one try to become ego-less and then the Lord will ac-
cept you as His Flute. Once, when a number of people were asked by Me what
they would like to be in the hands of God, I got various answers: some said
the Lotus, some the Sankha (Conch), some the Chakra (Discus) but no one
mentioned the Murali (Flute). I would advise you to become the Murali, for
then the Lord will come to you, pick you up, put you to His lips and breathe
through you and, out of the hollowness of your heart due to the utter absence
of egoism that you have developed, He will create captivating music for all
Creation to enjoy. Be straight without any will of your own, merge your will
in the Will of God. Inhale only the breath of God. That is Divine Life that is
what I want you all to achieve.8

The great Swami Sathya Sai Baba brought to fore not only the religious
status of Krishna’s flute, but its divine status as well. “Become the murali
 R eligious Stat us of Flu t es 153

flute,” he says, because then God will come to you and “breathe through
you.” You, the flutist, he is saying, become the direct and “straight” (i.e.,
“without any will of your own”) conduit through which God will speak, not
only to you as the flutist but also to those who also hear your flute. “God
will create” through you, the flutist, “captivating music for all Creation to
enjoy.” In that way, the “passionate” flute of Lord Krishna is the “divine”
flute of God, which in Hinduism are one and the same, because Krishna is
believed to be the avatar of God.

The Meditative Shakuhachi in Zen Buddhism

Mahayana Buddhism, one of the two branches of Buddhism (the other is
Theravada Buddhism), entered Japan from Korea in the mid-sixth century
a.d.9 Throughout the eleven centuries of Japan’s “medieval” era, numerous
Buddhist schools of thought developed in Japan.10 Zen Buddhism, which
originated in China and became one of the most popular forms of Bud-
dhism in Japan, taught a return to the earlier simplicity of Buddhism that
emphasized experience and meditation over recitation of texts.11
One of the best known Japanese Zen Buddhist priests during the fifteenth
century was Ikkyuˉ-zenji, an illegitimate son of Emperor Gokumatsu and a
courtesan. He was also a shakuhachi player and poet. One of his poems,
“Shakuhachi,” a part of a larger collection of poetry called Kyoˉun Shuˉ,
provides a glimpse of the meditative side of the instrument and its ability to
influence the mind of the listener: “I think back to the priest who lived at the
Uji hermitage. He had [neither] food nor drink. The floor of his retreat was
colder than ice. The sound of his shakuhachi enveloped me in heavenly bliss
and poured comfort to my soul, wretched priest [that I am].” In 1474, at age
eighty-one, Ikkyuˉ became the head priest at Daitoku-ji (Daitoku Temple)
in Kyoto. In his acceptance speech, he recited four famous sayings of the
famous Zen priest Fuke-zenji, who was the founder of the Fuke school of
Zen Buddhism that incorporated shakuhachi playing as part of its medita-
tive practices.12
In 1518, another collection of poetry appeared called Kangin Shuˉ, whose
verses were also used as lyrics of kouta ( “short songs”) from the sixteenth
century. One of the poems from the collection, “Dengaka,” stresses the
shakuhachi’s function as meditation:
I take out the shakuhachi from beneath my sleeve,
to blow it while waiting and
The wind through the pine scatters flowers as though a dream
154 Ch a p t er 12

How much longer will I have to play

until my heart is quiet again?13

During the fifteenth through the seventeenth centuries, the shakuhachi

was used for meditation by a small number of Japanese men known as
komusoˉ or “priests of no-thingness,” who were mendicant beggar priests
of the Fuke school of Zen Buddhism. As part of their socioreligious status,
they wore large baskets (tengai) over their heads as they walked around the
streets of Edo and Kyoto playing their shakuhachi (see figure 17).14
Today, the most profound music for the shakuhachi is derived from its
earlier role in Zen Buddhism. This music is called honkyoku, which can also
mean “profound music” in addition to “original music” (see chapter 8 and
the story about “The History of the Kyotaku”). Some shakuhachi players
who were ronin or retired samurai formed religious sects or ryuˉ (“cult,”
“school,” or “sect”) in the 1700s and 1800s. One of the most important
sects is the Kinko-ryuˉ, named after its founder, Kinko Kurosawa, who lived
in the early 1700s. Kinko collected and composed about thirty-six honkyoku
pieces that are still played by shakuhachi players trained in the Kinko-ryuˉ
tradition. Kinko-ryuˉ honkyoku music is very slow and thought provoking,
or rather, thought-less provoking, which is a Zen Buddhist idea. The music
is very meditative, especially for the musician or player. When a Kinko-ryuˉ
player plays the shakuhachi, it is sometimes not thought of as playing music
but rather “blowing the bamboo.” More important than moving the fingers
quickly as in European-derived musical cultures are the many subtleties of
tone color (timbre) and dynamics that can be produced on the shakuhachi
by a talented player (see chapter 14). This approach to playing or blowing
the bamboo is one of the important essences of the musical side of Zen
Buddhism, as the simplicity of the meditative experience of blowing and
slowing down the mind is one of the ways to reach no-thingness. In this
sense, breath, breathing, and the tones produced by the breath help the
flutist to remove all outside thoughts, which is one of the physiological or
mental goals of Zen Buddhist meditation.
The concept that outside thoughts can be removed by flute performance
was scientifically proven to me in 1977 when I participated in a 1977 bio-
feedback study at Florida State University, or so I thought. While I was wired
up with electrodes attached to my forehead from an electroencephalographic
(EEG) machine, I played a traditional honkyoku piece on my shakuhachi.
The psychology teachers had never seen so much alpha-brainwave activ-
ity registering on the oscilloscope.15 We first thought it was caused by the
Buddhist-derived music that I played on my shakuhachi; however, the same
 R eligious Stat us of Flu t es 155

17. Commercial copy of a Japanese woodblock print titled “Priests of the Fuke-sect”
or “The Komusoˉ” by Wada Sanzo (1883–1967), depicting two komusoˉ or “priests of
no-thingness” (and a disapproving dog), who are playing their shakuhachi flutes for
alms in front of an establishment. Author’s collection.

results occurred when I played Debussy’s Syrinx on my Western flute. I

had played both pieces by memory with my eyes closed, and I was simply
focusing on a particular phenomenon (the music) while defocusing on other
phenomena (the audience, the electrodes, and everything around me). To end
any speculation about the cause of my alpha-brainwave activity, I played a
Turkish drum with my eyes closed, producing the same results. We finally
realized that I was producing the alpha waves, not the flute music, although
the flute music and my playing of it—including breathing, silences, and the
sounds—enabled me to defocus my thoughts. I am reminded of a narrative
by the famous shakuhachi master Watazumi Doso Roshi: “There is some-
thing deeper if you would go deeper, if you go to the source of where the
music is being made, you’ll find something more interesting. At the source,
everyone’s individual music is made. If you ask what that deep place is, it’s
156 Ch a p t er 12

your own life and it’s knowing your own life, that own way that you live.”16
While breath and breathing are certainly contributing factors in the defocus-
ing practice during meditation, it is the individual who does the defocusing
and, in the process, learns to control his or her brainwave activity.
This section concludes on the meditative Japanese shakuhachi with an-
other personal narrative about a personal musical event in 1996 while
conducting research in Peru. I was invited by the Peruvian-Japanese Cultural
Center in Lima to perform the shakuhachi during the annual Peru Koˉhaku
Uta Gassen, a Peruvian-Japanese song competition between female and male
song teams.17 About two thousand people were in the audience. This is what
I wrote that evening after the concert, as I reflected on my performance:
The microphone placement looked adequate, but different than I am used
to—straight on, rather than to the side. It could pick up too many overtones,
I thought. I began to play “Shika no Toˉne” (The distant cry of the deer), a
Japanese shakuhachi honkyoku composition from the eighteenth century. I
was free to back away from the microphone for the high notes and the loud
and breathy muraiki explosive effects, but I had constant thoughts about the
sound and even thoughts that maybe the soundman behind the board was
getting frustrated because I would back away at fortissimo points in the music
and move closer for pianissimo passages. These thoughts were not allowing
me to get into the performance, and honkyoku requires a Zen-like meditative
detachment or defocusing from everything except what needs to be focused
on. Certainly the blinding spotlight was not making it possible for me to see
the several thousand people in the theater, and furthermore, I had my eyes
closed. But, that blankety-blank microphone! “Play! Forget the microphone!” I
thought. About one-third into “Shika no Toˉne,” the emptiness came, and I was
absorbed in the music. Re-Ro (the last two notes), the piece was finished, but
in the silence, the music continued to ring in my mind (the soundless sound)
until the applause broke the spell. I bowed, held up the shakuhachi, and bowed
again, seeing no one.18

This concert was the closest experience I have ever had in a public perfor-
mance to what I believe is the essence of “blowing the bamboo” as espoused
by Watazumi, although it was but a momentary transcendental state in
which I had successfully defocused on everything around me, and I let my
playing totally absorb me. I was “drunk with [my] own art,” to paraphrase
Kasho, who wrote the following in 1956: “If one asks what was at the heart
of Kinko music, the answer of course is the solo Fuke music (honkyoku) of
the original Kurosawa Kinko. It was in his music that Kinko survived, but
that music, while it was eminently successful at making the player drunk
with his own art, was too poor both in form and in content to move the
 R eligious Stat us of Flu t es 157

listener.”19 I totally disagree with Kasho about the inability of the honkyoku
music of the Kinko-ryuˉ shakuhachi tradition to move the listener, although I
completely agree that the playing of it can make the player totally absorbed
with his/her own art when played within a proper context. It is meditative
music par excellence if the performer is able to successfully defocus on
everything but blowing the bamboo.

Judeo-Christian Bible “Flutes” and Jesus’s Shepherd Flutes

References to three particular aerophones being flutes are questionable in
most translations of the Bible because it is often unclear what types of
instruments the original Hebrew terms used in the Old Testament and the
Greek terms used in the New Testament are referring to. All of the musi-
cal instruments mentioned in the Bible have been thoroughly studied by
numerous twentieth-century scholars,20 who all agree about the following
three aerophones that are usually translated into many languages as “flute”:
haˉlîl, ‘ûgaˉb, and aulós. In this last section of the chapter about the religious
status of flutes, it is relevant to consider these biblical instruments that have
so often been questionably and even erroneously translated as “flutes.” How
important are these aerophones, and what are their roles in the Old and
New Testaments?
The Old Testament, written in Hebrew, is a rich source of information
about the musical cultures of ancient Israel/Palestine, and many musical
instruments are mentioned, including the haˉlîl, the Hebrew word for a
type of shepherd’s “flute,” and the ‘ugaˉb, ûgab, or ‘ugaˉbh, a Hebrew word
that may be a flute, although scholars do not know exactly what type of
instrument it is.21 The New Testament, written in Greek, however, mentions
musical instruments only twenty-nine times, and only one instrument is
translated as flute, aulós (singular and auloi, plural), the Greek word for a
double-tubed oboe.22
The earliest story in the Old Testament that mentions a type of flute is
about the Biblical father of musical instruments, Jubal, in Genesis 4:20–21:
20: Adah gave birth to Jabal, who was the father of those who live in tents
and raise livestock. 21: His brother’s name was Jubal, who was the father of
all who handle the harp and pipe.23

Without knowing the original Hebrew texts for the Old Testament, it is
virtually impossible to know precisely which instruments are referred to in
the various translations. Perhaps the best-known passage in the Bible that
mentions music is Psalm 150 by David:
158 Ch a p t er 12

1: Praise Yah!
Praise God in his sanctuary!
Praise him in his heavens for his acts of power!
2: Praise him for his mighty acts!
Praise him according to his excellent greatness!
3: Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet!
Praise him with harp and lyre!
4: Praise him with tambourine and dancing!
Praise him with stringed instruments and flute!
5: Praise him with loud cymbals!
Praise him with resounding cymbals!
6: Let everything that has breath praise Yah!
Praise Yah!24

Although the World English Bible uses the term “flute” in verse 4, the follow-
ing translations of Psalm 150, verse 4, have a variety of musical instrument
terms for the original Hebrew ‘ugâb:
Latin: “Laudate eum in tympano et choro laudate eum in cordis et
organo.”
(Biblia Sacra Vulgata)
Italian: “Lodatelo con timpani e danze, lodatelo sulle corde e sui flauti.”
(“Conferenza Episcopale Italiana”)
Spanish: “Alabadle con pandero y danza; alabadle con instrumentos de
cuerda y flauta.”
(“La Biblia de las Americas”)
French: “Louez-le avec des danses et au son des tambourins! Louez-le
avec la lyre et avec la flûte!”
(“La Bible du Semeur”)
French: “Louez-le avec le tambourin et la danse! Louez-le avec des
instruments à cordes et le chalumeau!”
(“Darby”)
French: “Louez-le avec le tambour et la flûte; louez-le sur l’épinette,
et sur les orgues.”
(“Martin 1744”)
English: “Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with
stringed instruments and organs.”
(“King James Version”)
English: “Praise Him with timbrels and dancing. Praise Him with
strings and horns.”
(“New Life Version”)
 R eligious Stat us of Flu t es 159

English: “Praise him with timbrel and dance: Praise him with stringed
instruments and pipe.”
(“American Standard Version”)
English: “Praise him with drums and dancing. Praise him with harps
and flutes.”
(“Good News Translation”)
English: “Praise ye him with a tympan, or a drum, and a dance. Praise
ye him with a tambourine, and dancing; praise ye him with strings
and an organ.”
(“Wycliffe Bible”)
English: “Praise him with tambourines and dancing, with stringed
instruments and woodwinds.”
(“Contemporary English Version”)
English: “Praise Him with timbrel and dance, Praise Him with stringed
instruments and organ.”
(“Young’s Literal Translation”)
German: “Lobet ihn mit Pauken und Reigen; lobet ihn mit Saiten und
Pfeifen!”
(“Luther Bibel 1545”)
German: “Lobet ihn mit Tamburin und Reigen; lobet ihn mit
Saitenspiel und Schalmei!”
(“Elberfelder 1871”)
Creole: “Lwanj pou li ak tanbou! Danse pou fè lwanj li! Lwanj pou li
ak gita ak vaksen!”
(“Haitian Creole Version”)25

The various translations of ‘ugâb include “flute,” “horns,” “organ,” “pipe,”

“reed pipe,” “shawm,” “vaksen,” and “woodwinds,” and there are undoubt-
edly many more, given the many translations of the Bible into English and
a multitude of other languages. Of the above terms, the Vulgate (first Latin
Bible) translates the original Hebrew ‘ugâb as “organ,” which may refer to
a type of water organ that existed in ancient Rome. The nondescript term
“pipe,” the translation of the German Pfeifen, is a safe bet because it refers
only to the shape of the instrument. The similar words Schalmei (German)
and chalumeau (French) are “shawm” and “reed pipe,” respectively. The
most interesting is the Haitian Creole term vaksen, which literally means
“syringe” (for vaccinations), but refers to long, single-note bamboo trumpets
of various sizes played in alternation (interlocking parts) in Haiti during vari-
ous events, such as rara (festive street processions) and konbit (communal
field labor). In spite of the many translations of the Hebrew term, the mes-
160 Ch a p t er 12

sage is the same: to praise the Lord with musical instruments. Each culture
has its particular instruments for serving that purpose. Curt Sachs raises
another interesting point about the use of the “flute” in the Bible when he
explains that the term ‘ugaˉb is very similar in pronunciation to the Hebrew
word ‘agáb, which means “was in love,” relating the ‘ugaˉb linguistically to
it being a love-charm flute.26
Neither the haˉlîl nor the ‘ugâb is mentioned in the original Greek of the
New Testament, of course, because it is written in Greek rather than Hebrew,
although the terms “flute” and “pipe” are found as English translations of
auloi (double oboes),27 as in the following passage from Matthew 9:23–26:
23: When Jesus came into the ruler’s house, and saw the flute players, and the
crowd in noisy disorder, 24: he said to them, “Make room, because the girl isn’t
dead, but sleeping.” They were ridiculing him [or, they laughed at him]. 25: But
when the crowd was put out, he entered in, took her by the hand, and the girl
arose. 26: The report of this went out into all that land.28

The single-tubed, double-reed-concussion aerophone (oboe) known as aulós

in Greek (or two of them played by a single musician, known as auloi in
its plural form)—or tibia and tibiae in Latin—was an important musical
instrument for making loud lamentations during funerals in the Middle
East during biblical times, and as many of the translations of this passage
in Matthew suggest, what Jesus heard was funeral music being wailed
and played by professional mourners, including players of auloi that were
making up the noisy crowd. Indeed, the auloi and other oboes or shawms
like them are often noisy outdoor instruments used in many parts of the
world for auspicious occasions and events, such as weddings, funerals, and
processions. They are not tranquil and meditative instruments like the flutes
of Rumi, Krishnu, Zen Buddhism, or the silver flute occasionally played
as a meditative musical expression in modern American funerals, and it is
unfortunate that the many English translations of Matthew 9:23 give the
erroneous impression that what Jesus heard were flutes rather than oboes.
Indeed, as I have said before and will say again in this book’s conclusion,
whistle sounds are totally different from buzzy sounds, and they generally
have very different uses and functions within traditional contexts. In the
Old and New Testaments, flutes, with their whistle tones, are instruments
of life, fertility, love, and its extension prostitution, while oboes, with their
buzz tones, often signify death, lamenting, and the afterlife. It is a total
mistake to call the instruments that Jesus heard “flutes,” as recorded in
the English and other translations of Matthew 9:23, rather than “oboes.”
In the context of the Bible, flutes would not symbolize that the girl was
 R eligious Stat us of Flu t es 161

actually dead, whereas double oboes would. Jesus raised the girl from the
dead, and the fact that auloi were playing their wailing and lamenting
melodies signifies that she was indeed dead. The passage that Jesus spoke,
“the girl isn’t dead, but sleeping,” is a euphemism that makes Jesus’s act
even more miraculous.
In world flutelore, Jesus is rarely mentioned. One important exception,
however, is the following legend from Hungary about the origin of shepherd
flutes that is attributed to Jesus:
Long ago, when our Lord Jesus Christ walked in the world with St. Peter, the
behaviors of the sheep and the pigs were just the opposite of what they are
today: the pigs were very placid animals, while the sheep ran around as quickly
and restlessly as the pigs do nowadays.
One day, when the weather was very warm, Jesus and Peter met a swineherd
who was lying beneath a tree of plums, waiting for a great plum to fall into his
open mouth. His pigs were lying around him quietly. Peter said to the swineherd:
“Good morning. Can you show us where there is a spring? We are very thirsty
in this hot weather.”
“I won’t get up for your sake, but I ask you to put a plum into my mouth
because I am very hungry,” answered the lazy swineherd. Then he indicated a
direction by moving his leg.
Jesus and Peter left him and approached a shepherd who was chasing after
his sheep that were running quickly all around the field.
“Hello, could you guide us to a spring?” asked Peter and Jesus of the shepherd.
“Yes, I could, but I cannot leave my sheep because they will run away without
me to watch over them,” the shepherd answered.
“Leave your animals, show us the spring, and you will find your flock when
you return,” said Jesus.
The shepherd guided Jesus and Peter to the spring, gave water to them in his
own cup, and also drank after they had finished.
Then Jesus spoke to the kind shepherd:
“Henceforth, the sheep will be very placid animals and you will no longer
need to hurry after them. Listen to me and do the following: You will find a
great elderberry bush beside your flock, and you will find three straight branches
in that bush. Cut off those branches and bore them out with a drill to make
them hollow. Then make six finger holes and a sound hole [a sound-making
window] along the top of each tube, put plugs into their upper ends, and blow
into the tubes which are known as flutes. These you can play while you walk
quietly with your flock of sheep.”
The shepherd followed Jesus’ instructions and made the first flutes. From
that moment on, pigs became very stroppy, requiring the swineherds to run
after them a lot. Sheep, however, became very placid, giving the shepherds lots
of free time to play their flutes.29
162 Ch a p t er 12

This Hungarian legend is unique in flutetale oral literature. Yet, it is well

known that many shepherds around the world play flutes to pass their time
while watching their flocks of sheep. Perhaps in European and Mediterra-
nean cultures where sheep are commonly tended to by shepherds who play
flutes is metaphorically related to the biblical passage in John 10:27, when
Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow
me.” Perhaps the belief in Hungary is that when the sheep hear the voice of
the shepherd’s flute, they know the shepherd and follow him.

The next chapter presents additional material about the socioreligious status
of flutes and flutists by carefully looking at the roles and behaviors of flute
musicians from members of the lowest classes of society to those from the
nobility.
Story 13

How the Noble

Fujiwara no Yasumasa
Faced Down the Bandit
Hakamadare
Japan

Now a long time ago there was in the world a great bandit called Haka-
madare. He was a man without match in the realm, bold of heart and great
in strength, swift of foot, skilled of hand, and wise in judgment. His trade
consisted of stealthily seeking his opportunity and robbing innumerable
men of their possessions. It was about the tenth month, and he had need
of a robe, so he went searching about in likely places with a view to laying
his hands on some. It was midnight, and everyone was settled in sleep. The
moon was drowned in cloud, and along the great highway was walking a
man wearing plenty of clothes. He had on an elegant dress that seemed to
be a silk hunting costume and also hakama that appeared to be sashinuki
hitched up from the bottom by cords.* He was all alone, nonchalantly
strolling along and playing a flute.

