Ca tru: A night at the opera in the streets of Hanoi

On a Sunday evening in Hanoi’s Old Quarter, you’ll likely hear the purr of motorbikes, calls of street vendors and clicks of camera shutters as wide-eyed tourists capture the city’s manic atmosphere. But if you find yourself wandering along Hang Bac – also known as “Silver Street” – another sound might catch your ear.

After all, the otherworldly tones of ca trù – one of the most revered musical genres in Vietnam – are hard to ignore. An ancient Vietnamese tradition of sung poetry, the art is more than 1,000 years old.

In 2009, UNESCO inscribed ca trù singing as an “Intangible Cultural Heritage in Need of Urgent Safeguarding.”

After you travel to Vietnam and hear ca trù for the first time, you’ll understand why. But as practitioners age and the younger generation loses interest, there’s a fear that ca trù may be on the verge of extinction. Fortunately, there are those working to keep this unique piece of Vietnamese culture alive.

High-class beginnings

Barley Norton, a senior lecturer in ethnomusicology at Goldsmiths, University of London, first encountered ca trù in 1994.

“I think [ca trù] is an acquired taste, it sounds very alien to people who haven’t heard it before,” Norton tells CNN. “But once you become acclimatized to the subtleties of the music and the unusual vocal style, it becomes more interesting.”

The Vietnamese answer to opera, ca trù is sung in a dramatic, full-throated manner – always by a woman. Song themes range from love and attraction to the beauty of Hanoi’s West Lake.

Traditionally, ca trù was exclusively the domain of Vietnam’s literati and moneyed elites, but eventually found its way into “singing bars” around Hanoi. The musical form has drawn comparisons, perhaps tenuously, to the history of geisha performances in Japan.

Both genres have origins as high-class entertainment. And both, over time, suffered from besmirched reputations as guises for vice.

After the communist takeover of northern Vietnam in 1945, the genre was branded as being tainted by prostitution and French colonial influence. Ongoing wars also contributed to ca trù’s decline. But a lot of pre-revolutionary culture that was previously frowned upon after 1954 is now seen as an important part of Vietnam’s cultural identity, says Norton.

A ca tru renaissance

In the past three decades, ca trù has enjoyed a modest revival thanks to renewed support from the government and efforts of a few passionate musicians, such as Bach Van.

Decked out in a fuchsia ao dai – a national dress that resembles a tunic – the 60-year-old performer is one of Vietnam’s most prominent ca trù singers. She’s been singing for more than 30 years and started the Hanoi Ca Trù Club in 1991 to expose the public to the music. Van performs every Sunday evening in Dinh Kim Ngan house – a centuries-old communal property.

Meet the master

When Van opens her mouth, an otherworldly sound fills the room. She employs a mix of breathing and vibrato – a rapid variation in pitch – to create distinctive, ornamented sounds. At times, her singing sounds like braying, at others like humming. By turns lilting, by others plaintive, yearning.

Her voice crescendos, breaking at the top into tonal decorations, like ripples from ocean waves. There are 56 different melodies found in ca trù, with no fixed beat.

“It doesn’t follow a pulse, so it’s unusual in that aspect,” says Norton. “It’s improvised to some extent.”

While the ca trù singer performs, she taps out a rhythm on a small bar made of bamboo. Van says that she can hit this instrument before, during or after her singing, but the rules by which she does this are very strict.

Two other instruments accompany the singer – a three-stringed, backless lute (at 5.5 feet tall one of the longest stringed instruments in the world) and a “praise” drum.

The latter is just as it sounds. Made of buffalo hide, the praise drum is traditionally played by an audience member to express approval or disapproval of the singer’s skill. These days, the drum is played by a ca trù musician, creating a sharp, discordant sound that punctuates the singer’s verses.

The song plays on

Ca trù is not institutionalized – there’s no textbook or school that teaches the complicated singing style.It’s entirely passed on by oral and technical transmission from singer to student, a process that Van says takes three to 10 years. The trainee must learn up to 100 songs by heart before a teacher will grant her permission to sing before an audience.

After her Sunday performance – attended by an audience of four – Van says, quite matter-of-factly, that ca trù “will likely die” with her. From the courtyard, the unforgettable sounds of ca trù emanate onto the busy Hanoi street. A few passersby stop to listen.

