An Ainu woman is playing the Mukkuri (ムックリ), a traditional Ainu mouth harp played by women.
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The Mukkuri is made of carefully cut bamboo with two strings, and measures about 10 by 1.5 cm (3.9 by 0.6 inches). The player vibrates the tongue cut out of the bamboo by pulling one of the strings, while holding the instrument in front of the mouth. Volume and tone colors are changed by changing the shape of the mouth. Although a simple instrument, and similar to mouth harps found all over the world, accomplished players can create truly amazing music with the Mukkuri.
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Ainu music is almost always sacred, as are the instruments themselves which are believed to be imbued with souls. In traditional times, music played an important part in everyday Ainu life. Short simple songs centered on everyday activities and were accompanied by the Mukkuri and the Tonkori, a plucked string instrument. When used as work songs, the music was rhythmic and featured lyrics related to the work that was performed. The songs were not just meant to create a work rhythm, but also acted as prayers and warded off evil spirits.
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In addition to the simple everyday songs, Ainu music features epic songs, called Yukar. They are mythic narratives, usually seen from the viewpoint of the gods. Performed without musical instruments, these epic songs consist of long monologues, with the voice of the singer fluctuating within words. They may be performed in front of the open hearth at a friend’s house, or as part of a religious ceremony. In this case the epic song is outlined by the ceremony’s activities, while at the same time reinforcing the ceremony itself.
The one cannot exist without the other, showing the important and sacred role that music plays in Ainu culture and consciousness.
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For many years, Ainu music was banned by the Japanese authorities. Since the 1960s however, Ainu music has been making a strong comeback as part of an Ainu cultural revival.
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Ainu music was especially performed by women, whose vocal qualities were preferred. Although nowadays the casual observer will have much trouble distinguishing Ainu women from other Japanese women, they traditionally looked very different.
A Glossed Audio Corpus of Ainu folklore is the first fully glossed and annotated digital collection of Ainu folktales with translations into Japanese and English. Most materials were recorded by Hiroshi Nakagawa in 1977 to 1983 with a very talented speaker and story-teller, Mrs. Kimi Kimura (1900-1988, born in Penakori Village, upper district of the Saru River) whose proficiency in Ainu considerably surpassed that of her Japanese. The abundance, repertoire and tempo of the folktales are outstanding.
Editors: Nakagawa, Hiroshi, Anna Bugaeva, Miki Kobayashi, Yoshimi Yoshikawa
Speakers: Kimi Kimura, Ito Oda
System design and development: Shiro Akasegawa (Lago Institute of Language)
The Project is dedicated to making Ainu literature available in English. We have translated Chiri Yukie’s 1922 collection ‘Ainu Shinyoushuu’ into English, including the famous song of the owl god, ‘Silver drops fall all around, golden drops fall all around’.
Here is an online archive of Chiri Yukie's collection of yukar, available for free.
I am an Ainu who once lived in Usakumai near Lake Shikotsu. In those days there were plenty of wild deer and bears roaming the mountains. Whenever I wanted to eat meat, I went hunting in the mountains with my bow and arrows.
After each hunt, I shared the meat with the people of my village. We smoked a lot of it for eating later.
When autumn came, the river teemed with salmon heading upriver to lay their eggs. Many Ainu came to the river at that time, even from distant villages like Piratori, to catch salmon and preserve them for winter food. Bears and foxes also came to the river to eat salmon. The Ainu and the animals lived peacefully together, and did not get in each other's way.
I was happy living with my family. As the years passed, people began to call me Grandfather. I no longer went into the mountains to hunt. I stayed at home and made tools and wood carvings.
One night, after carving till late as usual, I wrapped myself in soft furs and nodded off to sleep. Suddenly, I heard a voice coming from far away. I wondered who it could be so late at night. I listened hard, but I couldn't hear it anymore. Then, when I put my head back on my pillow, I heard the distant voice again.
I became curious, got up quietly so I wouldn't wake my family, and went outside. The moon was bright and lit the area for quite a distance. I slowly and softly moved in the direction of the voice.
As I got closer, I realized the voice was not human. I crept nearer, trying not to make any noise, and I strained my eyes to see.
What I saw was a fox. The fox was saying something in the human language. I listened carefully and discovered that it was making a charanke, a claim against the Ainu people.
"Hey, you Ainu people. Listen well. The Ainu did not create the salmon. Of course, the fox did not create the salmon either. It was the god and goddess of the Ishikari River, Pipirinoekuru and Pipinoemat, are the ones who decide how many salmon should swim up the river, so that the Ainu, the bears and the foxes can all have their share to eat.
But this afternoon, I snatched just one salmon from among the many you Ainu had fished out of the river. One of you became so angry that he shouted at me, using the worst insults there are in your language. I felt like I was being attacked by horrible black flames.
And that's not all. The man then prayed to the god of water and the god of the mountains, asking them to banish us foxes from the land where the Ainu live. He asked the gods to send us away to a distant place, a place of bare hills where there are no trees or grass or birds. If the gods hear only his side of the story, they will agree to his request and we won't be able to live here anymore. Unless something is done, we are doomed.