*Kariginu, hunting dress, was a formal Court costume by this time. The robe
was round-collared and had draw-strings on the flowing sleeves. Sashinuki, the
hakama worn with this costume, were so long that the wearer would tread on the
legs if they were not hitched up by strings (kukuri) at the bottom, as they were in
this case.

William Ritchie Wilson, “The Way of the Bow and Arrow: The Japanese Warrior
in Konjaku Monogatari.” Originally published in Monumenta Nipponica 28, no.
2 (1973) , 211–12.
164 Story 13

On seeing this, Hakamadare thought, “Good, good! Here is a man made

to order to provide me with some robes.” So he delightedly ran after him,
intending to knock him down and strip off his clothes. But strange though it
may seem, he felt that the man was somehow terrifying, and he went along
with him for two or three hundred yards. As the man still went on playing
his flute without any sign of being aware that somebody was on his trail,
Hakamadare decided to make an attempt and ran after him making his
footsteps loud. But when he noticed that the man did not even look back
while playing his flute, Hakamadare felt that he just could not do it, and so
he ran and dodged away.
He tried in this way many times, from this side and that, but since the man
made no sign of being in the least agitated, Hakamadare went along with
him for more than half a mile, thinking that this must be an extraordinary
man. But then saying to himself, “I can’t leave it at this,” Hakamadare drew
his sword and rushed at him. At this point the man stopped blowing his
flute, turned, and stood there. “What kind of person are you?” he asked.
Now to run after a mere man alone like this should not be such a terrifying
thing, even though it might be if he were a devil or a god. But as regards
this case, thought Hakamadare, “How it is I’ve lost both heart and guts and
feel frightened to death—it’s not my fault, I’ve been overwhelmed.” When
the man asked again, “What kind of person are you?” the bandit realized
that, try as he might, he probably would not be able to escape, and so he
answered, “I’m a clothes robber. My name, with respect, is Hakamadare.” At
that the man merely replied, “I’ve heard that in the world there is a person
called that. What an extraordinary rascal! Come along with me.” He then
continued on in the same way, playing his flute.
Observing the composure of the man, Hakamadare felt fear and awe.
“He’s not a mere man,” he thought as he went along with his senses numbed
as if he had been overcome by a supernatural being. As they continued along,
the man entered the gate of a big house, and when he went up on the porch
still wearing his shoes, Hakamadare realized that he must be the master of
the house.* The man went inside, then came out and, calling Hakamadare
over, gave him a thick cotton robe. “From now on, when you need this
sort of thing, come here,” he said. “Don’t get into trouble by running after
someone who doesn’t know human feelings.” He then went inside.

*Hakamadare knew that the man was master of the house because he did not
remove his shoes before going up.
 How Yasum asa Faced Dow n H a k a m a da r e 165

As he thought about this, Hakamadare become aware that the house

belonged to Yasumasa,* the Former Governor of Settsu. When he realized
that this was the man, he went out feeling as if he had died and was no
longer alive. Hakamadare was later captured, and he remarked about the
incident, “What an impression he gave me of an extraordinarily forbidding
and terrifying man!”

*Settsu no Zenji Yasumasa . . . , husband of the famous poetess and diarist, Izumi
Shikibu. . . . His official career included governorships of Hizen, Yamato, Tango
and Settsu and directorship of the Left Horse Bureau; he is also recorded as a
household official of the greatest Fujiwaras, Michinaga and Yorimichi. He died in
1036 at the age of 79 years.
Ch a p t er 13

Socioreligious Status
of Flute Musicians

Because the flute is a ubiquitous musical instrument, much can be learned

about the socioreligious status of flute musicians in many regions of the
world. As a way to begin this chapter, it is useful to consider the status of
certain musical instruments and musicians in European-derived cultures,
about which European-derived individuals seem to claim certain knowledge,
although much of it is stereotypical. Here, for example, are some common
musical-instrument stereotypes in Western civilization:
• The violin is a celestial instrument—it is played by angels in heaven, ac-
cording to religious art in Catholic churches and museums;
• The violin and the guitar, and the skill to play them, require a meeting
with the devil, in a churchyard or at a crossroads, at midnight, as ex-
plained by Alan Lomax;1
• The harp is a sacred instrument, and biblical passages mention the harp
as the instrument of David, meaning it has divine attributes; Mark Twain
wrote that in heaven, “[E]very person is playing on a harp—those millions
and millions!—whereas not more than twenty in the thousand of them
could play an instrument in the earth, or ever wanted to”;2
• The accordion is the instrument of the devil, according to Gary Larson’s
Far Side cartoon of death’s gatekeeper greeting a righteous person, “Wel-
come to Heaven, here’s your harp,” and to a sinner, “Welcome to Hell,
here’s your accordion”;3
• The flute is a girl’s instrument and is for sissies, according to Lee Dye, re-
ferring to research by Repacholi and Pickering, and Dye states the follow-
ing common stereotype found in American schools: “Flute, violin, clarinet
and cello are considered feminine, and drums, saxophone, trumpet and
trombone are classified as male”;4 and, as we flutists know,
• All flutists are soloist wannabes.
 Socior eligious Stat us of Flu t e Musici a ns 167

As shown in the previous twelve chapters of this book, in many parts of

the world, flutes are not for sissies, and flutists are not sissies; more often,
in fact, flutes and flutists are magical, noble, powerful, godlike, and even
supernatural entities, as many of the folktales have revealed. This chapter
specifically looks at the socioreligious status of flutists in a global context,
according to ethnology and mythology.

Flutists as Noblemen
The hero of the above Japanese narrative (story 13), “How the Noble Fu-
jiwara no Yasumasa Faced Down the Bandit Hakamadare,” is a nobleman
because the title tells us so. In addition, the story describes many characteris-
tics about Fujiwara no Yasumasa: He is a flutist; he shows no fear; he wears
elegant, heavy, and abundant clothing; he does not remove his shoes when
he enters his house, meaning he is the master of his house; he is forgiving;
he is generous; he is patient; he is “forbidding and terrifying” to the robber;
he is, in fact, the former governor of the region. The footnotes to this story
clarify many of these details with facts. This nobleman was very famous in
his day, as the third footnote explains: His full name was “Settsu no Zenji
Yasumasa . . . , husband of the famous poetess and diarist, Izumi Shikibu.
. . . His official career included governorships of Hizen, Yamato, Tango,
and Settsu and directorship of the Left Horse Bureau; he is also recorded
as a household official of the greatest Fujiwaras, Michinaga, and Yorimichi.
He died in 1036 at the age of seventy-nine years.” Such historical detail is
unusual for folklore, and this narrative is an example of folklore as history,
or, perhaps, “historic-lore,” although some may call this mythology. As flu-
telore, however, this story does not provide many details other than it is an
excellent example of a flutist as a nobleman, an individual who has, in fact,
even become godlike, as the narrative explains: “Observing the composure of
the man, Hakamadare felt fear and awe. ‘He’s not a mere man,’ he thought
as he went along with his senses numbed as if he had been overcome by a
supernatural being.” Indeed, many of the folktales presented in this book
include flutist heroes and heroines who are spiritual and powerful to the
point of being gods. Some, in fact, are gods.
“Gentlemen” (the same as “noblemen”) are venerated as flutists in me-
dieval Japan by some, especially courtesans. Sei Shoˉnagon (b. 965) was a
courtesan, specifically a lady-in-waiting to the Empress Sadako, in the 990s.
She was also a gifted writer whose book The Pillow Book was written about
the same time as The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu. The Pillow Book
168 Ch a p t er 13

is divided into 185 short sections that are like personal vignettes. In section
120, “Wind Instruments,” she writes the following about the Japanese flute
and gentlemen flute players:
There is nothing so charming as a man who always carries a flute when he goes
out on horseback or on foot. Though he keeps the flute tucked in his robe and
one cannot actually see it, one enjoys knowing it is there.
I particularly like hearing familiar tunes played on a flute. It is also very
pleasant at dawn to find that a flute had been left next to one’s pillow by a
gentleman who has been visiting one; presently he sends a messenger to fetch
the instrument and, when one gives it to him carefully wrapped up, it looks
like an elegant next-morning letter.5

The gentleman’s or nobleman’s flute gives Sei Shoˉnagon great pleasure, and
her use of double entendre seems obvious; she was, after all, a courtesan
writing about her “pillowing” experiences. Upon seeing a man on horseback
or on foot, as she comments, she knows he keeps his flute tucked away in
his robe where it cannot be seen; nevertheless, she derives great pleasure
from knowing it is there next to him.

Flutists as Sacrificial Victims

In late postclassic Mesoamerica (1350–1521 a.d.) among the Nahuatl
speakers or Aztecs, some flutists had very high socioreligious status; the
result of their religious devotions, however, was death by sacrifice, which
was considered highly honorable in Aztec culture. To call these flutists “vic-
tims,” therefore, is somewhat of an ethnocentric injustice, because they were
seen as “winners” rather than “losers” by the Aztecs. The Spanish colonial
chronicler and Catholic priest, Fray Bernardino Sahagún, wrote about the
high social status and ritual importance of these flutists and their flutes
in his Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España (General history of
the things about New Spain [i.e., Mexico]), also known as the Florentine
Codex. Each year, a young man was taught to impersonate the Aztec god
Tezcatlipoca (whose various names translate as “Smoking Mirror,” the “Lord
of Everywhere,” the “god of gods,” and, perhaps, others). The young man
was dressed like the god and taught to play the flute, whereupon he was
sacrificed by the Aztec priests during the festival or ritual of Tóxcatl (month
of the dry season), as Sahagún describes in volume I, chapter 24, “About
the festival called Tóxcatl that was held in the fifth month of the calendar
(this month began on May 17, according to Clavijero)”:
 Socior eligious Stat us of Flu t e Musici a ns 169

The Aztecs called the fifth month Tóxcatl. In that month they held a festival
in honor of their principal god named Tezcatlipoca (who was also known as
Tlitacaoan, Yautl, Telpuchtli, and Tlamatzincatl). During this Festival of Tóxcatl
they sacrificed a young man whose disposition was highly regarded, and whom
they had luxuriously groomed for an entire year and made into the image of
Tezcatlpoca. Following the sacrificial death of the young man, who was pre-
sented as a gift after a year as Tezcatlpoca’s impersonator, they chose another
gentle young man to take his place to be carefully groomed and trained for the
next year. During these periods each chosen young man had many caretakers
or calpixques who guarded him well and diligently made him comfortable. He
was so well taken care of that one could say he had no bodily discomforts.
The young man who was reared to be sacrificed in the Festival of Tóxcatl
was instructed with great care. He was taught to excel in playing flute, smoking
pipes, and carrying flowers, as according to the custom among the nobility. He
was taught to properly stroll, playing his flute, inhaling the smoke from his pipe,
and smelling the flowers, as was the custom of the nobility and other people
of the royal courts. He was also taught the proper ways to greet the people he
would meet in the streets, and other attributes of having good manners. All who
saw this young man who was singled out to die during the Festival of Tóxcatl
held him in great esteem and worshiped him by kissing the earth.
While the chosen young man was free to walk around the entire village all
day and night, he was always accompanied by eight pages dressed in the manner
of those from a palace. The caretakers dressed him with curious and precious
ornaments, making him in the image of their god. They ornamented his whole
body and face, covering his head with white chicken feathers that were adhered
with resin, making it appear that his hair was rising up in a peak.
After having dressed him in rich ornaments, they put a garland of flowers
called izquixuchitl around his neck and a long string of flowers that stretched
from his shoulders to his armpits. They put golden ornaments in his ear lobes
and a string of precious stones around his neck. They hung a white precious
stone around his neck that hung to his chest. They put an elaborate crown on
his head made from seashells. On his back he wore an ornament like a square
handbag made from white canvas with tassels and brocades. They put golden
bracelets around his biceps and strings of precious stones called macuextli
around his wrists, which covered his forearms up to his elbows.
They covered him with a rich cloak that was woven like a net, with strange
brocades along its edges. They also used a strange piece of canvas they called
maxtlatl to cover his lower body. The ends of the maxtlatl were very well crafted
and quite wide, about the same as the complete width of the canvas, and they
hung from the front part of the maxlatl, almost to the young man’s knees. They
also suspended golden bells from his legs, which made sounds whenever and
wherever he went. In this manner the Aztecs dressed and adorned their chosen
sacrificial young man for the beginning of the year prior to the Festival.
170 Ch a p t er 13

Twenty days before the Festival of Tóxcatl began, they gave him new and
less pompous clothing, bathed him in a dye, cut his hair in the manner of the
Captains, and put a tassel on his crown and two tassels called aztaxelli in his
hair, which were made of feathers and gold.
Then they married him to four young maidens, with whom he had conver-
sations for the remaining twenty days of his life. His four young wives were
also adorned with many ornaments to increase their affect, and were given the
names of four goddesses: Xochiquetzatl, Xilonen, Atlatonan, and Vixtocioatl.
Five days before the Festival of Tóxcatl began and before he was to be sac-
rificed, the young man was honored like a god. . . . Everyone in the court feted
him and gave him solemn banquets, dances, and many rich ornaments. During
the first day of his final five days the nobility held a celebration in the village
called Tecanman. During the second day they celebrated where the image of
Tezcatlipoca was guarded. A third celebration was on a small hill, and a fourth,
called Tepetzinco, was in the lagoons of Ilquioa, Antlalpia, Antlalcuya, Inicont-
lalpia, Itoci, and on another small hill that is also in a lagoon, called Tepepulco.
After the fourth celebratory day, they placed him in a canoe that the King
himself used, . . . and with his wives and pages he sailed towards a place called
Tlapizaoaian, which is close to the field of Iztapalapan, near Chalco, where
there is a small hill called Acaquilpan or Olcoaltepec. There he left his wives
who returned to the city. The only people who accompanied him were the eight
pages that had been with him throughout the entire year.
On the next day, the day of the Festival of Tóxcatl, they washed the young
man by a small and poorly arranged temple that was at the side of the road and
away from the populated areas, about a league or so in distance from the city.
Arriving at the base of the temple stairs, the young man climbed up the steps by
himself. On the first step he broke one of his flutes that he had played during his
time of prosperity. On the second step he broke another flute into pieces, and on
the next step he broke another. In that way he ended all his doubts on the steps.
Arriving to the very top of the temple, the priests were there waiting to kill
him. Taking the young man and placing him down upon the slab of stone, and
taking him by his legs, his hands, and by his head, spreading his back over a
stone slab, the priest who had the stone knife buried it deep into the young
man’s chest with a hard blow. After twisting the knife and removing it, the
priest reached his hand into the gaping incision he had made with his knife
and tore out the young man’s heart. Later he offered the heart to the sun. The
body was not thrown down the steps like the flutes were; instead, four men
took it and lowered it into the courtyard where they cut off the young man’s
head and stuck it on the end of a pole called txompantli. Thus ended the life of
this unfortunate young man who had been given gifts and had been honored
during the space of a year.
It is said that this entire ritual signified the following: those who have riches
and delights during life, are going to have poverty and pain in death.6
 Socior eligious Stat us of Flu t e Musici a ns 171

A drawing from the Florentine Codex of Bernardino Sahagún (see figure 18)

shows how the young man who is the personification of Tezcatlipoca smashed
his flutes by throwing them down onto the steps from the top of a temple
before being sacrificed.
What is the significance of this Aztec tradition of human sacrifice? Sa-
hagún, basing his information on his Aztec informants, seems to suggest
that the ritual of Toxcatl is a parallel to and physical acting out of Christ’s
teaching about the evils of earthly riches (Sahagún was, after all, a Christian
missionary), as in the following words of Sahagún and his informants, as
they appear in a source by Carrasco: “And this betokened our life on earth.

18. Young male impersonator of the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca being sac-
rificed atop a temple during the ritual of Tóxcatl after smashing his ce-
ramic flutes on the temple steps. A modern drawing by Arnd Adje Both
of a picture from the sixteenth-century Florentine Codex of Bernardino
de Sahagún. Used with permission.
172 Ch a p t er 13

For he who rejoiced, who possessed riches, who sought, who esteemed our
lord’s sweetness, his fragrance—richness, prosperity—thus ended in great
misery. Indeed it was said: ‘No one on earth went exhausting happiness,
riches, wealth.’”7
What then do the flutes, flute playing, and the physical breaking of the
flutes by the player himself signify? Not only is a painful death the end of
the happiness on earth but the flute also symbolizes all that is humanly and
spiritually powerful, as Carrasco explains: “The sound of the flute, as with
the word, depends on the exhalation of the breath or, in Nahua thought,
the soul.”8 Therefore, the soul of the sacrificial victim who represented the
“god of gods” is forever lost with his death and by his own breaking of the
flutes that represented his soul. Furthermore, the particular Aztec ceramic
duct flute (Olsen category 3) performed by the young impersonator of
Tezcatlipoca is called a “flower flute” because it has a flared distal end that
represents a flower blossom. Furthermore, the flower (xochitl in Nahual,
the language of the Aztecs) symbolizes beauty, blood offering, and music,
according to Arnd Adje Both:
Indeed, the heart of a deity impersonator itself was compared to a flower,
metaphorically “plucked” and offered in ritual human sacrifice. Analogously the
impersonator “plucked” the flutes before his own death, as symbolized in break-
ing the bells from the tube over the stairway and leaving them as undamaged as
possible. This act of ritual destruction is clearly evident by organological data
and could be interpreted as a process of transformation into the spiritual realm.9

Among the Aztecs, music was nearly inseparable from religion. The noted
musicologist and Latin Americanist Robert M. Stevenson concludes from a
thorough study of the Spanish chroniclers and other eyewitnesses that the
Aztecs honored musicians, certain musical instruments, and, especially, flutes
were considered divine, and music was closely linked to religion, ritual, and
ceremony.10

Flutists of Low Social Status

The large number of flutists that could be considered of low social status
includes rural folk, such as peasant farmers, shepherds, oxherds (or cow-
herders), and swineherds. However, such “low class” distinctions are often
a Western concept, because even Krishna took the form of a flute-playing
shepherd, and Krishna was a god. Likewise, the term “poor class” is often
a value judgment because lack of economic fortitude does not always make
a person poor; subsistence farmers, for example, may be “wealthy” in their
 Socior eligious Stat us of Flu t e Musici a ns 173

own right. Many of the stories in this book feature flute-playing heroes
or main characters that could be considered to be of low social status or
peasants, especially when compared to people of high social status or “up-
per class,” such as urbanites, noblemen, and royalty. Surprisingly, “middle
class” people, such as merchants, day workers, landlords, and the like, are
seldom flutists in folklore.
Often, peasants who play the flute achieve magical powers through their
instrument, as Géza Róheim explains: “[I]n one of Grimm’s tales we are told
of a hind [peasant] who, with his flute-playing, compels a Jew to dance in
a thornbush till he fairly goes crazy. When, in punishment for the deed, he
is about to be executed, the hind begs as a last favor to be allowed to play
on his flute; whereby he makes all those around him, people, headsmen and
judges, dance furiously, until they promise to spare his life.” In this sense, the
peasant’s flute and his flute playing provide magical protection in addition to
initially causing mischief. In many flutetales, the flutist begs to play his flute
one last time before being put to death, and in so doing, he escapes from
the danger he is in because of the flute’s or the flute music’s magical spell,
which usually causes people and animals to dance uncontrollably. Róheim
comments about another European folktale, “The Devil’s Flute” from Rus-
sia: “[T]he instrument helps a swineherd to become the son-in-law of the
Tsar. In this case, too, it brings him to the foot of the gallows, because he
compelled the senators who were envious of his good fortune to dance in
a hawthorn thicket till exhausted; but he gets out of the scrape in the usual
way”—that is, probably by playing his magical flute.11
In medieval Japan, Buddhist priests were outside that country’s class
system.12 However, an occasional flutist in Japan during the tenth through
the sixteenth century who was considered to be of low social status was a
blind beggar priest of a tradition known as biwa hoˉshi. Although biwa hoˉshi
were renowned for playing the biwa—a pear-shaped lute—to accompany
their recitations of the Heiki Monogatari stories, a drawing from a medieval
Japanese source shows a type of shakuhachi and a panpipe on the ground in
front of a particular biwa-playing beggar.13 Riley Lee describes this drawing
and the significance of the shakuhachi during the Japanese medieval period:
[A] drawing of the shakuhachi of this period can be found in the book Nana-
jûichiban shokunin uta awase (. . . a collection of seventy-one craftmen’s songs),
written by Tosa no Mitsunobu . . . sometime between 1504 and 1521. This
picture depicts what is called a biwa hoˉshi (. . . a biwa playing priest, typi-
cally blind) performing in the usual kneeling position. In front of him on the
ground can be seen his wooden clogs and walking staff, a set of panpipes and
a shakuhachi (Ueno 1984:148). The biwa hoˉshi are most famous for their per-
174 Ch a p t er 13

formances during the Kamakura era of the epic tales of the Heike Monogatari
. . . and may have used the shakuhachi [to perform] preludes or interludes to
their recitation[s] of the Heike stories.14

Although the biwa hoˉshi are somewhere within the hierarchy of Buddhist
holy men, they were also considered to be of a lower status than other
Japanese individuals because of their blindness, the fact that they were poor
beggars, and, perhaps of most relevance, because they were entertainers.
More evidence that certain biwa hoˉshi and other beggar priests-cum-
entertainers played flutes has been presented by Susan Matisoff in her book
The Legend of Semimaru, Blind Musician of Japan. Semimaru was a poet-
musician from the tenth century who was born blind. He was also a priest
and the subject of a noˉ play titled Semimaru, composed by Zeami in the
fifteenth century, and numerous other Semimaru plays for bunraku and ka-
buki from the Tokugawa period (1600–1868). Semimaru, the main character,
however, does not play flute in any of the plays that carry his name. Yet,
the first part of his name, “semi,” glossed as “cicada,” has significance for
flutes and other musical instruments during the tenth century, as Matisoff
writes: “We know of a koto [zither] called semikiyo ‘cicada pure,’ flutes
called semiore ‘surpassing the cicada’ and kosemi ‘little cicada,’ and even
of a flute called semimaru.”15 Nevertheless, no mention of a flute appears
in any of Semimaru’s poetry, nor do any of the later plays include a flute as
a part of the story lines. Furthermore, while Semimaru the poet-cum-priest
may have been of low social status, the Semimaru of the later dramatic
works of noˉ, bunraku, and kabuki, is portrayed as being a blind prince.
Throughout much of East Asia (China, Korea, and Japan) and conti-
nental Southeast Asia (especially Vietnam), seemingly low-class oxherds
are depicted in numerous religious paintings playing the transverse flute
(Olsen category 4) while riding an ox or usually a water buffalo. In these
paintings referred to as “oxherding pictures,” a boy or young man flutist
is depicted in the sixth painting in a series of ten ox-herding allegories
pertaining to Ch’an (Chinese term) or Zen (Japanese term) Buddhism; the
sixth painting is titled “Riding the Ox [or Bull] Home.” Beginning in ca.
800 a.d. in China and throughout the Sung Dynasty [960–1279], many
versions of oxherding drawings and paintings were used by Buddhist priests
to explain the way to controlling one’s mind leading to enlightenment. The
most common drawings were done by K’uo-an Shih-yuan, a Chinese Ch’an
(Zen) Buddhist master of the Lin-chi school in the twelfth century. Figure
19 is from a painting in the Shin Hung Sa Temple at Sorakdong, City of
Sok-cho, Kangwon Province, Republic of Korea; it is one of ten paintings
that adorn the entire outer perimeter of that Buddhist temple.
 Socior eligious Stat us of Flu t e Musici a ns 175

19. A Boy playing a flute astride an ox, from a painting in Shin Hung Sa Temple,
Sorakdong, City of Sok-cho, Kangwon Province, Republic of Korea. Photograph
by Dale A. Olsen, 2009.

