4. Tuva Throat Singers' Day & The Shamanic Ritual
- cerenturkmenoglu
- Apr 20, 2020
- 8 min read
Throat Singers’ Day is one of the most important celebrations in Tuva. Although it was declared an official holiday only four years ago, people have been celebrating it for a long time. Throughout the week, the city fills with ceremonies, festivals, competitions, and concerts. The throat-singing style called khöömei is one of the elements that makes Tuvan music so unique. This busy week was going to be just as intense for me as it was for the throat singers.
The celebrations began on August 15, together with Republic Day. There was something happening in every corner of the city—archery and wrestling tournaments, a traditional clothing parade, dance performances, and a market of handmade crafts and local products in the main square. In the evening, a Republic Concert was held at the Tuva National Theatre. Alongside dance and music performances, three artists from different Turkic republics played music from their own cultures. The president of Tuva gave a speech wearing traditional clothes, and the evening also included a performance that highlighted shamanic culture. I have to say, every performance was remarkably professional. From the musicians and dancers to the sets and lighting, everything was carried out with great precision.
The day after Republic Day, on August 16, the Khöömei competition was held. Singers from all over the country, as well as from different parts of the world, came together at the Tuva Cultural Center. Because the number of applications was so high, it was decided that this year’s competition would focus only on the sygyt style. Sygyt means “whistle” in Tuvan. In this style, the singer produces two sounds at once: a deep fundamental tone and a second, high-pitched overtone resembling a whistle. Using this throat-singing technique, performers can sometimes generate three or even four tones simultaneously. In addition to various styles, höömey also carries regional characteristics; Tuva’s keen-eared listeners can often tell which part of the region a singer comes from just by their singing style. Like everyone else, I was excited for the competition—not only to listen but also because it would begin with a presentation I was giving.
Since the purpose of my visit was to study Tuvan bowed instruments, I had met with the director of the Cultural Center to express my wish to give a presentation about Turkey’s traditional string and plucked instruments and to share some aspects of our musical culture. They welcomed the idea warmly and kindly arranged a time slot for my talk on the morning of the competition. My friend Aziyana, who speaks Turkish, translated for me, and I presented the main bowed and plucked instruments of Turkey, starting with the rebab, supported by audio and video examples. In addition to the contestants and the audience, a news crew from Tuvan television was also there to record the event. After the presentation, they interviewed me briefly, and that evening I was surprised to find myself on Tuvan TV. The next day, an elderly woman in a music shop recognized me from the news—a small but delightful surprise.
The day after the full-day competition, August 17, was Khöömei Singers’ Day. The winners would be announced that evening at the grand concert in the National Theatre.
The Khöömei tradition holds great importance for the Tuvan people. This style of music, born out of nomadic and shamanic culture, is also found in similar forms among the Altaians and Mongolians. Khöömei, or throat singing, involves skillfully controlling the throat and using the mouth and sinus cavities to produce harmonic overtones above a fundamental pitch.
Höömey Singers’ Day began with a shamanic ritual. Early in the morning, a large group gathered at the Tuva Cultural Center, and we set off by car toward the Khöömei Singers’ Ovaa, where the ritual would take place. In Tuvan, ovaa means hill or burial mound.
Aldın Bulak
Singers’ Hill, located in Aldın Bulak, about 45 km from Kyzyl. Aldın Bulak, meaning “Golden Spring,” is an ethno-cultural tourism complex set in a lush valley along the Yenisei River. Visitors can learn many aspects of Tuvan culture here. The site includes traditional yurts for accommodation, local cuisine restaurants, ceremonial spaces, and a school of höömey. The yurts are arranged according to cosmological principles, based on the universe and planets, and designed following Feng Shui teachings to bring health and good fortune.
Khöömei Singers’ Hill, part of Aldın Bulak, stands at a breathtaking spot overlooking the Yenisei River. The monument there is said to contain, in its foundation, nine treasures, coins from various countries, and stones from four continents, built with five tons of rock.
Besides Höömey Singers’ Hill, the complex includes several other ceremonial sites. One hill holds a two-meter Buddha statue positioned to face the sunrise, while another features the Shambhala Gate*, located between two rock formations and reached by climbing ninety-nine steps.
Aldın Bulak offers visitors an active way to experience traditional Tuvan life—fishing, horseback riding, archery, milking goats, cheese-making, and even learning the art of Khöömei from master singers—or at least trying to.
The Shamanic Ritual
This ritual was held to honor and bless the sacred höömey culture of Tuva. From the first light of dawn, throat singers dressed in their traditional clothing began gathering at the hilltop. In Tuva, as in all aspects of their culture, clothing carries deep connections with nature. For example, the upward-curved tips of their boots are designed to avoid harming or crushing the grass beneath their feet, while the pointed tops of their hats symbolize the peaks of mountains.
