A French Conference on Annamite Songs (1937)

[The original French text is here]

Mr. Nguyen Tiến Lãng is on a winning streak.

After captivating the Annamite audience at the Samipic [Société d’Amélioration Intellectuelle et Morale du Peuple Indigène de la Cochinchine - Society for the Intellectual and Moral Improvement of the Indigenous People of Cochinchina] the day before yesterday, he again achieved a resounding triumph yesterday with a French - and French-speaking Annamite - audience, so numerous that the vast hall of the Saigon Philharmonic [Society] was far too small to accommodate them.

All of the regulars of the Alliance Française lectures were there, packed like sardines, some seated, others standing, some even perched at the wide-open windows.

High school students from the Chasseloup-Laubat and Pétrus-Ký high schools, pupils from the Paul Doumer school, violet schoolgirls from the Mayer Street school [Lycée Marie Curie?] and boarders from private institutions - all of the studious youth of the southern capital came to hear the young speaker, whose considerable writing talent had been known to them for many years.

Outside, a multitude of cars, lined up in a double row in the street, attested to the status of many of the listeners, both men and women, who belong to the intellectual, commercial, and administrative elite of our city.

We noted the presence, in the front row, of the Governor of Cochinchina [Pagès], Madame Christiane Fournier, Colonel Pacaut, and Doctor Tung [Nguyễn Văn Tùng] - but how could one list all the names without risking regrettable omissions?...

At precisely 9:00 p.m., Mr. Valençot rang the presidential bell, and silence immediately fell over this bustling hive.

The headmaster of the Chợ Quán high school [Lycée Pétrus Ký] introduced the audience to a very young Annamite, a slight, slender young man in his gray wool suit, with such a shy demeanor, yet such intelligent eyes!

In a lengthy address, Mr. Valençot delivered a magnificent eulogy to the author of Sweet Indochina, who perfectly embodies the union of the pen and the brush, the marriage of two civilizations: that of France and that of Annam.

Then, our amiable friend Nguyễn Tiến Lãng took the floor.

Without going all the way back to the Flood, the interesting talk - illustrated in transcription by the playing of half a dozen judiciously chosen records - evoked a very distant past.

The earliest Annamite song that has come down to us, and which every Annamite even slightly curious about their national history knows by heart, dates back to around 40 BC, to the heroic era of the two Trưng sisters, queens who liberated the country from Chinese rule.

But not all the ancient songs of the land draw their inspiration from war. Their repertoire preferentially celebrates the work of peace, the joys and sorrows of daily life.

The charming speaker began by reviewing the lullabies that lulled him to sleep as a child, and which peasant women still whisper into the ears of babies lying on hammocks, swaying rhythmically.

Then there are the simple melodies with which women transplanting rice adorn their hard labor in the rice paddies of the three regions, feet sinking into the mud of the deltas and their backs bent under the sun or the drizzle.

Next came musical idylls, simply melancholy or candidly amorous: the hò and vè of young men and women; the hát xâm of itinerant blind musicians or the singers of Khâm Thiên; the hò khoan of porters and carters; the trống quân song from after Tết and the mid-autumn season; the countless ca and lý of the sampans of Halong Bay and the Perfume River; the languorous notes bequeathed by the Chàm people of Tonkin and the cải lương of Cochinchina.

Mr. Nguyễn Tiến Lãng, who was greeted with enthusiastic applause on numerous occasions, concluded the evening around 10:30 p.m. with a stirring appeal to his compatriots, urging them, with a jealous pride to preserve their rich folklore, steeped in gentle poetry—an oasis of pure art in this materialistic era of social demands and the bitter struggle for existence.

As soon as he had finished speaking, this distinguished attaché to the office of His Majesty Bảo Đai, was surrounded by a throng of charmed people, beginning with Mr. Pagès.

By all accounts, this 5th of March, 1937, should be marked as a red-letter day in the literary annals of the Pearl of the Far East.

Source: "Une conférence française sur les chansons annamites," L'Impartial 6 mars 1937, 2.

Nguyễn Tiến Lãng was a young public intellectual who had a dual orientation toward French / Western culture and values and the culture and values of Vietnam. (He was 28 years old in 1937). This article describes a remarkable moment when a lecture hall in Saigon was filled beyond capacity with a French and a Francophone Vietnamese audience eager to learn about Vietnamese music -- something that both the French and Vietnamese listeners felt that they needed to learn more about.

