The Kaiui—also known as fui or be’u in different regions—is a traditional bamboo flute of Timor-Leste, cherished for its gentle, evocative sound that once echoed across rice fields, hilltops, and quiet village evenings. Long associated with solitude, emotional expression, and storytelling, the Kaiui is more than just a musical instrument—it is a vessel of memory and connection.\n\nTraditionally crafted from au-fafulu, a specific type of bamboo, the Kaiui features seven tone holes and is often about the length of a forearm. A key part of its design is the use of a corn cob or similar material to block part of the internal chamber, modifying the flow of air and shaping the distinctive tone. The player blows across the top opening while controlling the pitch with their fingers, producing melodies that are haunting, meditative, and subtly expressive.\n\nFor generations, the Kaiui was used by boys tending livestock in the fields, especially in the early mornings or during midday rest. It was played to pass the time, soothe animals, or simply to ease loneliness. Others used it to express feelings of longing—especially in matters of love, separation, or remembrance. In many communities, the flute is considered a deeply personal instrument, capable of giving voice to emotions that are otherwise difficult to speak.\n\nThe art of playing Kaiui is learned informally, typically by observing and mimicking older siblings, parents, or elders. There is no standard notation; the music lives through imitation, memory, and improvisation. Songs vary from region to region and even from player to player, with some tunes tied to seasonal rhythms or traditional events like sau-batar (harvest ceremonies) or rites of passage.\n\nThe Kaiui also plays a role in certain rituals and ceremonies, where its sound is believed to create a space of calm, welcome ancestral spirits, or accompany reflective moments. Its simple construction and natural materials reflect a worldview grounded in harmony with the environment—a flute made entirely from what the land provides, played under the open sky.\n\nToday, however, the practice of making and playing the Kaiui is increasingly rare. As younger generations turn to electronic music and imported instruments, the quiet music of the bamboo flute is fading from everyday life. In some communities, it survives primarily as a cultural demonstration during festivals or heritage programs.\n\nEfforts to preserve the Kaiui are now underway through workshops, school projects, and intergenerational exchanges. In these spaces, the flute is not only played but celebrated—as a living symbol of Timor-Leste’s musical heritage and a gentle reminder of how sound, memory, and identity are woven together in the simplest of forms.

It is made of the hard bamboo which can be got from a long distance. Kayans cut the grain of bamboo into a thin layers and dry it in the air for making the sound string. There are eight bamboo strings in the instrument. This instrument is made by themselves. The player holds the bamboo harp by his hands and plays by his right and left fingers. In playing, the player plays and sings the lyrics and words of the song. When they go courting, they sing and play music to each other, composing their feeling and how they love. There are group songs. Since yore, this harp has been preserved and handed down from generation to generation as a traditional heritage. There is no exact record in what year and era it appeared.\n-30.5 cm in the length of the first string\n-33.4 cm in the length of the second string\n-37.1 cm in the length of the third string\n-39.6 cm in the length of the fourth string\n-42.2 cm in the length of the fifth string\n-43.5 cm in the length of the sixth string\n-49 cm in the length of the seventh string\n-52 cm in the length of the eighth string\n-2 cm in The distance of the string\n-The length of the bamboo harp is 72.5 cm\n-The circumference of the harp is 44 cm

It is made of the hard bamboo which can be got from a long distance. Kayans cut the grain of bamboo into a thin layers and dry it in the air for making the sound string. There are eight bamboo strings in the instrument. This instrument is made by themselves. The player holds the bamboo harp by his hands and plays by his right and left fingers. In playing, the player plays and sings the lyrics and words of the song. When they go courting, they sing and play music to each other, composing their feeling and how they love. There are group songs. Since yore, this harp has been preserved and handed down from generation to generation as a traditional heritage. There is no exact record in what year and era it appeared.\n-30.5 cm in the length of the first string\n-33.4 cm in the length of the second string\n-37.1 cm in the length of the third string\n-39.6 cm in the length of the fourth string\n-42.2 cm in the length of the fifth string\n-43.5 cm in the length of the sixth string\n-49 cm in the length of the seventh string\n-52 cm in the length of the eighth string\n-2 cm in The distance of the string\n-The length of the bamboo harp is 72.5 cm\n-The circumference of the harp is 44 cm