Ten poems by the twelfth-century Chinese master Kakuan provide the

foundation and inspiration for the Ch’an Buddhist teachings that are as-
sociated with the artwork. The poem relating to number 6, “Riding the Ox
Home,” is the only one that includes the flute of the oxherd. Two nearly
identical translations of the sixth poem follow; they are “Riding the Bull
Home” by Andrew Rooke and “Riding the Ox Home” by Reverend Eshin:
Mounting the bull [ox], slowly I return homeward.
The voice of my flute intones through the evening.
Measuring with hand-beats the pulsating harmony,
I direct the endless rhythm.
Whoever hears this melody will join me.16

Rooke interprets this sixth poem:

Riding the ox indicates assimilating one’s outer self with the inner nature. Play-
ing the flute indicates following the inner voice or music of the intuition in a
similar way as Krishna is often pictured holding a flute. Flute and hands join in
176 Ch a p t er 13

harmony with the universal symphony of infinity as we return to our spiritual

home, outer and inner self united in this journey. The radiant presence of such
an enlightened person in the world may eventually inspire millions who are
struggling on the road behind; or as Buddhist poets would say, flowers come
naturally into bloom as such a sage walks in the garden.17

Reverend Eshin writes, “The ox, of course, is our mind. It must be trained
not to wander off into distracting, discursive thoughts. It must be trained
to align with the Dharma and so become pure.”18 In another explanation
of the sixth drawing, Master Sheng-yen states:
“Riding the ox home,” the sixth picture, shows an ox well trained and obedi-
ent, familiar with the way. The ox herder rides effortlessly on its back, playing
a flute. This is the first Bhumi position, or forty-first stage of Bodhisattvahood.
The practitioner no longer needs conscious effort to continue to practice and
make vows. The ox simply continues forward on the path. The practitioner’s
actions are appropriate to each situation.19

None of the authors who write about the oxherd pictures discusses the
significance of the flute itself or the oxherd who plays it. There was undoubt-
edly some significance about them, however, in the minds of the artists and
poets whose creations have come down to us for centuries. I interpret the
flute as being the most peaceful, magical, and calming voice available to
mankind beyond the human voice itself, and as such, it is the logical musical
instrument to pacify, control, and ensure the ox—that is, the oxherd’s own
mind, according to Ch’an Buddhism—of its well-being. The significance
of the oxherd as an individual of low status is perhaps to emphasize that
enlightenment (satori) or “no-thingness” in the Zen concept is available to
everyone, even the poor oxherd.
The oxherd also reflects the Chinese Confucian ideal of self-reflection,
as Jang writes: “[A]fter the fulfillment of his social duties, or if the country
became disordered or corrupt, [an educated man or official] should discard
wealth and rank and withdraw to devote himself to self-cultivation and
transmission of the Way. The self-image of a virtuous scholar-official did
not include an attachment to power and wealth.” The following poem,
written by a Sung Chinese governmental official, Ts’ui Yen (1057–1126),
was inspired by a painting depicting an old man observing herding:
Being an official, I am afraid of being ridiculed;
The children of northern barbarians are riding oxen,
far from the big river.
Ready to go home, I prepare the boat.
My decision to return is firm.
 Socior eligious Stat us of Flu t e Musici a ns 177

Must not let the happiness be known to the youthful:

Leading an ox, singing and picking the spikes of grains;
I hear no more the drums of war.
High position and fame are unreal after all;
Where am I to settle the rest of my life?
While the green grass is still long,
I am going to herd my oxen and sheep [. . .]
Playing a flute on the back of an ox in the northern wind,
I am a hale old man who does not care about worldly
affairs.20

Based on this poem and the above interpretation, it is perhaps incorrect to

assume that oxherds and others who appear to be rural peasants have low
status in their cultures. In fact, they may be retired governmental officials.
However, the herders seemingly possess humility, are reclusive, and enjoy
an eremitic way of life, very much like the oxherders in the Buddhist art
and literature.
Returning to the oxherd paintings associated with Ch’an Buddhism, the
herders are usually depicted as young boys who display certain rustic at-
tributes. Many of the poems also portray a certain rusticity of the herders,
as suggested in the following poem by the monk Kao-sung Yiian-miao
(1238–95), who was inspired by a painting of a young herder walking with
his ox under a tree:
The herdboy wears a hemp-fiber cape and a bamboo-leaf hat;
He shows his dignity to whomever he meets.
Leading an ox, he plays the flute;
After ploughing, he rests beside the field.21

Likewise, the transverse cane flute, often being a rustic or natural-edge

aerophone, fits within the lower-class stereotype that serves to teach about
the Zen ideals of simplicity.

In the next chapter, flute timbres and sonic textures are discussed. Flute
timbres or tone colors, especially, are what characterize the flute and make
it such a unique musical instrument.
Story 14

Hard to Fill
Ireland

I hesitate to say “my flute.” Some musicians are superstitious about their
instruments, and prefer to think of themselves as custodians rather than
owners: the instrument, after all, has usually been around a lot longer than
they have, and will likely by around for a lot longer; it has been through
several or many hands, and if it could speak, might cast aspersions on its
present companion’s musical abilities. Use of the Irish language, with its
hazy concept of ownership, might be pertinent here: “My flute” would be
an fliúit s’agamsa, or “the flute which is at me.”. . .
I started gradually to learn that a flute is not a tin whistle. . . . [T]here is
the question of the breath and how you take it, and how to let it out. The
flute resists your breath in a necessary way; the whistle offers no resistance
and the breathing is very different.
But gradually, you start to get a buzz. You learn to “fill” the flute. You feel
the flute vibrate when it is warm, and the little coin-columns of air stacked
beneath your fingertips dance up and down like mercury thermometers,
all registering different bouncy volatiles of temperature. The sound begins
to carry, to lift, and it’s surprising how a flute carries: When you leave the
session for the bog or loo or bathroom, it’s the voice you hear above the
box and fiddles and pipes and guitars.

Ciaran Carson, Last Night’s Fun: In and Out of Time with Irish Music
(New York: North Point, 1996), 49, 53.
Ch a p t er 14

The Aesthetics and Power

of Flute Sounds, Timbres,
and Sonic Textures

In story 14, a type of folkloric anecdote, the author speaks about the tone
colors or timbres of the Irish wooden transverse flute (Olsen category 4),
beginning with how the player’s breath is resisted by the flute—the tin
whistle (Olsen category 3), by contrast, does not resist the breath—but
eventually the instrument vibrates and the player learns how to “fill” it (with
air, emotion, power—the author does not say). He ends his story by telling
how the flute’s sound carries and can be heard above all other instruments,
even the “box” or accordion. Indeed, it is the flute’s timbre that gives it its
sonic power, if not its magical power.

Flute Timbres
“At a strictly aural level of perception,” writes Charles Lafayette Boilès,
“qualities of timbre—either of voices or of instruments—are often thought
magically powerful.”1 Small flutes are noted for their shrill and piercing tone
colors, and in many cultures, the sounds of small flutes pierce the hearts,
souls, and perhaps other areas of the human body of many listeners because
of the high pitches. They also attract spirits, sprites, and other nonhuman
entities, including animals. In Western civilization, the piccolo is featured in
the last two repetitions of John Philip Sousa’s Stars and Stripes Forever and
in the rousing finale of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony for similar
reasons as in world cultures: to create musical excitement and intensity.
In medieval Korea, “Moon and Flute,” a poem by Yi Soon Shin (1545–98),
refers to a shrill but tuneful flute that has intestinal fortitude, as the last line
makes clear:
By moonlight I sit all alone
in my tower on Hansan Isle.
180 Ch a p t er 14

I stroke the long sword at my side,

and breathe a deep sigh toward the tide.
Hark! Whence shrills this tuneful flute
so sharp to pierce my bowels?

Ha writes in a note, “Yi Soon Shin was Fleet Admiral in the reign of Sunjo,
the 14th sovereign, during the Hideyoshi Invasion (1592–98). His famous
‘Turtle Boat’ was the first iron-clad man of war in the world. At the close
of his final victory over the Japanese squadron, fleeing home, a stray bullet
from the enemy vessel hit him, and he fell on his flagship in the Battle of
Noryang as Nelson did at Trafalgar.”2 Sitting alone in his tower, as the poem
points out, he was contemplating the battle to come and heard a shrill flute.
Was this a signal to attack by the enemy Japanese squadron? In Japanese
theatrical performances of noˉ and kabuki theater, the shrill sounds of the
noˉkan flute (Olsen category 4) function as signals that punctuate portions of
the dance. So strident are the sounds of the noˉkan in its highest register that
it seems as if it could pierce the eardrums, if not the bowels, of the listener.
Throughout most of the central Andes of South America, the area at
one time dominated by the Inca, a preference for high-pitched sounds ex-
ists, as exemplified by the shrill whistle tones of flutes. This high-pitched
aesthetic, favored by the Quechua (also written as Kechua) and the Ay-
mara, is also found in their choice of the tightly strung charango, a small,
guitar-type chordophone, as an accompanying instrument, and their style
of high-pitched singing, most often performed by women. The distribution
of flutes throughout this region, from panpipes to duct and ductless edge
aerophones, is related to the preference for high-pitched tones.
In Bolivia, the timbres of flutes have important symbolic meanings, as
Henry Stobart explains:
In contrast with the pure harmonics of the European flute, a broad tone, rich
in harmonics (tara), is usually preferred in the highlands. Tarka or taraka [see
chapter 7, figure 16] probably derive their name from the Aymara word tara,
which denotes a hoarse voice. When blown strongly, the sound of these flutes
divides so the fundamental tone and the octave above are of near-equal inten-
sity. . . . [T]he hoarseness of tara, which refers to the timbre of some highland
wind instruments, can be glossed ‘double’. This vibrancy, rich in harmonics, is
said to be in tune and creative like the balancing of male and female and the
sexual union of a man and a woman. But when instruments produce a thin
tone with few harmonics, do not sound well, or are out of tune with the rest
of an ensemble, they may be called q’iwa, a concept said to imply singleness or
aloneness, used to denote castrated animals, infertile plants, homosexuals, and
misers with money or food. Associated with the inability to produce and with
 t h e a est h et ics a n d Pow er of Flu t e Sou n ds 181

imbalance, q’iwa is understood in terms of agency and is of central importance

to concepts of regeneration. In traditional communities, musical timbre is di-
rectly related to regeneration, productivity, and creation.3

This concept is true not only for Bolivia but throughout the traditional
Andes and probably far beyond. In the northern departamento or state of
Ancash in Peru, a similar duct flute to those described by Stobart is called
roncadora or “snorer” because its loud and raspy sound resembles snoring.
The Peruvian roncadora has only three finger holes and is fingered by the
musician’s left hand, producing high-pitched overtones, while the flutist ac-
companies himself with a large bass drum suspended around his neck that
he plays with his right hand, as seen in figure 20. This type of one-man-band
is called pipe-and-tabor (pito y tabor in Spanish), and in Ancash, Peru, it
performs widely in public festivals, fulfilling a central role in ceremonies
associated with communal labor in the fields. Together the raspy and shrill
whistles of the roncadora and the deep rhythmical rumbling of the bass
drum make the roncadora pipe-and-tabor a sonic experience to be reckoned
with because of its carrying power.
Some flutes are sonically enhanced with an attached membrane covering
a hole between the mouthpiece and the finger holes. The membrane vibrates
when the flute is blown, creating a buzzy timbre. In ethnomusicology and
organology, such an attached buzzer is called a mirliton, and the flute, a
“mirliton flute.”4 A membraphonic or mirliton attachment on a Chinese
dizi (see chapter 2, figure 11) gives the instrument more carrying power
than without it—the buzzer makes the flute an outdoor instrument that
can compete with the loud instruments in Chinese opera.
Among the ancient Aztec (also called Nahuatl from the language of the
Aztecs), a type of mirliton flute may have existed. Archaeologists believe
that an Aztec ceramic duct flute on exhibit in the National Museum of Ar-
chaeology in Mexico City used to have a membrane covering a raised hole
between its mouthpiece and four finger holes. It is displayed without a mem-
brane, and if it indeed had a mirliton, it would have deteriorated centuries
ago. The present Nahua-speaking people, known as Pames Amerindians,
are believed to be the descendants of the Aztecs, although they currently
live in the Mexican state of Huasteca, now known as Hidalgo Huasteca,
in the Veracruz region of eastern Mexico. The Pames play a vertical cane
duct mirliton flute to the accompaniment of a teponatzli slit gong—also an
ancient Aztec instrument—to expel evil spirits during festivals.5
The modern Cakchiquel Maya in the region around Lake Atitlán, Gua-
temala, play a transverse cane mirliton flute called xul that has an attached
membrane affixed with bee’s wax over an opening on the extreme proximal
182 Ch a p t er 14

20. A Group of three roncadora flute and drum (pipe-and-tabor) play-

ers performing during the patronal festival of Santa Rosa in Yungay,
Ancash, Peru, 1979. Photograph by Dale A. Olsen.

end of the cane tube. It is played by a man along with other men playing a
gourd marimba for the deer dance and other rituals.6 A well-known Mayan
folktale known as “The First Flute” may be about the xul, although the story
calls the instrument in question a “chirimía,” which is a shawm and not a
flute. In the complete folktale, a Mayan princess holds a contest to find a
husband. After rejecting many suitors, a young musician comes and sings
to her about love. Impressed, the princess responds favorably by saying she
likes him and will marry him. First, however, he must learn to sing the songs
 t h e A est h et ics a n d Pow er of Flu t e Sou n ds 183

of every bird in the Guatemalan rainforest. The young man agrees and goes
into the forest to learn how to sing like the birds. He soon realizes, however,
that there are so many birds in the rainforest that learning to sing like all
of them is impossible. After days of trying, a spirit of the rainforest takes
pity on him and also on all the birds and other animals that are growing
weary of hearing the young man practice his singing day after day. A Spirit
of the Rainforest, after transforming itself into a friendly looking human,
approaches the young man, saying, “Let me help you.” The Spirit cuts a tree
branch, hollows it out, makes some finger holes, and says, “Now, watch and
listen carefully, and do what I do.” He teaches the young man how to blow
and finger the instrument, producing combinations of notes that sound just
like birds. The young man thanks the Spirit of the Rainforest and returns
to the Mayan princess, proudly displaying and playing bird songs on the
first flute, which he calls “chirimía.”
From this story, it is not clear what type of aerophone this chirimía is
because it is referred to as a flute in the title of the legend. In current Mayan
and Guatemalan cultures, however, the chirimía is a double-reed aerophone
like a shawm or oboe and not an edge aerophone or flute—the latter is called
xul in Mayan and pito in Spanish. Linda O’Brien-Rothe, however, explains
the following about the ambiguity of the English and Spanish terms used
to translate xul and chirimía:
The difference between the two is generally not understood. Even afficionados
of Mayan music in Guatemala often call the xul a “chirimía.” I believe this is
for two reasons: the chirimía is more often seen, since it forms an ensemble
with a drum and sometimes this duo plays as street musicians for tourists. It
accompanies several dance-dramas as well. This makes it appear as the most
typical or indigenous wind instrument of the region. It is often for sale in mar-
kets, painted and decorated as a tourist item. To my knowledge it is not used
for esoteric rituals like the xul is. Also chirimía is a cute and easily pronoun-
cable Spanish word [for non-Mayan people], unlike the Mayan word “xul,”
which [non-Mayan people] may not know how to pronounce [it is pronounced
“shool”]. In any case, there is no confusion in the minds of the Tz’utujil [a
particular Mayan people] when they are speaking the Tz’utujil language. The
xul is an edge aerophone and the chirimía is a shawm. But when they speak
to me in Spanish, believing that I don’t understand Tz’utujil, they might call a
xul a “chirimía.”7

According to the story “The First Flute,” the chirimía-cum-flute originated

as a musical tool for imitating birds among the Maya, and whether the birds
are noisy parrots or twittering canaries, either a shawm or flute would work.
We also learn that the role of the instrument is to win the heart of a woman
184 Ch a p t er 14

by a man, which is a role generally given to a flute rather than a shawm.

Another possible interpretation of this folktale associates the instrument
with fertility, which is also a function of flutes in general, as we have seen,
often used during harvest celebrations.8 All of these uses and functions
relate to the aesthetics and power of the sound and timbre of the musical
instrument in question, the chirimía.9 Regardless of what type of instru-
ment is referred to in “The First Flute,” its importance lies in the aesthetics
and power of its sound, which is, perhaps, buzzy, like certain squawking
birds. Because the buzzing timbres of the xul mirliton flute and the chirimía
shawm are similar, it is possible that the names for those instruments were
used interchangeably in the past.
In some situations, the sound of the flute is like the wind, or is sad, lonely,
and pensive. Like the Japanese shakuhachi and the Persian nay, most flutes
are capable of a great variety of timbres that can imitate sounds of nature
or evoke many emotions. The following two lines of a Japanese poem from
the middle of the sixteenth century are about the komusoˉ or itinerant Bud-
dhist beggar straw mat priests and the sound of their shakuhachi flutes:
Amidst spring flowers who should care
that the wind blows?
It is not the wind, but the shakuhachi
of the komo.10

The reference to the wind is a programmatic allusion to the breathy timbre

of the shakuhachi as played by a komosoˉ priest as he blows his bamboo
for alms while outdoors. Wind (considered the breath of God in many cul-
tures) is a common metaphor for the sound of the shakuhachi, also used
by Japanese composer Toru Takemitsu when he wrote in his program notes
for “November Steps” for shakuhachi, biwa, and orchestra, that the shaku-
hachi should imitate the “sound the wind makes when it blows through a
decaying bamboo grove.”11
In the following medieval Korean poem, “Fisherman’s Pipe,” by Yoo Sung
Won, a fisherman’s flute evokes sadness from a distance, as it awakens a
noble courtier, perhaps Yoo Sung Won himself:
I lie on my back aloft the grass roof,
pillowing my head on my harp.
I feel drowsy with a fond dream
of the noble king’s reign of peace.
At the gate I hear a fisherman’s pipe
It trills a sad note and awakens me from sleep.12
 t h e A est h et ics a n d Pow er of Flu t e Sou n ds 185

Hearing a flute from afar seems to be an aesthetic fascination in parts of East

Asia, and the flute’s “beautiful” tone is its most captivating characteristic,
as Sei Shoˉnagon writes in The Pillow Book:
I love the sound of the flute: it is beautiful when one hears it gradually approach-
ing from the distance, and also when it is played near by and then moves far
away until it becomes very faint.
. . . I remember one of the Special Festivals at Kamo, when the musicians
had not yet come into His Majesty’s presence. One could hear the sound of
their flutes from behind the trees, and I was just thinking how delightful it was
when suddenly the [oboes] joined in. They became shriller and shriller, until
all the ladies, even those who were most beautifully groomed, felt their hair
standing on end.13

Sei Shoˉnagon’s short comparison of flute (probably fue) and oboe (probably
hichiriki) timbres helps to contextualize the Japanese flute, which, in this
case, is a transverse bamboo flute (fue), similar to the present ryuteki (Olsen
category 4) used in gagaku, Japan’s ancient royal-court orchestra tradition.
She ends this passage: “Then the procession came before the Emperor with
all the string and wind instruments playing in splendid unison.” Indeed,
multiple instrumental sonic texture—the playing together of instruments
with different timbres—often creates a memorable sonic atmosphere or
soundscape for the listener. In some cultures, however, instrumental sonic
texture signifies extramusical meaning rather than aesthetic pleasure.

