Singer, dancer, and master of the flute and other Tibetan instruments, Penpa Tsering performs traditional and original Central Asian music.
(Leo Kulinski)
On a frigid winter day about four years ago, Tibetan singer and musician Penpa Tsering was walking along the frozen waters of Walden Pond in Concord, practicing his throat singing.
As he chanted in the deep-pitched rumbles that characterize this form of Central Asian music, it seemed to him that the pond was responding. He heard creaking and crackling, perhaps from the ice . . . or perhaps because Thoreau's old stomping ground was reacting to the mantra as it echoed through the woods.
"I feel the Walden Pond joined with me," says Tsering, who fled from Tibet in 1989 and now lives in Somerville.
Matter-of-fact descriptions of transcendent moments crop up often in a conversation with Tsering, who will be among the many artists performing this weekend at the Lowell Folk Festival. A singer, dancer, and master of the flute and other Tibetan instruments, Tsering performs both traditional and original Tibetan and Central Asian music, which are tied to his practice of Tibetan Buddhism.
Tsering, 44, explains - almost apologetically - that he learned to play music from a teacher in white robes with white hair, carrying a white flute, and accompanied by a white horse, who has come to him in dreams.
No, he doesn't understand why this spirit teacher chose him or why he can learn so much while he sleeps. He is mystified by this and says he always prays before a concert, in gratitude. It's true that many people don't believe him, he acknowledges, but "I never had any regular teacher. I learned from dreams."
An observer might speculate that Tsering is a musical prodigy. Indeed, he says he seems to have the ability to hear a song or see a dance once and immediately know the notes and the steps. Tsering, however, believes that his dream teacher is responsible.
"At first, he played for me, at the top of a mountain," Tsering says. "After third time, I bought a flute and practiced myself. After four, five days, I know how to play the flute, because the sound is very beautiful."
Whoever or whatever is responsible, Tsering has since won worldwide recognition for his performances; he has appeared throughout New England, Japan, Thailand, India, and Nepal. This weekend is his first appearance at the Lowell Folk Festival, which opens tomorrow night and continues Saturday and Sunday.
Tsering's difficult past is written on his face and body. He was born in the Chamdo area of Tibet in 1963. As a young boy, he saw his father and grandfather, who worked for a local monastery, executed by Chinese forces that had taken over Tibet in 1951. During his childhood, his mother taught him traditional healing songs, but forbade him to join a monastery out of fear for his life.
As a young man, he tangled with a Chinese police officer and was beaten, bayoneted, and later jailed. He says he was lucky; the officer fired two shots that missed him. Later, someone attempted to cut his throat; he ducked his head and the broken bottle sliced open his face, leaving a large scar near his mouth.
Yet Tsering has remained devoted to the message of compassion and nonviolence of the Dalai Lama, who left Tibet in 1959. In 1989, after his mother died, Tsering made the difficult 27-day trek over the Himalayas into Nepal and subsequently to India to visit the Tibetan leader in exile. He later settled in India, where he became a teacher and performer of music and dance.
In 2000, he came to the United States, and in 2006 became a US citizen. Today, his job is working for a heating and plumbing company, but he frequently performs, particularly at fund-raisers for Tibetan causes.
Like many Tibetan exiles, he grieves for his homeland but holds out hope that Tibet will eventually gain autonomy from China. "That is my best wish," he says.
His performances, which include mantras, folk dance, Tibetan opera, and throat singing as well as original songs, tell of his homeland, but with joy, not sorrow. "I never really perform in sadness," he says. "I try to bring the truth of the song to make people happy. If I play [in a] positive way, music is healing."
He often plays a special white flute that he made to resemble the white flute of his dream teacher. He draws ethereal, haunting notes from it on "Tso Nang Norbu" or "Jewel in the Lake," a song, he says, "I copy from my teacher. It is the first thing he taught me."
Ironically, the material for the special instrument could have come from any
He puts it to his lips to perform a Tibetan nomad song. As he plays, he turns his head, cocking his ear toward the window. Outside, in the twilight, birds are joining in.![]()