Simple in design but rich in cultural significance, the Lakadou is a traditional musical instrument made entirely from bamboo, found in various rural communities of Timor-Leste. Often carved from a single stalk, it stands as a testament to the ingenuity of ancestral craftsmanship—an instrument that produces sound not with strings or metal, but with tensioned strips of its own body.\n\nThe process of making a Lakadou begins with selecting the right kind of bamboo—neither too young nor too old—so that it is flexible yet strong. Using only a knife or a small carving tool, the outer layer of the bamboo is partially sliced into thin, horizontal strips along the stalk, which remain attached at both ends. These strips act as the instrument’s “strings.” Small wooden pegs or bridges are then inserted beneath them to lift the strips slightly, allowing them to vibrate when plucked.\n\nWhen played, the Lakadou emits a warm, buzzing resonance that can be heard clearly in quiet, open-air settings. The tones are soft yet sharp, melodic yet earthy—reflecting both the material and the environment from which it is made. Each Lakadou has its own pitch and personality, depending on the size of the bamboo and the placement of the tuning pegs.\n\nTraditionally, the Lakadou was played during rituals, agricultural festivals, and informal gatherings. It could accompany dance, storytelling, or simply be enjoyed as a solo instrument under the shade of a tree. It was sometimes played to express emotions—joy, longing, or sorrow—or to pass the time during communal labor in the fields.\n\nWhat makes the Lakadou especially significant is its status as a self-contained instrument. It does not require any additional materials beyond the bamboo itself—no strings, no nails, no external fasteners—just natural design and human skill. This reflects a traditional ethos of sustainability and resourcefulness, values still highly regarded in rural Timorese life.\n\nWhile the instrument is still known in some communities today, its presence is fading. Younger generations are more familiar with modern instruments, and the skill of crafting Lakadou is no longer widely practiced or passed down. In some places, only a handful of elders remember how to make and play it, and the sound of the Lakadou has become rare in daily village life.\n\nEfforts to preserve the Lakadou are growing, however. Cultural festivals, school workshops, and local storytelling events have begun reintroducing the instrument as a piece of Timor-Leste’s musical heritage. Some artisans are even experimenting with new forms, adapting traditional techniques to contemporary performances.\n\nAs a musical tool, the Lakadou is humble. But as an expression of cultural identity, it speaks volumes. In its structure, sound, and spirit, it tells the story of a people who shaped their art from the land around them—and who, with care, may yet continue to do so for generations to come.

The film is dedicated to the Kyrgyz folk instrument komuz. An expert on making and playing komuz shares an komuz origin story. The film shows the interconnectedness between the models and melodies of komuz. Outstanding komuz makers and players as well as komuz beginners present some classical komuz melodies in the film.

The film is dedicated to the Kyrgyz folk instrument komuz. An expert on making and playing komuz shares an komuz origin story. The film shows the interconnectedness between the models and melodies of komuz. Outstanding komuz makers and players as well as komuz beginners present some classical komuz melodies in the film. \nThis film is dedicated to kalpak—a traditional male felt hat. Knowledgeable people (a teacher, a journalist, an activist, and craftswomen) talk about the social functions and spiritual meanings behind kalpak. The film shows traditional and modern methods of making kalpak.

Bronze casting method is applied to making this instrument. They make a sound when clapping them each other.\n-1 feet 2 inches in diameter\n-7 inches in diameter of central boss

Bronze casting method is applied to making this instrument. They make a sound when clapping them each other.\n-1 feet 2 inches in diameter\n-7 inches in diameter of central boss

Zhanakorgan district in Kazakhstan’s Kyzylorda region is a land steeped in history and spiritual heritage. Home to the ancient city of Syganak—once the capital of the Kipchaks and a key hub on the Great Silk Road—this sacred region carries the legacy of great thinkers, warriors, and artists. Among them is Korkyt-ata, the legendary 10th-century poet, philosopher, and creator of the kobyz, whose ideas about life, mortality, and moral integrity continue to shape Kazakh identity.\n\nInspired by Korkyt’s worldview, modern-day master craftsman Pakhriddin Sadykov brings the spirit of Kazakh heritage to life through woodcarving, sculpture, and musical instrument making. Born in Zhanakorgan, Sadykov overcame a difficult start and lack of formal training to become one of the most respected artisans in the Aral Sea region. His works—shaped by a deep reverence for Kazakh symbols such as the shanyrak, kobyz, and hearth—are not only artistic expressions but philosophical reflections on culture, life, and legacy.\n\nIn his bustling workshop, Pakhriddin mentors a new generation of craftsmen, including his own children, passing down traditional knowledge and skills. His approach goes beyond technical mastery—he teaches the soul of Kazakh art. For him, students who honor the craft with dedication are “living,” while those who pursue it only for profit are “dead.”\n\nDespite financial hardships and an unfinished dream of building a national arts center, Sadykov remains hopeful. He envisions a future where traditional Kazakh crafts flourish, not only as cultural treasures but also as sustainable livelihoods. This is a story of resilience, revival, and the timeless value of creativity rooted in heritage.

For making Danu War Chae Chaung, Da Nu master cuts a strip of bamboo into the necessary length and carves it into the shape of reed. Then, roads the carved reed and gives it a final touch. Perforate the bamboo on both sides and string it through the holes. Beeswax is applied inside the reed. Danu traditional bamboo reed instrument can be made into the desired size.