The article notes the largely teen audience coming from Saigon's most elite high schools. These were institutions where the lessons were taught in French. European culture and values were elevated above all else. Nguyễn Tiến Lãng had previously given this talk in Vietnamese to a Vietnam audience as the Société d’Amélioration Intellectuelle et Morale du Peuple Indigène de la Cochinchine (the "Hội Nam Kỳ Trí Đức Thể Dục" in Vietnamese).

In the 1937 there was not yet any movement to create Vietnamese songs using Western methods. A couple of songwriters had made early attempts at this, but this music was then unknown to the public at large. Just what kinds of music did the young people attending the Chasseloup-Laubat, Pétrus-Ký, Paul Doumer and Marie Curie schools listen to? They likely listened to Western popular songs  that they heard on records, in films or on the radio or maybe Western classical music. The young men might have sung some French scouting songs. They were city dwellers and Vietnamese "traditional" music was probably not a part of their lives.

I conclude this because the article makes it seem like Nguyễn Tiến Lãng's talk is revelation to this audience. He describes musical activities that are foreign to their lives. Especially the folk music that was integrated into the daily lives of the peasant majority in Vietnam. It has always been hard for educated Vietnamese to view the peasantry as anything but backwards. Yet, the peasantry offered the people of Vietnam music that could proudly represent the Vietnamese people's national ambitions.

It was ludicrous to date the earliest Vietnamese songs to the time of the Trưng Sisters. We only know pre-20th century Vietnamese music through vague historical writings. This music was neither notated nor recorded until the very late 19th century. Nonetheless, in 1937 Nguyễn Tiến Lãng and his audience could still be aware of witness the everyday musical activity of their nation. Folk songs and theatrical forms were still very much apart of Vietnamese music life throughout Vietnam's laboring classes and peasantry.

Nguyễn Tiến Lãng encouraged his audience to value this hitherto unvalued music as way of elevating their own nation and its heritage. The French also had an interest in preserving an unchanging, exotic culture in order to bring a native color to their greater empire. 

Several very important French figures were present and supportive of this lecture. There was a French military representative - Colonel Pacaud. I know nothing more about him. Paul Valençot was the principal of the Lycée Pétrus Ký. Christiane Fourier was a journalist and author living in French Indochina who was very sympathetic toward Vietnamese national aspirations. Pierre André Michel Pagès was the governor of Cochinchina from 1934 to 1939. His major contribution to Vietnamese musical history was his financial support for Nguyễn Văn Tuyên's 1938 tour of Vietnam where he presented his newly composed Westernized songs.

In 1937 it would be impossible to know how thoroughly Westernized Vietnamese music would be today. But the clues are there. A young elite audience in 1937 wanted to believe in the music of their nation, but this music was largely foreign to them. Most importantly, the music that Nguyễn Tiến Lãng presented would become more and more foreign to their daily lives.

Une conférence française sur les chansons annamites (1937)

M. Nguyen-tien-Lang marche de succès en succès.

Après avoir conquis, avant-hier, le public annamite de la Samipic, il s'est encore taillé, hier, un joli triomphe auprès du public français--et annamite francisant--si nombreux que la vaste salle de la Philharmonique de Saigon était manifestation trop exiguë pour le contenir.

Tous les habitués des conférences de l'Alliance Française étaient là, pressés comme harengs en caque, les uns assis, d'autres debout, d'autres même perchés aux fenêtres grandes ouvertes.

Lycéens de Chasseloup-Laubat et de Pétrus-Ky, élèves de Paul Doumer, collégiennes violettes de la rue Mayer, pensionnaires des institutions privées, toute la jeunesse studieuse de la capitale du Sud avait tenu à venir écouter le jeune conférencier--dont le beau talent d'écrivain lui était connu depuis de longues années.

Dehors, la multitude des automobiles, rangées en double haie dans la rue, attestait la qualité de beaucoup d'auditeurs et auditrices, appartenant à l'élite intellectuelle, commerciale, administrative de notre ville.

Nous avons remarqué la présence, au premier rang des fauteuils de Monsieur le Gouverneur de la Cochinchine, de Madame Christiane-Fournier, du colonel Pacaut, de docteur Tung,--mais comment citer tous les noms sans risquer de commettre de regrettables omissions?...

A 21 heures précises, M.Valençot agita la sonnette présidentielle, et le silence se fit aussitôt dans cette ruche bourdonnante.

Le proviseur du lycée de Cho-quan présenta à l'auditoire un tout jeune Annamite, gringalet, mince dans son complet européen de laine grise, à l'allure si timide, mais aux yeux si intelligents!

