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Baigaljav – The Horse Head Fiddle Maker

The master craftsman welcomes us with open arms. In front of us, stands one of the best and most well-known horse head fiddle makers in Mongolia. I look down the narrow passage to his workshop. Baigaljav invites us to follow him as he first takes us into his office. There, we are safe from the noises of the work going on; hammering, drilling, polishing and the whine of an electric saw. Baigaljav grew up in Odmaa’s hometown. He speaks like Odmaa without any appreciable dialect, as all the residents from the South Gobi. As we start to talk, he tells us very kindly that we can take us much time as we want.

He says that it was an unusual experience he had as a child that lead him to his calling. It was predestined for him, which is why he can talk of a calling or a vocation. I can just imagine him as a small child, listening to a musician as he played a Morin Khuur. In the vastness and the loneliness of the desert, the sounds of the instrument must have seemed to him to have been a gift sent from heaven.

Baigaljav trained as an instrument maker in a company run by the socialist state, the only organisation in Mongolia where horse head fiddles were made. In 1989, after the peaceful revolution, he had the chance to set up his own company, Egshiglen Magnai - Musical Instrumental Co. Ltd. It took him two years to make all the preparations but then the founding of the company proceeded as planned, with the active support of his wife. To start with, they made instruments to order for one dealer. Nine years down the line, business is going very well, well enough indeed to open his own shop in Ulaanbaatar. He is now 52 and has a staff of 40 employees.

Our conversation is punctuated by telephone calls and questions from his workers. Baigaljav wants to remain true to the philosophy of his company and to involve himself in resolving all problems. He checks the quality of the wood used for making the fiddles himself. He travels to the richly forested areas in the north of the country to make the selection in person. The wood is then stored in his yard for three years before it is used. He even sources the tree resin that is needed to play the fiddles from there. The strings of the instrument are lightly coated with the resin in order to give a fuller tone as a result of the increased friction when the bow is drawn across them.

In 2002, the President of Mongolia passed a resolution stating that each Mongolian family must own a horse head fiddle. Baigaljav now had to develop uniform specifications for the manufacturing of the horse head fiddles. When doing this, he focussed on the musical training rather than on trying to devise manufacturing shortcuts or on mass production. The richness of the craftsmanship, culture and music should be communicated and instilled into the consciousness of the people, through building and learning to play the Morin Khuur. A country of such diverse extremes like Mongolia, needs values that bring people and society together, today and into the future. The proof that his ideas are realistic and can be put into practice successfully is shown in the example of the street children of Ulaanbaatar, who are given the opportunity to learn the Morin Khuur as part of a state-funded project.

Baigaljav’s wife serves us with milk tea. We don’t begrudge Baigaljav the opportunity to have a welcome break in his story-telling. Our conversation still has some way to go. He leans back in his leather armchair and drinks his tea in small sips. Then he produces an ancient instrument from his collection, probably the oldest example of its type.

In the early days, the sounding chamber was made of stretched goat leather or leather from young camels. However in the 1960s, following the advice of a Russian musicologist, this technique was changed in favour of using wood to cover the sound box. Using animal skin as the covering had qualitative disadvantages that could impact on the resulting music. For the same reason, polyester is now used to make the strings, rather than horse hair. Already in the past, there were fiddles that lacked the main characteristic, the carved horse’s head. Today, with the exception of a few minor differences, the instruments are all the same size. In the east of Mongolia, they played on very large instruments and the musicians from this region were and still are considered to be the best in the country. In the west, a smaller version of the instrument was widely in use, that was more reminiscent of a basting ladle.

The Morin Khuur has its roots in a stringed instrument that dates from the era of the Hun and which is known today as the Tovshuur. It is an instrument that is plucked rather than bowed and is shaped like a ladle. The embellishment of the neck of the instrument doesn’t represent a horses head but that of a swan, a crocodile, a dragon or a lion. In the legend of the Morin Khuur, Khukhuu Namjil was the first to carve a horse’s head. According to Mongolians, the shape of the current fiddle dates from that time. Chinggis Khaan opened ceremonies and celebratory events with a recital by musicians playing Morin Khuurs. It is no different today, on official occasions like state receptions.

Enough of the theory says Odmaa suddenly. Baigaljav’s wife agrees with her. I close my notebook and pick up my camera. We go out into the passage. A slim man is standing in front of the door and Baigaljav shakes him warmly by the hand. He is the very well-known Burjate, Battuvshin, a famous musician from Ulan-Ude who is collecting his new instrument today. He tells us that the best horse head fiddles in the world are built in this workshop.