Sonic Flute Textures

By the term “sonic texture,” I mean “simultaneous sounding” of two or
more instruments or voices. Throughout the stories presented in this book,
flutes have mostly been played as solo instruments in a single-part texture.
In many regions of the world, however, especially in the South American
rainforest and Andes mountains, Africa, New Guinea, Japan, and Java, just
to name a few, flutes are played in ensembles that create multipart textures.
Such thick textures often have other reasons for their existence than aes-
thetics. However, I have found no folktales, myths, or other stories from
around the world that refer explicitly to sonic textures, and it seems that
only in writings by ethnomusicologists and other ethnographers—that is,
by “outsiders”—are they ever described. If folktales and myths are indeed
the oral transmissions of local—that is, “insider”—attitudes, history, knowl-
edge, and perspectives, then it is clear that the “products,” such as the flute
sounds and the flutists, are more important than the “processes,” such as
the descriptions of how and why the flute sounds exist and are produced.
186 Ch a p t er 14

Nevertheless, ethnographic descriptions are like stories in themselves, and

they provide the information in the following paragraphs.
In the Aymara culture of southern highland Peru, highland Bolivia, and
parts of northern Chile and Argentina, siku panpipes (collectively known
as sikuri) are played in large ensembles. The siku is a double-unit, bipolar,
or paired panpipe—all those terms are used in the literature for the same
thing: one instrument that consists of two multi-tubed halves that are tra-
ditionally played in a collective fashion by two men who alternate and
interlock their notes to make a complete scale and melody. The two halves
of the siku panpipe are called ira and arka in Aymara, meaning “leader”
and “follower,” respectively. In addition, the ira is considered male and the
arka, female. There are at least three reasons for the sikuri bipolar panpipe
instrumental combination and technique.14
First, the combination and technique are physiological because at the high
altitudes of the Andean altiplano (“high plain”), the air is thin, and two
people sharing the effort can blow their panpipes longer and harder, enabling
them to make music for a longer period of time than if one person has to
play all the notes on an instrument. As many as a dozen men or more—an
ensemble style known as chiriwano in Bolivia includes up to five hundred
players––make up a traditional siku orchestra, and, often, the musicians
also play drums while blowing and dancing at altitudes of over fourteen
thousand feet above sea level.15 Additionally, some double-unit panpipes,
such as the julajula from northern Potosí, elevation about sixteen thousand
feet, are very long, requiring enormous volumes of air to make them sound
(see figure 21).
Second, the combination and technique are symbolic because of a religious
attribute called yanantin in Quechua that is expressed in dualism. Stobart
writes the following about this important belief among the Chipayas Indians
in the department of Potosí, Bolivia:
Many types of double-unit panpipes . . . of northern Potosí divide the notes of
the scale between paired instruments. The combination of paired instruments
(that is, two halves), such as the three-tubed male panpipe and the two-tube
female panpipe of the Chipayas, is usually stated to be “like older and younger
brothers” but is sometimes compared with heterosexual intercourse. These
concepts may be understood in terms of the organizing principle of duality
or complementarity (Quechua yanantin) by which paired elements are said to
belong together and to be incomplete or uncreative alone.16

This symbolic technique of male-female dualism is also metaphorically re-

lated to the sun and the moon as dichotomous creator beings.
 t h e A est h et ics a n d Pow er of Flu t e Sou n ds 187

21. Julajula double-unit panpipes played by kneeling players in front of

a church in Charka Province, northern Potosí, Bolivia. Photograph by
Henry Stobart, 1987. Used with permission.

Third, the concept of dualism (although not the combination and tech-
nique of ira and arka) can be sociological, as it is with the type of panpipe
ensemble known as chiriwano, where each half of an ensemble represents
a particular community:
Two metaphorical neighboring communities—each half of the panpipe ensem-
ble—“play their particular melodies simultaneously in a type of counterpoint,”
188 Ch a p t er 14

like a musical duel, “in which each community unit tries to play its melody at a
louder volume than the other, in order to dominate.” This musical and physical
dualism is a metaphor of the Andean society, in which two halves, the leaders
of each community, “are structurally necessary to complete the whole.”17

Indeed, the aspect of dualism as being “structurally necessary to complete

the whole” can be found throughout the world, including Mozart’s main
characters in Die Zauberflöte (The magic flute), as David Buch explains:
“The use of matching male and female forms of characters’ names is typical,
e.g., Nadir and Nadine, Papageno and Papagena, Tamino and Pamina.”18
In addition, the male characters of Papageno and Tamino play contrasting
musical instruments—Papageno both a set of magical bells and a panpipe
(however, not at the same time) and Tamino a magical transverse flute—that
give them protective powers. They do not, however, play them together in
a multipart texture.
With regard to the soundscapes of some of the aspects of sonic texture
mentioned above, the term “dense unison” has been coined by Turino for
ensembles of Andean flutes.19 The melodies played by panpipe ensembles
and other ensembles of flutes in the Andes are mostly monophonic or single
sound, with instruments playing either in unison or at the octave. However,
because of slight tuning differences, individual variations in air pressure
because of altitude or inebriation (or both), simultaneous variations of
rhythm because of dancing or inebriation (or both), and other factors, the
monophony or unison is not quite together, resulting in a mass of melodic
sound that could be termed “thick monophony” as well as dense unison. It
is a sonic texture not unlike a congregation singing a hymn in unison on a
Sunday morning in a Baptist church; it is massive and expressive but not out
of tune according to the culture that is actively and passively participating.
Rich sonic texture of many instruments playing together also includes
different pitches played together, which in European-derived cultures is
referred to as “harmony.” In many regions of the world where flutes of
different sizes play together, however, the “harmony” has very little to do
with Western traditional harmony. It is neither tonal nor does it necessarily
correspond to just- or equal-tempered tuning as in European-derived cul-
tures. The traditional Aymara cultures in the Andes of Bolivia and portions
of southern Peru, for example, play various types of flute in groups called
tropas (“troops,” but glossed as “consorts“) of one type of instrument.20
Stobart describes several of these ensembles in Bolivia:
Many traditional wind instruments, especially of highland Oruro and La Paz
departments, are played in consorts (tropas) of a single type of instrument made
 t h e A est h et ics a n d Pow er of Flu t e Sou n ds 189

in graduated sizes and tuned in unison, parallel fifths, or octaves. Blending is

essential, and people say the tonal color of the ensemble should be consis-
tent, with each voice heard equally and no single voice standing out from the
solidarity of the ensemble. . . . Rich, dense, and often dissonant tonal color is
sometimes consciously added by an instrument that plays in parallel to the rest
of the ensemble, but at a dissonant interval. For example, in the tropa recto (an
ensemble of musiñu), all the instruments are tuned to play in parallel octaves
or fifths; however, the single sobre requinto, tuned a fifth above the irasu-sized
instruments, is pitched a tone above the four requintos. The resulting consistent
parallel dissonance enlivens and enriches the timbre of the ensemble, como
órgano “like an organ.”
Fascination with sound is emphasized rather than developed instrumental
technique, and little individual practice is necessary. Musical performance is
essentially a socializing activity in which general participation and interaction
are encouraged, reflecting traditional egalitarian social structures while discour-
aging excessive power or subordination. The notion of a soloist is contrary to
many traditional highland musical practices.21

There is, indeed, a “fascination with sound” within world music cul-
tures, especially, but not exclusively, with regard to flutes. Flute timbre has
been suggested in many of the stories presented in this book, although it is
neither technically explained nor described. Sonic flute textures, however,
appear not to be discussed or even suggested in legends, myths, poems, or
other stories; instead, flutelore is mostly about individual flutists and single
flutes. Sonic flute textures exist, however, and are often found in auspicious,
celebratory, and other important contexts, such as those discussed above
from the Andean highlands.
I conclude this section with another context for sonic flute texture: Ja-
pan’s gion matsuri festival held every July in the Gion district of Kyoto.
The first gion matsuri took place in 869 to placate the ancestor spirit of
Emperor Gozo and other possibly angry Shinto deities that were believed
to have caused an earthquake, and to protect against future epidemics,
fires, pestilence, and other natural disasters. In the gion matsuri celebra-
tion I attended in 1973, dozens of flutes of the same size were played by
musicians sitting on huge floats that were paraded through the streets of
the Gion district. Each flutist played the same high-pitched slow melody
in a type of intonational heterophony to the accompaniment of slow beats
on drums. The overall effect was an esoteric cloud or ambiguous shimmer
of shrill flute sounds punctuated by loud drums, yells from the men pulling
the floats, and the noisy excitement of the crowds.22 It was the sonic flute
texture of dense unison created by minute and, I believe, intentional dif-
190 Ch a p t er 14

ferences in intonation that had a lasting effect on me as a flutist. The effect

was similar, perhaps, to the impression Sei Shoˉnagon wrote about in The
Pillow Book: “To describe the scene as ‘most splendid’ would be hopelessly
inadequate. . . . [A]s I observed everything, I felt that I had never in my life
been unhappy.”23
Conclusion

As diverse as the flutetales and ethnographies in this book are, and as nu-
merous as they seem to be, “flute” is often not one of the motifs used by
collectors of folktales. For example, “flute” appears only twelve times as a
motif in the updated and revised edition of Stith Thompson’s Motif-Index
of Folk Literature,1 even though it is often one of the major implements
used for magical purposes in a multitude of narratives, as we have seen.
At best, terms that sometimes appear in indexes or lists of motifs that may
mean “flute” are “pipe,” “clarinet,” “trumpet,” “musical instrument,” or
simply “object.” I can only interpret this to mean that many folklorists and
anthropologists who collect and publish folktales do not consider flutes to
be instruments of much importance. A case in point can be made with story
7, “The Origin of Maize,” collected by Johannes Wilbert from the Yupa
Culture in western Venezuela. As I reread the narrative, the final paragraph
is very important: “But before they harvest the maize, they blow—even
today—upon the instruments [the arunse flutes] of Oséema, that he may
always grant them an abundant new harvest.” It is my interpretation that
after maize, Oséema (the god or culture hero), and the Yupa people them-
selves, the arunse flutes are the most important motifs. They are the only
magical implements used by Oséema and passed on to the Yupa, so the
mortals (the Yupa) can have abundant harvests of maize. They are not sec-
ondary, because without them there would be no maize among the Yupa.
Therefore, I argue that flutes should be a major motif in folklore indexing,
because they are the epitome of power. As I have stressed and pointed out
in this book, flutes around the world are important for human and nonhu-
man personal, communal, religious, spiritual, and secular communication,
expression, and even existence itself.
192 Conclusion

What is singularly distinct or unique about flutes, flute playing, and flute
players in a world context? We have seen numerous times in the many
stories of world flutelore that flutes are powerful for a number of reasons.
The first and perhaps foremost reason why flutes are powerful is the direct
use of the musician’s breath to produce a sound, and breath is the source
of life itself, as told to us by many storytellers from many cultures across
time. Here are just a few examples that have appeared in this book:
• Pan used his breath to imitate the breath of the wind and reproduce the
voice of his beloved (p. 17);
• Kulele’s flute is called yawai, meaning “breath” or “life” (p. 44);
• Toys-with-Jewels learned the secret of breathing, so she could live without
food (p. 104);
• Breath to the nay is fire (p. 148);
• A flute’s sound depends on the exhalation of the breath, which is the soul
(p. 172).

In other great world literature, breath is also the essence of life, as these
few examples articulate:
• “Yahweh God formed man . . . and breathed into his nostrils the breath
of life; and man became a living soul” (Genesis 2:7);
• “There is one way of breathing that is shameful and constricted. Then,
there’s another way: a breath of love that takes you all the way to infin-
ity” (Rumi)2;
• “The power of God is with you at all times; through the activities of
mind, senses, breathing, and emotions, and is constantly doing all the
work using you as a mere instrument” (Bhagavad Gita)3;
• “Every step, every breath, is a prayer” (Native American proverb).4

The flute is a tool for the transformation of breath into whistle sound, and
the whistle music of the flute is the sonic manifestation of human and/or
nonhuman breath. Just as tobacco smoke expelled by a shaman from his
cigar is the physical manifestation of breath and is visible to others, the
whistle sound of a flute is the sonic manifestaton of breath that is capable
of being heard by others over great distances.
The second reason why flutes are powerful is that whistle sounds are au-
ral characteristics or phenomena not found in normal human speech, song,
or chant discourses. As such, whistle sounds and the flutes that produce
them function as vehicles for theurgy or communication with supernatural
entities because they are on a different sonic level or in a different sonic
realm than speech or singing/chanting sounds. Whistle sounds are also
imitative of birds, and as such they are metaphors for the power of birds.
Although there are several types of aerophones or breath instruments in
 Conclusion 193

the world, flutes are unique because of their whistle sounds—the other
aerophone categories produce buzzy sounds because they are concussive
aerophones (single reed, double reed, lip reed; respectively, clarinet, oboe,
trumpet). The reasons why whistle sounds are, I believe, more propitious
than buzzy ones have been suggested by Claude Lévi-Strauss in his theory of
sound symbolism, reworked so convincingly by Gerardo Reichel-Dolmatoff
for the Tukano of the Colombian rainforest.5 Reichel-Dolmatoff main-
tains that the whistling tone of edge aerophones symbolizes sexual invita-
tion, and the buzzing tones of single-, double-, and/or lip-reed-concussion
aerophones symbolize male aggressiveness. The holistic union—that is, at
different times during the ritual calendar—of whistling and buzzing sym-
bolizes fertility and wholeness, as we have seen with whistle flute sounds
symbolizing the harvest and buzzy flute sounds symbolizing the rains in
Bolivia.
The third reason why flutes have power is the pleasing quality of the
“beautiful” melodies produced on them. While beauty is a value judgment, in
some flutelore there is no other melodic reason given for the power of flutes
than that concept, as the following phrases from several stories suggest:
• “To her delight, she found the musician as handsome as his music was
beautiful, and soon after she became his bride” (origin myth of the ’ohe
hana ihu, Hawaii, p. 55);
• “He sat down under a tree, took out his kaval and started to play a beau-
tiful song” (“The Shepherd and the Samodivi,” Bulgaria, p. 66);
• “The women were much taken by the beautiful music and bade the wan-
derers to tarry a few days” (“The Origin of Maize,” Venezuela, p. 91);
• “One day, they were seen ascending to heaven with a Phoenix, and their
beautiful music has been heard echoing in the sky ever since” (“The
Fluteplayer,” China, p. 106);
• “Flutes are made from the wood of this tree, and these repeat the beauti-
ful songs of Milo-maki” (“The First Pashiuba Palm,” Brazil, p. 111);
• “The spirits are pleased with his good manners, his sincerity, the honesty
of his answers to their questions, and his ability to play beautiful tunes on
the flute” (“The Flute,” Nigeria, p. 146).

Adding to the power of the beautiful flute music is the ability to play the
flute beautifully, as seen in these lines from several flutetales:
• “He taught him how to play it, and after his lessons with the old man,
Aniz could play more beautifully than ever” (“Aniz the Shepherd,”
China, p. 69);
• “Even though the flutist had a little human being inside his flute, he was
still able to play as beautifully as ever” (“Fate of Pongoktsina and Wife,”
Hopi, p. 127);
194 Conclusion

• “Intensely and beautifully she played the quena, and because of this she
was called Isicha Puytu” (“Isicha Puytu,” Peru, p. 138).

There is another level to this concept of “beautiful” music, and that is

choosing the proper melody for the job, which often requires improvisation.
Although improvisation comes from the creative mind of the performer, or
the spiritual essence that inspires the performer, it is a technique used by
any musician on any instrument. Therefore, it is not unique to flutes or flute
playing. Nevertheless, a whistle tone instrument or edge aerophone is most
often the choice of humans or nonhumans for their special types of power
communications beyond the use of their voices during chanting or singing.
Curandero (shaman) Eduardo Calderón discussed his use of melody when
he plays his small Moche ceramic globular flute to evoke the spirits during
his curing séances in northern Peru (see figures 22 and 23). I asked him how
he chooses which melodic pattern to play, and this was his answer: “It all
depends, let’s say, on the intention, or rather the mentality of the shaman.
Sometimes in a moment of trance, when certain mechanisms, shall we say,
of the manipulation come to you, and musical notes come out that have
never come out before. It depends, yes, in the moment that one finds himself
in. All of a sudden you get sounds that you have never thought of and they
come out.”6 This spontaneous creation of melody or improvisation during
a theurgical healing ritual is not unlike some of the creative processes read
in fluteloric texts presented in earlier chapters. Improvisation, although not
mentioned by that term, can be inspired by human or nonhuman sources,
as suggested in the following excerpts:
• “She played beautifully upon the syrinx, and understood how to compose
melodies without ever having taken a lesson” (referring to Toys-as-Jewels
in “The Fluteplayer,” China, p. 100);
• “When he coaxed the voice from the branch, it strangely eased the pain in
his heart. So, of course, he blew and made the branch sing” (referring to
Cloud in “The Story of the Flute Maker,” Lakota, p. 47);
• “One of the Indians begins to play a beautiful song on his flute. His fel-
low hunter is very impressed with the song and asks when the flutist com-
posed it. He replies, ‘Didn’t you hear it in the wind?’” (untitled folktale,
Pawnee, p. 99);
• “God will create through you, the flutist, captivating music for all Cre-
ation to enjoy” (Swami Sathya Sai Baba, India, p. 152).

A fourth reason why flutes have power is that they seem to provide a
simple but important mythological bond among people, animals, and spirits
throughout the world. We have seen how “ordinary” boys/men and girls/
women play flutes, causing people to fall in love, plants to grow, animals
22. Eduardo Calderón, a curandero (shaman) from the village
of Las Delicias near Moche, La Libertad, Peru, playing a small,
pre-Columbian Moche ceramic globular flute to demonstrate
how he invokes spirits to assist him in healing. Photograph by
Dale A. Olsen, 1974.

23. A Moche (pre-Columbian, northern Pacific coastal Peru,

ca. 100 b.c.–a.d. 700) ceramic globular ductless flute in ovoid
shape with two finger holes. Author’s collection. Photograph by
Dale A. Olsen.
196 Conclusion

to arrive, animals to go away, spirits to come, spirits to go away, armies to

come, children and rats to march, people to be transfixed and unable to
move, animals and people to dance, and so much more. We have seen how
animals play flutes to show superiority over other animals, for protection,
to send messages, for pleasure, to charm the cows, to to call up an army of
rats, to create tropical warmth, and more.
A fifth reason why flutes and flute music have power is their ability to
assist in or expedite healing, as these phrases attest:
• “The two máhus, both pierced with arrows, played their flutes still more
tenderly and sweetly, producing a soothing vibration and an uplift of
spirit which healed their pierced bodies” (Hopi, p. 87);
• “He plays his flute to heal, and because his flute gives life, Han Xiang Zi
became a protector of flautists in China” (p. 111);
• “Who can ever find a healing friend like the flute?” (Rumi, p. 149).

