Bidding goodbye to central Hanoi, I took the National Road 21B to reach Tế Tiêu Neighborhood, a small community in Đại Nghĩa Township of Hanoi’s Mỹ Đức District. This fertile patch of land by the Đáy River is the cradle of a unique form of traditional folk art: Tế Tiêu puppetry.
As water puppetry (rối nước) is a better-known art form in Vietnam, sometimes, Tế Tiêu’s version is referred to as rối cạn (land puppetry) to differentiate the two.
On the day of my visit, the puppetry troupe was preparing for a show in the afternoon for a tour group, but yet, the temple courtyard was bustling with activities right from the early morning. Someone was busy setting up the stage, another was arranging chairs, while technicians were testing the sound. In a room next door, rows of wooden puppets were hanged neatly, awaiting their turn in the limelight.
The Tế Tiêu puppetry troupe comprises about 20 members, including some who are over 60.
Some time later, troupe members returned from the field. They parked their bike outside and swiftly began changing into their performing costumes — brightly colored áo tứ thân and áo dài with accompanying headscarves. Every day, they are seasoned farmers hard at work cultivating plants in the field, but once on stage, they transform into masterful artists whose every movement is in sync with the actions and emotions of the puppets.
Lão Trượng, the opening character of Tế Tiêu puppet.
“Does someone like me need to announce my presence?” a deep, robust voice boomed out from behind the stage. In front, Lão Trượng appeared in his crimson robe, silvery beard, and measured steps. In water puppet shows, the narrator is Chú Tễu, but in Tế Tiêu shows, the narration is done by an elderly man, the symbol of the village’s most respected generation.
Phạm Công Bằng, an artisan and the leader of the Tế Tiêu troupe.
After the show, artisan Phạm Công Bằng sat down with me to retell the centuries-old history of Tế Tiêu puppetry, a rich tradition that’s not only valuable because of its artistry, but also how it anchors the soul and collective memory of an entire community.
Rối cạn, the cultural root of Tế Tiêu ancient village
In Vietnam, puppetry is closely linked to an agrarian way of life. It is how farmers express their love for life, the nation, and the people; their wishes for a content life; and their faith in kindness. Water puppetry is no doubt the most famous form, but land puppetry, despite being lesser-known, has also existed for hundreds of years.
Getting ready for a performance.
Tế Tiêu, as a region, is a historic land where early Vietnamese settlers founded villages. They cleared jungles to create farms, and established cultural practices. According to local elders, puppetry has shown up here for over 400 years thanks to Trần Triều Đông, a court mandarin. In 1573, he relocated here to form a village, teaching the people to cultivate rice, creating the art of puppetry, and passing it down to community members. Since then, this art form has taken root here as a crucial part of the people’s treasured pastime.
Tế Tiêu puppetry has witnessed many ups and downs too. Wars and separations nearly wiped out its existence, but in 1965–1960, it was slowly restored and thrived thanks to the efforts of veteran artisans like Lê Năng Nhượng and Phạm Văn Bể. From many small groups, the official Tế Tiêu puppetry troupe was formed in 1956. The troupe still maintains around 100 plays today and thousands of puppets controlled by around 20 members.
Interacting with members of the audience.
Artisan Phạm Công Bằng told me, back then, puppetry existed alongside nature and followed the rhythm of the harvest season. A puppetry show wasn’t an ostentatious occasion. Once the harvest was over and farmers had more free time, villagers gathered at temple courtyards on full-moon nights. Before electricity was invented, kerosene lamps and moonlight were the only light sources illuminating those get-togethers. Puppeteers didn’t make a living from performing, they were just farmers entertaining one another. During the day, they worked in the fields, but at night, they retreated behind the curtains to put on shows. That’s why Tế Tiêu puppetry is considered a highly socialized art form.
After hundreds of years, puppetry is still a highly socialized art form.
After hundreds of years, the structure of puppet shows has changed: spectators are mostly tourists while performances are put on at tourist attractions, but that communal spirit is still mostly intact.