Dans une longue allocution, M. Valençot fit un magnifique éloge de l'auteur d'Indochine la douce, qui concrétise on ne peut mieux l'alliance de la plume et du pinceau, le mariage de deux civilisations: celle de la France et celle de l'Annam.

Puis, notre sympathique ami Ng.-tiên-Lang prit à son tour la parole.

Sans remonter jusqu'au déluge, l'intéressante causerie--phonétiquement illustrée par l'audition d'une demi-douzaine de disques judicieusement choisis,--évoqua un passé très lointain.

La première chanson annamite qui nous soit parvenue, et que sait par coeur tout Annamite tant soit peu curieux de son histoire nationale, date en effet de l'an quarante environ avant Jésus-Christ, de l'époque héroïque des deux soeures Trung, les reines libératrices de la domination chinoise.

Mais tous les vieux chants du pays ne puisent pas leur inspiration dans la guerre. Leur répertoire, célèbre de préférence les travaux de la paix, les joies et les tristesses de la vie quotidienne.

Le charmant orateur passe en revue, d'abord, les berceuses qui endormirent son enfance, et que les paysannes continuent à murmurer à l'oreille des poupons couchés sur les hamacs au balancement rythmé.

Ensuite, ce sont les airs naïfs par quoi les repiqueuses agrémentent leur dur labeur dans les rizières des trois Ky, les pieds enfoncés dans la boue des deltas et le dos courbé sous le soleil ou sous le crachin.

Viennent les idylles musicales, simplement mélancoliques ou candidement amoureuses: les ho et les vè des jouvenceaux et des jouvencelles; les hat-xâm des aveugles ambulants ou des chanteuses Khâm-Thiên; les hô-khoan des portefaix et des charretiers; le trông-quân de l'après Têt et de la mi-automne; les innombrables ca et ly des sampaniers de la baie d'Along et de la Rivière Parfumée; les notes langoureuses léguées par les Chàm du Tonkin et le cai-luong de la Cochinchine.

M. Nguyên-tiên-Lang, frénétiquement applaudi à maintes reprises, termina la soirée, vers vingt-deux heures et demie, par un vibrant appel à ses compatriotes, pour les inviter à conserver avec une fierté jalouse leur riche folklore, tout imprégné de poésie suave oasis d'art pur dans ce temps matérialiste de revendications sociales et d'àpre lutte our l'existence.

Dès qu'il se fut tu, le distingué attaché au cabinet de S. M. Bao-Dai fut accaparé par une nuée de personnes charmées, à commencer par M. Pagès.

De l'avis général, ce 5 mars 1937 doit être marqué d'une pierre blanche dans les annales littéraires de la Perle de l'Extrême-Orient.

"Une conférence française sur les chansons annamites," L'Impartial 6 mars 1937, 2

"Le mariage de la plume et du pinceau.. M. NGUYEN-TIEN-LANG qui vient de publier en librarie cette jolie conference (nguồn: L'Impartial 26 mars 1937)

"CINÉMA À L'ÉDEN Ramona" - L.G. (1929)

Ramona, j'ai fait ce rêve merveilleux...

Valse boston devenue célèbre du jour au lendemain, lorsque parait il Dolores del Rio la chanta pour la première fois à la présenation du film, mais les paroles qu'illustrèrent Saint-Granier ne correspondaient a pu faire du chant américain.

Prend a-t on ette mode de lancer une mélodie pour chaque film?

On a annoncé une autre production dans laquelle parait notre vedette et une autre chanson, qui aura pour nom "Dolorès" et dont le retentissement dans les orchestres de jazz ne sera pas moindre.

Ramona, I had this wonderful dream...

This Boston Waltz became famous overnight, it seems, when Dolores del Rio sang it for the first time at the film's premiere. But the lyrics, interpreted by Saint-Granier, don't quite fit the American style.

Is this a trend of launching a melody for every film?

Another production has been announced featuring our star and another song, which will be titled "Dolores," and whose impact on jazz orchestras will be no less significant.

Ramona, ta có một giấc mơ tuyệt vời...

Điệu Waltz Boston này trở nên nổi tiếng ngay sau một đêm, dường như từ lúc mà Dolores del Rio hát lần đầu tiên tại buổi ra mắt phim. Nhưng lời bài hát, được Saint-Granier thể hiện, lại không hoàn toàn phù hợp với phong cách Mỹ.

Liệu đây có phải là xu hướng cho ra mắt một giai điệu cho mỗi bộ phim?

Một tác phẩm điện ảnh khác đã được công bố với sự tham gia của ngôi sao của chúng ta và một bài hát khác, sẽ có tên gọi là "Dolores", và tầm ảnh hưởng của nó đối với các dàn nhạc jazz chắc chắn sẽ không kém phần quan trọng.