While little detail is offered in the flutetales themselves about the healing
processes, the Hopi legend in particular suggests several factors at work.
First is a physical factor caused by the “soothing vibration” of the flute
tones that perhaps match the human body’s natural state, and the second
is the “uplift of spirit” that can be viewed as psychological (emotional) or
spiritual factors—the former is caused by the flutes’ whistle tones and the
latter by their tender, sweet, and beautifully soothing melodies.
These are the essences of the magic of the flute, the whistle sounds of
flutes, and the pleasing music of flutes, according to flutelore, even though
the stories in which flute magic occurs have various outcomes: they can be
funny, lifesaving, death causing, and, in short, almost anything. The people,
animals, or spirits that make the flute sounds in flutelore do so because
flute sounds bring joy, happiness, and luck; they help to create, protect,
or sustain life; they can cause death; and they assist in the exploration of
existence and help change its destination—they are magical. Moreover, the
powers that be in flutelore, whether mortal, animal, or spiritual, like what
they hear and respond to it favorably. Flutes, flute sounds, and flute music
have highly specialized qualities to assist in or cause a variety of desired
outcomes—they have power.
Notes

Prelude
1. I have coined the terms “flutelore” and “flutetale” for this book.
2. Alan Merriam, in The Anthropology of Music (Evanston, IL: Northwestern
University Press, 1968), makes a distinction between “uses” and “functions,” as he
writes: “‘Use’ . . . refers to the situation in which music is employed in human ac-
tion: ‘function’ concerns the reasons for its employment and particularly the broader
purpose which it serves” (210).
3. A recent approach to the study of indigenous cultures in South America is
called “Amerindian perspectivism” by anthropologist Eduardo Viveiros de Castro
in his article “Cosmological Deixis and Amerindian Perspectivism” in Journal of
the Royal Anthropological Institute 4, no. 3 (1998): 469–88. In the abstract to that
article the concept is defined as “the ideas in Amazonian cosmologies concerning
the way in which humans, animals and spirits see both themselves and one another.”
While his theory is difficult to apply to an analysis of Amerindian music, it seems
more applicable to and even relevant for analyzing some flutelore because animals
are often the musicians, and their perspectives (which are actually the local peoples’
perspectives) are quite clear. I will call this approach or theory “indigenous perspec-
tivism,” however, because it can occasionally be applied worldwide to the analyses of
folktales, mythology, and other stories of magic and power, especially when animals
are the heroes and musicians.
4. Anderson, “Introduction to Maori Music,” 750.
5. Kierkegaard, “Concluding Unscientific Postscript to the ‘Philosophical Frag-
ments,’” 231.
6. When it comes to defining “folklore” and “mythology,” I have found either
evasion or over definition of the subject. For example, Alan Dundes writes in The
Study of Folklore (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1965) that there are twenty-
one “concise” definitions of the term “folklore” in volume one of the Standard
Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology, and Legend (1). For the layperson, “folklore”
198 Not es to Pr elude

is defined in Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 10th ed. (Springfield, MA:

Merriam-Webster, 1994) as the study of the “traditional customs, tales, sayings,
dances, or art forms preserved among a people” (452). More specifically, according
to folklore scholar Alexander Krappe in The Science of Folklore (New York: W.W.
Norton, 1964), it is “a study of the unrecorded traditions of the people as they
appear in popular fiction, custom and belief, magic and ritual” (xv). Richard M.
Dorson writes in his introduction to the book Folklore and Folklife: An Introduction
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1972) that “Folklore emerged as a new field
of learning in the nineteenth century, when antiquaries in England and philologists
in Germany began to look closely at the ways of the lower classes” (1). All of these
definitions suggest that the literary subject matter, the “folk literature” according
to Stith Thompson, has unknown authorship. I also find it interesting that the term
“mythology” is not defined or even indexed in any of these well-known books from
the second half of the twentieth century. For the layperson, “mythology” is defined
by Merriam-Webster as “the scientific study of myths or legends; that branch of
science which investigates the meaning of myths, and the relationship between the
myths of different countries or peoples” (1191). “Myth” is defined by the same source
as “a traditional story of unknown authorship, ostensibly with a historical basis,
but serving usually to explain some phenomenon of nature, the origin of man, or
the customs, institutions, religious rites, etc. of a people; myths usually involve the
exploits of gods and heroes” (1190). While it seems that folklorists study the stories
of the “folk” and mythologists study the stories of “other people,” the distinctions
are not relevant for the purposes of my book. For that reason, in my discussion of
methodologies I combine the terms into one—“folklore/mythology”—because it is
not my purpose to make a distinction between them. Furthermore, I use the terms
“flutelore” and “flutetale” in a very broad manner to mean any literary source about
the flute that clarifies its cultural significance.
7. Ethnomusicology is often defined as the study of any music as or in culture, or
within its cultural context (see Myers, “Ethnomusicology,” for a survey of the many
definitions of the term). Built into these broad definitions of ethnomusicology is the
assumption that it is a study of the human phenomenon called “music,” another
term that is very difficult to define. However, that assumption is being challenged,
especially in the twenty-first century, because animal sounds are also interpreted
as “music” by some scholars—this includes bird songs, humpback whale sounds,
monkey calls, and so forth. Therefore, the term “zoomusicology” has been coined
(see Martinelli) for the study of music of animals. One could argue, however, that
because humans are also animals, all studies of music belong to the realm of zoo-
musicology. Adding to the confusion of using these terms, the concept of indigenous
perspectivism (see above, endnote 3) has added the dimension “non human” to
the study of anthropology and ethnomusicology; “non human” means spirits and
inanimate objects (which are believed to have spirits in many cultures), in addition
to animals. Therefore, the best term for the study of the music of any entity in any
place at any time is simply Musicology, written with a capital “M” to mean “the
study of all music in all of its facets.”
 Not es to Pr elude 199

8. The term “flute” will be used throughout this book, with the understanding,
however, that by my use of that term I do not usually refer to European-derived
“art” music types of flutes (which usually, but not always, have metal keys covering
the tone holes), but to any world instrument whose sound is produced by a stream
of air striking a sharp edge, which creates audible sound waves in the process (see
chapter 2).
9. See David Buch’s article “Fairy-Tale Literature and ‘Die Zauberflöte’” in Acta
Musicologica 64, no. 1 (1992): 30–49, for a history of fairy tales and music in Eu-
ropean cultures. Excellent but brief discussions of oral literature classifications are
by Linda Dégh in her chapter “Folk Narrative,” published in Dorson (1972), 53–83,
and by David C. Laubach in his book Introduction to Folklore (Portsmouth, NH:
Boynton/Cook Publishers, 1989).
10. See, for examples, Philip Bate’s The Flute: A Study of its History, Develop-
ment and Construction (1969), Nancy Toff’s The Flute Book: A Complete Guide
for Students and Performers (1996), and especially Ardal Powell’s The Flute (2001).
11. Curt Sachs wrote numerous books that deal with the cultural significance of
musical instruments around the world, from early times to the twentieth century.
The History of Musical Instruments (1940) is the most relevant of his books for
the present study. His student, Marius Schneider, wrote a chapter titled “Primitive
Music” in Ancient and Oriental Music, volume 1 of the New Oxford History of
Music (1957), in which numerous references are made to the spiritual significance of
flutes among several cultures, mostly North Amerindians. The most data-filled and
definitive book for its time (1934) about the musical instruments of South American
native cultures is by Karl Gustav Izikowitz, titled Musical and Other Sound Instru-
ments of the South American Indians.
12. Some of the in-depth studies of particular world flutes are about the Chinese
dizi by Alan Thrasher (1978), the Japanese shakuhachi by Blasdel and Kamisangoˉ
(2008), and the acoustical and organological properties of Melanesian and Bolivian
panpipes by Baumann (2004) and Zemp (1978), respectively.
13. I shall attempt to be as consistent as possible with my use of Latin (Roman)
letters to spell terms from non-Romanized languages, especially Mandarin Chinese,
Japanese, and Kechua (Quechua). There is one caveat, however, and that is common-
use Romanization systems versus modern Romanization systems (see Miller 2010);
I do not use the International Phonetic Alphabet because it is not familiar enough
for lay readers. For Chinese terms I use the modern Pinyin (Hanyu pinyin) system
developed by Chinese scholars, rather than the older Wade-Giles, developed by
non-Chinese scholars. For Japanese, however, I use the revised Hepburn Roman-
ization system (hebon-shiki roˉmaji), rather than the older Nihon-shiki Roˉmaji or
the newer Kunrei-shiki Roˉmaji systems, simply because the revised Hepburn-shiki
Roˉmaji is based on English phonology and remains the most common translitera-
tion system in use in non-Japanese scholarship (I will use a macron rather than a
circumflex for long vowels, and I apologize for any missed diacritics). The main
indigenous languages of Peru and Bolivia, written as Quechua (also Kechua) and
Aymara (also Aimara or Aymará) are slightly more problematic because the older
200 Not es to Pr elude, Ch a p t ers 1 a n d 2

transliterations are based on Spanish phonology and the newer are more English-
or phonetically-based (respectively que for ke, ca for ka, cu for ku, güa for wa,
and a few other syllables). While most English writers (myself included) prefer the
older and more common form based on Spanish pronunciation for the Quechua
(rather than Kechua) language and the Inca (rather than Inka) civilization, I prefer
the more modern spellings for Aymara musical instruments such as kena (rather
than quena), siku (rather than sicu), and tarka (rather than tarca), and Quechua
musical instruments such as pinkullo or pinkillo (rather than pincullo, pingullo, or
pinquillo), although these Quechua duct flutes exist in a multitude of variants (the
Q’ero pinkuyllu is a notched flute).
14. Patricia S. Gray, cited in “Animal BioAcoustics,” 1996–2005, http://www
.sound-physics.com/Sound/Animal-BioAcoustics/.
15. Campbell, Inner Reaches of Outer Space, 11.
16. My definition of “magic” is inspired by the following: Charles Boilès, in Man,
Magic and Musical Occasions, who writes, “Magic is a mode of behavior” (vii), and
Michael Taussig, in The Devil and Commodity Fetishism in South America, who
writes, “Magic takes language, symbols, and intelligibility to their outermost limits,
to explore life and thereby to change its destination” (15).
17. Boilès, Man, Magic, and Musical Occasions, 8.
18. Ibid., 9.

Chapter 1. Flute Types and Stereotypes

1. For examples of musical instrument ambiguity where oboes are called “flutes,”
see Olsen, “Ethnomusicology of Archaeology,” and where trumpets are called “flutes”
and flutes are called “trumpets,” see Hill, Keepers of the Sacred Chants, xix, 84.
2. In the European history of musical-instrument classification, duct flutes are
sometimes called beak flutes (see Kartomi, On Concepts and Classifications). I
prefer not to use the word “beak” for a mouthpiece because it only refers to shape.
Furthermore, a beak pertains to a bird’s bill, and the distal ends of some Native
North American courting or love flutes are carved to resemble bird beaks.
3. Some scholars refer to a “globular flute” or ocarina as a “vessel flute.” I prefer
“globular” because it is the precise opposite of “tubular” (as in tubular flute), and
both globular and tubular refer only to shape. One could argue, for example, that
a closed tube could also be a vessel because “vessel” implies a container or utensil
that is capable of holding something. In addition, in anatomy, zoology, and botany,
a vessel is a tube that carries something, such as a “blood vessel.”
4. Brown, “Echoes of Himalayan Flutes,” 899–900.

Chapter 2. The Making of World Flutes

1. Felber and Baker, “Music and Superstition,” 243–44.
2. Whitten and Whitten, Puyo Runa, 145.
3. Grame, “Bamboo and Music,” 8.
 Not es to Ch a p t ers 2 a n d 3 201

4. Grame, “Bamboo and Music,” paraphrases (11) an original legend of the Sen-
tani people of New Guinea that is quoted in Sachs, History of Musical Instruments,
44–45.
5. Sachs, History of Musical Instruments, 44.
6. Pan, adapted and rewritten from Martin, Myths of the Ancient Greeks, 61–62.
For other versions of the origin myth of the Pan flute, more information about the
Greek goat-man-god, and a picture of an a.d. second-century Roman copy of a Greek
statue from ca. 100 b.c. of Pan teaching a shepherd boy how to play his flute, see
“Pan God,” wikipedia, January 31, 2013, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pan_(god).
7. I am including “field notes” and the often resultant “case studies” as “stories”
because they are based on oral history, that is, the conducting of interviews that are
transcribed, translated, and usually put into prose by the researcher.
8. Olsen, Music of the Warao, 75–78.
9. Trowell and Wachsmann, Tribal Crafts of Uganda.
10. Ibid., 339–41.
11. Kudo, Kinko Shakuhachi, 40, 55, 51.
12. One shaku (11.43 inches) equals ten sun, one sun equals ten bu, and one bu
equals ten rin.
13. Kudo, Kinko Shakuhachi, 56.
14. This instrument, measuring 1.8, is also called “ha-sun” among shakuhachi
players.
15. This note is called “ro.”
16. This instrument, measuring 1.6, is also called “roku-sun” among shakuhachi
players.
17. This note is also called “ro.” Therefore, the syllabic system for shakuhachi
notes and notation is based on what European and American music theory calls
the moveable “do” system, or here perhaps better called, the moveable “ro” system.
18. This instrument, measuring 2.5, is also called “ni-shaku-go-sun” among shaku-
hachi players.
19. Lee, “Yearning for the Bell.”
20. Kudo, Kinko Shakuhachi, 85.
21. Ibid., 92.
22. Culwick, “Pogoro Flute,” 40, 42.
23. Mason, South of Yesterday, 309.

Chapter 3. Flutes That Talk

1. The following YouTube links refer to “the talking flute”: D. J. Ster-
ling, “Ain’t No Sunshine & the Talking Flute #1,” http://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=StVuVk4TAaU&NR=1; “Ain’t No Sunshine & the backwards Talking
Flute #5,” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCbjwz4WxQo.
2. Ong, “Talking Drums,” 418, 423.
3. Lo-Bamijoko, “Performance Practice in Nigerian Music,” 7–8, 8–9.
4. Office of Exhibit Central, Smithsonian Institution.
202 Not es to Ch a p t ers 3 a n d 4

5. Ampene, “Odurugya Flute.”

6. Yanagita, “Japanese Folk Tales,” 50–51.
7. Translated in Archer, Loves of Krishna. See also chapter 5 of the current volume.
8. See chapter 5 in the current volume for the complete folktale.
9. Consejo Nacional de Educación, Antología Folklórica Argentina. This is my
translation. Another Internet source, http://www.redargentina.com/leyendas/florde-
lirolay.asp, provides the following information about the story’s distribution in Ar-
gentina and its alternate titles (my translation): “This story is known in Argentina’s
northern region, the Andes, and the central region. In the state of Salta it is called
‘la flor lirolay’; in Jujuy it is ‘La flor del ilolay’; in Tucumán, ‘La flor de lirolá’ and
also ‘La flor del lilolá’; and in Córdoba, La Rioja, and San Luis it is called ‘La flor
de la Deidad.’” The present version of “The Flower of the Lirolay” was translated
by Dale A. Olsen.
10. See the complete folktale in chapter 11 of the current volume.
11. Ampene, “Odurugya Flute.”
12. Ampene, personal communication, 2010.
13. Kbee, “Asante Traditional Music.” The videographer unfortunately chose to
mix this odurugya performance with a funeral ceremony that has no relationship
to the flute performance. The flute performance by itself (only the first part of the
video), however, is invaluable because of the performer’s high status as the major
living carrier of this unique Akan talking flute tradition.
14. Ibid.
15. For more information, see Olsen, Music of the Warao.
16. Roberts, Ancient Hawaiian Music, 38.

Chapter 4. Flutes and Gender Roles

1. Here, it seems justified to use the term “mythology” simply because the length,
detail, and profundity of the New Guinea narratives about their sacred flutes cor-
respond to the definition of “mythology” presented in the prelude, note 6, in the
current volume.
2. Two of the most detailed studies about flutes and mythology in New Guinea
(but not the Wogeo) are by Gilbert Herdt for the Sambia and Gillian Gillison for
the Gimi. I will not go into any detail about Herdt’s book Guardians of the Flutes:
Idioms of Masculinity about the Sambia and their sacred flutes used in their male
initiation rituals or Gillison’s book Between Culture and Fantasy: A New Guinea
Highlands Mythology about the sexual beliefs of the Gimi and their flute myths,
especially as they relate to female issues. Both are fascinating studies that offer very
detailed explanations and interpretations of the uses, functions, religious, and sexual
beliefs relative to the sacred flutes in their respective societies.
3. Chenoweth, Usarufas and Their Music, 60–61.
4. Wilbert, Folk Literature of the Warao Indians, 286, narrative 140. Reprinted
with permission from the Latin American Institute, University of California–Los
Angeles.
 Not es to Ch a p t ers 4 a n d 5 203

5. Murphy and Murphy, Women of the Forest, 87–95.

6. Hill, Keepers of the Sacred Chants, 58, 133.
7. Teit, “More Thompson Indian Tales,” 179. Reprinted courtesy of the American
Folklore Society (www.afsnet.org).
8. Young, “The Tusk, the Flute, and the Serpent,” 247–48.
9. The sex/gender concept is also discussed in “The Sexual Power of Flutes,”
chapter 5. Even the present section is about the sexual power of flutes (because so
many of the topics overlap), although there are other subthemes that are less about
sex than they are about gender.
10. Reichel-Dolmatoff, Amazonian Cosmos, 111–12.
11. Herdt, “Traditional Objects in Sambia Initiation,” 45–46.
12. Reichel-Dolmatoff, Amazonian Cosmos, 115.

Chapter 5. Flutes, Sexuality, and Love Magic

1. Woods, term paper.
2. Useful theories for the study of magic in anthropology and/or ethnomusicology
have been made by Boilès, Man, Magic, and Musical Occasions; Brown, Tsewa’s
Gift; Malinowski, Magic, Science, and Religion; and Tomlinson, Music in Renais-
sance Magic.
3. Boilès, Man, Magic, and Musical Occasions, 8–10. See also chapter 11 in this
volume.
4. Goss includes numerous folktales in the section subtitled “Legends and Myths
of the Native American Flute,” http://www.flutopedia.com/naf_legend.htm.
5. Payne, Native American Plains Flute, 17.
6. Erdoes and Ortiz, American Indian Myths and Legends, 273.
7. Payne, Native American Plans Flute, 18.
8. Erdoes and Ortiz, American Indian Myths and Legends, 275–78.
9. A complete version of the Lakota tale is found in Erdoes and Ortiz, American
Indian Trickster Tales, 123–25.
10. Johnson, “Musical Instruments of Ancient Hawaii,” 500.
11. King, “’Ohe Hano Ihu.”
12. The story I present is my own rewritten version. This legend is found in many
sources. See especially Johanna Hunt, “The Black Prince: A Story from Egypt,”
November 17, 2005, http://www.eventyr.co.uk/2005/11/sponsoring-my-n.html; and
The Black Prince, posted by Petro in Workshop reading, October 5, 2009, http://
www.playingmantis.net/blog/2009/10/05/the-black-prince/.
13. Dimock and Leverton, In Praise of Krishna, xiii.
14. These poems from the “Bhagavata Purana,” also called the Bhagavatam, “The
Book of God” (written ca. a.d. 200–400), are referred to as “myths” by Freda
Matchett in her book Kr.s.n.a, Lord or Avatara?
15. Dimock and Leverton, In Praise of Krishna, vii.
16. Matchett, Kr.s.n.a, Lord or Avatara? 254. See also “Bhagavata Purana.”
17. “Bhagavata Purana.”
204 Not es to Ch a p t ers 5 a n d 6

18. Bryant, Poems to the Child-God, 195–98, 193. The numbers in parentheses

in the second Bryant quote refer to the numbered verses from the previous poem.
19. Archer, Loves of Krishna, http://www.book-lover.com/Loves-of-Krishna/chap-
ter3.html#CH_III_ii.
20. Kinsley, Sword and the Flute, 34–35.
21. Wilbert, Folk Literature of the Warao Indians, 139, narrative 52.
22. Ibid., 301, narrative 144.
23. Vega, Incas, 79.
24. Erdoes and Ortiz, American Indian Myths and Legends, 275.
25. Maxwell, “Raja Donan,” 137, 138.
26. Stobart, “Bolivia,” Garland Handbook, 418.
27. Kourtova, class assignment.
28. The opposite (that they are not phallic symbols) is the topic in subsection
“Fish as Flutists, Flutes as Fish” of chapter 6.
29. Carvalho-Neto, Diccionario del Folklore Ecuatoriano, s.vv. “pinga,” “ullu.”
30. Hill, Keepers of the Sacred Chants, 84.
31. See Herdt, Guardians of the Flutes, 233.
32. In chapter 10, however, under the subheading “Flutes and Death to Self,” I
show that the kena played into a jar can cause death (i.e., the opposite of fertility
or life) to the player.
33. Jiménez Borja, Instrumentos Musicales del Perú, 36–37.
34. Frobenius and Fox, African Genesis, 157–58.

