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THE CYMBALS OF ISTANBUL |
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Sound forged
in fire
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The story we're going to tell is a true fairy tale. The story of the
traditional 17th century Istanbul cymbals, produced according to
a secret formula.
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There are in Istanbul certain
truths that remain fairy tales yet real. Among them are things
not repeated to everyone, secrets known only to select people.
Our fairy tale is one of those. A true fairy tale that began
376 years ago.
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Most of the cymbals used today
by musicians throughout the world
are machine-produced. But the
fairytale in Istanbul continues. The alloy is made into
cylinders by being heated to 1200 degrees and then
cooled in water and tar |
GURU OF
CYMBAL-MAKING: ZILCIYAN
When the
pounding of the hammers ceased, the Great Master of
Cymbal-making, Zilciyan Usta, prepared his fire and his
secret alloy of the future. At the first light of dawn on
its journey into the foundry flames, the secret alloy beaten
by countless hammer blows, was transformed into
a book of
mysteries that contained within it Istanbul's thousand
sounds. Into a book of mysteries to be read by those
acquainted with fire, love and tradition: into the
traditional, Istanbul-made cymbals.
The opening lines of this fairytale were written in a
foundry in the basement of a church at the southwest corner
of Istanbul somewhere between Yedikule and Samatya. An
apprentice to an Armenian bell-maker from Kayseri would melt
tin and copper here in the same pan in a process that would
spread as a tradition throughout the entire world. In time,
the |
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apprentice who
spent his childhood amidst the clank and din of the foundry
operations became Zilciyan Usta, whose name was synonymous with
the highest quality church bells. Of whom they said: uK.
Zilciyan, master of bells whose peal is heard from the city's
opposite shore, of bells that never crack in a lifetime, master
of handmade bells. "
'WEAPON OF
SOUND'
Learning the
family craft, son Avedis took over the foundry from his father.
The fine points and skill he acquired from Kerope Usta led him
to a
serendipitous accident that would turn him into a 400year-old
legend. The alloy obtained from the traditional mixture that he
prepared one day when he was alone in the foundry came out
differently from other times.
More resistant
to the blows of the hammer, more easily shaped without breaking.
That was the day the formula was discovered for cymbals which,
rather than
a deep gong,
produce a highpitched 'whishing' sound, lighter and purer than
church bells. From that day onward, the technique became a trade
secret, passed down from father to son and revealed to no one
outside the family.
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The
quality of the sound produced by this special alloy spread
far and wide, eventually reaching the sultan. At his behest
it began to be used as a 'weapon of sound' by the 'Mehteran'
or Ottoman Military Band, which produced sounds like the
clashing of swords and shields in war. Avedis Usta's tiny
foundry began producing cymbals for the world's largest
army. The Mehteran, which, far more than a military company
employed only in wartime, also performed at various
functions, was soon unable to play any |
Among the golden shavings from
the lathe, the raw alloy is tempered by pounding |
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cymbals
other than those of A vedis Usta, whose fame quickly spread
throughout the empire. And given the need the empire's
religious communities and musical entertainers also had for
bells, the fire never died out and the pounding of the
hammers never ceased day and night at Avedis Usta's foundry.
SOUNDS
THAT
CROSSED
THE OCEAN
The Great
Master was long dead and gone, and the formula af the secret
alloy continued to be handed down from generation to
generation. But such are fairytales, and in the 19th century
an Ottoman sultan appeared who did not like mehter music.
When the sultan gives an order, what can the people do? Soon
fewer and fewer customers were ordering bells from Anatolia.
The master in those days was also named Avedis. Finding the
solution in selling his cymbals abroad, he set out on
a long
journey West, seeking foreign buyers for his instruments. He
even received an award in Europe in 1851. When he also died
in 1865, his brother Little Kerope took over the business.
His cymbals too became much sought after by the bands and
orchestras of Europe. By 1927 Levan and Diran were running
the family business in Istanbul. But that was the year when
everything changed. Cousin Aram Zilciyan received an
invitation from his relatives in America. Having no son to
whom he could pass on the craft, he decided to risk the
arduous journey.
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Leaving the cast, the cymbals reach a temparature of 800
degrees in the
annealing oven |
Meanwhile
in a foundry near Yedikule, Mikael Usta, who had taken up
production in the footsteps of Big Kerope, began stamping a
large 'K' on the cymbals he made in the Great Master's name.
He went on producing extraordinary cymbals, but there was a
problem. Residents of the neighborhood were disturbed by the
pounding of the hammers. Bidding farewell to the quarter
where the foundry had stood for over a century, the usta
moved it to Bayrampasa. The legendary 'K. Zilciyan' cymbals
which drummers seek in vain to find even today, |
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continued
to be sent to America until the orders ceased in 1977. A
year later Mikael Usta was unable to sell any more cymbals.
The day came when for the first time in centuries the sound
of the hammers ceased and the fire went out in the foundry.
Broken-hearted, he was forced to close it down. Within a
year the last great master in Istanbul, Mikael, had also
died, and the clash of cymbals was no longer heard in the
city.
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THE
LEGEND LIVES ON
But
every cloud has
a
silver lining, they say, and three years after the
master's death Mikael Usta's experienced assistants and
boyhood friends Mehmet Tamdeger and Agop Tomurcuk
established a foundry to carry on the craft. These two
unique individuals, from outside the family but privy to
the secret, resurrected on its home soil the traditional
production of cymbals that had gone on for four
centuries. Melting their secret mixtures with fire, and
pounding their hammers with love, they stamped their
cymbals with the 7000-yearold traditional name of these
lands: Istanbul. |
The
red hot alloy casts are shaped in a cylinder |
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Don't think that our fairytale ends here. For in Istanbul, the
only city in the world where hand-made cymbals are produced,
this tradition lives on in the workshops set up separately by
Mehmet Tamdeger and Agop Usta's sons, Arman and Serkis Tomurcuk.
And in the workshops called 'Bosphorus,' 'Turkish' and
'Anatolia', set up by the masters who split off from them.
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Thanks to
being shaped by hand, each cymbal has a distinct timbre. A
cymbal acquires its characteristic sound only after being
completely cooled |
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Source: Skylife 11/04 |
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Kađan Aybudak |
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