In popular media, eastern civilization has always been represented by a skewed identity constructed by Western onlookers. A typical image of the East was originally driven by an agenda to present something mysterious or exciting to a Western audience who’ve grown accustomed to the popular theming stemming from known regional trends. After decades of popular use, stereotypes such as belly dancers or turbaned travelers have become representations of everything generally labeled as “the East.” These elements are harmful to the populations of these represented cultures because they create false images of who these people are and how their society functions.
This Western projection on the East was explored in Edward Said’s 1978 book, Orientalism, in which he discussed the implications of Eastern depictions in literature and cultural studies. Yet Orientalism is not just confined to the mediums of text but is spread throughout all forms of popular media, including music. Film watchers or video game players will be able to instantly recognize an Orientalist piece of music because, much like the development of thematic stereotypes in literature, Orientalist music also developed clichés that became synonymous with “the East” over time.
One of these clichés is the instrumentation of Orientalist music. Ethnic ensembles of instruments are used to convey an exotic undertone for the piece. Now, this wouldn’t be too egregious if musicians explored where these instruments originate from and how they were played to create an authentic theme that represents the specific region they’re working with. Instruments from various parts of the world are often thrown together and played in disingenuous ways in order to produce an “ancient” sounding timbre. By far, the most overused instrument in these “easterly” ensembles is the Armenian Duduk.
The duduk is a double-reed, woodwind instrument that’s traditionally made from soft, apricot wood. Its reed is unusually large, so much so that it’s proportional to the body of the instrument itself. The resulting tone is similar to the Western clarinet but much richer and warmer. Vibrato is used extensively in typical duduk playing, with energetic, double-reed buzzing popping out at the peaks of the waves. The duduk sounds very old, but not old in the sense that it’s outfashioned or archaic, more so in the way a grandparent gathers their grandchildren around a fireplace at night and tells them tales of their youth in a world long gone; it communicates and celebrates a history with those that hear it.
The solo duduk doesn’t tell its story alone. An accompanying duduk player will provide an atmospheric drone called a dum as a backdrop for the soloist’s passage. There are no drops in the drone; it continues from the beginning to the end of the song. This is achieved through circular breathing, which is the ability to take in air through the nose while simultaneously expelling air out through the mouth. The dum is the technical marvel of atmospheric depth in music without the assistance of computers.
The fixation on duduk in Western media began with its appearance in Peter Gabriel’s soundtrack for The Last Temptation of Christ in 1988. The track that plays during the title sequence, “The Feeling Begins,” draws audiences in primarily through its duduk intro, which is backdropped by a dum-like drone that wavers behind. Despite the opening of the piece, the traditional characteristics of Orientalist music are subverted through Gabriel’s use of a gated reverb drum groove that rigidly blasts itself onto the track. Later on, as the title sequence fades into the first scene of the film, an oscillating twinkle replaces the heavy drums for a brief moment before they creep back onto the track with much more power. Despite the fact that there is no correlation between the representation of a specific culture and the duduk’s place in the soundtrack, its inclusion in a film about ancient Mesopotamia inadvertently propagated its appropriation in Orientalist music.
Another example of the duduk’s use in popular Western films is Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack for The Gladiator. “To Zuccabar” chronicles the journey of Maximus as he’s taken from his homeland by slave traders to northern Africa. To communicate that, the instrumentation and the rhythm of the piece have a frontward momentum. Like “The Feeling Begins,” the duduk is the centerpiece over top a warm, dum-like soundscape. Facilitating an adventurous mood, a soft flamenco guitar accompanies the duduk, rhythmically strumming with repeated emphatic patterns. The duduk playing itself is drawn out with emotion, performed by Djivan Gasparyan, one of the most celebrated duduk players in modern memory. Gasparyan includes the melody of one of his own tunes, “They Took My Love Away,” as the introduction to the duduk solo in the piece, which slowly evolves into a cinematic spectacle as momentum is gained.
The original rendition of “They Took My Love Away” can be found on Djivan Gasparyan’s sophomore album, Moon Shines At Night. This recording is dialed way back and features just the duduk solo and its dum accompaniment. The title of the track highlights the quiet devastation it encapsulates its audience with. The duduks’ voices are isolated yet powerful in conjunction with each other. Hearing the two notes melt in and out of each other whenever they decide to stick on the same note creates a mesmerizing quality like the overlapping of ripples in a pond when they disrupt one another. The vibrato on the ends of the lead musical phrases breaks up the trance just enough to where attention can be held and the song’s atmosphere can be appreciated along with the technical aspects of the music.
To conclude this article, I’d like to share some folk Armenian music that incorporates the duduk. “Hovern Enkan” is an Armenian folk song that’s been covered by many duduk players, including Djivan Gasparyan. Gevorg Dabaghyan’s rendition of it is especially warm and a perfect example of the kind of tone that duduk music brings to the table. Dynamic variance is heavily prominent in the technique of the duduk playing, with phrases easing into themselves and gradually gaining volume and intensity as they play themselves out.
“Nare Nare” is another traditional song that carries a lot of history. It’s an ancient love song that spread out from the Armenian motherland. Levon Minassian arranged the song for his album Songs From a World Apart, in which other Armenian staples are presented in orchestral arrangements. “Nare Nare” features the duduk of course, with a limited accompaniment of other ethnic instruments. The duduk plays solemnly as drums and rhythmically strummed strings lightly brush their way through the measures. The duduk fluidly soars through the rest of the ensemble like wind through the branches of a dense forest. A break near the end of the song picks up the tempo and transforms the piece into an energetic dance for a conclusive finish.
Digging into the little bit of Eastern music that I have has been tremendously interesting. That side of the music world is so alien to America in the sense of Western music tradition. But it’s just as rich and engaging as any musical innovation in the West. I’m sure that I’ve only really touched the surface of this type of music, but I’m glad that what I have explored is so dense that I’ve been able to write this much about it. I’ve included a small playlist of duduk music that I’ve come across this past summer. It includes the tracks highlighted in this article, along with more traditional duduk performances and cinematic music that you may recognize. Enjoy!