At the Khöömei Singers’ Hill, a central pole surrounded by stones stood at the heart of the site, encircled by smaller poles representing each style of throat singing—khöömei, kargyraa, sygyt, borbannadyr, and ezengileer. Each wooden pole was carved with unique motifs. Between them, colorful cloth strips—chalama, or prayer ribbons—fluttered in the wind blowing along the Yenisei, carrying wishes from those who had tied them.
Before the ceremony began, we prepared our chalama. We tore six fabric strips—white, black, yellow, red, green, and blue—each color representing one of the Buddhist prayer flag elements. We tied the strips together with white on top, so that our path would be as pure as the color itself, then braided them.
Meanwhile, the shaman began preparations. He stacked pieces of wood into a small tower to build the fire, placing offerings of food in between for the cher eezi—the spirit or owner of the land. The Tuvans believe every part of nature has a spirit and a guardian—mountains, rivers, forests, springs. Offerings are made to show respect and maintain harmony. Besides food and coins, they believe the greatest offering one can give is music.
After arranging the wood, the shaman mixed milk, barley flour, and juniper leaves. Using a ritual spoon called tos karak (meaning “nine eyes”) with nine compartments, he sprinkled the mixture onto the firewood and the ground. Then, burning a handful of juniper, he circled each pole representing a khöömei style, wafting smoke over them for purification. When this was done, he returned to the fire to dress in his ceremonial attire.
Shamans make all their ritual garments themselves, including the curved boots and pointed headdress. His outfit, adorned with beads, seashells, and small bells to frighten away evil spirits, was heavy—about 40 kilograms. Over his head, he wore an elaborate headdress made of eagle feathers. He lit the fire and began fanning the flames with another fan of eagle feathers.
One of the shaman’s most sacred objects is the düngür, a hand drum he makes himself and plays with a beater called orba. In shamanic belief, the drum is a powerful tool—the vibrations cleanse the person and drive away illness and negative energy. The sound of the drum calms the spirits of earth, sky, and water, while the attached bells repel evil spirits. Fire, too, is a purifying force; it is believed that to heal an illness, the fire must be fed so that its strength can be passed to the sick.
While the shaman tended to the flames, others continued sprinkling milk with the tos karak, including the Minister of Culture of Tuva. We placed our instruments and belongings at the base of the main pole so they too could receive purification from the milk. Bottles of milk were passed around, and everyone took a few sips. Milk, produced by a mother for her young, is seen as the purest and cleanest of substances and is used in rituals for its purifying power.
The ceremony was led by Lazo Mongush, one of Tuva’s most respected and experienced shamans—known particularly as the shaman of musicians and throat singers. When he was ready to begin, he called everyone to gather in a circle around him. The elder throat singers sat on chairs, while the rest of us stood. The shaman walked around the circle, sprinkling milk onto the chalama ribbons we had braided earlier. Then we untied the braids, made a wish, and fastened the ribbons to the line strung between the poles. It is said that when the wind from the Yenisei shakes the chalama loose, allowing it to fly freely, the wish comes true. Leaving our ribbons loosely tied, we returned to the circle.
The shaman began striking his düngür. The ritual had begun. As the flames grew stronger, so did the rhythm of the drum. Around us, everything fell silent; all ears were on the deep, pulsing beat. Then the shaman began his khöömei. As his voice strengthened, he turned the drum toward the fire, tracing circles in the air, as though shaping the flames with his hand. He took a deep breath and called on all the throat singers to join him. “First, kargyraa,” he said. The singers began in the deep growling kargyraa style. Then he called out, “Sygyt!” Eagles soared overhead, the wind from the Yenisei whispered past our ears, and the singers shifted to the high, whistling sygyt, sounding like dozens of birds singing in unison. For a moment, time seemed to stop—the wind, the birds, and the voices blended into one. The shaman kept drumming and circling the fire. Strangely, not only the flames but even the clouds above began taking shape, forming outlines that resembled animals.
The bells, the drum, the khöömei, and the fire all grew in intensity—then slowly quieted and settled.
The shaman struck the drum one final time.
The purification was complete. Gratitude had been offered to nature, and good wishes shared.
When the ritual ended, everyone clapped joyfully and called out together, “Höömeyçiler hünü bile!” (“Happy Khöömei Singers’ Day!”). Then, following tradition, we all walked clockwise around the main pole three times. During this, I spoke with Koşkendey, the head of the Tuva Cultural Center, who asked me how I had found the ritual. I told him I was deeply moved and admired how devotedly they preserve and continue their traditions. He replied, “Shamanism is our ancestral heritage; Buddhism is our school of life. Here, the two coexist in harmony, intertwined as one.”
After the ritual, we left Aldın Bulak and drove back toward the city. On the way, Nachyn called: “We have rehearsal for the Khöömei Singers’ Day concert in an hour at the National Theatre—see you there.” By then I was growing used to how spontaneous life in Tuva could be—and even starting to enjoy it. My violin was with me, so we turned toward the National Theatre and continued our journey through the green steppes and shadowed mountains.
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* Shambhala Gate: Shambhala (or Agartha) is a legendary civilization with advanced technology believed to exist underground.
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