Chapter 6. Flutes and the Animal Kingdom

1. See prelude, note 3, for an explanation of “indigenous perspectivism.”
2. Spaethling, “Folklore and Enlightenment,” 49.
3. This is my translation of the 1791 Die Zauberflöte libretto excerpt from act 1,
scene 15 “Weil, holde Flöte, / durch dein Spielen / Selbst wilde Thiere Freude fühlen.”
4. Aesop, “Fisherman and His Flute.”
5. Benson, Birds and Beasts, 8.
6. Payne, in his book Native American Plains Flute, calls this mouthpiece appa-
ratus a “ducted-baffle-barrier configuration” (v).
7. Jiménez Borja, Instrumentos Musicales del Perú, 39. Translated by author.
8. “Animal.” The Wikipedia article quotes Julie Cresswell, who writes the following
for the definition of “animal”: “‘having the breath of life,’ from anima ‘air, breath,
life.’” Oxford Dictionary of Word Origins, s.v. “animal.”
9. Chiltoskey, Myths, Legends, Superstitions, 34. Also available in Mooney, James
Mooney’s History, and “Whistle, Flute, Flageolet,” Moondoves Spiral, n.d., http://
home.earthlink.net/~deanna1jc/moondoves_spiral7a.htm.
10. “Partridge Birds.”
11. Wilbert, Folk Literature of the Warao, 343–44, narrative 161.
12. Valencia Chacón, El Siku, 69.
 Not es to Ch a p t ers 6 a n d 7 205

13. Benson, Birds and Beasts, 88.

14. Coba Andrade, Instrumentos Musicales, 623.
15. Bellenger, Peru: Ayarachi.
16. Valencia Chacón, El Siku.
17. Parkinson, “Yoruba Folk-Lore,” 184–86.
18. See also chapter 3, “Flutes That Talk.”
19. Taylor, Music of Some Indian Tribes, 34. For more about yuruparí flutes, see
chapter 8.
20. Olsen, Music of El Dorado, 185, 188–89, 192.
21. Fuks, “Waiãpi,” 160–61.
22. Basso, A Musical View, 290.
23. Ibid., 291–92.
24. Ibid., 304.
25. Labbé, “Symbol, Theme, Context,” 87.
26. Wilbert, Thread of Life, 86.
27. Sechrist, Once in the First Times, 69–77.
28. Reichel-Dolmatoff, Amazonian Cosmos, 115–16; Lévi-Strauss, From Honey
to Ashes, 331–36; and Olsen, “Symbol and Function,” 377, and “Distribution, Sym-
bolism, and Use,” 43.
29. Bierhorst, Mythology of South America, 232.
30. Janelle Price, “Mythology of the Inca and Maya,” http://teachers.yale.edu/
curriculum/search/viewer.php?id=initiative_06.04.08_u.
31. Benson, Birds and Beasts, 41.
32. A version of the complete Zuni legend can be found in Erdoes and Ortiz,
American Indian Trickster Tales, 29.
33. Parsons, “Pueblo-Indian Folk-Tales,” 222–25.
34. Parsons, “Humpbacked Flute Player,” 337–38.
35. Payne, Hopi Flute Ceremony, 48.
36. Waters, Book of the Hopi, 44–46, 47–48.
37. Beyer, “Perspectivism.”
38. Ibid.
39. Viveiros de Castro, “Cosmological Deixis and Amerindian Perspectivism.”
40. Beyer, “Perspectivism.”

Chapter 7. Flutes and Nature

1. This Amerindian culture is known as Yuco in eastern Colombia.
2. Chenoweth, Usarufas and Their Music, 61.
3. Cohen and Wissler, “Q’eros,” 465, 466. Notice that in other Andean cultures,
instruments with similar names to pinkuyllu are duct flutes (Olsen category 3) rather
than notched flutes (Olsen category 2). Linguistically, the term pinkuyllu literally
glosses as “flute” in Peruvian Quechua, and kena (or kena-kena) literally glosses as
“flute” in Peruvian Aymara. Today, the two terms usually refer to a duct flute and
206 Not es to Ch a p t ers 7 a n d 8

notched flute, respectively. The Q’ero are the most traditional of the Quechua people
in the Andes, and it is believed their traditions more closely represent traditions from
preconquest times than any other Peruvian highland culture.
4. Olsen, “Tukano,” 151.
5. Reichel-Dolmatoff, Amazonian Cosmos, 112.
6. Jiménez Borja, Instrumentos Musicales del Perú, 45. Author’s translation.
7. See chapter 6, “Insects as Flutists.”
8. Joseph, Advanced Civilizations, 243.
9. Lambert, “A Kokopelli Effigy Pitcher,” 400.
10. Katchina figurines are often called “katchina dolls” in English, a term that
negates or belittles their importance and power in traditional Amerindian cultures,
in my opinion.
11. Parsons, “Pueblo-Indian Folk-Tales,” 241, 255.
12. Felber and Baker, “Music and Superstition,” 240.
13. Stobart, “Bolivia,” in Olsen and Sheehy, Garland Handbook, 426.
14. Ledang, “Magic, Means, and Meaning,” 117.
15. Olsen, “Shamanism, Music, and Healing,” 344.
16. Li Po, Classic Poetry Series, PoemHunter.com.
17. Minford and Lau, Classical Chinese Literature, 760. The poem was translated
by Edward Powys Mathers in 1911.
18. Ibid., 411.
19. Payne, Native American Plains Flute, 14–15. Rewritten by author.

Chapter 8. Flute Origin Myths

and Flute-Playing Heroes
1. Lai and Mok, Jade Flute, 69–73.
2. See chapter 4, “Flute Playing and the Reversal of Social Order.”
3. And they still do, since the use of sacred flutes is a characteristic of the Wogeo
and other cultures in New Guinea. See chapter 4.
4. Basso, Musical View of the Universe, 291–92; Fiorini, “Desire in Music,” 189,
190–91.
5. Takahashi, “Tozan-ryuˉ,” 26, 29–30.
6. For more information on Kokopelli, see chapters 6 and 7; on Krishna, see chap-
ters 5 and 12; and on goddesses, see chapter 4, “Flute Playing and Gender Specificity.”
7. Róheim, “Dying Gods and Puberty Ceremonies.”
8. Ibid., 184–85.
9. Ibid., 185.
10. See chapters 5 and 12.
11. For a drawing of Han Xiang Zi playing his flute, see “Han Xiang,” wikipedia.
com, February 1, 2013, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Han_Xiang.
12. Yetts, “Eight Immortals,” 800.
13. Ibid., 786.
 Not es to Ch a p t ers 8 a n d 9 207

14. Ibid., 800.
15. Tao Hongjing quoted in “Liu Zi Jue: History.”

Chapter 9. Flutes and Protective Power

1. The Japanese shakuhachi (Olsen category 2) and the Ethiopian washint (Olsen
category 1) are two examples of flutes that were once used as clubs, the former by
ronin or masterless samurai and the latter by night watchmen. The shakuhachi is
made from a length of bamboo with its heavy root end intact but drilled out, and
the washint is made from cane or metal pipe; it is the latter material that made the
washint serviceable as a club.
2. Wilbert, Folk Literature of the Warao Indians, 164–65. Used with permission
from the Latin American Institute, UCLA.
3. Han, Korean Folk and Fairy Tales, 248–49. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
4. Keil, Tiv Song, 55.
5. Hwang, Korean Myths and Folk Legends, 177–78. Reprinted with permission
of Jain Publishing Company, Inc., www.jainpub.com.
6. Ha, Poetry and Music of the Classic Age, 37.
7. Spaethling, “Folklore and Enlightenment in the Libretto,” 47.
8. This is my translation of the following 1791 Die Zauberflöte libretto excerpt
from act 1, scene 8:

Erste Dame.
(Sie giebt ihm eine goldene Flöte.)
O Prinz, nimm dies Geschenk von mir!
Dies sendet unsre Fürstinn dir!
Die Zauberflöte wird dich schützen,
Im grösten Unglück unterstützen.
Die drey Damen.
Hiemit kannst du allmächtig handeln,
Der Menschen Leidenschaft verwandeln.
Der Traurige wird freudig seyn,
Den Hagestolz nimmt Liebe ein.
Alle Fünf.
O so eine Flöte ist mehr als Gold und
Kronen werth,
Denn durch sie wird Menschenglück und
Zufriedenheit vermehrt.

9. Cobo, History of the Inca Empire, 143.

10. Olsen, “Symbol and Function,” 381.
11. Karsten, Civilization of the South American Indians, 71.
208 Not es to Ch a p t ers 9, 10, a n d 11

12. Tyler, Japanese Tales, 193.

13. Uysal-Walker Archive of Turkish Oral Narrative No. 79, “The Cauldron-
Headed, Ax-Toothed Sister.”
14. Cole, Best-Loved Folk-Tales, 638–42.
15. A version of the complete Hopi legend can be found in Malotki and Gary,
Hopi Stories of Witchcraft, Shamanism, and Magic, 51–52.

Chapter 10. Flutes and Death

1. Ashliman, “Pied Piper of Hameln.”
2. “Projekt Gutenberg.” Author’s translation.
3. Umlauft, Sagen und Geschichten, 97–100. Translated by Ashliman, http://www
.pitt.edu/~dash/hameln.html#magdalenagrund.
4. Ashliman, “Pied Piper of Hamelin.”
5. Wikipedia, “Pied Piper of Hamelin.”
6. Olsen, “Ethnomusicology of Archaeology.”
7. Ibid., 179, 182.
8. Adapted from Martin, Myths of the Ancient Greeks, 56.
9. Reichard, “Literary Types and Dissemination of Myths,” 299–300.
10. Alter, “Flutes, Sprites and Mountainous Geographies.”
11. Jiménez Borja, Instrumentos Musicales del Perú, 36.
12. Stephan, Singing Mountaineers, 157–68.
13. Ibid.

Chapter 11. Flutes and Unethical/Ethical Behavior

1. Wilbert, Thread of Life, 89.
2. J. H. Johnson, “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies,” 70–71. Tran-
scription of folktales, according to the “requirements” of the science of folklore,
includes the transliteration of how the texts are transmitted. Therefore, this orally
transmitted story was transcribed into a written form that the collector felt most
carefully represented its oral delivery. The result is called “black English” for lack
of a better term.
3. Boilès, Man, Magic and Musical Occasions, 9.
4. For possibly related variant “singing bone” stories, see D. L. Ashliman, trans.
and ed., “The Singing Bone and Other Tales of Aarne-Thompson-Uther Type
780,” University of Pittsburgh, 1999–2011, http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0780.
html#louisiana.
5. A version of the complete folktale is found in Balogun, “Nigerian Folktales and
Children’s Stories,” as told by Chinua Achebe, 429–30.
6. Ibid., 430.
 Not es to Ch a p t er 12 209

Chapter 12. Religious Status of Flutes

1. Türkmen, “First Eighteen Verses of Rumi’s Masnevi.”
2. Türkmen, “Song of the Flute: First Eighteen Verses of Rumi’s Masnevi.” See
figure 1 for a picture of a related type of the nay flute.
3. In Iran (Persia), the nay is played between the player’s upper two front teeth;
in Egypt and other Arabic countries, the nai is played from the player’s lips; in
Turkey, the ney has an inserted and detachable mouthpiece extension often made
from water-buffalo horn or wood against which the musician blows with his lips.
The spellings used here are the most accepted transliterations into English, although
both ney and nai are also acceptable in Iran.
4. Türkmen, “First Eighteen Verses of Rumi’s Masnevi.”
5. The Sanskrit word for bamboo is bans, accounting for a variety of other trans-
literations or spellings for this flute, such as bansri, baansri, bansi, baashi, baanhi,
and others.
6. Catlin-Jairazbhoy, “Mystic Voices.” Kinsley, Sword and the Flute, 39, uses the
Karnatic or South Indian term venu, and Sathya Sai, “Om Sri Sai Ram,” uses murali,
a northern Indian term. For visuals of Krishna playing his flute, which includes a
variety of types, see Krishna Darshan Art Gallery, http://www.stephen-knapp.com/
krishna_darshan_art_gallery.htm.
7. Kinsley, Sword and the Flute, 9.
8. Sathya Sai, “Sathya Sai Speaks.”
9. Henshall, History of Japan, 13, 18.
10. This period was roughly a.d. 710, the beginning of the Nara Period, to 1600,
the beginning of the Tokugawa Period.
11. Reader, Andreasen, and Stefansson, Japanese Religions, 98.
12. Takahashi, “Tozan-ryuˉ: An Innovation,” 44, 45.
13. Lee, “Yearning for the Bell”; Blasdel and Kamisangoˉ, Shakukhachi, 81.
14. In Japanese writing using Roman (or English) letters, known as roˉmaji, a
noun is not made plural by adding an “s.” The context of a sentence determines the
singularity or plurality of its nouns.
15. Electrical brainwave activity as registered by Electroencephalography (EEG)
reveals four levels of brainwaves. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/electroencephalogra-
phy. From the most to the least active they are as follows: beta, alpha, theta, delta.
http://web-us.com/brainwavesfunction.htm. Meditative states reveal alpha first, and
deeper meditation reveals theta. Normal activity produces beta, and sleep produces
delta. http://project-meditation.org/wim/brain_waves_in_meditation.html.
16. Watazumi-do Shuso, trans. Bruce Jones, http://shikan.org/bjones/Zen/zen274.
17. This concert took place in the evening of June 30, 1996, in the Teatro Peruano
Japonés, in Lima, Peru.
18. I call these narratives “bimusical participatory reflections.” They are based
on my self-reflections of my musical performances on the shakuhachi, either alone
210 Not es to Ch a p t ers 12 a n d 13

by myself or with others (see Olsen, Chrysanthemum and the Song). “Bimusicality”
is a concept Mantle Hood first discussed in 1960 in “Challenge of ‘Bi-Musicality.’”
19. Kasho, “Japanese Music and Dance,” 373.
20. The foremost ethnomusicology scholars who have researched and written
about the musical instruments mentioned in the Bible are Curt Sachs (History of
Musical Instruments), Carl Kraeling and Lucetta Mowry (“Music in the Bible”),
and Joachim Braun (Music in Ancient Israel/Palestine). In addition, “What Does the
Bible Say about Music, Songs and Musical Instruments,” www.bibleplus.org/music/
music.htm, has very useful information about the topic.
21. See Sachs, History of Musical Instruments, 106, 118–21, and Braun, Music
in Ancient Israel/Palestine, 13–14, 31–32.
22. Braun, Music in Ancient Israel/Palestine, 43, 45.
23. Ibid., 16; Gen. 4:20–21, World English Bible, http://ebible.org/web/GEN04.
htm#V0. The Hebrew text uses the terms kinnôr, which is actually a lyre (here trans-
lated as “harp”), and ‘ugaˉb, which is probably a flute (here translated as “pipe”).
The Hebrew word for “harp” is neˉbel. Braun, Music in Ancient Israel/Palestine,
22–24. For more on the word “harp,” see also Sachs, History of Musical Instru-
ments, 115–17.
24. Psalm 150, World English Bible, http://ebible.org/web/PSA150.htm#V0. “Yah”
is God.
25. Bible Suite by Biblios, accessed March 3, 2012, http://bible.cc/psalms/150–4.
htm.
26. Sachs, History of Musical Instruments, 106.
27. Braun identifies this instrument’s Greek name as aulós. Music in Ancient
Israel/Palestine, 43.
28. Matt. 9:23–26, World English Bible, http://ebible.org/web/MAT09.htm#V0.
29. This tale was told to Zoltan Juhasz by Pál István (b. 1919), a shepherd living
in North Hungary who learned it from his father, a well-known swineherd. Zoltan
told it to me in English in 2012, and I rewrote the present version.

Chapter 13. Socioreligious Status of Flute Musicians

1. Lomax, Folk Songs of North America, 225.
2. Twain, Letters from the Earth.
3. Larson, Complete Far Side.
4. Dye, “Stereotypes Lead Boys to Prefer Drums.”
5. Morris, Pillow Book of Sei Shoˉnagon, 195.
6. Sahagún, Historia General de Las Cosas de Nueva España, 100–104.
7. Sahagún cited in Carrasco, City of Sacrifice, 121. This is my translation.
8. Ibid., 127.
9. Both, “Aztec Flower-Flutes,” 281.
10. Stevenson, Music in Aztec and Inca Territory, 88–91.
11. Felber, “Music and Superstition,” 246.
 Not es to Ch a p t ers 13 a n d 14 211

12. Dunn, Everyday Life in Traditional Japan, 132.

13. Ueda in Lee, “Yearning for the Bell.” See Illustration 3, “Drawing of five hole
shakuhachi in Taigensho,” http://www.rileylee.net/Thesis14Mar06%20Folder/chap3
.html.
14. Lee, Yearning for the Bell.
15. Matisoff, Legend of Semimaru, Blind Musician of Japan.
16. Rooke, “Roadmaps for Spiritual Paths.”
17. Ibid.
18. Eshin, “Ten Oxherding Pictures.”
19. Sheng-yen, “Ten Ox Herding Pictures.”
20. Jang, “Ox-Herding Painting in the Sung Dynasty,” 61.
21. Ibid., 83.

Chapter 14. The Aesthetics and Power

of Flute Sounds, Timbres, and Sonic Textures
1. Boilès, Man, Magic, and Musical Occasions, 4.
2. Ha, Poetry and Music of the Classic Age, 20–21.
3. Stobart, “Bolivia,” Garland Handbook, 432–33.
4. The term “mirliton” also refers to membranphonic attachments used on several
types of African xylophones, such as the dzil of Ghana and the balofon of Senegal.
In those instruments, holes in their calabash or gourd resonators are covered with
membranes, such as spider web or sheep intestine. The marimba in Guatemala also
uses mirlitons on its wooden resonators, an African characteristic that perhaps even
influenced the Mayan xul in postconquest times.
5. Alegre, “Viento arremolinado: La flauta de mirlitón.”
6. O’Brien-Rothe, “Guatemala,” 729.
7. Personal email communication with Linda O’Brien-Rothe, October 13, 2011.
8. Olsen, “Aerophones of Traditional Use,” 319.
9. The term “chirimía” literally means “my chirper,” from chirriar (“to chirp”),
although the word is usually translated as “oboe” in a standard Spanish-English
dictionary. See Velázquez de la Cadena, New Revised Velázquez Spanish, 219–20.
10. Quoted in Lee, “Yearning for the Bell.”
11. Toru Takemitsu quoted in O’Grady, “Toru Takemitsu’s Valeria.”
12. Ha, Poetry and Music of the Classic Age, 11.
13. Morris, Pillow Book of Sei Shoˉnagon, 195–96.
14. Olsen, “Shamanism, Music, and Healing,” 344–45.
15. Bellenger, Bolivia: Panpipes.
16.  Stobart, “Bolivia,” Garland Handbook, 433; Stobart, “Bolivia,” Garland En-
cyclopedia, 2:295.
17. Olsen, “Distribution, Symbolism, and Use,” 44. Translated by the author.
18. Buch, “Fairy-Tale Literature,” 43.
19. Turino, Moving Away from Silence, 48.
212 Not es to Ch a p t er 14 a n d Conclusion

20. These ensembles could be tropas of tarka, musiñu, lichiwayu, kina-kina, siku,

julajula, or many other flute types. Listen to tracks 5–9 on CD 1 in Olsen and Sheehy,
Garland Handbook, as recorded by Henry Stobart.
21. Stobart, “Bolivia,” Garland Handbook, 432.
22. Dale A. Olsen, unpublished field notes, 1973.
23. In Morris, Pillow Book of Sei Shoˉnagon, 50.

Conclusion
1. Thompson, Motif-Index of Folk Literature. In the 1955–58 revised and enlarged
edition of Thompson’s monumental work, “flute” is indexed thirty times within
twenty-three motif categories. The largest category for the occurrence of “flute” is
Magic, where “flute” is indexed twelve times, “pipe” sixteen, “clarinet” four, “trum-
pet” five, and “musical instrument” appears fourteen times. Meanwhile, “object”
is indexed 755 times, and “magic” (including “magical”) itself occurs 3,923 times.
The motif category sex has only one occurrence of “flute,” so something seems to
be amiss with the Thompson motif-indexing process, in my opinion.
2. Authentic Breathing Workshop.
3. ThinkExist.
4. “I Am Simply My Breath.”
5. Lévi-Strauss, From Honey to Ashes, 331–36; Reichel-Dolmatoff, Amazonian
Cosmos, 115–16.
6. My complete 1974 interview with Eduardo Calderón is found in Olsen, Music
of El Dorado, 123–25.
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Index of Stories

Stories with Titles

“The Adventures of Magboloto” (Philippines), 83
“Aniz the Shepherd” (Uyghur culture, China), 69
“Autumn Streams Are Sky-Blue” (Korea), 121
Bhagavata Purana (India), 34, 58–63
“Big Mouth” (Quechua culture, Peru), 84
“A Black Jade Belt and the Flute to Calm Ten Thousand Waves” (Korea), 120–21
“The Black Prince” (Egypt), 55–57
“Breaking a Willow-Branch” (China), 98
“The Cauldron-Headed, Ax-Toothed Sister” (Turkey), 124–25
“Culture Heroes Discover the First Flutes” (Wogeo culture, New Guinea), 38–39
“Dengaka” (Japan), 153–54
“The Devil’s Flute” (Russia), 177
“Fate of Pongoktsina and Wife” (Hopi culture, United States), 127
“The First Flute” (Maya culture, Guatemala), 192–83
“The First Pashiuba [Paxiuba] Palm” (Yahuma culture, Brazil), 16
“Fisherman’s Pipe” (Korea), 184
“The Flower of the Lirolay” (Argentina), 34
“The Flute” (Ibo culture, Nigeria), 146
“La Flûte Mystérieuse” (France), 98
“The Fluteplayer” (China), 100–104
“Forgetting the Song: The Empty Masks” (Zuni culture, United States), 85
“Hard to Fill” (Ireland), 178
“The History of the Kyotaku” (Japan), 109
“How Hlakanyana Made and Lost His Flute” (Nguni culture, Republic of South
Africa), 79–81
“How Locust Tricked Coyote” (Zuni culture, United States), 84–85
226 I n de x of Stor ies

