This is the third and last post on Elif Karlidag's piece. The first and second can be found here and here respectively.
Why was it necessary to move and add new frets transforming the traditional Satsumabiwa to its modern form? When I ponder this question, I am left with a puzzling answer. Because they were not in the correct place to play the notes of Japanese scale to begin with!
Why was this?
Examining the frets of the traditional Satsumabiwa, they form a mode of the traditional Chinese scale. This is similar in structure to the Western major scale, or Do mode - DO-RE-MI-FA-SO-LA-TI-DO. It is like playing the white keys on the piano starting from C. *
Satsumabiwa music predominantly uses the "scale" most commonly found in Japanese traditional music. This is the same as a mode starting, not on DO, but on MI - MI-FA-SO-LA-TI-DO-RE-MI. Starting to play on the piano from C again, surprisingly, it moves through most of the black keys on the piano.
So how do you make music requiring so many black keys when the frets are positioned to play the white keys?
The solution is found in blues guitar playing - by bending the strings. On guitar, the strings are bent horizontally along the fret; on the Satsumabiwa, they are pressed into the space between the frets.
Guitarists bend strings possibly up to a maximum of a third while playing, however, in traditional Satsumabiwa, the player bends the thinnest string anywhere up to three times as much. In fact, players play whole pieces bending one string at one fret. This is very difficult to learn, even for someone with a lot of musical experience.
Fretful Speculations
This poses a fascinating question. In the beginning, why were the frets not placed where the music could easily be played? Eventually, this is what happened with the developments leading to modern Satsumabiwa.
There's so much room for speculation and imagination here!
Could it be that the position of the frets on the instrument reflects an aesthetic rooted in Chinese musicology and in Confucianism in some way? The frets are positioned in a mode of the Chinese pentatonic scale, DO-RE*-FA-SO-LA, coincidentally the modal form most used with the Chinese Guqin, the instrument Confucius played.
Interestingly, the tuning of the traditional Satsumabiwa may also reflect this Confucian philosophy. The strings are tuned to the first three tones of the Chinese system of generating tones, namely a cycle of ascending fifths.
Moreover, the person traditionally associated with the creation of the Satsumabiwa in the mid-16th Century is a Confucian scholar, Shimadzu Tadayoshi 島津忠良 (1492-1568). He was the leading figure in Kagoshima at this time and effectively ruled along with his son. There is no record that he played the instrument. According to historical tradition it is said that he designed it, and composed a number of songs for the Satsumabiwa, for which asked the head of the Moso (Blind Priest) Biwa Guild in Kagoshima to create the music.
As a Confucian scholar and later a Zen monk. He left songs, writings and also an iroha poem with 47 stanzas in waka form, each starting on consecutive syllables of the iroha sequence. These were written on moral, Buddhist, Confucian and military themes. They formed the backbone of the education system in Satsuma thereafter. It is accepted that he had contact with Ming China through the Ryukyu Kingdom, now Okinawa. In Kagoshima, he is regarded as a saint-like figure to this day.
Is it possible that players from this time felt Shimadzu's aesthetic reflected the perfect form of the Satsumabiwa? I speculate that common respect for his aesthetic and philosophy is the principal reason the structure of the instrument remains static.
Beauty flourishes within limits
In my imagination, I see the instrument created in a particular way at the beginning to reflect a particular aesthetic and philosophy of music. Afterwards, the players developed music and a way of playing while preserving the construction of the instrument, even though, it wasn't the best suited to what they were trying to play.
The result is that Satsumabiwa players employ a way of playing that transformed the frets from a means to produce one tone only, to a bridge capable of playing any pitch within the range of an octave or more. It seems to me an example of how a philosophy of limitations open up an aesthetic with endless possibilities.
Amadera ya with traditional Satsumabiwa
Returning to Amadera ya. The piece is written for modern Satsumabiwa tuned to C using tuning no. 1. Since I play the traditional Satsumabiwa, which has four frets and four strings tuned to my voice, I decided to ask Elif about transposing the piece to suit my voice. She had no objection. This was my first difficulty cleared.
It was important to me to keep the tuning and playing style of the traditional Satsumabiwa. I wanted to extend the possibilities of the instrument as far as I could within its limitations. With this is mind, I started trying to find a way to produce the pitches in the transposed key by bending the strings vertically between the frets as traditionally done.
I think it was by a similar process of innovation that the first players began to explore ways of finding the sound they wanted back in the sixteenth century. This took some time, a fair bit of pain, and plenty of practice, however, in the end, I was pleased to perform it to the composer's satisfaction.
*
The top fret of the instrument is placed slightly lower than where it would normally be to play a second. This is intentional. The player is able to grip the four strings strongly at once, and play a 2nd relative to the open string with a fortissimo effect.
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