The Morin Khuur consists of a sounding chamber, the handle or neck and the bow. It is made of birch wood. Wood from the pine, fir or spruce is used for the top of the sounding chamber. The top of the neck consists of the horse head and the tuning pegs. There are two bridges between the strings and the sounding chamber. The strings are made of 365 stretched hairs, symbolising the number of days in the year, whereby one string is thicker than the other. Traditionally, the thinner of the two strings is made from the tail hairs of a mare while the thicker one is made from the tail hairs of a stallion. The number of hairs used can however vary and depends on the strength and the temperament of the player, namely how much pressure is applied to the strings when playing. The Mongols say that the two strings embody the Yin and Yang of the Asian world.

The bow used to play the Morin Khuur is either made of willow or birch. It weighs between 86 and 95 grams and is also strung with horsehair. Depending on the player, between 120 and 250 horse tail hairs or polyester filaments are used.

In the case of fiddles that are played in an orchestra, there is a standard for the construction of the Morin Khuur in order to achieve a uniform sound picture. The lower, large bridge should be 38 mm high and 73 mm wide, while the upper , smaller bridge is 22 m high and 30 mm wide. The neck is 770 mm long. The size of the area of the strings that should be used to create the sounds is defined as being 440 mm. The tuning pegs are 150 mm long. The upper part of the sounding chamber is 200 mm wide; the lower part 280 mm. The chamber is 320 mm high and 100 mm deep.

The master craftsman laughs about the number game. No construction - no music! But we are truly impressed. We sit down again in the comfortable leather armchairs. I look a little worriedly out of the window. The journey back into town is going to test our patience as we have to take three different buses. Odmaa taps her watch. I know. We will have to leave soon.

But I still have a question for Baigaljav . What was the childhood experience that lead him to follow his chosen career path? He looks at me surprised.

He grew up as part of a nomadic family in the South Gobi. One day, while the young Baigaljav was wandering in the desert, he came across an object that he didn’t recognise. His curiosity was aroused. He hid it amongst his small stash of possessions. At home he told his family the story of his find. His mother wanted to know more and went with him to see what her son had found. As she had suspected from what the boy had said, it was a horse head fiddle. The child was allowed to keep his treasure but his mother had to carry out some running repairs. He started to play the fiddle and over time, his virtuoso musical skills developed. Unfortunately however, the instrument was destroyed by some careless act by his brother and Baigaljav has still not really come to terms with the loss. His immense love of music pushed the ten year old to make his own fiddle. This was the first instrument made by the boy who would become the famous craftsman. And he still has it to this day.

Traditional and modern instruments

Stages in the construction of the Morin Khuur.

The master craftsman in his workshop.

In front of his workshop, in the town’s jurte settlement.

The legend: “Khukhuu Namjil“

Many years ago, a young man named Khukhuu Namjil lived in the east of the country. He was known far and wide as an excellent singer. One day, a long way from home, he was letting his horse graze on the banks of a river when a young, enchanting girl rode out of the waters towards him. She spoke to him and persuaded him to ride with her to her parents. He stayed there for several days and entertained the family with his singing. It didn’t take long until it the decision was made that the young couple should marry.

Even though the young man was happy in his new family, after a while he was drawn back to his own family, particularly to his truelove who he had left behind there. Between them, they agreed that he should split his time between the two families and the girl allowed Khukhuu Namjil to leave, giving him a fawn-coloured horse for the journey. With this horse, he would be able to ride each day to be with his wife and family but then at night, he could return to his original family and truelove. He must however ensure that the horse should be allowed to stop at a reasonable distance before the man reached his own jurte so that it would have a chance to recover its breath.

He headed off on his fawn-coloured horse. For three years, he spent his days with his wife and family but at night, he returned to his far-away truelove. Then one day, when he forgot to give his horse time to rest before getting home, his wife became suspicious and taking a pair of scissors, she killed the horse by stabbing it.

For three long months, despairing at not being able to get back to his truelove, Khukhuu Namjil ate nothing. Finally, he carved a likeness of the head of his dead horse from one of its bones and made himself a fiddle that he strung using horse hairs. From that day on, he accompanied himself on that fiddle as he sung his sad and mournful songs.