The song "The Two Horses of Genghis Khan" plays a special role in the film. On the surface, it seems to be about two horses. What is the basis of the song and why is it so important for the Mongols?
The history of the song originates in the Middle Ages, from the time of the Great Khans. What the author was thinking personally back then, I don't know. There is no scientific evidence of how it came to be. In the Middle Ages, many people were simply animalised, hidden in fables. One supposes behind the two horses are companions of Genghis Khan, who left the Khan but, however, later returned to him. Loyalty, for Genghis Khan, was the greatest virtue and fundamental for the conquest of such a huge empire. The song is currently so loved because it re-establishes our connection with Genghis Khan, with our history. Today, however, the song has gained another meaning and also stands symbolically for the divided country, for the separated brothers.
How did you find the protagonists of your film? The very old singer, especially, has a very impressive presence.
We were filming in Ulan Bator when the political unrest began. We decided to leave the capital as quickly as possible and drive to the countryside. In a provincial center, some 400 kilometers from the city, we wanted to go shopping at the market. Our driver then told of us that an old woman was living nearby, an old singer. We drove straight to her. She is over 80 years old. We didn't know if she would talk with us, let alone let us film her. She was simply marvelous, cracked jokes the whole time and was as lively as a young girl. In the end we spent four days filming with her. We couldn't take up any more of her time because she wanted to celebrate a birthday with seven or eight of her friends, a group birthday so to say. She still had to prepare a few things. She very much enjoyed working with us. She told us many stories about her life and from her childhood.
Urna's journey also takes her to the shaman. Is shamanism still deeply anchored in Mongolian culture today?
Shamanism, too, celebrated a kind of rebirth since 1990. In the years of Russian domination, shamanism - like Buddhism - was practiced and passed on only within the family sphere. The shamans were persecuted, the situation was not without danger. Today, unfortunately, there are also many charlatans among the shamans, who are exploiting the new situation. In the time of Genghis Khan, shamanism was named as the state religion. The Khan had his own state shamans, who may have manipulated this or that prophecy for the purpose of the ruler, of course.
Was it difficult to convince the shaman to let you film him?
Genuine shamans do not allow themselves to be filmed due to religious reasons, unfortunately. However, we were determined not to have any of the charlatans in the film. So we decided to re-enact the religious dance sequences exactly as they had taken place.
What is special about Mongolian music?
I'd like at this point to talk about the distinctiveness of the Long Song, which has been accepted by UNESCO as an object of world cultural heritage. This kind of song exists only in Mongolia and arose from the adaptation to life on the steppes. With this technique of singing it is possible to sing for several hours while on horseback, a single verse lasts often for anything up to ten minutes. The European style of singing has the mouth opening and moving very strongly, the Mongolian technique is similar rather to breathing in and out. On horseback, too strong movements of the mouth would not be without its dangers.
The Mongolians have a special relationship to music. Many of their tales are told in songs. Is that still the case today? Do Mongolians really sing "whenever they open their mouths"?
Unfortunately less and less. In the long winter evenings there are now, through modern media, other forms of entertainment than there were ten, fifteen years ago. In the past, in areas without electricity there were not many possibilities for entertainment in winter after half past four. So people talked a great deal with each other, told stories. People gathered in large yurts, the fire crackled and people told tales by candlelight. That's now being replaced by television and radio. Stories are told today chiefly on the stage and in books.
Do Mongols sing whenever they open their mouths?
Yes - Mongols like singing very much. In the countryside especially, singing is rooted just as strongly as before. In the city, people these days also use new technology and sing karaoke.
Singing is in our blood, passed on by nature and life on the steppe. You have to sing, otherwise you can't survive. You're often spending days in the saddle and all alone. Without singing, you'd perhaps have gone mad. The treatment of animals and our rituals are also tightly bound up with song. Maybe singing is a form of survival for us, a tactic in order to be able to exist on the steppe.
The horse head violin is a very special instrument. Is it still an integral part of musical culture in Mongolia?
Yes, it is and I am very proud that this culture is still being so well maintained. Without the horse had violin, Mongolian music would not happen. It is part of our identity, it is a purely Mongolian instrument. But I am very ashamed of the attack on the Palace of Culture in Ulan Bator last summer, in which all the instruments and costumes of the horse head violin ensemble, which we see in the film, were destroyed.
Many Mongols are still learning to play the horse head violin even today. It is a core element of the training at the High School for Music. What is new is that these days women, too, in contrast to before, are learning to play the instrument. In the past it was the preserve of men, a man's instrument.
Content provided courtesy of Atrix Films.