L.G., "Cinéma à L'Éden Ramona," L'Impartial 6/8/1929

French recording made in November 1928 by Saint Granier A perhaps jazzier version by Paul Whiteman's Orchestra. Ferde Grofé's arrangement is pretty fancy.

In her memoir/novel L’amant de la Chine du Nord, Marguerite Duras frequently describes the soundscape of the Cochinchina (Vĩnh Long, Sài Gòn) of her youth. She tells of the popular recordings of that time (1930) with the song "Ramona" mentioned a couple of times.

Ramona (1928) was one of the first movies that was released with a soundtrack featuring this hit song by Mabel Wayne and L. Wolfe Gilbert. It has been called the first movie theme song and was recorded by many artists in many countries. While written in 3/4 to the Boston dance rhythm, it was played by jazz and dance orchestras. Duras probably heard the recording with French language lyrics by Saint Granier. She gives us a sense of the musical ambience of colonial Indochina.

Rừng xưa đã khép (The Forest of Old Has Gently Shut) - Trịnh Công Sơn (1967?)

Ta thấy em trong tiền kiếp với cọng buồn cỏ khô,

I've seen you in a prior life with sad stems, dried grasses,
Ta thấy em đang ngồi khóc khi rừng chiều đổ mưa,

I've seen you seated, crying the afternoon forest rain pouring down,
Rừng thu lá úa em vẫn chưa về,

Fall forest foliage falls, you still had not returned
Rừng đông cuốn gió em đứng bơ vơ.

Winter forest whirling winds, you stood helpless.

Ta thấy em trong tiền kiếp với mặt trời lẻ loi,

I've seen you in an earlier life with the solitary sun,
Ta thấy em đang ngồi hát khi rừng về nhiều mây,

I've seen you seated, singing as the forest brings back many clouds,
Rừng thu thay lá mưa bay buồn rầu,

Fall forest leaves in flux, rain falls, woebegone
Rừng đông buốt giá mưa bay rạt rào.

Winter forest bitter cold, rain falls a deluge.

Ta vẫn mong ta chờ mãi, trên từng ngày quạnh hiu,

I've still waited, always waited, above each succeeding desolate day,
Ta vẫn mong em về đây cho đời bày cuộc vui,

I've hoped you'll return here so life's happiness is arranged,
Mùa xuân đã đến em hãy quay về rừng xưa đã khép, em hãy ra đi.

Spring has arrived, come on back, the forest of old has gently shut, come on out.

Mùa xuân đã đến em hãy quay về rừng xưa đã khép, em hãy ra đi.

Spring has arrived, come on back, the forest of old has gently shut, come on out.

nguồn: Trịnh Công Sơn, Tuyển tập những bai ca không năm tháng (TPHCM: Nhà xuất bản Âm nhạc, 1995).

My good friend Professor Tuannyriver made an excellent translation and wrote an excellent analysis of "Rừng xưa đã khép." Thankfully Trịnh Công Sơn's art easily invites many interpretations and viewpoints allowing me to add to what the professor wrote without any need to detract from his insights.

I interpret the lyrics like a legend or fairytale. "Rừng" - it can be translated as forest, woods or jungle - is a natural realm, beautiful, full of life. However, it may be devoid of human life / society. The "rừng" also inspires awe, fear and is a place where you could lose your bearings.

It's conventional, almost obvious, to see "em" as a young woman and to see "ta" as a man who knows and cares about her and is even in love with her. "Em" more widely means younger sister or brother. "Ta" more widely means we. It could be a community awaiting the return of a younger person who has lost their way. But I think most people take this to be a kind of love song, two people in a romantic attachment, one entangled in a metaphoric forest (emotions? trauma? indecision?), the other patiently waiting her out and to seal away her troubles.

But it's not that simple. This entanglement afflicted her (I'll follow the conventional gender) in a prior life. The verb tense of "thấy" (to see or perceive) is not absolutely clear, but to me a prior life is in the past placing the events of the forest in the past. But this past may also be metaphoric - he sees her currently wrestling with events of a past incarnation that she needs to understand and break free from to be with him/us.

While she should be a young woman, her experiences in the forest highlight the fall and winter seasons, seasons suggesting the ebbing of a life cycle. The narrator desires her to return to the world he inhabits which is the springtime with happiness arranged or set forth (bày).

Nothing good happens in her world of fall and autumn. It's either drought (cỏ khô), torrents of rain, or bone-chilling cold. Why is she there? If she can leave why doesn't she? Since it's a prior life, she has no choice, although there is always that possibility of deliverance in a later incarnation (today?).

