Fifty Shades of Brown

When we think of the color brown, we often imagine the color of land and soil. But did you know that the way people see colors can be influenced by their culture? In his Theory of Colors (Zur Farbenlehre), Johann Wolfgang von Goethe suggested that the colors of the clothes worn by commoners in the past reflect their worldview and psychological state. In the same way, each nation develops its own distinct perception of colors like brown. The Kazakhs, however, have a unique attitude towards brown as it, to them, describes sounds, time, and states of mind.

If I were to write a new book on Kazakh philosophy, I would start with the word qoñyr, Kazakh for brown. The word in Kazakh culture is rich in symbolism and has numerous direct and indirect meanings, but more importantly, it possesses tremendous poetic power. Therefore, the study of Kazakh philosophy should begin with the term qoñyr saryn (meaning ‘brown melody’ in music and poetry), as seen in the mellow küiiThe küi is a traditional instrumental composition.‘Qoñyr’ by Korkut, a legendary Turkic composer of the tenth century.

While describing the word ‘brown’ (qoñyr), the Kazakh language lexiconiҚазақ тілінің түсіндірме сөздігі includes a number of phrases that might seem irrelevant and even confusing to a non-Kazakh speaker, such as qoñyr jel (‘brown wind’), qoñyr dauys ('brown voice'), or qoñyr kölenke ('brown shadow'). In these phrases, the color brown is associated with serenity, silence, and an untroubled lifestyle. The word also has many metaphysical associations, such as qoñyr küi ('brown mood') or qoñyr äñgime ('brown conversation'). Interestingly, this color is more often associated with Kazakh küis.

Luckily, there is plenty of research on the meaning of the word qoñyr and all its shades. In his work Hyperborea: Genealogy of the Dream Era, Serikbol Qondybai, a prominent researcher of Kazakh mythology, delves into ancient Turkic mythology. He links brown, or the concept of qoñyr, with the emergence of space and existence, and even the formation of the Turkic world. However, in this article, I would like to explore qoñyr not only from the perspective of mythology but also from the lens of poetic discourse. Perhaps this is due to my limited understanding of mythology, but explaining the concept of qoñyr is as challenging as describing the melody of the qobyziA traditional Turkic bowed string instrument or the essence of Kazakh küis.

In an article titled ‘Abiken's Qoñyr Küi’, the renowned küishi, a performer of küis, the scholar Jangali Juzbaev, wrote, ‘Long ago, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the küi Qoñyr was most often performed on the flute, qobyz, and occasionally on the dombra. However, this was not a widespread tendency as most küis composed during the time of the ulusesiThe states that emerged within the realm of the Mongol Empireand khans had a fierce, thunderous sound. History also tells us that the küis that were composed during the reign of Ablai and Baijigit khans represented unique battle cries.’

According Juzbaev, although the küi 'Qoñyr' originated in Korkut’s time, it became hugely popular only much later, during the Tsarist colonization. Thus, the dismal, sorrowful, and mournful melody of ‘Qoñyr’, which was full of anger, transformed into what we could now call protest music, with the emotion of qoñyr playing an important role. The word qoñyr itself seems to have played a central role in these songs, and sometimes the music would directly convey rebellious feelings.

Thus, as we can see, the idea of qoñyr in Kazakh music possesses a distinct anti-colonial and protest character. By studying it within the context of music, we can see how the Kazakhs felt about colonialism over time. However, during colonization by the Russian Empire and later during Soviet times, the national memory of this period began to fade along with the deeper meaning of qoñyr.

Given that the nomadic livelihood, lifestyle, and traditions were often symbolized by the color brown, the transition to sedentary life drastically altered the Kazakh perception of existence. In the new Kazakh society, the subtle language of küis became inaccessible to most people, except for professional küi researchers, art historians, and a small group of individuals who maintained the nomadic way of life.

As often noted, Korkut's flight from death, which became the central theme of 'Qoñyr', wasn't about escaping his fate. Instead, it symbolized his fear of the traditional Kazakh lifestyle and civilization dying out amidst the rapid spread of Islam. Commenting on why only about twenty of Korkut’s küis have survived, ethnologist and art historian Aqseleu Seidimbek noted in his book The Genealogy of Küis: Previously, Kazakhs found solace in the melodies flowing from the qobyz. Now, singers were branded as madcaps, and the qobyz players were equated with being an accomplice of Satan by Islam. The baqsy-shaman playing the qobyz became a source of horror: ‘He invokes the demons.’ As a result of these efforts, it became impossible to reach the hearts and captivate ordinary people with the sacred sounds of the holy qobyz.