Listen, you gods! Listen, you Ainu! Hear my side of the story," the fox said sadly, with tears in his eyes.
The fox's appeal amazed me. He was right in everything he said. The salmon are food not only for the Ainu, the gods had said. The salmon are food not only for the Ainu, the gods provided them for the creatures, too.
When morning came, I gathered the villagers together and told them about the fox's charanke. I spoke harshly to the man who had insulted the fox. We carved many inau, made offerings of millet wine, and solemnly apologized to the fox god.
The other gods heard about our apology. They decided not to banish the foxes, but to let them stay forever in the land of the Ainu.
And so I say to the Ainu of today, do not think that the fish in the river and the nuts in the trees are for the Ainu only. They should be shared with all the animals.
These were the last words of the Ainu elder before he died.
This tale was taken down in the village of Tunaichi on the south part of the eastern shore of Sakhalin, a village famed from ancient times for people acquainted with old traditions and songs. This characteristic has remained in that part of the island till the present day.
Orated by Numaru to B. Pilsudski
Content sourced from Bronislaw Pilsudski’s Materials for the Study of the Ainu Language.
One day I awoke alone among the tall grass. I stood to look around me, and saw a great ash tree, its bark metallic, and glittering in the sun. Atop the great tree was a house where Kapatchir Tono, the chief of all eagles, lived with his wife. Sitting beside me was food and water in ornate dishes. I satisfied my hunger and thirst, and went to sleep in the grass. Every day Kapatchir Tono's wife, Kapatchir Katkemat, carried food to me.
This is how we lived for two or three years. In that time I had woven a house for myself from the long grasses. I listened to the eagles' conversations and came to understand their language.
One day Kapatchir Tono flew away and did not return for more than three days. When he finally returned home, I heard him speak to Kapatchir Katkemat;
"I went to find food for the child we have raised. While I was hunting, I came across and island in the midst of two seas. On one end of the island stretched high mountains. At the other end of the island was a cape, jutting into the sea, crowned with a reef of rocks.
I spotted a large ash tree and settled among the branches to view my surroundings. At one end of the island was a playground for the gods, the kamuy. At the highest peaks were the mightiest kamuy. At the depths played the smaller kamuy.
A little before dawn I heard the voices of the kamuy, who descended from Kamuy Moshir to play on the island. The mighty kamuy reveled with each other first, and finished near daybreak. They went out to the reef and began to sing to one another. They sang their stories, heroic yukar and magical uwepeker.
They had finished as the sun peeked over the mountains, ending their songs and ascended back to Kamuy Moshir. I enjoyed watching the kamuy play so much that I stayed all night, and this is the reason I am so late."
I listened to Kapatchir Tono tell his story to Kapatchir Katkemat. It excited me so much that I wanted to see this island for myself. At midnight I made sure both eagles were asleep, and then, staying close to the trees, snuck down to the beach. On the shore was a small canoe. I seized the crossbeam at the prow and dragged it to the water. I set the oars and made for the open sea.
At first I did not know how to row, and maneuvering the canoe was difficult, but it became easier as I sailed all day and into the evening. At last I saw the island before me.
When I landed I found the large ash tree that Kapatchir Tono had spoken of. I hid my canoe under its drooping branches. I hid behind its full leaves and waited for the kamuy.
Just as Kapatchir Tono had described, I heard the voices of the kamuy as they descended from Kamuy Moshir, passing through the boundary of the sky. First the mighty kamuy, then the smaller kamuy. When they had finished playing, they went out to the reef and sang their yukar and uwepeker.
I wanted to get closer to the kamuy, so I crept closer, hiding under one of the robes that had been set down on the rocks. When the singing finished, the kamuy began to ascend into the sky. The youngest kamuy came to pick up her robe and was surprised to find me inside it! I held her hand and instead of returning to Kamuy Moshir she stayed with me.
I returned to the canoe with the divine girl and rowed back to my village, sailing through the day and into night, coming home to my grass hut.
In the morning, Kapatchir Tono said to Kapatchir Katkemat;
"This child of Rurupa, the child we have raised, has grown up! He has become a man and taken a wife. What have we left to do, but return to our country of Kamuy Moshir?"
Having been awoken by their discussion, I climbed the gleaming ash tree to speak to them. They said;
"The name of your country is Rurupa. It was once rich, and your ancestors lived with many companions. One day Rurupa was ravaged by a wenkamuy, an evil demon. You were the only one who survived. A baby who was overlooked.
Your ancestors had gifted the kamuy with many inau, which the kamuy rewarded in kind with flourishing land. The kamuy consulted with each other to find someone who should bring you up well, and obliged me, the chief of all eagles, and my wife to bring raise you. Now you have received a wife from the kamuy. Now you shall go back to live in Rurupa, and make inau, and you will say, 'Kapatchir Michi, Eagle Father, Kapatchir Tono, Chief of all Eagles, with my wife, Kapatchir Hapo, Eagle Mother, Kapachir Katkemat, Eagle Wife,' and give us the inau. We will look on you with favour and your land and you will never be hungry."
This is the story of the creation of inau by the child of Rurupa, brought up by Kapatchir Tono.