Here is a crazier idea? The narrative voice "Ta" is situated above - "trên" (trên từng ngày quạnh hiu / above each succeeding desolate day) - not "trong" (during, within). What if "Ta" is a supernatural benevolent force (a saint, a guide?) trying to persuade "em" to come out from the forest, to accept a resolution to a predicament in life and return to happiness?

The song is constructed in three parallel verses. The first two verses lay out her predicament. They each end on a different scale degree. The first on the fifth scale degree, the second on the second scale degree. Performing artists have conventionally harmonized these note with a dominant fifth and the raised seventh scale degree of the harmonic minor scale (a note never present in the melody).  The second verse takes the singer to the highest note of the song at the syllable "lá" / leaf (Rừng thu thay lá mây bay buồn rầu). I don't know whether that is supposed to be the height of anguish (Fall forest leaves in flux, rain falls woebegone)?

Singers frequently do not sing Trịnh Công Sơn songs with the rhythms he notated. "Rừng xưa đã khép" frequently are presented in a slow rock 12/8 rhythm with an relaxing 1-2-3, 1-2-3 lilt. This is despite the the song being written in 2/4 time and one of the most repeated motifs of the songs are two sixteenth notes as pick-ups to a dotted quarter note. The rhythm of these sixteenth notes should figuratively snap a little, not lilt like a triplet. This rhythm happens with every iteration of "Ta" (Ta thấy, ta vẫn) on the fifth and sixth scale degrees - a minor, chromatic second. In a song that is mostly pentatonic (no minor seconds) this chromatic interval adds some poignancy. These two notes also appear as triplets with the lyrics "em vẫn chưa về," "em hãy quay về" and "em hãy ra đi" ("you still have not returned," "come on back" and "come on out"). 

In the first half of her recording, Thanh Xuân performs the sixteenth notes that Trịnh Công Sơn wrote. The second time through, the song slips into a slow rock tempo and this distinction is lost

He also wrote arpeggiated sixteenth notes followed by a dotted quarter note with the syllables "đang ngồi khóc" "đang ngồi hát" and "em về đây" (seated crying, seated singing, you'll return here). The first two instances are the only times in the song the she (em) has any agency, takes any action (sitting, crying, singing). The third is a hoped for action.

Another frequent sin singers commit when interpreting this song happens at the end with the syllable "rừng xưa đã khép" - written with scale degrees two-four-six-six. Most sing the third note (đã) with fifth scale degree, making a minor second from five to six. This is understandable because the third word "đã" has a broken rising tone (dấu ngã) that needs to rise to be intelligible. It's convenient to drop down a half step to accommodate, but it also unnecessarily repeats the "em hãy ra đi" motif.

Anh Ngọc made a very accurate version of "Rừng xưa đã khép" that was probably recorded for Hoàng Trọng's Tiếng Tơ Đồng radio / television program. Unfortunately, that recording is not available online as far as I can tell. I do unfortunately have to fault Anh Ngọc for, like nearly everybody else, not "snapping" his sixteenth notes.

Bảo Yến also sings the "rừng xưa đã khép" motif accurately. Like other interpreters, she opens the song like a recitative and then moves to slow rock. 

 

There is another version (not the version on of this song recorded by Giang Trang that I like a lot, but I can't locate that version online.

This song has few additional mysteries. As far as I can tell, it was never published as sheet music or in a songbook before 1975. It also is not among the 40 or songs by Trịnh Công Sơn that were recorded to vinyl before 1975. It's also difficult to understand why "Rừng xưa đã khép" was permitted to be performed publicly or recorded in the Socialist Republic of Vietnam on September 12, 2014.

A quoi rêvent les soeurs 1935 (What Do Our Sisters Dream of in 1935 - Các chị em mơ gì năm 1935) - Phạm Văn Ký (1935)

Emancipation? En voici la formule: le plus de contact possible avec les hommes par la... danse.

Emancipation? Here's the formula: have as much contact as possible with men through... dance.

Giải phóng ư? Công thức đây: hãy tiếp xúc với nam giới càng nhiều càng tốt qua... khiêu vũ.

(Dessin et paroles de Pham Van Ky - Vẽ và viết bởi Phạm Văn Ký)

nguồn: L'Impartial 14 juin 1935

C'est le première fois que vous danser? (Is This The First Time That You've Danced? / Có phải đây là lần đầu mà ông được nhảy?) - Phạm Văn Ký (1935)

Elle (ironique) - C'est la première fois que vous dansez?