“How the Noble Fujiwara no Yasumasa Faced Down the Bandit Hakamadare”
(Japan), 163–65
“How the Parrot’s Beak Became Bent” (Yoruba culture, Nigeria), 77–78
“How the Partridge Got His Whistle” (Cherokee culture, United States), 75
“The Hunter and His Magic Flute” (Yoruba culture, Nigeria), 125–26
“Isicha Puytu” (Quechua culture, Peru), 138–39
“Jitu Bagadwal” (Garhwali culture, Uttaranchal [Uttarakhand], India), 137–38
“Kafunetiga Found Musical Instruments” (Kalapalo culture, Brazil), 108
“Komebukuro and Awabukuro” (Japan), 32–33
“The Legend of the Flute” (Brule Sioux culture, United States), 53
“The Man with a Vulture Wife” (Warao culture, Venezuela), 76
“Manwoldae Is Autumn Grass” (Korea), 30
“Moon and Flute” (Korea), 179–80
“Oh, It’s You!” (Lakota Sioux culture, United States), 54
“The One Who Turned into a Jaguar” (Warao culture, Venezuela), 118
“The Origin of Maize” (Yupa culture, Venezuela), 90–92
“Phoenix Terrace Song” (China), 106
“The Pied Piper of Hamelin” (Germany), 134–35
“The Pifuano Flute of the Chullachaqui Rainforest Spirits” (Iquitos, Peru),
141–43
The Pillow Book (Japan), 167, 185, 190
“Raja Donan” (Malaysia), 64–65
“Raman’s New Flute” (Vellore, India), 1–3
“The Rat Catcher from Korneuburg” (Vienna, Austria), 129–31, 133
“The Rat Catcher from Magdalenagrund” (Vienna, Austria), 133
“Riding the Ox Home” (China), 175
“Shakuhachi” (Japan), 153
“The Shepherd and the Samodivi” (Bulgaria), 66
“The Snake Charmer” (Japan), 123–24
“Song of the Flute: The First Eighteen Verses of Rumi’s Masnevi” (Iran), 148–49
“Spring Night in Lo-yang: Hearing a Flute” (China), 98
“Star-Boy” (Blackfoot culture, United States), 136
“The Story of Haburi” (Warao culture, Venezuela), 41–42
“The Story of the Flutemaker” (Lakota Sioux culture, United States), 46–49
“The Turtle, the Monkey, and the Jaguar” (Apinayé culture, Brazil), 13–14
“The Warao Legend [Haburi]” (Warao culture, Venezuela), 63–64
“The Woman Killed by Her Husband’s Spirit” (Warao culture, Venezuela), 63
“The Woodcutter and the Dancing Tiger” (Korea), 119
“Under the Green Old Oak-Tree” (Antigua, British West Indies), 35, 65, 145–46
“Yoshitsune’s Voyage among the Islands” (Japan), 113–16, 123
Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) (Mozart opera libretto by Schikaneder), 72,
122, 207
 I n de x of Stor ies 227

Stories without Titles

A female flutist (Thompson Indians, British Columbia, Canada), 42–43
Flute music causes the malevolent entities to dance (Tiv culture, Nigeria), 119
Flute music heard in the wind (Pawnee, United States), 99
Flute played to melt the snow (Hopi, United States), 6
A flute-playing peasant saves his own life by causing people to dance (Europe), 173
Genesis 4:20–21, 157
The goat-god Pan, a nymph, and the origin of the syrinx panpipe (Greece), 17
Kulele’s flute (Goodenough Island, Melanesia), 43–44
Lonely sounds (Haiku by Rev. John Seniff, United States), vii, frontispiece
A man who changes himself into a flute (Mande culture, west Africa), 34
Matthew 9: 23–26, 160
A musical duel between the satyr Marsyas and the god Apollo (Greece), 135–36
An old man observing herding: a poem by Ts’ui Yen (a.d. 1057–1126, China),
176–77
The origin of shepherd flutes (Hungary), 161
The origin of the ’ohe hano ihu (Polynesian culture, Hawaii), 54–55
Poem by Han Ziang Zi (China), 111–12
Psalm 150, 158–59
When somebody tooties the flutie (from Shrek Forever After, United States), vii,
epigraph
A young oxherder leads his ox under a tree (China), 177
Subject Index
Adonis, 110
aerophone: as acoustic speech surrogate, 31;
associated with fertility, 67; in Bible, 157;
double reed concussion-type, 134–35,
183; edge-type, xiv, 81, 106, 177, 180,
183; lip concussion-type, 84; sound
symbolism, 193–94; in “The Pied Piper of
Hamelin,” 135. See also aulós; ocarina;
panpipes; tibia; trumpet
Aesop, 73
aesthetics, xix, 15, 178, 184–5
Afghanistan, 150
Africa, 18, 20, 27, 29, 31, 34–35, 67, 79,
185, 211. See also specific countries and
peoples
Akan, 31, 35–37
alcohol. See beer
Alter, Andrew, 138
Aluku, 32
Amazon, 84. See also Amerindian perspec-
tivism; and specific locations and peoples
Amerindian cultures, 15–16, 18, 81, 88,
94, 108, 110, 181, 199, 205–6. See also
specific peoples
Amerindian perspectivism, 88, 197n3
Ampene, Kwasi, 32, 36
Anasazi, 86–87, 94
Andes, 16, 185, 202n9; animal fertility
rituals in, 93–94; fox in, 84; high-pitched
sounds in, 180–81; panpipes in, 76–77,
188; rainy season in, 94; symbolism of
flutes in, 67. See also specific locations
and peoples
animal: attracting of, 142, 179, 196; bond-
ing with flutes for power, 194, 196; bones
of, for flutes, 16, 18–21, 24–25, 47, 65,
72, 74, 79–81, 83, 107, 123; characteris-
tics of, 74, 161; combined with humans,
110, 119; cubs, 125; dances in imitation
of, 20; definition of, 204; designs on
flutes, 25; entranced by flute, 70, 72–73,
121, 133–34, 152, 173, 196; eradicated
with flute, 133–34; fertility of, 93, 95;
hunting of, 141–42, 145; imitation of, on
flute, 76, 107; listening to music, 70–71,
183; as musician, 4, 74–86, 108, 196;
ogre converts into, 141; parts of, 16;
pleading for life, 125; for protection, 122,
124–26; relationship to plot or moral,
33–34, 144–45; relationship with music,
141; sexual powers of, 53, 68; shapes of
for flutes, 29; sounds of as music, 198;
symbolism of, 74, 180; tales about, xv,
16; as totem, 53, 74, 76. See also specific
animals
animism, 74
antara, 6, 74
anus, 108, 142–44
Apinayé (Gê), 13, 15, 79, 123
Apollo, 135–36
archaeology: analyses from, xiv; ethnomu-
sicology of, 200; museums of, 181. See
also Moche; petroglyphs; and specific
locations and peoples
Argentina, xx, 32, 34, 186, 202
Arguedas, José María, 138
230 subjec t i n de x
Arundo donax. See cane
arunse, 91, 191
Asia, xx, 18. See also specific countries
aulos (aulós, auloi), 9, 135–36, 157,
160–61, 210n27. See also okuraulos
Austria, 129, 132
ayarachi, 76–77
aya tullu (also runa tulla),16
Aymara, 7, 25, 94, 180, 186, 188, 199–200,
205. See also Bolivia
Aztec, 168–69, 171–72, 181
bagpipe, 134, 178
balofon, 211n4
Balogun, F. Odun, 147, 208
bamboo: for clarinet construction, 67;
as classification system, 17; for flute
construction, 1–2, 9–11, 15, 17, 20,
22–23, 25–27, 38–39, 55, 69, 72, 76,
107, 113–15, 118–120, 151, 185, 207;
myths about, 23–24, 55, 112, 114, 146,
154, 156–57, 184; terms for, 22, 55, 209;
for tool construction, 59; for trumpet
construction, 67, 159. See also reed
bansuri, xix, 6, 138, 147, 151
Basso, Ellen, 82, 108
bear, 47, 71, 74, 125
beer: corn (chicha), 94; manioc (masato),
142–43
bell, 24, 31, 169, 172, 188
Bhagavad Gita, 192
Bhagavata Purana, 58, 62–63, 203
Bible, 157–60, 210n20, 210n23
Bierhorst, John, 84
bimusical participatory reflection, 209n18
bird: accompanied by singing, 105; bones
of, for flutes, 16; change into a, 141;
charmed or lured by music, 106, 119;
conversing with, 99; designs on flutes, 25,
200; as flute, 81; listening, 98; as musi-
cian, 75; shamanism and, 74; shapes of,
for flutes, 8, 29, 74; singing like a, 183;
sounds of, xvii, 41, 43, 77, 107, 184, 192,
198; as spirit helper, 33; symbolism of,
xvii, 74; as totem, 76. See also specific
birds
blackbird, 47
blood, 82, 136–38, 149, 172, 200
Blue Flute Clan, 87
body: of animal, 86, 88; decorations or
paint on, 82, 88, 169; of flute, 9, 41; of
human, 38, 60, 65, 111, 148, 170, 196;
parts of, 74, 120, 122–23, 126, 179. See
also specific body parts
Boilès, Charles L, xvi–xvii, 50, 146, 179,
200, 203
Bolivia: indigenous languages in, 199; music
or musical instruments from, 5, 65, 94,
96–97, 180–1, 186–88, 193, 199; music
symbolism in, 180, 186, 193. See also
julajula; kena; pinkullo; siku; tarka
bone: animal, 72, 107; condor, 74; deer,
18–21, 24; designs on, 24–25; eagle,
47; hare, 79–81; human, 16, 35, 43–44,
65, 74, 122–23, 138, 145–46; jaguar,
12–16, 79, 83, 123; panpipes from, 74;
partridge, 65; singing, 65, 146, 208;
talking, 16. See also antara; muhusemoi;
rondador
Brazil: indigenous languages in, 15–16, 42,
81, 84, 108; music or musical instru-
ments from, 6, 13–14, 42, 78, 81–82,
110–11, 123, 193; music symbolism in,
82, 84, 108
breath: of God, 17, 108, 151–53, 184; in
healing, 112; human mouth, 34, 107;
human nose, 37, 55; importance and
power of, 17–18, 59, 81, 95, 104, 106–8,
113, 115, 128, 132, 148, 153, 155–56,
158, 172, 178–79, 192–93; instruments
with sound of, xv, xvii, 135; as metaphor,
44, 75, 106, 184; and notched flute, 20;
sound of, 24, 112, 151, 184
Brown, Michael F., 203
Brown, Muriel Percy, 10, 12, 138
Browning, Robert, 134
Brule Sioux, 53, 64
Buddhism, xix, 10, 23–24, 109, 135, 147,
150, 153–54, 160, 173–77, 184
bugaku, 124
Buganda, 12, 18, 20. See also ndere
Bulgaria, 5, 65–66, 136, 193
calabash: for bowl, 90, 92; for globular
flute, 15; as a resonator, 211n4. See also
gourd
Calderón, Eduardo, 195
Campbell, Joseph, xvi

canary, 183
cane (Arundo donax): designs on, 25; fields,
34–35; for flute construction, 15, 35–36,
39, 150–51, 177, 181–82, 207n1. See
also sugarcane
Canelos Quichua, 16
Carvalho-Neto, Paulo, 67
cassowary, 17
chant, chanting, 37, 192, 194. See also song,
singing
Chenoweth, Vida, 41
Cherokee, 75
chest, 120, 130, 149, 169–70
chicha, 94
Chile, 9, 186. See also siku
China: Buddhism in, 153, 174; indigenous
languages in, 98; music or musical instru-
ments from, 25, 69, 72, 100, 174, 193–
94; mythology of, 95, 111, 174, 196. See
also dizi; Han Xiang Zi; paixiao; Uyghur;
xiao; xun; Yuefu
Chipayas, 186. See also Aymara
chirimía, 182–84, 211n9
chiriwano, 186
Christianity, 147, 157, 160, 171. See also
Jesus
clans, 87, 113
clarinet, 67, 166, 191, 193, 212n1
classification: of flutes, xviii, 4–10; of musi-
cal instruments, xiv, 17, 166, 200n2; of
oral literature, 199n9. See also organol-
ogy
Cobo, Bernabé, 77, 122
Cohen, John, 205
Colombia, 44, 81–82, 84, 193
colors: of clouds, 101, 103, 105; of flags,
130; of flutes, 132; of ribbons, 130; of
robes, 115; of tone (see timbre); of tree
bark, 136;
Comanche, 51
condor, 74, 76
courting flute, 51–52; classification of, 5;
love power of, 50, 52–53; negative power
of, 54; sound of, 53, 64; symbolism of,
200n2
cowherd, 30, 32, 58, 61–62, 152, 172. See
also gopıˉs
coyote, 84–85
curandero. See shamanism
subjec t i n de x 231
dance: by animals, 53, 58, 101, 119, 196;
among Asante, 36; among Aztec, 170; in
Bible, 158–59; until exhaustion, 38, 107,
120–21; of fish, 73; in Greek mythology,
136; in Japan, 124, 180; among Jews,
173; in Korea, 119–20; of Krishna, 60–
61; among Maya, 182–83; of nymphs,
66; among Quechua, 76–77; by shamans,
120; among Tiv, 120; among Waiãpi, 81;
among Warao, 76, 118; among Wogeo,
107; among Zuni, 95
death: auloi and, 135–36, 160; caused by
greed, 145–46; caused by seeing flutes,
41; caused by spirits, 137–38; flutes
and, 132–40; of flutist, 44; in Germany,
73; of ghost, 128; among Hopi, 128; in
Malaysia, 64; in Peru, 67; playing flute
before threat of, 123; among Quechua,
77; by sacrifice, 168–73; spells leading to,
133–36; symbols of, 76–77, 160
deer: bone of, 18–21, 24; dance, 182;
distant cry of, 156; falling down of, 59;
herd of, 59
deities. See gods
demon, 16, 58, 112, 114–16, 123. See also
ogre; spirit
dense unison, 188–89. See also texture
Desana, 44–45, 94. See also Tukano
dizi (ti-tzu), xv, 6, 25–27, 181, 199n12
dog, 1, 18, 74, 125–27, 139, 142, 155
drawing, 29, 171, 173–74, 176, 206n11
drum: among Akan, 36; in Bible, 159; from
Korea, 121; made from human skin, 74,
122; from Melanesia, 43; played with
chirimía, 183; played with flute, 121–22,
181–82, 186, 189; tuned, 31, 79; of war,
177; among Wogeo, 38, 107
dualism, 45, 186–88. See also yanantin
dzil, 211n4
eagle, 74, 86
Ecuador: indigenous languages in, 16; music
or musical instruments from, 5–6, 16, 74;
music symbolism in, 65, 67, 94. See also
pinkullo; rondador
elk, 53
embouchure, 9. See also mouthpiece
enchanting, enchantment, 34, 65, 115–16,
123–24, 130
232 subjec t i n de x
endere (also ndere), 20–21
England, 198
Erdoes, Richard, 53
ethnomusicology: definitions of, xiv, 198n7;
terms in, 18, 181
Etruscan, 135
Europe, 5–7, 17, 24, 31,41, 76, 121, 129,
132, 154, 162, 166, 172, 180, 188,
199n8–9, 200n2, 201n17 . See also
specific countries
fable, xv, 73
fairy, 106. See also sprite
fairy tale, xv, 72, 199n9
fangu-fangu, xv
feathers, 74, 76–78, 88, 101–2, 170–71
fertility: animal, xviii, 74, 93–94; deities,
85; festivals, 74, 183; human, xvii, 17;
plant, xvii, 89, 93; symbols of, 45, 67, 74,
82–83, 93–95, 107, 160, 193. See also
Kokopelli
festivals: in Bolivia, 94; in Brazil, 111; in
Chile, 9; in Ecuador, 67, 94; in French
Guiana, 81; in Ghana, 36; in India, 1;
in Japan, 33, 185, 189; in Melanesia,
43–44; in Mexico, 168–70, 181; in Peru,
74, 94, 181–82; in Venezuela, 18, 20
finger holes (also stops): for classification,
5–7; construction of, 18–23, 48, 183;
numbers of, 22, 28, 47, 55, 161, 181,
195; symbolism of, 108, 178
fish: charmed by flute, 73; dancing, 73;
flutes as, 81–83, 108; as flutist, 44,
81–83, 108; as food, 111; as metaphor,
59, 82, 149; symbolism, 29, 82–83; types
of, 63, 82
flauta, 158
flute: classification of, 4–10; definition of,
4; globular, 7–8, 15, 29, 45, 97, 194–95,
200n3; inventor of, 41; as metaphor,
29, 41, 75, 83, 108; panpipe, 6–10, 17,
44–45, 74, 76–77, 94, 100, 105–6, 173,
180, 186–88, 199n12; symbolism of, 15,
17, 27, 29, 45, 67–68, 74, 93, 95, 108,
160, 172, 180, 193; tubular, 4–6, 12, 15,
29, 44–45, 67–68, 82, 105, 200n3. See
also specific instrument names
folklore, definition of, 197–98n6
fox, 71, 84
Freemasonry, 121
French Guiana, 32, 81
fue, 185. See also komabue
fujara, 5
gagaku, 185
Galeano, Juan Carlos, 141
Garcilaso de la Vega, El Inca, 64
Garhwal, 137–38
Gê, 13, 15, 79, 123
genitalia, 95,
Germany, 134, 197n6
Ghana: indigenous languages in, 31–32;
music or musical instruments from, 32,
35, 211n4. See also Akan; odurugya
ghost, 117, 127–28
Gimi, 202n2
God (Yah, Yahweh), 17, 124, 148, 150–53,
158, 184, 192, 194
goddesses, 83, 99, 105–6, 111, 170, 206n6.
See also Toys-with-Jewels
gods: communication with, 37; exploits
of, 198; flute construction taught by,
54–55; heroes and heroines who are,
167; Hindu, 57, 63; of husbandry, 16;
Japanese, 164; messengers of, 72, 74, 77,
232; of shepherds, 17; tools of, 29. See
also specific gods
gold: as color of hair, 66; as color of tiger,
112; as material for flute, 16, 73, 121–22,
130–33, 146; as valuable commodity,
132, 146, 169–70
Goodenough Island, Melanesia, 43–44
gopıˉs (also gopis, gopee), 58, 61–62, 111
gourd, 15, 112, 182, 211. See also calabash
Grame, Theodore, 17, 201
Gray Flute clan, 87
Greece (also Greeks), 9, 17, 73, 135, 157,
160, 201n6
Guatemala, 181, 183. See also marimba;
Maya; xul
Haiti, 159
Han Xiang Zi, 109, 111–12, 196, 206n11
hare, 79–81. See also rabbit
Hari, 2–3, 59–60. See also Krishna
harihari (also harri-harri), 41, 63, 76
harp, 17, 157–59, 166, 184, 210n23
healing, 37, 87, 111–12, 149, 194–96