Van performs every Sunday night at Dinh Kim Ngan, 44 Hàng B?c, Hoàn Ki?m, Hanoi.

Javier Puig Saura: A career diplomat, Javier Puig Saura moved to Hanoi in 2014 and was blown away by the energy and color -- so much so, that it inspired him to resume his long-neglected hobby of photography.

Javier Puig Saura —

The more he shot, the more Saura wanted to see and discover -- all the while posting on his dynamic Instagram feed. "Life, from birth to death, happens on the streets," says Saura. "And there is also this fabulous mix of tradition and modernity, European influence and Asian character."

Javier Puig Saura —

"Basically, taking pictures is an excuse to meet people so I use the camera as a pretext," says Saura, who regularly sits down to share a beer with his subjects and even delivers printed photos later as a gift.

Hai Thanh: A Hanoi-born documentary photographer, Hai Thanh keeps a "visual diary" of day-to-day life in Vietnam on his popular Instagram account.

Hai Thanh —

Formerly a photojournalist, working at local newspapers and magazines, Thanh has been photographing the city since 2004.

Hai Thanh —

"In the early years, I used street photography as a tool to develop my own voice," says Thanh. "The city is an eternal inspiration of mine -- it's kind of like my big house. I have everything here: family, job, friends, foods and love."

Maika Elan: Married to Hai Thanh, Maika Elan is a documentary photographer who tells intimate stories through her lens.

Maika Elan —

Born and raised in Hanoi, Elan's passion lies in documenting the everyday struggles of Vietnamese people. "In the Old Quarter of Hanoi, people eat in the alley, sleep in the alley, whisper in the lane, all of the smells and laughter are all staying in the lane," she writes. "My photos describe the people, the living space, the joy and sadness at the end of the alley in the heart of Hanoi -- where it all began."

Maika Elan —

Elan has won numerous awards, including a World Press Photo award for an image depicting an LGBT couple in bed -- part of Elan's "The Pink Choice" documentary project. Her intimate "Inside Hanoi" and "Like My Father" photo series were also well received.

Maika Elan —

"I love to take picture in the small alleys," she says. "They look very small and dark from outside, but when you walk in, its very long and often open up to stairways or kitchen, with lots of sunshine. It always takes me by surprise."

Bien Thuy Nguyen: Photographer Bien Thuy Nguyen grew up in a small village, just outside of Hanoi. The Instagrammer -- who shoots under the moniker "Bien on the Road" -- relocated to Hanoi eight years ago.

Bien Thuy Nguyen —

Now a full-time liaison officer at the UN International School in Hanoi, Nguyen snaps photos while traveling or wandering around Hanoi.

Bien Thuy Nguyen —

"I got my first camera in 2008," he recalls. "I was shooting in my free time with friends ... I fell in love with Hanoi and all its charms. All the historical and cultural layers inspire me."

Bien Thuy Nguyen —

"The people and their daily life in the city are like watching a film -- lively and interesting," he says. "I take photos of whatever happens on the streets, or at secret corners, quiet alleys, beautiful architecture such as temples, churches, castles... of course coffee shops too."

Lan Chi Tran: A Hanoi native, 30-year-old Lan Chi Tran has a deep connection with her hometown -- evident on her vibrant Instagram feed, where she has 9,000-plus followers. Tran pursues photography as way to relax -- even in busy Hanoi, she finds peace through her practice.

Lan Chi Tran —

"I always feel calm when being at these places," she says. "The streets are always crowded but when you are there, it's somehow very quiet and peaceful."

Lan Chi Tran —

Tran says every corner of Hanoi is inspiring -- from coffee shops to trees, people and architecture.

Linh Pham: With more than 70,000 followers on Instagram and a career as a photojournalist and documentarian, Linh Pham is among Vietnam's most talented photographers.

Linh Pham —

As a local, Pham says he knows many "backstage" shots and alternative angles to show Hanoi from a fresh perspective."I love photos with layers -- the kind of photos that make you stop and look more closely to really figure out what's going on in the scene."

Linh Pham —

"On the surface (Hanoi) looks old, chaotic or plain dirty, but with patience and empathy, one can surely find beauty and order in every frame," he says.

Still Life: Instagramming Hanoi

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