Lui (vendant la coup) - Oui.. avec une taxi-girl.

She (ironically) - Is this your first time dancing?

He (returning the gesture) - Yes... with a taxi girl.

Nàng (mỉa mai) - Có phải đây là lần đầu ông được nhảy?

Chàng (đáp lại tương tự) - Vâng... với một kỹ nữ.

(Dessin et paroles de Pham Van Ky - Vẽ và viết bởi Phạm Văn Ký) 

nguồn: L'Impartial 27 avril 1935

"Audition de la Troupe Royale des Troubadours Hawaiens" (Performance of the Royal Troupe of Hawaiian Troubadours) - M.D. (1924)

Foule énorme à l'Eden, hier, pour entendre les Hawaiens, curiosité bien légitime, car on n'a pas souvent une occasion semblable, peut-être même, certains étaient-ils venus avec l'intention de rire et de s'amuser.

Or pendant les deux heures et demie de musique que ces artistes ont fournies sans arrêt, sauf un quart d'heure d'entr'acte, le public a été sous le charme de ces motifs musicaux, qui n'ont aucun rapport avec ceux de ces pays.

La musique que nous avons entendue hier, musique parfaitement harmonisée, et exécutée par des artistes de talent, a quelque chose de captivant, de gracieux, de charmant qui impressionne les masses, pas de tours de force, pas de dissonances, des motifs doux, berceurs en mode mineur, et finissant en mode majeur. 

La soirée d'hier a été, pour tout le public, une soirée délicieuse; du reste nue, n'a pas ménagé ses applaudissements, c'était un tonnerre chaque fois q'un des morceaux était terminé, puis des bis répétés, que les artistes remplaçaient par des motifs nouveaux.

Ca été un charme ininterrompu pendant toute la soirée.

Cette troupe se compose de huit personnes, cinq hommes et trois femmes, tour à tour, chanteurs, danseurs, instrumentistes et tous jouant de plusieurs instruments à cordes, guitares de toutes dimensions, mandolines, banjo, etc...

La début de la soirée a commencé, la salle dans une demi-obscurité, par un chant grave derrière le rideau d'avant-scène, puis petit à petit, le rideau s'est levé les lumières sont revenues lentement et on a vu les huit membres de la troupe en scène. Alors ç'a été défilé ininterrompu de chœurs, de solis, de duos, de trios, de danses et chaque artiste, sauf la danseuse, n'abandonnant jamais son instrument.

Comme solistes, nous avons entendu une des dames et un de ces messieurs jouer d'un instrument dont nous regrettons de ne pas connaître le nom, c'est une grande guitare qui se pose sur les genoux et se joue à deux mains, puis en deuxième partie, un mandoliniste hors ligne.

Nous avons entendu aussi un jazz hawaien, qui nous a fait revenir sur la triste opinion que nous avion de cet orchestre. Ce jazz est composé de 6 personnes, une pianiste, puis un basso, une guitare, un joueur de xylophone, une grosse caisse, une caisse roulante, un saxophone, une flute.

Cet orchestre nous a joué, à côté des danses endiablées, qui ne sont pas des fox trott ni des twosteps, des morceaux d'une douceur infinie et a accompagné une chanteuse d'une façon impeccable. La soirée s'est terminée par l'hymne hawaien que les artistes ont chanté debout en chœur. Cet hymne est réellement beau, d'un rythme grave et poignant.

M.D., "Audition de la Troupe Royale des Troubadours Hawaiens," L'Impartial 8 mars 1924.

A huge crowd filled the Eden yesterday to hear the Hawaiians -- a perfectly legitimate curiosity -- as such an opportunity doesn't come around often. Perhaps some had even come with the intention of having a few laughs and being entertained.

Yet, during the two and a half hours of music that these artists provided nonstop, except for a fifteen minute intermission, the audience was captivated by these musical motifs, which bear no relation to those of their homelands.

The music we heard yesterday, perfectly harmonized and performed by talented artists, had something captivating, graceful, and charming about it that impressed the masses. There were no virtuoso displays, no dissonances, just gentle, lullaby-like motifs in a minor key, ending in a major key.

Last night's performance was a delightful evening for the entire audience; the audience, for their part, was not sparing in their applause. It was thunderous each time a piece ended, followed by repeated encores, which the artists replaced with new melodies.

It was uninterrupted enchantment throughout the entire evening.

This troupe consists of eight people, five men and three women, who take turns as singers, dancers, and instrumentalists, all playing several stringed instruments: guitars of all sizes, mandolins, banjos, and so on.