It's also worth noting that while the decline of peace and Korkut's death were associated with the spread of Islam in this region, the religion would soon become an integral part of Kazakh culture. Like how Shintoism and Buddhism merged in Japan, Islam gradually permeated all aspects of people's lives, blending with more ancient concepts. For example, even modern baqsy (or shamans) uphold traditions and rituals that incorporate elements of Islam.

It is fair to say that brown, green, and blue are the colors invoked most often in Kazakh poetry. I believe the roots of this phenomenon lies in the traditional faith, where it is believed that a magical secret lies behind any color. In the vocabulary of aqyns, Kazakh poets, the word qoñyr is most often associated with the color of the land or soil. This is evident in the poems of many poets including Magjan Jumabai, Qasym Amanjol, Kenshilik Myrzabek, and Jarken Bödesh. For example, Jumaken NajimedeniJumaken Najimeden (1935–83) was a Kazakh poet, writer, and translator. uses the color brown in a particular way in his poem 'Qoñyr':

My warmly brown mother, wrapped in the evening's darkness,
Remained sorrowful, her eyes moist with tears.
Thus, I embarked on the brown road,
Gray thoughts creeping in, depriving me of rest.

Ahead, my path still stretches, very gray.
At times, sorrow's velvet fills my chest.
Just like the velvety brown lullabies sung by Kazakh mothers,
To their dear little ones beneath the first stars.

Brown fields, brown steppes, velvety sounds …
And in the brown, flows all my life.
Amidst the gray hustle and bustle of autumn,
I welcomed the neighbor’s daughter as a wife to our family.

The velvety brown küi was a companion in my youth,
The brown-gray covered the peak of the hill, where my mother remained.
Brown dusk cloaks the rabbit hill as this evening lingers …
Enveloped in brown-gray melancholy, I sit alone, constrained.

This poem seems to explore familiar themes and various thoughts associated with the Kazakh identity and what it means to be Kazakh. Upon a close reading of the last two lines, one may begin to involuntarily believe that the author mourns the state of mind he finds himself in, feeling devastated and longing for a simpler time.

Despite the fact that the first two lines are written in the rhyme of the qara ölen, a simple, popular genre, and the two following lines are cross-rhymed, it is nearly impossible to carry out a theoretical analysis. A reader familiar with Jumaken’s writings and aware of his diaries would most definitely feel that the poet is sometimes as mysterious as a küishi. Although his poems are written in the nostalgic manner associated with qoñyr, as are the poems of Abai, it is still very difficult to decipher and describe them in plain and broadly comprehensible Kazakh. We have no idea how the idea of qoñyr would change in translation into other languages and what new shades it would acquire. In this regard, I think that acknowledging the enormous poetic power and profound meaning of qoñyr would be the most effective and proper way to get rid of any cultural trauma and intellectual crisis.

Kazakhs abroad have their own cultural interpretation of the color brown. Alongside Omargazy Aitan's poem 'Qoñyr', there is a well-known description of the color by a küishi from Xinjiang, who perceives it as ‘the emergence of similar lines when trying to recall the silhouettes of forgotten objects’. Here, the word qoñyr is associated with the search for one’s identity, one’s own voice, and the weeping of a long-forgotten melody from the past. When folk songs from one region mix with those from another, the lyrics are often modified, as is the overall meaning, but the style of articulation remains the same. Thus, this search becomes an intriguing experience in terms of identity formation, especially when one feels a loss of culture that can never be retrieved—these feelings manifest as that ‘brown mood’.

In conclusion, it is worth noting that in the Kazakh imagination, the word qoñyr represents not only color, sound, simplicity, poverty, mundaneness, and beauty, but also conveys various aspects of one’s character, weather, mood, time of day, and lingering mental anguish. It is a unique and multifaceted concept particular to the nomadic Kazakh people. At times, qoñyr can also be associated with individuals. When Kazakhs hold special hopes for someone, they may refer to that person as being ‘just like me’ and associate them with the color brown.

I remember when the renowned küishi Saken Turysbek shook his head and proclaimed that Johann Sebastian Bach, whose music conveyed the idea of qoñyr, was a true Kazakh. 'Brown' people yearn for you as they do for the brown land or an old friend who embarked on a lengthy journey. This incomprehensible depth is the distinctive and wondrous essence of the color brown.