An amalgam of many art forms
Tế Tiêu puppetry is the combination of many different artistic skills, including puppet craftsmanship, staging, puppet control, singing, spoken words, and music. What’s more, many puppet plays are directed adapted from materials of chèo, tuồng, quan họ, and hát văn — many other genres of folk performances — to create puppet shows both diverse and recognizable.
There are many steps in the creation of a puppet.
According to Bằng, the creation of a puppet involves many steps all calling for a high level of intricacy. Firstly, artisans choose a suitable type of wood to form the puppet body, often fig or jackfruit. Then, they carve out the body details; specific characters need to look a certain way. Once the physical form is done, body parts are assembled alongside control sticks in a way that produces movements as smoothly as possible. Then comes the beautifying stage when the puppet is painted, drawn on, and decorated to complete the character’s appearance and unique personality. Once that is done, outfits are created for the puppets. Finally, after a few adjustments, it can make its stage debut.
Buồng trò is the stage wings.
The main plays featured in Tế Tiêu puppetry often originate from real-life events and figures, such as historical characters, traditional customs, and spiritual lore. The background could include elements of agrarian life like rice paddy fields, rice milling, field ploughing, areca nut harvesting, water buffalos, and chickens. The source materials can include historical episodes like Thánh Gióng’s resistance against Ân forces (China’s Tang Dynasty) or the story of how Lý Công Uẩn moved the capital from Ninh Bình to Hanoi. Everyday activities like festivals, religious ceremonies, cultural activities, fruit collection, swings, palanquin procession, and wrestling are emulated using puppetry’s dynamic movements and colors. Each trope also carries didactic messaging to spread moral lessons and warn against vices and crimes.
A wrestling scene.
In order to best communicate the message and soul of the play, performers are expected to fully grasp the role of each puppet and the flow of the narrative to use the appropriate movement for each moment. The most common ones are walking, standing, arm-raising, head-turning, holding props, etc. Harder ones consist of emotional expressions, such as fright, joy, or sadness. Together, they form the “life” of the puppet. Mastering this life emulation requires not only flexible control, but also a deep understanding of each play and each character.
An equally crucial component of the performance is music and dialogues, guiding the emotions and rhythm of the play — sometimes it’s urgent and compelling, at times, it’s gentle and reverent. The orchestra accompanying the troupe includes percussion instruments like base drums, snare drums, and cymbals; and string instruments like đàn nhị and đàn tam. Depending on the play, performers would sing melodies from different genres, from common folk songs, spoken poetry, to tuồng, chèo, hát văn, and quan họ.
Nguyễn Văn Thuyết, the đàn nhị instrumentalist in the troupe.
The guardian of Tế Tiêu puppetry
In the field of land puppetry, perhaps the most well-known figure is Phạm Văn Bể, considered by many as a “walking dictionary” of puppetry and the soul of the troupe. Since he was eight, he had already shown great passion for puppets and then spent his entire life with this art form. He was well-versed in every step of the way from puppet making, scriptwriting, staging to instructing and performing.
Bể’s son is artisan Phạm Công Bằng, who grew up amongst the thuds of puppets being carved from wood blocks and the sounds of đàn nhị and drums. “It was his life story that inspired me to follow the family trade,” he shares. Bằng remembers vividly the elation when he held the first puppet he crafted himself in his hands. It was Thạch Sanh of the famous folk story Thạch Sanh–Lý Thông. His first performance took place when he was just 12 years old.
Standing in the stagewings, artisans could hear every laughter, every round of applause.
At the time, despite being the smallest and youngest member, he insisted on joining. Those formative experiences cultivated within him an affection for his ancestor’s lifework. After Bể passed away, the troupe lost a crucial pillar, but to Bằng, the work to keep it going is important as it encapsulates the collective memory of an entire community. “Standing in the stagewings, artisans can hear every laughter and every round of applause. When my hometown’s legacy is introduced to more people, I feel motivated,” he explains.
For someone who’s in charge of the Tế Tiêu troupe’s operation today, Bằng’s biggest concern is how to protect it from obsolescence, so that Tế Tiêu puppetry will continue to exist in the everyday life of villagers, while one day could become a unique tourist attraction for travelers.