The evening began in half-darkness, with a low song behind the front curtain. Then, little by little, the curtain rose, the lights slowly returned, and the eight members of the troupe appeared on stage. Then came a non-stop parade of choruses, solos, duets, trios, and dances, with each artist, except the dancer, never abandoning their instrument.

As soloists, we heard one of the ladies and one of the gentlemen playing an instrument whose name we regret not knowing—a large guitar that rests on the lap and is played with both hands. Then, in the second half, an excellent mandolinist.

We also heard Hawaiian jazz, which made us reconsider our low opinion of that kind of orchestra. This jazz group consists of six people: a pianist, a bass player, a guitarist, a xylophonist, a bass drum, a field drum, a saxophonist, and a flautist.

This orchestra played for us alongside frenetic dances—which were neither foxtrots nor twosteps—pieces of infinite gentleness and impeccably accompanied a singer. The evening ended with a Hawaiian hymn, which the artists sang standing in unison. This anthem is truly beautiful with a deep and poignant rhythm.

M.D. "Performance of the Royal Troupe of Hawaiian Troubadours" The Impartial, March 8, 1924.

Hôm qua, một đám đông khổng lồ đã lấp đầy nhà hát Eden để nghe nhạc Hawaii, một sự tò mò hoàn toàn chính đáng, vì cơ hội như vậy không thường xuyên xuất hiện. Có lẽ một số người thậm chí còn đến với ý định cười đùa và vui vẻ.

Tuy nhiên, trong suốt hai tiếng rưỡi âm nhạc mà các nghệ sĩ này trình diễn không ngừng nghỉ, ngoại trừ một giờ nghỉ giải lao mười lăm phút, khán giả đã bị cuốn hút bởi những giai điệu âm nhạc này, những giai điệu không hề liên quan đến âm nhạc quê hương của họ.

Âm nhạc mà chúng ta được nghe hôm qua, được hòa âm hoàn hảo và trình diễn bởi các nghệ sĩ tài năng, có điều gì đó quyến rũ, duyên dáng và đáng yêu đã gây ấn tượng mạnh mẽ với công chúng. Không có màn trình diễn kỹ thuật điêu luyện, không có sự bất hòa, chỉ có những giai điệu nhẹ nhàng, du dương như những bài hát ru trong một giọng thứ, kết thúc bằng một giọng trưởng.

Đêm qua là một buổi tối tuyệt vời cho tất cả mọi người trong khán giả. Khán giả, hoàn toàn khỏa thân, đã không ngần ngại vỗ tay; tiếng vỗ tay vang dội mỗi khi một bản nhạc kết thúc, tiếp theo là những màn trình diễn lại liên tục, mà các nghệ sĩ đã thay thế bằng những bản nhạc mới.

Đó là một niềm vui không gián đoạn suốt cả buổi tối.

Đoàn nghệ thuật này gồm tám người, năm nam và ba nữ, thay phiên nhau hát, nhảy và chơi nhạc cụ, tất cả đều chơi nhiều loại nhạc cụ dây: guitar đủ kích cỡ, đàn mandolin, banjo, v.v.

Buổi tối bắt đầu trong không gian mờ tối, với một bài hát trầm ấm vang lên sau tấm màn. Sau đó, từ từ, tấm màn được vén lên, ánh đèn dần sáng trở lại, và tám thành viên của đoàn xuất hiện trên sân khấu. Tiếp theo là một chuỗi các tiết mục hợp xướng, độc tấu, song ca, tam ca và vũ đạo, với mỗi nghệ sĩ, ngoại trừ vũ công, không bao giờ đặt nhạc cụ xuống.

Là những nghệ sĩ độc tấu, chúng tôi được nghe một nữ nghệ sĩ và một nam nghệ sĩ chơi một nhạc cụ mà chúng tôi rất tiếc không biết tên – một cây guitar lớn đặt trên đùi và chơi bằng cả hai tay. Sau đó, ở phần thứ hai, chúng tôi được nghe một nghệ sĩ chơi đàn mandolin ở phía sau sân khấu.

Chúng tôi cũng được nghe một ban nhạc jazz Hawaii, điều này đã hoàn toàn thay đổi ấn tượng ban đầu, khá tiêu cực của chúng tôi về nhóm này. Nhóm nhạc jazz này gồm sáu người: một nghệ sĩ piano, một người chơi bass, một nghệ sĩ guitar, một người chơi đàn xylophone, một người chơi trống bass, một người chơi máy đánh trống, một người chơi saxophone và một người chơi sáo.