health, 12, 36, 43, 112, 140
Heaven (also heavens), xvii, 24, 58, 77,
101–6, 153, 158, 166, 193
Hebrew, 157–60, 210n23
Hell, 114, 166
Herdt, Gilbert, 202
hero, 73, 82–83, 106–7, 123, 167, 197n3;
culture, xv, 38,42, 67, 86, 99, 107–12,
191; as female flutist, 43; flute, xvii, 43,
50, 105, 109–12, 167; flute-playing,
110–11, 173; folk, 109–12; as inventor
of flutes, 41; supernatural, xviii. See also
specific heroes
heroine, 38, 43, 99, 106–7, 167. See also
Toys-with-Jewels
heterophony, 20, 189. See also texture
Himalayas, 10, 138
Hinduism, xix, 10, 33, 57, 147, 150–53
hokagapi, 48–50, 54
honkyoku, 109, 154, 156–57
Hopi: culture hero of, 86; flute of, 5, 86,
127–28, 193, 196; flute societies of, 85,
87, 127–28; katchina of, 95. See also
Kokopelli
horn: on head, 17, 114–15; hunter’s, 59;
mouthpiece extension of, 209n3; tiny, 84;
trumpet of, 32, 158
hsiao. See xiao
Ibo (also Igbo), 31, 146
iconography, xv, 15, 28, 74, 209n6. See also
drawing; painting; sculpture
iconology, xv
idiophone, 31. See also specific instruments
Igbo (also Ibo), 31, 146
improvisation, 31, 194
Inca, 64, 74, 77, 84, 122–23, 180
India, 61, 138, 147. See also bansuri; Lep-
cha; lingbunemia; lingbufeniam; murali;
Sikkim; tolling; Uttarakhand; Vellore;
venu
insect, xviii, 15, 110; as flutist, 84–87. See
also Kokopelli
Iquitos, 141, 143–45
Iran (also Persia), 148–51. See also nay;
Rumi
Islam. See Sufism
Italy, 9, 135
Izikowitz, Karl Gustav, xv, 199
subjec t i n de x 233
jaguar, 12–16, 74, 79, 83, 88, 118–19, 123
Japan, xx; Buddhism in, 153–55, 173–74,
109; festivals in, 189; music or musical
instruments from, xv, 5–6, 9, 12, 18,
22–24, 32–33, 108–10, 112–15, 117,
123–24, 147, 150, 153–56, 163, 167–68,
173–74, 180, 184–85, 199n12, 207n1.
See also fue; noˉ; shakuhachi
Jesus, 147, 157, 160–162
Jiménez Borja, Arturo, 67, 94, 138
Jubal, 157
Judeo-Christianity, 147, 157, 160, 171
Kafunetiga, 82
kagutu, 82–83
Kalapalo, 108
karökö, 42
katchina (also kachina, katcina), 95,
206n10
kaval, 5, 66, 193
Kechua (also Quechua), 94, 180, 200n13
Keil, Charles, 120
kena (also quena), xv, 5, 25, 64, 200n13,
205n3; played in a clay pot, 67, 138,
204n32
Kokopelli, 85–87, 94–95, 109, 112
komabue, 124
komagaku, 124
komusoˉ, 109, 154–55, 184
Korea, 30, 32, 34, 180; Buddhism into
Japan from, 153; flute and drum in, 121;
Komagaku music derived from, 124;
magical protection in, 119–21; music or
musical instruments from, 179–80, 184;
oxherd paintings from, 174–75
Krishna (also Krsna): characteristics of,
˙˙˙
152, 172; childhood of, 58; as enam-
ored by the cowherd girls, 58, 61–63;
female views about the use of the flute
by, 58–63, 151–52 ; as flute-playing hero
or Hindu god, 109, 111–12, 152–53;
flute-playing posture of, 10, 61, 175–76;
Hindu poetic literature about, 58; loves
of, 61–62, 151–52 ; thinking flute of,
34; type of flute played by, 138, 151–53,
209n6. See also bansuri; venu
Kudo, Elmer Takeo, 24
kuluta, 82
kyotaku, 109, 154
234 subjec t i n de x
Lakota Sioux, 45–52, 54, 194
Ledang, Ola, 97
Lee, Riley, 23, 173
Lepcha, 10–12
letters, Roman, 199n13, 209n14
Lévi-Strauss, Claude, 84, 193
lingbufeniam, 10–12
lingbunemia, 10–12
Ling Yü, 106
love. See under courting flute; magic; power
lyre, 135–36, 158, 210n23
macuextli, 169
magic: of animals, 74; bells, 188; for death,
134, 136, 138, 146; definition of, xvi,
200n16; direct and indirect, xvii, 132,
146; essences of, 196; flower, 34; flute,
xvii–xix, 10, 16–17, 33, 35, 43, 64–65,
72–73, 98, 108, 110–11, 118, 121,
124–26, 167, 173, 188, 196; fungus,
111; love, xvii, 45, 50–55, 64; meaning
of, 29; metaphors for, 24; in motif-index
of folk literature, 212n1; panpipe, 188;
popular categories of, xvi; power, 87, 93,
125, 138, 173; for protection, xvi, xix,
117–21, 123, 127–28, 173; shape-shift-
ing, 144; sound, 67, 134, 152, 176, 179;
sources for study of, xv, 12, 203n2; spell,
xvii, 57–63, 72–73, 123, 131, 173; sym-
pathetic, xix, 52, 65, 123; theories of, xix;
three-foot blade, 112; tools, 112, 191;
understanding, xiii–xiv; wand, 43, 125
Magic Flute, The (also Die Zauberflöte),
72–73, 121–22, 188, 199n9, 207n8
máhu, 86–87, 196. See also Kokopelli
mammal, xviii; as flutist, 83–84; globular
flutes in shape of, 29. See also specific
mammals
Mande, 34, 67
Mandela, Nelson, 79
Märchen, xv
marimba, 182, 211n4
marriage, 65, 104–5
masato, 142–43
masks, 82, 85
Mason, Gregory, 28
Matchett, Freda, 58, 203n14
Maya, 181–83
Melanesia, xvi, 17, 43–44, 199n12
membranophone. See drum
meneuga, 82
Mesoamerica, 7, 168. See also Guatemala;
Mexico
Mexico, xx, 168, 181. See also specific
peoples
Milomaki, 16, 109, 111
Minamoto clan, 113
mirliton, 181, 184, 211n4
molítu, 67
monkey, 13–16, 74, 79, 83, 123, 141, 198n7
moon: light, 101, 103–4, 179; phases of, 30,
62, 109, 116; as symbol, 24, 28, 62, 186
mouth, 21, 71, 78, 143, 161; breath from,
xvii, 6, 37–38, 55, 106; of cave, 142; of
fox, 84; of ogre, 125–26; open, 41; of
pitcher, 138; of snake, 41, 124; sounds
made by, 97; symbolism of, 82, 108; of
women, 41
mouthpiece, 10, 48, 78, 108, 181; auloi’s,
136; baffle type, 5, 74, 204n6; cross-
blown type, 6–7; duct (fipple) type, 5, 7,
9, 200n2; ductless type, 6, 22; notched
type, 5–6, 9, 18, 22; rimmed type, 4,
209n3
Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 72–73, 121,
188
muhusemoi, xvi, 5, 18–22, 41
muhuseño, 5. See also musiñu
Mundurucú, 42
murali, 138
Musicology, definition of, 198n7. See also
ethnomusicology
musiñu, 189, 212n20. See also muhuseño
mythology, definition of, 197–98n6
Nahuatl. See Aztec
nai, 5, 7, 151. See also nay; ney
Nambikwara, 108
Nasca: dates of, 25; globular flutes of, 8;
panpipes of, 8; tubular flutes of, 25
nay, 5, 147–48, 150–51, 184, 192, 209n3.
See also nai; ney
ndere (also endere), 20–21
New Guinea: flutes from, 38–39, 41, 45,
107, 185; symbolism of flutes in, 17,
40–42, 45, 67, 93, 107, 202n2. See also
Sentani; Wogeo
New Mexico, 95

New Testament, 157, 160
ney, 5, 151, 209n3. See also nai; nay
Nguni folklore, 79
nibek, 40–41
Nigeria, 31, 77, 120, 125, 146, 193. See
also Yoruba
nightingale, 58
noˉ, 174, 180
noˉkan, 180
North America, 40. See also courting flute;
and specific locations and peoples
Norway, 97
nose: blood from, 53, 137–38; breath from,
xvii, 6, 37, 55; flute, xvii, 37, 43–44, 54–
55; of katchina figurine, 95; rubbing as
a kiss, 55; as symbol, 108; whistle stick,
95. See also Kokopelli; ’ohe hano ihu
oboe, 4, 9, 134–36, 157, 160–61, 183, 185,
193, 200n1, 211n9. See also chirimía
ocarina, 7, 10, 29, 45, 200n3
Oceania. See specific locations and peoples
odurugya, 5, 202n13
ogre, 40–41, 72, 124–25, 144. See also
demon; spirit
’ohe hano ihu, 6, 37, 54–55, 193
oja igede, 31
okuraulos, 9
Old Testament, 157. See also Hebrew
organ (musical instrument), 158–59, 189
organology, xiv–xv, xx, 134–35, 172, 181,
199n12
organs, sexual, 44–45, 67–68, 82, 87, 95
Oséema, 90–93, 191
overtones, 101, 105, 156, 181,
ox-herding and oxen, 137, 172, 174–77. See
also cowherd
painting, xv, 62–63, 174–77
paixiao (pai xiao), 100, 105
Pames, 181
Pan, 17, 192, 201n6
panpipes, xv, 6–10, 17, 44, 76, 100–101,
105, 173, 180, 186–87, 199n12; mate-
rial for construction of, 6, 8–9, 17, 100;
symbolism of, 44–45, 74, 77, 94, 106,
187–88. See also siku; syrinx
parrot, 77–78, 183
partridge, 76
subjec t i n de x 235
Pawnee, 99, 194
peacock, 103
peccary, 142
penis (also phallus), 67–68, 87, 95
pennywhistle (also tin whistle), 5,
178–79
perspectivism, 72, 75, 8788, 197n3
Peru, xx: animals in, 138, 145; colonial
period of, 122; dances in, 77; folktales in,
84, 138, 141; indigenous languages in,
25, 76, 199n13; Japanese in, 156; music
or musical instruments from, 5–8, 67,
74, 93–94, 122, 138, 181–82, 186, 188,
194–95, 205n3; music symbolism in,
67, 97, 138; rainforest spirit from, 144.
See also ayarachi; Inca; kena; pinkullo;
Q’ero; saripalka
Pfeifen, 159
phallus (also penis), 67–68, 87, 95
phoenix, 103–4, 106
pied piper, vii, 130, 133–35
pífano, 6
pifuano, 73, 141–44, 146
pig, 93, 161
pinkullo (also pingullo, pinkillo, pinkillu,
pinkuyllu, pinqullu): playing method
of, 96; symbolism of, 67, 94, 96; vari-
ant spellings of, 5, 16, 94, 96, 200n13,
205n3. See also roncadora
pipe (instrument), 4, 16, 60, 103, 184, 191,
207n1, 212n1; in Bible, 157–60, 210n23;
and death, 134–36; -and-tabor (also
pito y tabor), 181–82. See also aulos;
panpipes; pied piper
pipe (smoking implement), 169
piri ra’anga, 81
pito y tabor, 181–82
Pogoro, 28–30
power(s), xviii–xix, 176; of animals, 53,
74–77, 81–83, 86–87; of bamboo, 24;
of beauty, 193–94; of breath, 17–18,
37, 55, 81, 106–7, 112, 192; of buzzy
sounds, 135, 193; to charm animals,
72–73; definition of, xvi; of designs, 28;
destructive, 117, 122, 132–34; dualism
as, 45; enchanting, 65; fertility, 93–95;
of flutes, xiii–xiv, xvii–xviii, 10–11, 18,
40, 50, 52–54, 67–68, 93, 105, 122, 132,
137, 151, 192; of flute sounds, 105–6,
236 subjec t i n de x
179–90; of God, 158; of gods and heroes,
109; good (higher), 133; to heal, 112,
121, 196 of human body parts, 74; love,
45, 50, 52–54, 73; magical, xvi–xvii, 50,
65, 93, 120, 125, 144, 173; of materials,
107; metaphors, 53, 77; of nature, 112;
protective, 79, 112–13, 117–28; sexual,
xvi, xviii, 53, 67–68, 151; shamanistic,
37, 74, 150; shinbone, 16, 65; supernatu-
ral, 12, 16, 29, 45, 52, 107–8, 120, 150;
Three, 24; of whistle sounds, 97, 134,
193
prairie chicken, 54
priest, 2–3; Aztec, 168, 170; Buddhist, vii,
109, 153–55, 173–74, 184; Catholic, 65,
95, 168
prince, 34, 36, 54–57, 64, 72–73, 100–104,
109, 122, 174, 203n12
princess, 55–57, 64–65, 104, 109, 116,
182–83
protection, xvii, 37, 47, 112, 196; aestheti-
cal, 117, 123–24; magical, xvi, 73, 107,
117–19, 120–22, 127, 173; physical, 117,
127–28; practical, 117, 124–26; sympa-
thetic magical, 122–23; unaesthetic, 118
Q’ero, 5, 93–94, 200n13, 205n3. See also
pinkullo; yanantin
Quechua (also Kechua), 94, 180, 200n13
quena. See kena
rabbit, 70–71. See also hare
Racy, Jihad Ali, 5
rainforest: Amazonian, 44, 73, 87; Brazilian,
84; Colombian, 44, 84, 193; Ecuadorian,
16; fishing in the, 82–84; Guatemalan,
183; Orinoco Delta, 18–20; Peruvian, 73,
141–44, 146; South American, 16, 82,
87–88, 185; Venezuelan, 18
rat, 73, 83, 129–136, 146, 196
rattle, 76, 88
rebirth, 17, 110, 123
reed, xvii; double-, 134–35, 160, 183, 193;
hut of, 101; lip-, 193; pipe, 159; Plains
(Japan), 113, 115–16; single-, 134, 193;
as tube for flute, 10–11, 17, 20–21, 24,
34–35, 103, 150. See also cane
reptile, xviii; as flutist, 77–81, 83, 110; as
symbol, 29; See also specific species
reversal: of gender roles, 42; of social order,
xviii, 40–42, 45, 107, 119
Róheim, Géza, 110–111, 173
roˉmaji, 199n13, 209n14
Roman Catholic Church, 67
Roman Empire, Holy, 132
Romania, 6
Romanization, 199n13, 209n14
Roman literature, 135
Roman sculpture (statues), 9, 201n6
roncadora, 181–82
rondador, 6, 74
Rumi, 148–51, 160, 192, 196
runa tullu (also aya tullu), 16
ryuteki, 185
Sachs, Curt, xv, 17, 160, 199, 210
Sahagún, Bernardino, 168, 171
Sambia, 45, 202n2
sandhill crane, 53
saripalka, 5, 96
satyr, 135
scale, 20, 186
Schao Sche, 102–6
sculpture, 9, 201n6
season(s), 45, 89, 94–95, 113, 115; dry, 168;
mating, 53; rainy, 94, 96
seljefløyte, 97
Seniff, John, vii
Sentani, 17, 201n4
sexual organs, 44–45, 67–68, 82, 87, 95
sexual power. See under power(s)
shakuhachi, xvi, 5–6, 147; in Buddhism,
xix, 23–24, 109, 153–57, 173–74; char-
acteristics of, 22; construction of, 22–23,
207n1; history of, 154; for meditation,
153–57; repertoire for, 109; symbolism
of, 23–24, 184. See also okuraulos
shamanism: animals in, 74, 88, 119; as
belief system, 32, 74; chanting in, 37;
curing in, 97; dance in, 119; females in,
41; flutes in, 32, 41, 43, 95, 150, 194–95;
language use in, 37; and perspectivism,
87–88; tobacco smoke in, 192; trance in,
194; transformation in, 88
shawm. See oboe
sheep, 66, 74, 124, 161–62, 177, 211n4
Shika no Toˉne (distant cry of the deer), 156
Shintoism, 189

Shrek, vii
Sikkim, 10–12
siku (plural sikuri, sicuri, sikura), xv, 7,
186–87, 200n13, 212n20
singing. See song, singing
Sinú, 81
Sioux: Brule, 53, 64; Lakota, 45–52, 54,
194
siyotanka, 53–54, 64. See also hokagapi
slit gong, 31, 181
snake, 41, 71, 83, 86, 123–24, 141–45
song, singing, 15, 28, 35, 37, 48–49, 62,
80, 94, 135, 177, 183, 192, 194; and
animal, 85, 87, 198; beautiful, 66, 82, 99,
111, 193–94; of bird, 43, 84, 100–101,
103, 106, 182–83, 198; bone, 65, 80,
145–46, 208n4; to charm women, 53,
62; competition, 156; congregational,
188; of death, 139; of female nymphs,
66; of fish, 82; and flute playing, 49, 52,
62, 79, 87, 93–94, 148, 150; happy, 2;
high-pitched, 180; lazy, 98; of life, 49;
love, 52, 54; of magic, 108, 120; to make
cows come home, 81; ritual, 82; sad, 2,
37, 66; short (kouta), 153; strange, 49;
texts, 57, 109, 121; of vulture dancers,
76, 88; about wind, 98–99, 194. See also
chant, chanting
Son-Gods of the Orient, 110
sound. See timbre
South America, xx, 110, 122, 197n3; Andes
of, 16–17, 67, 95, 180, 185; pre-Colum-
bian, 29; rainforests of, 17–18, 82–83,
87–88, 185; western, 7. See also specific
locations
Spanish chroniclers, 12, 172; Cobo, Ber-
nabé, 77, 122; Garcilaso de la Vega, El
Inca, 64; Sahagún, Bernadino, 168
spirit, xvi, 4, 12, 49, 87, 193–94, 196;
ancestor, 189; breath of, 108; of children
who perished in the Great Flood, 94;
Chullachaqui rainforest, 73, 141–44,
146; dangerous, 126, 137, 146–47, 181;
female hamlet, 45; globular flute to
evoke, 194–95; Hahuba evil, 63; helping,
98; holy (sapa), 50; husband’s, 63; initia-
tion, 110–11; Kokopelli katchina, 95;
mountain, 104–5, 138; nature, 10–11;
rainforest, 183; of Taihua Mountains
subjec t i n de x 237
(Schao Sche), 101, 104–5; throat of,
108; uplift of, 196; water, 11–12; whistle
sounds attract, 66, 137, 179; world of,
117. See also demon; ogre
spiritual, xiii, 167; attributes of flutes, xix,
52, 107, 147; behavior, xv; communica-
tion, 191; essence, 194; existence, 191;
home, 176; knowledge, 107; power(s),
52, 54, 196; realm, 172
sprite, 137–38, 179. See also fairy
squirrel, 90–92
Stevenson, Robert M., 172
Stobart, Henry, 65, 96–97, 180–81, 186–88
stone: flutes of, 7, 16; grave, 133; knife of,
47, 170; as metaphor, 41, 46, 116; neck-
lace of, 169; precious, 100–3, 107, 169;
slab of, 170; tools of, 22
stops. See finger holes
storyteller, v, xix, 50, 192
Sufism, xix, 147, 150–51. See also Rumi
sugarcane, 59, 93
suling, 5
sun: for drying flutes, 22; emperor, 103; as
metaphor, 115; mythology of, 16, 24, 45,
86, 186; rays or shining of, 53, 120–21,
130, 137; sacrifice to, 123, 171; as shaku-
hachi measurement, 22–24, 201n12; for
telling time, 47–48
syrinx, 17, 100–103, 105, 155, 194
sword, 61, 112, 164, 180
Taira clan, 113
Tanzania, 27–28
tapir, 141–42
tarka, xv, 5, 96–97, 180, 200n13
teponatzli, 181
texture: multipart, 188; sonic, 177, 179,
185, 188–89
Tezcatlipoca, 168–72
theurgy, xvii, 232
Thompson, Stith, 191, 198
tibia, 135, 160
tieu, 5, 25–27
tiger, 111, 119–20, 125
timbre (also tone color), xvii, 105, 154, 177,
179–85; of ensemble, 189; types of, 112
tin whistle. See pennywhistle
Tiv, 120
tobacco, 192
238 subjec t i n de x

tolling, 10–12 hero of, 41; musical instruments of: hari-

tone color. See timbre hari, 41, 63, 76; muhusemoi (deer bone
totemism, 28, 53, 74, 76 flute), xvi, 5, 18–20; narratives of, 41, 63,
Toys-with-Jewels, 100–106, 109, 192, 194 76, 88, 118–19; shamanistic music of, 37
trickster, xv, 74–75, 79–81, 84–85, 137 warrior, 56, 79, 163
trumpet, 4, 31–32, 84, 135, 158, 166, 191, washint, 5, 207n1
193, 201n1, 212n1; bamboo, 67, 159; water, 2, 33, 38, 42, 48, 54, 56, 58, 73, 81,
sacred, 42 118, 121, 125, 128, 130, 133, 149, 161;
Tukano, 44, 81, 84, 193 in cosmology, 16, 82; creatures, 83, 94;
tuning: differences of, 20, 188; of flute, 20, and fertility, 82–83; in flute construc-
80, 114; lack of standardization of, 18, tion, 22; magical power of, 44, 94; as
20; types of, 20. See also dense unison; metaphor, 66, 82; organ, 159; spirits,
heterophony 11–12, 66
turkey, 75 water buffalo, 174
Turkey, 150, 209n3 waterfalls, 11
Türkmen, Erkan, 148, 150–51 Waters, Frank, 86–87
tutu, 32 whistles and whistling, 7, 31, 194; of
Twain, Mark, 166 birds, 75, 77, 192; black, 132; as breath
transformation, 107, 192; eagle bone,
’ugâb, 158–60 47; of flute, as attracting spirits, 97, 137;
Uganda: indigenous languages in, 12, 18; golden, 132; high-pitched (shrill), 134,
music or musical instruments from, 180–81; of locust, 84; sounds (tones,
20–22; music symbolism in, 22 voices), xvii, 52, 66, 75, 136, 193, 196;
United States. See specific peoples of spirits, 95; stick, 95; symbolism of, 45,
Usarufa 41, 93 75, 77, 160, 192; of terrapin, 75; willow
Ute, 52 branch, 99. See also pennywhistle
Uttarakhand, 137–38 Wilbert, Johannes, 13, 82, 90, 191
u-wan-am-mi, 94 Wissler, Holly, 94
Uyghur, 69, 74 Wogeo, 38–41, 67, 107, 202n2
womb, 38
vagina, 45, 82 woodwind, 159
vaksen, 159 woodpecker, 47
Valencia Chacón, Américo Roberto, 77 worm, 33, 47, 130
Vellore, India, 1
Venezuela: indigenous languages in, 12, 18, xiao (hsiao), xv, 5, 25–27
42, 90; music or musical instruments xul, 181–84, 211n4
from, 18–19, 37, 67, 76, 93, 118, 191; xun (hsun), xv, 7
music symbolism in, 67, 193. See also xylophone, 211n4
Wakuénai; Warao; Yupa
venu, 147, 151 Yahuma, 16, 109–11
Vishnu, 57–58, 152 yanantin, 94, 187. See also dualism
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo, 88, 197 yawai, 44, 192
vulture, 76–77 Yoruba, 32, 77, 79, 125
Yupa, 90–93
Wachsmann, Klaus, 20 yuruparí, 81, 111
Waiãpi, 81
Wakuénai, 42, 67 zoomusicology, definition of, 198n7
wand, 43, 125 Zulu folklore, 79
Warao: case study of, 12, 18–20; culture Zuni (also Zuñi), 84–86, 94
 A lifelong flutist performing classical, jazz, and many
types of world flute music, Dale A. Olsen is a professor
­emeritus of ethnomusicology at Florida State University.
His many books include Music of the Warao of Venezuela:
Song People of the Rain Forest and Popular Music of Vietnam:
The Politics of Remembering, the Economics of Forgetting.
The University of Illinois Press
is a founding member of the
Association of American University Presses.
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