Ban nhạc đã chơi cho chúng tôi nghe những bản nhạc du dương, cùng với những điệu nhảy sôi động – không phải là foxtrot hay twostep – những giai điệu nhẹ nhàng tinh tế và phần đệm hoàn hảo cho ca sĩ. Buổi tối kết thúc với bài quốc ca Hawaii, được các nghệ sĩ cùng nhau hát vang trong tư thế đứng. Bài quốc ca này thực sự rất hay, với nhịp điệu sâu lắng và đầy cảm xúc.

M.D. "Buổi biểu diễn của Ban đàn Hoàng gia Hát rong Hạ Uy Di," Công Bằng 8 tháng 3 1924.

La fête des enfants (Children's Festival) (Hội Trung Thu) (1904)

Voici revenue la “fête des enfants,” cette traditionnelle période de réjouissance et de liberté pour les petits Annamites, et tout en trouvant charmante cette habitude aussi poétique que séculaire qui fait, pendant quelques jours, des mioches annamites les rois de la maison familiale, les malheureux Européens qui habitent à proximité d’une agglomération indigène voient venir avec effroi les charivaris et les tintamaresques processions enfantines caractérisant cette époque de l’année. Déjà la marmaille a pris possession de la rue où, sûre de l’impunité et de la tolérance universelle, elle exerce sans discontinuer ses poumons et la vigueur de ses petis bras, soufflant à perdre haleine dans des cornes aux sons sinistres, ou frappant, sans malheureusement se lasser, sur des cymbales ou d’odieux tam-tams dont les vibrations lancinantes et monotones, traversant les épaisses murailles, viennent vous réveiller en sursaut dès que paraît le soleil.

Au point de vue pittoresque, rien n’est, cependant, curieux comme ces longues théories de bambins, porteurs de lampions et de figurines de papier éclairées intérieurement, qui serpentent la nuit à travers les rues indigènes, précédés d’un des leur dont le chef, surmonté d’une tête de dragon grimaçante, se livre aux contorsions les plus désordonnées.

Here comes the “Children's Festival” again, this traditional period of joy and freedom for young Annamites. While finding this age-old, poetic custom charming—a custom that, for a few days, makes Annamite children the kings of the family home—the unfortunate Europeans living near an indigenous settlement watch with dread the raucous and noisy children's processions that characterize this time of year. Already the children have taken over the streets where, confident of impunity and universal tolerance, they tirelessly exercise their lungs and the strength of their little arms, blowing themselves breathlessly into horns with sinister sounds, or striking, unfortunately without tiring, cymbals or hideous drums whose relentless and monotonous vibrations, penetrating the thick walls, jolt you awake as soon as the sun appears.

From a picturesque point of view, however, nothing is more curious than these long lines of children, carrying lanterns and paper figurines lit from within, who wind their way through the native streets at night, preceded by one of their own whose leader, surmounted by a grimacing dragon's head, engages in the most disorderly contortions.

Đây hội "Trung Thu" quay trở lại, một thời truyền thống của niềm vui và tự do dành cho trẻ em An Nam. Khi người ta thấy phong tục cổ xưa đầy chất thơ này thật quyến rũ – một phong tục mà trong vài ngày, biến trẻ em An Nam thành những ông vua trong gia đình – thì các ngừơi Châu Âu không may sống gần khu bản xứ lo sợ sự xuất hiện của những tiếng ồn ào và những đám rước trẻ em náo nhiệt đặc trưng cho thời điểm này trong năm. Trẻ em đã chiếm lĩnh các con phố, nơi chúng tự tin vào sự bất khả xâm phạm và lòng khoan dung phổ quát, không ngừng luyện tập phổi và sức mạnh của cánh tay nhỏ bé, thổi kèn với những âm thanh rùng rợn, hoặc đánh liên tục vào chũm chọe hay trống gớm ghiếc, với những rung động đơn điệu, không ngừng nghỉ, xuyên qua những bức tường dày, khiến bạn giật mình tỉnh giấc ngay khi mặt trời ló dạng.

Tuy nhiên, xét về khía cạnh hình ảnh, không gì kỳ lạ hơn những hàng dài trẻ em, tay cầm đèn lồng và những hình nộm bằng giấy được thắp sáng từ bên trong, nối đuôi nhau đi qua các con phố của người dân địa phương vào ban đêm, dẫn đầu là một nhóm trẻ em đội đầu rồng gớm ghiếc, thực hiện những động tác uốn éo hỗn loạn nhất.

"La fête des enfants," Courrier d'Haiphong 22 septembre 1904.